England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Health resorts -- Fiction
"My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the extreme honour to inform you
that the Publick Breakfast given to Sir Jeremy Dummer for the purpose of
commemorating his twenty-first consecutive winter at Curtain Wells will
be held (_Deo volente_) at the Town Hall to-morrow the fifteenth
instant."
A murmur of delighted anticipation ran round the Exquisite Mob while Sir
Jeremy Dummer who was verging on nonagenarian antiquity drew himself up
very erect, quivering and doddering with senile pride. "There will be
the usual loyal and personal toasts," continued the Beau, "and at the
conclusion of the entertainment the Company will adjourn to the Civic
Chamber, where I hope the ladies will be already arrived, in order to
partake of a dish of tea. I may add that the tea, duty paid, has been
generously presented by Mr. Hopkins of the High Street, well known to
many of you as the incomparable provider of the rarer dried delicacies
which have traced prodigal patterns over so many of your mahogany
tables."
The Exquisite Mob murmured its gratitude for the tea and the compliment
with much condescension and affableness, while the publick spirit of the
tradesman was generally extolled.
"To-night at precisely half-past six o'clock, Mrs. Dudding's
Conversazione. Quadrille tables for ninety-six players, Pope Joan for
the young and sprightly and--ahem--a Pharaoh table in order that our
gentlemen, Mrs. Dudding informs me, may have no valid excuse for
absenting themselves on the score of dullness. Chairs at precisely
half-past ten o'clock and I must request you, my lords, ladies and
gentlemen, to warn your chairmen that quarterstaff play with the poles
will be visited with your acutest displeasure. I am sorry to complain of
an abuse on a morning when the prospect of Nature is so vastly pleasant,
but last week the whooping and halloaing of the partizans caused me to
place Basto upon the Ponto of my Vis a Vis."
The Exquisite Mob sighed in sympathetick consternation as, with a
perceptible break in his voice, Mr. Ripple made this confession.
"And since I am temporarily launched upon unpleasant topicks, I must beg
for earlier and less riotous hours at the _Blue Boar_. It is exceedingly
ungenteel to throw quart bottles of Burgundy at the watch. The latter is
a fine body of men devoted to the service of an orderly and decent
society, and does not deserve a crown of plaisters as the result of
publishing the hour of the night and the state of the weather. However,
I will mention no names, gentlemen."
Lord Vanity, not feeling himself included in the last vocative, took a
pinch of Rappee and gazed very fiercely at my Lady Bunbutter through the
rheum and water of his ancient eyes. As her ladyship showed no signs of
a guilty conscience, the Earl took a second pinch and muttered "devilish
young cubs" under his breath.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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