Part 37

"You are right," replied Daly; "fun is to me what ale was to Boniface; I sleep upon fun--I drink for fun--I talk for fun--I live for fun; hence my addiction to our dear funny friends of to-day. They just suit me--they do nothing but laugh; they laugh _with_ one when present, and _at_ one when absent--but to me that is the fun."

I immediately thought of the "funny" observations upon myself, which I had overheard earlier in the day, pretty well assured that the voice of my new laughter-loving acquaintance had not been the least loud in the debate.

"I admit myself fond of practical joking," continued my friend. "I don't mean in one's own particular circle--there it is dangerous; people are not always in the same humour--what they think uncommonly good fun one day, they will seriously resent as an insult the next. There's no judging with certainty a man's temper of mind, and it is not easy to ascertain how much melted butter a gentleman would like to have poured into his coat-pocket without kicking; I avoid that sort of thing, but on the great scale I confess my addiction. Coming here yesterday evening, I stopped the chaise at the corner of Egham, to turn the finger-post at the corner half round--sent all the people bound for London to Chertsey, all the people destined for Egham to Windsor, and all the people destined for Windsor to London--that's _my_ way."

"Probably," said I, "but not theirs. And do you often indulge yourself in these freaks?"

"Perpetually," replied Daly; "I've whipped off every knocker in Sloane-street three nights running--a hundred and ninety-four, exclusive of shops; and if ever the project of lighting London with smoke should be brought to bear, I flatter myself you will hear of my darkening the whole parish of Pancras, by grinding a gimblet through a gas-pipe."

"These frolics must cost something," said I.

"Occasionally," said my friend; "but what of that? Every man has his pursuits--I have mine."

"I should think," replied I, "if you perform such tricks often, your pursuits must be innumerable."

"What!" exclaimed Daly; "pursuits after me, you mean? I'm obliged to you for _that_--I see we shall be better acquainted--of that I am now quite certain. One thing I _must_ tell you of myself, because, although there is something equivocal in the outset of the adventure, I set it all to rights afterwards, and will prove to you that in fact all I did was done for fun--pure fun."

I foresaw an awkward discovery of some sort by the prefatory deprecation of criticism; however, I listened to my slight acquaintance with complacency and confidence.

"You must know," said Daly, "that I once had a brother,--long since dead,--and you must know that he was my elder brother, and he went abroad; I remained at home, and was my father's darling--he fancied nothing on earth was like me. I was the wittiest, if not the wisest fellow breathing; and I have seen my respectable parent shake his fat sides with laughing at my jokes and antics, till the tears ran down his rosy cheeks. Nevertheless I _had_ a fault,--I cannot distinctly aver that I have even yet overcome it,--I was extravagant--extravagant in everything--extravagant in mirth--extravagant in love--extravagant in money-matters. After my respected parent's death, I lodged at an upholsterer's--excellent man!--occupied his first floor--but paid him no rent; on the contrary, borrowed money of him."

"Indeed!" said I, "I----"

"Don't frown, Mr. Gurney," interrupted Daly, "you will find that it comes all right in the end. I'm as honest as a Parsee--don't be alarmed--I was then much younger than I am now; and, although the world unjustly, ungenerously, and invariably judge a man's character in after life by the foibles of his youth, don't be prejudiced, but hear me. I borrowed money of him--I consulted him upon all occasions--he was delighted with me, I with _him_--reciprocity of feeling, you know, and all that sort of thing. My upholsterer was my _cabinet_-minister--who better? who fitter to be consulted when any new measure was on the _tapis_? So things went on for a year, at the end of which, I owed him fourteen hundred and seventy-two pounds, thirteen shillings, and ninepence halfpenny, without the interest."

"That was no joke, Mr. Daly," said I.

"No; but what followed was," continued my equivocal friend. "My cabinet-minister applied for funds--I had none on hand. I therefore quitted London, and retired to the blest shades of Holyrood--not that this sort of constraint was at all necessary, for my friend, the sofa-maker, never troubled himself to inquire after me."

"Why, then, did you go?" said I.

