HUNTING JOHN DORY.

BY GEORGE SOANE.

MATTHEW MUCHMORE was a fat little gentleman, on short legs, with a glistening eye, a round shiny face, and so unctuous withal that he involuntarily impressed you with the idea he must have oil in his veins instead of blood, like other people. He was a man of exquisite taste-not in music, nor yet of painting, and still less could it be said of him that he was particularly distinguished for his taste in dress, or dancing, or any such frivolities; no, it was in the matter of turtle and venison, champagne and Burgundy, that he was truly great; in these his taste was pre-eminent. Some foolish folks, whom I know, can see nothing to admire in this faculty of appreciating good things, and make it a great merit that their coarse throats can swallow anything. But why should not taste be as much cultivated in the tongue as in any other organ? Surely there is quite as much merit in being able to point out and relish the various niceties of some exquisite dishniceties imperceptible to the vulgar, as in the faculty of enjoying pictures with the eye, or music with the ear. So thought and reasoned the great Matthew, and, by the beard of Plato, many worse systems of philosophy have been and still are current in the world. It unluckily, however, chanced with him as it has done with so many other people, Nature and Fortune could by no means agree in electing him for a common favourite, for, while the one had endowed him with this admirable delicacy of palate, the other had been exceedingly niggard in supplying him with the means of gratifying it.

Hence it followed that he was obliged to be a regular diner-out, if he meant to dine at all; but, as he had a fund of good humour to back him, could tell a story well, and was besides no mean adept in the art of flattery, he was for the most part a welcome guest at the table of his acquaintance, whom, for his especial convenience, he took care should be as numerous as possible. They were chosen, moreover, with every attention to the qualities of their dinners, so that a certain malicious wag used to say that his dining frequently at any house was as good as a diploma to the cook of that particular establishment.

Still it would sometimes happen that his stomach got baffled and disappointed in its expectations; the meals even of his most valued friends were not at all times equally choice or well-supplied; and in more than one instance, when dropping in and invited to stop, the dinner which he fondly expected would consist at least of fish and fowl, in the absence of better things, proved to be that opprobrium on decent housekeeping, cold meat, eked out by the fragments of the day previous. Sorely was his patience tried, and his philosophy tasked by such occurrences; for, however good-humoured a man may be, every human temper has limits to its powers of endurance, and this with him was the limit-the last straw on the back of the overloaded camel; it was the one evil of life that he could not bear without wincing, and his curses, like those of Macbeth's subjects,

were not loud, but deep. At length, after long and serious reflection on the subject, he bethought him of a notable expedient by which he might be able to guess his bill of fare beforehand with some degree of certainty, instead of rashly accepting an invitation which might end, when too late to retreat, in cold orts and indigestible pickles. This was, to inquire at the various butchers and fishmongers who usually supplied his friends, what their several customers had ordered, and according to their replies, all duly entered and noted down, would he regulate his visits for the day.

It was in compliance with this laudable custom that our oleaginous little friend one day paid a visit to the King's fishmonger. On a marble slab at one side of the shop lay, as usual, several parcels of fish variously ticketed, according to their several destinations, and as he was by this time well known to the master, he was of course permitted to examine these important records, which he immediately fastened upon with all the gusto of an antiquary who has luckily discovered an illegible MS. There were soles-better never appeared at the table of a duke; cod-fish-the worst of them might have tempted a Jew to forswear his creed, and sit at a Christian's feast, even without the hope of cheating him; salmon-the Lord Mayor, and his whole court of aldermen, might have abandoned the greenest turtle, or the highest venison, only for the chance of a single mouthful. But, pre-eminent amongst them all was a John Dory-and oh! such a John! so magnificent in his proportions! so delicate in his complexion! so firm in his texture! of a verity he might have been eaten even as he lay there in all his uncooked loveliness, unscathed by fire, untouched by water, unadulterated by sauce. The heart of Matthew leapt within him as he gazed upon this noble product of the salt seas; his eyes and mouth ran over from excess of rapture; his cheeks grew more oleaginous and shiny, the inward spirit lighting up his face as a farthing rushlight dimly burns through the yellow horn of a lantern. A moment's glance at the ticket in the fish's jowl sufficed to show him that John was intended for the table of Lord Spring. Here was a glorious chance! his lordship was one of those who constantly asked him to dinner with the benevolent purpose of laughing at him. But let him laugh who wins!' thought Matthew to himself, and off he posted, on the wings of love-his passion really deserved the name and in less than half an hour he was to be seen knocking at his lordship's door,-not the loud, bullying dub-dub of an importunate dun, nor the consequential rat-a-tat-tat that so fitly announces an aristocratic visitor, nor yet the sneaking knock of a poor artist who seeks for patronage,—but a sort of conciliatory, yet firm tat-tat-tu, evincing that the knocker has great respect for the knockee, but still considers himself to be somebody in the world.

