Jorrocks' Jaunts and JollitiesSurtees, Robert Smith
General
Jorrocks' Jaunts and Jollities
Surtees, Robert Smith
England -- Fiction; Fox hunting -- Fiction; Hunting stories
Perhaps you'll present
your friend to me," added he in the same breath, with a glance at the
Yorkshireman, upon whose arm Mr. Jorrocks was resting his telescope
hand. "Much pleasure," replied Mr. Jorrocks, with his usual urbanity.
"Allow me to introduce Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Green, Mr. Green, Mr. Stubbs: now
pray shake hands," added he, "for I'm sure you'll be werry fond of each
other"; and thereupon Jemmy, in the most patronising manner, extended
his two forefingers to the Yorkshireman, who presented him with one in
return. For the information of such of our readers as may never have
seen Mr. James Green, senior junior, either in Tooley Street, Southwark,
where the patronymic name abounds, or at Messrs. Tattersall's, where he
generally exhibits on a Monday afternoon, we may premise, that though a
little man in stature, he is a great man in mind and a great swell in
costume. On the present occasion, as already stated, he had on a woolly
white hat, his usual pea-green coat, with a fine, false, four-frilled
front to his shirt, embroidered, plaited, and puckered, like a lady's
habit-shirt. Down the front were three or four different sorts of studs,
and a butterfly brooch, made of various coloured glasses, sat in
the centre. His cravat was of a yellow silk with a flowered border,
confining gills sharp and pointed that looked up his nostrils; his
double-breasted waistcoat was of red and yellow tartan with blue glass
post-boy buttons; and his trousers, which were very wide and cut out
over the foot of rusty-black chamois-leather opera-boots, were of a
broad blue stripe upon a white ground. A curly, bushy, sandy-coloured
wig protruded from the sides of his woolly white hat, and shaded a
vacant countenance, which formed the frontispiece of a great chuckle
head. Sky-blue gloves and a stout cane, with large tassels, completed
the rigging of this borough dandy. Altogether he was as fine as any
peacock, and as vain as the proudest.
"And 'ow is Mrs. J----?" inquired Green with the utmost affability--"I
hopes she's uncommon well--pray, is she of your party?" looking round.
"Why, no," replied Mr. Jorrocks, "she's off at Tooting at her mother's,
and I'm just away, on the sly, to stay a five-pound at Margate this
delightful weather. 'Ow long do you remain?" "Oh, only till Monday
morning--I goes every Saturday; in fact," added he in an undertone,
"I've a season ticket, so I may just as well use it, as stay poking in
Tooley Street with the old folks, who really are so uncommon glumpy,
that it's quite refreshing to get away from them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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