SKETCHES BY SEYMOUR

Part 5. 

FISHING FOR WHITING AT MARGATE. 

"Here we go up--up--up;And here we go down--down--down. "

"Variety, " as Cowper says, "is the very spice of life"--and certainly, atMargate, there is enough, in all conscience, to delight the mostfastidious of pleasure-hunters. 

There sailors ply for passengers for a trip in their pleasure boats, setting forth all the tempting delights of a fine breeze--and woe-betidethe unfortunate cockney who gets in the clutches of a pair of plyers ofthis sort, for he becomes as fixed as if he were actually in a vice, frequently making a virtue of necessity, and stepping on board, when hehad much better stroll on land. 

Away he goes, on the wings of the wind, like--a gull! Should he be aknave, it may probably be of infinite service to society, for he islikely ever afterwards to forswear craft of any kind!

Donkies too abound, as they do in most watering placesand, oh! what amany asses have we seen mounted, trotting along the beach and cliffs!

The insinuating address of the boatmen is, however, irresistible; and ifthey cannot induce you to make a sail to catch the wind, they will setforth, in all the glowing colors of a dying dolphin, the pleasurablesport of catching fish!

They tell you of a gentleman, who, "the other day, pulled up, in a singlehour, I don't know how many fish, weighing I don't know how much. " Andthus baited, some unwise gentleman unfortunately nibbles, and he iscaught. A bargain is struck, 'the boat is on the shore, ' the lines andhooks are displayed, and the victim steps in, scarcely conscious of whathe is about, but full well knowing that he is going to sea!

They put out to sea, and casting their baited hooks, the experiencedfisherman soon pulls up a fine lively whiting. 

"Ecod!" exclaims the cockney, with dilated optics, "this is fine--whythat 'ere fish is worth a matter of a shilling in London--Do tell me howyou cotched him. "

"With a hook!" replied the boatman. 

"To be sure you did--but why did'nt he bite mine?"

"'Cause he came t'other side, I s'pose. "

"Vell, let me try that side then, " cries the tyro, and carefully changeshis position. --"Dear me, this here boat o'yourn wobbles about rayther, mister. "

"Nothing, sir, at all; it's only the motion of the water. "

"I don't like it, tho'; I can tell you, it makes me feel all oversomehow. "

"It will go off, sir, in time; there's another, " and he pulls in anotherwriggling fish, and casts him at the bottom of the boat. "Well, that'splaguey tiresome, any how--two! and I've cotched nothin' yet--how do youdo it?"

"Just so--throw in your hook, and bide a bit--and you'll be sure, sir, tofeel when there's any thing on your hook; don't you feel any thing yet?"

"Why, yes, I feels werry unwell!" cries the landsman; and, bringing uphis hook and bait, requests the good-natured boatman to pull for shore, 'like vinkin, '--which request; the obliging fellow immediately complieswith, having agreeably fished at the expense of his fare; and, landinghis whitings and the flat, laughs in his sleeve at the qualms of hiscustomer. 

But there is always an abundant crop of such fools as he, who pretend todabble in a science, in utter ignorance of the elements; while, likeJason of old, the wily boatman finds a sheep with a goldenfleece, --although his brains are always too much on the alert to be whatis technically termed--wool-gathering. Some people are desirous ofseeing every thing; and many landsmen have yet to learn, that they maysee a deal, without being a-board!

ANDREW MULLINS. --AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

CHAPTER I. --Introductory. 

"Let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable for once. "

There is certainly no style of writing requiring so much modest assuranceas autobiography; a position which, I am confident, neither LordCherbury, nor Vidocq, or any other mortal blessed with an equaldevelopement of the organ of self-esteem, can or could deny. 

HOME, ("sweet home, ")--in his Douglas--gives, perhaps, one of the mostconcise and concentrated specimens extant, of this species ofcomposition. With what an imposing air does his youthful hero blow hisown trumpet in those well-known lines, commencing, "My name is Norval. "

Although a mere cock-boat in comparison with these first-rates, I think Imay safely follow in their wake. Should the critics, however, condescendto carp at me for likening myself to a cock-boat, I have no objection, ifby a twist of their ingenuity, they can prove me to be a little funny!

Economy was one of the most prominent characteristics of the family fromwhich I sprang. Now, some authors would weary their indulgent readerswith a flatulent chapter upon the moral beauty of this virtue; but as myfirst wish is to win favor by my candor, I must honestly confess, thatnecessity was the parent of this lean attenuated offspring!--For, alas!

My 'angel mother, ' (as Anna Maria phrases it, ) was a woman of tenthousand, for she dwelt in one of the most populous districts of London!My sire, was of the most noble order of St. Crispin; and though he hadmany faults, was continually mending--being the most eminent cobbler inthe neighbourhood. 

Even in the outset of their connubial partnership, they started under themost favorable auspices--for, whereas other couples marry for love ormoney, they got married for 'nothing' taking advantage of the annualgratuitous splicings performed at Shoreditch Church on one sunshinyEaster Monday. 

In less than three years my amiable mother presented her lord and masterwith as many interesting pledges of their affection--I was the cobbler'slast--and

'Though last, not least, in their dear love. '

CHAPTER II. --Our Lodging. 

Our precarious means were too small to permit us to rent a house, wetherefore rented one large room, which served us for--

"Parlor and kitchen and all!"

in the uppermost story of a house, containing about a dozen families. 

This 'airy' apartment was situated in a narrow alley of greatthoroughfare, in the heart of the great metropolis. 

The lower part of this domicile was occupied by one James, who did'porter's work, ' while his wife superintended the trade of amiscellaneous store, called a green-grocer's; although the stockcomprised, besides a respectable skew of cabbages, carrots, lettuces, andother things in season, a barrel of small beer, a side of bacon, a fewred herrings, a black looking can of 'new milk, ' and those lessperishable articles, Warren's blacking, and Flanders' bricks; while thewindow was graced with a few samples of common confectionary, celebratedunder the sweet names of lollypops, Buonaparte's ribs, and bulls'-eyes. 

In one pane, by permission, was placed the sign board of my honoredparent, informing the reading public, that

'Repairs were neatly executed!'

In my mind's eye how distinctly do I behold that humble shop in all thegreenness and beauty of its Saturday morning's display. 

Nor can I ever forget the kind dumpy motherly Mrs. James, who so oftenpatted my curly head, and presented me with a welcome slice of bread andbutter and a drink of milk, invariably repeating in her homely phrase, "achild and a chicken is al'ays a pickin'"--and declaring her belief, thatthe 'brat' got scarcely enough to "keep life and soul together"--the realtruth of which my craving stomach inwardly testified. 

Talk of the charities of the wealthy, they are as 'airy nothings' in thescale, compared with the unostentatious sympathy of the poor! The formeronly give a portion of their excess, while the latter willingly dividetheir humble crust with a fellow sufferer. 

The agreeable routine of breakfast, dinner, tea, and supper, was unknownin our frugal establishment; if we obtained one good meal a day, underany name, we were truly thankful. 

To give some idea of our straitened circumstances, I must relate onesolitary instance of display on the maternal side. It was on a Saturdaynight, the air and our appetites were equally keen, when my sire, havingunexpectedly touched a small sum, brought home a couple of pound of realEpping. A scream of delight welcomed the savory morsel. 

A fire was kindled, and the meat was presently hissing in the borrowedfrying-pan of our landlady. 

I was already in bed, when the unusual sound and savor awoke me. Irolled out in a twinkling, and squatting on the floor, watched theculinary operations with greedy eyes. 

"Tom, " said my mother, addressing her spouse, "set open the door andvinder, and let the neighbors smell ve has something respectable foronce. "

CHAPTER. III. --On Temperance. 

"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turnher out!"

Armed with the authority and example of loyalty, for even that renownedmonarch--Old King Cole--was diurnally want to call for

"His pipe and his glass"

and induced by the poetical strains of many a bard, from the classicAnacreon to those of more modern times, who have celebrated the virtue of

"Wine, mighty wine!"

it is not to be marvelled at, that men's minds have fallen victims to thefascinations of the juice of the purple grape, or yielded to the alluringtemptations of the 'evil spirit. '

It is a lamentable truth, that notwithstanding the laudable and wholesomeexertions and admonitions of the Temperance and Tee-total Societies, thatthe people of the United Kingdom are grievously addicted to an excessiveimbibation of spirituous liquors, cordials, and compounds. 

Although six-bottle men are now regarded as monstrosities, and drinkingparties are nearly exploded, tippling and dram-drinking among the lowerorders are perhaps more indulged in than ever. 

The gilded and gorgeous temples--devoted to the worship of thereeling-goddess GENEVA--blaze forth in every quarter of the vastmetropolis. 

Is it matter of wonder, then, that while men of superior intellect andeducation are still weak enough to seek excitement in vinous potations, that the vulgar, poor, and destitute, should endeavour to drown theirsorrows by swallowing the liquid fires displayed under various names, bythe wily priests of Silenus!

That such a deduction is illogical we are well aware, but great examplesare plausible excuses to little minds. 

Both my parents were naturally inclined to sobriety; but, unfortunately, and as it too frequently happens, in low and crowded neighbourhoods, drunkenness is as contagious as the small-pox, or any other destructivemalady. 

Now, it chanced that in the first-floor of the house in which we dwelt, there also resided one Stubbs and his wife. They had neither chick norchild. Stubbs was a tailor by trade, and being a first-rate workman, earned weekly a considerable sum; but, like too many of his fraternity, he was seldom sober from Saturday night until Wednesday morning. Hisloving spouse 'rowed in the same boat'--and the 'little green-bottle' wasdispatched several times during the days of their Saturnalia, to bereplenished at the never-failing fountain of the 'Shepherd and Flock. '

Unhappily, in one of her maudlin fits, Mrs. Stubbs took a particularfancy to my mother; and one day, in the absence of the 'ninth, ' beckonedmy unsuspecting parent into her sittingroom, --and after gratuitouslyimparting to her the hum-drum history of her domestic squabbles, invitedher to take a 'drop o' summat'--to keep up her I sperrits. '

Alas! this was the first step--and she went on, and on, and on, untilthat which at first she loathed became no longer disagreeable, and bydegrees grew into a craving that was irresistible;--and, at last, sheregularly hob-and-nobb'd' with the disconsolate rib of Stubbs, and sharedalike in all her troubles and her liquor. 

