Japhet, in Search of a Father / Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848Japhet, in Search of a Father / Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848| Author: | Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848 |
| Title: | Japhet, in Search of a Father |
| Date: | 2005-06-05 |
| Contributor(s): | Clontz, Timothy [Translator] |
| Size: | 814456 |
| Identifier: | etext15991 |
| Language: | en |
| Publisher: | Project Gutenberg |
| Rights: | GNU General Public License |
| Tag(s): | timothy japhet time father frederick marryat ebook cost restrictions whatsoever search project gutenberg clontz translator |
| Versions: | original; local mirror; plain HTML (this file); concordance (most frequent 100 words, etc.) |
| Related: | Alex Catalogue of Electronic Texts |
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Project Gutenberg's Japhet, In Search Of A Father, by Frederick Marryat
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Title: Japhet, In Search Of A Father
Author: Frederick Marryat
Release Date: June 5, 2005 [EBook #15991]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER ***
Produced by Ted Garvin, Daniel Mahu, Charlene Taylor and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF A FATHER
BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT
LONDON
J.M. DENT AND CO.
BOSTON: LITTLE, BROWN AND CO.
MDCCCXCVI
Contents
CHAPTER I 1
CHAPTER II 7
CHAPTER III 14
CHAPTER IV 18
CHAPTER V 24
CHAPTER VI 29
CHAPTER VII 37
CHAPTER VIII 41
CHAPTER IX 47
CHAPTER X 53
CHAPTER XI 60
CHAPTER XII 67
CHAPTER XIII 73
CHAPTER XIV 79
CHAPTER XV 84
CHAPTER XVI 91
CHAPTER XVII 98
CHAPTER XVIII 104
CHAPTER XIX 110
CHAPTER XX 113
CHAPTER XXI 118
CHAPTER XXII 123
CHAPTER XXIII 130
CHAPTER XXIV 134
CHAPTER XXV 139
CHAPTER XXVI 144
CHAPTER XXVII 147
CHAPTER XXVIII 152
CHAPTER XXIX 156
CHAPTER XXX 160
CHAPTER XXXI 165
CHAPTER XXXII 169
CHAPTER XXXIII 173
CHAPTER XXXIV 176
CHAPTER XXXV 182
CHAPTER XXXVI 187
CHAPTER XXXVII 192
CHAPTER XXXVIII 196
CHAPTER XXXIX 201
CHAPTER XL 206
CHAPTER XLI 211
CHAPTER XLII 216
CHAPTER XLIII 220
CHAPTER XLIV 224
CHAPTER XLV 229
CHAPTER XLVI 234
CHAPTER XLVII 237
CHAPTER XLVIII 241
CHAPTER XLIX 247
CHAPTER L 251
CHAPTER LI 254
CHAPTER LII 259
CHAPTER LIII 265
CHAPTER LIV 268
CHAPTER LV 273
CHAPTER LVI 279
CHAPTER LVII 285
CHAPTER LVIII 290
CHAPTER LIX 294
CHAPTER LX 299
CHAPTER LXI 305
CHAPTER LXII 310
CHAPTER LXIII 314
CHAPTER LXIV 319
CHAPTER LXV 322
CHAPTER LXVI 327
CHAPTER LXVII 333
CHAPTER LXVIII 338
CHAPTER LXIX 344
CHAPTER LXX 349
CHAPTER LXXI 355
CHAPTER LXXII 362
CHAPTER LXXIII 259
CHAPTER LXXIV 378
CHAPTER LXXV 387
CHAPTER LXXVI 394
CHAPTER LXXVII 400
CHAPTER LXXVIII 408
CHAPTER LXXIX 414
Prefatory Note
In the _Metropolitan Magazine_, where this novel originally appeared
(Sep. 1834-Jan. 1836), Marryat prepared his readers for its reception in
the following words:--
"And having now completed 'Jacob Faithful,' we trust to the satisfaction
of our readers, we will make a few remarks. We commenced writing on our
own profession, and having completed four tales, novels, or whatever you
may please to call them" (viz., Frank Mildmay, The King's Own, Newton
Forster, Peter Simple), "in 'Jacob Faithful' we quitted the _salt_ water
for the _fresh_. From the wherry we shall now step on shore, and in our
next number we shall introduce to our readers 'The Adventures of
_Japhet_, in search of his Father.'"
The promise was faithfully kept, and Japhet, with all his varied
experience, never went to sea. There were indeed few companies on land
to which he did not penetrate. Reared in a foundling hospital, and
apprenticed to a Smithfield apothecary, his good looks, impulsive
self-confidence, and unbounded talent for lying, carried him with eclat
through the professions of quack doctor, juggler, and mountebank,
gentleman about town, tramp, and quaker: to emerge triumphantly at last
as the only son of a wealthy Anglo-Indian general, or "Bengal tiger," as
his friends preferred to call him.
