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very long way from comfortable in my mind. Il it all as plainly as did I, understanding it much didn't exactly know what, but that something better. Soon, however, as all was quiet, he rose dreadful was the matter I had no doubt.

on his elbow, and leaning over the side of the Gradually the noises in the street and in the bed, felt about the floor, evidently for the puralley subsided, and all without was quiet. All pose of finding the key the woman had pushed within was quiet also, except that in the front under the door. room overhead the muffled shuffling of feet and What could he want with it? Was it his inan indistinct humming as of two persons convers- tention, as the woman said it probably would be, ing in whispers continued. As the other noises to go up and take a peep?." Was he going up died away these last mentioned grew plainer. "to cure his burns by holding them to the fire, Knowing the room as I did, I could as easily as whatever that meant ? This could hardly be, bepossible follow the footsteps, and knew exactly cause if he meant to go up to our room, his most where the two whisperers halted. In about an natural course would be to get up and light the hour, however, the whisperers came together to candle, which he would want to show him the the room-door, shut it, locked it on the outside, way, and which would make his search after the and hastened down-stairs. When they reached key an easy matter. No, he was not going upthe door of the room where we were, said one to stairs. After groping about for more than a the other

minute, he fished up the key, and lifting up his “What shall we do with the candle ?"

pillow placed it underneath. “Blow it out, and stand it just outside the “ That's summat of a keepsake, anyhow," he door, here."

whispered; and then he laid his head down, as "Ah, that's the ticket. He and the boy are though at last he really was going to sleep. sleeping in here, you know. I'll put it down But somehow he couldn't manage it. No poalong with the lucifer matches."

sition suited him for as long as five minutes. He “No occasion to leave the matches, as I see.” tossed and tumbled this side and that with his

“You don't know: he might take it into his face to the wall—with his face to the windowhead to want to go up and have a peep, and I with his arms folded tight over his breast, and don't suppose he would care about going up in then again pressed across his eyes, as though to the dark."

keep them closed whether they would or no. “I should rather think not," replied the other But he couldn't be still. One thing, however, I woman, with a stifled giggle. .“ If he's the man could not help remarking. Whichever way he I take him for, he'll be in no hurry to pay her a stirred, he was careful to avoid disturbing me. visit, daylight or dark. At least I should not Every time he made an awkward lurch, he would like to if I was him."

pat me softly on the shoulder, and whisper “Why not?"

“hus-sh!” as though afraid that I might wake. There was no answer to this, at least no verbal But he need not have taken any pains on that

That the party questioned made some score. I was awake-broad awake—though still sort of response or sign was plain, however, for as a mouse. My mind was utterly bewildered by the other replied

the quick succession of marvellous events that “Oh! I don't know. Old Nick, you know, is had transpired during the day. What, after all, not so black as he is painted, they say. You was the matter with mother? That was the forecan't say what you'd do if you stood in his most puzzle in my mind. Mrs. Jenkins had said shoes. There's an old saying and a true one, she was gone," and yet the two women were that there is no cure for a burn like holding it to engaged up-stairs hours afterwards,-engaged in the fire."

our room, and with my mother beyond a doubt; “Well, make haste tying your pattens on for had not the women when they talked about we shan't be able to get a drain at the 'Stile' the key and the candle said, “Perhaps he would before they shuts up.”

like to go up and have a peep at her?" Again, “I'm ready when you are."

if she was “gone," why had they locked the “ How about the key ?”

door? and still

, again, if she was not gone, but “Well, it's no use leaving him the candle and was simply lying abed, why had they locked the the matches without we leave him the key. Lay door? Had they left her all alone and in the it down with 'em,"

dark because she was ill ? Still, if Mrs. Jenkins's I know a safer way than that. That's how word might be taken for it, mother had gone, to do it.” And as she spoke she pushed the key “Poor dear creature, and was you with her, under the door into the room, as I could tell by ma'am, when she went ? " a woman asked of her, the scrooping noise.

and she answered, “Yes, I was with her till the Then, as my sense of smell plainly informed last.” It was altogether a maze to me, and the me, they blew the candle out and went down- further I endeavoured to penetrate it the more I stairs. They did not go down in the dark, how- became bewildered. ever. They struck a light with a lucifer match If my mother was gone, where was she gone against the wall against which our heads lay. to, and how long would it be before she returned ? The match, however, went out before they got She was never coming back. That was another half-way down; for one of them exclaimed remark Mrs. Jenkins had made use of. "How

