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Wire: Mind Hive — an ominous mood of encroaching disaster

publish 2022-05-02,browse 6
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a cabriolet hurries past him still more rapidly, bearing a fashionable physician, on the fret at having been summoned prematurely from the comforts of a second sleep in a voluptuous chamber, on an experimental visit to raise the weak head, and stay the parting sigh, or with new life relume the swimming eye. at the corners of streets of traffic, and more especially where famd st. giless ancient limits spread, the matutinal huckster may be seen administering to costermongers, hackney-coachmen, and fair women without discretion, a fluid all hot, all hot, ycleped by the initiated elder wine, which, we should think, might give the partakers a tolerable notion of the fermenting beverage extracted by tartars from mares milk not particularly fresh. hard by we find a decent matron super-intending her tea-table at the lamp-post, and tendering to a remarkably select company little, blue, delft cups of bohea, filled from time to time from a prodigious kettle, that simmers unceasingly on its charcoal tripod, though the refractory cad often protests that the fuel fails before the boiling stage is consummated by an ebullition. hither approaches perhaps an interesting youth from magherastaphena, who, ere night-fall, is destined to figure in some police-office as a juvenile delinquent. the shivering sweep, who has just travelled through half a dozen stacks of chimneys, also quickens every motion of his weary little limbs, when he comes within sight of the destined breakfast, and beholds the reversionary heel of a loaf and roll of butter awaiting his arrival. another unfailing visiter is the market-gardener, on his way to deposit before the covent garden piazza such a pyramid of cabbages as might well have been manured in the soil with master jacks justly celebrated bean-stalk. surely solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. the female portion of such assemblages, for the most part, consists of poor salopian strawberry-carriers, many of whom have walked already at least four miles, with a troublesome burden, and for a miserable pittanceegg-women, with sundry still-born chickens, goslings, and turkey-poutsand passing milk-maidens, peripatetic under the yoke of their double pail. their professional cry is singular and sufficiently unintelligible, although perhaps not so much so as that of the dublin milk-venders in the days of swift; it used to run thus, mugs, jugs, and porringers, up in the garret and down in the cellar. they are in general a hale, comely, well-favoured race, notwithstanding the assertion of the author of trivia to the contrary.[5] [5] on doors the sallow milk maid chalks her gains. oh! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains! the most revolting spectacle to any one of sensibility which usually presents itself about this hour, is the painful progress of the jaded, foundered, and terrified droves of cattle that one necessarily must see not unfrequently struggling on to the appointed slaughter-house, perhaps after three days during which they have been running their course of suffering in the public way. on such occasions we have often wished ourselves far from the sight of city, spire, or sound of minster clock. one feels most for the sheep and lambs, when the softened fancy recurs to the streams and hedgerows, and pleasant pastures, from whence the woolly exiles have been ejected; and yet the emotion of pity isnot wholly unaccompanied by admiration at the sagacity of the canine disciplinarians that bay them remorselessly forward, and sternly refuse the stragglers permission to make a reconnoissance on the road. they are highly respectable members of society these same sheep-dogs, and we wish we could say as much for the curs of low degree, that just at the same hour begin to prowl up and down st. giless, and to and fro in it, seeking what they may devour, with the fear of the alderman of cripplegate within before their eyes. the feline kind, however, have reason to think themselves in more danger at the first round of the watering cart, for we have often rescued an unsuspicious tortoise-shell from the felonious designs of a skin-dealer, who was about to lay violent hands on unoffending puss, while she was watching the process of making bread through the crevices of a scotch grating.[6] [6] they say that no town in europe is without a scotchman for an inhabitant. this trade in london is generally professed by north britons, and it is always a cause of alarm to a stranger if he notices the enormous column of black smoke which is emitted from their premises at the dawn, of the morning. another animal _sui generis_, occasionally visible about the same cock-crowing season, is the parliamentary reporter, shuffling to roost, and a more slovenly-looking operative from sunrise to sunset is rarely to be seen. there has probably been a double debate, and between three and five oclock he has written a column _bould_. no one can well mistake him. the features are often irish, the gait jaunty or resolutely brisk, but neither buxom, blithe, nor debonnair, complexion wan, expression pensive, and the entire propriety of the toilette disarranged and _degagée_. the stuff that he has perpetrated is happily no longer present to his memory, and neither placemans sophistry nor patriots rant will be likely in any way to interfere with his repose. intense fatigue, whether intellectual or manual, however, is not the best security for sound slumber at any hour, more particularly in the morning. even at this hour the swart savoyard (_filius nullius_) issues forth on his diurnal pilgrimage, remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow, to excruciate on his superannuated hurdy-gurdy that sublime melody, the hundred and seventh psalm, or the plaintive sweetness of isabel, perhaps speculating on a breakfast for himself and pug, somewhere between knightsbridge and old brentford. poor fellow! could he procure a few bones of mutton, how hard would it be for his hungry comprehension to understand the displeasure which similar objects occasioned to attila on the plains of champagne! then the too frequent preparations for a newgate executionbut enough of such details; it is the muse of mr. crabbe that alone could do them justice. we would say to the great city, in the benedictory spirit of the patriot of venice,_esto perpetua!