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can't she show？ Shall I tell you； Minns； why she can't
show？ The Princess Scragainoffsky's back is flayed
alive； MinnsI tell you it's raw； sir！ On Tuesday last；
at twelve o'clock； three drummers of the Preobajinski
Regiment arrived at Ashburnham House； and at half…past
twelve； in the yellow drawing…room at the Russian
Embassy； before the ambassadress and four ladies'…maids；
the Greek Papa； and the Secretary of Embassy； Madame de
Scragamoffsky received thirteen dozen。 She was knouted；
sir； knouted in the midst of Englandin Berkeley Square；
for having said that the Grand Duchess Olga's hair was
red。 And now； sir； will you tell me Lord Palmerston
ought to continue Minister？'
Minns： 'Good Ged！'
Minns follows Spitfire about； and thinks him the greatest
and wisest of human beings。
CHAPTER XXXIX
CLUB SNOBS
Why does not some great author write 'The Mysteries of
the Club…houses； or St。 James's Street unveiled？' It
would be a fine subject for an imaginative writer。 We
must all； as boys； remember when we went to the fair； and
had spent all our moneythe sort of awe and anxiety with
which we loitered round the outside of the show；
speculating upon the nature of the entertainment going on
within。
Man is a Dramaof Wonder and Passion； and Mystery and
Meanness； and Beauty and Truthfulness； and Etcetera。
Each Bosom is a Booth in Vanity Fair。 But let us stop
this capital style； I should die if I kept it up for a
column （a pretty thing a column all capitals would be； by
the way）。 In a Club； though there mayn't be a soul of
your acquaintance in the room； you have always the chance
of watching strangers； and speculating on what is going
on within those tents and curtains of their souls； their
coats and waistcoats。 This is a never…failing sport。
Indeed I am told there are some Clubs in the town where
nobody ever speaks to anybody。 They sit in the coffee…
room； quite silent； and watching each other。
Yet how little you can tell from a man's outward
demeanour！ There's a man at our Clublarge； heavy；
middle…agedgorgeously dressedrather baldwith
lacquered bootsand a boa when he goes out； quiet in
demeanour； always ordering and consuming a RECHERCHE
little dinner： whom I have mistaken for Sir John
Pocklington any time these five years； and respected as a
man with five hundred pounds PER DIEM； and I find he is
but a clerk in an office in the City； with not two
hundred pounds income； and his name is Jubber。 Sir John
Pocklington was； on the contrary； the dirty little snuffy
man who cried out so about the bad quality of the beer；
and grumbled at being overcharged three…halfpence for a
herring； seated at the next table to Jubber on the day
when some one pointed the Baronet out to me。
Take a different sort of mystery。 I see； for instance；
old Fawney stealing round the rooms of the Club； with
glassy； meaningless eyes； and an endless greasy simper
he fawns on everybody he meets； and shakes hands with
you； and blesses you； and betrays the most tender and
astonishing interest in your welfare。 You know him to be
a quack and a rogue； and he knows you know it。 But he
wriggles on his way； and leaves a track of slimy flattery
after him wherever he goes。 Who can penetrate that man's
mystery？ What earthly good can he get from you or me？
You don't know what is working under that leering
tranquil mask。 You have only the dim instinctive
repulsion that warns you； you are in the presence of a
knavebeyond which fact all Fawney's soul is a secret to
you。
I think I like to speculate on the young men best。 Their
play is opener。 You know the cards in their hand； as it
were。 Take； for example； Messrs。 Spavin and Cockspur。
A specimen or two of the above sort of young fellows may
be found； I believe； at most Clubs。 They know nobody。
They bring a fine smell of cigars into the room with
them； and they growl together； in a corner； about
sporting matters。 They recollect the history of that
short period in which they have been ornaments of the
world by the names of winning horses。 As political men
talk about 'the Reform year；' 'the year the Whigs went
out；' and so forth； these young sporting bucks speak of
TARNATION'S year； or OPODELDOC'S year； or the year when
CATAWAMPUS ran second for the Chester Cup。 They play at
billiards in the morning； they absorb pale ale for
breakfast； and 'top up' with glasses of strong waters。
They read BELL'S LIFE （and a very pleasant paper too；
with a great deal of erudition in the answers to
correspondents）。 They go down to Tattersall's； and
swagger in the Park； with their hands plunged in the
pockets of their paletots。
What strikes me especially in the outward demeanour of
sporting youth is their amazing gravity； their
conciseness of speech； and careworn and moody air。 In
the smoking…room at the 'Regent；' when Joe Millerson will
be setting the whole room in a roar with laughter； you
hear young Messrs。 Spavin and Cockspur grumbling
together in a corner。 'I'll take your five…and…twenty to
one about Brother to Bluenose；' whispers Spavin。 'Can't
do it at the price；' Cockspur says； wagging his head
ominously。 The betting…book is always present in the
minds of those unfortunate youngsters。 I think I hate
that work even more than the 'Peerage。' There is some
good in the latterthough； generally speaking； a vain
record： though De Mogyns is not descended from the giant
Hogyn Mogyn； though half the other genealogies are
equally false and foolish； yet the mottoes are good
readingsome of them； and the book itself a sort of
gold…laced and livened lackey to History； and in so far
serviceable。 But what good ever came out of； or went
into； a betting…book？ If I could be Caliph Omar for a
week； I would pitch every one of those despicable
manuscripts into the flames； from my Lord's； who is 'in'
with Jack Snaffle's stable； and is over…reaching worse…
informed rogues and swindling greenhorns； down to Sam's；
the butcher…boy's； who books eighteenpenny odds in the
tap…room； and 'stands to win five…and…twenty bob。'
In a turf transaction； either Spavin or Cockspur would
try to get the better of his father； and； to gain a point
in the odds； victimise his best friends。 One day we
shall hear of one or other levanting； an event at which；
not being sporting men； we shall not break our hearts。
SeeMr。 Spavin is settling his toilette previous to
departure； giving a curl in the glass to his side…wisps
of hair。 Look at him！ It is only at the hulks； or among
turf…men； that you ever see a face so mean； so knowing；
and so gloomy。
A much more humane being among the youthful Clubbists is
the Lady…killing Snob。 I saw Wiggle just now in the
dressing…room； talking to Waggle； his inseparable。
WAGGLE。 'Pon my honour； Wiggle； she did。'
WIGGLE。 'Well； Waggle； as you sayI own I think she
DID look at me rather kindly。 W