“Drat the thing ! it's gone out, and I haven't long will it be before mother comes home again, got another! Never mind; come along." ma'am ?” I asked her; and her reply was, "She

And then they were heard hurrying along the will never come home again, my poor boy. She passage towards the street door, which they has gone away for ever to the place where all banged with a heartiness that showed how glad good people go, and she will never come back they were to get out of a house where death was. any more.' My father lay quite still while the whispering How long was

never ?" was going on without, and without doubt heard Was it a day, a week, a month? Was it far



ther off than my birthday, or next Christmas? you mind what she says, Jimmy. It isn't no use Were there more sorts of "never" than one of her trying to keep your pluck up by telling I had often heard the word used between my you a parcel of lies. Mother's gone, Jimmy. father and mother; but, according to my observ- She isn't coming back. She can't come back. ation, its meaning was uncertain. I had heard Bushels and sackfuls of money wouldn't fetch my father say to my mother, "Curse you, I have her back. How can she, Jimmy, when she's done with you. I'll never break bread along with dead? You knew that mother was dead, didn't you again; if I do, I hope it may choke me." you ?” This he would say at breakfast-time; yet he has “ Dead!" returned at night and ate his supper with my “Dead !” echoed my father, in a whisper. mother the same as usual, breaking bread and "You see that bird on the shelf there" (one eating it without being choked. “I'll never for- which young Joe Jenkins had taken in hand, and give you, Jim," said my mother that time when was preparing for stuffing. By the dim moonhe sneered at her about being only fit to live in light I could make it out pretty well; and a terTurkey, and struck her down beside the fender; ribly grim sight it was, without eyes, with its “I'll never, never forgive you, Jim, while I've beak wide agape, and with bright iron skewers got breath left in my body;" and yet, according run through all parts of its body.) “You see to Mrs. Jenkins, she had freely forgiven him. that, Jimmy; well

, that's death, Mother can no She had been longing all that afternoon that my more come to life again, and get up and walk, father might come home that she might tell him than that bullfinch can hop down off the shelf so; that she might take his hand in hers, and and begin to pick up crumbs, and sing, and fly kiss him, and tell him that they parted good about the room.” friends. It was plain that “never” meant all “And is that 'never,' too, father?” I asked, sorts of times. But how long was this “never" eyeing the horrible bullfinch. “Does death mean of my mother's? Certainly, I would put the the same as 'never?'" question to Mrs. Jenkins the very first thing in “Pretty much, I suppose," returned he. “Howthe morning. Stay! perhaps my father knew, somever, that's being dead, my boy, and so you At least there could be no harm in asking him. “Father, are you-asleep ? ”

“I thought dead' meant 'gone,' father. The “No, Jimmy, I'm awake. Why? "

finch hasn't gone. Hasn't mother gone? Is "When is never' father?"

she up-stairs with sharp things all stuck in her ?” The question fairly startled him on his elbows. “No, no! good Lord ! what a fancy for a kid No doubt it did come rather suddenly on him. to lay hold on! Beggar that mother Jenkins !

“Hus-sh! lay down, Jim. You've been Look here; you know what keeps you going, a-dreaming,” said he.

don't you ?” “I haven't been to sleep yet, father. I can't “Keeps me going, father?” I didn't know. go for thinking of it. Can't you tell me when How should I. never' is ? Mother's 'never,' I mean?”

Keeps you walking and breathing, and that; “Mother's never !"" repeated he. “Well, and makes you—well, blest if I know how to that's rather a queer question for a young 'un bring it home to him!--makes you know what like you to ask. I don't understand you, Jimmy. things are when you look at 'em." What has never got to do with mother ?” “I know,” said I. “My eyes."

“That's what I can't make out, I replied; “I “No; more than that. Your eyes ain't no thought you might be able to tell me."

more than your hands to see with, 'cept for the “You go to sleep, that's a good boy,” said my power what's give to 'em. It's your soul what's father, putting my head down on to the pillow, the power, Jimmy. It's your soul what keeps and tucking me in to make me comfortable; you going. What goes out-of you and brings “you go to sleep, Jimmy; don't you trouble you to be like that finch, is your soul, my boyyour head about "never;' never' is a long day." what God 'll save, if you be a good boy, like the

“Only a day? only a long day? I'm glad of doctor told you, and say your prayers. And that. I'm glad it ain't more; ain't you, fa- when it has gone out of you, there you are ; ther?”

can't cry out, can't move, nor hear, nor breathe, “Not particular glad, Jimmy; what's it got nor see. You can't feel the least in the world. to do with me? Long day or short day, it's If you was pinned through and through, like that about the same, I reckon."

