“Dear Hope,—I trust the supper and ball, and Peter’s dancing, may be taken as final comfort; but I shall be glad when I see again Cha’s handwriting. I have not heard lately from any of the western relations, but indeed I seldom do unless when there is something to ask. I have no news as to Walter.
| DINNER WITH LANDSEER | 343 |
“I dined out once lately with Sir E. Landseer. He has been building, and, among other things, a dining-room, which he is decorating with panels of his own work—stag scenes, &c., in the oblong ones, and Highland cataracts in the uprights that balance them—all very beautiful, though unfinished. One day the plaster will be picked off the walls and sent to galleries, God knows where. The dinner was good, but very queer and conceited, a mixture of finery and the fast school. Marrow-bones and sausages, fried herrings and kidneys, vis-à-vis with turtle and Strasburg pâté. Beer and punch cross hands with champagne and Badminton cup. The only other plebeian was Swinton. We had Lords Abercorn, Ossulstone, Mandeville, and Ed. Russell, and they all called the knight ‘Lanny,’ and he called them ‘Ossy,’ ‘Many,’ ‘Ned,’ Abercorn only ‘Marquis’—I suppose he being the only one that pays. All dog, and horse, stag, and Queen for talk; utter boobies; awful eaters and drinkers; and when I left them at half-past ten, they were all starting for some place where a new American game of rackets is played by gaslight, Lanny and all. How they could play rackets with such loads of pie and beer I don’t conceive. It used to be hard morning work in my day.
“I fancy Russell is to bring in a Bill against the new English Sees, but not meddling with Ireland.”