Now it happened to be just nine o'clock, consequently his lordship was at breakfast,-people kept shocking hours in those days to what they do now, and Matthew was fortunate enough to gain a ready admission to him.

I was just thinking of you, Mat!' he exclaimed, smiling be nignantly on the epicure; I have a score of jovial spirits to dine with me to-day. Suppose you join our party.'

Most cheerfully did Matthew accept the invitation.

At this moment a servant entered, bearing on a silver tray a small pink-coloured note, redolent with all the perfumes-not of Arabia, but of De la Croix, or some other of his odorous brethren. It was from Madame Pantalon, a fashionable Frenchwoman, in whom his lordship especially delighted. As he read her perfumed missive, a bland smile stole over his face, indicative of satisfaction with the writer, and he inquired of the servant what game there was in the house?

'None,' was the reply.

Whereat his lordship, giving a short, dissatisfied 'humph!' demanded if there was any fish.

'Only a John Dory,' said the gentleman's gentleman, which has just come in for your lordship's table to-day.'

Is it a fine fish, Mortimer?'

'Remarkably, your lordship.'

That will do, then. Send it to Madame Pantalon, with my compliments, and say that I may perhaps see her to-morrow.'

Mortimer accordingly departed. But Matthew, unfortunate Matthew! the colour fled from his rubicund cheeks, and he sate the image of despair. Dido, abandoned by the false Æneas, did not look more disconsolately after the ship of the flying traitor.

Why, what is the matter with you?' exclaimed his lordship. 'Are you ill, Mat. ?'

Only a little touch of my old complaint, a little vertigo, or so,' said Matthew, the colour bounding back again to his cheeks.

God bless my soul !' exclaimed his lordship, starting up, and laying his hand on the bell-pull; he's going to have a fit; I'll send for Dr. Stumps.'

Not at all necessary, my lord; I am much better now; a mouthful of fresh air is all that is requisite; so, with your leave, I'll just step into the park for an hour or so.'

Then I must not expect you to dinner to-day, I suppose?' said his lordship, in a tone of sympathy.

I fear not; but, perhaps, as I shall be so close, I may look in, upon Madame.'

At this reply, carelessly and dexterously as it was given, the words seeming to slip from Matthew's lips almost without his consciousness, a sudden light flashed upon his lordship. He looked steadily at his visiter for a few moments, and then said, with a knowing laugh,

'Do so, Mat.; John Dory is the best thing in the world for your complaint; and you can hint to Isabelle that the fish I have just sent will not keep till to-morrow.'

Matthew now shuffled out of the room with joy at his heart, and posted off to the little Frenchwoman's. Here, as his lordship's friend, he was of course made welcome, but not a word did the lady say about dinner, despite of all his hints about unoccupied time, and not knowing what to do with himself. Madame baffled, as it seemed, by his long visit, at last begged he would stay and dine with her.

But this is fast-day,' she said, smiling, 'with us Catholics, and I have nothing but my favourite dish of maccaroni.'

'Good heavens!' exclaimed the alarmed epicure, then John has not come ?'

Jean' said the lady, opening her eyes to the utmost, and giving a shrug, such as only a French woman can give. What Jean?

The beautiful John Dory!' cried Matthew, more in the way of exclamation than reply.

Monsieur Dory?' said Madame; 'I shall not be acquaint with no Monsieur Dory.'

'If anything should have happened to him on the road!' exclaimed Matthew, without noticing the lady's disclaimer, fortified as it was by a double negative; if that careless rascal should have dropped him in the mud!'

'Mais, mon Dieu !' exclaimed Madame, waxing impatient and irritable, 'I shall not know him, no, nothing at all. Who is monsieur ?'

'Bah' said Matthew, angrily; 'he's no monsieur, he 's a fish, the loveliest that ever smoked upon a table !'

Madame burst out into a prolonged fit of laughing.

'Du poisson! ah! mon Dieu! à présent. Now I shall comprends, you was intend an ugly monster, with a huge head, comme ça-ah! comme il étoit laid !'

Ugly he was beautiful!'

