Bad Family & Other Stories

  Limby Lumpy;

  Or, the Boy who was Spoiled by his Mamma[5]

  I

  Limby Lumpy was the only son of his mamma. His father was called the'Pavior's Assistant'; for he was so large and heavy, that when he usedto walk through the streets the men who were ramming the stones downwith a large wooden rammer would say, 'Please to walk over thesestones, sir.' And then the men would get a rest.

  Limby was born on the 1st of April; I do not know how long ago; but,before he came into the world, such preparations were made. There was abeautiful cradle; and a bunch of coral, with bells on it; and lots oflittle caps; and a fine satin hat; and tops and bottoms for pap; and twonurses to take care of him. He was, too, to have a little chaise, whenhe grew big enough; after that, he was to have a donkey, and then apony. In short, he was to have the moon for a plaything, if it could begot; and, as to the stars, he would have had them, if they had not beentoo high to reach.

  Limby made a rare to-do when he was a little baby. But he never was a_little_ baby--he was always a big baby; nay, he was a big baby tillthe day of his death.

  'Baby Big,' his mamma used to call him; he was 'a noble baby,' said hisaunt; he was 'a sweet baby,' said old Mrs. Tomkins, the nurse; he was 'adear baby,' said his papa,--and so he was, for he _cost_ a good deal. Hewas 'a darling baby,' said his aunt, by the mother's side; 'there neverwas such a fine child,' said everybody, before the parents; when theywere at another place they called him 'a great, ugly, fat child.'

  Limby was almost as broad as he was long. He had what some people calledan open countenance; that is, one as broad as a full moon. He had whathis mamma called beautiful auburn locks, but what other people said werecarroty; not before the mother, of course.

  Limby had a flattish nose and a widish mouth, and his eyes were a littleout of the right line. Poor little dear, he could not help that, andtherefore it was not right to laugh at him.

  Everybody, however, laughed to see him eat his pap, for he would not befed with the patent silver pap-spoon which his father bought him; butused to lay himself flat on his back, and seize the pap-boat with bothhands, and never leave go of it till its contents were fairly in hisdear little stomach.

  So Limby grew bigger and bigger every day, till at last he couldscarcely draw his breath, and was very ill; so his mother sent for threeapothecaries and two physicians, who looked at him, and told his mammathere were no hopes: the poor child was dying of over-feeding. Thephysicians, however, prescribed for him--a dose of castor oil.

  His mamma attempted to give him the castor oil; but Limby, although heliked tops and bottoms, and cordial, and pap, and sweetbread, andoysters, and other things nicely dished up, had no fancy for castor oil,and struggled, and kicked, and fought every time his nurse or mammaattempted to give it him.

  'Limby, my darling boy,' said his mamma, 'my sweet cherub, my onlydearest, do take its oily poily--there's a ducky, deary--and it shallride in a coachy poachy.'

  'O! the dear baby,' said the nurse, 'take it for nursey. It will take itfor nursey--that it will.'

  The nurse had got the oil in a silver medicine spoon, so contrived thatif you could get it into the child's mouth the medicine must go down.Limby, however, took care that no spoon should go into his mouth; andwhen the nurse tried the experiment for the nineteenth time, gave aplunge and a kick, and sent the spoon up to the ceiling, knocked offnurse's spectacles, upset the table on which all the bottles and glasseswere, and came down whack on the floor.

  His mother picked him up, clasped him to her breast, and almostsmothered him with kisses. 'O! my dear boy,' said she, 'it shan't takethe nasty oil--it won't take it, the darling; naughty nurse to hurtbaby: it shall not take nasty physic'; and then she kissed him again.

  Poor Limby, although only two years old, knew what he was at--he wastrying to get the master of his mamma; he felt he had gained his point,and gave another kick and a squall, at the same time planted a blow onhis mother's eye.

  'Dear little creature,' said she, 'he is in a state of high convulsionsand fever--he will never recover.'

  But Limby did recover, and in a few days was running about the house,and the master of it; there was nobody to be considered, nobody to beconsulted, nobody to be attended to, but Limby Lumpy.

  II

  Limby grew up big and strong; he had everything his own way. One day,when he was at dinner with his father and mother, perched upon a doublechair, with his silver knife and fork, and silver mug to drink from, heamused himself by playing drums on his plate with the mug.

