His nose was
shaped like the bill of a parrot; his face slightly pitted with
the small-pox, with a dry perpetual bloom on it, like a
frostbitten leaf in autumn. He had an eye of great quickness and
vivacity, with a drollery and lurking waggery of expression that
was irresistible. He was evidently the wit of the family, dealing
very much in sly jokes and innuendoes with the ladies, and making
infinite merriment by harping upon old themes, which,
unfortunately, my ignorance of the family chronicles did not
permit me to enjoy. It seemed to be his great delight during
supper to keep a young girl next to him in a continual agony of
stifled laughter, in spite of her awe of the reproving looks of
her mother, who sat opposite. Indeed, he was the idol of the
younger part of the company, who laughed at everything he said or
did and at every turn of his countenance. I could not wonder at
it; for be must have been a miracle of accomplishments in their
eyes. He could imitate Punch and Judy; make an old woman of his
hand, with the assistance of a burnt cork and
pocket-handkerchief; and cut an orange into such a ludicrous
caricature that the young folks were ready to die with laughing.
I was let briefly into his history by Frank Bracebridge.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316