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WELCOME TO YATTON!
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They puffed and blew lustily; bang! bang! bang! went the drum; but the rain, the thunder, and the lightning woefully interfered with their harmony. 'Twould have made your heart ache to see the wet flag clinging obstinately to the pole, in spite of all the efforts of its burly bearer! But now for the procession--first, on horseback, was Barnabas Bloodsuck, (senior,) Esq.; beside him rode his son, Barnabas Bloodsuck, (junior,) Esq.; then came the Reverend Gideon Fleshpot, solemn simpleton, the vicar of Grilston, the only Radical clergyman in that part of the country; beside him, the Reverend Smirk Mudflint, a flippant, bitter, little Unitarian parson, a great crony of Mr. Fleshpot, and his surname singularly enough exactly designating the qualities of his brain and heart. Next to these, alone in his one-horse chaise, (looking like a pill-box drawn by a leech,) came the little fat Whig apothecary, Gargle Glister, Esq. Following him came, also in a gig, Going Gone, Esq., the auctioneer--the main prop of the Liberal side, being a most eloquent speaker--and Mr. Hic Hæc Hoc, a learned schoolmaster, who undertook to teach the rudiments of Latin, viz. the Latin grammar up as far as the irregular verbs. Then there were Mr. Centipede, the editor, and Mr. Woodhouse, the publisher and proprietor of the
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YORKSHIRE STINGO, for which, also, Mr. Mudflint wrote a great deal. These, and about a dozen others, the flower of the
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thereabouts, disdainful of the inclement weather, bent on displaying their attachment to the new owner of Yatton, and solacing each his patient inner man with anticipation of the jolly cheer awaiting him at the Hall, formed the principal part of the procession; the rest consisting of rather a miscellaneous assortment of scot-and-lot and potwalloper-looking people, all very wet and hungry, and very frequently casting looks of devout expectation towards the Hall. Scarcely a villager of Yatton was to be seen stirring; nor did any of the tenants of the estate join in the procession; even had they not felt far otherwise disposed, they had luckily a complete excuse for their non-appearance in the deplorable state of the weather. Sometimes the band played; then a peal of thunder came; then a cry of
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then the band, and then the thunder, and rain! rain! rain! Thus they got to the park gates, where they paused, the half-drowned men and boys shouting,
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Titmouse forever! hurra--a--a! Mr. Titmouse bobbing about, now at one window, then at the other, with his hat off, in the most gracious manner. Really it seemed almost as if the elements were indicating the displeasure of heaven at Mr. Titmouse's assumption of Yatton; for just as he was passing under the old gateway, out flashed the lightning more vividly than it had yet appeared, and the thunder bellowed and reverberated among the woods as though it would never have ceased. The music and shouting now ended suddenly; carriages, horsemen, pedestrians, quickened their pace in silence, as if anxious to get out of the storm; the horses now and then plunging and rearing violently. Titmouse was terribly frightened, in spite of his desperate efforts to appear unconcerned. He was as pale as death, and looked anxiously at Gammon, as if hoping to derive courage from the sight of his rigid countenance. Miss Quirk trembled violently, and several times uttered a faint scream: but her father, old Mr. Quirk, did not seem to care a pinch of snuff about the whole matter; he rubbed his hands together cheerily, chucked his daughter under the chin, rallied Titmouse, and now and then nudged and jeered Gammon, who seemed disposed to be serious and silent. Having drawn up opposite the Hall door, it was opened by Mr. Griffiths, with a saddened, but still respectful look and manner; and in the same way might be characterized some six or seven servants standing behind him, in readiness to receive the new-comers. The half-drowned musicians tried to strike up
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Rule Britannia,