Fain would I draw a veil over this frailty of my unfortunate parent; but, being conscious that veracity is the very soul and essence of history, Ifeel myself imperatively called upon neither to disguise nor to cancelthe truth. 

My father remonstrated in vain-the passion had already taken too deep ahold; and one day he was suddenly summoned from his work with thestartling information, that 'Mother Mullins'--(so the kind neighbourphrased it) was sitting on the step of a public house, in the suburbs, completely 'tosticated. '

He rushed out, and found the tale too true. A bricklayer in theneighbourhood proposed the loan of his barrow, for the poor senselesscreature could not walk a step. Placing her in the one-wheel-carriage, he made the best of his way home, amid the jeers of the multitude. Moorfields was then only partially covered with houses; and as he passeda deep hollow, on the side of which was placed a notice, intimating that

"RUBBISH MAY BE SHOT HERE!"

his eyes caught the words, and in the bitterness of his heart heexclaimed--

"I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turnher out!"

CHAPTER IV. --A Situation. 

"I say, Jim, what birds are we most like now?" "Why swallows, to besure, "

In the vicinity of our alley were numerous horse-rides, and my chiefdelight was being entrusted with a horse, and galloping up and down thestraw-littered avenue. --I was about twelve years of age, and what wastermed a sharp lad, and I soon became a great favourite with the ostlers, who admired the aptness with which I acquired the language of thestables. 

There were many stock-brokers who put up at the ride; among others wasMr. Timmis--familiarly called long Jim Timmis. He was a bold, dashing, good-humoured, vulgar man, who was quite at home with the ostlers, generally conversing with them in their favourite lingo. 

I had frequent opportunities of shewing him civilities, handing him hiswhip, and holding his stirrup, etc. 

One day he came to the ride in a most amiable and condescending humour, and for the first time deigned to address me--"Whose kid are you?"demanded he. 

"Father's, sir, " I replied. 

"Do you know your father, then?"

"Yes, sir. "

"A wise child this;" and he winked at the ostler, who, of course, laughedincontinently. 

"I want a-lad, " continued he; "what do you say--would you like to serveme?"

"If I could get any thing by it. "

"D-me, if that a'int blunt. "

"Yes, sir; that's what I mean. "

"Mean! mean what?"

"If I could get any blunt, sir. "

Hereupon he laughed outright, at what he considered my readiness, although I merely used the cant term for "money, " to which I was mostaccustomed, from my education among the schoolmasters of the ride. 

"Here, take my card, " said he; "and tell the old codger, your father, tobring you to my office to-morrow morning, at eleven. "

"Well, blow me, " exclaimed my friend the ostler, "if your fortin' arn'tmade; I shall see you a tip-top sawyer--may I never touch another tanner!Vy, I remembers Jim Timmis hisself vos nothin but a grubby boy--MotherTimmis the washer-woman's son, here in what-d've-call-'em-court--ven hevent to old Jarvis fust. He's a prime feller tho', and no mistake--andthof he's no gentleman born, he pays like one, and vot's the difference?"

The next morning, punctual to the hour, I waited at his office, which wasin a large building adjoining the Stock Exchange, as full as a dove-cot, with gentlemen of the same feather. 

"O!" said he, eyeing my parent, "and you're this chap's father, are you?What are you?"

"A boot and shoe-maker, sir; and my Andrew is an honest lad. "

"For the matter o' that, there's little he can prig here;" replied myelegant and intended master. "But his tongs--eh--old fellow--can't yourig him out a little?"

My father pleaded poverty; and at last he bargained to advance a guinea, and deduct it out of my weekly-wages of two and sixpence, and no board. My father was glad to make any terms, and the affair was consequentlysoon arranged. I was quickly fitted out, and the next morning attendedhis orders. 

I had, however, little else to do than wait in his office, and run to theStock Exchange, to summon him when a customer dropped in. I had muchleisure, which I trust was not wholly thrown away, for I practisedwriting on the back of the stock-receipts, of which a quantity hung up inthe office, and read all the books I could lay my hands on; although, Imust confess, the chief portion of my knowledge of the world has beenderived from observation. 

"The proper study of mankind is man. "

Although quick in temper, and rude in speech and manners, Timmis waskind; and, if he had a failing, it was the ambition of being a patron;and he was certainly not one of those who do a good deed, and

"Blush to find it fame. "

He not only employed my father to make his boots, but recommended him toall his friends as a "good-fit, " and procured the old man some excellentcustomers. Among his acquaintance, for he had few friends, was TomWallis, a fat, facetious man, about forty, with whom he was alwayslunching and cracking his jokes. One day, when the stocks were "shut"and business was slack, they started together on a sporting excursiontowards the romantic region of Hornsey-wood, on which occasion I had thehonour of carrying a well-filled basket of provisions, and the inwardsatisfaction of making a good dinner from the remnants. 

They killed nothing but time, yet they were exceedingly merry, especiallyduring the discussion of the provisions. Their laughter, indeed, wasenough to scare all the birds in the neighbourhood. 

"Jim, if you wanted to correct those sheep yonder, " said Tom, "what sortof tool would you use?"

"An ewe-twig, of course, " replied my master. 

"No; that's devilish good, " said Wallis; "but you ain't hit it yet. "

"For a crown you don't do a better?"

"Done!"

"Well, what is it?"

"Why, a Ram-rod to be sure--as we're sportsmen. "

My master agreed that it was more appropriate, and the good-natured TomWallis flung the crown he had won to me. 

"Here's another, " continued he, as Mr. Timmis was just raising a bottleof pale sherry to his lips--"I say, Jim, what birds are we most likenow?"

"Why swallows, to be sure, " quickly replied my patron; who was really, onmost occasions, a match for his croney in the sublime art of punning, andmaking conundrums, a favourite pastime with the wits of the StockExchange. 

CHAPTER V. --The Stalking Horse. 

"Retributive Justice"

On the same landing where Timmis (as he termed it) 'held out, ' were fiveor six closets nick-named offices, and three other boys. One was thenephew of the before-mentioned Wallis, and a very imp of mischief;another, only a boy, with nothing remarkable but his stupidity; while thefourth was a scrubby, stunted, fellow, about sixteen or seventeen yearsof age, with a long pale face, deeply pitted with the small-pox, and anirregular crop of light hair, most unscientifically cut into tufts. 

He, by reason of his seniority and his gravity, soon became the oracle ofthe party. We usually found him seated on the stairs of the first floor, lost in the perusal of some ragged book of the marvellous school--scrapsof which he used to read aloud to us, with more unction than propriety, indulging rather too much in the note of admiration style; for which hesoon obtained the name of Old Emphatic!--But I must confess we did obtaina great deal of information from his select reading, and were tolerablygood listeners too, notwithstanding his peculiar delivery, for somehow heappeared to have a permanent cold in his head, which sometimes threw atone of irresistible ridicule into his most pathetic bits. 

He bore the scriptural name of Matthew and was, as he informed us, a'horphan'--adding, with a particular pathos, 'without father or mother!'His melancholy was, I think, rather attributable to bile thandestitution, which he superinduced by feeding almost entirely on'second-hand pastry, ' purchased from the little Jew-boys, who hawk abouttheir 'tempting' trash in the vicinity of the Bank. 

Matthew, like other youths of a poetical temperament, from Petrarch downto Lord Byron, had a 'passion. '

I accidentally discovered the object of his platonic flame in the personof the little grubby-girl--the servant of the house-keeper--for, as theproverb truly says, "Love and a cough cannot be hid. "

The tender passion first evinced itself in his delicate attentions;--norwas the quick-eyed maid slow to discover her conquest. Her penetration, however, was greater than her sympathy. With a tact that would not havedisgraced a politician--in a better cause, she adroitly turned theswelling current of his love to her own purposes. 

As the onward flowing stream is made to turn the wheel, while the millersings at the window, so did she avail herself of his strength to do herwork, while she gaily hummed a time, and sadly 'hummed' poor Matthew. 

There being nearly thirty offices in the building, there were of coursein winter as many fires, and as many coal-scuttles required. When theeyes of the devoted Matthew gazed on the object of his heart's desiretoiling up the well-stair, he felt he knew not what; and, with a heartpalpitating with the apprehension that his proffered service might berejected (poor deluded mortal!), he begged he might assist her. With aglance that he thought sufficient to ignite the insensible carbon, sheaccepted his offer. Happy Matthew!--he grasped the handles her warmred-hands had touched!--Cold-blooded, unimaginative beings may deride hisenthusiasm; but after all, the sentiment he experienced was similar to, and quite as pure, as that of Tom Jones, when he fondled Sophia Western'slittle muff. 

But, alas!--

"The course of true love never did run smooth. "

Two months after this event, 'his Mary' married the baker's man!--

 * * * * * * * * * *

Wallis's nephew had several times invited me to pay him a visit at hisuncle's house, at Crouchend; and so once, during the absence of thatgentleman who was ruralizing at Tonbridge, I trudged down to his villa. 

Nothing would suit Master John, but that he must 'have out' his uncle'sgun; and we certainly shot at, and frightened, many sparrows. 

He was just pointing at a fresh quarry, when the loud crow of a cockarrested his arm. 

"That's Doddington's game 'un, I know, " said Master John. "What d'yethink--if he did'nt 'pitch into' our 'dunghill' the other day, and laidhim dead at a blow. I owe him one!--Come along. " I followed in hisfootsteps, and soon beheld Chanticleer crowing with all the ostentationof a victor at the hens he had so ruthlessly widowed. A clothes-horse, with a ragged blanket, screened us from his view; and Master'John, putting the muzzle of his gun through a hole in this novel ambuscade, discharged its contents point blank into the proclaimer of the morn--andlaid him low. 

I trembled; for I felt that we had committed a 'foul murder. ' MasterJohnny, however, derided my fears--called it retributive justice--andignominiously consigned the remains of a game-cock to a dunghill!

