Jorrocks' Jaunts and JollitiesSurtees, Robert Smith
General
Jorrocks' Jaunts and Jollities
Surtees, Robert Smith
England -- Fiction; Fox hunting -- Fiction; Hunting stories
"You must be 'ungry," observed Mr. Jorrocks, with great politeness
to the lady, "after all your exertions," as the latter stood mopping
herself with a coarse linen handkerchief--"pray, James, bring your
partner to our 'amper, and let me offer her some refreshment," which was
one word for the Sunflower and two for himself, the sea breeze having
made Mr. Jorrocks what he called "unkimmon peckish." The hamper was
speedily opened, the knuckle of veal, the half ham, the aitch bone of
beef, the Dorking sausages (made in Drury Lane), the chickens, and
some dozen or two of plovers' eggs were exhibited, while Green, with
disinterested generosity, added his baked pigeon and cold maccaroni to
the common stock. A vigorous attack was speedily commenced, and was kept
up, with occasional interruptions by Green running away to dance, until
they hove in sight of Herne Bay, which caused an interruption to a
very interesting lecture on wines, that Mr. Jorrocks was in the act of
delivering, which went to prove that port and sherry were the parents of
all wines, port the father, and sherry the mother; and that Bluecellas,
hock, Burgundy, claret, Teneriffe, Madeira, were made by the addition
of water, vinegar, and a few chemical ingredients, and that of all
"humbugs," pale sherry was the greatest, being neither more nor less
than brown sherry watered. Mr. Jorrocks then set to work to pack up the
leavings in the hamper, observing as he proceeded, that wilful waste
brought woeful want, and that "waste not, want not," had ever been the
motto of the Jorrocks family.
It was nearly eight o'clock ere the _Royal Adelaide_ touched the point
of the far-famed Margate Jetty, a fact that was announced as well by the
usual bump, and scuttle to the side to get out first, as by the band
striking up _God save the King_, and the mate demanding the tickets of
the passengers. The sun had just dropped beneath the horizon, and the
gas-lights of the town had been considerately lighted to show him to
bed, for the day was yet in the full vigour of life and light.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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