finch is, it would be all the same to you as leav“It isn't the same to mother, is it, father?” ing you alone. It doesn't matter who it comes

“ There you are again,” replied' my father, to, Jimmy; it's the same thing. Death don't once more rising on his elbows and looking know nothing about Lord Mayors, nor magisdown on me;

“what's it got to do with mo- trates, nor nobs and swells, as ride about in carther?"

riages; they're all the same as crossing-sweepers “ Never' is the time when mother is coming to him. And your mother's dead; and by and back to us. You 'll be glad to see her come back, by they will bring a coffin and lay her in it, and won't you, father ?”

carry her out on their shoulders and lay her in He rose up high on his elbows when I said the pit-hole. My poor Polly! my poor cherrythis, and regarded me, as I could see by the dim lipped gal! and that's what they will do,” conmoonlight that came in at the window, with not tinued my father, carried sheer out of his depth in a little dismay.

his earnest (though, I am bound to confess, not "Who's been putting that into his young completely successful) endeavours to make me head ?" said he.

understand what death was; "that is what they “Mrs. Jenkins, father," I promptly replied. will do to my poor gal; and me laying here with

“Mrs. Jenkins is a precious jackass for her out having kissed you before you went, as you pains, then,” said my father, savagely. “Don't wanted me, or even bidding you good-bye."

At this point he broke down completely, and, first thing in the morning, I consented to kise burying his face in the pillow, fairly shook the him and be a good boy. scissor bedstead with the strength of his grief. I have no doubt but that my father congratuThe sorrow he had manifested in the early part lated himself on having achieved a victory on of the evening was as nothing compared with it; such easy conditions ; but there were difficulties and I take it to be a lucky circumstance that, af in the way of the carrying out of the terms of frighted by the dismal turn affairs had taken, I, our treaty he had never dreamed of. He got out too, now began to cry, and howl, and shriek, set- of bed, and then he made the discovery that old. ting my pipes to the highest pitch. It was lucky Jenkins had not left us any candle. Stumbling for this reason, that lest every lodger in the amongst young Joe's wood and wirework, and house should be roused and alarmed by the tre- feeling on the mantle-shelf and in the cupboard, mendous row I was creating, my father exerted he made the discovery; and it set him growling himself to stanch his grief, that he might be at at a pretty rate. The handiest candle was the liberty to abate mine.

one outside the door, that the woman had brought But I was not to be easily pacified. The ter-down from the room where my mother was. rible picture of death that my father had drawn “Here's a pretty go, Jim!” said my father, filled me with horror. The truth was bad enough affecting to treat the matter pleasantly, as a lure, before, seen as I had seen it through a haze of I suppose, for me to do the same. “I'm blessed uncertainty and ignorance; but now, when, in if that old Jenkins hasn't took the candle away. bis rough way, he whipped up the curtain, and We'll give him a talking to to-morrow morning, exposed to my gaze the hard, grisly reality, it won't we?” was altogether more than I could bear. It was “ There's a candle outside, and matches as all in vain that he endeavoured to quiet me. He well,” I replied. “I heard the woman who in turn tried threats, coaxing, and compensation. came down-stairs put them there." He volunteered to tell me a story; and at once Oh, you don't want no candle, Jimmy!” plunged, to the best of his ability, into one in said my father, coaxingly. “See what a man which a dreadful ogre, with seven heads, had you are gettin'-going to have a bloater for little children boiled regularly every morning for your breakfast, too - a whole bloater! See his breakfast. As may be imagined, I derived no here ; I'll pull aside the curtain, and let a bit sort of comfort from such a narrative. He felt more moon in—shall I? There you are! Why, out of bed for his trousers, and taking his canvas it's as light as arternoon a’most now-ain't it? bag, gave it me with its contents. He promised But instead of answering him, I began to cry me a ride on his barrow to Covent Garden Market again, and to call out loudly for my mother. He in the morning. Knowing how much I liked saw plainly that there was nothing to be done but Yarmouth bloaters, he pledged his word that if keep to the terms of our contract; so, after a bit I would hold my row, I should have a whole one of a growl, he opened the door very softly, and all to myself for my breakfast in the morning. reached in the matches and the candlestick, and There was a rocking-horse maker out in Ayles- lit the candle, and stood it on a shelf. bury Street, and often had I expressed a desire to I was of course too young to think of such possess one of the splendid saddled and stirruped things at the time, but it has occurred to me fresteeds exhibited in the shop-a desire that had quently since,-how did my father feel, and what invariably met with refusal, uncompromising and did he think about, as he lay watching that hopeless : now the handsomest rocking-horse to candle burning? In my eyes it was simply a be bought for money should be mine in the morn- bit of tallow candle ; and my only reflection in ing, if I would only lie down and be a good boy. reference to it was, that it would have been much