Japhet's "adventures," of course, are shared by a faithful friend and
ally, Timothy Oldmixon, the Sancho to his Quixote, originally an orphan
pauper like himself, composed of two qualities--fun and affection. He
encounters villains, lawyers, kind-hearted peers, "rooks" and "pigeons,"
gipsies, leaders of fashion, fair maidens--enough and to spare. In a
word, Marryat here makes use of well-worn material, and uses it well. He
has constructed a tale of private adventure on the old familiar lines,
in which the local colour--acquired from other books--is admirably laid
on, and the interest sustained to the end. The story is well told,
enlivened by humour, and very respectably constructed.
The reader will find _Japhet_ thoroughly exciting, and will have no
difficulty in believing that, while it was running in the pages of the
_Metropolitan_, "an American vessel meeting an English one in the broad
Atlantic, instead of a demand for water or supplies, ran up the question
to her mast-head, 'Has Japhet found his father yet?'"
_Japhet, in search of a Father_, is here re-printed, with a few
corrections, from the first edition in 3 vols. Saunders & Otley, 1836.
On page 360 a few words, enclosed in square brackets, have been
inserted from the magazine version, as the abbreviated sentence, always
hitherto reproduced from the first edition, is unintelligible.
R.B.J.
* * * * *
Japhet, in Search of a Father
Chapter I
Like most other children, who should be my godfather is decided by
Mammon--So precocious as to make some noise in the world and be
hung a few days after I was born--Cut down in time and produce a
scene of bloodshed--My early propensities fully developed by the
choice of my profession
Those who may be pleased to honour these pages with a perusal, will not
be detained with a long introductory history of my birth, parentage, and
education. The very title implies that, at this period of my memoirs, I
was ignorant of the two first; and it will be necessary for the due
development of my narrative, that I allow them to remain in the same
state of bliss; for in the perusal of a tale, as well as in the
pilgrimage of life, ignorance of the future may truly be considered as
the greatest source of happiness. The little that was known of me at
this time I will however narrate as concisely, and as correctly, as I am
able. It was on the--I really forget the date, and must rise from my
chair, look for a key, open a closet, and then open an iron safe to hunt
over a pile of papers--it will detain you too long--it will be
sufficient to say that it was on _a_ night--but whether the night was
dark or moonlit, or rainy or foggy, or cloudy or fine, or starlight, I
really cannot tell; but it is of no very great consequence. Well, it was
on a night about the hour--there again I'm puzzled, it might have been
ten, or eleven, or twelve, or between any of these hours; nay it might
have been past midnight, and far advancing to the morning, for what I
know to the contrary. The reader must excuse an infant of--there again
I am at a nonplus; but we will assume of some days old--if, when wrapped
up in flannel and in a covered basket, and, moreover, fast asleep at the
time, he does not exactly observe the state of the weather, and the time
by the church clock. I never before was aware of the great importance of
dates in telling a story; but it is now too late to recover these facts,
which have been swept away into oblivion by the broad wing of Time. I
must therefore just tell the little I do know, trusting to the reader's
good nature, and to blanks. It is as follows:--that, at the hour--of
the night--the state of the weather being also--I, an infant of a
certain age--was suspended by somebody or somebodies--at the knocker
of the Foundling Hospital. Having made me fast, the said somebody or
somebodies rang a peal upon the bell which made the old porter start up
in so great a hurry, that, with the back of his hand he hit his better
half a blow on the nose, occasioning a great suffusion of blood from
that organ, and a still greater pouring forth of invectives from the
organ immediately below it.
All this having been effected by the said peal on the bell, the said
somebody or somebodies did incontinently take to their heels, and
disappear long before the old porter could pull his legs through his
nether garments and obey the rude summons. At last the old man swung
open the gate, and the basket swung across his nose; he went in again
for a knife and cut me down, for it was cruel to hang a baby of a few
days old; carried me into the lodge, lighted a candle, and opened the
basket. Thus did I metaphorically first come to light.
When he opened the basket I opened my eyes, and although I did not
observe it, the old woman was standing at the table in very light
attire, sponging her nose over a basin.
"Verily, a pretty babe with black eyes!" exclaimed the old man in a
tremulous voice.
"Black eyes indeed," muttered the old woman. "I shall have two
to-morrow."
"Beautiful black eyes indeed!" continued the old man.
"Terrible black eyes, for sartain," continued the old woman, as she
sponged away.
"Poor thing, it must be cold," murmured the old porter.
"Warrant I catch my death a-cold," muttered the wife.
"But, dear me, here's a paper!" exclaimed the old man.
"Vinegar and brown paper," echoed the old woman.
"Addressed to the governors of the hospital," continued the porter.
"Apply to the dispenser of the hospital," continued his wife.
"And sealed," said he.
