DOI issue:
July 3, 1880
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17763#0313
JULY 3, 1880.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
309
THE BEADLE!
OR,
THE LATEST CHRONICLE OF SMALL-BEERJESTER.
BY
ANTHONY DOLLOP.
Author of11 The Chronicles of Bar sell shire,” “ Beer jester Brewers,” “ The Halfway House at Ale-
inton,” “ Thorley Farm for Cattle‘ ‘ Family Parsonage“ The Prying Minister,” “ Pearls
before Sicine, or, Who Used his Diamonds f ” “ Rub the Hair,” “The Way We Dye Now f
“ Fishy Fin,” “Fishy as Wildux,” “Dr. Thorne and David James” “ Star and Garter, Rich-
mond,’’ “Rachel Hooray/” “The Jellies of Jelly,” “The Bertrams and Roberts,” “Lady
Pye-Anna,” “ Tails of All Creatures,” “'Arry ’ Otspur,” “Mary Greasily,” “ Vicar of Pull-
baker,” “ McDermott of Balladsingerun,” “ Can’t You Forget Her?” “He Knew He Could
Write,” &c., fyc.
CHAPTER Y.
:ile Morleena
was eating her
shrimps that even-
ing, when her lover
was stepping ner-
vously across the
lawn, her mind
was anxiously in-
tent on some plan
for dealing with
Mr. John Bounce,
by which she might
extricate her
father from his
misery. Should
she accept him or
not F
He was within
twenty yards of
her as she pulled a
shrimp in two with
both hands, mur-
muring to herself
as though this
were to decide her
fate — ‘ ‘ Heads or
tails ? ”
The result, how-
ever, was that the
shrimp being beau-
tifully fresh, left
its extremities in
her fair hands.
“He comes here,” she said to herself, scarcely looking up from under her bonnet at Mr. Bounce,
who had stopped to offer a respectful salutation to her father, “with his own ends in view, like this
shrimp. And. also, like this shrimp, he is in my hands.”
Then she ate the shrimp. There remained to it neither head nor tail; these were on her plate,
and she had taken the shrimp’s body as though adopting a middle course. Then a radiant smile
illuminated her countenance, as she felt like Andromeda, freed from the rock, while the sea-
monster, the shrimp, lay at her feet. But who was to be her Perseus F Ah, there was the difficulty.
I am sorry to say that she determined to consider Mr. John Bounce as the sea-monster, of whom she
would rid herself without the aid of a Perseus, or, at all events, she could keep him at a distance
until the deliverer might appear.
Poor Morleena ! I don’t say that John Bounce is a favourite of mine, nor do I undertake—not
being an undertaker—that he shall marry her in the end, and live happily ever afterwards. She
has a feminine heart, and he has a manly head, though too fond of running it against brick walls,
and then finding himself dazed and on his back, while all the bricks are still in their proper places
deriding him. After all these little attentions on the part of John Bounce, which we, as lookers-on,
seeing most of the game, have observed, you must not be amazed, dear Ladies, if Morleena does
throw her admirer over in her own way and at her own time, and if I produce from some quite
unexpected corner a gentleman after my own heart, who shall woo and win her. Such things do
happen in societies as perfectly regulated as was that of the cathedral-town of Small-Beerjester.
Bounce’s heart was in his mouth, as Mr. Simon Simpler observed that the weather was cold for
the time of year, and that he couldn’t stop just now, as he had promised to g-ive a musical entertain-
ment, consisting of solos and fantasias on the Jews’ harp to the old Card-Sharpers of Deedler’s Trust.
At the mention of this name, Bounce’s heart sank within him, and was again in its right
place, as Mr. Simon Simpler retired within the house, and left him alone with his daughter.
There was a shrimp in Morleena’s hand, and another in her eye, as her father passed over the
threshold, and disappeared.
John Bounce had. not met her since one day the week before last at the station, when she was
trying to catch a fly, and he had told her that the noise she imagined to be that of a fly approach-
ing was only a Buz ; whereupon, suiting the action to the word, he offered her a Buss, which she
would not accept; and, in reply to his inquiry as to her luggage, answered that she only had one
box on the ear, which he should take from her hand, and carry away with him ; and then she left in
high dudgeon. It had subsequently struck him that even this box had a complimentary smack
about it; for had she not given him a private box all to himself for nothing, although it is true
there had been something in his manner of which he himself was unconscious, that led her to remark
that he “ was asking for it.”
Tea in The Arbour.
Never had she appeared more lovely
to her lover than she did now. Her
face was serious; yet there was a
saucy look in one eye, and a simple
child’s light in the other, that gave
to the latter a saucerer appearance,
and lit up her features with lustrous
energy ; her hand trembled as he
looked over it, took it, and played
with it; but suddenly remembering
that he had his own to play with
now, he dropped hers, after having
thrown out two hints. He would
have liked to have taken Miss, but
she did not ask him, and in fact she
could hardly pronounce his name
when she tried to address him.
