the book of snobs- 第9部分

old　gouty　fingers；　still　writes　a　schoolboy　hand。　　He　has

reached　old　age　and　grey　hairs　without　being　the　least

venerable。　　He　dresses　like　an　outrageously　young　man　to

the　present　moment；　and　laces　and　pads　his　old　carcass　as

if　he　were　still　handsome　George　Tufto　of　1800。　　He　is

selfish；　brutal；　passionate；　and　a　glutton。　　It　is

curious　to　mark　him　at　table；　and　see　him　heaving　in　his

waistband；　his　little　bloodshot　eyes　goating　over　his

meal。　　He　swears　considerably　in　his　talk；　and　tells

filthy　garrison　stories　after　dinner。　　On　account　of　his

rank　and　his　services；　people　pay　the　bestarred　and

betitled　old　brute　a　sort　of　reverence；　and　he　looks　down

upon　you　and　me；　and　exhibits　his　contempt　for　us；　with　a

stupid　and　artless　candour　which　is　quite　amusing　to

watch。　　Perhaps；　had　he　been　bred　to　another　profession；

he　would　not　have　been　the　disreputable　old　creature　he

now　is。　　But　what　other？　　He　was　fit　for　none；　too

incorrigibly　idle　and　dull　for　any　trade　but　this；　in

which　he　has　distinguished　himself　publicly　as　a　good　and

gallant　officer；　and　privately　for　riding　races；　drinking

port；　fighting　duels；　and　seducing　women。　　He　believes

himself　to　be　one　of　the　most　honourable　and　deserving

beings　in　the　world。　　About　Waterloo　Place；　of

afternoons；　you　may　see　him　tottering　in　his　varnished

boots；　and　leering　under　the　bonnets　of　the　women　who

pass　by。　　When　he　dies　of　apoplexy；　THE　TIMES　will　have　a

quarter　of　a　column　about　his　services　and　battlesfour

lines　of　print　will　be　wanted　to　describe　his　titles　and

orders　aloneand　the　earth　will　cover　one　of　the

wickedest　and　dullest　old　wretches　that　ever　strutted

over　it。



Lest　it　should　be　imagined　that　I　am　of　so　obstinate　a

misanthropic　nature　as　to　be　satisfied　with　nothing；　I

beg　（for　the　comfort　of　the　forces）　to　state　my　belief

that　the　army　is　not　composed　of　such　persons　as　the

above。　　He　has　only　been　selected　for　the　study　of

civilians　and　the　military；　as　a　specimen　of　a　prosperous

and　bloated　Army　Snob。　　No：　when　epaulets　are　not　sold；

when　corporal　punishments　are　abolished；　and　Corporal

Smith　has　a　chance　to　have　his　gallantry　rewarded　as　well

as　that　of　Lieutenant　Grig；　when　there　is　no　such　rank　as

ensign　and　lieutenant　（the　existence　of　which　rank　is　an

absurd　anomaly；　and　an　insult　upon　all　the　rest　of　the

army）；　and　should　there　be　no　war；　I　should　not　be

disinclined　to　be　a　major…general　myself。



I　have　a　little　sheaf　of　Army　Snobs　in　my　portfolio；　but

shall　pause　in　my　attack　upon　the　forces　till　next　week。







CHAPTER　X



MILITARY　SNOBS



Walking　in　the　Park　yesterday　with　my　young　friend　Tagg；

and　discoursing　with　him　upon　the　next　number　of　the

Snob；　at　the　very　nick　of　time　who　should　pass　us　but　two

very　good　specimens　of　Military　Snobs；　the　Sporting

Military　Snob；　Capt。　Rag；　and　the　'lurking'　or　raffish

Military　Snob；　Ensign　Famish。　　Indeed　you　are　fully　sure

to　meet　them　lounging　on　horseback；　about　five　o'clock；

under　the　trees　by　the　Serpentine；　examining　critically

the　inmates　of　the　flashy　broughams　which　parade　up　and

down　'the　Lady's　Mile。'



