Penny Dreadfuls, 1848 · page 163 of 398
The Mysteries of the Court of London by Pauline Clarendon — page 163: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1848. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
160 LHE COURT OF LONDON sald Lady Letitia; ‘‘ but if you really want some one to spar with you, I don’t mind gratifying you in that way; ” and as she thus spoke, the Amazon threw down her riding- whip, and thrust her hands into a pair of pugilistic gloves. “This is excellent! ’’ cried the prince, leaping from his couch, and putting on the figured silk dressing-gown and the embroidered morocco slippers which the lady had placed within his reach. But while he was thus employed, the huntress had turned her back toward him, inasmuch as she had commenced a regular sparring match with Tim Meagles, who very com- placently allowed her to buffet him about to her heart’s content, though, had he chosen to exercise his skill in the art of seli-defence, she would never have had a chance of even hitting him a single blow. Presently Tim Meagles began to retreat rapidly, then he darted aside with an abrupt movement, then he leaped and capered all about the room in order to weary his fair an- tagonist, both of them highly enjoying the sport, while the Prince of Wales was equally amused as a spectator. At last, the humourous Meagles put an end to the fun by sud- denly dealing Lady Letitia a blow on the forehead, which knocked her flat down upon her back; but she rose laughing heartily, and, throwing aside the gloves, declared that she had had enough of boxing for the present occasion. ‘“ Now we'll take a little drop of brandy, my brave Ama- zonian friend,’ exclaimed Meagles; and filling a couple of wine-glasses, he handed one to Lady Letitia, who tossed off the contents without winking. “ By the bye, I quite forgot you, my dear prince,” observed Tim, turning toward his Royal Highness. ‘Shall I pour out a thimbleful? ” ‘No, not at present, Meagles,’’ was the reply. ‘“‘ I have had my hock and soda-water, and a dram to sink it, and I therefore think that I shall be able to manage very well until after breakfast. But now for my bath,’ added the prince, gathering his ample dressing-gown around his some- what portly form, and descending from the dais. ‘“Tenvy your Royal Highness the possession of a bathing- room contiguous to your sleeping-chamber,” said Lady Letitia. ‘‘ I must positively make Sir John have one fitted up for me,” she added, exchanging a rapid glance of in- telligence with Meagles. (EC@pnyicel exeve) .<S (ele) m