"Why, you see I thought he might," replied Daly. "After I had hovered about Scotland, seen the sights, visited the Highlands, shot some grouse,--and a pretty job I made of that, umph!--I returned to Edinburgh, and began to be anxious to get back to London. I therefore took the resolution of killing myself forthwith."

"Horrible!" said I.

"Most horrible!" replied he; "nevertheless, I put that resolve into immediate execution."

"How?" I inquired.

"By transmitting an account of my death to the metropolitan newspapers in these words--'Died, at Antigua, on the 15th March, in the 28th year of his age, Robert Fergusson Daly, Esq., son of the late Thomas Fergusson Daly, Esq., of St. Mary Axe, London.'"

"What earthly purpose could that have answered?"

"You shall hear," said Daly. "About ten days after this announcement, having 'incurred' for a suit of mourning, I proceeded to my friend the upholsterer. Dear man, I recollect his little white bald head peering over his desk in the counting-house as well as if it were but yesterday--in I went--made a bow--up jumped my creditor.

"'Ah, Mr. Daly,' cried he, 'then what I have read in the newspaper is not true!--you are alive and merry.'

"Upon which I, looking as grave as a judge, said with a long-drawn sigh, 'Sir, I see you have fallen into the common mistake.'

"'Mistake, sir,' said he, 'no mistake in the world! Why, I read in the newspapers that you were dead. How those fellows do fib!'

"'In this instance,' I replied, 'they are as true as the tides to the moon--or the needle to the Pole.'

"'Why,' cried he, 'you are not dead, for here you are!'

"'So I am,' said I; 'but I am not the Mr. Daly who died in Antigua.'

"'That's very clear,' said the old cabinet-maker; 'for, as I said before, here you are.'

"'Still,' said I, 'sir,'--I thought the sir good--'you do not understand: I am the brother--the twin brother of poor Bob Daly who lived here with you, and who has died, as I unfortunately know, deep in your debt.'

"'What!' exclaimed the upholsterer, '_you_ his brother! Impossible--ridiculous! Why, I should know you from a thousand by that little knob on your nose.'

"'That may be, sir,' said I; 'but I was born with a knob on my nose as well as my brother. I assure you he is in his grave at Antigua.'

"This astounded him, and he was proceeding to ring the bell in order to call up the housemaid, who had made herself particularly familiar with my knob, in order to identify me, when I pacified him by fresh assurances that he was mistaken, and that I was come to settle the account due from my late brother to himself."

"This," said I, "was all very funny, no doubt; but _cui bono_?"

"_Nous verrons_," said Daly. "The moment I talked of paying, all doubt ended; he felt convinced that it could not be me; for he was quite of opinion that at that time I had no notion of muddling away my income in paying bills. So he listened, looking all the while at my knob--you see the thing I mean, Mr. Gurney," said Daly, pointing to a pimple; "till at last I begged to see his account--he produced it--I sighed--so did he.

"'Sir,' said he, 'this is--dear me, is it possible two people should be so much alike?--your brother's last account before he went.'

"I could not help saying, 'He is gone to his last account now, sir.' If it had been to save my life, I could never check my fun.

"'Lord, how like Mr. Robert that is!' said the upholsterer.

"'What is the amount?' said I.

"'Fourteen hundred and seventy-two pounds, thirteen shillings, and ninepence halfpenny. As for interest, Mr. Daly, I don't want it.'

"'Sir,' said I, drawing out of my pocket a handkerchief whiter than unsunned snow, 'I honour and reverence you. I can now account for the high respect and veneration with which my poor brother Bob used to speak of you and write about you. You shall judge what he has done;--he has died worth three thousand five hundred pounds; the claims upon him are numerous and heavy; in his letter, the last I ever received from him, he directs me to make an equitable division of his property.'

"'Poor fellow!' said the cabinet-maker.

"'An innocent young creature, with three children,' said I, 'first claims his care.'

"'Dear me!' said the man. 'Rely upon it I won't interfere there. No, no. I gave him credit further than he asked it. I won't visit his sins upon those who, perhaps, are helpless, and certainly blameless in this affair.'