  'Don't make that noise, Limby, my dear,' said his father. 'Dear littlelamb,' said his mother, 'let him amuse himself. Limby, have some pudding?'

  'No; Limby no pudding'--_drum! drum! drum!_

  A piece of pudding was, however, put on Limby's plate, but he kept ondrumming as before. At last he drummed the bottom of the mug into thesoft pudding, to which it stuck, and by which means it was scattered allover the carpet.

  'Limby, my darling,' said his mother; and the servant was called to wipeLimby's mug and pick the pudding up from the floor. Limby would not havehis mug wiped, and floundered about, and upset the cruet-stand and themustard on the table-cloth.

  'O! Limby Lumpy; naughty boy,' said his father.

  'Don't speak so cross to the child; he is but a child,' said his mother;'I don't like to hear you speak so cross to the child.'

  'I tell you what it is,' said his father, 'I think the boy does as helikes; but I don't want to interfere.'

  Limby now sat still, resolving what to do next. He was not hungry,having been stuffed with a large piece of pound cake about an hourbefore dinner; but he wanted something to do, and could not sit still.

  Presently a saddle of mutton was brought on the table. When Limby sawthis he set up a crow of delight. 'Limby ride,' said he, 'Limby ride';and rose up in his chair, as if to reach the dish.

  'Yes, my ducky, it shall have some mutton,' said his mamma; andimmediately gave him a slice, cut up into small morsels. That was notit. Limby pushed that on the floor, and cried out, 'Limby on meat! Limbyon meat!'

  His mamma could not think what he meant. At last, however, his fatherrecollected that he had been in the habit of giving him a rideoccasionally, first on his foot, sometimes on the scroll end of thesofa, at other times on the top of the easy chair. Once he put him on adog, and more than once on the saddle; in short, he had been in thehabit of perching him on various things; and now Limby, hearing this wasa _saddle_ of mutton, wanted to take a ride on it.

  'Limby on--Limby ride on bone,' said the child, in a whimper.

  'Did you _ever hear_?' said the father.

  'What an extraordinary child!' said the mother; 'how clever to know itwas like a saddle--the little dear. No, no, Limby--grease frock, Limby.'

  But Limby cared nothing about a greasy frock, not he--he was used enoughto that; and therefore roared out more lustily for a ride on the mutton.

  'Did you ever know such a child? What a dear, determined spirit!'

  'He is a child of an uncommon mind,' said his mother. 'Limby,dear--Limby, dear--silence! silence!'

  The truth was, Limby made such a roaring, that neither father normother could get their dinners, and scarcely knew whether they wereeating beef or mutton.

  'It is impossible to let him ride on the mutton,' said his father:'quite impossible!'

  'Well, but you might just put him astride the dish, just to satisfy him;you can take care his legs or clothes do not go into the gravy.'

  'Anything for a quiet life,' said the father. 'What does Limbywant?--Limby ride?'

  'Limby on bone!--Limby on meat!'

  'Shall I put him across?' said Mr. Lumpy.

  'Just for one moment,' said his mamma: 'it won't hurt the mutton.'

  The father rose, and took Limby from his chair, and, with the greatestcaution, held his son's legs astride, so that they might hang on eachside of the dish without touching it; 'just to satisfy him,' as he said,'that they might dine in quiet,' and was about to with
draw him from itimmediately.

  But Limby was not to be cheated in that way, he wished to feel thesaddle _under_ him, and accordingly forced himself down upon it; butfeeling it rather warmer than was agreeable, started, and lost hisbalance, and fell down among the dishes, soused in melted butter,cauliflower, and gravy--floundering, and kicking, and screaming, to thedetriment of glasses, jugs, dishes, and everything else on the table.

  'My child! my child!' said his mamma; 'O! save my child!'

  She snatched him up, and pressed his begreased garments close to thebosom of her best silk gown.

  Neither father nor mother wanted any more dinner after this. As to Limby,he was as frisky afterwards as if nothing had happened; and, about halfan hour from the time of this disaster, _cried for his dinner_.

  [5] This story and the one which follows it are not by Mrs. Fenwick.'Limby Lumpy' is from _The Holiday Book_.