Stories of Comedy Part 25

says he, 'that you spake Frinch?'

"'_Parly voo frongsay_,' says I.

"'By gor, that bangs Banagher, and all the world knows Banagher bangs the divil,--I never met the likes o' you, Paddy,' says he,--'pull away, boys, and put Paddy ash.o.r.e, and maybe we won't get a good bellyful before long.'

"So, with that, it wos no sooner said nor done,--they pulled away, and got close into sh.o.r.e in less than no time, and run the boat up in a little creek, and a beautiful creek it was, with a lovely white sthrand,--an illegant place for ladies to bathe in the summer; and out I got,--and it's stiff enough in the limbs I was, afther bein' cramped up in the boat, and perished with the cowld and hunger, but I conthrived to scramble on, one way or t' other, tow'rds a little bit iv a wood that was close to the sh.o.r.e, and the smoke curlin' out iv it, quite timptin'

like.

"'By the powdhers o' war, I'm all right,' says I, 'there's a house there,'--and sure enough there was, and a parcel of men, women, and childher, ating their dinner round a table, quite convanient. And so I wint up to the door, and I thought I'd be very civil to them, as I heerd the French was always mighty p'lite intirely,--and I thought I'd show them I knew what good manners was.

"So I took aff my hat, and, making a low bow, says I, 'G.o.d save all here,' says I.

"Well, to be sure, they all stapt eating at wanst, and began to stare at me, and faith they almost looked me out of countenance,--and I thought to myself, it was not good manners at all, more betoken from furriners which they call so mighty p'lite; but I never minded that, in regard o'

wantin' the gridiron; and so says I, 'I beg your pardon,' says I, 'for the liberty I take, but it's only bein' in disthress in regard of eating,' says I, 'that I made bowld to throuble yez, and if you could lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'I'd be entirely obleeged to ye.'

"By gor, they all stared at me twice worse nor before,--and with that, says I (knowing what was in their minds), 'Indeed it's thrue for you,'

says I, 'I'm tatthered to pieces, and G.o.d knows I look quare enough,--but it's by raison of the storm,' says I, 'which dhruv us ash.o.r.e here below, and we're all starvin',' says I.

"So then they began to look at each other again; and myself, seeing at once dirty thoughts was in their heads, and that they tuk me for a poor beggar coming to crave charity,--with that, says I, 'O, not at all,'

says I, 'by no manes,--we have plenty of mate ourselves there below, and we'll dhress it,' says I, 'if you would be plased to lind us the loan of a gridiron,' says I, makin' a low bow.

"Well, sir, with that, throth, they stared at me twice worse nor ever, and faith I began to think that maybe the captain was wrong, and that it was not France at all at all; and so says I, 'I beg pardon, sir,' says I, to a fine ould man, with a head of hair as white as silver,--'maybe I'm under a mistake,' says I, 'but I thought I was in France, sir: aren't you furriners?' says I,--'_Parly voo frongsay_?"

"'We, munseer,' says he.

"'Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'if you plase?'

"O, it was thin that they stared at me as if I had seven heads; and, faith, myself began to feel flushed like and onaisy,--and so, says I, makin' a bow and sc.r.a.pe agin, 'I know it's a liberty I take, sir,' says I, 'but it's only in the regard of bein' cast away; and if you plase, sir,' says I, '_parly voo frongsay_?'

"'We, munseer,' says he, mighty sharp.

"'Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron!' says I, 'and you'll obleege me.'

"Well, sir, the ould chap began to munseer me; but the devil a bit of a gridiron he'd gi' me; and so I began to think they wor all neygars, for all their fine manners; and throth my blood begun to rise, and says I, 'By my sowl, if it was you was in distriss,' says I, 'and if it was to ould Ireland you kem, it's not only the gridiron they'd give you, if you axed it, but something to put an it, too, and the drop o' dhrink into the bargain, and _cead mile failte_.'

"Well, the word _cead mile failte_ seemed to sthreck his heart, and the ould chap c.o.c.ked his ear, and so I thought I'd give him another offer, and make him sensible at last: and so says I, wanst more, quite slow, that he might understand,--'_Parly--voo--frongsay_, munseer.'

"'We, munseer,' says he.

"'Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'and bad scram to you.'

"Well, bad win to the bit of it he'd gi' me, and the ould chap begins bowin' and sc.r.a.pin', and said something or other about a long tongs.[D]

[D] Some mystification of Paddy's touching the French _n'entends_.

"'Phoo!--the divil swape yourself and your tongs,' says I, 'I don't want a tongs at all at all; but can't you listen to raison,' says I,--'_Parly voo frongsay_?'

"'We, munseer.'

"'Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'and howld your prate.'

"Well, what would you think, but he shook his old noddle as much as to say he wouldn't; and so, says I, 'Bad cess to the likes o' that I ever seen,--throth if you wor in my counthry it's not that away they'd use you. The curse o' the crows an you, you owld sinner,' says I, 'the divil a longer I'll darken your door.'

"So he seen I was vexed, and I thought, as I was turnin' away, I seen him begin to relint, and that his conscience throubled him; and says I, turnin' back, 'Well, I'll give one chance more,--you ould thief,--are you a Chrishthan at all? are you a furriner!' says I, 'that all the world calls so p'lite? Bad luck to you, do you understand your own language?--_Parly voo frongsay_?' says I.

"'We, munseer,' says he.

"'Then, thunder an' turf,' says I, 'will you lind me the loan of a gridiron?'

"Well, sir, the devil resave the bit of it he'd gi' me,--and so, with that, the 'curse o' the hungry an you, you ould negarly villain,' says I; 'the back o' my hand and the sowl o' my foot to you, that you may want a gridiron yourself yit,' says I; and with that I left them there, sir, and kem away,--and, in throth, it's often sense that I thought that it was remarkable."

THE BOX TUNNEL.

BY CHARLES READE.

The 10.15 train glided from Paddington, May 7, 1847. In the left compartment of a certain first-cla.s.s carriage were four pa.s.sengers; of these, two were worth description. The lady had a smooth, white, delicate brow, strongly marked eyebrows, long lashes, eyes that seemed to change color, and a good-sized delicious mouth, with teeth as white as milk. A man could not see her nose for her eyes and mouth; her own s.e.x could and would have told us some nonsense about it. She wore an unpretending grayish dress b.u.t.toned to the throat with lozenge-shaped b.u.t.tons, and a Scottish shawl that agreeably evaded color. She was like a duck, so tight her plain feathers fitted her, and there she sat, smooth, snug, and delicious, with a book in her hand, and a _soupcon_ of her wrist just visible as she held it. Her opposite neighbor was what I call a good style of man,--the more to his credit, since he belonged to a corporation that frequently turns out the worst imaginable style of young men. He was a cavalry officer, aged twenty-five. He had a mustache, but not a very repulsive one; not one of those subnasal pigtails on which soup is suspended like dew on a shrub; it was short, thick, and black as a coal. His teeth had not yet been turned by tobacco smoke to the color of juice, his clothes did not stick to nor hang to him; he had an engaging smile, and, what I liked the dog for, his vanity, which was inordinate, was in its proper place, his heart, not in his face, jostling mine and other people's who have none,--in a word, he was what one oftener hears of than meets,--a young gentleman. He was conversing in an animated whisper with a companion, a fellow-officer; they were talking about what it is far better not to--women. Our friend clearly did not wish to be overheard; for he cast ever and anon a furtive glance at his fair _vis-a-vis_ and lowered his voice. She seemed completely absorbed in her book, and that rea.s.sured him. At last the two soldiers came down to a whisper (the truth must be told), the one who got down at Slough, and was lost to posterity, bet ten pounds to three, that he who was going down with us to Bath and immortality would not kiss either of the ladies opposite upon the road. "Done, done!" Now I am sorry a man I have hitherto praised should have lent himself, even in a whisper, to such a speculation; "but n.o.body is wise at all hours," not even when the clock is striking five and twenty; and you are to consider his profession, his good looks, and the temptation--ten to three.

After Slough the party was reduced to three; at Twylford one lady dropped her handkerchief; Captain Dolignan fell on it like a lamb; two or three words were interchanged on this occasion. At Reading the Marlborough of our tale made one of the safe investments of that day, he bought a Times and Punch; the latter full of steel-pen thrusts and woodcuts. Valor and beauty deigned to laugh at some inflamed humbug or other punctured by Punch. Now laughing together thaws our human ice; long before Swindon it was a talking match--at Swindon who so devoted as Captain Dolignan?--he handed them out--he souped them--he tough-chickened them--he brandied and cochinealed one, and he brandied and burnt-sugared the other; on their return to the carriage, one lady pa.s.sed into the inner compartment to inspect a certain gentleman's seat on that side of the line.

Reader, had it been you or I, the beauty would have been the deserter, the average one would have stayed with us till all was blue, ourselves included; not more surely does our slice of bread and b.u.t.ter, when it escapes from our hand, revolve it ever so often, alight face downward on the carpet. But this was a bit of a fop, Adonis, dragoon,--so Venus remained in _tete-a-tete_ with him. You have seen a dog meet an unknown female of his species; how handsome, how _empresse_, how expressive he becomes; such was Dolignan after Swindon, and to do the dog justice, he got handsome and handsomer; and you have seen a cat conscious of approaching cream,--such was Miss Haythorn; she became demurer and demurer; presently our captain looked out of the window and laughed; this elicited an inquiring look from Miss Haythorn.

"We are only a mile from the Box Tunnel."

"Do you always laugh a mile from the Box Tunnel?" said the lady.

"Invariably."

"What for?"

"Why, hem! it is a gentleman's joke."

Captain Dolignan then recounted to Miss Haythorn the following:--

"A lady and her husband sat together going through the Box Tunnel,--there was one gentleman opposite; it was pitch dark: after the tunnel the lady said, 'George, how absurd of you to salute me going through the tunnel.' 'I did no such thing.' 'You didn't?' 'No! why?'

'Because somehow I thought you did!'"

Here Captain Dolignan laughed and endeavored to lead his companion to laugh, but it was not to be done. The train entered the tunnel.

_Miss Haythorn._ Ah!

_Dolignan._ What is the matter?

_Miss Haythorn._ I am frightened.

_Dolignan_ (moving to her side). Pray do not be alarmed; I am near you.