John Leech, His Life and Work Volume I Part 8

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MAMMA AND THE GIRLS."]

The discussion respecting the guests goes on, opinion as to eligibility widely differing. Mamma proposes Mr. and Mrs. Howard and the four girls, to which Miss Ellen says:

"All dressed alike, and standing up in every quadrille. I declare I will get George Conway to put an ice in Harriet's chair for her to sit down upon, in revenge for her waltzing last year, when she brushed down the Joan of Arc, and knocked its head off."

This refined conversation continues till Miss Ellen speaks of her brother's disposition to interfere with the invitation-list; she says:

"'We must tell Tom not to overdo us so much with his own friends. I declare last year I did not know half the young men in the room; and it was so very awkward when you had to introduce them.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: "TWO RUDE YOUNG MEN."]

"f.a.n.n.y: 'And they were not nice persons. Two of them were in the pit of the Lyceum the next night, and, seeing us in Mr. Arnold's box, would stare us out of countenance. With a single gla.s.s, too!'"

"And in this style," says our author, "the list is arranged, the hostess gradually becoming a prey to isingla.s.s and acute mental inquietude, which gradually increases as the day draws nearer, until upon the morning of its arrival her very brain is almost turned to blancmange from the intensity of her anxiety!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE."]

The whole house is, of course, turned topsy-turvy; and Leech gives us a picture of the master of the mansion surrounded by some of the consequences of giving an evening party.

"This state of things," says the chronicler, "much delights the olive-branches of the family, who, left entirely alone, and quite overlooked in the general _melee_, divert themselves by poking their little puddy fingers into the creams, and scooping out the insides of divers patties with a doll's leg," etc., etc.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "AN OLIVE-BRANCH."]

The ball begins under sundry difficulties. A most desirable person, "_one_ for whom the party was almost given, sends a melancholy statement of the very acute attack of influenza under which _they_ are labouring,"

which they extremely regret will prevent their accepting, etc. Then one of the intended _belles_ of the evening is obliged to go suddenly into the country, to see a sick aunt, but "she sends her two brothers--tall, _gangling_, awkward young men who wear pumps and long black stocks, and throw their legs about when they are dancing everywhere but over their shoulders," etc., etc., says the author. Here is what Leech thinks of the two brothers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "TWO 'GANGLING' YOUNG MEN."]

I have never met with the word "gangling" before; is it an invention of Mr. Albert Smith's? I can speak to the truth of the dress of these long brothers, for I who write have worn the long black stock and the peculiarly cut coat and waistcoats at many an evening party.

The numerous ill.u.s.trations of "The Physiology" are such perfect examples of Leech's earlier work, and in themselves so good, that I am induced to produce several more of them. I don't know whether the fascinating person under the hands of the hair-dresser is Miss Ellen or Miss f.a.n.n.y.

I confess I can scarcely believe she would talk like either of them; happy barber! perfect you are as you ply your vocation; and in that vocation--insomuch as you have that sweet creature to contemplate--to be envied indeed!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "PREPARING FOR THE BALL."]

Then we have the greengrocer, "who is to a.s.sist in waiting.... He wears white cotton gloves with very long fingers, and was never known to announce a name correctly, so the astonished visitor is ushered into the room under any other appellation than his own."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE a.s.sISTANT-WAITER."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE BAND."]

The band must not be forgotten. "The music arrives," says the writer, "sometimes in the shape of a single pianist of untiring fingers and unclosing eyes; sometimes as a harp, piano, and cornopean, who are immediately installed in a corner of the room with two chairs, a music-stool, and a bottle of marsala."

I ask my reader to note the individuality in the four faces in this drawing--and in the figures no less than in the heads--each a strongly-marked personality precisely appropriate to the instrument upon which he performs. How admirable is the cornet-a-piston gentleman contrasted with the pianoforte player!

The mistress of the house is described as making "uphill attempts at conversation" pending the arrival of a sufficient number of guests to make up a quadrille. Two old ladies, however, have already put in an appearance, and have taken possession of the best seats to "see the dancing," from which all attempts to move them to the card-room are successfully resisted. There they sit, poor old wallflowers! with all the advantage that "false hair and turbans" can give them. Though the execution of this drawing lacks the perfection of workmans.h.i.+p of Leech's later manner, he never surpa.s.sed it in expression and character.

The music "strikes up," the lady of the house throws a comprehensive _coup d'oeil_ over her a.s.sembled visitors, and at last pitches upon a tall young man--_whom some of you may have met before_--with short hair, spectacles, and turned-up wristbands, as if he was about to wash his hands with his coat on. His fate is sealed, and she advances towards him, blandly exclaiming:

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WALLFLOWERS."]

"_Mr. Ledbury_, allow me to introduce you to a partner."

My own readers have heard of Mr. Ledbury; but as I think they are unacquainted with his personal appearance, I propose to introduce him to them, and here he is--

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MR. LEDBURY."]

Mr. Ledbury is "presented to a bouquet with a young lady attached to it"--a Miss Hamilton--who freezes him completely. A quadrille is formed.

Mr. Ledbury cudgels his brains for five minutes. The young partner seems to be "searching after some imaginary object amongst the petals of her bouquet." The mountainous Ledbury brain is in labour. Behold the production!

"MR. L. 'Have you been to many parties this season?'

"MISS H. 'Not a great many.'

Miss Hamilton continues the bouquet investigation. The gentleman invents another sentence.

"MR. L. 'What do you think of Alfred Tennyson?'

"MISS H. 'I am sorry to say I have not heard his poetry. Have you?'

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MR. LEDBURY AND MISS HAMILTON."]

"MR. L. 'Oh yes! several times."

Mr. Ledbury waits to be asked about "Mariana" and "Locksley Hall." No inquiry, so he "rubs up an idea upon another tack":

"MR. L. 'What do you think of our _vis-a-vis_?'

"MISS H. 'Which one?'

"MR. L. 'The lady with that strange head-dress. Do you know her?'

"MISS H. 'It is Miss Brown--my cousin.'"

Mr. Ledbury wishes he could fall through a trap in the floor.

The quadrille continues, with occasional attempts on the part of the brilliant couple to make conversation. The acme of imbecility seems to be reached when the lady asks if Mr. L. plays any instrument? He replies that he plays the flute a little. Does she admire it?

"Oh, so very much!" she says.

A waltz is proposed, but that form of dancing is, says our author, "never established without a prolonged desire on the part of everybody to relinquish the honour of commencing it. At last the example is set by one daring pair, timidly followed by another couple, and then by another, who get out of step at the end of the first round, and after treading severely upon the advanced toes of the old lady in a very flowery cap and plum-coloured satin (one of our faded wallflowers), who is sitting out at the top of the room, and who from that instant deprecates waltzing as an amus.e.m.e.nt not at all consistent with her ideas of feminine decorum."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE WALTZ."]

The young lady in this drawing has much of Leech's charm; but I should scarcely have selected it were it not for the figure of the gentleman, which exactly resembles that of Leech himself as I first knew him. If conservatories, or even staircases, could speak, what flirtations they could chronicle, what love-tales they could tell! Mr. Smith says "you will have to confess your inability to imagine what on earth the gentleman with the long hair, who is carefully balancing himself on one leg against the flowerpot-stand, and the pretty girl with the bouquet, can find to talk about so long, so earnestly."

I for one beg Mr. Albert Smith's pardon. I can easily imagine what they are talking about.