CHAPTER XI

THE ORATIONS

SNUBBINS, the landlord, having ushered his distinguished guests into the balconied apartment of the first-floor front, Captain Doleful took a hasty review of his person at the looking-glass, placing his straggling hairs in the most conspicuous manner over his forehead, and loosening his oilskin-covered hat from his scarlet coat, he advanced with out-squared toes and elbows to present himself to the notice of the meeting.

His appearance in the balcony was the signal for a universal roar, amid which the drums and wind instruments did their duty. After bowing and grimacing most condescendingly to the meeting below, silence was at length obtained, and he proceeded to address them as follows:—

“Ladies and gentlemen,—ladies and gentlemen,” he repeated, laying the emphasis on the word ladies, and grinning like an elderly ape on all around, “encouraged by your smiles, by your applause, for, without you, as the poet Campbell beautifully enquires, ‘What is man?—a world without a sun,’ I present myself to your notice to perform an act that I verily and conscientiously believe will prove most conducive to the interest, the happiness, and general welfare of this thriving and important town.” Here the Captain placed his forefinger on his lip, and, according to previous arrangement with the drummers, they rumbled with their drums, and the children gave some loud huzzas, in conjunction with such of the mob as were troubled with a turn for shouting. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he resumed, “I stand not here for the gratification of the paltry personal vanity of addressing this distinguished assembly, but I present myself to your notice, in discharge of the high, the onerous, the honourable and all-important office of Master of the Ceremonies of this renowned Spa, to introduce to your notice the most distinguished, the most determined, the most popular, and the most scientific sportsman England, or any other country, ever saw (loud cheers). Need I say, gentlemen, that this illustrious individual is the great and renowned Mr. Jorrocks—a name familiar to our ears as Mr. Dickens’s household words—so familiar that it is even chalked on the walls of our town; and it is indeed a high—a flattering circumstance to my mind, that I—even I—the humble individual who now stands before you, should have been the means of procuring for a town that I love so ardently, a man of such unequalled excellence and such distinguished worth.”

Here Doleful being rather blown, put his finger to his lip again, upon which the drums rumbled, the horns twanged, and a round of applause was brewed up. He resumed,—“Gentlemen, the temporary cloud that obscured the brightness of our delightful town has passed away! another and a brighter sun has risen, beneath whose fostering rays, prosperity—bright, unequalled prosperity—shall renovate our homes, and draw forth blessings from your grateful hearts (cheers). This, gentlemen, is a thought that repays me for a world of trouble, and believe me that in all the changes and chances of this eventful life, amid all the frowns of life’s vicissitudes, the bright recollection of this hour will furnish consolation that a thousand woes will not outweigh (great applause). Let me not, however, ladies and gentlemen, dwell too long on the part I have happily, but unworthily played in this transaction. Let me not stand between that bright constellation of sporting knowledge and the indulgence of your laudable curiosity. Rather let me withdraw, with a bosom o’er-flowing with heartfelt gratitude for the honours your kindness has heaped upon me, and introduce to your notice our great and illustrious stranger.” Here Doleful squared out his elbows and bowed most humbly and condescendingly, first to the front, then to the east and west, and, courtier-like, backed from the balcony into the room, amid loud and long-continued cheers.

While he was delivering himself of all this eloquence, Mrs. Jorrocks was busy inside the room preparing her husband for presentation to the meeting. Having made him take off his versatio coat, she brushed his blue under one over, rubbed the velvet collar right, put his wig straight, and wiped the dust off his Hessian boots with a corner of the table-cover. Doleful came backing in, and nearly upset Jorrocks as he was standing on one leg by the table, undergoing the latter operation. “Now, it’s your turn, Mr. Jorrocks,” observed the Captain, on the former recovering his equilibrium, and thereupon they joined hands and advanced into the balcony, like the Siamese twins, amid the uproarious applause of the meeting

“’Ow are ye all?” said Mr. Jorrocks with the greatest familiarity, nodding round to the meeting, and kissing his hand. “’Opes you are well. Now my frind, Miserrimus, having spun you a yarn about who I am, and all that sort of thing, I’ll not run his foil, but get upon fresh ground, and say a few words about how matters are to be managed.

