Short Story
Read books online » Short Story » The Sketches of Seymour by Robert Seymour (ebook reader TXT) 📖

Book online «The Sketches of Seymour by Robert Seymour (ebook reader TXT) 📖». Author Robert Seymour



1 ... 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 ... 26
Go to page:
Wallis, and a very imp of mischief; another, only a boy, with nothing remarkable but his stupidity; while the fourth was a scrubby, stunted, fellow, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, with a long pale face, deeply pitted with the small-pox, and an irregular crop of light hair, most unscientifically cut into tufts.

He, by reason of his seniority and his gravity, soon became the oracle of the 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 - scraps of 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 he soon obtained the name of Old Emphatic! - But I must confess we did obtain a great deal of information from his select reading, and were tolerably good listeners too, notwithstanding his peculiar delivery, for somehow he appeared to have a permanent cold in his head, which sometimes threw a tone 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 than destitution, which he superinduced by feeding almost entirely on 'second-hand pastry,' purchased from the little Jew-boys, who hawk about their 'tempting' trash in the vicinity of the Bank.

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

I accidentally discovered the object of his platonic flame in the person of the little grubby-girl - the servant of the house-keeper - for, as the proverb truly says,

"Love and a cough cannot be hid."

The tender passion first evinced itself in his delicate attentions; - nor was the quick-eyed maid slow to discover her conquest. Her penetration, however, was greater than her sympathy. With a tact that would not have disgraced a politician - in a better cause, she adroitly turned the swelling current of his love to her own purposes.

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

There being nearly thirty offices in the building, there were of course in winter as many fires, and as many coal-scuttles required. When the eyes of the devoted Matthew gazed on the object of his heart's desire toiling up the well-stair, he felt he knew not what; and, with a heart palpitating with the apprehension that his proffered service might be rejected (poor deluded mortal!), he begged he might assist her. With a glance that he thought sufficient to ignite the insensible carbon, she accepted his offer. Happy Matthew! - he grasped the handles her warm red-hands had touched! - Cold-blooded, unimaginative beings may deride his enthusiasm; but after all, the sentiment he experienced was similar to, and quite as pure, as that of Tom Jones, when he fondled Sophia Western's little 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 his uncle's house, at Crouchend; and so once, during the absence of that gentleman who was ruralizing at Tonbridge, I trudged down to his villa.

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

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

"That's Doddington's game 'un, I know," said Master John. "What d'ye think - if he did'nt 'pitch into' our 'dunghill' the other day, and laid him dead at a blow. I owe him one! - Come along." I followed in his footsteps, and soon beheld Chanticleer crowing with all the ostentation of 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 - and laid him low.

I trembled; for I felt that we had committed a 'foul murder.' Master Johnny, however, derided my fears - called it retributive justice - and ignominiously 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 without partaking 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 carry the whiskey, sure, and that's fair and aqual!"


I was early at my post on the following morning, being particularly anxious to meet with Mr. Wallis's scapegrace nephew, and ascertain whether anybody had found the dead body of the game-cock, and whether an inquest had been held; for I knew enough of the world to draw my own conclusions as to the result. He, although the principal, being a relative, would get off with a lecture, while I should probably be kicked out of my place.

In a fever of expectation, I hung over the banisters of the geometrical staircase, 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 very gentleman's round, pleasant physiognomy, embrowned by his travels, staring me full in the face. I really lost my equilibrium at the apparition.

"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? - some mischief, 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 its usually bland expression. "Let me see - I want to send my carpet-bag, and a message, to my housekeeper."

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

In my eagerness, however, and notwithstanding the political acuteness of my manoeuvre, I got myself into an awful dilemma. Having received the bag, and his message, I walked off, but had scarcely descended a dozen stairs 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 the carpet-bag and break my neck, in the confusion of ideas engendered by this simple query.

I could not lie, and evasion was not my forte. A man or boy in the wrong can never express himself with propriety; an opinion in which Quinctilian also 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 in the 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 wish that imp of mine would take a pattern by you. Trot along, and mind you have '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 of Mr. 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, and they gave me a cast for nothing."

"Umph! - well, that's quite proper - quite proper," said he, considering a moment. "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 then ignorant of it. I met his nephew on the landing, but my fears had vanished. We talked, however, of the departed bird, and he wished me, in the 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 had a wooden leg, and carried the cask; while his comrade, who had the use of both his pins, bore him upon his shoulders, and, complaining of the weight, the other replied: - "Och! thin, Paddy, what's the bothuration; if you carry me, don't I carry the whiskey, sure, and that's fair and aqual!" and I at once declined any such Hibernian partnership in the affair, quite resolved that he should bear the whole onus upon his own shoulders.


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 most favourable colours to Mr. Timmis, and the consequence was that he began to take more notice of me.

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

"D me, if your y's and your g's hav'nt tails like skippingropes. We must 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 the Stock-Exchange, inspected the performance, which I had executed with perspiring ardour.

I watched his countenance. "That'll do - you're a brick! I'll make a man of you - d me."

From this day forward I had the honour of keeping his books, and making out the accounts. I was already a person of importance, and certainly some 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 my father; whatever he returned to me I spent at
1 ... 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 ... 26
Go to page:

Free ebook «The Sketches of Seymour by Robert Seymour (ebook reader TXT) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment