MUSIC AT SEA. BY MRS. ABDY. THE boats swiftly skimmed from the ship to the shore, Anon, they suspended their lay for awhile- A moral, to me, in the music there seemed, Our talents oft serve an excuse to convey Yet to blend them with duties we ever should aim, And the graceful attainments that decorate life, SIR MONK MOYLE.* BY J. LUMLEY SHAFTO. CHAPTER V. "The feet grow weary, and the hand IMMEDIATELY on their landing in Dublin, O'Sullivan accompanied the baronet and his grand-daughters to Gresham's hotel, which he had been in the habit of frequenting whenever his regimental duties called him to Ireland. Having seen his friends comfortably * Continued from p. 381, vol. xlviii. domiciled, and taken a dish of coffee with them, the captain departed to join his regiment, then quartered in the Irish metropolis, promising to pay them a visit on the following morning. But where is pretty Mistress Grace all this time? We would not willingly neglect her, for we have a sort of penchant for ladies' maids; they are mostly so quick-witted, every thing in their situation tending to make them sharp and intelligent, and besides, a lady's-maid may be occasionally made the vehicle for carrying a good deal of information to the reader, in her own original and peculiar way. To return, then, to our Abigail. She, good soul, after having been tongue-tied during the greater part of the voyage by that formidable foe to volubility, sea-sickness, at last found herself, to her unspeakable delight, comfortably seated, with her coffee and hot muffins before her, in a snug parlour of the Gresham hotel. But having eaten up all the muffins, (and she had been served with true Irish hospitality) and having all at once, as if by magic, found the use of her tongue again, the social creature longed, as was most natural, to make some one else acquainted with the recovery of that valuable little organ; and she now sallied forth in quest of an auditor. Proceeding at last, somewhat despairingly, towards her own bed-chamber, she there fortunately found one in a buxom good tempered chamber-maid, who was making the necessary arrangements for Mistress Grace's accomodation for the night. After a few introductory remarks about the tediousness of the passage across the channel, the threatened storm, and her own dreadful illness, which she pathetically described as being "so very bad, that she could neither eat nor talk," (quite tantamount, in Grace's estimation, to being in extremis) she now proceeded to indemnify herself for her long abstinence in the latter respect, as she had already done in the former. She first gave a slight sketch of Madoc Hall, then told, as fast as lip could utter, the whole history of Sir Monk Moyle and his family, dashed off to the life the characters she met with on board the packet, and retailed divers secrets which she had fished out of Mrs. Wertz, the waiting-maid of the baroness. Fortunately for Grace, Mrs. Wertz happened to be an Englishwoman who had travelled with a family to the baths of Baden, and there married a native of Germany; and shortly after her husband's death, which happened within about twelve months of their nuptials, she entered into the service of the baroness. When Grace had rattled over these various heads, with amazing rapidity, she at last declared, panting for breath, that "the horrid sea sickness had made her almost forget how to talk." At this juncture, she was summoned to attend her young ladies' toilette, and away she flew, down one staircase, up another, and along divers passages, to a new scene of action. "Well, Grace, how are you now?" inquired the too sisters at once, in a kind tone; for they had not learned, like too many fashionable young ladies, to treat a servant's illness more lightly than that of a pet lap-dog. "Oh, I'm much better than I was, thank you, mem! and thank you mem! Good la! I really thought I must have died: my head seems to swim still, when I think of it. I never was so il, that I remember, in all my life." "But sea-sickness, Grace, is neither very uncommon, nor very dangerous," said Miss Moyle; "you had many companions in your misery." "Dangerous or not, Mem, I don't think all the world will tempt me to cross the sea again, when once I get back to Madoc Hall. And yet, if I had not been so very ill, I could have enjoyed myself vastly with that foreign lady's waiting-maid, she was such a nice droll creature, and she told me such long stories about Germany, And what do you think, Mem? I know all about the Baroness Balderdash, and" "Balderbusch, you mean, Grace." "Yes, I suppose that's it, but these outlandish names are so hard to remember. Well, mem, as I was saying, she told me all about the baroness, and her husband, and how he was a clockmaker" "A clock-maker! nonsense, Grace." "Yes, indeed, mem! he was nothing but a clockmaker: and he made a lot of money, by making clocks for the Emperor of Austria, and the great people at court; and then he bought himself a title : for in Germany, any one may buy a title, Mrs. Wertz said." "So I have heard," said Miss Fanny. "Oh dear! yes, mem! and then Mrs. Wertz told me, after he bought the title, he bought an old crazy castle, as was a'most tumbling to the ground, quite ruinated like, some such a sort of a place as that we saw at Conway, I suppose. Ana then he went off in a fine coach, to Munich, and paid his addresses to the baroness, who was the daughter of a rich merchant, a Mr. Hard-egg-la! mem! isn't it a funny name?" 66 As ridiculous as the whole story, Grace." "Yes, mem! that it is!" responded the voluble waiting-maid, quite innocently, "Well! Mr. Hard-egg was a distant relation of the baron, and had dealt with him for many years, when he was a clock-maker. He used to sell clocks for him at Munich on commission, and made a deal of money himself, mem, in that and other ways: and by reason the baroness was his only child, she was a great fortune, and had a many lovers; and amongst them was a son of Professor Grunt-wigt-he! he !