"Who's that, Mr. Titmouse?" inquired Miss Quirk, with a little eagerness, observing—women are very quick in detecting such matters—that both Gammon and Titmouse looked rather embarrassed.
"It's the—the Aubreys," replied Titmouse.
"Eh! By Jove!—is it?" quickly inquired old Quirk, putting his head out of the window; "how very odd, to meet the old birds? Egad! their nest must be yet warm—ha! ha!"
"What! dear papa, are those the people you've turned out? Gracious! I thought I heard some one say that Miss Aubrey was pretty! La! I'm sure I thought—now what do you think, Mr. Titmouse?" she added, turning abruptly and looking keenly at him.
"Oh! 'pon my life, I—I—see nothing at all in her—devilish plain, I should say—infernally pale, and all that!"
They were soon on their way again. Titmouse quickly recovered his equanimity, but Gammon continued silent and thoughtful for many—many miles; and the reader would not be surprised at it, if he knew as well as I do the thoughts which the unexpected sight of that travelling-carriage of Mr. Aubrey had suggested to Mr. Gammon.
As they approached the scene of triumph and rejoicing, and ascertained that they were within about a mile of the peaceful little village of Yatton, the travellers began to look out for indications of the kind which Mr. Gammon had mentioned to Titmouse, viz. a band and procession, and an attendant crowd. But however careful and extensive might have been the arrangements of those to whom that matter had been intrusted, they were likely to be sadly interfered with by a circumstance which, happening just then, might, to a weaker and more superstitious mind than that of Mr. Titmouse, have looked a little ominous—namely, the occurrence of a tremendous thunder-storm. It was then about five o'clock in the afternoon. The whole day had been overcast, and the sky threatening; and just as the two carriages came to that turning in the road which gave them the first glimpse of the Hall—only, however, the tops of the great antique brick chimneys, which were visible above the surrounding trees—a fearful, long-continued flash of lightning burst from the angry heavens, followed, after an interval of but a second or two, by a peal of thunder which sounded as if a park of artillery was being repeatedly discharged immediately overhead.
"Mind your horses' heads, boys," called out Mr. Gammon; "keep a tight rein."
Miss Quirk was dreadfully alarmed, and clung to her father; Titmouse also seemed disconcerted, and looked to Gammon, who was perfectly calm, though his face was not free from anxiety. The ghastly glare of the lightning was again around them—all involuntarily hid their faces in their hands—and again rattled the thunder in a peal lasting more than half a minute, and seeming to be in frightful contiguity, as it were only a few yards above their heads. Down, then, came the long-suspended rain, pouring like a deluge, and so it continued, with frequent returns of the thunder and lightning, for nearly a quarter of an hour. The last turning brought them within sight of the village, and also of some fifty or sixty persons crowding under the hedges, on each side—these were the triumphant procession; musicians, flagmen, footmen, horsemen, all dripping with wet, and constituting surely a spectacle piteous to behold. Out, however, they all turned, true to their orders, as soon as they saw the carriages, which immediately slackened their speed—the rain also somewhat abating. The flagman tried desperately to unroll a wet banner, of considerable size, with the words:—
"Welcome to Yatton!"
