The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 241: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

216 REYNOLDS’ WORKS those coats could the slightest glimpse be caught of linen, calico, or long-cloth. At the same time that they presented themselves at the entrance of Marchmont House, the hall porter became aware of a somewhat strong odour, com- pounded of onions, tobacco-smoke, and perspiration, and he made a wry face, for his nostrils were unaccustomed to such a scent in the aristocratic region of Belgrave Square. The three worthies at once saw that the porter both > sniffed and eyed them suspiciously, whereat they drew them- selves up with the mightiest airs of importance, and with their somewhat dirty hands began stroking their beards and playing with their moustaches. Then one of the gen- tlemen said to the porter, “‘ We sall be calling for to ask for his Grace; de yong Duke of Marchmont.”’ ‘‘ His Grace is engaged,’ answered the porter, somewhat curtly, although he was naturally a very civil, obliging, and well-behaved man, for otherwise he would not have been retained in Christian’s service. ‘Den we sall be for to wait,’’ said the individual who was acting as spokesman. ‘“‘ You not know us. We vare ereat men in our own country, great men in our faderland.”’ The porter looked as if he thought that it was a great pity they ever came out of their fatherland, for he was by no means inclined to believe that they could be great per- sonages in England. “You sall be having de honour of knowing me, mine goot mans,” continued the spokesman. ‘“ We are de Cheva- lier Gumbinnen, de lord chamberlain of dat high and mighty prince de reigning Duke of Maxe-Stolburg-Quotha. Dis am de Chevalier Kadger, de equerry to de same grand duke; and dis am de Count Frumpenhausen, de Gold Tick to him Royal Highness de vare same grand duke.”’ The hall porter placed his hand to his forehead with a be- wildered air, as all these magnificent titles were as mer- cilessly and overpoweringly hurled at him, but still there was that exceedingly unaristocratic odour infecting the atmos- phere, and producing with the unfortunate hall porter a sen- sation of sickness. “What do these fellows want?” asked a powdered lackey, coming forward. ‘‘ There, be off with you, my good man,” he added, proffering the Chevalier Gumbinnen a few pence. CORNIECLOOLKKS (E()