_ notwithstanding thy manifold honest knaveries, peace be within thy walls, and plenty pervade thy palaces, that thou mayest ever approve thyself, oh queen of capitals, like samsons riddle in the sacred song, a springing sweet still flowing from the strong! _blackwoods magazine_. the sketch-book. scottish sporting. _from the letters of two sportsmen; with recollections of the ettrick shepherd._ (_for the mirror_.) after visiting thoms, the sculptor, burnss cottage, halloway kirk, monument, &c., in ayrshire, we toddled on over to dumfries, and had a _crack_ with poor rabbie burnss widow, not forgetting mcdiarmid the author; thence to moffat, and up that dismal glen, the pass of moffat, to the grey mares tail, a waterfall, so called from its resembling the silvery tail of a grey mare; and truly, if the simile were extended into infinitude, which from its sublimity it would admit of, we might compare its waving, silky stream swinging over the broad face of its lofty grey rock, to the tail of the pale horse of revelation, over the chaos of time. it was a sombre, solemn sort of a day, and the dense clouds hung curtaining down the mountain sides, like our living pall as it werei scarcely know howbut we felt dismally until we took a dram and got into a perspiration, with tugging up the sinuosities of the cliffs, to the summit of the waterfall. loch skein, where we were galvanized, electrified, magnetized, and petrified, all at once, by the quackery, clackery, flappery, quatter, splatter, clatter, scatter, and dash-de-blash, and squash, of a flock of wild ducks, on its reedy, flaggy surface; o, what a _scutter_ was there! our hearts, too full, leapt into our mouths, but our guns were turned into tons of lead, and ere we could heave them up to our shoulders of clay, the thousand had fled into the eternal grey mist of the mountain, like the dispersion of a confused dream. there we stood like two sumphs, (as hogg calls those who are ganging a bit aglee in their wits) gaping and staring at each other with a look which said, why did not _you_ shoot? our dogs too stood as stiff as two pumps, with tails standing out like the handles! _apropos_talking of hogg, the poet, we called to see him in his half-acre island in eltrive lake, and truly we met with that burning hot reception which we had anticipated from _blackwoods magazine_ description of him. we had no _notes of introduction_ except the notes which our guns pricked upon the echoes of ettric forest, and which james hogg heard and answered with a view-hallo, for us to come awa doon the brae an tak a dram ospeerits, and so we did, and in true highland style; he met us at the door and gave us a drain from the bottle, first gulping a glass himself of that double-strong like & fire-eater, without a twink of the eye or a wince of the mouth; and then with a grip o the daddle, which made the fingers crack, he pulled us into his bonnie wee bit shooting box of a house, with a come awa ben yell be the better o a bite o venison pasty; so in we went, and were introduced to his bonnie wife and sousy barnes, which latter, jammie hogg nursed as though he lovd em frae the uttermost ends o his sowl. campbell has it against byron, that the poetic temperament is incompatible with matrimonial felicity. fudge, fudge, mr. campbell, did you ever visit james hogg? well, we sat down to take a snack with james and an extraordinary monkey of his, which he has dressed in the garb of a highland soldier, and which too, sat down at table, and played his knife and fork like a true epicure. an extrornry crater is that wee heelan-man o mine, gentlemen, he can conduc himsel as weels ony christan man at table, and aft when im pennin a bit rhyme thegither, the craterll lowp up ith chair anent me and tak up a pen, in exac emeetation o me, and keck into my een in his cunnin way, as if he was speering me what to write aboot; he surely maun ha a feck o thocht in his heed if are could gar him spak it; but ye ken his horsemanship beats a. i had a spire-haired collie, a breed atween a heelan lurcher, a grew, and a wolf, dog, a meety, muckle collie he is for sureweel, gentlemen, do ye ken, he a rides on him when we hoont the tod (fox), an to see him girt a screep o red flannin on for a saddle, that the neer-do-weel toor fra a beggar-wifes tattered duds ane day; an then to see him lowp on like a mountebank, and sit skreighin an chatrin, an cronkin like a paddock on a clud oyearth. o, its a lachin teeklesome sicht for surean then heel thud, thud, thud his wee bit neive ith shouther oth collie, an steek his toes in his side, just for a the world like a newmarket jockey, an then heel turn him roon behint-afore an play treeks, till collie gerns at him; an then beway o makin friens again, heel streek an pat him, an peek the ferlie oot o his hurdles; an then when were a ready for gannin awa, to be sure what a dirdum an stramash do they twa keek up; an then aff they flee like the deevil in a gale o wind, an are oot o sicht before ye can say owr the border an far awa. but i ha just been speerin the forester aboot the tod (fox), an he gars me gang owr the muir to ettric forest, an leuk in a cleuch in a rock there is there, an i shall find the half-peckit banes o a joop o mine that strayd yestreen. so, gentlemen, if yer fond o oor kin o sportin, ye shall hae such a sicht o rinnin an ridin as ye neer saw heretofore we your twa een. we readily accepted the invite, and off we set in company with the ettric shepherd and his monkey, and certainly it was a _teeklesome sicht_ to see him mounted on the long, lank, wire-haired, shaggy wolf-dog-grew-lurcher, while he in play was scouring round and round the wild and barren moor; away and away as swift as the wind, over brae and bourn and bog they went, like a red petticoated witch on a besom, flying in the storm. on our way we fell in with the foresters, who were going a deer-stalking; they had a buck to kill for the duke, so we joined company, and gave that satisfactory shrug of the shoulders, with the expectation of sport, that a spider would feel while sitting in the corner of a hollow nut-shell, and seeing his victim already entangled in his web, while he was whetting his appetite with suspended hope, in dream of anticipated fattenings

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