Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.: Or, The Rambles and Adventures of Bob Tallyho, Esq., and His Cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, Through the Metropolis; Exhibiting a Living Picture of Fashionable Characters, Manners, and Amusements in High and Low Life (1821)Badcock, John, active 1816-1830
General
Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.: Or, The Rambles and Adventures of Bob Tallyho, Esq., and His Cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, Through the Metropolis; Exhibiting a Living Picture of Fashionable Characters, Manners, and Amusements in High and Low Life (1821)
Badcock, John, active 1816-1830
London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
~47~~THE smiles of a May morning, bedecked with the splendid rays of a
rising sun, awakened Tallyho about five o'clock, and being accustomed to
rise early in the country, he left the downy couch of soft repose, and
sought his way down stairs. Not a sound of any kind was to be heard in
the house, but the rattling of the carts and the coaches in the streets,
with the deep-toned accompaniment of a dustman's bell, and an occasional
_ab libitum_ of “Clothes--clothes sale,” gave Bob an idea that all the
world was moving. However he could find nobody up; he walked into the
drawing-room, amused himself for some time by looking out of the window,
indulging his observations and remarks, without knowing what to make of
the moving mass of incongruities which met his eye, and wondering what
time the servants of the house would wake: he tried the street-door, but
found it locked, bolted, and chained; and if he had known where to have
found his friend Tom, he would have aroused him with _the View halloo_.
“It is strange,” thought he to himself, “all the world seems abroad,
and yet not a soul stirring here!” Then checking the current of his
reflections, “But this,” said he, “is Life in London. Egad! I must not
make a noise, because it will not be _good breeding_.” In this wray he
sauntered about the house for near two hours, till at last espying his
portmanteau, which had been left in the passage by the servants the
previous evening--“I'll carry this up stairs,” said he, “by way of
amusement;” and carelessly shouldering the portmanteau, he was walking
~48~~deliberately up stairs, when his ears were suddenly attracted by a
loud cry of “Murder, murder, thieves, murder!” and the violent ringing
of a bell. Alarmed at these extraordinary sounds, which appeared to be
near him at a moment when he conceived no soul was stirring, he dropped
his portmanteau over the banisters, which fell, (demolishing in its way
an elegant Grecian patent lamp with glass shades, drops, &c.) into the
passage below with a hideous crash, while the cry of Murder, thieves,
murder, was repeated by many voices, and rendered him almost immoveable.
In the next moment, the butler, the cook, the groom, and indeed every
person in the house, appeared on the stair-case, some almost in a state
of nudity, and shrinking from each other's gaze, and all armed with
such weapons as chance had thrown in their way, to attack the supposed
depredator.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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