John Leech, His Life and Work. Vol. 1 [of 2]Frith, William Powell
General
John Leech, His Life and Work. Vol. 1 [of 2]
Frith, William Powell
Leech, John, 1817-1864
My lovely friend was full of the
curiosity peculiar to her sex, which showed itself in her anxiety to
know who and what I was. To tell the truth, I was equally curious to
know who she was, and what her friends were.
"Well," said I, "if you will tell me who you are, I will tell you who I
am and what I am."
"Oh," was the reply, "I think I know what you are; but what's your
name?"
"You know what I am?" said I, surprised; "what am I?"
"Well, you are in the same line that we are, I fancy."
"And what line is that?"
"The army tailoring. Am I right?"
In the illustration that accompanies these remarks Leech has succeeded
in presenting to us a Norman knight completely characteristic, a
Crusader more real, I think, than any modern could have rendered him.
The lady he escorts, in a dress a few hundred years after Crusading
times, is very lovely. The capital little Marchioness, with the big
door-key, the four-wheeler, and the laughing crowd, make up a scene of
inimitable humour.
We now come to the first of those precocious youths in whose mannish
ways, whose delightful impertinence to their elders, whose early
susceptibility to the passion of love for ladies three times older than
themselves, are shown by Leech in many a scene I should have given to my
readers, but over them the Copyright Act stands guard. "'Tis true, 'tis
pity, pity 'tis, 'tis true," that in a book intended solely to do honour
to Leech's genius, so many of the most perfect examples of it are denied
to us.
[Illustration: "SIR! PLEASE, MR.! SIR! YOU'VE FORGOT THE DOOR-KEY!"]
Well may the governor stare with open-mouthed astonishment at such a
proposal from such a creature! Look at him as he throws his little arm
over his chair in the swaggering attitude he has so often observed in
his elders, and raises a full glass of claret! "Just as the twig is bent
the tree's inclined;" but that we know that in this instance the twig is
indulging in a harmless freak, one might be inclined to dread the tree's
inclining.
[Illustration: ETON BOY (_loq._): "Come, governor! just one toast--'The
Ladies'!"]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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