"There was something so kind in this, that I was near betraying myself; but I should have spoiled the joke.

"'After those,' continued I, 'you come next; and, having divided his assets fairly, he decided that he could, acting conscientiously towards others, afford to pay you five shillings in the pound upon the amount due; and, accordingly, I have brought you to-day a sum calculated at that rate--that is to say, three hundred and sixty-eight pounds, thirteen shillings and sixpence, for I don't descend to fractions.'

"'Well, now,' said the honest old man, 'I love and honour him for that. He needn't have paid me a farthing. I knew not where he was;--and to think of me on his death-bed!--that, sir, shows good principle; and as you are so like him in everything else,--and how like him you are, to be sure!--I hope and trust--don't be angry, sir--that you will follow the example he has set you in the last act of his life.'

"'Then,' said I, 'you accept the proposal?'

"'Most happily, sir,' said he. 'I tell you I honour his feelings. I had given the whole thing up as lost: I thought he was a hard-hearted and a practised taker-in of credulous men----'

"'Sir,' said I, bowing, 'you little knew my poor brother Bob if you thought that. Here, sir, is the money; all I ask, as a satisfaction to the interesting young creature who survives him, is a receipt in full of all demands as against him.'

"'In course, Mr. Daly,' said the upholsterer, taking the notes I proffered. 'Why, la!' exclaimed he, 'I declare you have got the very ring on, that I have seen a hundred times, with a leetel patent key twisted into the inside, that he used to wear.'

"'Yes,' said I, rather taken aback at this; for with all my cunning I had forgotten to disring my finger for the occasion. 'Yes, it was the only thing he left me; and I wear it for his sake.'

"'And how well it fits!' said the cabinet-maker.

"'Often the case with twins,' said I. 'There are two hundred, three hundred, and fifty, a ten pound note, eight guineas, and five shillings and sixpence; count it yourself.

"'And now,' said he, 'I am to give you a receipt in full; to be sure I will. But I do wish you would do me one favour, sir,' continued he; 'I wish you would let my housemaid Becky see you; she was very fond of your poor brother, and very attentive to him, and I should--I know it is taking a great liberty--I should like her to see you.'

"'I should be too happy,' said I, trembling at the apprehension that the girl, who was more than usually civil to me while I lived in the lodgings, should make her appearance, convinced that she would not be deceived as to the identity, or believe in the story of two brothers having the same knobs on their noses; 'but don't you think it might shock the poor young woman?'

"'No, no, sir,' said he, looking over a black leather book for a proper stamp; 'Becky isn't frightened at trifles; shall I ring?'

"I could not help myself, and Becky was summoned. Luckily, however, she had just stepped out to get something, and satisfied, by the way in which the other servant conveyed the intelligence to her master, that it was not very probable she would soon return, I screwed my courage to the sticking-place, and remained until he had written, signed, and delivered my entire acquittance from my whole debt, in consideration of the receipt of three hundred and sixty-eight pounds thirteen shillings and sixpence; having secured which, I made my bow and left my upholsterer, not ill pleased with the adventure of the day."

"Yes, sir," said I, after I had heard this narrative, "but I see no joke in all this: it appears to me that a person less favourably disposed than myself would find a very different name for such a proceeding."

"So would anybody," said my valuable friend, "if it were not for the sequel. A short time after, I had the means to set all right, and lost no time in doing so; I confessed my _ruse_ to my worthy friend, made him laugh heartily at his own credulity, paid him the difference, and gave Becky a guinea or two."

I honestly confess, that although my new friend polished off the end of his story with a few retributive facts, the account of his adventure with the cabinet-maker did not very much elevate him in my opinion, and I began again to repent of having hastily engaged myself as a passenger in his boat, so appropriately, as he himself said, called a "funny." The only consolation I could afford myself arose from the consideration that our connection would not be of long duration--that it need never be renewed--that few people, if any, would see me in my way up the river--and that, from all I had heard of him from himself, he did not appear likely to die a watery death, so that my personal safety was rather guaranteed than not, by my having placed myself under his command in our aquatic excursion.

