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"Old Tug left no will," shrieked Jemmy; "he didn't die to leave his estates to blackamoors to negroes to base-born mulatto story-tellers; if he did may I be " "Oh, hush! dearest mamma," says Jemimarann. "Go it again, mother!" says Tug, who is always sniggering. "What is this business, Mr. "What is this will?" "Oh, it's merely a matter of form," said the lawyer, riding up.
I looked out for my pretty Jemimarann amongst the dancers, and saw her tearing round the room along with Baron Punter, in what they call a gallypard; then I peeped into the circle of the Duchesses, where, in course, I expected to find Mrs. C.; but she wasn't there!
The Baron was left alone with Jemimarann; and, whether it was the champagne, or that my dear girl looked more than commonly pretty, I don't know; but Madame Flicflac had not been gone a minute, when the Baron dropped on his knees, and made her a regular declaration.
Whilst they were walking, whom should they light upon but poor Orlando Crump, my successor in the perfumery and hair-cutting. "Orlando!" says Jemimarann, blushing as red as a label, and holding out her hand. "Jemimar!" says he, holding out his, and turning as white as pomatum. "SIR!" says Jemmy, as stately as a duchess. "What! madam," says poor Crump, "don't you remember your shopboy?"
Here, Tuesdays and Saturdays, we used regularly to take our places, Jemmy and Jemimarann sitting in front; me, behind: but as my dear wife used to wear a large fantail gauze hat with ostrich feathers, birds-of-paradise, artificial flowers, and tags of muslin or satin, scattered all over it, I'm blest if she didn't fill the whole of the front of the box; and it was only by jumping and dodging, three or four times in the course of the night, that I could manage to get a sight of the actors.
"Et toi, mon pauvre Chicot," says she, "est-ce qu'on t'a mis a la retraite? Il parait que tu n'es plus General chez Franco " "CHUT!" says the Baron, putting his finger to his lips. "What are they saying, my dear?" says my wife to Jemimarann, who had a pretty knowledge of the language by this time.
"Canal yourself, Mounseer," says Orlando, now grown quite furious: he broke away, quite indignant, and was soon lost in the crowd. Jemimarann, as soon as he was gone, began to look very pale and ill; and her mamma, therefore, took her to a tent, where she left her along with Madame Flicflac and the Baron; going off herself with the other gentlemen, in order to join us.
Is Jemimarann a trifle? if she would allow me to call her so. Oh, Jemimarann, your Pa found me in the workhouse, and made me what I am. Conduct me to my grave, and I never, never shall be different!" When he had said this, Orlando was so much affected, that he rushed suddenly on his hat and quitted the room. Then Jemimarann began to cry too.
Poor Orlando was carried off. "I've no patience with the little minx," says Jemmy, giving Jemimarann a pinch. "She might be a Baron's lady; and she screams out because his Excellency did but squeeze her hand." "Oh, mamma! mamma!" sobs poor Jemimarann, "but he was t-t-tipsy." "T-t-tipsy! and the more shame for you, you hussy, to be offended with a nobleman who does not know what he is doing."
"I say, Sam," says a professional to one of his friends, as, after their course, they came cantering up, and ranged under Jemmy's bower, as she called it: "I say, Sam, I'm blowed if that chap in harmer mustn't have been one of hus." And this only made Jemmy the more pleased; for the fact is, the Baron had chosen the best way of winning Jemimarann by courting her mother.
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