Japhet, In Search Of A Father Part 1 by Frederick Marryat (classic reads .txt) 📖

An Image Of

Loathsomeness And Deformity,  And I Felt Suffocated With The Atmosphere

Impregnated With The Smell Of Liquor. I Would Wake And Compose Myself

Again,  Glad To Be Rid Of The Horrid Dream,  But Again Would She Appear,

With A Hydra'S Tail,  Like Sin In Milton'S Paradise Lost,  Wind Herself

Round Me,  Her Beautiful Face Gradually Changing Into That Of A Skeleton.

I Cried Out With Terror,  And Awoke To Sleep No More,  And Effectually

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Cured By My Dream Of The Penchant Which I Felt Towards Miss Aramathea

Judd.

 

 

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     My Prescriptions Very Effective And Palatable,  But I Lose My

     Patient--The Feud Equal To That Of The Montagues And The

     Capulets--Results Different--Mercutio Comes Off Unhurt.

 

 

 

 

The Next Day I Sent Timothy To Purchase Some Highly Rectified White

Brandy,  Which I Coloured With A Blue Tincture,  And Added To It A Small

Proportion Of The Essence Of Cinnamon,  To Disguise The Smell; A Dozen

Large Vials,  Carefully Tied Up And Sealed,  Were Despatched To Her Abode.

She Now Seldom Called Unless It Was Early In The Morning; I Made

Repeated Visits To Her House To Receive Money,  But No Longer To Make

Love. One Day I Requested Permission To Be Present At Their Meeting,  And

To This She Gave Immediate Consent; Indeed We Were On The Most Intimate

Terms,  And When She Perceived That I No Longer Attempted To Play The

Fool,  I Was Permitted To Remain For Hours With Her In conversation. She

Had,  As She Told Me She Intended,  Re-Enamelled And Painted Her Face,  But

Knowing What Beauty Was Concealed Underneath,  I No Longer Felt Any

Disgust.

 

Timothy Was Very Much Pleased At His Share Of This Arrangement,  As He

Seldom Brought Her The Medicine Without Pocketing Half-A-Crown.

 

For Two Or Three Months Every Thing Went On Very Satisfactorily; But One

Evening,  Timothy,  Who Had Been Sent With The Basket Of Vials For Miss

Judd'S Assistance,  Returned In Great Consternation,  Informing Me That

The House Was Empty. He Had Inquired Of The Neighbours,  And From The

Accounts Given,  Which Were Very Contradictory,  It Appeared That The

Rival Prophetess Had Marched Up At The Head Of Her Proselytes The

Evening Before,  Had Obtained Entrance,  And That A Desperate Contention

Had Been The Result. That The Police Had Been Called In,  And All Parties

Had Been Lodged In The Watch-House; That The Whole Affair Was Being

Investigated By The Magistrates,  And That It Was Said That Miss Judd And

All Her Coadjutors Would Be Sent To The Penitentiary. This Was Quite

Enough To Frighten Two Boys Like Us; For Days Afterwards We Trembled

When People Came Into The Shop,  Expecting To Be Summoned And Imprisoned.

Gradually,  However,  Our Fears Were Dismissed,  But I Never From That Time

Heard Any Thing More Of Miss Aramathea Judd.

 

After This Affair,  I Adhered Steadily To My Business,  And Profiting By

The Advice Given Me By That Young Person,  Improved Rapidly In My

Profession,  As Well As In General Knowledge; But My Thoughts,  As Usual,

Were Upon One Subject--My Parentage,  And The Mystery Hanging Over It. My

Eternal Reveries Became At Last So Painful,  That I Had Recourse To

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Reading To Drive Them Away,  And Subscribing To A Good Circulating

Library,  I Was Seldom Without A Book In My Hand. By This Time I Had Been

Nearly Two Years And A Half With Mr Cophagus,  When An Adventure Occurred

Which I Must Attempt To Describe With All The Dignity With Which It

Ought To Be Invested.

 

This Is A World Of Ambition,  Competition,  And Rivalry. Nation Rivals

Nation,  And Flies To Arms,  Cutting The Throats Of A Few Thousands On

Each Side Till One Finds That It Has The Worst Of It. Man Rivals Man,

And Hence Detraction,  Duels,  And Individual Death. Woman Rivals Woman,

And Hence Loss Of Reputation And Position In High,  And Loss Of Hair,  And

Fighting With Pattens In Low,  Life. Are We Then To Be Surprised That

This Universal Passion,  Undeterred By The Smell Of Drugs And Poisonous

Compounds,  Should Enter Into Apothecaries' Shops? But Two Streets--Two

Very Short Streets From Our Own--Was Situated The Single-Fronted Shop Of

Mr Ebenezer Pleggit. Thank Heaven,  It Was Only Single-Fronted; There,  At

Least,  We Had The Ascendancy Over Them. Upon Other Points,  Our

Advantages Were More Equally Balanced. Mr Pleggit Had Two Large Coloured

Bottles In His Windows More Than We Had; But Then We Had Two Horses,  And

He Had Only One. He Tied Over The Corks Of His Bottles With Red-Coloured

Paper; We Covered Up The Lips Of Our Vials With Delicate Blue. It

Certainly Was The Case--For Though An Enemy,  I'Ll Do Him Justice--That,

After Mr Brookes Had Left Us,  Mr Pleggit Had Two Shopmen,  And Mr

Cophagus Only One; But Then That One Was Mr Japhet Newland; Besides,  One

Of His Assistants Had Only One Eye,  And The Other Squinted Horribly,  So

If We Measured By Eyes,  I Think The Advantage Was Actually On Our Side;

