Page:Once a Week, Series 1, Volume II Dec 1859 to June 1860.pdf/512

26, 1860.] find that, at least, the gentlemen who frequented Lorenzo Villa had set their faces against the immoral sports and pastimes to be celebrated on Epsom Downs that day week. She had been given to understand that there was not a single form of iniquity which was not carried on at that dreadful place, even in broad daylight—and she shuddered but to think at what went on after sun-down; indeed, as she had understood on excellent authority, all the company were then in the last stage of intoxication.

I am afraid that Charley Hicks at this point winked slowly at Fred Ball—the consequence of which was, that that young gentleman swallowed a mouthful of tea the wrong way.

Mr. Ball, senior. (A stout gentleman about fifty-six.) “Yes, indeed, my dear Mrs. Winterbottom, it is most dreadful; but, leaving out of the question what actually does take place there, what is the nature of the enjoyment of which these miserable people profess to be in search? What do they go out to see? Infuriated animals goaded to their utmost speed amidst the curses of assembled thousands. For myself—as Mrs. Ball will tell you—it is a day which I usually devote to exertions of an extraordinary character. Though our usual habit is to rise from our couch at a quarter to eight, on that day I scorn repose, and am up and stirring at six. At a quarter to seven I start to catch the train for Watford, and spend a laborious day looking after the interests of the firm down in Essex. Indeed I never get home till past midnight: but where there is business to be done—”

It may be not improper to mention that the Misses Crabb then present were three rather mature maiden ladies, who inhabited a little semi-detached villa residence at Clapham, known as Mould Lodge. Their feelings with regard to the Derby Day were rather of an austere character, and necessarily so, inasmuch as year after year they had been exasperated by the spectacle of the long procession of drags, vans, carriages, cabs, and vehicles of every description, which streamed past their windows every Derby Day. They ought, of course, to have confined themselves strictly to the back of the house on this horrible anniversary, and done their worsted-work in the little back drawing-room which looked over the little garden with its water-butt and hollyhocks, but, somehow or other, they were always drawn by their curiosity to the front windows. They were three in number—and a sister sate at each window, groaning over the horrible spectacle beneath. The Misses Crabb were amongst the guests at Lorenzo Villa on this memorable evening.

Mrs. Ball more than confirmed the statements of her husband, whilst that gentleman sipped his tea with a grand air of paternal suavity. As a contrast in figure to this gentleman, who was short and stout, there was a tall thin solicitor present, by name Jonathan Larke, but whose character scarcely seemed in accordance with his patronymic—for he was apparently of a most gloomy turn of mind, and loved to expatiate upon such topics as the derivation of the word “diphtheria,” and the comparative state of mortality in Clapham and Brompton. It would have been an insult to human nature to suppose that a man of so hypochondriacal a character could ever lend his countenance to the miscalled amusements carried on at Epsom on the Derby Day. This gentleman was unmarried, but the frequenters of Lorenzo Villa, in the naughtiness of their imaginations, had frequently supposed that Miss Caroline Crabb was not altogether uninterested in his fortunes. He resided in Great Coram Street, and was a very influential member of the Mendicity Society. Whoever went to the Derby, it seemed reasonably certain that Mr. Jonathan Larke would not be there.

Then there was Mr. Ball’s senior partner, Mr. Toddle, who resided at Stamford Hill, and who was, in all psychological respects, the very opposite of his partner. The persons who had business with the firm were in the habit of nicknaming them Jean qui pleure and Jean qui rit. A more jovial, hearty, cheery little man than the junior partner was not to be found within the bills of mortality, but as he told the company that night, at Mrs. Winterbottom’s, it was necessary to stop within certain limits—and those limits, in his opinion, did not include the annual festivities at Epsom.

Messrs. Toddle and Ball, then, and Mr. Jonathan Larke, distinctly set their faces against the Derby Day. These gentlemen represented the consular senators, and were in themselves a host. With what unction they discoursed upon the subject to an admiring audience at Lorenzo Villa, and amidst the general applause, arrived at the conclusion, that the only excitement worthy of the dignity of our nature was to be found in business, and at a Fancy Bazaar.

I wish that considerations of space permitted me to expatiate at length Upon the serious but sentimental tournament which passed between Messrs. Charles Hicks and Frederick Ball on the one part, and Miss Isabella Winterbottom and Miss Rosa Bliss on the other. I am afraid that, in their little coterie which might be called the Lower House, the sentiments expressed with regard to the Derby Day, were not quite of so hostile a character as amongst the seniors. Indeed there were certain whispers and “asides” which attracted the attention of the three Misses Crabb, and in due course bore fruit, as we shall presently see.

Miss Caroline. “La! Matilda, it’s very odd,—did you notice Mr. Larke?”

Miss Matilda. “Yes, dear; how he was whispering with Mr. Toddle—and Mr. Ball?”

Miss Sophia. “He was saying something about a drag. They must have been talking about the Royal Humane Society, dear. A drag is a kind of grapple to pull drowning men out of the water.”

Mrs. Winterbottom wanted to know what it was that the young men did on Epsom Downs—what, in point of fact, were the distinctive features of the amusements on the Derby Day? Mr. Larke could not resolve her difficulties of his own personal knowledge; but he remembered to have heard when he was a youth, articled to the firm of Catchem and Bounce, that enormous sums of money changed hands at a game played with three thimbles and a pea, and there seemed to be some extraordinary fascination about this sport which