The affair appeared so like a cowardly assassination, in which I was(though unwillingly--) 'particeps criminis'--that I walked away withoutpartaking of the gooseberry-pie, which he had provided for our supper. 

CHAPTER VI. --A Commission. 

"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the bothuration; if you carry me, don't I carrythe whiskey, sure, and that's fair and aqual!"

I was early at my post on the following morning, being particularlyanxious to meet with Mr. Wallis's scapegrace nephew, and ascertainwhether anybody had found the dead body of the game-cock, and whether aninquest had been held; for I knew enough of the world to draw my ownconclusions as to the result. He, although the principal, being arelative, would get off with a lecture, while I should probably be kickedout of my place. 

In a fever of expectation, I hung over the banisters of the geometricalstaircase, watching for his arrival. 

While I was thus occupied, my nerves "screwed up, "--almost to cracking, Mr. Wallis's office-door was thrown open, and I beheld that verygentleman's round, pleasant physiognomy, embrowned by his travels, staring me full in the face. I really lost my equilibrium at theapparition. 

"Oh!--it's you, is it, " cried he. "Where's my rascal?"

"He's not come yet, sir, " I replied. 

"That fellow's never at hand when I want him--I'll cashier him by ___. "He slammed to his own door, and--opened it again immediately. 

"Timmis come?" demanded he. 

"No, sir; I don't think he'll be here for an hour. "

"True--I'm early in the field; but what brings you here so soon?--somemischief, I suppose. "

"I'm always early, sir, for I live hard by. "

"Ha!--well--I wish--. "

"Can I do anything for you, sir?" I enquired. 

"Why, that's a good thought, " said he, and his countenance assumed itsusually bland expression. "Let me see--I want to send my carpet-bag, anda message, to my housekeeper. "

"I can do it, sir, and be back again in no time, " cried I, elated athaving an opportunity of obliging the man whom I had really some cause tofear, in the critical situation in which his nephew's thoughtlessness hadplaced me. 

In my eagerness, however, and notwithstanding the political acuteness ofmy manoeuvre, I got myself into an awful dilemma. Having received thebag, and his message, I walked off, but had scarcely descended a dozenstairs when he recalled me. 

"Where the devil are you going?" cried he. 

"To your house, sir, " I innocently replied. 

"What, do you know it, then?" demanded he in surprise. 

Here was a position. It was a miracle that I did not roll over thecarpet-bag and break my neck, in the confusion of ideas engendered bythis simple query. 

I could not lie, and evasion was not my forte. A man or boy in the wrongcan never express himself with propriety; an opinion in which Quinctilianalso appears to coincide, when he asserts--

"Orator perfectus nisi vir bonus esse non potest. "

I therefore summoned up sufficient breath and courage to answer him inthe affirmative. 

"And when, pray, were you there?" said he. 

"Yesterday, sir, your nephew asked me to come and see him. "

"The impudent little blackguard?" cried he. 

"I hope you ain't angry, sir?"

"Angry with you?--no, my lad; you're an active little chap, and I wishthat imp of mine would take a pattern by you. Trot along, and mind youhave 'a lift' both ways. "

Off I went, as light as a balloon when the ropes are cut. 

I executed my commission with dispatch, and completely won the favour ofMr. Wallis, by returning the money which he had given me for coach-hire. 

"How's this?--you didn't tramp, did you?" said he. 

"No, sir, I rode both ways, " I replied; "but I knew the coachmen, andthey gave me a cast for nothing. "

"Umph!--well, that's quite proper--quite proper, " said he, considering amoment. "Honesty's the best policy. "

"Father always told me so, sir. "

"Your father's right;--there's half-a-crown for you. "

I was delighted--

"Quantum cedat virtutibus aurum;"

and I felt the truth of this line of Dr. Johnson's, although I was thenignorant of it. I met his nephew on the landing, but my fears hadvanished. We talked, however, of the departed bird, and he wished me, inthe event of discovery, to declare that I had loaded and carried the gun, and that he would bear the rest of the blame. 

This, however, strongly reminded me of the two Irish smugglers:--one hada wooden leg, and carried the cask; while his comrade, who had the use ofboth his pins, bore him upon his shoulders, and, complaining of theweight, the other replied:--"Och! thin, Paddy, what's the bothuration; ifyou carry me, don't I carry the whiskey, sure, and that's fair andaqual!" and I at once declined any such Hibernian partnership in theaffair, quite resolved that he should bear the whole onus upon his ownshoulders. 

CHAPTER, VII. --The Cricket Match

"Out! so don't fatigue yourself, I beg, sir. "

I soon discovered that my conduct had been reported in the mostfavourable colours to Mr. Timmis, and the consequence was that he beganto take more notice of me. 

"Andrew, what sort of a fist can you write?" demanded he. I shewed himsome caligraphic specimens. 

"D___ me, if your y's and your g's hav'nt tails like skippingropes. Wemust have a little topping and tailing here, and I think you'll do. Here, make out this account, and enter it in the book. "

He left me to do his bidding; and when he returned from theStock-Exchange, inspected the performance, which I had executed withperspiring ardour. 

I watched his countenance. "That'll do--you're a brick! I'll make a manof you--d___ me. "

From this day forward I had the honour of keeping his books, and makingout the accounts. I was already a person of importance, and certainlysome steps above the boys on the landing. 

I did not, however, obtain any advance in my weekly wages; but on"good-days" got a douceur, varying from half a crown to half a sovereign!and looked upon myself as a made man. Most of the receipts went to myfather; whatever he returned to me I spent at a neighbouring book-stall, and in the course of twelve months I possessed a library of most amusingand instructive literature, --Heaven knows! of a most miscellaneouscharacter, for I had no one to guide me in the selection. 

Among Mr. Timmis's numerous clients, was one Mr. Cornelius Crobble, a manof most extraordinary dimensions; he was also a "chum" of, and frequentlymade one of a party with, his friend Mr. Wallis, and other croneys, towhite-bait dinners at Blackwall, and other intellectual banquets. Infact, he seldom made his appearance at the office, but the visit ended inan engagement to dine at some "crack-house" or other. The cost of the"feed, " as Mr. Timmis termed it, was generally decided by a toss of "besttwo and three;" and somehow it invariably happened that Mr. Crobble lost;but he was so good-humoured, that really it was a pleasure, as Mr. Wallissaid, to "grub" at his expense. 

They nick-named him Maximo Rotundo--and he well deserved the title. 

"Where's Timmis?" said he, one day after he had taken a seat, and puffedand blowed for the space of five minutes--"Cuss them stairs; they'll bethe death o' me. "

I ran to summon my master. 

"How are you, old fellow?" demanded Mr. Timmis; "tip us your fin. "

"Queer!" replied Mr. Crobble, --tapping his breast gently with his fatfist, and puffing out his cheeks--to indicate that his lungs weredisordered. 

"What, bellows to mend?" cried my accomplished patron-- D___ me, neversay die!"

"Just come from Doctor Sprawles: says I must take exercise; no maltliquor--nothing at breakfast--no lunch--no supper. "

"Why, you'll be a skeleton--a transfer from the consolidated to thereduced in no time, " exclaimed Mr. Timmis; and his friend joined in thelaugh. 

"I was a-thinking, Timmis--don't you belong to a cricketclub?"

"To be sure. "

--"Of joining you. "

"That's the ticket, " cried Timmis--"consider yourself elected; I cancarry any thing there. I'm quite the cock of the walk, and no mistake. Next Thursday's a field-day--I'll introduce you. Lord! you'll soon beright as a trivet. "

Mr Wallis was summoned, and the affair was soon arranged; and I had thegratification of being present at Mr. Crobble's inauguration. 

It was a broiling day, and there was a full field; but he conductedhimself manfully, notwithstanding the jokes of the club. He battedexceedingly well, "considering, " as Mr. Wallis remarked; but as for the"runs, " he was completely at fault. 

He only attempted it once; but before he had advanced a yard or two, theball was caught; and the agile player, striking the wicket with ease, exclaimed, amid the laughter of the spectators--"Out! so don't fatigueyourself, I beg, sir. "

And so the match was concluded, amid cheers and shouting, in which therotund, good-natured novice joined most heartily. 

CHAPTER VIII. --The Hunter. 

"Hunting may be sport, says I, but I'm blest if its pleasure. "

Two days after the cricket-match, Mr. Crobble paid a visit to my master. 

"Well, old fellow, d___ me me, if you ain't a trump--how's your wind?"--kindly enquired Mr. Timmis. 

"Vastly better, thank'ye; how's Wallis and the other fellows?--primesport that cricketing. "

"Yes; but, I say, you'll never have 'a run' of luck, if you stick to thewicket so. "

"True; but I made a hit or two, you must allow, " replied Mr. Crobble;"though I'm afraid I'm a sorry member. "

"A member, indeed!--no, no; you're the body, and we're the--members, "replied Mr. Timmis, laughing; "but, halloo! what's that patch on yourforehead--bin a fighting?"

"No; but I've been a hunting, " said Mr. Crobble, "and this here's thefruits--You know my gray?"

"The nag you swopp'd the bay roadster for with Tom Brown?"

"Him, " answered Crobble. "Well, I took him to Hertfordshire Wednesdaylast--"

"He took you, you mean. "

"Well, what's the odds?"

"The odds, why, in your favour, to be sure, as I dare say the horse canwitness. "

"Well, howsomever, there was a good field--and off we went. The levelcountry was all prime; but he took a hedge, and nearly julked all thelife out o' me. I lost my stirrup, and should have lost my seat, had'ntI clutched his mane--"

"And kept your seat by main force?"

"Very good. "

"Well, away we went, like Johnny Gilpin. Hunting may be sport, says I, but I'm blest if its pleasure. This infernal horse was always fond ofshying, and now he's going to shy me off; and, ecod! no sooner said thandone. Over his head I go, like a rocket. "

"Like a foot-ball, you mean, " interrupted Mr. Timmis. 

"And, as luck would have it, tumbles into a ditch, plump with my headagin the bank. "

"By jingo! such a 'run' upon the bank was enough to break it, " cried mymaster, whose propensity to crack a joke overcame all feeling of sympathyfor his friend. 

