The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 357, February 21, 1829Various
General
The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 13, No. 357, February 21, 1829
Various
Popular literature -- Great Britain -- Periodicals
"But--never mind," I say; "I shall see all the _boxes_ in time." So he
kick his leg upon the board, and cry "cheat!" and we are out into the
country in lesser than one minute, and roll at so grand pace, what I have
had fear we will be reversed. But after little times, I take courage, and
we begin to entertain together: but I hear one of the wheels cry squeak,
so I tell him, "Sir--one of the wheel would be greased;" then he make
reply, nonchalancely, "Oh--it is nothing but one of the _boxes_ what is
too tight." But it is very long time after as I learn that wheel a _box_
was pipe of iron what go turn round upon the axle.
Well--we fly away at the paces of charge. I see great castles, many; then
come a pretty house of country well ornamented, and I make inquire what
it should be. "Oh;" responsed he, "I not remember the gentleman's name,
but it is what we call a snug country _box_."
Then I feel myself abymed at despair, and begin to suspect that he amused
himself. But, still I tell myself, "Well--never mind; we shall see." And
then after sometimes, there come another house, all alone in a forest,
not ornated at all. "What, how you call that?" I demand of him.--"Oh!" he
responded again, "That is a shooting _box_ of Lord Killfots."--"Oh!" I
cry at last out, "that is little too strong;" but he hoisted his
shoulders and say nothing. Well, we come at a house of country, ancient,
with the trees cut like some peacocks, and I demand, "What you call these
trees?"--"_Box_, sir," he tell me. "Devil is in the _box_," I say at
myself. "But--never mind; we shall see." So I myself refreshed with a
pinch of snuff and offer him, and he take very polite, and remark upon an
instant, "That is a very handsome _box_ of yours, sir."
"Morbleu!" I exclaimed with inadvertencyness, but I stop myself. Then he
pull out his snuff-_box_, and I take a pinch, because I like at home to
be sociable when I am out at voyages, and not show some pride with
inferior. It was of wood beautiful with turnings, and colour of
yellowish. So I was pleased to admire very much, and inquire the name of
the wood, and again he say, "_Box_, Sir!" Well--I hold myself with
patience, but it was difficilly; and we keep with great gallop till we
come at a great crowd of the people. Then I say, "What for all so large
concourse?" "Oh!" he response again, "there is one grand _boxing_
match--a battle here to-day."--"Peste!" I tell myself, "a battle of
_boxes_! Well, never mind! I hope it can be a combat at the outrance, and
they all shall destroy one another, for I am fatigued."
Well--we arrive at an hotel, very superb, all as it ought, and I demand a
morsel to refresh myself. I go into a salon, but before I finish, great
noise come into the passage, and I pull the bell's rope to demand why so
great tapage? The waiter tell me, and he laugh at same time, but very
civil no less, "Oh, sir, it is only two of the women what quarrel, and
one has given another a _box_ on the ear."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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