CHAPTER XXXII
THE MAN OF P-R-O-R-PERTY
And now behold Mr. Puffington, fat, fair, and rather more thanforty--Puffington, no longer the light limber lad who patronized us in BondStreet, but Puffington a plump, portly sort of personage, filling his smartclothes uncommonly full. Men no longer hailing him heartily from baywindows, or greeting him cheerily in short but familiar terms, but bowingceremoniously as they passed with their wives, or perhaps turning downstreets or into shops to avoid him. What is the last rose of summer to dounder such circumstances? What, indeed, but retire into the country? A manmay shine there long after he is voted a bore in town, provided none of hisold friends are there to proclaim him. Country people are tolerant oftwaddle, and slow of finding things out for themselves. Puff now turned hisattention to the country, or rather to the advertisements of estates forsale, and immortal George Robins soon fitted him with one of his earthlyparadises; a mansion replete with every modern elegance, luxury, andconvenience, situated in the heart of the most lovely scenery in the world,with eight hundred acres of land of the finest quality, capable of growingforty bushels of wheat after turnips. In addition to the estate there was alordship or reputed lordship to shoot over, a river to fish in, a pack offox-hounds to hunt with, and the advertisements gave a sly hint as to thepossibility of the property influencing the representation of theneighbouring borough of Swillingford, if not of returning the memberitself.
This was Hanby House, and though the description undoubtedly partook ofGeorge's usual high-flown _couleur-de-rose_ style, the manor being only amanor provided the owner sacrificed his interest in Swillingford by drivingoff its poachers, and the river being only a river when the tiny Swill wasswollen into one, still Hanby House was a very nice attractive sort ofplace, and seen in the rich foliage of its summer dress, with all its rosesand flowering shrubs in full blow, the description was not so wide of themark as Robins's descriptions usually were. Puff bought it, and became whathe called 'a man of p-r-o-r-perty.' To be sure, after he got possession hefound that it was only an acre here and there that would grow forty bushelsof wheat after turnips, and that there was a good deal more to do at thehouse than he expected, the furniture of the late occupants having hiddenmany defects, added to which they had walked off with almost everythingthey could wrench down, under the name of fixtures; indeed, there was not apeg to hang up his hat when he entered. This, however, was nothing, andPuff very soon made it into one of the most perfect bachelor residencesthat ever was seen. Not but that it was a family house, with good nurseriesand offices of every description; but Puff used to take a sort of wickedpleasure in telling the ladies who came trooping over with their daughters,pretending they thought he was from home, and wishing to see the elegantfurniture, that there was nothing in the nurseries, which he was going toconvert into billiard and smoking-rooms. This, and a few similar sallies,earned our friend the reputation of a wit in the country.
There was great rush of gentlemen to call upon him; many of the mammasseemed to think that first come would be first served, and sent theirhusbands over before he was fairly squatted. Various and contradictory werethe accounts they brought home. Men are so stupid at seeing and rememberingthings. Old Mr. Muddle came back bemused with sherry, declaring that hethought Mr. Puffington was as old as he was (sixty-two), while Mrs.Mousetrap thought he wasn't more than thirty at the outside. She describedhim as 'painfully handsome.' Mr. Slowan couldn't tell whether thedrawing-room furniture was chintz, or damask, or what it was; indeed, hewasn't sure that he was in the drawing-room at all; while Mr. Gapesinsisted that the carpet was a Turkey carpet, whereas it was a royal cutpile. It might be that the smartness and freshness of everything confusedthe bucolic minds, little accustomed to wholesale grandeur.
Mr. Puffington quite eclipsed all the old country families with their'company rooms' and put-away furniture. Then, when he began to grind aboutthe country in his lofty mail-phaeton, with a pair of spanking,high-stepping bays, and a couple of arm-folded, lolling grooms, sheddinghis cards in return for their calls, there was such a talk, such acommotion, as had never been known before. Then, indeed, he was appreciatedat his true worth.
AN 'AMA-A-ZIN' POP'LAR' MAN]
'Mr. Puffington was here the other day,' said Mrs. Smirk to Mrs. Smooth, inthe well-known 'great-deal-more-meant-than-said' style. 'Oh such a charmingman! Such ease! such manners! such knowledge of high life!' Puff had beenat his old tricks. He had resuscitated Lord Legbail, now Earl of Loosefish;imported Sir Harry Blueun from somewhere near Geneva, whither he hadretired on marrying his mistress; and resuscitated Lord Mudlark, who hadbroken his neck many years before from his tandem in Piccadilly. Whateverwas said, Puff always had a duplicate or illustration involving a nobleman.The great names might be rather far-fetched at times, to be sure, but whenpeople are inclined to be pleased they don't keep putting that and thattogether to see how they fit, and whether they come naturally or are luggedin neck and heels. Puff's talk was very telling.
