Winter Trials (Northern Witch #1) by K.S. Marsden (librera reader .TXT) 📖

With the last section our correspondent concludes his most able and faithful Report, which will never cease to reflect credit upon him for his scientific attainments, and upon us for our enterprising spirit.  It is needless to take a review of the subjects which have been discussed; of the mode in which they have been examined; of the great truths which they have elicited.  They are now before the world, and we leave them to read, to consider, and to profit.

The place of meeting for next year has undergone discussion, and has at length been decided, regard being had to, and evidence being taken upon, the goodness of its wines, the supply of its markets, the hospitality of its inhabitants, and the quality of its hotels.  We hope at this next meeting our correspondent may again be present, and that we may be once more the means of placing his communications before the world.  Until that period we have been prevailed upon to allow this number of our Miscellany to be retailed to the public, or wholesaled to the trade, without any advance upon our usual price.

We have only to add, that the committees are now broken up, and that Mudfog is once again restored to its accustomed tranquillity,—that Professors and Members have had balls, and soirées, and suppers, and great mutual complimentations, and have at length dispersed to their several homes,—whither all good wishes and joys attend them, until next year!

Signed Boz.

In October last, we did ourselves the immortal credit of recording, at an enormous expense, and by dint of exertions unnpralleled in the history of periodical publication, the proceedings of the Mudfog Association for the Advancement of Everything, which in that month held its first great half-yearly meeting, to the wonder and delight of the whole empire.  We announced at the conclusion of that extraordinary and most remarkable Report, that when the Second Meeting of the Society should take place, we should be found again at our post, renewing our gigantic and spirited endeavours, and once more making the world ring with the accuracy, authenticity, immeasurable superiority, and intense remarkability of our account of its proceedings.  In redemption of this pledge, we caused to be despatched per steam to Oldcastle (at which place this second meeting of the Society was held on the 20th instant), the same superhumanly-endowed gentleman who furnished the former report, and who,—gifted by nature with transcendent abilities, and furnished by us with a body of assistants scarcely inferior to himself,—has forwarded a series of letters, which, for faithfulness of description, power of language, fervour of thought, happiness of expression, and importance of subject-matter, have no equal in the epistolary literature of any age or country.  We give this gentleman’s correspondence entire, and in the order in which it reached our office.

‘Saloon of Steamer, Thursday night, half-past eight.

‘When I left New Burlington Street this evening in the hackney cabriolet, number four thousand two hundred and eighty-five, I experienced sensations as novel as they were oppressive.  A sense of the importance of the task I had undertaken, a consciousness that I was leaving London, and, stranger still, going somewhere else, a feeling of loneliness and a sensation of jolting, quite bewildered my thoughts, and for a time rendered me even insensible to the presence of my carpet-bag and hat-box.  I shall ever feel grateful to the driver of a Blackwall omnibus who, by thrusting the pole of his vehicle through the small door of the cabriolet, awakened me from a tumult of imaginings that are wholly indescribable.  But of such materials is our imperfect nature composed!

‘I am happy to say that I am the first passenger on board, and shall thus be enabled to give you an account of all that happens in the order of its occurrence.  The chimney is smoking a good deal, and so are the crew; and the captain, I am informed, is very drunk in a little house upon deck, something like a black turnpike.  I should infer from all I hear that he has got the steam up.

‘You will readily guess with what feelings I have just made the discovery that my berth is in the same closet with those engaged by Professor Woodensconce, Mr. Slug, and Professor Grime.  Professor Woodensconce has taken the shelf above me, and Mr. Slug and Professor Grime the two shelves opposite.  Their luggage has already arrived.  On Mr. Slug’s bed is a long tin tube of about three inches in diameter, carefully closed at both ends.  What can this contain?  Some powerful instrument of a new construction, doubtless.’

‘Ten minutes past nine.

‘Nobody has yet arrived, nor has anything fresh come in my way except several joints of beef and mutton, from which I conclude that a good plain dinner has been provided for to-morrow.  There is a singular smell below, which gave me some uneasiness at first; but as the steward says it is always there, and never goes away, I am quite comfortable again.  I learn from this man that the different sections will be distributed at the Black Boy and Stomach-ache, and the Boot-jack and Countenance.  If this intelligence be true (and I have no reason to doubt it), your readers will draw such conclusions as their different opinions may suggest.

‘I write down these remarks as they occur to me, or as the facts come to my knowledge, in order that my first impressions may lose nothing of their original vividness.  I shall despatch them in small packets as opportunities arise.’

‘Half past nine.

‘Some dark object has just appeared upon the wharf.  I think it is a travelling carriage.’

‘A quarter to ten.

‘No, it isn’t.’

‘Half-past ten.

‘The passengers are pouring in every instant.  Four omnibuses full have just arrived upon the wharf, and all is bustle and activity.  The noise and confusion are very great.  Cloths are laid in the cabins, and the steward is placing blue plates—full of knobs of cheese at equal distances down the centre of the tables.  He drops a great many knobs; but, being used to it, picks them up again with great dexterity, and, after wiping them on his sleeve, throws them back into the plates.  He is a young man of exceedingly prepossessing appearance—either dirty or a mulatto, but I think the former.

‘An interesting old gentleman, who came to the wharf in an omnibus, has just quarrelled violently with the porters, and is staggering towards the vessel with a large trunk in his arms.  I trust and hope that he may reach it in safety; but the board he has to cross is narrow and slippery.  Was that a splash?  Gracious powers!

‘I have just returned from the deck.  The trunk is standing upon the extreme brink of the wharf, but the old gentleman is nowhere to be seen.  The watchman is not sure whether he went down or not, but promises to drag for him the first thing to-morrow morning.  May his humane efforts prove successful!

‘Professor Nogo has this moment arrived with his nightcap on under his hat.  He has ordered a glass of cold brandy and water, with a hard biscuit and a basin, and has gone straight to bed.  What can this mean?

‘The three other scientific gentlemen to whom I have already alluded have come on board, and have all tried their beds, with the exception of Professor Woodensconce, who sleeps in one of the top ones, and can’t get into it.  Mr. Slug, who sleeps in the other top one, is unable to get out of his, and is to have his supper handed up by a boy.  I have had the honour to introduce myself to these gentlemen, and we have amicably arranged the order in which we shall retire to rest; which it is necessary to agree upon, because, although the cabin is very comfortable, there is not room for more than one gentleman to be out of bed at a time, and even he must take his boots off in the passage.

‘As I anticipated, the knobs of cheese were provided for the passengers’ supper, and are now in course of consumption.  Your readers will be surprised to hear that Professor Woodensconce has abstained from cheese for eight years, although he takes butter in considerable quantities.  Professor Grime having lost several teeth, is unable, I observe, to eat his crusts without previously soaking them in his bottled porter.  How interesting are these peculiarities!’

‘Half-past eleven.

‘Professors Woodensconce and Grime, with a degree of good humour that delights us all, have just arranged to toss for a bottle of mulled port.  There has been some discussion whether the payment should be decided by the first toss or the best out of three.  Eventually the latter course has been determined on.  Deeply do I wish that both gentlemen could win; but that being impossible, I own that my personal aspirations (I speak as an individual, and do not compromise either you or your readers by this expression of feeling) are with Professor Woodensconce.  I