"It broke my head though; and warn't I in a precious mess--that's all--upto my neck, and no mistake--and black as a chimney-sweep--such mud!"

"And only think of a man of your property investing his substance in mud!That is a good 'un!--Andrew, " said he, "tell Wally to come here. " Isummoned his crony, and sat myself down to the books, to enjoy thesportive sallies of the two friends, who roasted the 'fat buck, ' theirloving companion, most unmercifully. 

"You sly old badger, " cried Wallis, "why, you must have picked out theditch. "

"No, but they picked out me, and a precious figure I cut--I can tell you--I was dripping from top to toe. "

"Very like dripping, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, eyeing his fatfriend, and bursting into an immoderate fit of laughter. The meetingended, as usual, with a bet for a dinner at the "Plough" for themselvesand their friends, which Mr. Crobble lost--as usual. 

CHAPTER IX. --A Row to Blackwall. 

'To be sold, warranted sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady;likewise a bay-cob, quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady'

Steam-boats did not run to Greenwich and Blackwall at this period; andthose who resorted to the white-bait establishments at those places, either availed themselves of a coach or a boat. Being now transformed, by a little personal merit, and a great favour, from a full-grownerrand-boy to a small clerk, Mr. Timmis, at the suggestion of my goodfriend Mr. Wallis, offered me, as a treat, a row in the boat they hadengaged for the occasion; which, as a matter of course, I did not refuse:making myself as spruce as my limited wardrobe would permit, I trotted attheir heels to the foot of London-bridge, the point of embarkation. 

The party, including the boatman, consisted of eight souls; the tide wasin our favour, and away we went, as merry a company as ever floated onthe bosom of Father Thames. Mr. Crobble was the chief mark for all theirsallies, and indeed he really appeared, from his size, to have beenintended by Nature for a "butt, " as Mr. Wallis wickedly remarked. 

"You told, me, Crobble, of your hunting exploit in Hertfordshire, " saidMr. Wallis; "I'll tell you something as bangs that hollow; I'm sure Ithought I should have split with laughter when I heard of it. You knowthe old frump, my Aunt Betty, Timmis?"

"To be sure--she with the ten thousand in the threes, " replied Mr. Timmis; "a worthy creature; and I'm sure you admire her principal. "

"Don't I, " cried Wallis; and he winked significantly at his friend. 

"Well, what d'ye think; she, and Miss Scragg, her toady, were in thecountry t'other day, and must needs amuse themselves in an airing upon acouple of prads. 

"Well; they were cantering along--doing the handsome--and had just cometo the border of a pond, when a donkey pops his innocent nose over afence in their rear, and began to heehaw' in a most melodious strain. The nags pricked up their ears in a twinkling, and made no more ado butbolted. Poor aunty tugged! but all in vain; her bay-cob ran into thewater; and she lost both her presence of mind and her seat, and plumpedswash into the pond--her riding habit spreading out into a beautifulcircle--while she lay squalling and bawling out in the centre, like alittle piece of beef in the middle of a large batter-pudding! MissScragg, meanwhile, stuck to her graymare, and went bumping along to theadmiration of all beholders, and was soon out of sight: luckily a joskin, who witnessed my dear aunt's immersion, ran to her assistance, and, withthe help of his pitch-fork, safely landed her; for unfortunately the pondwas not above three or four feet deep! and so she missed the chance ofbeing an angel!"

"And you the transfer of her threes!--what a pity!" said the sympathizingMr. Timmis. 

"When I heard of the accident, of course, as in duty bound, I wrote ananxious letter of affectionate enquiry and condolence. At the sameperiod, seeing an advertisement in the Times--'To be sold, warrantedsound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady; likewise a bay-cob, quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady'--I was so tickled withthe co-incidence, that I cut it out, and sent it to her in an envelope. "

"Prime! by Jove!"--shouted Mr. Crobble--"But, I say, Wallis--you shouldhave sent her a 'duck' too, as a symbolical memorial of her accident!"

CHAPTER X. --The Pic-Nic. 

--had just spread out their prog on a clean table-cloth, when they werealarmed by the approach of a cow. 

"People should never undertake to do a thing they don't perfectlyunderstand, " remarked Mr. Crobble, "they're sure to make fools o'themselves in the end. There's Tom Davis, (you know Tom Davis?) he'salways putting his notions into people's heads, and turning the laughagainst 'em. If there's a ditch in the way, he's sure to dare some ofhis companions to leap it, before he overs it himself; if he finds itsafe, away he springs like a greyhound. "

"Exactly him, I know him, " replied Mr. Timmis; "that's what he callslearning to shave upon other people's chins!"

"Excellent!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis. 

"He's a very devil, " continued Mr. Crobble; "always proposing some fun orother: Pic-nics are his delight; but he always leaves others to bring thegrub, and brings nothing but himself. I hate Pic-nics, squatting in thegrass don't suit me at all; when once down, I find it no easy matter toget up again, I can tell you. "

Hereupon there was a general laugh. 

"Talking of Pic-nics, " said Mr. Timmis. "reminds me of one that was heldthe other day in a meadow, on the banks of the Lea. The party, consisting of ladies only, and a little boy, had just spread out theirprog on a clean table-cloth, when they were alarmed by the approach of acow. They were presently on their pins, (cow'd, of course, ) and sheeredoff to a respectful distance, while the cow walked leisurely over thetable-cloth, smelling the materials of the feast, and popp'd her clovenfoot plump into a currant and raspberry pie! and they had a precious dealof trouble to draw her off; for, as Tom Davis said, there were someveal-patties there, which were, no doubt, made out of one of her calves;and in her maternal solicitude, she completely demolished the plates anddishes, leaving the affrighted party nothing more than the brokenvictuals. "

"What a lark!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I would have given a guinea tohave witnessed the fun. That cow was a trojan!"

"A star in the milky way, " cried Mr. Wallis. 

We now approached the 'Plough;' and Mr. Crobble having 'satisfied' theboatman, Mr. Wallis gave me half-a-crown, and bade me make the best of myway home. I pocketed the money, and resolved to 'go on the highway, ' andtrudge on foot. 

"Andrew, " said my worthy patron, "now don't go and make a beast ofyourself, but walk straight home. "

"Andrew, " said Mr. Wallis, imitating his friend's tone of admonition; "ifany body asks you to treat 'em, bolt; if any body offers to treat you, retreat!"

"Andrew, " said Mr. Crobble, who was determined to put in his oar, and rowin the same boat as his friends; "Andrew, "--"Yes, Sir;" and I touched myhat with due respect, while his two friends bent forward to catch hiswords. "Andrew, " repeated he, for the third time, "avoid evilcommunication, and get thee gone from Blackwall, as fast as your legs cancarry you--for, there's villainous bad company just landed here--wickedenough to spoil even the immaculate Mr. Cornelius Crobble!"

CHAPTER XI. --The Journey Home. 

"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"--"Aye, aye-starboard it is!"

I found myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master andhis friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming withjack-tars. 

Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reachedPoplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all movedwith extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of theirmirth. Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steeringfor Blackwall. A large horse-cloth served them as a substitute for asaddle, and the merry fellow behind held the reins; he was smoking ashort pipe, while his mate was making an observation with his spy-glass. 

"Starboard, Tom, starboard!" cried the one in front. 

"Aye, aye-starboard it is!" replied his companion, tugging at the rein. 

"Holloo, messmate! where are you bound?" bawled a sailor in the crowd. 

"To the port o' Blackwall, " replied the steersman. "But we're goingquite in the wind's eye, and I'm afeared we shan't make it to-night. "

"A queer craft. "

"Werry, " replied Tom. "Don't answer the helm at all. "

"Any grog on board?" demanded the sailor. 

"Not enough to wet the boatswain's whistle; for, da'e see, mate, there'sno room for stowage. "

"Shiver my timbers!--no grog!" exclaimed the other; "why--you'll founder. If you don't splice the main-brace, you'll not make a knot an hour. Heave to--and let's drink success to the voyage. "

"With all my heart, mate, for I'm precious krank with tacking. Larboard, Tom--larboard. "

"Aye, aye--larboard it is. "

"Now, run her right into that 'ere spirit-shop to leeward, and let's havea bowl. "

Tom tugged away, and soon "brought up" at the door of a wine-vaults. 

"Let go the anchor, " exclaimed his messmate--"that's it--coil up. "

"Here, mate--here's a picter of his royal majesty"--giving the sailoralongside a new guinea--"and now tell the steward to mix us a jorum asstiff as a nor'wester, and, let's all drink the King's health--God blesshim. "

"Hooray!" shouted the delighted mob. 

Their quondam friend soon did his bidding, bringing out a huge china-bowlfilled with grog, which was handed round to every soul within reach, andpresently dispatched;--two others followed, before they "weighed anchorand proceeded on their voyage, " cheered by the ragged multitude, amongwhom they lavishly scattered their change; and a most riotous andridiculous scramble it produced. 

I was much pleased with the novelty of the scene, and escaped from thecrowd as quickly as I conveniently could, for I was rather apprehensiveof an attempt upon my pockets. 

What strange beings are these sailors! They have no care for the morrow, but spend lavishly the hard-earned wages of their adventurous life. Toone like myself, who early knew the value of money, this thoughtlessextravagance certainly appeared unaccountable, and nearly allied tomadness; but, when I reflected that they are sometimes imprisoned in aship for years, without touching land, and frequently in peril of losingtheir lives--that they have scarcely time to scatter their wages andprize-money in the short intervals which chance offers them of mixingwith their fellow-men, my wonder changed to pity. 

"A man in a ship, " says Dr. Johnson, "is worse than a man in a jail; forthe latter has more room, better food, and commonly better company, andis in safety. "

CHAPTER XII. --Monsieur Dubois. 

"I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it's wulgar!--but if he's a mind toanything like a gemman, here's my card!"

