Transcribed from the 1908 T. N. Foulis edition by StephenRice, email srice01@ibm.net and David Price, email
SOME ROUND-
ABOUT PAPERS
BY
WILLIAM MAKEPEACE
THACKERAY
T. N. FOULIS
13–15 FREDERICK STREET
EDINBURGH: & 23 BEDFORD
STREET, LONDON, W.C.
1908
ON SOME CARP AT SANS SOUCI
We have lately made theacquaintance of an old lady of ninety, who has passed the lasttwenty-five years of her old life in a great metropolitanestablishment, the workhouse, namely, of the parish of SaintLazarus. Stay—twenty-three or four years ago, shecame out once, and thought to earn a little money by hop-picking;but being overworked, and having to lie out at night, she got apalsy which has incapacitated her from all further labour, andhas caused her poor old limbs to shake ever since.
An illustration of that dismal proverb which tells us howpoverty makes us acquainted with strange bed-fellows, this poorold shaking body has to lay herself down every night in herworkhouse bed by the side of some other old woman with whom shemay or may not agree. She herself can’t be a verypleasant bed-fellow, poor thing! with her shaking old limbs andcold feet. She lies awake a deal of the night, to be sure,not thinking of happy old times, for hers never were happy; butsleepless with aches, and agues, and rheumatism of old age. “The gentleman gave me brandy-and-water,” she said,her old voice shaking with rapture at the thought. I neverhad a great love for Queen Charlotte, but I like her better nowfrom what this old lady told me. The Queen, who loved snuffherself, has left a legacy of snuff to certain poorhouses; and,in her watchful nights, this old woman takes a pinch of QueenCharlotte’s snuff, “and it do comfort me, sir, thatit do!” Pulveris exigui munus. Here is aforlorn aged creature, shaking with palsy, with no soul among thegreat struggling multitude of mankind to care for her, not quitetrampled out of life, but past and forgotten in the rush, made alittle happy, and soothed in her hours of unrest by this pennylegacy. Let me think as I write. (The nextmonth’s sermon, thank goodness! is safe to press.) This discourse will appear at the season when I have read thatwassail-bowls make their appearance; at the season of pantomime,turkey and sausages, plum-puddings, jollifications forschoolboys; Christmas bills, and reminiscences more or less sadand sweet for elders. If we oldsters are not merry, weshall be having a semblance of merriment. We shall see theyoung folks laughing round the holly-bush. We shall passthe bottle round cosily as we sit by the fire. That oldthing will have a sort of festival too. Beef, beer, andpudding will be served to her for that day also. Christmasfalls on a Thursday. Friday is the workhouse day for comingout. Mary, remember that old Goody Twoshoes has herinvitation for Friday, 26th December! Ninety is she, poorold soul? Ah! what a bonny face to catch under amistletoe! “Yes, ninety, sir,” she says,“and my mother was a hundred, and my grandmother was ahundred and two.”
Herself ninety, her mother a hundred, her grandmother ahundred and two? What a queer calculation!
Ninety! Very good, granny: you were born, then, in1772.
Your mother, we will say, was twenty