in gilded letters; while the band (consisting of a man with a big drum, another with a serpent, a third with a trumpet, a fourth with a bassoon, two with clarionets, and a boy with a fife) struck up—"See the conquering hero comes!" They puffed and blew lustily; bang! bang! bang! went the drum; but the rain, the thunder, and the lightning woefully interfered with their harmony. 'Twould have made your heart ache to see the wet flag clinging obstinately to the pole, in spite of all the efforts of its burly bearer! But now for the procession—first, on horseback, was Barnabas Bloodsuck, (senior,) Esq.; beside him rode his son, Barnabas Bloodsuck, (junior,) Esq.; then came the Reverend Gideon Fleshpot, solemn simpleton, the vicar of Grilston, the only Radical clergyman in that part of the country; beside him, the Reverend Smirk Mudflint, a flippant, bitter, little Unitarian parson, a great crony of Mr. Fleshpot, and his surname singularly enough exactly designating the qualities of his brain and heart. Next to these, alone in his one-horse chaise, (looking like a pill-box drawn by a leech,) came the little fat Whig apothecary, Gargle Glister, Esq. Following him came, also in a gig, Going Gone, Esq., the auctioneer—the main prop of the Liberal side, being a most eloquent speaker—and Mr. Hic Hæc Hoc, a learned schoolmaster, who undertook to teach the rudiments of Latin, viz. the Latin grammar up as far as the irregular verbs. Then there were Mr. Centipede, the editor, and Mr. Woodhouse, the publisher and proprietor of the "Yorkshire Stingo," for which, also, Mr. Mudflint wrote a great deal. These, and about a dozen others, the flower of the "party" thereabouts, disdainful of the inclement weather, bent on displaying their attachment to the new owner of Yatton, and solacing each his patient inner man with anticipation of the jolly cheer awaiting him at the Hall, formed the principal part of the procession; the rest consisting of rather a miscellaneous assortment of scot-and-lot and potwalloper-looking people, all very wet and hungry, and very frequently casting looks of devout expectation towards the Hall. Scarcely a villager of Yatton was to be seen stirring; nor did any of the tenants of the estate join in the procession; even had they not felt far otherwise disposed, they had luckily a complete excuse for their non-appearance in the deplorable state of the weather. Sometimes the band played; then a peal of thunder came; then a cry of "hurra! Titmouse forever! hurra!" then the band, and then the thunder, and rain! rain! rain! Thus they got to the park gates, where they paused, the half-drowned men and boys shouting, "Titmouse forever! hurra—a—a!" Mr. Titmouse bobbing about, now at one window, then at the other, with his hat off, in the most gracious manner. Really it seemed almost as if the elements were indicating the displeasure of heaven at Mr. Titmouse's assumption of Yatton; for just as he was passing under the old gateway, out flashed the lightning more vividly than it had yet appeared, and the thunder bellowed and reverberated among the woods as though it would never have ceased. The music and shouting now ended suddenly; carriages, horsemen, pedestrians, quickened their pace in silence, as if anxious to get out of the storm; the horses now and then plunging and rearing violently. Titmouse was terribly frightened, in spite of his desperate efforts to appear unconcerned. He was as pale as death, and looked anxiously at Gammon, as if hoping to derive courage from the sight of his rigid countenance. Miss Quirk trembled violently, and several times uttered a faint scream: but her father, old Mr. Quirk, did not seem to care a pinch of snuff about the whole matter; he rubbed his hands together cheerily, chucked his daughter under the chin, rallied Titmouse, and now and then nudged and jeered Gammon, who seemed disposed to be serious and silent. Having drawn up opposite the Hall door, it was opened by Mr. Griffiths, with a saddened, but still respectful look and manner; and in the same way might be characterized some six or seven servants standing behind him, in readiness to receive the new-comers. The half-drowned musicians tried to strike up "Rule Britannia," as the hero of the day, Mr. Titmouse, descended from his carriage, Mr. Griffiths holding an umbrella for him, and bounded out of the rain with a hop, step, and jump into the Hall, where the first words he was heard to utter, were—
"What a devilish rum old place!"
"God bless you! God bless you! God bless you, Titmouse!" exclaimed old Mr. Quirk, grasping him by the hand as soon as he had entered. Titmouse shook hands with Miss Quirk, who immediately followed a female servant to an apartment, being exceedingly nervous and agitated. Gammon seemed a little out of spirits; and said simply, "You know, Mr. Titmouse, how fervently I congratulate you."
"Oh! my dear boy, Tit, do, for Heaven's sake, if you want the thunder and lightning to cease, order those wretched devils off—send them anywhere, but do stop their cursed noise, my dear boy!" exclaimed Mr. Yahoo, as soon as he had entered, putting his fingers to his ears.
"Mr. what's-your-name," said Titmouse, addressing Mr. Griffiths, "I'll trouble you to order off those fellows and their infernal noise. Demme! there's a precious row making up above, and surely one at a time will do—demme!"
"Ah, ha, capital joke, by Jove! capital!" said Mr. Fitz-Snooks, arranging his shirt-collar.
"A—Titmouse—by Jupiter!" said Mr. Yahoo, as, twirling his fingers about in his long black hair, of which he seemed very proud, he glanced about the Hall, "this a'n't so much amiss! Do you know, my dear boy, I rather like it; it's substantial, antique, and so forth!"
"Who are those dem ugly old fellows up there?" presently exclaimed Titmouse, as, with his glass stuck into his right eye, and his hands into his coat-pockets, he stood staring at the old-fashioned pictures.
