Such Is Life Joseph Furphy (ebook reader screen .TXT) 📖

combination of circumstances, and in the second place, to some of my own little pranks. I am nephew to Sir Robert Brook, baronet, the present representative of the Brooks of Brookcotes, Dorsetshire⁠—a family, sir, dating from the fourteenth century. Possibly you have heard the name?”

“Often.”

“Not the Brookes of the King’s Elms, Hants, pray observe. The Brookes of the King’s Elms gained their enormous wealth as army contractors, during the struggle with Napoleon, and their baronetcy, Heaven knows how! The baronetcy of the Brooks of Brookcotes dates from 1615, at which time my maternal ancestor, Sir Roger Brook, knight, procured his patent by supplying thirty infantry for three years in the subjugation of Ireland. Independently of the title, our family is many centuries older than the other. We spell our name without⁠—”

“My (adj.) fambly come all the way down from the Hark,” observed Mosey, with a rudeness which reflected little credit on his ancient lineage.

“⁠—without the final e. There is a manifest breach of trust in creation of these new baronetcies. It was more than implied⁠—it was distinctly stipulated⁠—at the origination of the Order, by James I, that the number of baronets should not exceed two hundred, and that there should be no new creations to supply the place of such titles as might lapse through extinction of families.”

“And is there no remedy for this?” I asked.

“None whatever. Not that I am personally interested in the exclusiveness of the Order, my connection with the Brooks of Brookcotes being on the distaff side. My mother was Sir Robert’s only sister. My father was a military man⁠—3rd Buffs⁠—died when I was twelve or thirteen years of age. Sir Robert was a confirmed bachelor, and I was his only nephew. Now you see my position?”

“I think I do.”

“Four years ago, demme if Sir Robert didn’t marry a manufacturer’s daughter⁠—soap manufacturer⁠—and within two years there was a lineal heir to Brookcotes!”

“You don’t say so?”

“Fact, begad! Shortly afterward, I was detected⁠—ha-ha! Sua cuique voluptas⁠—in a liaison with a young person who resided with my uncle’s wife as a companion. Whereupon my lady used her influence with the demd old dotard, and I was cut off with a shilling. However, he gave me a saloon passage to Melbourne, with an order on his agent in that city for £500. My lady’s father also gave me letters of introduction to some friends in Sydney⁠—business people. Fact was, they wanted to get rid of me.”

“The £500 should have given you a fair start,” I suggested.

“Pardon me⁠—it is impossible for you to enter into the feelings of a man who has been brought up as presumptive heir to a rent-roll of £12,000. You cannot imagine how the mind of a gentleman shrinks from the petty details, the meanness, the vulgarities of trade. You are aware, I presume, that all avenues of ambition except the Church, the Army, and the Legislature, are closed to our class? You cannot imagine⁠—pardon my repeating it⁠—the exclusiveness, the fine sense of honour⁠—”

“Holy sailor!” I heard Thompson whisper to himself.

“⁠—which pervades the mind and controls the actions of a gentleman. As a casual illustration of what is amusingly, though somewhat provokingly, ignored here, you have, no doubt, observed that our gentlemen cricketers will acknowledge no fellowship with professionals, though they may belong to the same team, and be paid from the same funds. However, to proceed with a story which is, perhaps, not without interest. I left Melbourne before my pittance was exhausted, and presented my credentials in Sydney. Mr. Wilcox, a relation of my lady’s father, and a person of some local importance, treated me at first with consideration⁠—in fact, there was always a knife and fork for me at his table⁠—but I noticed, as time went on, a growing coolness on his part. I ought to mention that his sister, Mrs. Bradshaw⁠—a widow, fat, fair, and forty⁠—had considerable capital invested in his business; and I was paying my addresses to her, deeming my birth and education a sufficient counterpoise to her wealth. I’d have married her too, begad I would! At this time, Wilcox was establishing gelatine works; and he had the demd effron⁠—”

“What’s gelatine?” demanded Mosey. “I’ve of’en heard o’ the (adj.) stuff. What the (sheol) is it used in?”

“In commerce, principally, Mosey,” I replied.

“Neat, begad! As I was saying, Wilcox had the demd assurance to offer me a clerkship in his new establishment. We had a few words in consequence; and shortly afterward I left Sydney, and found my way here. Have you any acquaintance in Sydney⁠—may I ask?”

[A word of explanation. Being only an official of the ninth class, I received my appointment in Hay. On that occasion, I asked the magistrate who received my securities and otherwise attended to the matter⁠—I naturally asked him what chance I had for promotion. He told me that it would go strictly by seniority, but, as my immediate superior, the Assistant-Sub-Inspector, was not eligible for any higher grade⁠—never having passed any examination whatever⁠—and as I could not be advanced over his head, my only chance was to step into his place when he vacated it. Now, I knew he was not likely to resign, for he had a good salary all to himself, and nothing to do but refer me to the Central Office for orders. I knew in fact, that there was only one way in which he was likely to quit his niche in the edifice of the State. So I replied to Willoughby’s question]

“Well, I may say I have; and yet I’m not aware of anyone in Sydney that I would know by sight. My superior officer lives there. Remotely possible you may know him⁠—Rudolph Winterbottom, esquire.”

“Rudolph Winterbottom⁠—did you say? Yes, by Jove! rather a happy coincidence. I remember him well. I was introduced to him on a reception day at Government House, and met him frequently afterward; dined in his company, I think, on two occasions.”

“Is he a very old man?”

“No; the old gentleman is his father⁠—Thomas