And,  As Far As Ornament Went,  Most Decidedly; For Who Would Not Prefer

Putting On His Chimney-Piece One Handsome,  Elegant Vase,  Than Two

Damaged,  Ill-Looking Pieces Of Crockery? Mr Pleggit Had Certainly A

Gilt Mortar And Pestle Over His Door,  Which Mr Cophagus Had Omitted When

He Furnished His Shop; But Then The Mortar Had A Great Crack Down The

Middle,  And The Pestle Had Lost Its Knob. And Let Me Ask Those Who Have

Been Accustomed To Handle It,  What Is A Pestle Without A Knob? On The

Whole,  I Think,  With The Advantage Of Having Two Fronts,  Like Janus,  We

Certainly Had The Best Of The Comparison; But I Shall Leave The

Impartial To Decide.

 

All I Can Say Is,  That The Feuds Of The Rival Houses Were Most

Bitter--The Hate Intense--The Mutual Scorn Unmeasurable. Did Mr Ebenezer

Pleggit Meet Mr Phineas Cophagus In The Street,  The Former Immediately

Began To Spit As If He Had Swallowed Some Of His Own Vile Adulterated

Drugs; And In Rejoinder,  Mr Cophagus Immediately Raised The Cane From

His Nose High Above His Forehead In So Threatening An Attitude As Almost

To Warrant The Other Swearing The Peace Against Him,  Muttering,  "Ugly

Puppy--Knows Nothing--Um--Patients Die--And So On."

 

It May Be Well Supposed That This Spirit Of Enmity Extended Through The

Lower Branches Of The Rival Houses--The Assistants And I Were At Deadly

Feud; And This Feud Was Even More Deadly Between The Boys Who Carried

Out The Medicines,  And Whose Baskets Might,  In Some Measure,  Have Been

Looked Upon As The Rival Ensigns Of The Parties,  They Themselves

Occupying The Dangerous And Honourable Post Of Standard Bearers.

 

Timothy,  Although The Kindest-Hearted Fellow In The World,  Was As Good A

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Hater As Dr Johnson Himself Could Have Wished To Meet With; And When

Sometimes His Basket Was Not So Well Filled As Usual,  He Would Fill Up

With Empty Bottles Below,  Rather Than That The Credit Of The House

Should Be Suspected,  And His Deficiencies Create A Smile Of Scorn In The

Mouth Of His Red-Haired Antagonist,  When They Happened To Meet Going

Their Rounds. As Yet,  No Actual Collision Had Taken Place Between Either

The Principals Or The Subordinates Of The Hostile Factions; But It Was

Fated That This State Of Quiescence Should No Longer Remain.

 

Homer Has Sung The Battles Of Gods,  Demigods,  And Heroes; Milton The

Strife Of Angels. Swift Has Been Great In His Battle Of The Books; But I

Am Not Aware That The Battle Of The Vials Has As Yet Been Sung; And It

Requires A Greater Genius Than Was To Be Found In Those Who Portrayed

The Conflicts Of Heroes,  Demigods,  Gods,  Angels,  Or Books,  To Do

Adequate Justice To The Mortal Strife Which Took Place Between The

Lotions,  Potions,  Draughts,  Pills,  And Embrocations. I Must Tell The

Story As Well As I Can,  Leaving It As An Outline For A Future Epic.

 

Burning With All The Hate Which Infuriated The Breasts Of The Two Houses

Of Capulet And Montague,  Hate Each Day Increasing From Years Of "Biting

Thumbs" At Each Other,  And Yet No Excuse Presenting Itself For An

Affray,  Timothy Oldmixon--For On Such An Occasion It Would Be A Sin To

Omit His Whole Designation--Timothy Oldmixon,  I Say,  Burning With Hate

And Eager With Haste,  Turning A Corner Of The Street With His Basket

Well Filled With Medicines Hanging On His Left Arm,  Encountered,  Equally

Eager In His Haste,  And Equally Burning In His Hate,  The Red-Haired

Mercury Of Mr Ebenezer Pleggit. Great Was The Concussion Of The Opposing

Baskets,  Dire Was The Crash Of Many Of The Vials,  And Dreadful Was The

Mingled Odour Of The Abominations Which Escaped,  And Poured Through The

Wicker Interstices. Two Ladies From Billingsgate,  Who Were Near,

Indulging Their Rhetorical Powers,  Stopped Short. Two Tom Cats,  Who Were

On An Adjacent Roof,  Just Fixing Their Eyes Of Enmity,  And About To Fix

Their Claws,  Turned Their Eyes To The Scene Below. Two Political

Antagonists Stopped Their Noisy Arguments. Two Dustmen Ceased To Ring

Their Bells; And Two Little Urchins Eating Cherries From The Crowns Of

Their Hats,  Lost Sight Of Their Fruit,  And Stood Aghast With Fear. They

Met,  And Met With Such Violence,  That They Each Rebounded Many Paces;

But Like Stalwart Knights,  Each Kept His Basket And His Feet. A Few

Seconds To Recover Breath; One Withering,  Fiery Look From Timothy,

Returned By His Antagonist,  One Flash Of The Memory In each To Tell Them

That They Each Had The _La_ On Their Side,  And "Take That!" Was Roared

By Timothy,  Planting A Well-Directed Blow With His Dexter And Dexterous

Hand Upon The Sinister And Sinisterous Eye Of His Opponent. "Take That!"

Continued