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  COX'S DIARY

  William Makepeace Thackeray

  COX'S DIARY.

  THE ANNOUNCEMENT.

  FIRST ROUT.

  A DAY WITH THE SURREY HOUNDS.

  THE FINISHING TOUCH.

  A NEW DROP-SCENE AT THE OPERA.

  STRIKING A BALANCE.

  DOWN AT BEULAH.

  A TOURNAMENT.

  OVER-BOARDED AND UNDER-LODGED.

  NOTICE TO QUIT.

  LAW LIFE ASSURANCE.

  FAMILY BUSTLE.

  This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, [email protected].

  COX'S DIARY.

  THE ANNOUNCEMENT.

  On the 1st of January, 1838, I was the master of a lovely shop in the

  neighborhood of Oxford Market; of a wife, Mrs. Cox; of a business, both in the

  shaving and cutting line, established three- and-thirty years; of a girl and boy

  respectively of the ages of eighteen and thirteen; of a three-windowed front,

  both to my first and second pair; of a young foreman, my present partner, Mr.

  Orlando Crump; and of that celebrated mixture for the human hair, invented by my

  late uncle, and called Cox's Bohemian Balsam of Tokay, sold in pots at

  two-and-three and three-and-nine. The balsam, the lodgings, and the

  old-established cutting and shaving business brought me in a pretty genteel

  income. I had my girl, Jemimarann, at Hackney, to school; my dear boy,

  Tuggeridge, plaited her hair beautifully; my wife at the counter (behind the

  tray of patent soaps, cut as handsome a figure as possible; and it was my hope

  that Orlando and my girl, who were mighty soft upon one another, would one day

  be joined together in Hyming, and, conjointly with my son Tug, carry on the

  business of hairdressers when their father was either dead or a gentleman: for a

  gentleman me and Mrs. C. determined I should be.

  Jemima was, you see, a lady herself, and of very high connections: though her

  own family had met with crosses, and was rather low. Mr. Tuggeridge, her father,

  kept the famous tripe-shop near the "Pigtail and Sparrow," in the Whitechapel

  Road; from which place I married her; being myself very fond of the article, and

  especially when she served it to me�the dear thing!

  Jemima's father was not successful in business: and I married her, I am proud to

  confess it, without a shilling. I had my hands, my house, and my Bohemian balsam

  to support her!�and we had hopes from her uncle, a mighty rich East India

  merchant, who, having left this country sixty years ago as a cabin-boy, had

  arrived to be the head of a great house in India, and was worth millions, we

  were told.

  Three years after Jemimarann's birth (and two after the death of my lamented

  father-in-law), Tuggeridge (head of the great house of Budgurow and Co.) retired

  from the management of it; handed over his shares to his son, Mr. John

  Tuggeridge, and came to live in England, at Portland Place, and Tuggeridgeville,

  Surrey, and enjoy himself. Soon after, my wife took her daughter in her hand and

  went, as in duty bound, to visit her uncle: but whether it was that he was proud

  and surly, or she somewhat sharp in her way, (the dear girl fears nobody, let me

  have you to know,) a desperate quarrel took place between them; and from that

  day to the day of his death, he never set eyes on her. All that he would

  condescend to do, was to take a few dozen of lavender-water from us in the

  course of the year, and to send his servants to be cut and shaved by us. All the

  neighbors laughed at this poor ending of our expectations, for Jemmy had bragged

  not a little; however, we did not care, for the connection was always a good

  one, and we served Mr. Hock, the valet; Mr. Bar, the coachman; and Mrs.

  Breadbasket, the housekeeper, willingly enough. I used to powder the footman,

  too, on great days, but never in my life saw old Tuggeridge, except once: when

  he said "Oh, the barber!" tossed up his nose, and passed on.

  One day�one famous day last January�all our Market was thrown into a high state

  of excitement by the appearance of no less than three vehicles at our

  establishment. As me, Jemmy, my daughter, Tug, and Orlando, were sitting in the

  back-parlor over our dinner (it being Christmas-time, Mr. Crump had treated the

  ladies to a bottle of port, and was longing that there should be a mistletoe-

  bough: at which proposal my little Jemimarann looked as red as a glass of

  negus):�we had just, I say, finished the port, when, all of a sudden, Tug

  bellows out, "La, Pa, here's uncle Tuggeridge's housekeeper in a cab!"

