The Sketches of Seymour, Robert Seymour [reading books for 7 year olds .txt] 📗

the life out o' one dicky-bird - and put a whole charge into a calf. Vy, if ve go on at this rate we shall certainly be taken up and get a setting down in the twinkling of a bed-post!"

"See if I haim at any think agin but vot's sitting on a rail or a post"
- said Mr. Richard - "or s'pose Spriggs you goes on von side of an 'edge and me on t'other - and ve'll get the game between us - and then - "

"Thankye for me, Dick," interrupted Spriggs, "but that'll be a sort o' cross-fire that I sha'n't relish no how. - Vy it'll be just for all the world like fighting a jewel - on'y ve shall exchange shots - p'r'aps vithout any manner o' satisfaction to 'ither on' us. No - no - let's shoot beside von another - for if ve're beside ourselves ve may commit suicide."

"My vig!" cries Mr. Grubb, "there's a covey on 'em."

"Vere?"

"There!"

"Charge 'em, my lad."

"Stop! fust charge our pieces."

Having performed this preliminary act, the sportsmen crouched in a dry ditch and crawled stealthily along in order to approach the tempting covey as near as possible.

Up flew the birds, and with trembling hands they simultaneously touched the triggers.

"Ve've nicked some on 'em."

"Dead as nits," said Spriggs.

"Don't be in an hurry now," said the cautious Mr. Grubb, "ve don't know for certain yet, vot ve hav'n't hit."

"It can't be nothin' but a balloon then," replied Spriggs, "for ve on'y fired in the hair I'll take my 'davy."

Turning to the right and the left and observing nothing, they boldly advanced in order to appropriate the spoil.

"Here's feathers at any rate," said Spriggs, "ve've blown him to shivers, by jingo!"

"And here's a bird! hooray!" cried the delighted Grubb - "and look'ee, here's another - two whole 'uns - and all them remnants going for nothing as the linen-drapers has it!"

"Vot are they, Dick?" inquired Spriggs, whose ornithological knowledge was limited to domestic poultry; "sich voppers ain't robins or sparrers, I take it."

"Vy!" said the dubious Mr. Richard-resting on his gun and throwing one leg negligently over the other - "I do think they're plovers, or larks, or summat of that kind."

"Vot's in a name; the thing ve call a duck by any other name vould heat as vell!" declaimed Spriggs, parodying the immortal Shakspeare.

"Talking o' heating, Spriggs - I'm rayther peckish - my stomick's bin a-crying cupboard for a hour past. - Let's look hout for a hinn!"


CHAPTER V.

An extraordinary Occurrence - a Publican taking Orders.


Tying the legs of the birds together with a piece of string, Spriggs proudly carried them along, dangling at his fingers' ends.

After tramping for a long mile, the friends at length discovered, what they termed, an house of "hentertainment."

Entering a parlour, with a clean, sanded floor, (prettily herring-boned, as the housemaids technically phrase it,) furnished with red curtains, half a dozen beech chairs, three cast-iron spittoons, and a beer-bleached mahogany table, - Spriggs tugged at the bell. The host, with a rotund, smiling face, his nose, like Bardolph's, blazing with fiery meteors, and a short, white apron, concealing his unmentionables, quickly answered the tintinabulary summons.

"Landlord," said Spriggs, who had seated himself in a chair, while Mr. Richard was adjusting his starched collar at the window; - "Landlord! ve should like to have this 'ere game dressed."

The Landlord eyed the 'game' through his spectacles, and smiled.

"Roasted, or biled, Sir?" demanded he.

"Biled? - no: - roasted, to be sure!" replied Spriggs, amazed at his pretended obtuseness: "and, I say, landlord, you can let us have plenty o' nice wedgetables."

"Greens?" said the host; - but whether alluding to the verdant character of his guests, or merely making a polite inquiry as to the article they desired, it was impossible, from his tone and manner, to divine.

"Greens!" echoed Spriggs, indignantly; "no: - peas and 'taters."

"Directly, Sir," replied the landlord; and taking charge of the two leetle birds, he departed, to prepare them for the table.

"Vot a rum cove that 'ere is," said Grubb.

"Double stout, eh?" said Spriggs, and then they both fell to a-laughing; and certain it is, that, although the artist has only given us a draught of the landlord, he was a subject sufficient for a butt!

"Vell! I must, say," said Grubb, stretching his weary legs under the mahogany, "I never did spend sich a pleasant day afore - never!"

"Nor I," chimed in Spriggs, "and many a day ven I'm a chopping up the 'lump' shall I think on it. It's ralely bin a hout and houter! Lauk! how Suke vill open her heyes, to be sure, ven I inform her how ve've bin out with two real guns, and kill'd our own dinner. I'm bless'd if she'll swallow it!"

"I must say ve have seen a little life," said Grubb.

"And death too," added Spriggs. "Vitness the pig!"

"Now don't!" remonstrated Grubb, who was rather sore upon this part of the morning's adventures.

"And the gardener," - persisted Spriggs.

"Hush for goodness sake!" said Mr. Richard, very seriously, "for if that 'ere affair gets vind, ve shall be blown, and - "

- In came the dinner. The display was admirable and very abundant, and the keen air, added to the unusual exercise of the morning, had given the young gentlemen a most voracious appetite.

The birds were particularly sweet, but afforded little more than a mouthful to each.

