Sketches by Seymour Part 7

CHAPTER VII.

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

A bl.u.s.tering 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 vax von, indeed!--who vouldn't rather have his own nose than all the vax vons in the vorld?" replied poor Richard. "I shall never be able to show my face."

"Vy not?--your face ain't touched, it's on'y your nose!"

"See, if I come out agin in an hurry," continued the wounded sportsman.

"I've paid precious dear for a day's fun. The birds vill die a nat'ral death for me, I can tell you."

"It vos a terrible blow--certainly," said Spriggs; "but these things vill happen in the best riggle'ated families!"

"How can that be? there's no piece, in no quiet and respectable families as I ever seed!"

And with this very paradoxical dictum, Mr. Grubb trudged on, leading himself by the nose; Spriggs exerting all his eloquence to make him think lightly of what Grubb considered such a heavy affliction; for after all, although he had received a terrible contusion, there were no bones broken: of which Spriggs a.s.sured his friend and himself with a great deal of feeling!

Luckily the shades of evening concealed them from the too scrutinizing observation of the pa.s.sengers they encountered on their return, for such accidents generally excite more ridicule than commiseration.

Spriggs having volunteered his services, saw Grubb safe home to his door in Tower Street, and placing the two guns in his hands, bade him a cordial farewell, promising to call and see after his nose on the morrow.

The following parody of a customary paragraph in the papers will be considered, we think, a most fitting conclusion to their day's sport.

"In consequence of a letter addressed to Mr. Augustus Spriggs, by Mr.

Richard Grubb, the parties met early yesterday morning, but after firing several shots, we are sorry to state that they parted without coming to any satisfactory conclusion."

SCENE IX.

"Shoot away, Bill! never mind the old woman--she can't get over the wall to us."

One day two urchins got A pistol, powder, horn, and shot, And proudly forth they went On sport intent.

"Oh, Tom! if we should shoot a hare,"

Cried one, The elder son, "How father, sure, would stare!"

Look there! what's that?"

"Why, as I live, a cat,"

Cried Bill, "'tis mother Tibbs' tabby; Oh! what a lark She loves it like a babby!

And ain't a cat's eye, Tom, as good a mark As any bull's eyes?"

And straight "Puss! puss!" he cries, When, lo! as Puss approaches, They hear a squall, And see a head and fist above the wall.

'Tis tabby's mistress Who in great distress Loads both the urchins with her loud reproaches, "You little villains! will ye shoot my cat?

Here, Tink! Tink! Tink!

O! lor' a' mercy! I shall surely sink, Tink! Tink!"

Tink hears her voice--and hearing that, Trots nearer with a pit-a-pat!

"Now, Bill, present and fire, There's a bold 'un, And send the tabby to the old 'un."

Bang! went the pistol, and in the mire Rolled Tink without a mew-- Flop! fell his mistress in a stew!

While Bill and Tom both fled, Leaving the accomplish'd Tink quite finish'd, For Bill had actually diminish'd The feline favorite by a head!

Leaving his undone mistress to bewail, In deepest woe, And to her gossips to relate Her tabby's fate.

This was her only consolation--for altho'

She could not tell the head--she could the tail!

SCENE X.

SEPTEMBER 1ST,--AN ONLY OPPORTUNITY.

"I begin to think I may as well go back."

MY vig! vat a pelter this is-- Enough all my hardour to tame; In veather like this there's no sport, It's too much in earnest for game!

A ladle, I might as well be, Chain'd fast to a hold parish pump, For, by goles! it comes tumbling down, Like vinking,--and all of a lump.

The birds to their nestes is gone, I can't see no woodc.o.c.k, nor snipe; My dog he looks dogged and dull, My leggins is flabby as tripe!

The moors is all slipp'ry slush, I'm up to the neck in the mire; I don't see no chance of a shot, And I long-how I long for a fire!