A Little Dinner at Timmins'sThackeray, William Makepeace
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A Little Dinner at Timmins's
Thackeray, William Makepeace
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
It is up there that they invent the legends for the crackers, and the
wonderful riddles and remarks on the bonbons. No mortal, I am sure,
could write them.
I never saw a man in such a state as Fitzroy Timmins in the presence of
those ravishing houris. Mrs. Fitz having explained that they required a
dinner for twenty persons, the chief young lady asked what Mr. and
Mrs. Fitz would like, and named a thousand things, each better than the
other, to all of which Fitz instantly said yes. The wretch was in such
a state of infatuation that I believe if that lady had proposed to him a
fricasseed elephant, or a boa-constrictor in jelly, he would have said,
“O yes, certainly; put it down.”
That Peri wrote down in her album a list of things which it would make
your mouth water to listen to. But she took it all quite calmly. Heaven
bless you! THEY don't care about things that are no delicacies to them!
But whatever she chose to write down, Fitzroy let her.
After the dinner and dessert were ordered (at Fubsby's they furnish
everything: dinner and dessert, plate and china, servants in your own
livery, and, if you please, guests of title too), the married couple
retreated from that shop of wonders; Rosa delighted that the trouble of
the dinner was all off their hands but she was afraid it would be rather
expensive.
“Nothing can be too expensive which pleases YOU, dear,” Fitz said.
“By the way, one of those young women was rather good-looking,” Rosa
remarked: “the one in the cap with the blue ribbons.” (And she cast
about the shape of the cap in her mind, and determined to have exactly
such another.)
“Think so? I didn't observe,” said the miserable hypocrite by her side;
and when he had seen Rosa home, he went back, like an infamous fiend, to
order something else which he had forgotten, he said, at Fubsby's. Get
out of that Paradise, you cowardly, creeping, vile serpent you!
Until the day of the dinner, the infatuated fop was ALWAYS going
to Fubsby's. HE WAS REMARKED THERE. He used to go before he went to
chambers in the morning, and sometimes on his return from the Temple:
but the morning was the time which he preferred; and one day, when he
went on one of his eternal pretexts, and was chattering and flirting at
the counter, a lady who had been reading yesterday's paper and eating
a halfpenny bun for an hour in the back shop (if that paradise may be
called a shop)--a lady stepped forward, laid down the Morning Herald,
and confronted him.
That lady was Mrs. Gashleigh. From that day the miserable Fitzroy was in
her power; and she resumed a sway over his house, to shake off which had
been the object of his life, and the result of many battles. And for a
mere freak--(for, on going into Fubsby's a week afterwards he found the
Peris drinking tea out of blue cups, and eating stale bread and butter,
when his absurd passion instantly vanished)--I say, for a mere freak,
the most intolerable burden of his life was put on his shoulders
again--his mother-in-law.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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