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Updated: June 16, 2025
His fine bushy beard seems to match the fur with which his high four-cornered cap is trimmed." "That is the Tartar coachman," replied Wisky; "a dashing fellow is he, and a bold driver through the crowded streets of the city. The pretty youths yonder are the postilions. Young and small they must be, to suit the taste of a Russian noble.
"It seems to me, Wisky," said I, on the night following that of our arrival, "that there is no end to the number of servants that pass in and out of this dwelling! Who is that fellow in the blue cloth caftan, fastened under his left arm with three silver buttons, and girded round the waist with a coloured silk scarf?
Billy Breen shuffled out to the front, and, in a voice shaking with nervousness and emotion, began to speak, his large, coarse hands wandering tremulously about. 'Parson, 'ee says is it wisky or no wisky in this 'ere club? Once oi could mine more coal than hany man in the camp; now oi hain't fit to be a sorter.
But, marster, maybe in de jedgmun' day, wen Ole Bob is er stan'in' fo' de Lord wid his knees er trim'lin', an' de angel fotches out dat book er hisn, and' de Lord tell 'im fur ter read wat he writ gins 'im, an' de angel he 'gin ter read how de ole nigger drunk too much wisky, how he stoled watermillions in de night, how he cussed, how he axed too much fur doct'in' uv hosses, an' wen he wuz men'in' cheers, how he wouldn't men' 'em strong, so's he'd git ter men' 'em ergin some time; an' den' wen he read all dat an' shet de book, maybe de Lord he'll say, 'Well, he's er pow'ful sinful nigger, but den he tuck his money, he did, an' buy'd de little baby fur ter give 'im ter his mammy, an' I sha'n't be too hard on' im.
"Why," I added, as I tasted the liquid, "this seems to me simply cabbage soup!" "Whatever my brother may think of it," observed Wisky, dipping his whiskers into the nearly empty plate, "he is now tasting that which forms the principal article of food of forty millions of human beings! Better live without bread than without shtshee."
"What!" cried Whiskerandos, "are their carriages so small that they will not hold two, or are the grandees afraid of quarrelling, that husband and wife cannot travel together!" "Surely, Sir Wisky," exclaimed I, "you must have come to the end of your list!" "Pardon me, little brother, not yet.
"Is Russia a child, that she should amuse herself with a toy, and keep a big boat under a roof where there is no water to float it, as if it were some delicate jewel!" "On no jewel in the Emperor's crown," replied Wisky, "would a Russian look with the same interest as on that poor boat. Peter the Great helped to fashion it himself!
And in the Gazetteer of 18th April, 1769, appeared a very extraordinary advertisement with the following title; "Horses, Tim Wisky, and black Boy, To be sold at the Bull and Gate Inn. Holborn, A very good Tim Wisky, little the worse for wear, &c." Enquire as above."
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