  And Mrs. Breadbasket it was, sure enough�Mrs. Breadbasket in deep mourning, who

  made her way, bowing and looking very sad, into the back shop. My wife, who

  respected Mrs. B. more than anything else in the world, set her a chair, offered

  her a glass of wine, and vowed it was very kind of her to come. "La, mem," says

  Mrs. B., "I'm sure I'd do anything to serve your family, for the sake of that

  poor dear Tuck-Tuck-tug-guggeridge, that's gone."

  "That's what?" cries my wife.

  "What, gone?" cried Jemimarann, bursting out crying (as little girls will about

  anything or nothing); and Orlando looking very rueful, and ready to cry too.

  "Yes, gaw�" Just as she was at this very "gaw" Tug roars out, "La, Pa! here's

  Mr. Bar, uncle Tug's coachman!"

  It was Mr. Bar. When she saw him, Mrs. Breadbasket stepped suddenly back into

  the parlor with my ladies. "What is it, Mr. Bar?" says I; and as quick as

  thought, I had the towel under his chin, Mr. Bar in the chair, and the whole of

  his face in a beautiful foam of lather. Mr. Bar made some resistance.�"Don't

  think of it, Mr. Cox," says he; "don't trouble yourself, sir." But I lathered

  away and never minded. "And what's this melancholy event, sir," says I, "that

  has spread desolation in your family's bosoms? I can feel for your loss, sir�I

  can feel for your loss."

  I said so out of politeness, because I served the family, not because Tuggeridge

  was my uncle�no, as such I disown him.

  Mr. Bar was just about to speak. "Yes, sir," says he, "my master's gaw�" when at

  the "gaw" in walks Mr. Hock, the own man!�the finest gentleman I ever saw.

  "What, YOU here, Mr. Bar!" says he.

  "Yes, I am, sir; and haven't I a right, sir?"

  "A mighty wet day, sir," says I to Mr. Hock�stepping up and making my bow. "A

  sad circumstance too, sir! And is it a turn of the tongs that you want to-day,

  sir? Ho, there, Mr. Crump!"

  "Turn, Mr. Crump, if you please, sir," said Mr. Hock, making a bow: "but from

  you, sir, never�no, never, split me!�and I wonder how some fellows can have the

  INSOLENCE to allow their MASTERS to shave them!" With this, Mr. Hock flung

  himself down to be curled: Mr. Bar suddenly opened his mouth in order to reply;

  but seeing there was a tiff between the gentlemen, and wanting to prevent a

  quarrel, I rammed the A
dvertiser into Mr. Hock's hands, and just popped my

  shaving-brush into Mr. Bar's mouth�a capital way to stop angry answers.

  Mr. Bar had hardly been in the chair one second, when whir comes a hackney-coach

  to the door, from which springs a gentleman in a black coat with a bag.

  "What, you here!" says the gentleman. I could not help smiling, for it seemed

  that everybody was to begin by saying, "What, YOU here!" "Your name is Cox,

  sir?" says he; smiling too, as the very pattern of mine. "My name, sir, is

  Sharpus,�Blunt, Hone and Sharpus, Middle Temple Lane,�and I am proud to salute

  you, sir; happy,�that is to say, sorry to say that Mr. Tuggeridge, of Portland

  Place, is dead, and your lady is heiress, in consequence, to one of the

  handsomest properties in the kingdom."

  At this I started, and might have sunk to the ground, but for my hold of Mr.

  Bar's nose; Orlando seemed putrified to stone, with his irons fixed to Mr.

  Hock's head; our respective patients gave a wince out:�Mrs. C., Jemimarann, and

  Tug, rushed from the back shop, and we formed a splendid tableau such as the

  great Cruikshank might have depicted.

  "And Mr. John Tuggeridge, sir?" says I.

  "Why�hee, hee, hee!" says Mr. Sharpus. "Surely you know that he was only

  the�hee, hee, hee!�the natural son!"

  You now can understand why the servants from Portland Place had been so eager to

  come to us. One of the house-maids heard Mr. Sharpus say there was no will, and

  that my wife was heir to the property, and not Mr. John Tuggeridge: this she

  told in the housekeeper's room; and off, as soon as they heard it, the whole

  party set, in order to be the first to bear the news.

  We kept them, every one in their old places; for, though my wife would have sent

  them about their business, my dear Jemimarann just hinted, "Mamma, you know THEY

  have been used to great houses, and we have not; had we not better keep them for

  a little?"�Keep them, then, we did, to show us how to be gentlefolks.

