The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures 99

The Choice Humorous Works, Ludicrous Adventures 99

"Ah," returned Hook, having examined the fabric with great

earnestness for a few seconds, "yes; I perceive--Manchester

velvet--and may I take the liberty, sir, of inquiring how much you

might have paid per yard for the article?"

 

The quiet imperturbability of manner with which this was uttered

was more than the Rev. gentleman could stand; and, muttering

something about "supposing it was a mistake," he effected a retreat,

amid shouts of laughter from Hook's companions, in which the

other occupants of the coffee-room, the waiters, and even his own

"bull-dogs" were constrained to join.--_Barham._

 

 

SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS OF WINTER.

 

Of Hook's improvisations, while at the Mauritius, a stanza of one,

in which the names of the company seem to have furnished, each, the

subject of an epigram, is extant; it runs as follows:--

 

"We have next Mr. Winter, assessor of taxes,

I'd advise you to pay him whatever he _axes_,

Or you'll find, and I say it without any flummery,

Tho' his name may be Winter, his actions are _summary_."

 

 

"SOMETHING WRONG IN THE CHEST."

 

At St. Helena, Hook encountered the late Lord Charles Somerset, on

his way to assume the governorship of the Cape. Lord Charles, who had

met him in London occasionally, and knew nothing of his arrest, said,

"I hope you are not going home for your health, Mr. Hook." "Why,"

said Theodore, "I am sorry to say, they think there is something

wrong in the _chest_."--_Quarterly Review_, vol. lxxiii., p. 73.

 

 

WARREN'S BLACKING.

 

In the art of punning, whatever be its merits or de-merits, Hook

had few rivals, and but one superior, if indeed one--we mean Mr.

Thomas Hood. Among the innumerable "Theodores" on record, it will

be difficult, of course, to pick out the best; but what he himself

considered to be such, was addressed to the late unfortunate

Mr. F----, an artist, who subsequently committed suicide at the

"Salopian" coffee-house for love, as it is said, of a popular

actress. They were walking in the neighbourhood of Kensington, when

the latter pointing out on a dead wall an incomplete or half-effaced

inscription, running "Warren's B----," was puzzled at the moment for

the want of the context.

 

"'Tis _lacking_ that should follow," observed Hook, in explanation.

Nearly as good was his remark on the Duke of Darmstadt's brass band.

 

"They well-nigh stun one," said he, in reference to a morning

concert, "with those terrible wind instruments, which roar away in

defiance of all rule, except that which Hoyle addresses to young

whist-players when in doubt--_trump it!_"

 

 

THE WINE-CELLAR AND THE BOOK-SELLER.

 

Theodore Hook's saying to some man with whom a bibliopolist dined

the other day, and got extremely drunk, "Why, you appear to me to

have emptied your _wine_-cellar into your _book_-seller."--_Moore's

Diary_, Feb., 1836.

 

 

SIR ROBERT PEEL'S ANECDOTES OF THEODORE HOOK.

 

The late Sir Robert Peel was strongly impressed with Hook's

conversational powers and the genuine readiness of his wit; in

illustration of this, he used to relate, among others, the following

anecdote:--One morning, at Drayton Manor, where Hook was staying

as a guest, some one after breakfast happened to read out from the

newspaper a paragraph, in which a well-known coroner was charged

with having had a corpse unnecessarily disinterred. The ladies were

very severe in condemnation of such unfeeling conduct; a gallant

captain, however, who was present, took up the cudgels in behalf of

the accused, maintaining that he was a very kind-hearted man, and

incapable of doing anything without strong reasons, calculated to

annoy the friends of the deceased. The contest waxed warm: "Come,"

said Captain ----, at length, turning to Hook, who was poring over

the _Times_ in a corner of the room, and who had taken no part in the

discussion, "you know W----, what do you think of him? Is he not a

good-tempered, good-natured fellow?"

 

"Indeed he is," replied Hook, laying aside his paper, "I should say

he was just the very man to _give a body a lift_."

 

On the same authority, we may repeat a pun made at the expense of the

Duke of Rutland. There was a grand entertainment at Belvoir Castle,

on the occasion of the coming of age of the Marquis of Granby; the

company were going out to see the fireworks, when Hook came, in great

tribulation, to the Duke, who was standing near Sir Robert, and said,

"Now isn't this provoking! I've lost my hat--what can I do?" "Why the

deuce," returned his grace, "did you part with your hat?--I never

do!" "Yes," rejoined Theodore, "but you have especially good reasons

for sticking to your _Beaver_."[78]

 

 

A RECEIPT AGAINST NIGHT AIR.