Tagg　and　Rag　are　very　well　acquainted；　and　so　the　former；

with　that　candour　inseparable　from　intimate　friendship；

told　me　his　dear　friend's　history。　　Captain　Rag　is　a

small　dapper　north…country　man。　　He　went　when　quite　a　boy

into　a　crack　light　cavalry　regiment；　and　by　the　time　he

got　his　troop；　had　cheated　all　his　brother　officers　so

completely；　selling　them　lame　horses　for　sound　ones；　and

winning　their　money　by　all　manner　of　strange　and

ingenious　contrivances；　that　his　Colonel　advised　him　to

retire；　which　he　did　without　much　reluctance；

accommodating　a　youngster；　who　had　just　entered　the

regiment；　with　a　glaudered　charger　at　an　uncommonly　stiff

figure。



He　has　since　devoted　his　time　to　billiards；　steeple…

chasing；　and　the　turf。　　His　head…quarters　are　'Rummer's；'

in　Conduit　Street；　where　he　keeps　his　kit；　but　he　is　ever

on　the　move　in　the　exercise　of　his　vocation　as　a

gentleman…jockey　and　gentleman…leg。



According　to　BELL'S　LIFE；　he　is　an　invariable　attendant

at　all　races；　and　an　actor　in　most　of　them。　　He　rode　the

winner　at　Leamington；　he　was　left　for　dead　in　a　ditch　a

fortnight　ago　at　Harrow；　and　yet　there　he　was；　last　week；

at　the　Croix　de　Berny；　pale　and　determined　as　ever；

astonishing　the　BADAUDS　of　Paris　by　the　elegance　of　his

seat　and　the　neatness　of　his　rig；　as　he　took　a

preliminary　gallop　on　that　vicious　brute　'The　Disowned；'

before　starting　for　'the　French　Grand　National。'



