England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
WE have made the most unparalleled and extraordinary exertions to place
before our readers a complete and accurate account of the proceedings at
the late grand meeting of the Mudfog Association, holden in the town of
Mudfog; it affords us great happiness to lay the result before them, in
the shape of various communications received from our able, talented, and
graphic correspondent, expressly sent down for the purpose, who has
immortalized us, himself, Mudfog, and the association, all at one and the
same time. We have been, indeed, for some days unable to determine who
will transmit the greatest name to posterity; ourselves, who sent our
correspondent down; our correspondent, who wrote an account of the
matter; or the association, who gave our correspondent something to write
about. We rather incline to the opinion that we are the greatest man of
the party, inasmuch as the notion of an exclusive and authentic report
originated with us; this may be prejudice: it may arise from a
prepossession on our part in our own favour. Be it so. We have no doubt
that every gentleman concerned in this mighty assemblage is troubled with
the same complaint in a greater or less degree; and it is a consolation
to us to know that we have at least this feeling in common with the great
scientific stars, the brilliant and extraordinary luminaries, whose
speculations we record.
We give our correspondent’s letters in the order in which they reached
us. Any attempt at amalgamating them into one beautiful whole, would
only destroy that glowing tone, that dash of wildness, and rich vein of
picturesque interest, which pervade them throughout.
‘_Mudfog_, _Monday night_, _seven o’clock_.
‘WE are in a state of great excitement here. Nothing is spoken of, but
the approaching meeting of the association. The inn-doors are thronged
with waiters anxiously looking for the expected arrivals; and the
numerous bills which are wafered up in the windows of private houses,
intimating that there are beds to let within, give the streets a very
animated and cheerful appearance, the wafers being of a great variety of
colours, and the monotony of printed inscriptions being relieved by every
possible size and style of hand-writing. It is confidently rumoured that
Professors Snore, Doze, and Wheezy have engaged three beds and a
sitting-room at the Pig and Tinder-box. I give you the rumour as it has
reached me; but I cannot, as yet, vouch for its accuracy. The moment I
have been enabled to obtain any certain information upon this interesting
point, you may depend upon receiving it.’
‘_Half-past seven_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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