The Gentleman-in-Powder, aware of a knocking, yawned, laid aside the
"Gazette," and getting upon his legs (which, like all things truly
dignified, were never given to hurry), they, in due season, brought
him to the door, albeit they shook with indignant quiverings at the
increasing thunder of each repeated summons. Therefore the
Gentleman-in-Powder, with his hand upon the latch, having paused
long enough to vindicate and compose his legs, proceeded to open the
portal of Number Five, St. James's Square; but, observing the person
of the importunate knocker, with that classifying and discriminating
eye peculiar to footmen, immediately frowned and shook his head: "The hother door, me man,--marked 'tradesmen,'" said he, the angle
of his nose a little more supercilious than usual, "and ring only,
if you please." Having said which, he shut the door again; that
is to say,--very nearly, for strive as he might, his efforts were
unavailing, by reason of a round and somewhat battered object which,
from its general conformation, he took to be the end of a formidable
bludgeon or staff. But, applying his eye to the aperture, he saw
that this very obtrusive object was nothing more or less than a leg
(that is to say, a wooden one), which was attached to the person of
a burly, broad-shouldered, fiercely bewhiskered man in clothes of
navy-blue, a man whose hairy, good-natured visage was appropriately
shaded by a very shiny glazed hat.
"Avast there!" said this personage in deep, albeit jovial tones,
"ease away there, my lad,--stand by and let old Timbertoes come
aboard!"
But the Gentleman-in-Powder was not to be cajoled. He sniffed.
"The hother door, me good feller!" he repeated, relentless but
dignified, "and ring only, if you pl--"
The word was frozen upon his horrified lip, for Timbertoes had
actually set his blue-clad shoulder to the door, and now, bending
his brawny back, positively began to heave at it with might and main,
cheering and encouraging himself meanwhile with sundry nautical
"yo ho's." And all this in broad daylight! In St. James's Square!
Whereupon ensued the following colloquy: The Gentleman-in-Powder (pushing from within. Shocked and amazed).
"Wot's this? Stop it! Get out now, d'ye hear!"
Timbertoes (pushing from without. In high good humor). "With a ho,
my hearties, and a merrily heave O!"
The Gentleman-in-Powder (struggling almost manfully, though legs
highly agitated). "I--I'll give you in c-charge! I'll--"
Timbertoes (encouraging an imaginary crew). "Cheerily! Cheerily!
heave yo ho!"
The Gentleman-in-Powder (losing ground rapidly. Condition of legs
indescribable). "I never--see nothing--like this here! I'll--"
Timbertoes (all shoulders, whiskers and pig-tail). "With a heave and
a ho, and up she rises O!"
The Gentleman-in-Powder (extricating his ruffled dignity from
between wall and door). "Oh, very good,--I'll give you in charge for
this, you--you feller! Look at me coat! I'll send for a constable.
I'll--"