Japhet In Search Of A Father Part 1 by Frederick Marryat (any book recommendations .txt) 📖

Part 1 Chapter 2 Pg 10

I Have Omitted To Acquaint The Reader That Sirnames As Well As Christian

Names,  Are Always Given To The Children At The Foundling,  And In

Consequence Of The Bank Note Found In My Basket,  I Had Been Named After

The Celebrated Personage Whose Signature It Bore. "Newland Is My Other

Name,  Sir," Replied I.

 

"Newland--Heh!--Very Good Name--Every Body Likes To See That Name--And

Have Plenty Of Them In His Pockets Too--Um--Very Comfortable--And So

On," Replied Mr Cophagus,  Leaving The Shop.

 

I Resumed My Thumping Occupation,  When Timothy Returned With His Empty

Basket. He Laughed When He Saw Me At Work. "Well,  How Do You Like The

Rudimans?--And So On--Heh?" Said He,  Mimicking Mr Cophagus.

 

"Not Overmuch," Replied I,  Wiping My Face.

 

"That Was My Job Before You Came. I Have Been More Than A Year,  And

Never Have Got Out Of Those Rudimans Yet,  And I Suppose I Never Shall."

 

Mr Brookes,  Perceiving That I Was Tired,  Desired Me To Leave Off,  An

Order Which I Gladly Obeyed,  And I Took My Seat In a Corner Of The Shop.

 

"There," Said Timothy,  Laying Down His Basket; "No More Work For Me

_Hanty Prandium,_ Is There,  Mr Brookes?"

 

"No,  Tim; But _Post Prandium,_ You'Ll _Post_ Off Again."

 

Dinner Being Ready,  And Mr Cophagus Having Returned,  He And Mr Brookes

Went Into The Back Parlour,  Leaving Timothy And Me In The Shop To

Announce Customers. And I Shall Take This Opportunity Of Introducing Mr

Timothy More Particularly,  As He Will Play A Very Conspicuous Part In

This Narrative. Timothy Was Short In Stature For His Age,  But Very

Strongly Built. He Had An Oval Face,  With A Very Dark Complexion,  Grey

Eyes Flashing From Under Their Long Eyelashes,  And Eyebrows Nearly

Meeting Each Other. He Was Marked With The Small-Pox,  Not So Much As To

Disfigure Him,  But Still It Was Very Perceptible When Near To Him. His

Countenance Was Always Lighted Up With Merriment; There Was Such A

Happy,  Devil-May-Care Expression In His Face,  That You Liked Him The

First Minute That You Were In His Company,  And I Was Intimate With Him

Immediately.

 

"I Say,  Japhet," Said He,  "Where Did You Come From?"

 

"The Foundling," Replied I.

 

"Then You Have No Friends Or Relations."

 

"If I Have,  I Do Not Know Where To Find Them," Replied I,  Very Gravely.

 

"Pooh! Don'T Be Grave Upon It. I Haven'T Any Either. I Was Brought Up By

The Parish,  In The Workhouse. I Was Found At The Door Of A Gentleman'S

House,  Who Sent Me To The Overseers--I Was About A Year Old Then. They

Call Me A Foundling,  But I Don'T Care What They Call Me,  So Long As They

Part 1 Chapter 2 Pg 11

Don'T Call Me Too Late For Dinner. Father And Mother,  Whoever They Were,

When They Ran Away From Me,  Didn'T Run Away With My Appetite. I Wonder

How Long Master Means To Play With His Knife And Fork. As For Mr

Brookes,  What He Eats Wouldn'T Physic A Snipe. What'S Your Other Name,

Japhet?"

 

"Newland."

 

"Newland--Now You Shall Have Mine In exchange: Timothy Oldmixon At Your

Service. They Christened Me After The Workhouse Pump,  Which Had 'Timothy

Oldmixon Fecit' On It; And The Overseers Thought It As Good A Name To

Give Me As Any Other; So I Was Christened After The Pump-Maker With Some

Of The Pump Water. As Soon As I Was Big Enough,  They Employed Me To Pump

All The Water For The Use Of The Workhouse. I Worked At My _Papa_,  As I

Called The Pump,  All Day Long. Few Sons Worked Their Father More,  Or

Disliked Him So Much: And Now,  Japhet,  You See,  From Habit,  I'M Pumping

You."

 

"You'Ll Soon Pump Dry,  Then,  For I'Ve Very Little To Tell You," Replied

I; "But,  Tell Me,  What Sort Of A Person Is Our Master?"

 

"He'S Just What You See Him,  Never Alters,  Hardly Ever Out Of Humour,

And When He Is,  He Is Just As Odd As Ever. He Very Often Threatens Me,

But I Have Never Had A Blow Yet,  Although Mr Brookes Has Complained Once

Or Twice."

 

"But Surely Mr Brookes Is Not Cross?"

 

"No,  He Is A Very Good Gentleman; But Sometimes I Carry On My Rigs A

Little Too Far,  I Must Say That. For As Mr Brookes Says,  People May Die

For Want Of The Medicines,  Because I Put Down My Basket To Play. It'S

Very True; But I Can'T Give Up 'Peg In The Ring' On That Account. But

Then I Only Get A Box Of The Ear From Mr Brookes,  And That Goes For

Nothing. Mr Cophagus Shakes His Stick,  And Says,  'Bad Boy--Big

Stick--_Um_--Won'T Forget--Next Time--And So On,'" Continued Timothy,

Laughing; "And It Is _So On_,  To The End Of The Chapter."