'Eh! mon Dieu! you shall have de taste bien extraordinaire; mais n'importe; I shall no like such poissons, and have send him to my old ami, Monsieur Dumas.'

This was the unkindest cut of all. Of Monsieur Dumas he absolutely knew nothing, except that he was suspected of being a Catholic priest, a dangerous character to associate with in those days, when Popery was very generally believed to have an intimate connection with the cause of the Pretender, who, even then, according to the best intelligence from abroad, was preparing to make another struggle for the throne of his ancestors. Independently, then, of the peril, there would be no little difficulty in contriving for himself a place at the dinner-table of a perfect stranger.

It was a daring scheme which our epicure meditated; some may even feel disposed to call it a piece of matchless impudence: and in the very outset his confidence was destined to be put to a severe trial. Scarcely had he time to rejoice in his dexterity in obtaining his release from Madame and a maccaroni dinner, than he encountered the mischief-loving Sir Frederick Sands.

'My good fellow !' he exclaimed, in a tone that was meant to express much friendly anxiety, what on earth could take you to the house of that Frenchwoman? Don't you know that to be seen going there is to be suspected of Jacobitism in these days, and that to be so suspected is the nearest way to a halter and gibbet of your own? But whither away so fast?'

'To Lord Spring!' answered Matthew, vainly endeavouring to free himself from the knight's grasp.

Then I congratulate you,' said the knight, 'on the very fair chance you have of being hanged forthwith. Why, Lord Spring is one of the staunchest adherents of the Pretender! there was a talk only the other day of sending him to the Tower upon suspicion.'

Matthew's jaw immediately dropped, and his whole face elongated prodigiously at this intimation. But yet, to give up his John Dory! it was impossible to entertain such an idea for a single moment.

Come what may come,' thought he to himself, I must and will

dine upon John this blessed day,—yea, though I should lose my head for it to-morrow.'

Resolution worthy of a Roman! and by way of tempering so much courage with a due mixture of caution and prudence, he communicated the whole history of his past and future wanderings to Sir Frederick, so that in case of any accident he might have a staunch loyalist and a true-blue Protestant to fall back upon for a character. To all these details did his mischievous auditor seriously incline, and having heard him out, commended with laudable gravity his pursuit of the fish-the flying fish, as he called it, but all the time with the secret intention of leading him into a scrape before the day was over. Somehow or other, it generally happens that when a man is bent on any mischief, the devil is sure to be ready at his elbow with the means. And so it chanced now. Scarcely had Matthew bade farewell to his insidious adviser, than a certain secretary, well known as a Government spy, made his appearance on the scene. Touching his hat to Sir Frederick, he was about to pass on, as one who thought his absence was more likely to be agreeable than his company, when the latter staying him, said,

'A word with you, Mr. Breedon !'

The spy started at the summons, not quite satisfied whether he was going to receive a bribe or a beating, for his conscience, without being asked, assured him he had quite as good a right to expect one as the other. He stopped, notwithstanding; blows being much too common an occurrence with him to let the fear of them stand in the way of any better chance.

Well met, Mr. Breedon!' cried Sir Frederick hastily; 'you have come in the very nick to do a service to the state, and to yourself at the same time.'

Mr. Breedon instantly called up a look of patriotism that would have done honour to 'the noblest Roman of them all,'-it was absolutely Brutus in coat, waistcoat, and trowsers, a great improvement on the costume of ancient Rome.

'You see that short, fat man, in the blue coat and grey trowsers? Yonder, I mean, he is looking in at the pastrycook's window,now he walks on again. Do you mark him?'

'I have him,' said the spy, eagerly.

Then follow him; watch him; do not lose him for a moment.' 'I won't.'

'He's a Jesuit in disguise!' continued Sir Frederick, sinking his voice into a mysterious whisper.

'Is he, indeed!' said the spy, in a similar tone; but truly I thought as much; he has all the air of St. Omer's about him, though he's much fatter than the breed in general.'

'Fat as he is, he brings letters from the Pretender to the Jacobites on this side of the water. He has just come out of Madame Pantalon's—you must have heard of her-she corresponds with half the Catholics in England, and he is now going to Mr. Dumas, who is generally suspected for a Jesuit.'

Off galloped the spy in pursuit of Matthew, who, in his no less eager pursuit of the John Dory, had by this time reached the house of Mr. Dumas. For a moment a qualm of bashfulness withheld his uplifted hand from the knocker, but he thought of John, and immediately was himself again. Down came the knocker, out came the