nd his laugh-provoking
drolleries:--it would be considered a national calamity; but Mirth
protect ~61~~us from such a terrible mishap! Another sound from an
old cracked trumpet, something resembling a few notes of "Arm, Arm, ye
Brave," and an accompaniment by the great actor himself of a few more
"tut, tut, tutura, lura, lu's," in his own original style, have now
raised excitement to the highest pitch of expectation. The half inflated
lungs of the alderman expand by anticipation, and his full foggy
breathings upon the window-glass have already compelled me more than
once to use my handkerchief to clear away the mist. The assembled group
waiting the commencement of his adventures, now demands my notice. What
a scene for my friend Transit! I shall endeavour to depict it for him.
The steady looking old gentleman in the fire-shovel clerical castor,
how sagaciously he leers round about him to see if he is likely to
be recognised! not a countenance to whom he is known; he smiles with
self-complacency at the treat he is about to enjoy; plants himself in
a respectable doorway, for three reasons; first, the advantage from the
rise of the step increasing his altitude; second, the security of his
pockets from attacks behind; and third, the pretence, should any Goth to
whom he is known, observe him enjoying the scene, that he is just about
to enter the house, and has merely been detained there by accident.
Excellent apologist!--how ridiculous!--Excessive delicacy, avaunt! give
me a glorious laugh, and "throw (affectation) to the dogs; I'll have
none of it." Now the farce begins: up starts the immortal hero himself,
and makes his bow; a simultaneous display of "broad grins" welcomes
his felicitous entree; and for a few seconds the scene resembles the
appearance of a popular election candidate, Sir Francis Burdett, or
his colleague, little Cam Hobhouse, on the hustings in Covent Garden;
nothing is heard but one deafening shout of clamorous approbation.
Observe the butcher's boy has stopped his ~62~~horse to witness the fun,
spite of the despairing cook who waits the promised joint; and the jolly
lamp-lighter, laughing hysterically on the top of his ladder, is
pouring the oil from his can down the backs and into the pockets of the
passengers beneath, instead of recruiting the parish-lamp, while
the sufferers are too much interested in the exhibition to feel the
trickling of the greasy fluid. The baker, careless of the expectant
owner's