I had never seen such a man before, nor have I ever seen such a one since: from the time he sat down to dinner till all was done, his tongue never ceased--he was _au-fait_ at everything--played billiards better than anybody I ever saw--jumped higher--imitated birds and beasts, including men, women, and children, more correctly--caught more fish in an hour than all the rest of the punters did in three--sang all sorts of songs--made speeches--and told stories of himself which would have made my poor mother's hair stand on end. One of his practical jokes, played off upon one of the ladies of our party, I must set down. She had never been at Richmond before, or if she had, knew none of the little peculiarities attached to it. He desired the waiter to bring some "maids of honour"--those cheesecakes for which the place has been time out of mind so celebrated. The lady stared and then laughed; Daly saw her surprise, and elicited all he wanted--her innocent question of, "What do you mean by maids of honour?" "Dear me," said he, "don't you know that this is so courtly a place, and so completely under the influence of state etiquette, that everything in Richmond is called after the functionaries of the palace? What are called cheesecakes elsewhere, are here called maids of honour; a capon is a lord-chamberlain; a goose, a lord-steward; a roast pig is a master of the horse; a pair of ducks, grooms of the bedchamber; and a gooseberry tart, a gentleman usher of the black rod; and so on."

The unsophisticated lady was taken in; and with all the confidence which Daly's gravity inspired, when she actually saw the maids of honour make their appearance in the shape of cheesecakes, convulsed the whole party, by turning to the waiter and desiring him, in a sweet but decided tone, to bring her a gentleman usher of the black rod, if they had one in the house quite cold.

These were the sort of _plaisanteries_ (_mauvaises_, if you will) in which this most extraordinary person indulged. In the sequel, I had occasion to see his versatile powers more profitably engaged, and which led me to reflect somewhat more seriously upon the adventure of the upholsterer and the receipt in full of all demands.

The dinner was rather inconveniently despatched, in order to suit the convenience of the engaged performers, and by seven o'clock my new friend and myself were left to commence our voyage up the river. His spirits appeared even higher than they had been before, and I felt myself, when consigned to his care, something in the same situation as Mr. O'Rourke on the eagle's back: whither I was to be carried by his influence, or how to be dashed down when he got tired of me I could not clearly comprehend; nor were my apprehension of consequences in any satisfactory degree diminished when my perilous companion commenced a violent wordy attack upon a very respectable round-bodied gentleman who was sitting squeezed into the stern-sheets of a skiff, floating most agreeably to himself adown the stream, the gentle south-west breeze giving the sail of his boat a shape very similar to that of his equally well-filled white dimity waistcoat.

"Hollo!" cried my friend Daly; "I say, you sir, what are you doing in that boat?"

The suburban Josh maintained a dignified silence.

"I say, you sir," continued the undaunted joker, "what are you doing there? you have no business in that boat, and you know it!"

A slight yaw of the skiff into the wind's eye was the only proof of the stout navigator's agitation.

Still Daly was inexorable, and he again called to the unhappy mariner to get out of the boat. "I tell you, my fat friend," cried he, "you have no business in that boat!"

Flesh and blood could not endure this reiterated declaration. The ire of the Cockney was roused. "No business in this boat, sir!" cried he, "what d'ye mean?"

"I mean what I say," said Daly; "you have no business in it, and I'll prove it."

"I think, sir, you will prove no such thing," said the navigator, whose progress through the water was none of the quickest; "perhaps you don't know, sir, that this is my own pleasure-boat?"

"That's it," said Daly, "now you _have_ it--no man can have any _business_ in a _pleasure_-boat. Good-day, sir. That's all."

I confess I was a good deal shocked at this mode of terminating the colloquy. However, no ill consequences arose; the fat man went his way, and so did we, and in a few minutes more embarked in Daly's "pleasure"-boat, in which I felt, according to his dictum, that I had no business whatever.

Richmond, which seems, every time one sees it, as if it were dressed to look lovely for that particular day, was smiling in all its radiance and gaiety; the velvet meadows of Twickenham, studded with noble trees, looked cooler and greener than ever; and my friend began to perform that incomprehensibly agreeable exercise of pulling up against the stream, when all at once a thought seemed to flash across his mind and a look of regret sadden his countenance; the expression was too distinct to be mistaken or disregarded.

