Baboo Jabberjee, B.A. by F. Anstey (pocket ebook reader TXT) 📖

At last, weary of concealing my captured salmon any longer behind the small of my back, I was about to inform Mister Crum that he had Miss Louisa's permission to absent himself, when she broke the silence by informing me that, as the old familiar friend of both parties, I was to be the first to hear a piece of news—to wit, that Donald (Mister C.'s baptismal appellation) and she were just become the engaged couple!

I was so overcome by grief and indignation at her perfidious duplicity (since she had frequently encouraged me in my mockeries of her admirer's uncouthness and rusticity), that I stuck in the throat, and then flung the salmon violently across a boundary hedge into a yard of poultry.

"Madam," I said, "that fish was to have been laid at your feet as the visible pledge of my devotion. You have not only lost the gift of a splendid salmon, but have thrown away the heart of a well-educated native B.A. and Member of the Bar! And you have gained—hoity toity! What? Why, a Scotch Bun!"

But almost immediately I was taken by violent remorse for my presumption, and shed the tears of contrition, entreating forgiveness—nay, more, I scrambled through a hole in a very thorny hedge, and, recovering the salmon (which had not had time to become very severely henpecked), I begged them to accept it between them as a token of my esteem and good wishes, which they joyfully consented to do. I had expected that my worthy host and hostess would have shared my astounded disappointment on hearing of their daughter's engagement; but, on the contrary, they received the news with smiling complacency.

It appears that Mister Crum, though endowed with a somewhat sheepish and bucolical exterior, is of tip-top Scottish caste and lineage, and the landed proprietor.

I am not to deny the attractiveness of such qualities, though I had hitherto been under the Fool's Paradise of an impression that they would have infinitely preferred this humble self as a son-in-law.

However, I am now emerging from my doleful dumps, with the reflection that, after all, it is contrary to common-sense to drain the cup of misery to the dregs for so totally inadequate a cause as the ficklety of any feminine!

Mr Jabberjee is unavoidably compelled to return to town, thereby affording his Solicitor the inestimable benefit of his personal assistance. An apparent attempt to pack the Jury.

The Public will be astounded at the news (which came with the perfect novelty of a surprise upon this insignificant self) that I have ceased to be the cherished guest beneath the hired Scottish roof of Mister Leofric Allbutt-Innett and his bucksome lady.

It fell out after this fashion.

One fine September morning, when I was accoutring myself in order to go out and hunt the robert (N.B. a genuine local Scotticism for individuals belonging to the rabbit genius), there came to me my young friend Howard, who was to teach my young idea how to shoot, in great gloom, asking me if it would take me a prolonged period to pack up my impedimenta.

I replied that I could do the trick instantaneously, inquiring the reason for his question.

"Because," said he, "if I were you, I should have a wire requiring me to come up to London at once."

"From my solicitor?" I inquired. "Is he then desirous of consulting with me?"

My friend answered me that it was the one object of his present existence.

"In that case," said I, rather spiritedly, "let him come up here, since I am not a mountain that I should obey the becking call of any Mahomet. Moreover, I am impatient to achieve the destruction of some Scottish roberts."

"If you will take my advice," he said, "you will grant them a reprieve, and make a scarcity of yourself. There is a train for Glasgow which you can just catch. I wouldn't distress the Mater and Governor by any farewells, you know."

"But," I objected, "I am not even in receipt of any telegram. Nor can I possibly omit the etiquette of a ceremonious leave-taking with your honourable parents."

"Just as you please," replied he. "Just now the Governor and Mater are in the front sitting-room, engaged in perusing the back numbers of your precious 'Jossers and Tidlers' or whatever you call 'em, which have been thoughtfully forwarded by a relative. I don't think I'd disturb them."

"Are they so hugely interested in the performances of my unassuming penna?" I cried, with the gratified simpering of a flattered.

"It looked like it when I left the room," said he; "the Mater was very near rolling on the oilcloth, and the Governor dancing and foaming from his mouth. What an awfully old ass you have been, Jab, to go and blurt out everything in print—about your breach of promise case, and getting to know us, and—worst of all—being merely a bogey prince. Naturally, we don't care about being made to look fools. The dear old Mater, you know, is one of those simple, trusting natures that, if they once discover they have been taken in by a sham title, why, they kick up the row of a deuce! And, as for the Governor, he's the sort of old retiring chap that has a downright loathing of publicity, when it makes him ridiculous. If he came across you just now, there's really no saying what he mightn't do. He's such a devilishly hot-tempered old boy!"

I did not comprehend the reasons for such exuberant anger, but, of course, young Howard insisted so urgently on physical dangers to myself if I delayed, that I hastened stealthily to my room by a backstair, and flinging my paraphernalia with incredible despatch into a portmanteau, was so fortunate as to convey it out of the house without attracting the invidious attention of my host and hostess, who were probably still occupied in foaming and rolling upon the carpet like angry waves of the sea.

