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Updated: May 14, 2025
Much nearer sixty years of age than fifty, with a flowing outline of stomach, and horizontal creases in his waistcoat; reputed to be rich; voting at elections in the strictly respectable interest; morally satisfied that nothing but he himself has grown since he was a baby; how can dunder-headed Mr. Sapsea be otherwise than a credit to Cloisterham, and society? Mr.
Sapsea, walking slowly this moist evening near the churchyard with his hands behind him, on the look-out for a blushing and retiring stranger, turns a corner, and comes instead into the goodly presence of the Dean, conversing with the Verger and Mr. Jasper. Mr. Sapsea makes his obeisance, and is instantly stricken far more ecclesiastical than any Archbishop of York or Canterbury.
'His Honour the Mayor does me too much credit, returned Mr. Datchery. 'Navy, sir? suggested Mr. Sapsea. 'Again, repeated Mr. Datchery, 'His Honour the Mayor does me too much credit. 'Diplomacy is a fine profession, said Mr. Sapsea, as a general remark. 'There, I confess, His Honour the Mayor is too many for me, said Mr.
'The Worshipful the Mayor, said Mr. Datchery, with a low bow, 'places me under an infinite obligation. 'Very good people, sir, Mr. and Mrs. Tope, said Mr. Sapsea, with condescension. 'Very good opinions. Very well behaved. Very respectful. 'The Worshipful the Mayor gives them a character, said Mr. Datchery, 'of which they may indeed be proud. 'We are, sir, returned Mr.
And yet, again, how true! murmured Mr. Datchery. 'And without betraying, what I call the secrets of the prison- house, said Mr. Sapsea; 'the secrets of the prison-house is the term I used on the bench. 'And what other term than His Honour's would express it? said Mr. Datchery. This is our Cathedral, sir.
Accepting the Jackass as the type of self-sufficient stupidity and conceit a custom, perhaps, like some few other customs, more conventional than fair then the purest jackass in Cloisterham is Mr. Thomas Sapsea, Auctioneer. Mr.
Sapsea then proposes a hit at backgammon, which, seasoned with his own improving conversation, and terminating in a supper of cold roast beef and salad, beguiles the golden evening until pretty late. Mr.
'O! cries Sapsea, picking up the ball thrown to him with ineffable complacency and pomposity; 'yes, yes. The Very Reverend the Dean refers to that? Yes. I happened to bring Durdles and Mr. Jasper together. I regard Durdles as a Character. 'A character, Mr. Sapsea, that with a few skilful touches you turn inside out, says Jasper. 'Nay, not quite that, returns the lumbering auctioneer.
Sapsea now touched it; and he clapped his hand up to his head as if with some vague expectation of finding another hat upon it. 'Pray be covered, sir, entreated Mr. Sapsea; magnificently plying: 'I shall not mind it, I assure you. 'His Honour is very good, but I do it for coolness, said Mr. Datchery. Then Mr. Datchery admired the Cathedral, and Mr.
'We can only suppose so, sir, Mr. Sapsea coincides. 'As I say, Man proposes, Heaven disposes. It may or may not be putting the same thought in another form; but that is the way I put it. Mr. Jasper murmurs assent. 'And now, Mr. Jasper, resumes the auctioneer, producing his scrap of manuscript, 'Mrs. Take it in your own hand.
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