 

"Theodore Hook," writes a friend, "had a receipt of his own to

prevent invalids from being exposed to the night air. I remember his

once taking me home from a party in his cab, between four and five

o'clock on a brilliant morning in July. I made some remark, soon

after we had passed Hyde Park Corner, about the reviving quality

of the air after the heated rooms we had been in. 'Ah,' said Hook,

'you may depend on it, my dear fellow, that there is nothing more

injurious to health than the night air. I was very ill some months

ago, and my doctor gave me particular orders not to expose myself

to it.' 'I hope,' said I, 'you attended to them?' 'O yes!' said he,

'strictly; I came up every day to Crockford's or some other place

to dinner, and I made it a rule on no account to go home again till

about this hour in the morning.'"

 

 

PUNTING.

 

"In the course of our fishing, we had been punted down the river

opposite to Lord ----'s house, and while seated in front of it, he

remarked that he used to be on very friendly terms with the noble

owner; but that a coolness had lately sprung up between them, in

consequence of his lordship having taken umbrage at the epitaph

(pointed with a clever but objectionable pun) he had composed for

his late brother, so unhappily notorious for the charges brought

against him of false play at whist. On seeing the present Peer out on

the river fishing, Hook had received from him, instead of his usual

courteous greeting, a very stiff, ceremonious bow; but, determined

not to notice it, he only replied:--

 

"'What, my lord, following the family occupation, eh?--_punting_, I

see--punting!'"

 

An impromptu of Hook's on the same subject, ran the round of the

club-houses. It will be remembered that the nobleman alluded to

brought an action for defamation against certain of his accusers,

which, however, he thought proper to abandon at the last moment.

 

EPIGRAM.

 

"Cease your humming,

The case is 'on;'

Defendant's _Cumming_;

Plaintiff's--gone!"

 

 

"LIST" SHOES.

 

The Duke of B----, who was to have been one of the knights at the

Eglinton Tournament, was lamenting that he was obliged to excuse

himself, on the ground of an attack of the gout.

 

"How," said he, "could I ever get my poor puffed legs into those

abominable iron boots?"

 

"It will be quite as appropriate," replied Hook, "if your Grace goes

in your _list_ shoes."

 

 

"THE ABATTOIR."

 

When Messrs. Abbott and Egerton, in 1836, took the old Coburg Theatre

(the Victoria), for the purpose of bringing forward the legitimate

drama, the former gentleman asked Hook if he could suggest a new

name, the old being too much identified with blue fire and broad

swords to suit the proposed change of performance. "Why," said

Theodore, "as, of course, you will butcher everything you attempt,

suppose you call it the _Abattoir_."

 

 

PUTNEY BRIDGE.

 

Hook's residence at Putney afforded occasion for the delivery of one

of the best of his best _bon-mots_. A friend, viewing Putney bridge

from the little terrace that overhung the Thames, observed that he

had been informed that it was a very good investment, and, turning

to his host, inquired "if such was the case--if the bridge really

answered?"

 

"I don't know," said Theodore, "but you have only to cross it, and

you are sure to be _tolled_."

 

 

"MR. THOMPSON IS TIRED."

 

Some years ago an ingenious representation of the destruction of

a Swiss village by an avalanche was exhibited at the Diorama in

the Regent's Park, the effect of which was greatly increased by a

clever vocal imitation of the dreary winter wind whistling through

the mountains; but this sound ceasing whilst the exigencies of

the scene still demanded its continuance, Theodore Hook, who was

present, exclaimed, "_Bless me, Mr. Thompson is tired_," which set

the spectators laughing, nor could they at all resume the awe-struck

gravity with which they had previously witnessed the tragic

picture.--_Edinburgh Review_, July, 1859.

 

 

THE ORIGINAL "PAUL PRY."

 

Tom Hill, the real original "Paul Pry," was reported to be of great

age; and Theodore Hook circulated the apology that his baptismal

register could not be found, because it was burnt in the Tower of

London.--_Henry Crabb Robinson's Diary._

 

Mr. Hill died aged not more than eighty-three--though Hook and all

his friends always affected to consider him as quite a Methuselah.

James Smith once said that it was impossible to discover his age,

for the parish register had been burnt in the fire of London; but

Hook capped this: "Pooh pooh! he's one of the Little Hills that are

spoken of as skipping in the Psalms." As a mere octogenarian he was

wonderful enough. No human being would, from his appearance, gait,

or habits, have guessed him to be sixty. Till within three months

of his death, he rose at five usually, and brought the materials

of his breakfast home with him to the Adelphi from a walk to

Billingsgate; and at dinner he would eat and drink like an adjutant

of five-and-twenty. One secret was that a "banyan day" uniformly

followed a festivity. He then nursed himself most carefully on tea

and dry toast, tasted neither meat nor wine, and went to bed by eight

o'clock. But perhaps the grand secret was, the easy, imperturbable

serenity of his temper. He had been kind and generous in the day

of his wealth, and, though his evening was comparatively poor, his cheerful heart kept its even beat.