However, being above all things desirous not to let slip the golden
opportunity and pocket the root of all evil, I decided to let my
diffidence go to the wall and boldly record every jot and tittle,
however humdrum, with the critical reflections and censorious
observations arising therefrom, remembering that, though the fabulous
and mountain-engendered mouse was no doubt at the time considered but a
fiasco and flash in the pan by its maternal progenitor, nevertheless
that same identical mouse rendered yeomanry services at a subsequent
period to the lion involved in the compromising intricacies of a
landing-net!
Benevolent reader, _de te fabula narratur_. Perchance the mousey
bantlings of my insignificant brain may nibble away the cords of
prejudice and exclusiveness now encircling many highly respectable
British lions. Be not angry with me therefore, if in the character of a
damned but good-natured friend, I venture on occasions to "hint dislike
and hesitate disgust."
The majestic and magnificent matron, under whose aegis I reside for rs.
20 per week, is of lofty lineage, though fallen from that high estate
into the peck of troubles, and compelled (owing to severely social
disposition) to receive a number of small and select boarders.
Like _Jepthah_, in the play of _Hamlet_, she has one fair daughter and
no more, a bewitching and well-proportioned damsel, as fine as a
fivepence or a May-day queen. Notwithstanding this, when I summon up my
courage to address her, she receives my laborious politeness with a
cachinnation like that of a Cheshire cheese, which strikes me all of a
heap. Her female parent excuses to me such flabbergasting demeanour on
the plea that her daughter is afflicted with great shyness and maidenly
modesty, but, on perceiving that she can be skittish and genial in the
company of other masculines, I am forced to attribute her
contumeliousness to the circumstance that I am a native gentleman of a
dark complexion.
In addition, I have the honour to inform you of further specimens of
this inurbanity and bearishness from officials who are perfect strangers
to the writer. Each morning I journey through the subterranean bowels of
the earth to the Temple, and on a recent occasion, when I was
descending the stairs in haste to pop into the train, lo and behold,
just as I reached the gate, it was shut in my nose by the churlishness
of the jack-in-office!
At which, stung to the quick at so unprovoked and unpremeditated an
affront, I accosted him severely through the bars of the wicket,
demanding sarcastically, "Is _this_ your boasted British Jurisprudence?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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