 

By This Time Mr Cophagus And His Assistant Had Finished Their Dinner,

And Came Into The Shop. The Former Looked At Me,  Put His Stick To His

Nose,  "Little Boys--Always Hungry--Um--Like Good Dinner--Roast

Beef--Yorkshire Pudding--And So On," And He Pointed With The Stick To

The Back Parlour. Timothy And I Understood Him Very Well This Time: We

Went Into The Parlour,  When The Housekeeper Sat Down With Us And Helped

Us. She Was A Terribly Cross,  Little Old Woman,  But As Honest As She Was

Cross,  Which Is All That I Shall Say In Her Favour. Timothy Was No

Favourite,  Because He Had Such A Good Appetite; And It Appeared That I

Was Not Very Likely To Stand Well In Her Good Opinion,  For I Also Ate A

Great Deal,  And Every Extra Mouthful I Took I Sank In Her Estimation,

Till I Was Nearly At The Zero,  Where Timothy Had Long Been For The Same

Offence; But Mr Cophagus Would Not Allow Her To Stint Him,  Saying,

"Little Boys Must Eat--Or Won'T Grow--And So On."

 

Part 1 Chapter 2 Pg 12

I Soon Found Out That We Were Not Only Well Fed,  But In every Other

Point Well Treated,  And I Was Very Comfortable And Happy. Mr Brookes

Instructed Me In The Art Of Labelling And Tying Up,  And In a Very Short

Time I Was Very Expert; And As Timothy Predicted,  The Rudiments Were

Once More Handed Over To Him. Mr Cophagus Supplied Me With Good Clothes,

But Never Gave Me Any Pocket-Money,  And Timothy And I Often Lamented

That We Had Not Even A Halfpenny To Spend.

 

Before I Had Been Many Months In The Shop Mr Brookes Was Able To Leave

When Any Exigence Required His Immediate Attendance. I Made Up The

Pills,  But He Weighed Out The Quantities In The Prescriptions; If,

Therefore,  Any One Came In For Medicines,  I Desired Them To Wait The

Return Of Mr Brookes,  Who Would Be In Very Soon. One Day,  When Mr

Brookes Was Out,  And I Was Sitting Behind The Counter,  Timothy Sitting

On It,  And Swinging His Legs To And Fro,  Both Lamenting That We Had No

Pocket-Money,  Timothy Said,  "Japhet,  I'Ve Been Puzzling My Brains How We

Can Get Some Money,  And I'Ve Hit It At Last; Let You And I Turn Doctors;

We Won'T Send All The People Away Who Come When Mr Brookes Is Out,  But

We'Ll Physic Them Ourselves."

 

I Jumped At The Idea,  And He Had Hardly Proposed It,  When An Old Woman

Came In,  And Addressing Timothy,  Said,  "That She Wanted Something For

Her Poor Grandchild'S Sore Throat."

 

"I Don'T Mix Up The Medicines,  Ma'Am," Replied Timothy; "You Must Apply

To That Gentleman,  Mr Newland,  Who Is Behind The Counter--He Understands

What Is Good For Every Body'S Complaints."

 

"Bless His Handsome Face--And So Young Too! Why,  Be You A Doctor,  Sir?"

 

"I Should Hope So," Replied I; "What Is It You Require--A Lotion,  Or An

Embrocation?"

 

"I Don'T Understand Those Hard Words,  But I Want Some Doctor'S Stuff."

 

"Very Well,  My Good Woman; I Know What Is Proper," Replied I,  Assuming

An Important Air. "Here,  Timothy,  Wash Out This Vial Very Clean."

 

"Yes,  Sir," Replied Timothy,  Very Respectfully.

 

I Took One Of The Measures,  And Putting In a Little Green,  A Little

Blue,  And A Little White Liquid From The Medicine Bottles Generally Used

By Mr Brookes,  Filled It Up With Water,  Poured The Mixture Into The

Vial,  Corked,  And Labelled It,  _Haustus Statim Sumendus_,  And Handed It

Over The Counter To The Old Woman.

 

"Is The Poor Child To Take It,  Or Is It To Rub Outside?" Inquired The

Old Woman.

 

"The Directions Are On The Label;--But You Don'T Read Latin?"

 

Part 1 Chapter 2 Pg 13

"Deary Me,  No! Latin! And Do You Understand Latin? What A Nice Clever

Boy!"

 

"I Should Not Be A Good Doctor If I Did Not," Replied I. On Second

Thoughts,  I Considered It Advisable And Safer,  That The Application

Should Be _External_,  So I Translated The Label To Her--_Haustus_,  Rub

It In--_Statim_,  On The Throat--_Sumendus_,  With The Palm Of The Hand.

 

"Deary Me! And Does It Mean All That? How Much Have I To Pay,  Sir?"

 

"Embrocation Is A Very Dear Medicine,  My Good Woman; It Ought To Be

Eighteen-Pence,  But As You Are A Poor Woman,  I Shall Only Charge You

Nine-Pence."

 

"I'M Sure I Thank You Kindly," Replied The Old Woman,  Putting Down The

Money,  And Wishing Me A Good Morning As She Left The Shop.

 

"Bravo!" Cried Timothy,  Rubbing His Hands; "It'S Halves,  Japhet,  Is It

Not?"

 

"Yes," I Replied; "But First We Must Be Honest,  And Not Cheat Mr

Cophagus; The Vial Is Sold,  You Know,  For One Penny,  And I Suppose The

Stuff I Have Taken Is Not Worth A Penny More. Now,  If We Put Aside

Two-Pence For Mr Cophagus,  We Don'T Cheat Him,  Or Steal His Property;

The Other Seven-Pence Is Of Course Our Own--Being The _Profits Of The

Profession_."

 

"But How Shall We Account For Receiving The Two-Pence?" Said