No! no! no! I wanted my mother, and better had it been somewhat longer, for there was would be satisfied with nothing less. According not more than two inches of it, and it was all to my father's own statement, she was lying all aslant and guttery. As he lay with his eyes fixed alone, speared through and through with spikes, on it, however, it may have filled him with as was Joe Jenkins's bullfinch, (or, if not, she thoughts that were much more serious. It may was reduced to that deplorable condition, that have come into his mind that this was the candle whether they run spikes through or no would that had burned all the night through in my momake no difference to her-which was much the ther's room, and that it was gazing on its flame same thing ;) and what I insisted on, and would that her dying sight had failed her. Perhaps she consent to leave off crying on no other terms, had said, as dying people will, under such cirwas that my father and I should go up-stairs and cumstances, “Bring back the candle; I cannot let mother out. He had the key of the door un- see; I am in the dark.” He may have been led der his pillow, I reminded him; and begged and to ponder on the uncertainty of life, and on what implored that he would go up and see what could a useless thing a body bereft of its soul is. More be done for poor mother.

useless than a scrap of candle, for the candle “No; I won't do it. I can't do it. I wouldn't flame may be quenched, and the candle saved do it for a hundred good pounds told down,” re- and rekindled; but the body never may until plied he, emphatically; "and since you won't be the day of the Great Rekindling comes. good for nothing less, why p'r'aps you'd better If he got into a train of thought of this sort, cry until you are tired, and then you 'll leave goodness knows what else he may have been off.”

led to think about. Perhaps of the considerable My father had a way of saying things he really share he had taken towards putting my mother's meant in a way there was no misunderstanding. life out, and how he would have to answer for it The answer above written was of this sort, and one day. I shouldn't wonder if he did think of speedily led to our coming to terms. On condi- this. Certainly, as he lay regarding the candletion that he got up and lit a candle immediately, flame so intently thoughts of more than ordinary and, further, that I should see mother the very solemnity were busy within him, and I very sin

cerely trust that the guess I have made is cor- curious means for investing my money. At rect, because never before or since do I recollect their suggestion, I once bought a market bunch seeing him so bowed down and humble.

of young and juicy carrots. On the third day For my part, the bullfinch gave me enough to after my mother's decease, I became so ill that think of. By the dull light of the moon † had they fetched the white-headed doctor to see me. been able to make out little more than its mere I was going after my mother, everybody said ; shape. Now, however, it was plainly revealed and quite a new start was given to the now from its head to its tail. My heart has been set slightly flagging interest in me. against bullfinches from that time; and, as a gift I was the envy of every boy in the Alley. even, I would not accept the best “piper" in There was one youth in particular, named Pape, London. I believe that most people would as whose father used to go about with a tinker's soon entertain the idea of giving house-room to barrow, mending pots and grinding scissors. He a human skeleton as I to a bird of this species; it was that recommended the purchase of the carnor would it be, comparatively, more preposter- rots, and altogether, at this period, he displayed ous, since the bullfinch is, in my eyes, as perfect a great amount of affection for me. He was an emblem of death as could possibly be sug- older than I was, but hardly a bit bigger; and I gested. It was death itself, and so I regarded it. well remember a conversation he and I had conMy eyes were drawn towards it, and would not cerning mothers, dead and alive. He had not be withdrawn. Its black, eyeless, bullet-shaped got a good mother. According to his account, head; its wide-agape beak; its straddle legs; (and I believe I was completely in his confidence the crimson blurs and smirches that stained its at the time,) she was a woman who could conbody; the bright, sharp wires which trussed it in sume a large quantity of spirituous liquor withevery direction, fascinated my gaze completely. out being overcome by it. According to Jerry Presently the dwindling candle began to sputter, Pape, Mrs. Pape was malicious to that degree, and its flame to gasp for breath, as it were that she would lay traps for Jerry and his rising and falling like a man that is drowning, brothers to fall into mischief, and then keep and seeming to make the spitted bird rise and them without their dinner by way of punishfall, and to wriggle and writhe to get free from ment-spending the money that ought to have the spikes in it. Then, with a struggle, I turned provided the mid-day meal in gin at the “Dog my face to the wall, and, falling asleep, never and Stile.” awoke until I heard the tinkle of the breakfast “I wish there was no mothers,” said Jerry; things in Jenkins's room.