The love-lorn Matthew had departed, no doubt unable to bear the sight ofthat staircase whose boards no longer resounded with the slip-slap of theslippers of that hypocritical beauty, "his Mary. " With him, the romanceof the landing-place, and the squad, had evaporated; and I had nosympathies, no pursuits, in common with the remaining "boys"--mynewly-acquired post, too, nearly occupied the whole of my time, while mydesire of study increased with the acquisition of books, in which all mypocket-money was expended. 

One day, my good friend, Mr. Wallis, entered the office, followed by ashort, sharp-visaged man, with a sallow complexion; he was dressed in ashabby frock, buttoned up to the throat--a rusty black silk neckerchiefsupplying the place of shirt and collar. 

He stood just within the threshold of the door, holding his napless hatin his hand. 

"Well, Wally, my buck, " cried my master, extending his hand. 

Mr. Wallis advanced close to his elbow, and spoke in a whisper; but Iobserved, by the direction of his eyes, that the subject of hiscommunication was the stranger. 

"Ha!" said Mr. Timmis, "it's all very well, Walley--but I hate allforriners;--why don't he go back to Frogland, and not come here, palminghimself upon us. It's no go--not a scuddick. They're all a parcel o'humbugs--and no mistake!"

As he uttered this gracious opinion sufficiently loud to strike upon thetympanum of the poor fellow at the door, I could perceive his dark eyesglisten, and the blood tinge his woe-begone cheeks; his lips trembledwith emotion: there was an evident struggle between offended gentility, and urgent necessity. 

Pride, however, gained the mastery; and advancing the right foot, heraised his hat, and with peculiar grace bowing to the twofriends--"Pardon, Monsieur Vallis, " said he, in tremulous accents, "I am'de trop;' permit, me to visdraw"--and instantly left the office. 

Mr. Timmis, startled by his sudden exit, looked at Mr. Wallis for anexplanation. 

"By ___!" exclaimed Mr. Wallis seriously-- "you've hurt that poor fellow'sfeelings. I would sooner have given a guinea than he should have heardyou. Dubois is a gentleman; and altho' he's completely 'stumped, ' andhas'nt a place to put his head in, he's tenacious of that respect whichis due to every man, whether he happens to be at a premium, or adiscount. "

"Go it!" cried Mr. Timmis, colouring deeply at this merited reproof--"Ifthis ain't a reg'lar sermon! I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, d___me; I'm a reg'lar John Bull, and he should know better than to be poppedat my bluntness. D___ me, I wouldn't hurt a worm--you know I wouldn't, Wallis. "

There was a tone of contrition in this rambling apology that satisfiedMr. Wallis of its truth; and he immediately entered into an explanationon the Frenchman's situation. He had known him, he said, for severalyears as a tutor in the family of one of his clients, by whom he was muchrespected: a heavy loss had compelled them suddenly to reduce theirestablishment; Dubois had entreated to remain with his pupil--refused toreceive any salary--and had even served his old patron in the capacity ofa menial, adhering to him in all his misfortunes, and only parted withhim, reluctantly, at the door of the debtor's prison!

"Did he do that?" said my master; and I saw his eyes moisten at therelation. "A French mounseer do that! Game--d___ me!"--and lifting thelid of his desk, he drew out a five pound note! "Here, Wallis, tip himthis flimsey! Tell him--you know what to say--I'm no speechifier--butyou know what I mean. " I almost jumped up and hugged my master, I was soexcited. 

The next day Monsieur Dubois again made his appearance; and Mr. Wallishad the pleasure of beholding Mr. Timmis and his gallic friend on thebest terms imaginable. 

As for me, I had good cause to rejoice; for it was agreed that I shouldtake lessons in the "foreign lingo, " by way of giving him "a lift, " asMr. Timmis expressed it. I remember him with feelings of gratitude; forI owe much more than the knowledge of the language to his kindness andinstruction. 

As for Mr. Timmis, he could never sufficiently appreciate his worth, although he uniformly treated him with kindness. 

"Talk of refinement, " said he, one day, when discussing Dubois' meritswith Mr. Wallis; "I saw a bit to-day as bangs everything. A cadgersweeping a crossing fell out with a dustman. Wasn't there some spicy jawbetwixt 'em. Well, nothing would suit, but the dustman must have a go, and pitch into the cadger. 

"D___ me, what does the cove do, but he outs with a bit of dirtypasteboard, and he says, says he, "I sha'nt fight with fistesses, it'swulgar!--but if he's a mind to anything like a gemman, here's my card!"Wasn't there a roar! I lugg'd out a bob, and flung it at the vagabondfor his wit. "

CHAPTER XIII. --My Talent Called into Active Service. 

"Ar'n't you glad you ain't a black-a-moor?"

"I should think so, " replied his sooty brother, "they're sich uglywarmints. "

Having to deliver a letter, containing an account and a stock receipt, to one of Mr. Timmis's clients, residing at the west end of the town; incrossing through one of the fashionable squares, I observed a flat-facednegro servant in livery, standing at the door of one of the houses. 

Two chimney sweepers who happened to be passing, showed their white teethin a contemptuous grin at the African. 

"Bob, " I overheard one remark, "ar'n't you glad you ain't ablack-a-moor?"

"I should think so, " replied his sooty brother, "they're sich uglywarmints. Master's daughter, wots come from boarding school! says thesight of 'ems' enough to frighten one into conwulsions!"

Alas! for the prejudice of the world! How much this ignorant remarkreminded me of my patron's unfounded hatred of all "forriners. " It wasprecisely the same sentiment, differently expressed, that actuated thethoughts and opinions of both. 

I must, however, do Mr. Timmis the justice to say, that he made ampleamends to Monsieur Dubois for the affront he had so thoughtlessly putupon the worthy Frenchman; and did all in his power to obtain him pupils. 

The consequent change in his dress and manner, his amiable conduct, andgentlemanly deportment, at last completely won upon the esteem of theboisterous broker, who swore, (for that was generally his elegant mannerof expressing his sincerity) that Dubois was a 'downright good'un;' andwere it not for his foreign accent, he should have taken him for anEnglishman born--really believing, that there was no virtue in the worldbut of English growth. 

I had now been above twelve-months in his office, and although I hadreceived but a moderate compensation for my services, yet the vastimprovement I had made (thanks to the instruction of Monsieur Dubois, )was more valuable than gold. My father also, though but scantilyfurnished with book-knowledge, had, nevertheless, the good sense toappreciate and encourage my progress; he was well aware, fromobservation, that 'knowledge is power, ' and would frequently quote theold saw, "When house, and land, and money's spent;Then larning is most excellent"--

and spared all the money he could scrape together to purchase books forme. 

One day Mr. Crobble came into the office with an open letter in his hand. "Here, "--cried he, "I've received a remittance at last from that, Germanfellow--two good bills on the first house in the city--but I can't maketop nor tail of his rigmarole. Do you know any chap among youracquaintance who can read German?"

"Not I, " replied Mr. Timmis. 

"Will you allow me, Mr. Crobble?" said I, stepping forward. "This letteris written in French, not German, Sir, " I observed. 

"What's the difference to me, Master Andrew; it might as well be in wildIrish, for the matter o' that. "

"Andrew can read the lingo, " said my master. 

"The devil he can!" exclaimed Mr. Crobble; "I dare say I shall be able tomake it out, " said I; "and if not, Monsieur Dubois will be here;to-morrow morning, and you can have it by twelve o'clock, sir. "

"Ain't that the ticket?" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, delighted at the surpriseof his friend; "you don't know how vastly clever we are, old fellow. "

Mr. Crobble, much gratified at this information, placed the letter in myhands; and, leaving me to take a lunch at Garraway's with Mr. Timmis, Ieagerly sat about my task--and luckily it was not only plainly written, but the subject-matter by no means difficult, being rather complimentarythan technical. By the time they returned, I had not only translated, but made a fair copy of it, in my best hand. 

"Come, that is clever, " said Mr. Crobble; "let me see, now, what shall Igive you?"

"Nothing, Sir, " I promptly replied; "I am Mr. Timmis's clerk--and allthat I know I owe to his kindness. "

I saw, with pleasure, that this compliment was not lost upon my master. 

Mr. Crobble was really a gentleman in feeling, and therefore did notpersist in offering me any remuneration; but as he left the office, hesaid, "I thank you, Mr. Andrew--I shall not forget your services;" anddeparted evidently much pleased with my performance. 

CHAPTER XIV. --A Dilemma. 

"EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates, "

"Well, can we go forward, then?"--"Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads areunder water;"

"EE cawnt gow back, 'cause they locks the gates, " said a bumpkin on theroad-side to a Cockney-party in a one-horse chaise. 

"Well, can we go forward, then?" demanded the anxious and weariedtraveller. 

"Noa, ee cawnt, 'cause the roads are under water;" replied the joskin, with a grin. 

This was certainly a situation more ridiculous than interesting; and Ismiled when I heard the story told, little suspecting that Fortune wouldone day throw me into a similar dilemina--so blindly do we mortals hugourselves in the supposed security of our tact and foresight. 

"How d'ye do, Mr. Andrew, " said Mr. Crobble, when he had seated himself, and sufficiently inflated his lungs, after the fatiguing operation ofmounting the stairs. 

"Where's Timmis?--tell him I want a word with him. "

I quickly summoned my patron, and followed him into the office. 

"Well, old puff and blow!" exclaimed Mr. Timmis, with his usualfamiliarity. 

"What's in the wind? Want to sell out? The fives are fallen three percent. Since Friday. All the 'Change is as busy as the devil in a highwind. "

"No--no more dabbling, Timmis, " replied Mr. Crobble; "I lost a coolhundred last account; I want a word in private with you"--and he glancedtowards me; upon which I seized my hat, and took up my position at my oldpost on the landing. How were my feelings altered since I first loiteredthere, listening to the marvels of poor Matthew!

I was lost in a pleasant reverie, when the sharp voice of Mr. Timmisrecalled me. 

"Andrew, " said he, "my friend Crobble wants a clerk, and has cast his eyeupon you. What do you say?"