The 'wedgetables,' however, with a due proportion of fine old Cheshire, and bread at discretion, filled up the gaps. It was only marvellous where two such slender striplings could find room to stow away such an alarming quantity.

How calm and pleasant was the 'dozy feel' that followed upon mastication, as they opened their chests (and, if there ever was a necessity for such an action, it was upon this occasion,) and lolling back in their chairs, sipped the 'genuine malt and hops,' and picked their teeth!

The talkative Spriggs became taciturn. His gallantry, however, did prompt him, upon the production of a 'fresh pot,' to say,

"Vell, Grubbs, my boy, here's the gals!"

"The gals!" languidly echoed Mr. Richard, tossing off his tumbler, with a most appropriate smack.


CHAPTER VI.

The Reckoning.


"Pull the bell, Spriggs," said Mr. Richard, "and let's have the bill."

Mr. Augustus Spriggs obeyed, and the landlord appeared.

"Vot's to pay?"

"Send you the bill directly, gentlemen," replied the landlord, bowing, and trundling out of the room.

The cook presently entered, and laying the bill at Mr. Grubb's elbow, took off the remnants of the 'game,' and left the sportsmen to discuss the little account.

"My eye! if this ain't a rum un!" exclaimed Grubb, casting his dilating oculars over the slip.

"Vy, vot's the damage?" enquired Spriggs.

"Ten and fourpence."

"Ten and fourpence! - never!" cried his incredulous companion. "Vot a himposition."

"Vell!" said Mr. Grubb, with a bitter emphasis, "if this is finding our own wittles, we'll dine at the hor'nary next time" -

"Let's have a squint at it," said Mr. Spriggs, reaching across the table; but all his squinting made the bill no less, and he laid it down with a sigh. "It is coming it rayther strong, to be sure," continued he; "but I dare say it's all our happearance has as done it. He takes us for people o' consequence, and" -

"Vot consequence is that to us?" said Grubbs, doggedly.

"Vell, never mind, Dick, it's on'y vonce a-year, as the grotto-boys says - "

"It need'nt to be; or I'll be shot if he mightn't vistle for the brads. Howsomever, there's a hole in another suv'rin."

"Ve shall get through it the sooner," replied the consoling Spriggs. "I see, Grubb, there aint a bit of the Frenchman about you" -

"Vy, pray?"

"Cos, you know, they're fond o' changing their suv'rins, and - you aint!"

The pleasant humour of Spriggs soon infected Grubb, and he resolved to be jolly, and keep up the fun, in spite of the exorbitant charge for the vegetable addenda to their supply of game.

"Come, don't look at the bill no more," advised Spriggs, "but treat it as old Villiams does his servants ven they displeases him."

"How's that?"

"Vy, discharge it, to be sure," replied he.

This sage advice being promptly followed, the sportsmen, shouldering their guns, departed in quest of amusement. They had not, however, proceeded far on their way, before a heavy shower compelled them to take shelter under a hedge.

"Werry pleasant!" remarked Spriggs.

"Keep your powder dry," said Grubb.

"Leave me alone," replied Spriggs; "and I think as we'd better pop our guns under our coat-tails too, for these ere cocks aint vater-cocks, you know! Vell, I never seed sich a rain. I'm bless'd if it vont drive all the dickey-birds to their nestes."

"I vish I'd brought a numberella," said Grubbs.

"Lank! vot a pretty fellow you are for a sportsman!" said Spriggs, "it don't damp my hardour in the least. All veathers comes alike to me, as the butcher said ven he vos a slaughtering the sheep!"

Mr. Richard Grubb, here joined in the laugh of his good-humoured friend, whose unwearied tongue kept him in spirits - rather mixed indeed than neat - for the rain now poured down in a perfect torrent.

"I say, Dick," said Spriggs, "vy are ve two like razors?"

"Cos ve're good-tempered?"

"Werry good; but that aint it exactly - cos ve're two bright blades, vot has got a beautiful edge!"

"A hexcellent conundrum," exclaimed Grubb. "Vere do you get 'em?'

"All made out of my own head, - as the boy said ven be showed the wooden top-spoon to his father!"


CHAPTER VII.

A sudden Explosion - a hit by one of the Sportsmen, which the other takes amiss.


A blustering wind arose, and like a burly coachman on mounting his box, took up the rain!

The two crouching friends taking advantage of the cessation in the storm, prepared to start. But in straightening the acute angles of their legs and arms, Mr. Sprigg's piece, by some entanglement in his protecting garb, went off, and the barrel striking Mr. Grubb upon the os nasi, stretched him bawling on the humid turf.

"O! Lord! I'm shot."

"O! my heye!" exclaimed the trembling Spriggs.

"O! my nose!" roared Grubb.

"Here's a go!"

"It's no go! - I'm a dead man!" blubbered Mr. Richard. Mr. Augustus Spriggs now raised his chum upon his legs, and was certainly rather alarmed at the sanguinary effusion.

"Vere's your hankercher? - here! - take mine, - that's it - there! - let's look at it."

"Can you see it?" said Grubb, mournfully twisting about his face most ludicrously, and trying at the same time to level his optics towards the damaged gnomon.

"Yes!"

"I can't feel it," said Grubb; "it's numbed like dead."

"My gun vent off quite by haccident, and if your nose is spoilt, can't you have a vax von? - Come, it ain't so bad!"

"A