A DINNER WITH THE " JOLLY OLD BOY."

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 183, 10 August 1871, Page 7

A DINNER WITH THE " JOLLY OLD BOY."

(From "Belgravia.") Mr Joseph Flintoff, head partner in the firm of Flintoff, Parminter, and Scinnum, was a sort of person whom it did you good merely to look at! There was such a jolly twinkle about the old boy's eye, such a rich smile always playing round his mouth, such a deep, luscious, gurgling note in his voice whenever he spoke, that reminded you of a rare port vintage. His gait, his manner, everything about him, seemed to betoken the presence of one of those blessed .creatures who are the salt of the eai'th — utterly careless of himself, and careful only for an opportunity of benefiting his species. He did not do much in the way of active business now did' Mr Joseph ' Flinteff — " old Joey Flintoff," his friends affectionatels usetj to call him. He had worked hard m his time, and., fairly earned his repose. And this repose he enjoyed in the neighbourhood of Clapham, in as snug a country house as any of the Clapham gentry could boast. To see the old fellow coming down by the afternoon train, and smoking one of those excellent cigars which he delighted to give his friends after dinner, beaming a smile of benignity aud satisfaction upon all who entered the carriage, you could not help muttering to yourself, " What ! a jolly old boy!" "

And a jolly old boy ,Mr Joseph Flintoff by universal consent was. If you wanted to see Mr Flintoff under his most favourable aspect — not that any of his aspects were unfavoiuable — you should have dined with him. He was far from being a sort of soulless, mindless old Silenus — very far. On the contrary you had only to talk to him across the walnuts and the wine to discover that Mr Flintoff ' possessed a shrewd head and an uncommonly amazing vein of humour. He would stop you in the street, and say,- " Now then, I've got something that will make you laugh;" and then Mr Flintoff would begin; but before he was well in the middle of his anecdote it would occur to him that he had an engagement close by, aud he must run off to catch it. " But you musn't be done out of this story, my boy, eh?" said Joey F ; " suppose you come down and hear it out at dinner ;" and the old boy pulled himself together and walked off.

Now, when Mi* Flintoff gave you an invitation of this kind, of 00111*86 he meant it. Bless your heart, would it 1 uot 'have Uee'u ai pleasure to him to dine .you every day to die top ofyonr bent? ! it was \ery awkward that he sometimes quite forgot to name a date, and not liking to take him by surprise, you ' thought probably that you would wait till jou met him again in the course of ■ your city rounds, when he would be sure to fix the day and hour for his dinner, -md the continuance of his famous day. " Ah, you dog," Mr FlinI off would playfully observe to you the next time that you came across each other, " Why didn't you come and dine? I suppose your- are afraid to face an old boy's society like mine; but I can promise you a rare bottle of '31 port, and we'll broach a magnum of Lah'tte. Will you come? — now, you must." You were on the' point of accepting, and of even naming a day, when the jolly old boy's attention would suddenly be arrested by a passenger to whom he had to say one word. The one word increased to a dozen, and minutes flew. " Now," he said, turning to you, "I must just finish this business with my friend. Mind you come and dine. I won't take any excuse; no, not a word; come you must." And the jolly old boy walked off, leaving you ' as much in ignorance of day, hour, and perhaps even place, as ever.

Basing their dictum upon such experiences as these, there were some persons who were profane enough to say that the jolly old boy was little, if at all, better than a jolly old humbug, that his dinners were nothing more substantial than Barmecide's feasts, and that his stories were mere shams. They were wrong: Mr. Flintoff did give dinners ; and, as I have already remarked, singularly good ones. "None of your kickshaws for me," said the jolly old boy ; " none, of your badly-made French dishes. You won't get them when you come to my crib ; sound simple fare, and sound wine. I think I can promise ,you that, eh ?" and the old boy's lips would go through the imaginary process of tasting an ideal vintage of Oporto. "Just a plain dinner, you know ; a little clear soup — ctefcr turtle suits this time of year, eh? a nice bit of turbot, just one entree, a well-hung saddle of mutton, and a brown bird." It was a remarkable coincidence, but ■ possibly this happened to be your own idea of a decent little dinner too. "Then I've got a still hocic I ahould like you to try — just laid down twenty dozen 'of it; and with that and the brown •sherry, a bottle or so of the old port, aad, if you like it, the Chambertin, I've no doubt we shall get on. And. — stay — it's bad for digestion moving after dinner; better sleep the night. This was a favourite programme of the jolly old boy's, and you could not but .allow that it was arranged upon sound principles. It was surprising how aneedotical Mr. Flintoff would become ovet the port or the Chambertin. Not that he monopolised the conversation; <m the contrary; he Jiked to' Ivekr hi* friends, indeed encouraged tb3m to talk, to discuss their present, and to canvass their prospects.

Such was Mr. Joseph Flintoff; "a rare good sort. The world wants a few more such," public opinion generally allowed.