I scarcely knew what to say. On one side stood my master, to whom Ireally owed so much--on the other his friend, who offered me a promotion, which I felt, on many accounts, was most attractive. "I should have noobjection, " I replied, "but great pleasure in serving Mr. Crobble, sir--but--I have received so many favours from you, that I'm afraid Imight seem ungrateful. "

The good-natured Mr. Wallis happily stepped in at this moment to myrelief. 

"Nonsense, " replied Mr. Timmis; "the stock is delivered to the highestbidder; here Crobble backs eighteen shillings a week against myhalf-a-crown-take him. "

I still felt some hesitation, although it was evident, from hisexpression, that Mr. Timmis valued the servant much less than the servantvalued the master. 

"Only look here, Wally, " cried he; "here stands Andrew, like an assbetween two bundles of hay. "

"Rather like a bundle of hay between two asses, I think, " replied Mr. Wallis; and good-naturedly tapping me on the shoulder, he continued--"accept Mr. Crobble's offer, Master Andrew: you're much too good forTimmis--he can soon get a grubby half-crown boy--but you may wait a longtime for such an eligible offer. "

"Eighteen shillings a week, " said Mr. Crobble; who, I must confess, without any particular stretch of self-esteem, appeared anxious to engageme--, "but I shall want security. "

That word "security" fell like an avalanche on my mounting spirit, andcast me headlong down the imaginary ascent my busy thoughts had climbedto!

"Five hundred pounds, " continued Mr. Crobble; "d'ye think--have you anyfriends?"

"None, sir; my father is a poor man, and quite unable. " I could scarcelyspeak--like the driver of the one-horse chaise, I could neither advancenor recede. 

"The father, " said Mr. Timmis, "is only a poor shoe-maker--a good fellowtho'--an excellent fit!"

"You mean to say, " cried Mr. Wallis, "it were bootless to seek securityof the shoe-maker. "

A laugh ensued; and, notwithstanding my agitated feelings, I could notforbear being tickled by Mr. Wallis's humour, and joining in themerriment. 

This sally gave a most favourable turn to the discussion. "Come, " saidMr. Wallis, "I'll stand two hundred and fifty--and you, Timmis, must gothe other. "

"No; d___ me, he may bolt with the cash-box, and let me in, perhaps, "exclaimed Mr. Timmis. I burst into tears; I felt, that from my long andfaithful services, I deserved a better opinion--although I had no rightto expect so great a favour. 

Rude as he was, he felt some compunction at having wounded my feelings;and swore a round oath that he was only joking, and I was a fool. "Did Ithink, for a moment, that Wally should get the start of him; no--I was anhonest chap, and he'd put his fist to double the amount to serve me;" andthen bade me "sit to the books, " and make all square before I cut mystick: and thus happily concluded this most momentous change in mycircumstances. 

CHAPTER XV. --An Old Acquaintance. 

"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glass says 'verywet;'--I can't bear it--I can't--and I won't. "

How impatiently did I count the minutes 'till the office was closed, forI longed to communicate the glad tidings of my good fortune to my worthyfather. The old man wept with joy at the prospect, and assisted me inrearing those beautiful fabrics termed castles in the air. 

His own trade, by the recommendation of the rough, ill-mannered, butgood-natured Mr. Timmis, had wonderfully increased; and, by making sometemporary sacrifices, he was enabled to give me an appearance moresuitable to the new position in which I was so unexpectedly placed. In anarrow alley, on the south side of the Royal Exchange, on theground-floor, I found the counting-house of Mr. Crobble. Under hisdirections, I quickly made myself master of the details of the business. Alas! it was but the slender fragment of a once flourishing mercantilehouse, of which time had gradually lopped off the correspondents, whilsthis own inertness had not supplied the deficiency by a new connexion; forhis father had left him such an ample fortune, that he was almostcareless of the pursuit, although he could not make up his mind, as hesaid, to abandon the "old shop, " where his present independence had beenaccumulated. I consequently found plenty of leisure, uninterrupted bythe continual hurry and bustle of a broker's office, to pursue myfavourite studies, and went on, not only to the entire satisfaction ofMr. Crobble, but to my own, and really began to find myself a man of someimportance. 

In the course of business, I one day fell in with an old acquaintance. 

"A parcel for Cornelius Crobble, Esq. , " said a little porter, of thatpeculiar stamp which is seen hanging about coach-offices--"Twoand-sixpence. "

I looked at the direction, and drew out the "petty cash" to defray thedemand; when, then, first looking at the man, I thought I recognised hisfeatures. 

"What!" cried I, "Isn't your name--"

"Matthew, " answered he quickly. 

"Matthew!--why, don't you know me?"

"No, sir, " replied he, staring vacantly at me. 

"Indeed!--Have I so outgrown all knowledge? Don't you recollect AndrewMullins?"

"Good heavins!" exclaimed he, with his well-remembered nasal twang; "areyou--"

"Yes. "

"Well, I declare now you've growed into a gentleman. I should'nt--Ireally should'nt--" He did not say what he really "should not"--butextended his hand. --"Hope you ain't too proud to shake hands with an oldfriend?--"

I shook him heartily by the hand, and made some enquiries touching hishistory. 

Poor Matthew seated himself with all the ease imaginable, and laid hisknot beside him, and began, after the manner of his favourite heroes, to"unbosom himself. "

"You've a father, " said he; "but I'm a horphan, without father normother--a houtcast!"--and he sunk his head upon his bosom; and I observedthat his scrubby crop was already becoming thin and bald. 

"Since I left the place in the 'lane, ' I've bin a-going--down--down"--andhe nearly touched the floor with his hand. "That gal, Mary, was the ruinof me--I shall never forget her. --My hopes is sunk, like the sun in theocean, never to rise agin!" I was rather amused by this romantic, thoughincorrect, figure; but I let him proceed: "I've got several places, butlost 'em all. I think there's a spell upon me; and who can struggleagainst his fate?"

I tried to console him, and found, upon a further confession, that he hadflown to spirits "now and then, " to blunt the sharp tooth of mentalmisery. 

Here, then, was the chief cause of his want of success, which he blindlyattributed to fate--the common failing of all weak minds. For my part, notwithstanding the imperial authority of the great Napoleon himself, Ihave no faith in Fate, believing that the effect, whether good or bad, may invariably be traced to some cause in the conduct of the individual, as certainly as the loss of a man, in a game of draughts, is theconsequence of a "wrong move" by the player!--And poor Matthew'saccusation of Fate put me in mind of the school-boy, who, during a wetvacation, rushed vindictively at the barometer, and struck it in theface, exclaiming--"Only three holidays left, and still this plaguey glasssays 'very wet;'--I can't bear it--I can't--and I won't. "

I did all in my power to comfort the little porter, exhorting him todiligence and sobriety. 

"You were always a kind friend, " said he, pathetically; "andperhaps--perhaps you will give me something to drink your health, forold-acquaintance sake. " This unexpected turn compelled me to laughter. I gave him sixpence. 

Alas! Matthew, I found, was but a piece of coarse gingerbread, trickedout with the Dutch metal of false sentiment. 

CHAPTER XVI. --The Loss of a Friend. 

"I say, ma'am, do you happen to have the hair of 'All round my hat Ivears a green villow?'"

I was startled by the batho-romantic sentiment of Matthew, somewhat inthe same manner as the young lady at the bookseller's, when she wasaccosted by a musical dustman, with--"I say, ma'am, do you happen to havethe hair of 'All round my hat I vears a green villow?'"

But, however ridiculous they may appear, such incongruous characters areby no means caricatures--nay, are "as plentiful as blackberries, "especially in the lower grades of society. 

I was indulging in a reverie of this sort, when Monsieur Dubois, my kindand gentlemanly tutor, abruptly entered the office. I felt proud inhaving obtained his friendship--for he was to me a mine of wealth, andappeared master of every subject upon which my curiosity prompted me toinquire, whilst the worthy Frenchman was so flattered by my sincererespect, that he took a delight in imparting his knowledge to so willingand diligent a scholar. 

Mr. Crobble had promised that I should continue my studies, being muchpleased with the proof I had been fortunate enough to give him of myprogress, generously offering to defray the charges of tuition; and Ifound in my new place, even more time than when in the employ of Mr. Timmis: for, indeed, half-a-clerk would have been sufficient to haveconducted the whole business. 

I was no less surprised at the unusual abruptness of approach, than atthe extraordinary excitement apparent in the manner of Monsieur Dubois;for he always boasted of his coolness and philosophy under allcircumstances. 

"Peace, peace!--'mon cher ami'--peace is proclaim"--cried he, raising hishat and his eyes to the dingy ceiling of our office--"Grace a Dieu!--letyran Napoleon--le charlatan est renverse de son piedestal--oui, moneleve--I vill see, again once more my dear France!"

He grasped my hand in his ecstasy, and tears filled his eyes tooverflowing. I had heard rumours of the restoration of the Bourbons, butI had not anticipated the loss of my inestimable tutor. 

I was almost ashamed of my selfishness; but vanquished my feelings so faras to congratulate him on his prospects, with as much cordiality andappearance of truth as I could assume. 

"I trust, however, " said I, "that restored to your country, and yourfriends, you will find that happiness you so much deserve. Go where youwill, you will be followed by the regrets of your English friends. "

"Ah! les Anglais!--'combien'--how motch 'reconnaissance?'" said he, "Ivill have for them! I sall them forget nevare!"

Mr. Crobble interrupted our colloquy. "All right t'other side thechannel, Mounseer, " cried be, elated; "we've licked Boney: he's done up;stocks are up; and Timmis, (your old master, Andrew) is as busy as a bee--only he's making money instead of honey!"

He shook hands with Monsieur Dubois; and congratulated him upon therestoration of Louis the Eighteenth. 

I mentioned to him Monsieur Dubois' intention of proceeding immediatelyto France. "He's right, " cried he; "let every man stick to his King andhis country; and I say"--he suddenly checked himself, and beckoning measide, continued in an under tone--"Andrew, you understand this Mounseerbetter than I do; he appears a good fellow in the main: if he should wanta lift, to fit him out for the voyage, or any thing of that sort, tellhim Corny Crobble will lend him a hand, for old acquaintance sake; Ishan't stick at a matter of forty or fifty pound--you understand--put itto him, as a matter of business; for that'll suit his proud stomach best, perhaps"--then, turning to Monsieur, he said, "Excuse whispering beforecompany, Mounseer Dubois. Good morning. "

"Bon jour, Monsieur, " replied Dubois, making my obese governor one of hismost graceful bows. 

I was highly gratified at being selected as the medium of this generousoffer; which Monsieur Dubois received without hesitation, as one whointended to repay it; but, at the same time, with the most gratefulacknowledgments of Mr. Crobble's considerate kindness. 

CHAPTER XVII. --Promotion. 

"I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing, "

"My rowing!" cried I; "nonsense!--it's because you don't steer right. "

"I remember, when I was a young man, I once took a fancy to rowing, " saidMr. Crobble one day to me. "I wasn't then quite so round as I am atpresent. Cousin Tom and I hired a wherry, but somehow we found we didn'tmake much way. Tom was steering, and I took the sculls, sitting my backto him like a gaby!"

"I, think there must be something wrong about your rowing, " said Tom. 

"My rowing!" cried I; "nonsense!--it's because you don't steer right. Well, at last a waterman came alongside, and grinning (the fellowcouldn't help it) good-naturedly, pointed out the cause of our dilemma;at which we both laughed heartily. Ever since that time I've been ofopinion, that unless people, 'who row in the same boat, ' understand eachother, they'll never get along--"

I smiled at this lengthy prologue, not conceiving to what it couldpossibly lead. 

"Now, Mr. Andrew, " resumed he, "I mean to be very industrious, and devotea whole day to giving you an insight into the business; after which Iexpect you'll pull away, while I only steer, which will suit me to a T--, you understand. "

"Exactly, sir, " I replied; and, in consequence, he really set about thetask; and I soon acquired sufficient knowledge in the business, as notonly to row in the same boat with him, but, what was still more agreeableto my patron's indolence, to manage the "craft" without his assistance. 

Six months after the departure of Monsieur Dubois, he sent a remittance, with interest on the amount, advanced by Mr. Crobble, with a long epistleto me, stating, that he had entered into partnership with his elderbrother, and commenced the business of a banker, under the firm of"Dubois Freres, " at the same time informing me that they were alreadydoing a large stroke of business, and wanted an agent in London, requesting me to inform him if it would be agreeable to Mr. Crobble forthem to draw upon his respectable house. 

I saw at once the advantages of this correspondence, and so warmlysolicited Mr. Crobble to accede, that he at last consented, provided Iundertook the whole management of the affair. 

The English were now daily flocking to Paris, and the money required fortheir lavish expenditure in the gay capital of France compelled theirapplication to the bankers. 

Messrs. Dubois Freres had their share of this lucrative business, and, astheir agents in London, we necessarily became participators in theirlarge transactions. 

In three months these operations had increased so enormously, and theprofits were so considerable, that Mr. Crobble not only advanced mysalary, but consented to engage the assistance of two junior clerks. Iwas now a man of some consideration. I was the senior clerk of theestablishment, although the youngest of the three. 

In two years I found myself at the head of six clerks, and had as muchbusiness as I could possibly manage. 

My star was in the ascendant. I had not only more money than I requiredfor my expenses, but was enabled to maintain my poor old father, whodaily became more and more infirm. 

I rented a small cottage at the rural village of Hackney, but my labouroccupied me early and late, and it was only on a Sunday I could reallyenjoy my home. 

Three years after quitting the office of Mr. Timmis, I had theinexpressible pleasure of employing him to purchase stock for his errandboy! I was proud as a king. 

"I said that boy would turn out well, " said the good-natured Mr. Wallis;"he always had a good principle. "

"And now bids fair, " said Mr. Timmis, "to have both principal andinterest. "

Mr. Crobble having lately had a large property left him in Hertfordshire, rarely came to the office above once a-quarter, to settle accounts. 

"A good dividend--a very good dividend!" said he, upon receipt of thelast quarter's profits. "But, Mr. Mullins, I cannot forget that thisbusiness is your child. "

"And I'm happy to say a thriving one, " I replied. 

"Are you satisfied--perfectly satisfied?" demanded he. 

"Beyond my wishes, sir. "

"I am not, " said he shortly. 

"No, sir?" exclaimed I, with surprise. 

"No, Sir!" repeated he. "Those who sow should reap. I've nochildren--I'm an idle fellow-a drone, sir--and won't consent to consumeall the honey. Don't speak, sir--read that!" and he pulled a parchmentfrom his pocket. 

It was a deed of partnership between Cornelius Crobble, of Lodge, Hertfordshire, Esquire, and the poor cobbler's son, ANDREW MULLINS. 

A RIGMAROLE. --PART I. 

"De omnibus rebus. "

The evening is calm--the sun has just sunk below the tiles of the house, which serenely bounds the view from the quiet attic where I wield theanserine plume for the delectation of the pensive public--all nature, etc. --the sky is deep blue, tinged with mellowest red, like a learnedlady delicately rouged, and ready for a literary soiree--the sweet-voicedpot-boy has commenced his rounds with "early beer, " and with leathernlungs, and a sovereign contempt for the enactments of the new police-act--greasy varlets proclaim to the hungry neighbourhood--"Baked sheeps'heads, hot!"--O! savoury morsel!--May no legislative measure ever silencethis peripatetic purveyor to the poor! or prevent his calling--may thetag-rag and bob-tail never reject a sheep's head!

"I never sees a sheep's head, but I thinks on you, " said Mrs. Spriggins, whose physiognomy was as yellow and as wrinkled as a duck's foot. Spriggins whipped his horse, for they were driving in a one-horse chaise, with two boys, and an infant in arms--Spriggins whipped his horsespitefully, for Mrs. S. 's sarcasm inspired him with a splenetic feeling;and as he durst not chastise her, the animal received the benefit of herimpetus. Spriggins was a fool by nature, and selfish by disposition. Mrs. S. Was a shrivelled shrew, with a "bit o' money;"--that was the baitat which he, like a hungry gudgeon, had seized, and he was hooked! The"spousals" had astonished the vulgar--the little nightingale ofTwickenham would have only smiled; for has he not sweetly sung--

"There swims no goose so grey, but soon or lateShe finds some honest gander for her mate;"

and her union was a verification of this flowing couplet. 

At different times, what different meanings the self-same words obtain. According to the reading of the new poor-law guardians, "Union, " as faras regards man and wife, is explained "Separation;" or, like a ship whenin distress, the "Union" is reversed! In respect of his union, Sprigginswould have most relished the reading of the former! But there areparadoxes--a species of verbal puzzle--which, in the course of this ride, our amiable family of the Spriggins's experienced to their greatdiscomfort. 

Drawing up a turnpike-gate, Mrs. S. Handed a ticket to the white-apronedofficial of the trust. 

"You should have gone home the way you came out--that ticket won't dohere, " said the man; "so out with your coppers--three-pence. "

"I don't think I've got any half-pence!" said Mr. S. , fumbling in hispennyless pocket. 

"Well, then, I must give you change. "

"But I'm afraid I hav'nt got any silver, " replied Mr. S. , with a longface. --"I say, mister, cou'dn't you trust me?--I'd be wery sure to bringit to you. "

But the man only winked, and, significantly pointing the thumb of hisleft hand over his sinister shoulder, backed the horse. 

"Vell, I'm blessed, " exclaimed Mr. S. --and so he was--with a scoldingwife and a squalling infant; "and they calls this here a trust, thefools! and there ain't no trust at all!"

And the poor animal got another vindictive cut. Oh! Mr. Martin!--thoufriend of quadrupeds!--would that thou had'st been there. "It's all myeye and Betty Martin!" muttered Mr. S. , as he wheeled about the jadedbeast he drove, and retraced the road. 

A RIMAROLE--PART II. 

"Acti labores sunt jucundi"

The horse is really a noble animal--I hate all rail-roads, for puttinghis nose out of joint--puffing, blowing, smoking, jotting--always goingin a straight line: if this mania should continue, we shall soon have thewhole island ruled over like a copy-book--nothing but straight lines--andsloping lines through every county in the kingdom!

Give me the green lanes and hills, when I'm inclined to diverge; and thesmooth turnpike roads, when disposed to "go a-head. "--"I can't bear ahorse, " cries Numps: now this feeling is not at all reciprocal, for everyhorse can bear a man. "I'm off to the Isle of Wight, " says Numps: "Thenyou're going to Ryde at last, " quoth I, "notwithstanding your hostilityto horse-flesh. " "Wrong!" replies he, "I'm going to Cowes. " "Thenyou're merely a mills-and-water traveller, Numps!" The ninny! he doesnot know the delight of a canter in the green fields--except, indeed, thesaid canter be of the genus-homo, and a field preacher!

My friend Rory's the boy for a horse; he and his bit o' blood arenotorious at all the meetings. In fact I never saw him out of thesaddle: he is a perfect living specimen of the fabled Centaur--full ofanecdotes of fox-chases, and steeple-chases; he amuses me exceedingly. Ilast encountered him in a green lane near Hornsey, mounted on a roadster--his "bit o' blood" had been sent forward, and he was leisurely makinghis way to the appointed spot. 

"I was in Buckinghamshire last week, " said he; "a fine turn out--such afield! I got an infernal topper tho'--smashed my best tile; tell you howit was. There was a high paling--put Spitfire to it, and she took it infine style; but, as luck would have it, the gnarled arm of an old treecame whop against my head, and bonneted me completely! Thought I wasbrained--but we did it cleverly however--although, if ever I made a leapin the dark, that was one. I was at fault for a minute--but Spitfire wasall alive, and had it all her own way: with some difficulty I got my nobout of the beaver-trap, and was in at the death!"

I laughed heartily at his awkward dilemma, and wishing him plenty ofsport, we parted. 

Poor Rory! he has suffered many a blow and many a fall in his time; buthe is still indefatigable in the pursuit of his favourite pastime--sotrue is it--that

"The pleasure we delight in physic's pain;"

his days pass lightly, and all his years are leap years!

He has lately inherited a considerable property, accumulated by a miserlyuncle, and has most appropriately purchased an estate in one of theRidings of Yorkshire!

With all his love for field-sports, however, he is no better "thebetter, " says he, "is often the worse; and I've no notion of losing myacres in gambling; besides, my chief aim being to be considered a goodhorseman, I should be a consummate fool, if, by my own folly, I lost myseat!"

A RIGMAROLE--PART III. 

"Oderunt hilarem tristes. "

The sad only hate a joke. Now, my friend Rory is in no sense a sadfellow, and he loves a joke exceedingly. His anecdotes of the turfare all racy; nor do those of the field less deserve the meed of praise!Lord F____ was a dandy sportsman, and the butt of the regulars. He wasdescribed by Rory as a "walkingstick"--slender, but very "knobby"--with apair of mustaches and an eye-glass. Having lost the scent, he rode oneday slick into a gardener's ground, when his prad rammed his hind-legsinto a brace of hand-glasses, and his fore-legs into a tulip-bed. Thehorticulturist and the haughty aristocrat--how different were theirfeelings--the cucumber coolness of the 'nil admirari' of the one wasludicrously contrasted with the indignation of the astonished cultivatorof the soil. "Have you seen the hounds this way?" demanded Lord F____, deliberately viewing him through his glass. 

"Hounds!" bitterly repeated the gardener, clenching his fist. "Dogs, Imean, " continued Lord F____; "you know what a pack of hounds are--don'tyou?"

"I know what a puppy is, " retorted the man; "and if so be you don'tbudge, I'll spile your sport. But, first and foremost, you must lug outfor the damage you have done--you're a trespasser. "

"I'm a sportsman, fellow--what d'ye mean?"

"Then sport the blunt, " replied the gardener; and, closing his gates, took Lord F____ prisoner: nor did he set him free till he had reimbursedhim for the mischief he had done. 

This was just; and however illegal were the means, I applauded them forthe end. 

Our friend B___d, that incorrigible punster, said, "that his horse hadput his foot in--and he had paid his footing, "

B___d, by the bye, is a nonpareil; whether horses, guns, or dogs, he isalways "at home:" and even in yachting, (as he truly boasts) he is never"at sea. " Riding with him one day in an omnibus, I praised theconvenience of the vehicle; "An excellent vehicle, " said he, "forpunning;"--which he presently proved, for a dowager having flopped intoone of the seats, declared that she "never rid vithout fear in any ofthem omnibus things. "

"What is she talking about?" said I. 

"De omnibus rebus, " replied he, --"truly she talks like the first lady ofthe land; but, as far as I can see, she possesses neither the carriagenor the manners!"

"Can you read the motto on the Conductor's button?" I demanded. "No;" hereplied, "but I think nothing would be more appropriate to his callingthan the monkish phrase--'pro omnibus curo!'"

At this juncture a jolt, followed by a crash, announced that we had losta wheel. The Dowager shrieked. "We shall all be killed, " cried she;"On'y to think of meeting vun's death in a common omnibus!"

"Mors communis omnibus!" whispered B___d, and----

I had written thus far, when spit--spit--splutter--plop!--my end ofcandle slipped into the blacking bottle in which it was "sustained, " andI was left to admire--the stars of night, and to observe that "Charles'swain was over the chimney;" so I threw down my pen--and, as the house wasa-bed--and I am naturally of a "retiring" disposition, I sought mypallet--dreaming of literary fame!--although, in the matter of what mightbe in store for me, I was completely in the dark!

AN INTERCEPTED LETTER FROM DICK SLAMMER TO HIS FRIEND SAM FLYKE. 

eppin-toosday

my dear sam

i've rote this ere for to let you no i'm in jolly good health and hartyas a brick--and hope my tulip as your as vell----read this to sal whocan't do the same herself seeing as her edication aintt bin in that line----give her my love and tell her to take care o' the kids. ----i've got asilk vipe for sal, tell her; and suffing for 'em all, for i've made axlent spec o' the woy'ge and bagg'd some tin too i can tell you; and vontve have a blow out ven i cums amung you----napps----that's the ass----isparticklar vell and as dun his dooty like a riq'lar flint----

i rode too races ar' needn't say as i vun em for napps is a houtanhouteran no mistake!

lork! didn't i make the natifs stare! and a gintlum as vos by, vantedto oan 'im an oferd any blunt for im but walker! says i there aint sicka ass as this 'ere hanimal in the hole country----besides he's like asvun o' me oan famly, for i've brot im up in a manner from the time he vosa babby!----he's up to a move or too and knows my voice jist for all theworld like a Chrissen. 

Red-nose Bill vot had a nook 'em down here brings this and he'll tell youall about the noose----i shall foller in about, a veek or so----tell salto keep up her sperrits and not to lush vith Bet----i dont like that ereooman at all----a idle wagabone as is going to the Union likevinkin----i'm no temperens cove meself as you nose, sam, but enufs enufand as good as a feast. 

The gintry as taken hervite a likin to Napps and me----they looks upon imas hervite a projidy----for he's licked all the donkies as run aginim----the vimmen too----(you no my insinnivating vay, sam, ) and nobodynose better than me how to git the right sow by the ear----no sooner do isee 'em a comin vith their kids, than i slips of and doffs my tile, an isays, says i----do let the yung jentlum have a cast----and then thelittle in coorse begins a plegyin the old 'uns, and----so the jobs done!

----vot's to pay, my good man? says she

----oh----nothink, marm, says i, as modest as a turnip new-peeld----nappsis a rig'lar racer----i dont let im hout but i'm so fond o' children!

----this here Yummeree doos the bisnis prime, for the vimmen comes overthe jentlum and a pus is made up for anuther race----and in coorse ipockits the Bibs----cos vy?----napps is nothink but a good 'un. 

'tother day hearin as there vos an hunt in the naborwood:----napps, saysi-a----speakin to my ass----napps ve'll jist go and look at 'em----

----vell ve hadnt got no more nor a mile wen i comes slap alongside of astarch-up chap upatop of raythur a good lookin' oss. ----but my i! vorntthere bellows to mend; and he made no more vay nor a duck in agutter. ----i says, sir, says i, dye think ve shall be in time for thehunt? but he never turns is hed but sets bolt uprite as stiff aspitch----jist for all the world as if his mother had vashed im in starch. 

----i twigs his lean in a jiffy----so i says says i "oh-you needn't be soshy i rides my own hannimal, "----

----vich i takes it vos more nor he co'd say, for his vas nothin more nora borrod'un and if i dont mistake he vos a vitechapler----i think iveseed im a sarvin out svipes and blue ruin at the gin-spinners corner o'summerset street or petticut lane----dunno witch. 

----sam, i hates pride so i cuts his cumpny----i says says i----napps itdont fit you aint a nunter you're o'ny a racer and that chaps afeard hisprad vill be spiled a keeping conapny with a ass----leastways i'm o' thesame opinyon in that respec consarning meself and----so i shall mizzle. 

----a true gintlum as is a gintlum, sam is as difrent to these herestuck-up fellers az a sovrin is to a coronashun copper vot's on'y gilt. 

vell lie turns hof over the left and vips up his animal tryin to get up atrot----bobbin up and down in his sturrups and bumpin hisself to make ashow----all flummery!----he takes the middel o' the field to hisself, andi cox my i for a houtlet and spi's a gait----that's the ticket! says i;so liting the 'bacca and blowin a cloud I trots along, and had jist cumto the gait ven turnin' round to look for the gin-spinner, blow me! sam, if i didn't see the cove again heels over head over an edge----like atumler at bartlmy fare;----vile his preshus hannimal vas a takin it coolyin the meddo!

"vat a rum chap"--says i, a larfin reddy to bust----"vat a rum chap togo over the 'edge that vay! ven here's a riglar gait to ride through!"

----and so, i druv on, but somehow, sam, i coudn't help a thinkin' aspraps the waggerbun lead broke his nek----stif as it vas! and so i saidto napps----"napps, "----says i----"lets go and look arter the warmintfor charity's-sake"

----napps vots as good-natur'd a ass as his master, didn't make noobstacle and so ve vent---

----my i!----sam, i'd a stood a Kervorten and three outs ad you a binthere!----there vas my jentlum up to his nek in a duckpond----lookin' asmiserribble as a stray o' mutton in a batter puddin'

"halp! halp!" says he, a spittin' the green veeds out of hismouth----"halp me, faller, and i'll stand a bob" or summat to that efeck. 

----but i couldn't hold out my fin to him for larfin----and napps begun abrayin at sich a rate----vich struck me as if he vas a larfin too, andmade me larf wusser than ever----

----vell, at last, i contrivis to lug him out, and a preshus figger hecut to be sure----he had kervite a new sute o' black mud, vich didn'tsmell particlar sveet i can tell you. 

----"ain't hurt yoursef?" says i, "have you?"

----"no"----says he----"but i'm dem wet and utterably spiled"----or vordslike that for he chewd'em so fine i couldn't rightly hit 'em. 

----ater i'd scraped him a little desent, and he'd tip'd a hog----vichvas rayther hansum----i ax'd him vere he'd left his tile?

"tile?"----says he----a yogglin his i's and openin' his jaws like a dyin'oyster "yes your castor"----says i, "your beaver your hat. "

"Oh!"----says he, p'inting dismal to the pond----"gone to the devil d___me!"----so vith that he takes out a red and yuller vipe, and ties it abouthis hed, lookin' for all the vorld like a apple-ooman. 

----as he had come down hansum i in coorse ofer'd to ketch his prad vichva'n't much difficulty----and up he jumps and lepped with a squosh intothe saddle----and rid of vithout as much as sayin' by your leave goodluck to you or anythink else----

---vell, this here vos the end and upshot o' that day's fun for I vos toolate for the start by ten minnits----i saw 'em goin' it at a distance soi takes a sight!----but i had too much valley for napes to put im to itso as to get up vith 'em----or he might a done it praps!---

----i've lived like a fightin cock and am as fatt as butter----but therace is goin' to begin in a hour and i must go and ketch napps who's agrazin on the commun and looks oncommun vell----so no more at presentfrom, Yours, my prime 'un, dick stammer.