TYLNEY HALL. BY THOMAS HOOD, AUTHOR OF "HOOD'S OWN," ETC. REVISED AND CORRECTED BY THE AUTHOR. NEW EDITION. LONDON: G. ROUTLEDGE & CO., FARRINGDON STREET. NEW YORK: 18, BEEKMAN STREET. INTRODUCTION. I was sitting snugly in my sanctorum, with the remains of a bottle of port wine before me, wherewith, according to custom, I had dismissed a new work from the stocks, when, after a preliminary tap at the door, two strangers presented themselves, and, with much bowing and many invitations, were induced to take chairs on either side of the table. I saw them individually glance at the shallow pool of purple that occupied the bottom of the decanter; and, with my usual sense of the duties of hospitality, before they had done hemming and clearing their throats, preparatory to declaring the purport of their visit, a fresh magnum was glowing through the crystal. Whilst they were enjoying. and commending the raciness of a celebrated vintage, I took the opportunity of scrutinizing my guests; and, certainly, no two human beings could present more essential differences, both in face and figure. One was tall and thin, with a preposterously long body and a lugubrious pale face; whereas the other was short and punchy, with a round, shining, chubby, ruddy countenance, that did not seem to have kept pace with his age, but had remained a boy's head on a man's shoulders. He spoke smartly, with a brisk, merry voice, occasionally breaking into a joyous chuckle, without any apparent cause but the mere exuberance of animal spirits. His companion, on the contrary, had a slow, deep, melancholy drawl, with a touch of the conventicle twang in it, and he indulged in periodical suspirations as regularly recurring as the pattern of an area-railing, ten breathings and then a sigh, ten more and another sigh, and so on. I could hardly help comparing myself, with all due modesty as to talents, to Garrick between Tragedy and Comedy, in the celebrated picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds. One peculiarity forcibly struck my notice; at every sip of his wine the little fellow's eyes brightened and twinkled with greater glee, till every instant I expected he would break out into some lusty carol; whilst the other took great gulps, and at every draught became more dull and dismal; as if he had been swallowing so much ditch-water. Every inch of his face seemed to take an ell, and his voice became proportionately doleful, till at last it fairly tolled like a passing-bell. Both seemed to feel some awkwardness at broaching the subject of their visit; and, after sundry significant nods and winks had been bandied to and fro between |