-and a nephew of old Doctor Guttle-bob-he! he he! Really, mem! those German names are so droll, I cannot help laughing." Gottlebob. "Some of them certainly sound rather ridiculously in our ears," (said Fanny, smiling, and addressing her sister,) "from the association of ideas connected with similar sounds in our own language: and no doubt many of our Welsh names, and English ones too, would seem equally absurd, from a similar cause, in the ears of the Germans." "Yes, my dear; I think some of our old primitive names, especially of places, would match anything to be met with, even in Germany," responded Miss Moyle. It had long been a habit with the little Abigail to communicate, to some one or other, everything she had heard during the day, before she slept. This was an account which she always kept very strictly balanced: and such was her scrupulous honesty in this respect, that she could not compose herself comfortably upon her pillow, unless it had been faithfully discharged. Her thoughts would still run for half the night upon the various unsettled items: but when these had been fairly got rid of before she retired to rest, she felt her mind at ease, and she went off to sleep, with the pleasing consciousness that she was at liberty to open a new account on the following morning. On the present occasion, Grace had already made considerable progress in assisting her young ladies to undress; and beginning now to be apprehensive that time would not suffice for getting rid of that immense budget of news which she had collected in the early part of her voyage to Dublin, before "that horrid sea-sickness," had disturbed her in her pleasing vocation, her hands now, involuntarily as it were, began to slacken their exertions a little, and her tongue went off again at double speed. "Well, mem! as I was saying:-young Mr. Grunt-wig and Mr. Guttle-bob were both of them mighty angry with the baron, for paying his addresses to Miss Hard-egg: for though both of them could not have had her, each thought he was sure to be the man. And they said as how she favoured the baron, just because he was a baron, and nothing else; for you see, mem! he was old enough to be her father. And so altogether there was a fine piece of work, that's certain and there had like to been a duel about it, if not two. Indeed, there would 'a been, if Mr. Hard-egg had not 'a gone to old Parson Easy-back,”*— (giggling again,)—" a most partic'lar friend of his, and he interfered, and prevented it; but he could not make them all friends together, no how at all. And so, mem, when the baron went to court in his fine coach, the two young gentlemen were in a terrible taking about it, because, you see, mem, neither of them had been there themselves: and they said he had no right to go neither, because he had been a clockmaker, a good deal longer than he had been a baron; which, you know, was true enough, mem!" * Eisenbach. "No, indeed, Grace; I dont know anything at all about it, except what you are now telling," said the younger Miss Moyle. "Well, mem; but it's quite true, though, I do assure you. But for all that; after the baron had been to court, almost all the great folks in Munich sent him invitations; and Miss Hard-egg accepted him as a lover, with her father's consent, and the two young men were both of them sent about their business. Well! at last, mem-Oh, dear! I had almost forgot. Amongst others, our ambassador, Sir Brook Taylor, invited the baron to a very grand party, where there was I don't know how many hundred great people. Only think, mem! La! only think!" pausing for a moment to recover her breath. "Well, Grace; there was nothing very wonderful in that." "But what do you think, mem? dealer!" "A what, Grace ?" "A horse-dealer, mem!" Our ambassador was a horse "That was rather wonderful, certainly," observed Miss Moyle; "if one could only believe it." "You foolish girl!" added her sister, "how can you make yourself so very ridiculous? I really wish you would learn to talk a little less, Grace. What should Mrs. Wertz know about our ambassador at the Bavarian court? And how can you be so silly as to suppose he would be a horse-dealer? Who ever heard of such a thing?" 'Indeed, but he was though, mem! I do assure you. For Mrs. Wertz was well acquainted with Cottle, the ambassador's coachman, being as how-they were both from the same neighbourhood, somewhere in Wiltshire; and had known each other when they were children. Cottle used to be often coming over to this country, to buy fine horses for his master; and then, by reason he was ambassador, they went to Bavary free of duty, so that common horse-dealers had not a fair chance. And then Sir Brook used to sell them at Munich, and make lots of money by them; and then he would send Cottle over again here, to buy more." "It is altogether a most improbable story," remarked Miss Moyle; "and I really don't believe it." "Well, mem! it's true though, every word of it. And at last it got to be known that horses were constantly brought from England without paying duty, and such like; and all to sell, and make money of them. And then, Mrs. Wertz says, there was a piece of work, somehow, about it, and it got into several of the German newspapers. Oh! I do so like Mrs. Wertz! She is such an amusing creature! But, let me see; I had nearly forgot all about the baron. Well, when he married Miss Hard-egg, there was such a grand wedding! Oh! I never heard of any thing like it in all my life!" |