For a second John Bounce glanced
at the teapot, and gave a significant
sniff. Was there just a suspicion of
the odour of “ Odour V.” mixed with
the Fau de Tea ?
“ No,” she replied sadly, answering
his mute interrogation. “Papa has
always said it is right to cross your
Teas, but never to mix your liquors.”
John Bounce was sorry—so sorry.
He really did not mean, he said,
what she meant. Perhaps not, she
replied, hut it was not the first time
that some people, she did not mention
names, had. misjudged her dear father
and herself. John was really grieved
—most grieved. He couldn’t have
imagined anyone so unjust. And then
he remarked, vapidly, that it was
warm for the time of year, to which
she replied that it would be warmer
for him before it had finished. He
thanked her, but he didn’t take tea,
he observed hesitatingly, whereupon
she rejoined that whether he took it
or not, she would make it hot for him
anyhow. Then he stooped down and
admired the china teapot.
“ Yes,” she said, “it is a great
success. Our teapot draws wonder-
fully.”
“ You are fond of teaf” inquired
Mr. Bounce, timidly.
“We are thorough Bohea-mians
here,” she replied. “lama sort of
Bohea-mian girl. But oh, Mr.
Bounce-,” and here she paused
and had recourse to her pookethand-
kerchief.
“ Hem ! ” coughed John Bounce,
anxiously.
“It is hemm’d already,” she re-
plied, plucking up her courage,
“ and I couldn’t do it now without a
stitch in the side. But oh, Mr.
Bounce—-’ And here she jumped
up impulsively, and stood at the
corner of the table, as her lover,
who had not calculated on this
sudden rise, made quickly for the
opposite corner.
“Oh,Mr.Bounce! ” she continued,
in an impassioned tone. “ It wasn’t
you who wrote that cruel, wicked,
nasty, slanderous, odious, libellous
article in the Penny Prometheus,
was it p” And she raised the heavy
antique china teapot above her head
with an energy that made John
Bounce wish the great Atlantic
were between him and his love.
“If,” he thought to himself, “I
could be only the other side of the
seaboard, instead of the teaboard ! ”
But he could only eagerly and loudly
protest, and then duck his head
quickly, to avoid the impending
danger. Old china had never been
much in his way; now it was, and
309
THE BEADLE!
OR,
THE LATEST CHRONICLE OF SMALL-BEERJESTER.
BY
ANTHONY DOLLOP.
Author of11 The Chronicles of Bar sell shire,” “ Beer jester Brewers,” “ The Halfway House at Ale-
inton,” “ Thorley Farm for Cattle‘ ‘ Family Parsonage“ The Prying Minister,” “ Pearls
before Sicine, or, Who Used his Diamonds f ” “ Rub the Hair,” “The Way We Dye Now f
“ Fishy Fin,” “Fishy as Wildux,” “Dr. Thorne and David James” “ Star and Garter, Rich-
mond,’’ “Rachel Hooray/” “The Jellies of Jelly,” “The Bertrams and Roberts,” “Lady
Pye-Anna,” “ Tails of All Creatures,” “'Arry ’ Otspur,” “Mary Greasily,” “ Vicar of Pull-
baker,” “ McDermott of Balladsingerun,” “ Can’t You Forget Her?” “He Knew He Could
Write,” &c., fyc.
CHAPTER Y.
:ile Morleena
was eating her
shrimps that even-
ing, when her lover
was stepping ner-
vously across the
lawn, her mind
was anxiously in-
tent on some plan
for dealing with
Mr. John Bounce,
by which she might
extricate her
father from his
misery. Should
she accept him or
not F
He was within
twenty yards of
her as she pulled a
shrimp in two with
both hands, mur-
muring to herself
as though this
were to decide her
fate — ‘ ‘ Heads or
tails ? ”
The result, how-
ever, was that the
shrimp being beau-
tifully fresh, left
its extremities in
her fair hands.
“He comes here,” she said to herself, scarcely looking up from under her bonnet at Mr. Bounce,
who had stopped to offer a respectful salutation to her father, “with his own ends in view, like this
shrimp. And. also, like this shrimp, he is in my hands.”
Then she ate the shrimp. There remained to it neither head nor tail; these were on her plate,
and she had taken the shrimp’s body as though adopting a middle course. Then a radiant smile
illuminated her countenance, as she felt like Andromeda, freed from the rock, while the sea-
monster, the shrimp, lay at her feet. But who was to be her Perseus F Ah, there was the difficulty.
I am sorry to say that she determined to consider Mr. John Bounce as the sea-monster, of whom she
would rid herself without the aid of a Perseus, or, at all events, she could keep him at a distance
until the deliverer might appear.
