most unpicturesque miscellany of individuals, unclassically called, the London mob. “Mind your pockets,” said I to my country friend.
“By Jove, it’s too late,” said he, feeling in his pocket—“my handkerchief is gone!”
“Is that all?” I inquired.
“Well, let me see,” he observed, feeling again: “yes, thank God! my watch and purse are quite safe.”
“Ah,” I continued, laughing, “the old adage which prompts us to thank God for all things is quite correct; for you are actually thanking Him for the loss of your handkerchief.”
“Not at all,” he replied; “I was thanking Him for the safety of my watch and purse.” After a hearty laugh we parted, he going to the “Albion,” and I to the “Wellington.”
On my arrival there, I found that my friend had been and was gone. My intelligent cabby soon brought me back through the dense atmosphere to that far-famed temple of Comus, at which crowds of celebrities meet nightly—some to restore themselves internally, others to sharpen their wits at that tantalising abode of good cheer. Upon entering, I inquired of a waiter, a stranger to me, if he could inform me where my six friends intended to sup.
“Yes, sir, directly.” Speaking down the trumpet: “Below! a Welsh rabbit and fresh toast—two kidneys underdone—scalloped oyster—a chop—two taters! Look sharp below!” To the barmaid: “Two stouts, miss—one pale—four brandies hot, two without—one whisky—three gin—pint sherry—bottle of port!”
“What an intelligent waiter!” thought I, “to have so good a memory.” Having waited till he had given his orders, I again said, “Pray, my fine fellow, in which room are my friends going to sup? They have a private room, no doubt?”
“Yes, sir, a private room for two.”
“No, not for two—for six.”
“Oh! I don’t mean that, sir: I want a rump-steak for two,” said he; “stewed tripe for one—three grogs—bottle pale Bass.” And off he went to the coffee-room.
“Plague upon the fellow!” said I to myself.
As the barmaid could not give me any information upon the subject, and I perceived through a half-opened door on the right-hand side of the bar a table laid for six, I went in, making sure it was for my friends, and that they had not yet arrived. Indeed, I had myself returned from my appointment much sooner than I had expected. I sat down, and was reading the evening paper, when a waiter came in. “After you with the paper, sir.”
“I have done; you may take it.”
“There’s the Times, sir, if you have not seen it.”
“No, I have not; let me have a look at it.” After reading one of the leaders, my attention was drawn to a long article written by the Crimean correspondent of that journal. When I had read it carefully a second time, a few minutes’ reflection on my part enabled me to collect my ideas, and established in my mind a certain assurance that I could, if allowed by Government, render service in the cooking of the food, the administration of the same, as well as the distribution of the provisions. These were matters in which I could detect, through the description of that eye-witness, the writer of the above-mentioned article, some change was much needed. I therefore wrote the following letter to the Times, it being then nearly one o’clock in the morning:—
THE HOSPITAL KITCHENS AT SCUTARI.
To the Editor of the Times.
Sir,—After carefully perusing the letter of your correspondent, dated Scutari, in your impression of Wednesday last, I perceive that, although the kitchen under the superintendence of Miss Nightingale affords so much relief, the system of management at the large one in the Barrack-hospital is far from being perfect. I propose offering my services gratuitously, and proceeding direct to Scutari, at my own personal expense, to regulate that important department, if the Government will honour me with their confidence, and grant me the full power of acting according to my knowledge and experience in such matters.
I have the honour to remain, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
A. Soyer.
Feb. 2, 1855.
After despatching this letter, I again inquired about my friends and my anticipated supper, which for some time had escaped my memory. “Did you ring, sir?”
“No, I did not, sir, but the bell has;” recognising my stupid waiter.
“Oh, sir! are you here?”
“Of course I am; don’t you see me?”
“Well, sir, your friends have had supper; they inquired everywhere for you; I told them you could not wait, as you had two ladies to see home as far as Brompton.”
“You foolish fellow! I never spoke to you about ladies, Brompton, or any such thing; I merely asked you where my friends were to sup; to which you replied, ‘Rump-steak for two, tripe for one, two taters, pat of butter, one pale Bass, and three kidneys for a gentleman, underdone.’”
“No more you did, sir. It was number three who told me to say so; not you, sir; you’re quite right, sir!”
“I am sure I am right; but as for you, your head is quite wrong!”
“Well, I assure you, sir, we have so much to do at times, we hardly know what we are about.”
“I don’t think you do,” said I, sharply.
“But I tell you what, sir, they are there still, and you had better go to them.”
“No, it is too late now; give them this note from me when they go out; and here is sixpence for yourself, for through your mistake you have after all rendered me a service. I did not wish to come here this evening, as I have an early engagement for to-morrow, so I will have a bit of supper and go home.”
“Well, do, sir; I thank you, and am very glad I have given you satisfaction at last.”
“Send Little Jack here; he knows what I like for supper.”
“Hallo, Mr. Soyer, everybody in the coffee-room has been inquiring after you this evening,” said Little Jack upon entering.
“I know; but that foolish waiter who was here just now made such a mull of everything, that he quite upset our party; I could not get any answer from him, so I made sure this table was laid out for us, and here I stuck.”
“No, sir, your friends supped in the coffee-room, and are still there, if you like to have your supper near them.”
“No, no; give me what you like here.”
“What shall it be, sir? oysters, broiled kidneys, chops, steaks, stewed tripe, broiled bones?”
“Have you nothing else?”
“Yes, sir, grilled fowl and scalloped oysters; only they will take some time preparing.”
“Well,
