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for   a   half…holiday;   and   a   quiet   corner;   and   one   of   those   books   again! 

Those books; and perhaps those eyes with which we read them;                         and; it 

may be; the brains behind the eyes! It may be the tart was good;                   but how 

fresh the appetite was!        If the gods would give me the desire of my heart; 

I should be able to write a story which boys would relish for the next few 

dozen of centuries。        The boy…critic loves the story:           grown up; he loves 

the   author    who    wrote    the  story。   Hence      the  kindly    tie  is  established 

between writer and reader; and lasts pretty nearly for life。                I meet people 

now who don't care of Walter Scott; or the 〃Arabian Nights〃;                    I am sorry 

for   them;   unless   they   in   their   time   have   found   their   romancer      their 

charming Scheherazade。 By the way; Walter; when you are writing; tell me 

who   is   the   favourite   novelist   in   the   fourth   form   now?    Have   you   got 

anything so good and kindly as dear Miss Edgeworth's Frank?                      It used to 

belong to a fellow's sisters generally;          but though he pretended to despise 



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it; and said; 〃Oh; stuff for girls!〃 he read it;          and I think there were one or 

two passages which would try my eyes now; were I to meet with the little 

book。 

     As for Thomas and Jeremiah (it is only my witty way of calling Tom 

and Jerry); I went to the British Museum the other day on purpose to get it; 

but somehow; if you will press the question so closely; on reperusal; Tom 

and Jerry is not so brilliant as I had supposed it to be。                 The pictures are 

just as fine as ever; and I shook hands with broad…backed Jerry Hawthorn 

and   Corinthian   Tom   with   delight;   after   many   year's   absence。          But   the 

style of the writing; I own; was not pleasing to me;                   I even thought it a 

little vulgar  well! well! other writers have been considered vulgar  and 

as   a   description of   the sports   and   amusements   of   London   in   the   ancient 

times; more curious than amusing。 

     But   the   pictures!      oh!   the   pictures   are   noble   still! First;   there   is 

Jerry   arriving   from   the   country;   in   a   green   coat   and   leather   gaiters;   and 

being measured for a fashionable suit at Corinthian House; by Corinthian 

Tom's   tailor。     Then   away   for   the   career   of   pleasure   and   fashion。     The 

park!   delicious   excitement!   The   theatre!   the   saloon!!   the   green…room!!! 

Rapturous   bliss      the   opera   itself!   and   then   perhaps   to   Temple   Bar;   to 

knock down a Charley there!              There are Jerry and Tom; with their tights 

and little cocked hats; coming from the opera  very much as gentlemen 

in waiting on royalty are habited now。               There they are at Almack's itself; 

amidst     a   crowd    of   high…bred     personages;     with   the   Duke     of  Clarence 

himself looking at them dancing。              Now; strange change; they are in Tom 

Cribb's parlour; where they don't seem to be a whit less at home than in 

fashion's   gilded   halls;   and   now   they   are   at   Newgate;   seeing   the   irons 

knocked off the malefactors' legs previous to execution。                    What hardened 

ferocity in the countenance of the desperado in yellow breeches!                        What 

compunction in   the face   of the   gentleman in black (who;  I suppose; has 

been     forging);   and   who     clasps   his   hands;   and   listens   to   the  chaplain! 

Now we haste away to merrier scenes:                to Tattersall's (ah gracious powers! 

what   a   funny  fellow  that   actor   was   who   performed   Dicky  Green   in   that 

scene     in   the  play!);    and     now    we    are  at   a  private   party;   at  which 

Corinthian Tom is waltzing (and very gracefully too; as you must confess) 



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with   Corinthian   Kate;   whilst   Bob   Logic;   the   Oxonian;   is   playing   on   the 

piano! 