Poor Morleena ! I don’t say that John Bounce is a favourite of mine, nor do I undertake—not
being an undertaker—that he shall marry her in the end, and live happily ever afterwards. She
has a feminine heart, and he has a manly head, though too fond of running it against brick walls,
and then finding himself dazed and on his back, while all the bricks are still in their proper places
deriding him. After all these little attentions on the part of John Bounce, which we, as lookers-on,
seeing most of the game, have observed, you must not be amazed, dear Ladies, if Morleena does
throw her admirer over in her own way and at her own time, and if I produce from some quite
unexpected corner a gentleman after my own heart, who shall woo and win her. Such things do
happen in societies as perfectly regulated as was that of the cathedral-town of Small-Beerjester.
Bounce’s heart was in his mouth, as Mr. Simon Simpler observed that the weather was cold for
the time of year, and that he couldn’t stop just now, as he had promised to g-ive a musical entertain-
ment, consisting of solos and fantasias on the Jews’ harp to the old Card-Sharpers of Deedler’s Trust.
At the mention of this name, Bounce’s heart sank within him, and was again in its right
place, as Mr. Simon Simpler retired within the house, and left him alone with his daughter.
There was a shrimp in Morleena’s hand, and another in her eye, as her father passed over the
threshold, and disappeared.
John Bounce had. not met her since one day the week before last at the station, when she was
trying to catch a fly, and he had told her that the noise she imagined to be that of a fly approach-
ing was only a Buz ; whereupon, suiting the action to the word, he offered her a Buss, which she
would not accept; and, in reply to his inquiry as to her luggage, answered that she only had one
box on the ear, which he should take from her hand, and carry away with him ; and then she left in
high dudgeon. It had subsequently struck him that even this box had a complimentary smack
about it; for had she not given him a private box all to himself for nothing, although it is true
there had been something in his manner of which he himself was unconscious, that led her to remark
that he “ was asking for it.”
Tea in The Arbour.
Never had she appeared more lovely
to her lover than she did now. Her
face was serious; yet there was a
saucy look in one eye, and a simple
child’s light in the other, that gave
to the latter a saucerer appearance,
and lit up her features with lustrous
energy ; her hand trembled as he
looked over it, took it, and played
with it; but suddenly remembering
that he had his own to play with
now, he dropped hers, after having
thrown out two hints. He would
have liked to have taken Miss, but
she did not ask him, and in fact she
could hardly pronounce his name
when she tried to address him.
For a second John Bounce glanced
at the teapot, and gave a significant
sniff. Was there just a suspicion of
the odour of “ Odour V.” mixed with
the Fau de Tea ?
“ No,” she replied sadly, answering
his mute interrogation. “Papa has
always said it is right to cross your
Teas, but never to mix your liquors.”
John Bounce was sorry—so sorry.
He really did not mean, he said,
what she meant. Perhaps not, she
replied, hut it was not the first time
that some people, she did not mention
names, had. misjudged her dear father
and herself. John was really grieved
—most grieved. He couldn’t have
imagined anyone so unjust. And then
he remarked, vapidly, that it was
warm for the time of year, to which
she replied that it would be warmer
for him before it had finished. He
thanked her, but he didn’t take tea,
he observed hesitatingly, whereupon
she rejoined that whether he took it
or not, she would make it hot for him
anyhow. Then he stooped down and
admired the china teapot.
“ Yes,” she said, “it is a great
success. Our teapot draws wonder-
fully.”
“ You are fond of teaf” inquired
Mr. Bounce, timidly.
“We are thorough Bohea-mians
here,” she replied. “lama sort of
Bohea-mian girl. But oh, Mr.
Bounce-,” and here she paused
and had recourse to her pookethand-
kerchief.
“ Hem ! ” coughed John Bounce,
anxiously.
“It is hemm’d already,” she re-
plied, plucking up her courage,
“ and I couldn’t do it now without a
stitch in the side. But oh, Mr.
Bounce—-’ And here she jumped
up impulsively, and stood at the
corner of the table, as her lover,
who had not calculated on this
sudden rise, made quickly for the
opposite corner.
“Oh,Mr.Bounce! ” she continued,
in an impassioned tone. “ It wasn’t
you who wrote that cruel, wicked,
nasty, slanderous, odious, libellous
article in the Penny Prometheus,
was it p” And she raised the heavy
antique china teapot above her head
with an energy that made John
Bounce wish the great Atlantic
were between him and his love.
“If,” he thought to himself, “I
could be only the other side of the
seaboard, instead of the teaboard ! ”
But he could only eagerly and loudly
protest, and then duck his head
quickly, to avoid the impending
danger. Old china had never been
much in his way; now it was, and