Holiday Romance | Page 3

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Holiday Romance, by Charles Dickens Scanned and proofed by David
Price [email protected]

HOLIDAY ROMANCE - IN FOUR PARTS



PART I - INTRODUCTORY ROMANCE
PROM THE PEN OF WILLIAM

TINKLING,
ESQ. (Aged eight.)

THIS beginning-part is not made out of anybody's head, you know. It's
real. You must believe this beginning-part more than what comes after,
else you won't understand how what comes after came to be written.
You must believe it all; but you must believe this most, please. I am the
editor of it. Bob Redforth (he's my cousin, and shaking the table on
purpose) wanted to be the editor of it; but I said he shouldn't because he
couldn't. HE has no idea of being an editor.
Nettie Ashford is my bride. We were married in the right-hand closet in
the corner of the dancing-school, where first we met, with a ring (a
green one) from Wilkingwater's toy-shop. I owed for it out of my
pocket-money. When the rapturous ceremony was over, we all four
went up the lane and let off a cannon (brought loaded in Bob Redforth's
waistcoat-pocket) to announce our nuptials. It flew right up when it
went off, and turned over. Next day, Lieut.- Col. Robin Redforth was
united, with similar ceremonies, to Alice Rainbird. This time the
cannon burst with a most terrific explosion, and made a puppy bark.
My peerless bride was, at the period of which we now treat, in captivity
at Miss Grimmer's. Drowvey and Grimmer is the partnership, and
opinion is divided which is the greatest beast. The lovely bride of the
colonel was also immured in the dungeons of the same establishment.
A vow was entered into, between the colonel and myself, that we
would cut them out on the following Wednesday when walking two
and two.
Under the desperate circumstances of the case, the active brain of the
colonel, combining with his lawless pursuit (he is a pirate), suggested
an attack with fireworks. This, however, from motives of humanity,
was abandoned as too expensive.
Lightly armed with a paper-knife buttoned up under his jacket, and
waving the dreaded black flag at the end of a cane, the colonel took
command of me at two P.M. on the eventful and appointed day. He had
drawn out the plan of attack on a piece of paper, which was rolled up
round a hoop-stick. He showed it to me. My position and my
full-length portrait (but my real ears don't stick out horizontal) was

behind a corner lamp-post, with written orders to remain there till I
should see Miss Drowvey fall. The Drowvey who was to fall was the
one in spectacles, not the one with the large lavender bonnet. At that
signal I was to rush forth, seize my bride, and fight my way to the lane.
There a junction would be effected between myself and the colonel;
and putting our brides behind us, between ourselves and the palings, we
were to conquer or die.
The enemy appeared, - approached. Waving his black flag, the colonel
attacked. Confusion ensued. Anxiously I awaited my signal; but my
signal came not. So far from falling, the hated Drowvey in spectacles
appeared to me to have muffled the colonel's head in his outlawed
banner, and to be pitching into him with a parasol. The one in the
lavender bonnet also performed prodigies of valour with her fists on his
back. Seeing that all was for the moment lost, I fought my desperate
way hand to hand to the lane. Through taking the back road, I was so
fortunate as to meet nobody, and arrived there uninterrupted.
It seemed an age ere the colonel joined me. He had been to the jobbing
tailor's to be sewn up in several places, and attributed our defeat to