  I handed over the business to Mr. Crump without a single farthing of premium,

  though Jemmy would have made me take four hundred pounds for it; but this I was

  above: Crump had served me faithfully, and have the shop he should.

  FIRST ROUT.

  We were speedily installed in our fine house: but what's a house without

  friends? Jemmy made me CUT all my old acquaintances in the Market, and I was a

  solitary being; when, luckily, an old acquaintance of ours, Captain Tagrag, was

  so kind as to promise to introduce us into distinguished society. Tagrag was the

  son of a baronet, and had done us the honor of lodging with us for two years;

  when we lost sight of him, and of his little account, too, by the way. A

  fortnight after, hearing of our good fortune, he was among us again, however;

  and Jemmy was not a little glad to see him, knowing him to be a baronet's son,

  and very fond of our Jemimarann. Indeed, Orlando (who is as brave as a lion) had

  on one occasion absolutely beaten Mr. Tagrag for being rude to the poor girl: a

  clear proof, as Tagrag said afterwards, that he was always fond of her.

  Mr. Crump, poor fellow, was not very much pleased by our good fortune, though he

  did all he could to try at first; and I told him to come and take his dinner

  regular, as if nothing had happened. But to this Jemima very soon put a stop,

  for she came very justly to know her stature, and to look down on Crump, which

  she bid her daughter to do; and, after a great scene, in which Orlando showed

  himself very rude and angry, he was forbidden the house�for ever!

  So much for poor Crump. The Captain was now all in all with us. "You see, sir,"

  our Jemmy would say, "we shall have our town and country mansion, and a hundred

  and thirty thousand pounds in the funds, to leave between our two children; and,

  with such prospects, they ought surely to have the first society of England." To

  this Tagrag agreed, and promised to bring us acquainted with the very pink of

  the fashion; ay, and what's more, did.

  First, he made my wife get an opera-box, and give suppers on Tuesdays and

  Saturdays. As for me, he made me ride in the Park: me and Jemimarann, with two

  grooms behind us, who used to laugh all the way, and whose very beards I had

  shaved. As for little Tug, he was sent straight off to the most fashionable

  school in the kingdom, the Reverend Doctor Pigney's, at Richmond.

  Well, the horses, the suppers, the opera-box, the paragraphs in the papers about

  Mr. Coxe Coxe (that's the way: double your name and stick an "e" to the end of

  it, and you are a gentleman at once), had an effect in a wonderfully short space

  of time, and we began to get a very pretty society about us. Some of old Tug's

  friends swore they would do anything for the family, and brought their wives and

  daughters to see dear Mrs. Coxe and her charming girl; and when, about the first

  week in February, we announced a grand dinner and ball for the evening of the

  twenty-eighth, I assure you there was no want of company: no, nor of titles

  neither; and it always does my heart good even to hear one mentioned.

  Let me see. There was, first, my Lord Dunboozle, an Irish peer, and his seven

  sons, the Honorable Messieurs Trumper (two only to dinner): there was Count

  Mace, the celebrated French nobleman, and his Excellency Baron von Punter from

  Baden; there was Lady Blanche Bluenose, the eminent literati, author of "The

  Distrusted" "The Distorted," "The Disgusted," "The Disreputable One," and other

  poems; there was the Dowager Lady Max and her daughter, the Honorable Miss

  Adelaide Blueruin; Sir Charles Codshead, from the City; and Field-Marshal Sir

  Gorman O'Gallagher, K.A., K.B., K.C., K.W., K.X., in the service of the Republic

  of Guatemala: my friend Tagrag and his fashionable acquaintance, little Tom

  Tufthunt, made up the party. And when the doors were flung open, and Mr. Hock,

  in black, with a white napkin, three footmen, coachman, and a lad whom Mrs. C.

  had dressed in sugar-loaf buttons and called a page, were seen round the

  dinner-table, all in white gloves, I promise you I felt a thrill of elation, and

  thought to myself�Sam Cox, Sam Cox, who ever would have expected to see you

  here?

  After dinner, there was to be, as I said, an evening-party; and to this

  Messieurs Tagrag and Tufthunt had invited many of the principal nobility that

  our metropolis had produced. When I mention, among the company to tea, her Grace

  the Duchess of Zero, her son the Marquis of Fitzurse, and the Ladies North Pole

  her daughters; when I say that there were yet OTHERS, whose names may be found

  in the Blue Book, but shan't, out of modesty, be mentioned here, I think I've

  said enough to show that, in our time, No. 96, Portland Place, was the resort of

  the best of company.