He　is　a　regular　attendant　at　the　Corner；　where　he

compiles　a　limited　but　comfortable　libretto。　　During

season　he　rides　often　in　the　Park；　mounted　on　a　clever

well…bred　pony。　　He　is　to　be　seen　escorting　celebrated

horsewoman；　Fanny　Highflyer；　or　in　confidential　converse

with　Lord　Thimblerig；　the　eminent　handicapper。



He　carefully　avoids　decent　society；　and　would　rather　dine

off　a　steak　at　the　'One　Tun'　with　Sam　Snaffle　the　jockey；

Captain　O'Rourke；　and　two　or　three　other　notorious　turf

robbers；　than　with　the　choicest　company　in　London。　　He

likes　to　announce　at　'Rummer's'　that　he　is　going　to　run

down　and　spend　his　Saturday　and　Sunday　in　a　friendly　way

with　Hocus；　the　leg；　at　his　little　box　near　Epsom；　where；

if　report　speak　true；　many　'rummish　plants'　are

concocted。



He　does　not　play　billiards　often；　and　never　in　public：

but　when　he　does　play；　he　always　contrives　to　get　hold　of

a　good　flat；　and　never　leaves　him　till　he　has　done　him

uncommonly　brown。　　He　has　lately　been　playing　a　good　deal

with　Famish。



When　he　makes　his　appearance　in　the　drawing…room；　which

occasionally　happens　at　a　hunt…meeting　or　a　race…ball；　he

enjoys　himself　extremely。



His　young　friend　is　Ensign　Famish；　who　is　not　a　little

pleased　to　be　seen　with　such　　　　a　smart　fellow　as　Rag；

who　bows　to　the　best　turf　company　in　the　Park。　　Rag　lets

Famish　accompany　him　to　Tattersall's；　and　sells　him

bargains　in　horse…flesh；　and　uses　Famish's　cab。　　That

young　gentleman's　regiment　is　in　India；　and　he　is　at　home

on　sick　leave。　　He　recruits　his　health　by　being

intoxicated　every　night；　and　fortifies　his　lungs；　which

are　weak；　by　smoking　cigars　all　day。　　　The　policemen

about　the　Haymarket　know　the　little　creature；　and　the

early　cabmen　salute　him。　　The　closed　doors　of　fish　and

lobster　shops　open　after　service；　and　vomit　out　little

Famish；　who　is　either　tipsy　and　quarrelsomewhen　he

wants　to　fight　the　cabmen；　or　drunk　and　helplesswhen

some　kind　friend　（in　yellow　satin）　takes　care　of　him。

All　the　neighbourhood；　the　cabmen；　the　police；　the　early

potato…men；　and　the　friends　in　yellow　satin；　know　the

young　fellow；　and　he　is　called　Little　Bobby　by　some　of

the　very　worst　reprobates　in　Europe。



His　mother；　Lady　Fanny　Famish；　believes　devoutly　that

Robert　is　in　London　solely　for　the　benefit　of　consulting

the　physician；　is　going　to　have　him　exchanged　into　a

dragoon　regiment；　which　doesn't　go　to　that　odious　India；

and　has　an　idea　that　his　chest　is　delicate；　and　that　he

takes　gruel　every　evening；　when　he　puts　his　feet　in　hot

water。　　Her　Ladyship　resides　at　Cheltenham；　and　is　of　a

serious　turn。



Bobby　frequents　the　'Union　Jack　Club'　of　course；　where　he

breakfasts　on　pale　ale　and　devilled　kidneys　at　three

o'clock；　where　beardless　young　heroes　of　his　own　sort

congregate；　and　make　merry；　and　give　each　other　dinners；

where　you　may　see　half…a…dozen　of　young　rakes　of　the

fourth　or　fifth　order　lounging　and　smoking　on　the　steps；

where　you　behold　Slapper's　long…tailed　leggy　mare　in　the

custody　of　a　red…jacket　until　the　Captain　is　primed　for

the　Park　with　a　glass　of　curacoa；　and　where　you　see

Hobby；　of　the　Highland　Buffs；　driving　up　with　Dobby；　of

the　Madras　Fusiliers；　in　the　great　banging；　swinging　cab；

which　the　latter　hires　from　Rumble　of　Bond　Street。



In　fact；　Military　Snobs　are　of　such　number　and　variety；

that　a　hundred　weeks　of　PUNCH　would　not　suffice　to　give

an　audience　to　them。　　There　is；　besides　the　disreputable

old　Military　Snob；　who　has　seen　service；　the　respectable

old　Military　Snob；　who　has　seen　none；　and　gives　himself

the　most　prodigious　Martinet　airs。　　There　is　the　Medical…

Military　Snob；　who　is　generally　more　outrageously

military　in　his　conversation　than　the　greatest　SABREUR　in

the　army。　　There　is　the　Heavy…Dragoon　Snob；　whom　young

ladies；　admire　with　his　great　stupid　pink　face　and　yellow

moustachesa　vacuous；　solemn；　foolish；　but　brave　and

honourable　Snob。　　There　is　the　Amateur…Military　Snob　who

writes　Captain　on　his　card　because　he　is　a　Lieutenant　in

the　Bungay　Militia。　　There　is　the　Lady…killing　Military

Snob；　and　more；　who　need　not　be　named。



But　let　no　man；　we　repeat；　charge　MR。　PUNCH　with

disrespect　for　the　Army　in　generalthat　gallant　and

judicious　Army；　every　man　of　which；　from　F。M。　the　Duke　of

Wellington；　&c。；　downwards（with　the　exception　of　H。R。H。

Field…Marshal　Prince　Albert；　who；　however；　can　hardly

count　as　a　military　man；）reads　PUNCH　in　every　quarter

of　the　globe。



Let　those　civilians　who　sneer　at　the　acquirements　of　the

army　read　Sir　Harry　Smith's　account　of　the　Battle　of

Aliwal。　　A　noble　deed　was　never　told　in　nobler　language。

And　you　who　doubt　if　chivalry　exists；　or　the　age　of

heroism　has　passed　by；　think　of　Sir　Henry　Hardinge；　with

his　son；　'dear　little　Arthur；'　riding　in　front　of　the

lines　at　Ferozeshah。　　I　hope　no　English　painter　will

endeavour　to　illustrate　that　scene；　for　who　is　there　to

do　justice　to　it？　　The　history　of　the　world　contains　no

more　brilliant　and　heroic　picture。　　No；　no；　the　men　who

perform　these　deeds　with　such　brilliant　valour；　and

describe　them　with　such　modest　manlinessSUCH　are　not

Snobs。　　Their　country　admires　them；　their　Sovereign

rewards　them；　and　PUNCH；　the　universal　railer；　takes　off

his　hat　and；　says；　Heaven　save　them！







CHAPTER　XI