Merrie England In The Olden Time, Vol. 1 (of 2)
t promise, we have introduced Benjamin Bosky and Uncle Tim. We would now bespeak thy courtesy for others that are soo
le Timothy through this livelong day, would exhibit him, like "Patience," not sitting "on a monument, smiling at grief," but lolling in Mr. Bosky's britschka, laughing (in his sleeve!) at t
is a nymph we
aid the hypoc
rascals thr
and infam
guilt's most
vice she ne
meekness, grav
upon the ma
kept on the windy side of the law. They were vastly prone to measure other people's morality by the family bushel, and had exceedingly grand notions touching their s
nd when Mr. Muff, who was no herald, hearing something about Mr. Bosky's arms being painted on the panels, innocently inquired whether his legs were not painted too?-at which Uncle Timothy involuntarily smiled-the scarlet-liveried pride of the Fubsys rushed into her cheek
pplementary complaint, by way of errata, that there "was no pickles!"-and the carving-until the well-bred Mrs. Flumgarten snatched the knife and fork out of Uncle Timothy's hands-was "awful! horrid!" Then she never tastes such sherry as she does at her cousins' the Shufflebothams; and as for their black am
est their diminutive dignities; but as the fond sisters had the good fortune to be Fubsys, and as the Fubsys enjoyed the exclusive privilege of abusing one another with impunity, the sarcastic compliments and ironical sneers they so lovingly exchanged passed for nothing after the first fire. The absence of Mr. Flumgarten, a scholar and a
? Why, your greeneyed illiterate prejudices to mar all that makes the domestic hearth intellectual and happy!
and drinking organs, with a winning smile that would have made his fortune through a horse-collar, emerg
said Mrs. Flumgarten, soothi
nt," snuffled the self-
ig
the lump of living lumber, he did not venture to suppose,) "t
pping-rope, and
you p
s my time at du
to Mr. Timtiffin, do, dear
he effort, Mr. Brutus
ng in each hand
n this pic-tur
nter-co
p!" whispered
"Fit prese
r. Muff, as you always
er M
wo bro
ace was seate
-H
about curls and fr
y, which was bushily redolent of both; she darted a fierce f
er M
's to threaten
down, upon which Mrs. Flumgarten took his voice under her patronage, and having prevailed on him to try a song, the "young idea" began in an excruciating wheeze, as if a pair of b
s a litt
hung in
orning, May
n't sing
this rea
le, great
e pussey,
im, bones
is a song! None of your frothy comic st
cended to adulterate the patrician blood of St. Giles's in-the-Fields with the plebeian puddle of the City Gardens, the sometime suburban retreat of the Fubsys, where they farmed a ma
ing, Mr. Timwig," chimed t
e greater novelty. Come, my good sir
quite top-heavy! It must only be a half
l purple stream" till it kissed, without flowing over, the brim. Mr. Muff brought the bumper to a
?" cried the am
s?" ejaculated the bew
her," whispered the sat
glanced his little peering eyes across the table-Mrs. Muff having a voice too in the affair-for an assenting nod from the fierce black velvet turban of his better and
t lived up
is room by a
all M
ckete
k as he
tors s
nocker near Bl
b was not
ort, we
fair
e had
at, we
now-whi
ry vei
, Brutus!" vociferated Mrs. Muff. But the Cock
er Pott, "As I
atent pill on Tib
svallow, if di
ick the bucket,
r
rubbishing song? A man, too, after
Mu
r knew that a lee
nd could not, vhe
y
at her he opes hi
it vouldnt kill, n
my poor nerves?" remonstra
e stoical Brutus. "Vhat compass
id he, "I sve
and chattel
ig and
nocker
n vhich I cut
e pill (a pi
if Mrs. Po
thisic she'll
nt to take p
it
e newe
h laughing was
od reason-it fin
lumgarten, furiously, "fo
ivision!" shouted the valiant Mr. Muff, aspi
Teddy O'Blai
quite at i
my nose and th
the roots o
le you two or three!" And Mr. Muff, with admirable coolness and precision, filled himself a bumpe
-of-his-vife-and-a-broomstick Jerry Sneak and Pollycoddle, that the Vhitechapel pin-maker v
id Uncle Timothy,
Mrs. Flumgarten, "to s
ng, or I shall let the cat out of the bag, and the kittens
fectionate and blubbering first-born! When a chimney caught fire, it was a custom in Merrie England to drop down it a live goose, in the quality of extinguisher! And no goose ever performed its office better than the living Guy. He opened the flood-gates of his gooseberry eyes, and played upon pa so effectually, that Mr. Muff's ire or fire was speedily put out; and when, to prevent a coroner's inquest, the obedient child was motioned by the ladies to relax his filial embra
mwiddy!" screame
Timwig!" ech
, so aggravated the possible kickings, plungings, takings fright, and runnings away of that terrible left-wheeler, that the accommodating middle-aged gentleman was easily persuaded by the ladies to lighten the weight and diminish the danger, by returning to town by some other conveyance. And it was highly ente
ed his by humming the following, in which he encored himself s
splash along
nty periwigs
tough yarn tw
rry Sneak, and sa
a mare, and a c
all day long has
a
the fiddle I l
caper from the m
her tantrums,
r
ve her change, ho
y
her pretty fist, a
ow
gh her fingers, if
o
splash along
an gallop as a wom
ve heard my gran
l dr
nstead of me, this
ve