"Some of them, sir," replied Mr. Griffiths, with an irrepressible sigh, "are ancestors of the Dreddlingtons, others of the Aubrey families. They are very old, sir," continued Mr. Griffiths, "and are much admired, and Mr. Aubrey desired me to say, that if you should be disposed to part"–
"Oh confound him, he may have 'em all, if he'll pay for 'em, if that's what he wants: I shall soon send them packing off!" Mr. Griffiths bowed, and very nearly shed a tear. By this time the Hall was crowded with the gentlemen who had formed part of the procession, and who came bowing and scraping to the new lord of Yatton, congratulating him, and wishing him health and happiness. As soon as he could disengage himself from their flattering but somewhat troublesome civilities, Tweedle (his valet) came and whispered, "Will you dress, sir? All is ready," and Titmouse followed him to the dressing-room which had formerly been young Mrs. Aubrey's. 'Twas the first time that Titmouse had ever experienced the attentions of a valet; and he was quite nonplussed at the multitudinousness and elegance of the arrangements around him. Such quantities of clothes of all sorts—dressing-implements, curling-irons, combs, brushes, razors, a splendid dressing-case, scents in profusion, oils, bear's-grease, four or five different sorts of soaps, &c. &c. &c.; all this gave Titmouse a far livelier idea of his altered circumstances, of his having really become a GENTLEMAN, than anything which he had up to that moment experienced. He thought his valet one of the cleverest and most obliging men in the world, only somewhat oppressive with his attentions; and at length Mr. Titmouse said he preferred this time, dressing alone, and so dismissed his obsequious attendant; whom, however, he was soon obliged to summon to his assistance after all, not knowing the proper uses of several implements about him. Having completed his toilet, he descended into the drawing-room; which, as well as the dining-room, was ready prepared for the banquet, covers being laid for forty or fifty, and good substantial fare provided for at least as many more, in the servants' hall, where operations had already commenced. On entering the drawing-room, his appearance seemed to produce a great sensation; and after a momentary and embarrassing pause, the only county gentleman who was present, advanced and introduced himself, his wife and daughter. This was Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire, Baronet, a tall and somewhat corpulent man of about fifty, very choleric and overbearing; his countenance showing the hard life he had led, his nose being red, and his forehead and mouth beset with pimples. He had been a bitter political opponent of Mr. Aubrey, and once a member for the county; but had so crippled his resources by hunting and horse-racing, as to compel the sacrifice of their town amusements; viz. his seat in the House of Commons, and Lady Wildfire's box at the opera. This had soured both of them not a little, and they had completely sunk out of the county circle, in which they had once been sufficiently conspicuous. Sir Harkaway had an eye to the borough of Yatton on the happening of the next election, as soon as he had obtained an inkling that the new proprietor of Yatton was a very weak young man; and hence his patronizing presence at Yatton, in consequence of the invitation respectfully conveyed to him in Mr. Titmouse's name, through Messrs. Bloodsuck and Son. Besides Lady Wildfire and her daughter, both of whom had inquired with a sort of haughty curiosity about the lady who had accompanied Mr. Titmouse from town—a point which had been at length cleared up to their satisfaction—there were about a dozen ladies, the wives of the gentlemen who had borne so distinguished a part in the triumphal procession. They certainly looked rather a queer set; and none of them dared to speak either to Lady Wildfire or her daughter till spoken to by them. Never had old Yatton beheld within its walls so motley a group; and had the Aubreys continued there, hospitable as they were, accessible and charitable as they were, I leave the reader to guess whether such creatures ever would have found their way thither. By such guests, however, were the two principal tables crowded on this joyous occasion, and about half-past six o'clock the feast commenced, and a feast it certainly was, both elegant and substantial, nothing having been spared that money could procure. Mr. Aubrey had a fine cellar of wines at Yatton, which, owing to some strange misunderstanding, had been sold by private contract, not among his own friends in the neighborhood, as Mr. Aubrey had intended, and imagined that he had directed, but to Mr. Titmouse. Choice, indeed, were these wines, and supplied on the present occasion in wanton profusion. Champagne, Burgundy, and claret, flowed like water, and the rich old port, sherry, and madeira in like manner;—these last, however, not being confined to the two principal rooms, but finding their way into the servants' hall, where they there drank without stint. Merriment echoed uproariously from all parts of the old Hall, and Mr. Titmouse was universally declared to be a very fine fellow, and likely to become by far the most popular man in the county. The Reverend Mr. Fleshpot said grace, and the Reverend Mr. Mudflint returned thanks; and shortly afterwards Sir Harkaway arose, and, his eye fixed firmly on the adjoining borough, and also on the jolly table which promised to be ever open to him at Yatton, he proposed the health of the distinguished proprietor of Yatton, in a very flattering and energetic speech. The toast was received with the utmost enthusiasm; the gentlemen shouted and jingled their glasses on the table, while the ladies waved their handkerchiefs; indeed the scene was one of such overpowering excitement, that Miss Quirk burst into tears, overcome by her emotions; her papa winking very hard to those about him, and using every exertion in his power to point the attention of those present to the probability that a very near and tender relationship was about to exist between that young lady and Mr. Titmouse. Mr. Gammon, who sat next to Titmouse, assured him that it was absolutely necessary for him to make a speech to the company, in acknowledgment of the compliment which had just been paid him.
