Handy Andy Volume Ii Part 15

"Something very naughty, I dare say, the doctor is doing," said f.a.n.n.y Dawson.

"Judge for yourself, lady fair," said the doctor, handing f.a.n.n.y the slip of paper.

f.a.n.n.y looked at it for a moment and smiled, but declared it was very wicked indeed.

"Then read it for the company, and condemn me out of your own pretty mouth, Miss Dawson," said the doctor.

"It is too wicked."

"If it is ever so wicked," said Father Phil, "the wickedness will be neutralised by being read by an angel."

"Well done, St. Omer's," cried Murphy.

"Really, Father," said f.a.n.n.y, blushing, "you are desperately gallant to-day, and just to shame you, and show how little of an angel I am, I _will_ read the doctor's epigram:--

'Though matches are all made in heaven, they say, Yet Hymen, who mischief oft hatches, Sometimes deals with the house _t'other side of the way_, And _there_ they make _Lucifer_ matches.'"

"Oh, doctor! I'm afraid you are a woman-hater," said Mrs. Egan. "Come away, f.a.n.n.y, I am sure they want to get rid of us."

"Yes," said f.a.n.n.y, rising and joining her sister, who was leaving the room, "and now, after abusing poor Hymen, gentlemen, we leave you to your favourite worship of Bacchus."

The departure of the ladies changed the conversation, and after the gentlemen had resumed their seats, the doctor asked d.i.c.k Dawson how soon he intended going to London.

"I start immediately," said d.i.c.k. "Don't forget to give me that letter of introduction to your friend in Dublin, whom I long to know."

"Who is he?" asked the Squire.

"One Tom Loftus--or, as his friends call him, 'Piping Tom,' from his vocal powers; or, as some nickname him, '_Organ_ Loftus,' from his imitation of that instrument, which is an excessively comical piece of caricature."

"Oh! I know him well," said Father Phil.

"How did you manage to become acquainted with him?" inquired the doctor, "for I did not think he lay much in your way."

"It was _he_ became acquainted with me," said Father Phil, "and this was the way of it--he was down on a visit betimes in the parish I was in before this, and his behaviour was so wild that I was obliged to make an allusion in the chapel to his indiscretions, and threaten to make his conduct a subject of severe public censure if he did not mind his manners a little better. Well, my dear, who should call on me on the Monday morning after but Misther Tom, all smiles and graces, and protesting he was sorry he fell under my displeasure, and hoping I would never have cause to find fault with him again. Sure, I thought he was repenting of his misdeeds, and I said I was glad to hear such good words from him. 'A'

then, Father,' says he, 'I hear you have got a great curiosity from Dublin--a shower-bath, I hear?' So I said I had: and indeed, to be candid, I was as proud as a peac.o.c.k of the same bath, which tickled my fancy when I was once in town, and so I bought it. 'Would you show it to me?' says he. 'To be sure,' says I, and off I went, like a fool, and put the wather on the top, and showed him how, when a string was pulled, down it came --and he pretended not clearly to understand the thing, and at last he said, 'Sure it's not into that sentry-box you get?' says he. 'Oh yes,' said I, getting into it quite innocent; when, my dear, he slaps the door and fastens it on me, and pulls the string and souses me with the water, and I with my best suit of black on me. I roared and shouted inside while Misther Tom Loftus was screechin' laughing outside, and dancing round the room with delight. At last, when he could speak, he said, 'Now, Father, we're even,' says he, 'for the abuse you gave me yesterday,' and off he ran."

"That's just like him," said old Growling, chuckling; "he's a queer devil.

I remember on one occasion a poor dandy puppy, who was in the same office with him--for Tom is in the Ordnance department, you must know--this puppy, sir, wanted to go to the Ashbourne races and cut a figure in the eyes of a rich grocer's daughter he was sweet upon."

"Being sweet upon a grocer's daughter," said Murphy, "is like bringing coals to Newcastle."

"'Faith! it was coals to Newcastle with a vengeance, in the present case, for the girl would have nothing to say to him, and Tom had great delight whenever he could annoy this poor fool in his love-making plots. So, when he came to Tom to ask for the loan of his horse, Tom said he should have him _if he could make the smallest use of him_--'but I don't think you can,' said Tom. 'Leave that to me,' said the youth. 'I don't think you could make him go,' said Tom. 'I'll buy a new pair of spurs,' said the puppy. 'Let them be handsome ones,' said Tom. 'I was looking at a very handsome pair at Lamprey's, yesterday,' said the young gentleman. 'Then you can buy them on your way to my stables,' said Tom; and sure enough, sir, the youth laid out his money on a very costly pair of persuaders, and then proceeded homewards with Tom. 'Now, with all your spurs,' said Tom, 'I don't think you'll be able to make him go.' 'Is he so very vicious, then?' inquired the youth, who began to think of his neck. 'On the contrary,' said Tom, 'he's perfectly quiet, but won't go for _you_, I'll bet a pound.' 'Done!' said the youth. 'Well, try him,'

said Tom, as he threw open the stable door. 'He's lazy, I see,' said the youth; 'for he's lying down.' 'Faith, he is,' said Tom, 'and hasn't got up these two days!' 'Get up, you brute!' said the innocent youth, giving a smart cut of his whip on the horse's flank; but the horse did not budge.

