The Abbeville banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1847-1869, 1857-09-24
STYLE OF LIFE AMONG THE LITERARY MEN
OF LONDON

The ,Gght.
STYLE OF LIFE AMONG THE LITERARY MEN
OF LONDON
Descending the steps Which led from the
plaza in Covcnt Garden, we entered Evans. ,
that "abode Of supper and song" as it was
poetlcaly called by its enthusiastic proprc-
tor, who, meeting us us strangers to do the
honors Of his establishment, and having Of.
fered us prelimnarily, with the well bred
air of an old courlier, pihch of scented
snuff from his golden box, led lis through a
long avenue of supper tables and rcsolutelv
happy fellows, to the highest scat of the
great subtcrranean hall. There was much
to be seen and admired by the way, if we
trust our polite host, WHO had, apparently,
all the masterpieces Of the English school
hanging from his expensive walls.
There was the Garrick by Reynolds, "al,
undoubted original Mrs. Siddons
dItto,-thc genuine John KemLle by Law
rencc-thc Mrs Jordon, and all the pretty
Pollys and Dollys, the gentleman Johns
light comedy Jacks, of the theatrical celel:
rty and coffee house notcriety; and there
was Johnson, and the delightful, blunderinc
Goldsmith, paipted to the life; but there
was lhackeray, under the counterfeit pre-
sentiment, but in life itself, putting, drinking
and encorlng, as life alone can puff, drink
and encore, in genuine cAiaro oscuro of
smoke and tobacco, and mist of hot ybis-
key, through Which his great round, ruddy
face was shining like a full, red, tropical
moon. The comic gentleman having sung
his last stave.
$50 sing and be merry, for times on the wing.
Who knows what tomorrow for many may
brng?'
the curtain being dropped, and the last
drop OF punch drained, we rise simultane-
ously with Thackeray, who has been seated
at the next table just in front of the stage.
Awaiting ourselves of thu privilege Of stran-
gers, we watch his great towering figure
striding through the crowd of table sitters
until he takes his seat in distant corner
where lie is heartily received with a hail
fellow, and renewed calls for punch, ly
three other evidently kindred souls.
Hy tile aid Of our host, stimulated by
Yankee curiosity, we were not long in
doubt about the company. Tie large i'm
posing looking gentleman who first fill, our
eyes IS some one, it matters not who. The
second one is Mowbray Morris, snug, busi-
ness like man, the general manager of the
Times; and that little fellow there, with
the sharp eagle. face, and long, ~hite hair,
all pushed back from the forehead. who
seems to do all the talking, and full share
OF the drinking into the bargain, is Douglas
Jerrold. Lie is evidently under the full in
spiration OF the occasion, and his barbed
wit is flying fast and frequent, and mark
how, as he drives forward that wedge-like
head Of Ills, as if determined to open space
in the heads Of the listeners for each word
he utters and stick it there.
lie looks older than lie is, from tho
whiteness of his hair, and the sLrunk ap.
pearance Of his person increased, doubtless
by the loose and ill-arranged dress. You
would say, at first sight, that lie might be
sixty'fve years Of age, but as you watched
the sharp, darting glances of his grey eyes
which, though full, seemed small, when
concentrated in the eagerness of his anima-
ted conversation, and observe the quick,
rapid movements of Lis features, and the
lively muscular action of lis whole body
yop are not surprised to learn that he is ten
years yourger.
But few weeks since Ierrold thus look.
ed, talked, and set the table in roar. It
was long after midnight when we left and
be and Thackeray, and their companions,
were yet in the full tide of joyous convivali-
ty. The company may have seen him since
in the "ahode Of supper and of song," for
no one was a more frequent visitor than
Jerrold; but they will not see him more
How the comic song Of that night comes
up again 10 the memory, mocking sorrow
like laughter at funeral.
$50 sing and be merry, for times on the wing.
Who knows what Tomorrow for many NAV
bSipgt"