"I had a writ againsht him, Mishter Coxsh, but I didn't
vant to shpoil shport; and, beshidesh, I didn't know him until dey
knocked off his shteel cap!"
*****
Here was a pretty business!
OVER-BOARDED AND UNDER-LODGED.
We had no great reason to brag of our tournament at Tuggeridgeville:
but, after all, it was better than the turn-out at Kilblazes, where poor
Lord Heydownderry went about in a black velvet dressing-gown, and
the Emperor Napoleon Bonypart appeared in a suit of armor and silk
stockings, like Mr. Pell's friend in Pickwick; we, having employed
the gentlemen from Astley's Antitheatre, had some decent sport for our
money.
We never heard a word from the Baron, who had so distinguished himself
by his horsemanship, and had knocked down (and very justly) Mr. Nabb,
the bailiff, and Mr. Stubbs, his man, who came to lay hands upon him. My
sweet Jemmy seemed to be very low in spirits after his departure, and
a sad thing it is to see her in low spirits: on days of illness she no
more minds giving Jemimarann a box on the ear, or sending a plate of
muffins across a table at poor me, than she does taking her tea.
Jemmy, I say, was very low in spirits; but, one day (I remember it was
the day after Captain Higgins called, and said he had seen the Baron at
Boulogne), she vowed that nothing but change of air would do her good,
and declared that she should die unless she went to the seaside in
France.
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