The Book of Snobs | Page 5

if he thought Publicoaler was a fine writer, and drove him from the
Hotel with a four-pronged fork?
CHAPTER I
THE SNOB PLAYFULLY DEALT WITH
There are relative and positive Snobs. I mean by positive, such persons
as are Snobs everywhere, in all companies, from morning till night,
from youth to the grave, being by Nature endowed with
Snobbishness--and others who are Snobs only in certain circumstances
and relations of life.
For instance: I once knew a man who committed before me an act as
atrocious as that which I have indicated in the last chapter as performed
by me for the purpose of disgusting Colonel Snobley; viz, the using the
fork in the guise of a toothpick. I once, I say, knew a man who, dining
in my company at the 'Europa Coffee-house,' (opposite the Grand

Opera, and, as everybody knows, the only decent place for dining at
Naples,) ate peas with the assistance of his knife. He was a person with
whose society I was greatly pleased at first--indeed, we had met in the
crater of Mount Vesuvius, and were subsequently robbed and held to
ransom by brigands in Calabria, which is nothing to the purpose--a man
of great powers, excellent heart, and varied information; but I had never
before seen him with a dish of pease, and his conduct in regard to them
caused me the deepest pain.
After having seen him thus publicly comport himself, but one course
was open to me--to cut his acquaintance. I commissioned a mutual
friend (the Honourable Poly Anthus) to break the matter to this
gentleman as delicately as possible, and to say that painful
circumstances--in nowise affecting Mr. Marrowfat's honour, or my
esteem for him--had occurred, which obliged me to forego my intimacy
with him; and accordingly we met and gave each other the cut direct
that night at the Duchess of Monte Fiasco's ball.
Everybody at Naples remarked the separation of the Damon and
Pythias--indeed, Marrowfat had saved my life more than once--but, as
an English gentleman, what was I to do?
My dear friend was, in this instance, the Snob RELATIVE. It is not
snobbish of persons of rank of any other nation to employ their knife in
the manner alluded to. I have seen Monte Fiasco clean his trencher with
his knife, and every Principe in company doing likewise. I have seen, at
the hospitable board of H.I.H. the Grand Duchess Stephanie of
Baden--(who, if these humble lines should come under her Imperial
eyes, is besought to remember graciously the most devoted of her
servants)--I have seen, I say, the Hereditary Princess of Potztausend-
Donnerwetter (that serenely-beautiful woman) use her knife in lieu of a
fork or spoon; I have seen her almost swallow it, by Jove! like Ramo
Samee, the Indian juggler. And did I blench? Did my estimation for the
Princess diminish? No, lovely Amalia! One of the truest passions that
ever was inspired by woman was raised in this bosom by that lady.
Beautiful one! long, long may the knife carry food to those lips! the
reddest and loveliest in the world!

The cause of my quarrel with Marrowfat I never breathed to mortal
soul for four years. We met in the halls of the aristocracy--our friends
and relatives. We jostled each other in the dance or at the board; but the
estrangement continued, and seemed irrevocable, until the fourth of
June, last year.
We met at Sir George Golloper's. We were placed, he on the right, your
humble servant on the left of the admirable Lady G.. Peas formed part
of the banquet-- ducks and green peas. I trembled as I saw Marrowfat
helped, and turned away sickening, lest I should behold the weapon
darting down his horrid jaws.
What was my astonishment, what my delight, when I saw him use his
fork like any other Christian! He did not administer the cold steel once.
Old times rushed back upon me--the remembrance of old services--his
rescuing me from the brigands--his gallant conduct in the affair with
the Countess Dei Spinachi--his lending me the 1,700L. I almost burst
into tears with joy--my voice trembled with emotion. 'George, my boy!'
I exclaimed, 'George Marrowfat, my dear fellow! a glass of wine!'
Blushing--deeply moved--almost as tremulous as I was myself, George
answered, 'FRANK, SHALL IT BE HOCK OR MADEIRA? I could
have hugged him to my heart but for the presence of the company.
Little did Lady Golloper know what was the cause of the emotion
which sent the duckling I was carving into her ladyship's pink satin lap.
The most good-natured of women pardoned the error, and the butler
removed the bird.
We have been the closest friends over since, nor, of course, has George
repeated his odious habit. He acquired it at a country school, where