"What," said I, "what is the matter? have you left anything behind?"

"No," said he, laughing; "but if I had thought of it, we would not have come away so soon from Richmond; and I would have shown you some sport in Cockney-catching."

"What do you mean?" asked innocent I.

"A trick specially my own," replied Daly, "to be played with the greatest success between the grounds of Sion and Kew Gardens. Thus:--In the dusk of the evening--I prescribe scientifically--take a strong line, fix him to a peg in the bank of Sion, carry him across the river, and fix him to another peg in the bank of Kew; strain him tight, and then retire to watch the effect. Tide running down, presently comes a Cockney couple, the man flirting and pulling, the lady sitting and smiling; when they reach the chosen spot, the tight line catches the Cockney Corydon on the back of his head, and tumbles him forward at the feet of his Phyllis; in a twinkling, the same effect is produced on the lady, with this single simple difference, that the cord catches _her_ under the chin, and tumbles her backwards. In the confusion of the moment, tide ebbing fast, the happy pair are swept down the stream, and having, after the lapse of a few minutes, set themselves to rights again, begin to wonder what has happened, and of course never think of trying back against tide to ascertain the cause; which, however, if they did, would assist them little, for the moment you have caught your Cockneys, you cast off the line from the peg, and the cause of the mischief disappears from the sight--_probatum est_."

"That seems rather a serious joke," said I.

"Umph!" replied Daly; "perhaps you would prefer keeping the line, but for my part I am not particular."

This he certainly need not have mentioned. Every moment added fresh evidence to the fearful fact; I was yet unprepared for what was to come.

"I wish," said my friend, as he plied the oar, "that we had stayed a little longer at Richmond. I think one more bottle of claret, _tête-à-tête_, would have been vastly agreeable."

"I should not have disliked it myself," said I. "Is it impossible to repair the mischief?--is there no agreeable retreat on these shores, in which we may solace ourselves for our imprudence?"

"No," said my friend; "the Eel-pie House is a wretched hole--the inns at Twickenham are all inland--there is nothing marine short of the Toy, and we are to part long before I reach that much-loved spot."

"Then," said I, "we must make up our minds to the evil, and bear it as well as we can."

At this moment we were under the bank of a beautiful garden, upon which opened a spacious bow-windowed dinner-room, flanked by an extensive conservatory. Within the circle of the window was placed a table, whereon stood bottles and decanters, rising, as it were, from amidst a cornucopia of the choicest fruits. Around this table were seated a highly-respectable family; a portly gentleman, whose cheeks and chin gave ample evidence that such refections were "his custom always in the afternoon," and near him a lady, evidently his better, if not his larger half--on either side bloomed two young creatures, unquestionably the daughters of the well-fed pair. Our appearance, although the lawn was some twenty or thirty yards in depth, had caught their attention, as their respective forms and figures had attracted our notice.

"There," said I, "this scene is exhibited to us by our evil genius, to tantalize us with the prospect we may not enjoy."

"You are wrong," said Daly, "quite wrong--be quiet--beautiful girls, cool wine, and agreeable society, are worth making a dash for. Those girls will we become acquainted with--that society will we join--those wines will we imbibe."

"Do you know them?" said I.

"Never saw them by any chance in my life," said Daly; "but here goes--the thing is settled--arranged--done. Have you a pocket-book and a pencil about you? if you have, lend them to _me_; say nothing, and I will manage the rest. Assent to all I assert, and stay in the boat till we are invited to partake of the collation."

"But, my dear sir," said I.

"Mum," said Daly, at the same moment pulling the head of his funny 'chock block,' as the sailors say, into the bank of the garden, upon whose velvet surface he jumped with the activity of an opera dancer. I sat in amazement, doubting what he was about to do, and what I should do myself. The first thing I saw was my friend pacing in measured steps along the front of the terrace. He then affected to write down something in my book--then he stopped--raised his hand to his eyes, as if to make an horizon in order to obtain a level--then noted something more--and then began to pace the ground afresh.