“You see I’ve come down to ’unt your country, to be master of your ’ounds, in fact,—and first of all I’ll explain to you what I means by the word master. Some people call a man a master of ’ounds wot sticks an ’orn in his saddle, and blows when he likes, but leaves every thing else to the ’untsman. That’s not the sort of master of ’ounds I mean to be. Others call a man a master of ’ounds wot puts in the paper Mr. So-and-so’s ’ounds meet on Monday, at the Loin o’ Lamb; on Wednesday, at the Brisket o’ Weal; and on Saturday, at the Frying-pan; and after that, jest goes out or not, as suits his conwenience—but that’s not the sort of master o’ hounds I means to be. Again, some call themselves masters of ’ounds when they pay the difference atwixt the subscription and the cost, leaving the management of matters, the receipt of money, payment of damage, and all them sort of partiklars, to the secretary. But that’s not the sort of master o’ ’ounds I means to be. Still, I means to ride with an ’orn in my saddle. Yonder it is, see,” said he, pointing to the package behind the carriage, “a regler Percival, silver mouth-piece, deep cup’d—and I means to adwertise the ’ounds in the paper, and not go sneakin’ about like some of them beggarly Cockney ’unts, wot look more as if they were goin’ to rob a hen-roost than ’unt a fox, but havin’ fixed the meets, I shall attend them most punctual and regler, and take off my cap to all payin’ subscribers as they come up (cheers). This, I thinks, will be the best way of doin’ business, for there are some men wot don’t care a copper for owin’ the master money, so long as the matter rests atwixt themselves, and yet who would not like to see me sittin’ among my ’ounds with my cap slouched over my eyes, takin’ no more notice of them than if they were as many pigs, as much as to say to all the gemmen round, ‘these are the nasty, dirty, seedy screws wot don’t pay their subscriptions.’

“In short I means to be an M.F.H. in reality, and not in name. When I sees young chaps careering o’er the country without lookin’ at the ’ounds, and in all humane probability not knowin’ or carin’ a copper where they are, and I cries, ‘’old ’ard!’ I shall expect to see them pull up, and not wait till the next fence fatches them too.”

Here Mr. Jorrocks made a considerable pause, whereupon the cheering and drumming was renewed, and as it died away, he went on as follows:—

“Of all sitivations under the sun, none is more enviable or more ’onerable than that of a master of fox’ounds! Talk of a M.P.! vot’s an M.P. compared to an M.F.H.? Your M.P. lives in a tainted hatmosphere among other M.P.’s and loses his consequence by the commonness of the office, and the scoldings he gets from those who sent him there, but an M.F.H. holds his levee in the stable, his levee in the kennel, and his levee in the ’untin’ field—is great and important every where—has no one to compete with him, no one to find fault, but all join in doing honour to him to whom honour is so greatly due (cheers). And oh, John Jorrocks! my good frind,” continued the worthy grocer, fumbling the silver in his small clothes with upturned eyes to heaven, “to think that you, after all the hups and downs of life—the crossin’s and jostlin’s of merchandise and ungovernable trade—the sortin’ of sugars—the mexin’ of teas—the postin’ of ledgers, and handlin’ of inwoices, to think that you, my dear feller, should have arrived at this distinguished post, is most miraculously wonderful, most singularly queer. Gentlemen, this is the proudest moment of my life! (cheers). I’ve now reached the top rail in the ladder of my hambition! (renewed cheers). Binjimin!” he holloaed out to the boy below, “Binjimin! I say, give an eye to them ’ere harticles behind the chay—the children are all among the Copenhagen brandy and Dundee marmeylad! Vy don’t you vollop them? Vere’s the use of furnishing you with a whip, I wonder?”

“To resume,” said he, after he had seen the back of the carriage cleared of the children, and the marmalade and things put straight. “’Untin’, as I have often said, is the sport of kings—the image of war without its guilt, and only five-and-twenty per cent. of its danger. To me the clink of the couples from a vipper-in’s saddle is more musical than any notes that ever came out of Greasey’s mouth (cheers). I doesn’t wish to disparage the walue of no man, but this I may say, that no Nabob that ever was foaled, loves ’untin’ better than me (cheers). It’s the werry breath of my body! The liver and bacon of my existence! I doesn’t know what the crazeyologists may say, but this I believes that my ’ead is nothin’ but one great bump of ’untin’ (cheers). ’Untin’ fills my thoughts by day, and many a good run I have in my sleep. Many a dig in the ribs I gives Mrs J. when I think they’re runnin’ into the warmint (renewed cheers). No man is fit to be called a sportsman wot doesn’t kick his wife out of bed on a haverage once in three weeks! (applause, mingled with roars of laughter). I’m none of your fine, dandified Rotten Row swells, that only ride out to ride ’ome again, but I loves the smell of the mornin’ hair, and the werry mud on my tops when I comes home of an evenin’ is dear to my ’eart (cheers). Oh, my frinds! if I could but go to the kennel now, get out the ’ounds, find my fox, have a good chivey, and kill him, for no day is good to me without blood, I’d—I’d—I’d—drink three pints of port after dinner ’stead of two! (loud cheers). That’s the way to show Diana your gratitude for favours past, and secure a continuance of her custom in future (cheers). But that we will soon do, for if you’ve—

no longer shall a master be wantin’ to lead you to glory (loud cheers). I’ll not only show you how to do the trick in the field, but a scientific course o’ lectors shall train the young idea in the art at ’ome. I’ve no doubt we shall all get on capitally—fox ’unters are famous fellows—tell me a man’s a fox-hunter, and I loves him at once. We’ll soon get ’quainted, and then you’ll say that John Jorrocks is the man for your money. At present I’ve done—hoping werry soon to meet you all in the field—I now says adieu.”

Hereupon Mr. Jorrocks bowed, and kissing his hand, backed out of the balcony, leaving his auditory to talk him over at their leisure.