“what's the good on 'em? They on'y whack yer, and get yer into rows when your father comes

home. Anybody as is hard up for a mother can CHAPTER VI.

have mine, and jolly welcome. I wish she would


“Praps she will soon, Jerry," I replied, by THE INSIDE OF A CHURCH, ALSO A PIT-HOLE IN way of comforting the poor fellow.

"She 'd better," said Jerry, with threatening

brows. I DISCOVERED no particular reason for bewail Why had she better, Jerry ?" ing my mother's death for some considerable “Never mind why. You'll know why, one of time after it happened. On the contrary, in- these days, and so will all the jolly lot on yer as deed, I was decidedly a gainer by the melancholy lives in Fryingpan Alley. You know Guy Fox, event; for no sooner did it become generally don't yer? Him as comes about on the fift of known that I was an orphan, than every woman- Nowember ?” ly heart in Fryingpan Alley yearned towards me. “Yes, yes, Jerry, I know." During the first two or three days, this universal “Werry well, then. Don't you ask any more sympathy and commiseration was rather embar- questions, 'cos it's a secret." rassing to a boy so utterly unused to it. My ap “Do tell us, Jerry! Do tell us, and you shall pearance at the door was the signal for a doleful have another bite; up to here, see!”-and I parchorus of “Here comes poor little Jimmy!” and titioned off a big bit of the apple with my fingers I could scarcely walk as far as the water-butt and thumb for Jerry to bite. without having my head patted half-a-dozen “No, not up to there, nor not if you gives me times, and more bread and treacle and bits of the lot,” replied Jerry, eyeing the little apple conpudding thrust into my hands that I could have temptuously; "why, it's ever such a secret. It fairly eaten in a day.

’ud make you funk so, that you'd be afeared to Nor did the good-nature of the neighbours shut your eyes when you went to bed. I might stop at presents of victuals. People whom I let you into it, if you stood a baked tatur; and scarcely knew by sight even stopped me, and, that 'ud be like chucking it away.” after many tender inquiries of a sort calculated Five minutes after, Jerry and I were seated on to make me pipe my eye, soothed and comforted the threshold of a dark warehouse doorway, it me by gifts of halfpence and farthings. The was evening,) in Red Lion Street; and while he pocket in my little breeches would scarcely discussed the baked potato, he revealed to me the hold my riches ; and the value of money so particulars of his terrible secret. depreciated in my eyes, that I was led into “I'm a savin' up,” whispered he. “I've got all sorts of extravagances. There was no deli- as high as fippence. Leastways, when I ses fipcacy in the sweetstuff-shop round the corner, pence, it 's fivepen'orth ; so it's all the same." from the top to the bottom shelf, with the “Fivepen'orth of what, Jerry ?” flavour of which I did not make myself ac “Fireworks,” replied Jerry, in the lowest of quainted. My young acquaintances exerted whispers, and with his lips close to my wondering themselves in my behalf to invent novel and I ear. "I've got a Roman candle, nine crackers,


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and a squib. Sky-rockets would be the things; tomorrow. He went up by himself, and presentbut they're so jolly dear."

ly he came down with a square pencil in his “Where are they, Jerry? Whereabouts is the mouth and a tape-measure about his neck, conRoman candle and the crackers? What are you ning the “ dimensions," as he called them, and going to do with 'em, Jerry ?”

which were figured down on the smooth side of a “They're stuffed in the bed—in our old wo- scrap of dirty sandpaper. man's bed,” replied Jerry, cramming the last It was an old-established custom in Fryingpan piece of hot potato into his mouth, his face as- Alley, and all the other courts and alleys theresuming a most fiendish expression. “I'm a savin' about, that when a person died, his female relaup till I buys enough fireworks to fill the jolly old tives wore the regular sort of mourning attire tick quite full. Then I'm goin' to buy some gun- black bonnets and shawls, &c.—but his male repowder. Then I'm a-goin' to get up early one lations wore nothing of the kind. They followed morning with my gunpowder, and lay a train under the body to the grave in their ordinary flannels the bedstead, and down the stairs, and out into and fustians, and their only emblem of bereavethe street. Then I'm a-goin' on the tramp, drop- ment was a wisp of black crape round the upper ping my gunpowder, mind yer, all the way as I part of the arm, after exactly the same fashion, goes; and when I gets about up to Peckham, indeed, as soldiers wear their badges of mourning I'm a-goin' to set light to my train; and up 'll go for any defunct member of the Royal family. the old woman over the houses, blowed into little Sometimes, in addition to the crape armlet, a bit bits."

