Jorrocks' Jaunts and JollitiesSurtees, Robert Smith
General
Jorrocks' Jaunts and Jollities
Surtees, Robert Smith
England -- Fiction; Fox hunting -- Fiction; Hunting stories
_Stranger._ Thank you, sir, thank you. Those are things I never
interfere with--leave all these things to my people. My housekeeper
sends me in her book every quarter day, with an account of what she
pays. I just look at the amount--add so much for wages, and write a
cheque--"live and let live!" say I. However, added he, pulling out his
watch, and ringing the bell for the chambermaid, "I hate to get up very
early, so I think it is time to go to bed, and I wish you a very good
night, gentlemen all."
Jorrocks gets up, advances half-way to the door, makes him one of his
most obsequious bows, and wishes him a werry good night. Having heard
him tramp upstairs and safely deposited in his bedroom, they pulled
their chairs together again, and making a smaller circle round the fire,
proceeded to canvass their departed friend. Jorrocks began--"I say, wot
a regular swell the chap is--a Meltonian, too.--I wonders who the deuce
he is. Wish Mr. Nimrod was among us, he could tell us all about him, I
dare say. I'm blowed if I didn't take him for a commercial gentleman at
first, until he spoke about his carriages. I likes to see gentlemen
of fortune making themselves sociable by coming into the coffee-room,
instead of sticking themselves up in private sitting-rooms, as if nobody
was good enough for them. You know Melton, Mr. York; did you ever see
the gentleman out?"
"I can't say that I ever did," said his friend, "but people look so
different in their red coats to what they do in mufti, that there's no
such thing as recognising them unless you had a previous acquaintance
with them. The fields in Leicestershire are sometimes so large that it
requires a residence to get anything like a general knowledge of the
hunt, and, you know, Northamptonshire's the country for my money, after
Surrey, of course."
"I don't think he is a gentleman," observed a thin sallow-complexioned
young man, who, sitting on one side of the fire, had watched the
stranger very narrowly without joining in the conversation. "He gives me
more the idea of a gentleman's servant, acting the part of master, than
anything else."
_Jorrocks._ Oh! he is a gentleman, I'm sure--besides, a servant wouldn't
travel in a carriage you know, and he talked about greasing the wheels
and all that sort of thing, which showed he was familiar with the thing.
"That's very true," replied the youth--"but a servant may travel in the
rumble and pay for greasing the wheels all the same, or perhaps have to
grease them himself."
"Well, I should say he's a foolish purse-proud sort of fellow," observed
another, "who has come into money unexpectedly, and who likes to be the
cock of his party, and show off a little."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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