The Parent's Assistant; Or, Stories for Children

When they have almost all passed, Lord John says, But where can Mr. Talbot be all this time?

Burs. Who knows? Who cares?

Wheel. A pretty electioneerer! (Aside to Bursal.) Finsbury's waiting to be paid.

Lord J. You don't wait for me, Mr. Finsbury. You know, I have settled with you.

Fins. Yes, my lord – yes. Many thanks; and I have left your lordship's dress here, and everybody's dress, I believe, as bespoke.

Burs. Here, Finsbury, is the money for Wheeler, who, between you and me, is as poor as a rat.

Wheeler (affecting to laugh). Well, I hope I shall be as rich as a Jew to-morrow.

    (Bursal counts money, in an ostentatious manner, into Finsbury's hand.)

Fins. A thousand thanks for all favours.

Rory. You will be kind enough to lave Mr. Talbot's dress with me, Mr. Finsbury, for I'm a friend.

Fins. Indubitably, sir; but the misfortune is – he! he! he! – Mr. Talbot, sir, has bespoke no dress. Your servant, gentlemen.

    (Exit Finsbury.)

Burs. So your friend Mr. Talbot could not afford to bespeak a dress – (Bursal and Wheeler laugh insolently). How comes that, I wonder?

Lord J. If I'm not mistaken, here comes Talbot to answer for himself.

Rory. But who, in the name of St. Patrick, has he along with him?

Enter Talbot and Landlord

Talb. Come in along with us, Farmer Hearty – come in.

    (Whilst the Farmer comes in, the boys who were sitting on the stairs rise and exclaim,)

Whom have we here? What now? Come down, lads; here's more fun.

Rory. What's here, Talbot?

Talb. An honest farmer and a good-natured landlord, who would come here along with me to speak —

Farm. (interrupting). To speak the truth – (strikes his stick on the ground).

Landlord (unbuttoning his waistcoat). But I am so hot – so short-winded, that (panting and puffing) – that for the soul and body of me, I cannot say what I have got for to say.

Rory. 'Faith, now, the more short-winded a story, the better, to my fancy.

Burs. Wheeler, what's the matter, man? you look as if your under jaw was broke.

Farm. The matter is, young gentlemen, that there was once upon a time a fine bay hunter.

Wheel. (squeezing up to Talbot, aside). Don't expose me, don't let him tell. (To the Farmer.) I'll pay for the corn I spoiled. (To the Landlord.) I'll pay for the horse.

Farm. I does not want to be paid for my corn. The short of it is, young gentlemen, this 'un here, in the fine thing-em-bobs (pointing to Wheeler), is a shabby fellow; he went and spoiled Master Newington's best hunter.

Land. (panting). Ruinationed him! ruinationed him!

Rory. But was that all the shabbiness? Now I might, or any of us might, have had such an accident as that. I suppose he paid the gentleman for the horse, or will do so, in good time.

Land. (holding his sides). Oh, that I had but a little breath in this body o' mine to speak all – speak on, Farmer.

Farm. (striking his stick on the floor). Oons, sir, when a man's put out, he can't go on with his story.

Omnes. Be quiet, Rory – hush!

    (Rory puts his finger on his lips.)

Farm. Why, sir, I was a-going to tell you the shabbiness – why, sir, he did not pay the landlord, here, for the horse; but he goes and says to the landlord, here – 'Mr. Talbot had your horse on the self-same day; 'twas he did the damage; 'tis from he you must get your money.' So Mr. Talbot, here, who is another sort of a gentleman (though he has not so fine a coat), would not see a man at a loss, that could not afford it; and not knowing which of 'em it was that spoiled the horse, goes, when he finds the other would not pay a farthing, and pays all.

Rory (rubbing his hands). There's Talbot for ye. And now, gentlemen (to Wheeler and Bursal), you guess the rason, as I do, I suppose, why he bespoke no dress; he had not money enough to be fine – and honest, too. You are very fine, Mr. Wheeler, to do you justice.

Lord J. Pray, Mr. O'Ryan, let the farmer go on; he has more to say. How did you find out, pray, my good friend, that it was not Talbot who spoiled the horse? Speak loud enough to be heard by everybody.

Farm. Ay, that I will – I say (very loudly) I say I saw him there (pointing to Wheeler) take the jump which strained the horse; and I'm ready to swear to it. Yet he let another pay; there's the shabbiness.

    (A general groan from all the lads. 'Oh, shabby Wheeler, shabby! I'll not vote for shabby Wheeler!')

Lord J. (aside). Alas! I must vote for him.

Rory sings

True game to the last; no Wheeler for me;
Talbot, oh, Talbot's the dog for me.

    (Several voices join the chorus.)

Burs. Wheeler, if you are not chosen Captain, you must see and pay me for the dress.

Wheel. I am as poor as a rat.

Rory. Oh yes! oh yes! hear ye! hear ye, all manner of men – the election is now going to begin forthwith in the big field, and Rory O'Ryan holds the poll for Talbot. Talbot for ever! – huzza!

    (Exit Rory followed by the Boys, who exclaim, Talbot for ever! – huzza! The Landlord and Farmer join them.)

Lord J. Talbot, I am glad you are what I always thought you – I'm glad you did not write that odious song. I would not lose such a friend for all the songs in the world. Forgive me for my hastiness this morning. I've punished myself – I've promised to vote for Wheeler.

Talb. Oh, no matter whom you vote for, my lord, if you are still my friend, and if you know me to be yours.

    (They shake hands.)