Sketches by Seymour Part 18

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DELICACY!

Lounging in Hyde Park with the facetious B____, all on a summer's day, just at that period when it was the fas.h.i.+on to rail against the beautiful statue, erected by the ladies of England, in honour of the Great Captain--

"The hero of a hundred fights,"--

"How proudly must he look from the windows of Apsley House," said I, "upon this tribute to his military achievements."

"No doubt," replied B____; and with all that enthusiasm with which one man of mettle ever regards another! At the same time, how lightly must he hold the estimation of the gallant sons of Britain, when he reflects that he has been compelled to guard his laurelled brow from the random bullets of a democratic mob, by shot-proof blinds to his n.o.ble mansion: this was:

'The unkindest cut of all,'

after all his hair-breadth 'scapes, by flood and field, in the service.

of his country, to be compelled to fortify his castle against domestic foes."

"A mere pa.s.sing cloud, that can leave no lasting impression on his great mind," said I; "while this statue will for ever remain, a memorial of his great deeds; and yet the complaint is general that the statue is indelicate--as if, forsooth, this was the first statue exhibited in 'puris naturalibus' in England. I really regard it as the senseless cavilling of envious minds."

"True," said B____, laughing; "there is a great deal of railing about the figure, but we can all see through it!" at the same time thrusting his walking-stick through the iron-fence that surrounds the pedestal. As for delicacy, it is a word that is used so indiscriminately, and has so many significations, according to the mode, that few people rightly understand its true meaning. We say, for instance, a delicate child; and pork-butchers recommend a delicate pig! Delicacy and indelicacy depend on the mind of the recipient, and is not so much in the object as the observer, rely on't. Some men have a natural apt.i.tude in discovering the indelicate, both in words and figures they appear, in a manner, to seek for it. I a.s.sure you that. I (you may laugh if you will) have often been put to the blush by the repet.i.tion of some harmless phrase, dropped innocently from my lips, and warped by one of these 'delicate' gentlemen to a meaning the very reverse of what I intended to convey. Like men with green spectacles, they look upon every object through an artificial medium, and give it a colour that has no existence in itself!

It was only last week, I was loitering about this very spot, when I observed, among the crowd of gazers, a dustman dressed in his best, and his plump doxy, extravagantly bedizened in her holiday clothes, hanging on his arm.

As they turned away, the lady elevated the hem of her rather short garments a shade too high (as the delicate dustman imagined) above her ancle. He turned towards her, and, in an audible whisper, said, 'Delicacy, my love--'delicacy!'--'Lawks, Fred!' replied the damsel, with a loud guffaw,'--'it's not fas.h.i.+onable!--besides, vot's the good o'

having a fine leg, if one must'nt show it?'

So much for opinions on delicacy!

"NOW JEM--"

"Now, Jem, let's shew these gals how we can row."

The tide is agin us, I know, But pull away, Jem, like a trump; Vot's that? O! my vig, it's a barge-- Oh! criky! but that vos a b.u.mp!

How lucky 'twas full o' round coals, Or ve might ha' capsized her--perhaps!

See, the bargemen are grinning, by goles!

I never seed sich wulgar chaps.

Come, pull away, Jem, like a man, A vherry's a coming along Vith a couple o' gals all agog-- So let us be first in the throng.

Now put your scull rig'ler in, Don't go for to make any crabs; But feather your oar, like a n.o.b, And show 'em ve're nothink but dabs!

The vaterman's leering at us, And the gals is a giggling so-- They take us for green'uns, but ve Vill soon show 'em how ve can row.

Alas! for poor Bobby's "show off"-- He slipp'd in a trice from his seat-- While his beaver fell into the stream, And the gals laugh'd aloud at his feat.

For his boots were alone to be seen, As he sprawled like a crab on its back; While the waterman cried--"Ho! my lads!

I think you'd best try t'other tack!"

Says Bobby--"You fool, it's your fault; Look--my best Sunday castor is vet: Pull ash.o.r.e, then, as fast as you can.

I can't row no more--I'm upset.

"I think that my napper is broke, Ab.u.mpin' agin this wile boat; You may laugh--but I think it's no joke: And I shan't soon agin be afloat.

"I'll never take you out agin-- I've had quite enough in this bout!"

Cried Jem--"Don't be angry vith me; Sit still, and I'll soon--PUT YOU OUT!"

STEAMING IT TO MARGATE.

"Steward, bring me a gla.s.s of brandy as quick as you can."

Since the invention of steam, thousands have been tempted to inhale the saline salubrity of the sea, that would never have been induced to try, and be tried, by the experiment of a trip. Like hams for the market, every body is now regularly salted and smoked. The process, too, is so cheap! The accommodations are so elegant, and the sailors so smart! None of the rolling roughness of quid-chewing Jack-tars. Jack-tars! pshaw!

they are regular smoke jacks on board a steamer! The Steward ("waiter"

by half the c.o.c.kneys called) is so ready and obliging; and then the provisions is excellent. Who would not take a trip to Margate? There's only one thing that rather adulterates the felicity--a drop of gall in the cup of mead!--and that is the horrid sea-sickness! learnedly called nostalgia; but call it by any name you please, like a stray dog, it is pretty sure to come.

The cold perspiration--the internal commotion--the brain's giddiness--the utter prostration of strength--the Oh! I never shall forget the death-like feel!--Fat men rolling on the deck, like fresh caught porpoises; little children floundering about; and white muslins and parasols vanis.h.i.+ng below! The smoking-hot dinner sends up its fumes, and makes the sick more sick. Soda-water corks are popping and flying about in every direction, like a miniature battery pointed against the a.s.saults of the horrid enemy!

"Steward!" faintly cries a fat bilious man, "bring me a gla.s.s of brandy as quick as you can."

But alas! he who can thus readily summon spirits from the vasty deep, has no power over the rolling sea, or its reaches!

"O! my poor pa!" exclaims the interesting Wilhelmina; and is so overcome, that she, sweet sympathizer! is soon below pa in the ladies' cabin. In fact, the greater part of the pleasure-seekers are taken--at full length.

Even young ladies from boarding-school, who are thinking of husbands, declare loudly against maritime delight! while all the single young men appear double.

The pier at last appears--and the cargo of drooping souls hail it with delight, and with as grateful a reverence as if they were received by the greatest peer of the realm!

They hurry from the boat as if 'twere Charon's, and they were about stepping into the fields of Elysium!

A change comes o'er the spirit of their dream--their nerves are braced; and so soon are mortal troubles obliterated from the mind, that in a few days they are ready again to tempt the terrors of sea-sickness in a voyage homewards--notwithstanding many of them, in their extremity, had vowed that they never would return by water, if they outlived the present infliction; considering, naturally enough, that it was "all up" with them!

PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE.

"Loud roared the dreadful thunder."--Bay of Biscay.

The good s.h.i.+p Firefly tossed and tumbled on the mountainous waves of the stormy sea, like a cork in a gutter; and when she could not stem the waves, politically tried a little tergiversation, and went stern foremost! The boatswain piped all hands, and poor Peter Simple piped his eye; for the cry of the whole crew was, that they were all going to Davy Jones's locker. The waves struck her so repeatedly, that at last she appeared as ungovernable as a scold in a rage; and as she found she could not, by any means, strike the storm in the wind, and so silence it, she gave vent to her fury by striking upon a rock!

Sketches by Seymour Part 18

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Sketches by Seymour Part 18 summary

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