"I shall put my foot into it—by jingo I shall! You must help me!" he whispered to Mr. Gammon, in an agony of trepidation and a mist of confusion, as he rose from his chair, being welcomed in the most enthusiastic manner, by applause of every kind, lasting for several minutes. At length, when the noise had subsided into a fearful silence, he stammered out, prompted incessantly by Mr. Gammon, something exceedingly like the following, if, indeed, he did not use these very words.
"Mr.—I beg pardon—Sir Hark—away, and gentlemen—gentlemen and ladies, am most uncommon, monstrous—particular happy to—to—(eh? what d'ye say, Mr. Gammon?) see you all here—at this place—here—at Yatton.—(Applause.) Ladies and gentlemen—I say—hem!—unaccustomed as—(much applause, during which Titmouse stooped and whispered to Gammon—"Curse me if I can catch a word you say!") Happy and proud to see you all here—at Yatton—homes of my ancestry—known to you all—centuries. Enjoyed yourselves, I hope—(great applause)—and hope you'll often come and do the same—(still greater applause.) Particular glad to see the ladies—(applause)—often heard of the beauties of Yatton—never believed it—no—beg pardon, mean I now see them—(applause.) Am fond of horses—(applause)—racing, hunting, and all that. (Here Sir Harkaway, extending his hand, publicly shook that of the eloquent speaker.) Sorry to turn out the—the—old bird—but—nest not his—mine all the while—(sensation)—bear him no ill-will—(applause.) Political principles—(profound silence.) Liberal principles—(loud applause)—rights of the people—religious liberty and all that—(vociferous applause)—found at my post in the hour of danger—enemy stole a march on me—(great laughter and applause.) Won't detain you—ladies and gentlemen—drink your good healths, and many happy returns of the day." Down sat Mr. Titmouse, exhausted by his maiden speech; and quite overpowered, moreover, by the extraordinary applause with which he was greeted at its conclusion. In due course, many other toasts were drunk; among them were—"Lady Wildfire and the married ladies." "Miss Wildfire and the single ladies." "Sir Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire." "Religious Liberty," (to which Mr. Mudflint responded in a very eloquent speech.) "The Liberty of the Press;" "Messrs Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, the enterprising, skilful, and learned professional advisers of Mr. Titmouse." Dancing was now loudly called for; and the hall was speedily prepared for it. By this time, however, it was past eleven o'clock; the free potations of all the gentlemen, and indeed (to be candid) of more than one of the ladies, were beginning to tell, and the noise and confusion were very great. Fierce confused sounds issued from the servants' hall, where it proved that a great fight was going on between Pumpkin the gardener, and a man who insisted on shouting "Titmouse forever—down with Aubrey!" Pumpkin, I am not sorry to say, had much the best of it, and beat his opponent, after a severe encounter, into silence and submission. Then there were songs sung in all the rooms at once—speeches made, half-a-dozen at the same time; in short, never before had such doings been witnessed, or such uproar heard, within the decorous, dignified, and venerable precincts of Yatton. Scenes ensued which really baffle description. Mr. Titmouse, of course, drank prodigiously, although Mr. Gammon never left his side, and checked him fifty times when he was about to fill his glass. The excitement thus produced by wine will, I trust, in some measure mitigate the reader's indignation at hearing of a little incident which occurred, in which Titmouse was concerned, and which, about half past three or four o'clock in the morning, served to bring that brilliant entertainment to a somewhat abrupt and rather unpleasant termination. Scarcely knowing where he was, or what he was about, I am sorry to say, that while standing, as well as he could, beside Miss Wildfire, to dance for the fifth time with her—a plump, fair-faced, good-natured girl of about nineteen or twenty—he suddenly threw his arms around her, and imprinted half-a-dozen kisses on her forehead, lips, cheek, and neck, before she could recover from the confusion into which this monstrous outrage had thrown her. Her faint shriek reached her father's ears, while he was, in a distant part of the room, persecuting Miss Quirk with drunken and profligate impertinence. Hastily approaching the quarter whence his daughter's voice had issued, he beheld her just extricated from the insolent embrace of the half-unconscious Titmouse, and greatly agitated. With flaming eye and outstretched arm, he approached his unfortunate little host, and seizing hold of his right ear, almost wrung it out of his head, Titmouse actually yelling with the pain which he experienced. Still retaining his hold, uttering the while most fearful imprecations—Sir Harkaway gave him three violent kicks upon the seat of honor, the last of them sending him spinning into the arms of old Mr. Quirk, who was hurrying up to his relief, and who fell flat on the floor with the violent concussion. Then Miss Quirk rushed forward and screamed; a scene of dreadful confusion ensued; and at length the infuriated and half-drunken baronet, forced away by his wife and his daughter, aided by several of the company, quitted the Hall, and got into his carriage, uttering fearful threats and curses all the way home; without once adverting to the circumstance, of which also Lady Wildfire and her daughter were not aware, that he had been himself engaged in perpetrating nearly the same sort of misconduct which he had so severely and justly punished in poor Titmouse. As for Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz-Snooks, they had been in quest of similar sport the whole night; and had each of them, in pursuing their adventures in the servants' hall, very narrowly escaped much more serious indignities and injuries than had fallen to the lot of the hospitable owner of the mansion.
