This is very nearly being a perfect definition of a Sham Swell. They are not, men or women, quite snobs; but it is difficult, at all times, where to draw the line which separates them.
Come, dear reader! Our acquaintance has been improving lately. Take thy walk abroad with me: we will seek them in their lairs. First, we’ll have a chop at the club, and then withdraw to the smoking-room— the only real withdrawing-room—as a sure find.
So, the chop was succulent. It is Drawing-room day. The view in St. James’s-street is charming. What ho, waiter!—draw two chairs to the window: we will view the duchesses and grocers' wives as they proceed to pay their respects to Royalty. The cigar box, two claret glasses filled with crushed ice, a slice of lemon, powdered sugar, and pour Scotch whisky in up to the brim. Wait, wait! O beloved and too thirsty one!—wait till the spirit hath melted the ice; or, by my halidome, thou wilt be borne hence on base shoulders to the nearest station. Now refill with ice, and drink, and be thankful.
I am fortunate in being able at once to draw your attention to a very favourable specimen. Do you see that Jewish-looking individual who has taken up his position at the farther window, where he will remain all the afternoon, to the great delight of the other members, who do not consider him a creditable ornament to the club? When he appeared in the candidates’ book as ‘‘Count Walter de Crécy,” everybody thought he was a distinguished foreigner, especially as he was proposed by a Duke, and seconded by a Viscount. It turned out afterwards that he was the son of old Watercresches, a German-Jew fence, who “melted” for many years, with great success, at the back of a black doll shop in Houndsditch, and subsequently obtained high civic honours. His son, after he left Harrow, was sent abroad for five years with a suitable bear leader, and he returned from Rome with the title you know. Five hundred pounds to Prince Tortoni, and a small gratification to a distinguished personage living not a hundred miles from the Vatican, and his Countship was an accomplished fact. That is his happiness, to be seen sitting in the window of our club for two hours every afternoon during the season. You hardly ever see him speak to anybody except his proposer and seconder—who, they say, from being in pretty stiff with him, didn’t dare refuse putting him up, or to give a gentle hint to a couple of trusty retainers to pill him. He has to put up with brutal remarks and open insults; but we can’t drive him out—he is perfectly pachydermatous. He came up to Puthamdown the other day—he still retains a good deal of his native lisp—
“Thought to have theen your lorthip at Forbannock the other day.”
“No, Count, not likely to see me when you’re there.”
“Moth ecthtrordinary thing—the whole time I woth there, hith Grathe never had a bit of fith put on the table.”
“I suppose you ate it all in the kitchen, Ikey,” said Charley Chaffers.
And all this he will submit to, that he may go and swagger it, at some pothouse to which he belongs, about “ my Club, our Duke,” and so on.
Do you see that good-looking man, about forty, incomparably dressed, who is talking with great deference to Claymore, the rich Midland squire? That is Owen Glendower—oh, of course descended in a direct line—the Lombard-street banker, I who is perfectly ashamed of the shop, and who would barter his till against a peerage. His early struggles were devoted to reach the inner circle of the Upper Ten, and he I has succeeded—how, I don’t know, for he is a consummate ass; and, beyond his good looks and big saucer eyes, doesn’t possess a single merit I w r as once staying at his house in Wales—a gimcrack, sham Gothic affair, all weathercocks and pinnacles—and on one rainy morning, after breakfast, he asked me what I should like to do. It is I who ought to ask to be provided with the amusements I affect for that particular day. I hate its being arranged for me that t am to go hunting when I want to shoot, or go shooting when I want to fish. And therefore I answered, with decision—
“I am going to the smoking-room with a book, where I shall remain till lunch. If it rains, I shall go there after lunch till dinner time.”
“Oh, but just come upstairs for a moment, and let me show you—”
What, do you think? Why, his jewel case, and studs, and fal-lals. Of course, he is very civil to me, because I keep a large account at his bank, chiefly for the sake of