Mr. Flintoff, I may as well say, was a widower. It was a good many years ago since his wife bad died. There was a fall-length portrait of her in the dining-room at Clapham ; a gentle delicate-looking young tiling. She had brought him a large marriage portion, and when fate had deprived him of her, the whole of her fortune passed into his hands. Their married life had been short, lasting not more than two or three years ; and, Mr. Flintoff bad not ventured to resume a state of matrimony. He had told me himself that his heart was buried in his poor young wife's grave ; and so no doubt it was. It was generally Btated that Mr. Flintoff had a son, but that he, Flintoff junior, had in some manner or other " gone wrong," and that all intercourse between the parent and child had ceased. At any rate, the jolly old boy never alluded to the subject of his offspring ; and he but seldom reverted to his past life ; neither could it be considered the legitimate business of other people. Christ-mas-day was drawing close, and on Christmas-day Jack Rochester and I were to dine with the jolly old boy at his villa near Clapham.

"Very good of you indeed," Mr. Flintoff had said, when we had accepted his invitation to " cut our turkey with him," as he called it, " very good of you, and very kind to take pity on an old man's solitude ; still, we'll do what we can to tnaVe you snug. Shall we say 6.30, and I'll have rooms ready for both of you ; you, can't go back the same night." " I should liked to have gone down to Strethcaster for Christmas-day," said Jack afterwards to me, thinking of a certain young lady with lojig hair and hazel eyes, " but, please goodness, I shall have my own crib this day next year."

" Never mind," I replied, " we must take the gifts the god» provide, and be thankful for them accordingly ; and I have not the slightest doubt that old Flintoff will make us happy as fighting 1 cocks."

It happened to be a regular oldfashioned style of Christmas-day. There had been snow for two days beforehand, and now a severe frost had set in. We had walked down to Clapham, and were not sorry, I promise you, to see the pleasant gleam of the fire outside the windows of the jolly old boy's villa. Mr. Fliiifcoff was engaged when we were shown in his snugly-furnished and brightly-lit drawing-room, but would.be with us in a few minutes. " J) — n you and Master G-eorge too!" Yes, those were the words we heard quite distinctly. The drawing-room 1 door was left a little bit open, and the voice came from the direction of Mr. FlintofFs study, and it was unmistakably the voice of none other than of the jolly old boy himself. " I'll tolerate no begging. I've done all for you that I can. Because you were my wife's servant, and nursed my son, that's no reason why I should have yon coming here, and begging me" to forgive him and take pity on him, as you call it, and send that stupid, penniless wax doll whom he has made his wife more money. The allowance I make him is enough, quite enough." "0, sir ; and he been so ill, and Mrs. G-eorge just had another baby ! " "If people are fools, Mi's. Jones, their folly "be on their" own head, that's all I have to say ; and if it's my -son who is the fool I don't know that he ■should be any exception to the rule. But I'll have nothing more to say to you ; and don't come as George's ambassadress again. Tell him it's a fool's errand, and be - But here the door slammed, and the jolly old boy entered. '•A merry Christmas to you both, my boys ! " said Mr. Flintoff. " Magnificently seasonable weather ! So good of you to take pity on a lonely old chup like me." We had a capital dinner ; nothing could have been better. After dinner ,the jolly old boy insisted on having the little table close up to the fire with the nuts and the wine. When we looked at the benignant face of Mr. Joseph Flintoff, we felt quite certain it was impossible for such a man to do anything that savoured of harshness to a son of his, supposing him to have one. Our ears must have deceived us, there was no doubt about that. The jolly old boy hard-hearted !— why, the idea was absurd, simply ridiculous ! And so we went on laughing, and chatting, and drinking the old boy's wine and cracking his nuts. " Now," said otir host, " I'm an old man, and you must pardon me if I do an old-fashioned thing. With you young fellows, drinking health has gone out ; but Christmas is an old-fashioned day, and therefore I shall presume upon the period. There's one toast which we ought to drink for your sakes — Happiness and prosperity and luck to both of you ! " And the jolly old boy, so saying, filled a glass of port-and drained it. -'By way of acknowledging the compliment, we did the same. ""Here's another, and the last," said Jack, " which we must all of us drink — -' Absent friends and relations ! ' " And jack ( filled his glass and gave the toast, the jolly old boy arid myself following'his example; and' repeating his words, " Absent' friends and relations."

" Father," said a voice, " will you not speak to me?" We started, and looked round. It was the young man whose voice we heard — tbin, ill-looking, and not overthick ly clad. The jolly old boy turned purple with rage. " George," he said, " d — n you, get out of my sight ! I^l have no more to say to you ; I told the old crone so whom you sent here this afternoon. You've made your bed, and, by God, you shall lie on it ! Get back to your wife, she'll comfort you," shrieked the jolly old boy, positively foaming at the mouth. " Why do you come and intrude yourself where you're not wanted ? " Jack and myself rose to go. The young man stopped us. " Only first hear," said he, " what I bave done to deserve this — how I have been treated — what has been my fault — how miserably I have atoned for my folly. My mother — " There was a gurgling kind of noise. We looked round. The jolly old boy had fallen from his chair in a fit. the excitement had been too much for him. A doctor was sent for, and we left him in his hands. The young man, George Flintoff, watched by his bedside all night. In the morning, when Jack Eocbes--ter called to inquire, he met the medical man, who shook his head. " It's all over. A man of his make and habit could not recover such a shock as he had last night. He was conscious before lie died, and his son never left him. A good young fellow that. De Iforfuls nil nisi bonum, of course ; and nil nisi bomtm will his son say. But he was a hard husband and a cruel, selfish father. He would bave let his son starve like a dog." Such was this jolly old boy in particular. Somehow or other, since then I don't put the same faith which I did in "jolly old boys " in general.