About half-past four o'clock, the sun was shining in cloudless splendor, the air cleared, and all nature seeming freshened after the storm of the preceding day; but what a scene was presented at Yatton! Two or three persons, one with his hat off, asleep; another grasping a half-empty bottle; and a third in a state of desperate indisposition, were to be seen, at considerable distances from each other, by the side of the carriage-road leading down to the park gates. Four or five horses, ready saddled and bridled, but neglected, and apparently forgotten by both servants and masters, were wandering about the fine green old court opposite the Hall door, eating the grass, and crushing with their hoofs the beautiful beds of flowers and shrubs which surrounded it. Mr. Glister's gig had got its wheels entangled with the old sundial—having been drawn thither by the horse, which had been put into it at least two hours before; opposite the Hall door stood the post-chaise which had brought Mr. and Mrs. Mudflint and their daughter. The latter two were sitting in it, one asleep—the other, Mrs. Mudflint, anxiously on the look-out for her husband, from time to time calling to him, but in vain; for about half an hour before, he had quitted the room where he, Mr. Fleshpot, Mr. Going Gone, and Mr. Centipede had been playing a rubber at whist, till all of them had nearly fallen asleep with their cards in their hands, and made his way to the stables; where, not finding his chaise in the yard, or his horses in the stalls, he supposed his wife and daughter had gone home, whither he followed them by the footpath leading through the fields which stretched along the high-road to Grilston; and along which said fields he was, at that moment, staggering, hiccuping, not clearly understanding where he was, nor where he had last seen his wife and daughter. Candles and lamps were still burning and glimmering in some of the rooms; and in the servants' hall there were some dozen or so of the lower kind of guests, who, having awakened from a deep sleep, were calling for more ale, or wine, or whatever else they could get. Some of the old family servants had fled hours before from scenes of such unwanted riot, to their bedrooms, and, having locked and barricaded the doors, had gone to sleep. Mr. Griffiths sat in an old armchair in the library, the picture of misery; he had been repeatedly abused and insulted during the night, and had gone thither, unable to bear the sight of the disgusting revelry that was going forward. In short, at every point that caught the eye, were visible the evidences of the villanous debauchery which had prevailed for the last seven hours; and which, under the Titmouse dynasty, was likely to prevail at all times thereafter. As for Mr. Titmouse, half stunned with the treatment which he had experienced at the hands of Sir Harkaway, he had been carried to bed—where his excessive, miscellaneous, and long-continued potations aggravating the effect of the serious injuries which he had sustained, he lay sprawling, half undressed, in a truly deplorable condition. Mr. Glister, who had been summoned to his bedside upwards of an hour before, sat now nodding in his chair beside his patient; and pretty nearly in a state of similar exhaustion were his valet and the housekeeper, who had, from time to time, wiped her eyes and sobbed aloud when thinking of past times, and the horrid change which had come over old Yatton. Mr. Yahoo, Mr. Fitz-Snooks, Mr. Snap, Mr. Quirk, and Miss Quirk, (the last having retired to her bedroom in the utmost terror, at the time of Titmouse's mischance,) were in their respective chambers, all of them probably asleep. Poor Hector, chained to his kennel, having barked himself hoarse for several hours, lay fast asleep, no one having attended to him, or given him anything to eat since Mr. Titmouse's arrival. Gammon had retired from the scene, in disgust and alarm, to his bedroom, some three hours before; but unable to sleep—not, however, with excess of wine, for he had drunk very little—had arisen about four o'clock, and was at that moment wandering slowly, with folded arms and downcast countenance, up and down the fine avenue of elm-trees, where, it may be recollected, Mr. Aubrey had spent a portion of the last evening of his stay at Yatton.
Such is my account of that memorable entertainment—and as fair an account as I know how to give of the matter; but it is curious to observe how very differently the same thing will strike different people. As soon as the grateful Mr. Centipede had recovered from the excitement occasioned by the part which he had borne in the splendid festival, he set to work, with the pen of a ready writer, and in the next number of the "Yorkshire Stingo," there appeared the following interesting account of the
"Festivities at Yatton Hall, on the occasion of POSSESSION being taken by Tittlebat Titmouse, Esquire
"Yesterday this interesting event came off with signal éclat. Notwithstanding the very unfavorable state of the weather, about five o'clock in the evening an imposing cavalcade, comprising many of the leading gentry and yeomanry of this part of the county, on foot and on horseback, preceded by an admirable band, and a large and splendid banner, bearing the inscription—'Welcome to Yatton,' went out to meet the above distinguished gentleman, whose cortège, in two carriages, made its appearance in the village about half-past five. The band immediately struck up 'See the Conquering Hero comes!' which inspiriting air, however, was nearly drowned in the shout which welcomed the new proprietor of the noble estate of Yatton. His carriage was of the most tasteful, splendid, and unique description, and attracted universal admiration. Mr. Titmouse repeatedly bowed through the carriage-windows, in graceful acknowledgment of the cordial welcome and congratulations with which he was received. He was dressed in a light blue surtout, with velvet collar, full black stock, and a rich velvet waistcoat of plaid pattern. His countenance is handsome and expressive, his eye penetrating, and his brow strongly indicative of thought. He appears to be little more than twenty-five years old; so that he has before him the prospect of a long and brilliant career of happiness and public usefulness. Tables were spread in all the chief apartments, groaning beneath the most costly viands. All the luxuries of the season were there; and the wines (which we believe were those of Mr. Aubrey) were of the first description. Grace was said by the exemplary vicar of Grilston, the Rev. Mr. Fleshpot; and the Rev. Mr. Mudflint returned thanks. Sir Harkaway Rotgut Wildfire (whose amiable lady and accomplished daughter were present) proposed the health of Mr. Titmouse in a brief, but manly and cordial address; and the manner in which Mr. Titmouse acknowledged the toast, which was drunk with the greatest possible enthusiasm—the simplicity, point, and fervor which characterized every word he uttered—were such as to excite lively emotion in all who heard it, and warrant the highest expectations of his success in Parliament. Nothing could be more touching than his brief allusions to the sufferings and privations which he had undergone—nothing more delicate and forbearing than the feeling which pervaded his momentary allusion to the late occupant of Yatton. When, however, he distinctly avowed his political principles as those of a dauntless champion of civil and religious liberty among all classes of his Majesty's subjects—the applause was long and enthusiastic. After dinner, the great hall was cleared for dancing, which was opened by Mr. Titmouse and Miss Wildfire; Lady Wildfire being led out by the Honorable [!] Mr. Yahoo, an intimate friend of Mr. Titmouse. We should not omit to mention that Miss Quirk (the only daughter of Caleb Quirk, Esq., the head of the distinguished firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, of London, to whose untiring and most able exertions is owing the happy change which has taken place in the ownership of the Yatton property) accompanied her father, at the earnest request of Mr. Titmouse, who danced several sets with her; and it is whispered—but we will not anticipate family arrangements. Sir [!] Algernon Fitz-Snooks, a distinguished fashionable, also accompanied Mr. Titmouse, and entered with great spirit into all the gayeties of the evening. The 'light fantastic toe' was kept 'tripping' till a late, or rather very early hour in the morning—when the old Hall was once more (for a time) surrendered to the repose and solitude from which it has been so suddenly and joyously aroused."
[In another part of the paper was contained an insulting paragraph, charging Mr. Aubrey with being a party to the "flagrant and iniquitous job," by which Sir Percival Pickering had been returned for the borough; and intimating pretty distinctly, that Mr. Aubrey had not gone without "a consideration" for his share in the nefarious transaction.]