Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

54
"His name is Lord Yardham," answered that friend. "He never comes here but at night—
and why?"
"Y?" igsclaimed Jools, istonisht.
"Why? because he is engaygd all day—and do you know where he is engaygd all day?"
"Where?" asked Jools.
"At the Foring Office—NOW do you begin to understand?"—Jools trembled.
He speaks of his uncle, the head of that office.—"Who IS the head of that offis?—
Palmerston."
"The nephew of Palmerston!" said Jools, almost in a fit.
"Lor Yardham pretends not to speak French," the other went on. "He pretends he can only
say wee and commong porty voo. Shallow humbug!—I have marked him during our
conversations.—When we have spoken of the glory of France among the nations, I have
seen his eye kindle, and his perfidious lip curl with rage. When they have discussed before
him, the Imprudents! the affairs of Europe, and Raggybritchovich has shown us the next
Circassian Campaign, or Sapousne has laid hare the plan of the Calabrian patriots for the
next insurrection, I have marked this stranger—this Lor Yardham. He smokes, 'tis to
conceal his countenance; he drinks gin, 'tis to hide his face in the goblet. And be sure, he
carries every word of our conversation to the perfidious Palmerston, his uncle."
"I will beard him in his den," thought Jools. "I will meet him corps-a-corps—the tyrant of
Europe shall suffer through his nephew, and I will shoot him as dead as Dujarrier."
When Lor Yardham came to the "Constantanople" that night, Jools i'd him savidgely from
edd to foot, while Lord Yardham replied the same. It wasn't much for either to do—neyther
being more than 4 foot ten hi—Jools was a grannydear in his company of the Nashnal
Gard, and was as brayv as a lion.
"Ah, l'Angleterre, l'Angleterre, tu nous dois une revanche," said Jools, crossing his arms
and grinding his teeth at Lord Yardham.
"Wee," said Lord Yardham; "wee."
"Delenda est Carthago!" howled out Jools.