  It was our first dinner, and dressed by our new cook, Munseer Cordongblew. I

  bore it very well; eating, for my share, a filly dysol allamater dotell, a

  cutlet soubeast, a pully bashymall, and other French dishes: and, for the frisky

  sweet wine, with tin tops to the bottles, called Champang, I must say that me

  and Mrs. Coxe- Tuggeridge Coxe drank a very good share of it (but the Claret and />
  Jonnysberger, being sour, we did not much relish). However, the feed, as I say,

  went off very well: Lady Blanche Bluenose sitting next to me, and being so good

  as to put me down for six copies of all her poems; the Count and Baron von

  Punter engaging Jemimarann for several waltzes, and the Field-Marshal plying my

  dear Jemmy with Champagne, until, bless her! her dear nose became as red as her

  new crimson satin gown, which, with a blue turban and bird-of- paradise

  feathers, made her look like an empress, I warrant.

  Well, dinner past, Mrs. C. and the ladies went off:�thunder-under- under came

  the knocks at the door; squeedle-eedle-eedle, Mr. Wippert's fiddlers began to

  strike up; and, about half-past eleven, me and the gents thought it high time to

  make our appearance. I felt a LITTLE squeamish at the thought of meeting a

  couple of hundred great people; but Count Mace and Sir Gorman O'Gallagher taking

  each an arm, we reached, at last, the drawing-room.

  The young ones in company were dancing, and the Duchess and the great ladies

  were all seated, talking to themselves very stately, and working away at the

  ices and macaroons. 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! She was seated at the further

  end of the room, looking very sulky; and I went up and took her arm, and brought

  her down to the place where the Duchesses were. "Oh, not there!" said Jemmy,

  trying to break away. "Nonsense, my dear," says I: "you are missis, and this is

  your place." Then going up to her ladyship the Duchess, says I, "Me and my

  missis are most proud of the honor of seeing of you."

  The Duchess (a tall red-haired grenadier of a woman) did not speak.

  I went on: "The young ones are all at it, ma'am, you see; and so we thought we

  would come and sit down among the old ones. You and I, ma'am, I think, are too

  stiff to dance."

  "Sir!" says her Grace.

  "Ma'am," says I, "don't you know me? My name's Cox. Nobody's introduced me; but,

  dash it, it's my own house, and I may present myself�so give us your hand,

  ma'am."

  And I shook hers in the kindest way in the world; but�would you believe it?�the

  old cat screamed as if my hand had been a hot 'tater. "Fitzurse! Fitzurse!"

  shouted she, "help! help!" Up scuffled all the other Dowagers�in rushed the

  dancers. "Mamma! mamma!" squeaked Lady Julia North Pole. "Lead me to my mother,"

  howled Lady Aurorer: and both came up and flung themselves into her arms.

  "Wawt's the raw?" said Lord Fitzurse, sauntering up quite stately.

  "Protect me from the insults of this man," says her Grace. "Where's Tufthunt? he

  promised that not a soul in this house should speak to me."

  "My dear Duchess," said Tufthunt, very meek.

  "Don't Duchess ME, sir. Did you not promise they should not speak; and hasn't

  that horrid tipsy wretch offered to embrace me? Didn't his monstrous wife sicken

  me with her odious familiarities? Call my people, Tufthunt! Follow me, my

  children!"

  "And my carriage," "And mine," "And mine!" shouted twenty more voices. And down

  they all trooped to the hall: Lady Blanche Bluenose and Lady Max among the very

  first; leaving only the Field-Marshal and one or two men, who roared with

  laughter ready to split.

  "Oh, Sam," said my wife, sobbing, "why would you take me back to them? they had

  sent me away before! I only asked the Duchess whether she didn't like rum-shrub

  better than all your Maxarinos and Curasosos: and�would you believe it?�all the

  company burst out laughing; and the Duchess told me just to keep off, and not to

  speak till I was spoken to. Imperence! I'd like to tear her eyes out."

  And so I do believe my dearest Jemmy would!

  A DAY WITH THE SURREY HOUNDS.

  Our ball had failed so completely that Jemmy, who was bent still upon fashion,