of the same material would be worn round the Whether Jerry Pape seriously contemplated cap; but this was considered not at all necessary, this diabolical murder, or was merely imposing on and as rather approaching what is known as me, I cannot, of course, be certain. Most proba- “ toffishness"--as near an approach to it, indeed, bly the latter. I firmly believed in him at the as could be by any means tolerated. Had any time, however; and for several nights afterwards male dwelling in our alley ventured to turn out in lay abed trembling, in the dark, in momentary a black coat and trousers, and, to crown all, a tall expectation of a tremendous explosion, and one black hat, he would have been subject to the withof the largest “bits” of Mrs. Pape falling down ering scorn of every inhabitant, and the tall our chimney.

black hat would certainly have been knocked To return, however, to my history,

from his head before he had reached Turnmill My mother dying on the Friday, her_funeral Street. was fixed to take place on the ensuing Tuesday, And yet it must not be imagined that this prethat being a slack day at the markets, and there judice against orthodox mourning attire arises fore suitable to my father's convenience.

out of brutal-mindedness and contempt of death. From the time of my mother's death until the It has its origin in "fashion.” It may seem odd day of her burial, I was so little at home as to be to associate so dandy a thing as fashion with cosaltogether unaware of the preparations that were termongerism, but it is quite true that they are going on towards that melancholy event. I did | closely associated. No man is more anxious “to not even sleep at home, Mrs. Winkship having do the thing to rights” in the matter of clothes considerately placed at my disposal, at her house, than the prosperous barrow-man. At the period the comfortable little crib which her niece Martha of which I am writing, Spitalfields set the fashion, had slept in when she was a child. I should even and not a costermonger in London but scrupuhave missed the sight of mother's coffin being lously followed its dictates—from the seal-skin carried in at Number Nineteen, had not the lady cap upon his head to the arrangement of the who lived opposite, and with whom I was taking clinkers in the “ankle-jacks” in which his feet tea, luckily caught sight of it, and, hurriedly were encased. Fashion in Spitalfields was as cacatching me up in her arms, stood me on a table pricious as the goddess that sways her sceptre in before the window that I might look. “See, Regent Street. It was the correct thing for the Jimmy! see !" said she; “ unkivered, with black costermonger, whatever branch of industry he nails ; quite a pictur of a coffin I call that, now !"might pursue, to wear round his throat-bunchy,

There was not much fuss about the Fryingpan loosely tied, and elegantly careless-a very large, Alley funerals. The people were buried in a highly-coloured silk pocket-handkerchief. This business-like manner, at a business price, and the costermonger calls a “kingsman.” This seathere was no sentimental nonsense about the mat- son its pattern would be yellow, with a green ter. I think I have said that I knew nothing of bird's-eye” spot; next season it would be red, the preparation; but this is not quite correct. It with a blue splash; and as the cost of a “kingshappened that I was in Jenkins's room when the man was about seven-and-sixpence, and as there person living in the parlours called up the stairs was nothing to be done with the old-fashioned that here was Mr. Crowl's man“come to take the one but to let the pawnbroker have it for as much measure :” and presently, hearing a strange step, as he would lend on it, the annual pecuniary sacI peeped out at the door to see what Mr. Crowl's rifice in this matter alone was not inconsiderable. man was like. I found him to be a dirty-faced As regards waistcoats, if my memory serves me, man, with hairy arms, and his shirt sleeves tuck- Spitalfields fashion was not quite so inexorable. ed above the elbows; and he had a brown paper so long as it was an ample waistcoat, and profusecap on.

He smoked a dirty pipe as high up the ly and cheerfully " sprigged,” that was enough. stairs as Jenkins's door; but when Mrs. Jenkins His jacket was of flannel, or velveteen, or fusgave him the key of our door, he stuck the end tian-it didn't matter which, so long as the patof it into the pipe-bowl, and extinguished the fire, tern of the buttons was according to the prevailand put the pipe in his waistcoat pocket. He ing mode. It was the buttons that stamped the carried a pair of trestles on his shoulder, and ob- garment. If “plain pearly shankers served that he thought he might just as well Fashion's latest edict, to sport glass “ blue bells," bring them with him now as to come on purpose I or brass buttons of the game-keeping school, im



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