Young Howard accompanied me to the station, though blaming me as the cause of his embroilment with his progenitors, who, it seems, had insisted—quite unjustly—that he must have known from the first that my nobility was merely a brevet rank; and Miss Wee-Wee bade me farewell with a soft and perfectly ladylike cordiality, being too grieved by my departure to make any allusion to the head and front of my offending.

Now I am once more in London, paying daily visits of several hours to the office of my solicitor, in order to assist him in the preparation of my brief.

"BABOO CHUCKERBUTTY RAM."

The other day, Baboo Jalpanybhoy and Baboo Chuckerbutty Ram attended for the purpose of arranging their evidence, when I regret to say the former made a rather paltry exhibition of himself, being declared by Mr Smartle himself to be totally incompetent to prove anything whatever material to the case, and I am therefore resolved to refuse him admission to the witness-box.

I am more hopeful of Mr Chuckerbutty Ram, who, I think, after diligent coaching from myself, may be induced to restrain his natural garrulity, and speak no more than is set down for him, which is simply that I have already, in his presence, contracted matrimony with a juvenile native, and that the laws of my country entitle me to marry several more.

This is in support of one of my most subtle pleadings of defence, to wit, that I have already offered to marry the plaintiff according to my country's laws, but that she did definitely decline such a marriage as polygamous (which it is indubitably liable to become at any moment), consequently, that my said contract is nilled by mutual consent.

Mr Smartle was of the opinion that the plaintiff's solicitors would move to strike out such a pleading as bad in law, since it is no defence to an action for breach of promise that the defendant is already the Benedick. Fortunately they have omitted to do this, and I anticipate exciting excessive admiration in Court by the ingenuity of my arguments from Analogy, Common Sense, Roman Law, &c.

My said solicitor has also communicated with Hon'ble Sir Chetwynd Cummerbund, to inquire if he would consent to appear as a witness to my dependent filial condition, and entire lack of the sinews of war; which, with fatherly kindness, he has agreed to do, and, as he rather humorously puts it, convince the jury that I am the good riddance of bad rubbish.

Now the decks are cleaned for action, and all is ready for the forensic logomachy as soon as it may please Providence and some associate in the Queen's Bench Division to place the suit of Mankletow v. Jabberjee in the list of causes for the day.

My solicitor's advice, which I shall very probably adopt, is to keep as close as possible to the issues, and more especially to the point that, if I gave any promise to marry at all, it was extorted from me by threats of bodily violence which reduced me to a blue funkiness.

Also he recommends that I am not to attempt any golden-mouthed eloquence, thereby making the lamentable exhibit of a most stupendous ignorance of human nature!

For what can melt the stony hearts of men, causing them to bellow like an ox and become tender as chickens, or what can rouse them to Indignation, Approval, Contempt, Wonderment, and every other known sentiment as required, so effectively as the trumpeting tongue of oratorical eloquence!

All I can aver is that, if I am not to be permitted to draw the glittering sword of my tongue from the scabbard of my mouth, I shall infallibly, in sheer sickishness at such short-sighted folly, throw up my brief!

I must not omit to say that if any of my fellow-colleagues on this periodical (of course including Hon'ble Editor) should be anxious to become eye-witnesses of my forensic début, I shall be overjoyed to procure their admission and will instruct the Usher that they are to be awarded the seats of honour. Perhaps it might even be feasible for two or three of them to obtain appointments as jurymen.

If so, let them not turn the deaf ear to the gentle wheezings of their esprit de corps, but remember that it is not the custom for one eagle to peck another in his optics.

[Pg 225] XXVIII

Mankletow v. Jabberjee. Notes taken by Mr Jabberjee in Court during the proceedings.

Queen's Bench Court, No. ——,    10.20 a.m.

The eventful morn of my trial for Breach of Promise has at length arrived, and I am resolved to jot down on the exterior of my brief such tittles as take place. I have taken my seat in Court on one of the benches reserved for long-robed juniors; in my immediate rear being my solicitor, Sidney Smartle, Esq., who will officiate as my Remembrancer and Friend in Need.

"FRESH AS A DAISY, AND FINE AS A CARROT FRESH SCRAPED."

In the Great Hall below I had the pleasure to encounter Miss Jessimina and that worthy Madam her Mamma, being prepared to greet them with effusive kindness, and assure them I was only a hostile in my professional capacity. Whether they were struck with awe by the unaccustomed majesty of my appearance in brand-new wig, bands, &c., in which I am fresh as a daisy, and fine as a carrot fresh scraped, or whether they simply did not recognise me in the disguisement of such toggeries, I am not to decide—but they passed by without responding visibly to my salutations.

10.25.—A stout, large Q.C., with luxuriant cheek-whiskers has just entered the row in front. Mister Smartle whispers to me that this is Witherington, whom I refused to engage, and who is now in opposition.

I have taken the undue liberty to pluck him by the sleeve and introduce myself in straightforward English style to his honourable notice, acquainting him that his unfortunate client had a very flimsy case, and was not deserving of success, while myself was a meritorious Native Neophyte, whose entire fortune was impaled on a stake, and urging him not to show too windy a temper to such a shorn lamb as his petitioner.

However, he has declined rather peremptorily to lend me his ears, nor can I induce his learned