One great man to a house is the usual country allowance, and many are notvery long in letting out who theirs are; but Puffington seemed to have thewhole peerage, baronetage, and knightage at command. Old Mrs. Slyboots,indeed, thought that he must be connected with the peerage some way; hismother, perhaps, had been the daughter of a peer, and she gave herself aninfinity of trouble in hunting through the 'matches'--with what success itis not necessary to say. The old ladies unanimously agreed that he was amost agreeable, interesting young man; and though the young ones didpretend to run him down among themselves, calling him ugly, and so on, itwas only in the vain hope of dissuading each other from thinking of him.
Mr. Puffington still stuck to the 'am_aa_zin' pop'lar man' character; acharacter that is not so convenient to support in the country as it is intown. The borough of Swillingford, as we have already intimated, was notthe best conducted borough in the world; indeed, when we say that theprincipal trade of the place was poaching, our country readers will be ableto form a very accurate opinion on that head. When Puff took possession ofHanby there was a fair show of pheasants about the house, and a goodsprinkling of hares and partridges over the estate and manor generally; butrefusing to prosecute the first poachers that were caught, the rest tookthe hint, and cleared everything off in a week, dividing the plunder amongthem. They also burnt his river and bagged his fine Dorking fowls, and allthese feats being accomplished with impunity, they turned their attentionto his fat sheep.
'Poacher' is only a mild term for 'thief.'
Puff was a perfect milch-cow in the way of generosity. He gave toeverything and everybody, and did not seem to be acquainted with anysmaller sum than a five-pound note; a five-pound note to replace GilesJolter's cart-horse (that used to carry his own game for the poachers tothe poulterers at Plunderstone)--five pounds to buy Dame Doubletongueanother pig, though she had only just given three pounds for the one thatdied--five pounds towards the fire at farmer Scratchley's, though it hadtaken place two years before Puff came into the country, and Scratchley hadbeen living upon it ever since--and sundry other five pounds to otherequally deserving and amiable people. He put his name down for fifty to theMangeysterne hounds without ever being asked; which reminds us that weought to be directing our attention to that noble establishment.
It is hard to have to go behind the scenes of an ill-supported hunt, and wewill be as brief and tender with the cripples as we can. The Mangeysternehounds wanted that great ingredient of prosperity, a large nest-eggsubscriber, to whom all others could be tributary--paying or not as mightbe convenient. The consequence was they were always up the spout. They wereneither a scratch pack nor a regular pack, but something betwixt andbetween. They were hunted by a saddler, who found his own horses, andsometimes he had a whip and sometimes he hadn't. The establishment died asoften as old Mantalini himself. Every season that came to a close wasproclaimed to be their last, but somehow or other they always managed toscramble into existence on the approach of another. It is a way, indeed,that delicate pack
s have of recruiting their finances. Nevertheless, theMangeysternes did look very like coming to an end about the time that Mr.Puffington bought Hanby House. The saddler huntsman had failed; John Doehad taken one of his screws, and Richard Roe the other, and anybody mighthave the hounds that liked: Puffington then turned up.
Great was the joy diffused throughout the Mangeysterne country when ittranspired, through the medium of his valet, Louis Bergamotte, that 'hislor' had _beaucoup habit rouge_' in his wardrobe. Not only habit rouge, buthabit blue and buff, that he used to sport with 'Old Beaufort' and theBadminton Hunt--coats that he certainly had no chance of ever getting intoagain, but still which he kept as memorials of the past--souvenirs of thedays when he was young and slim. The bottle-conjurer could just as soonhave got into his quart bottle as Puff could into the Beaufort coat at thetime of which we are writing. The intelligence of their existence wasquickly followed by the aforesaid fifty-pound cheque. A meeting of theMangeysterne hunt was called at the sign of the Thirsty Freeman inSwillingford--Sir Charles Figgs, Knight--a large-promising but badly payingsubscriber--in the chair, when it was proposed and carried unanimously thatMr. Puffington was eminently qualified for the mastership of the hunt, andthat it be offered to him accordingly. Puff 'bit.' He recalled his earlyexploits with 'Mostyn and old Beaufort,' and resolved that the hunt hadtaken a right view of his abilities. In coming to this decision he,perhaps, was not altogether uninfluenced by a plausible subscription list,which seemed about equal to the ordinary expenses, supposing that anyreliance could be placed on the figures and calculations of Sir Charles.All those, however, who have had anything to do with subscriptionlists--and in these days of universal testimonializing who has not?--wellknow that pounds upon paper and pounds in the pocket are very differentthings. Above all Puff felt that he was a new man in the country, and thattaking the hounds would give him weight.
The 'Mangeysterne dogs' then began to 'look up'; Mr. Puffington took tothem in earnest; bought a 'Beckford,' and shortened his military stirrupsto a hunting seat.
Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour Page 32