'_Why, he's dead!_' says he. 'Yes,' says Tom, 'since Monday last. So I don't think you can make him go, and you've lost your bet!'"

"That was hardly a fair joke," said the Squire.

"Tom never stops to think of that," returned the doctor; "he's the oddest fellow I ever knew. The last time I was in Dublin, I called on Tom and found him one bitter cold and stormy morning standing at an open window, nearly quite undressed. On asking him what he was about, he said he was _getting up a ba.s.s voice_; that Mrs. Somebody, who gave good dinners and bad concerts, was disappointed of her ba.s.s singer, 'and I think,' said Tom, 'I'll be hoa.r.s.e enough in the evening to take double B flat. Systems are the fashion now,' said he; 'there is the Logierian system and other systems, and mine is the Cold-air-ian system, and the best in the world for getting up a ba.s.s voice.'"

"That was very original certainly," said the Squire.

"But did you ever hear of his adventure with the Duke of Wellington?" said the doctor.

"The Duke!" they all exclaimed.

"Yes--that is, when he was only Sir Arthur Wellesley. Well, I'll tell you."

"Stop," said the Squire, "a fresh story requires a fresh bottle. Let me ring for some claret."

CHAPTER x.x.xII

The servant who brought in the claret announced at the same time the arrival of a fresh guest in the person of "Captain Moriarty," who was welcomed by most of the party by the name of Randal. The Squire regretted he was too late for dinner, inquiring at the same time if he would like to have something to eat at the side-table; but Randal declined the offer, a.s.suring the Squire he had got some refreshment during the day while he had been out shooting; but as the sport led, him near Merryvale, and "he had a great thirst upon him," he did not know a better house in the country wherein to have "that same" satisfied.

"Then you're just in time for some cool claret," said the Squire; "so sit down beside the doctor, for he must have the first gla.s.s and broach the bottle, before he broaches the story he's going to tell us--that's only fair."

The doctor filled his gla.s.s, and tasted. "What a nice _'chateau,'

'Margaux'_ must be," said he, as he laid down his gla.s.s. "I should like to be a tenant-at-will there, at a small rent."

"And no taxes," said d.i.c.k.

"Except my duty to the claret," replied the doctor.

'My favourite chateau, Is that of Margaux.'

"By-the-bye, talking of _chateau_, there's the big brewer over at the town, who is anxious to affect gentility, and he heard some one use the word _chapeau_, and having found out it was the French for _hat_, he determined to show off on the earliest possible occasion, and selected a public meeting of some sort to display his accomplishment. Taking some cause of objection to the proceedings, as an excuse for leaving the meeting, he said, 'Gentlemen, the fact is I can't agree with you, so I may as well take my _chateau_ under my arm at once, and walk.'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Tom Organ Loftus and the Duke]

"Is not that an invention of your own, doctor?" said the Squire.

"I heard it for fact," said Growling.

"And 't is true," added Murphy, "for I was present when he said it. And at an earlier part of the proceedings he suggested that the parish clerk should read the resolutions, because he had a good '_laudable_ voice.'"

"A parish clerk ought to have," said the doctor--"eh, Father Phil?-- '_Laudamus!_'"

"Leave your Latin," said d.i.c.k, "and tell us that story you promised about the Duke and Tom Loftus."

"Right, Misther d.i.c.k," said Father Phil.

"The story, doctor," said the Squire.

"Oh, don't make such bones about it," said Growling; "'tis but a trifle after all; only it shows you what a queer and reckless rascal Tom is. I told you he was called '_Organ_' Loftus by his friends, in consequence of the imitation he makes of that instrument; and it certainly is worth hearing and seeing, for your eyes have as much to do with the affair as your ears. Tom plants himself on a high office-stool, before one of those lofty desks with long rows of drawers down each side and a hole between to put your legs under. Well, sir, Tom pulls out the top drawers, like the stops of an organ, and the lower ones by way of pedals: and then he begins thrashing the desk like the finger-board of an organ with his hands, while his feet kick away at the lower drawers as if he were the greatest pedal performer out of Germany, and he emits a rapid succession of grunts and squeaks, producing a ludicrous reminiscence of the instrument, which I defy any one to hear without laughing. Several sows and an indefinite number of sucking pigs could not make a greater noise, and Tom himself declares he studied the instrument in a pigsty, which he maintains gave the first notion of an organ. Well, sir, the youths in the office a.s.sist in 'doing the service,' as they call it, that is, making an imitation of the chanting and so forth in St. Patrick's Cathedral."

"Oh, the haythens!" said Father Phil.