     〃After;〃 the text says; 〃the Oxonian had played several pieces of lively 

music;   he   requested   as   a   favour   that   Kate   and   his   friend   Tom   would 

perform   a    waltz。    Kate     without    any   hesitation   immediately      stood    up。 

Tom offered his hand to his fascinating partner; and the dance took place。 

The plate conveys a correct representation of the ‘gay scene' at that precise 

moment。       The   anxiety   of   the   Oxonian   to   witness   the   attitudes   of    the 

elegant pair had nearly put a stop to their movements。                 On turning round 

from the pianoforte and presenting his comical mug; Kate could scarcely 

suppress a laugh。〃 

     And no wonder;         just look at it now (as I have copied it to the best of 

my humble ability); and compare Master Logic's countenance and attitude 

with   the   splendid   elegance   of   Tom!     Now   every   London   man   is   weary 

and blase。      There is an enjoyment of life in these young bucks of 1823 

which contrasts strangely with our feelings of 1860。                 Here; for instance; 

is a specimen of their talk and walk; 〃‘If;' says LOGIC  ‘if enjoyment is 

your motto; you may make the most of an evening at Vauxhall; more than 

at any other place in the metropolis。           It is all free and easy。     Stay as long 

as you like; and depart when you think proper。'  ‘Your description is so 

flattering;' replied JERRY; ‘that I do not care how soon the time arrives for 

us to start。'    LOGIC proposed a ‘bit of a stroll' in order to get rid of an 

hour or two; which was immediately accepted by Tom and Jerry。                       A turn 

or    two    in  Bond     Street;   a   stroll  through     Piccadilly;    a   look    in  at 

TATTERSALL's; a ramble through Pall Mall; and a strut on the Corinthian 

path; fully occupied the time of our heroes until the hour for dinner arrived; 

when a few glasses of TOM's rich wines soon put them on the qui vive。 

VAUXHALL was then the object in view; and the TRIO started; bent upon 

enjoying the pleasures which this place so amply affords。〃 

     How nobly those inverted commas; those italics; those capitals; bring 

out   the   writer's   wit   and   relieve   the   eye!  They   are   as   good   as   jokes; 

though you mayn't quite preceive the point。              Mark the varieties of lounge 

in   which   the   young   men   indulge      now   a   stroll;   then   a   look   in;   then   a 

ramble; and presently a strut。 When George; Prince of Wales; was twenty; I 



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have read in an old Magazine; 〃the Prince's lounge〃 was a peculiar manner 

of walking which the young bucks imitated。                   At Windsor George III。 had 

a cat's path  a sly early walk which the good old king took in the grey 

morning before his household was astir。                  What was the Corinthian path 

here   recorded?       Does   any   antiquary   know?          And   what   were   the       rich 

wines which our friends took; and which enable them to enjoy Vauxhall? 

Vauxhall   is   gone;   but   the   wines   which   could   occasion   such   a   delightful 

perversion of the intellect as to enable it to enjoy ample pleasures there; 

what were they? 

     So the game of life proceeds; until Jerry Hawthorn; the rustic; is fairly 

knocked up by all this excitement and is forced to go home; and the last 

picture represents him getting into the coach at the 〃White Horse Cellar;〃 

he   being   one   of   six   inside;   whilst   his   friends   shake   him   by   the   hand; 

whilst   the   sailor   mounts   on   the   roof;    whilst   the   Jews   hang   round   with 

oranges;  knives;   and   sealing…wax:          whilst   the guard   is   closing   the   door。 

Where   are   they  now;   those   sealing…wax   vendors?   where   are   the   guards? 

where   are   the   jolly  teams?   where   are the   coaches?   and   where   the   youth 

that   climbed   inside   and   out   of   them;     that   heard   the   merry   horn   which 

sounds   no   more;       that   saw   the   sun   rise   over   Stonehenge;   that   rubbed 

away the bitter tears at night after parting as the coach sped on the journey 

to    school    and    London;       that   looked     out   with    beating     heart   as   the 

milestones       flew   by;   for  the   welcome       corner    where     began    home     and 

holidays。 

     I

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