"Get it healed," said she.
"The linen is good; it must be the child of no poor people. Who
knows?"--soliloquised the old man.
"My poor nose!" exclaimed the old woman.
"I must take it to the nurses, and the letter I will give to-morrow,"
said the old porter, winding up his portion of this double soliloquy,
and tottering away with the basket and your humble servant across the
courtyard.
"There, it will do now," said the old wife, wiping her face on a towel,
and regaining her bed, in which she was soon joined by her husband, and
they finished their nap without any further interruption during that
night.
The next morning I was reported and examined, and the letter addressed
to the governors was opened and read. It was laconic, but still, as most
things laconic are, very much to the point.
"This child was born in wedlock--he is to be named Japhet. When
circumstances permit, he will be reclaimed."
But there was a postscript by Abraham Newlands, Esq., promising to pay
the bearer, on demand, the sum of fifty pounds. In plainer terms, there
was a bank note to that amount inclosed in the letter. As in general,
the parties who suspend children in baskets, have long before suspended
cash payments, or, at all events, forget to suspend them with the
baskets, my arrival created no little noise, to which I added my share,
until I obtained a share of the breast of a young woman, who, like
Charity, suckled two or three babies at one time.
We have preparatory schools all over the kingdom; for young gentlemen,
from three to five years of age, under ladies, and from four to seven,
under either, or both sexes, as it may happen; but the most preparatory
of all preparatory schools, is certainly the Foundling Hospital, which
takes in its pupils, if they are sent, from one to three days old, or
even hours, if the parents are in such extreme anxiety about their
education. Here it commences with their weaning, when they are
instructed in the mystery of devouring pap; next, they are taught to
walk--and as soon as they can walk--to sit still; to talk--and as soon
as they can talk--to hold their tongues; thus are they instructed and
passed on from one part of the establishment to another, until they
finally are passed out of its gates, to get on in the world, with the
advantages of some education, and the still further advantage of having
no father or mother to provide for, or relatives to pester them with
their necessities. It was so with me: I arrived at the age of fourteen,
and notwithstanding the promise contained in the letter, it appeared
that circumstances did _not_ permit of my being reclaimed. But I had a
great advantage over the other inmates of the hospital; the fifty pounds
sent with me were not added to the funds of the establishment, but
generously employed for my benefit by the governors, who were pleased
with my conduct, and thought highly of my abilities. Instead of being
bound 'prentice to a cordwainer or some other mechanic, by the influence
of the governors, added to the fifty pounds and interest, as a premium,
I was taken by an apothecary, who engaged to bring me up to the
profession. And now, that I am out of the Foundling, we must not travel
quite so fast.
The practitioner who thus took me by the hand was a Mr Phineas Cophagus,
whose house was most conveniently situated for business, one side of
the shop looking upon Smithfield Market, the other presenting a surface
of glass to the principal street leading out of the same market. It was
a _corner_ house, but not in a _corner_. On each side of the shop were
two gin establishments, and next to them were two public-houses and then
two eating-houses, frequented by graziers, butchers, and drovers. Did
the men drink so much as to quarrel in their cups, who was so handy to
plaister up the broken heads as Mr Cophagus? Did a fat grazier eat
himself into an apoplexy, how very convenient was the ready lancet of Mr
Cophagus. Did a bull gore a man, Mr Cophagus appeared with his diachylon
and lint. Did an ox frighten a lady, it was in the back parlour of Mr
Cophagus that she was recovered from her syncope. Market days were a
sure market to my master; and if an overdriven beast knocked down
others, it only helped to set him on his legs. Our windows suffered
occasionally; but whether it were broken heads, or broken limbs, or
broken windows, they were well paid for. Every one suffered but Mr
Phineas Cophagus, who never suffered a patient to escape him. The shop
had the usual allowance of green, yellow, and blue bottles; and in hot
weather, from our vicinity, we were visited by no small proportion of
bluebottle flies. We had a white horse in one window, and a brown horse
in the other, to announce to the drovers that we supplied
horse-medicines. And we had all the patent medicines in the known world,
even to the "all-sufficient medicine for mankind" of Mr Enouy; having
which, I wondered, on my first arrival, why we troubled ourselves about
any others. The shop was large, and at the back part there was a most
capacious iron mortar, with a pestle to correspond. The first floor was
tenanted by Mr Cophagus, who was a bachelor; the second floor was let;
the others were appropriated to the housekeeper, and to those who formed
the establishment. In this well-situated tenement, Mr Cophagus got on
swimmingly. I will therefore, for the present, sink the shop, that my
master may rise in the estimation of the reader, when I describe his
person and his qualifications.
Mr Phineas Cophagus might have been about forty-five years of age when I
first had the honour of an introduction to him in the receiving room of
the Foundling Hospital. He was of the middle height, his face was thin,
his nose very much hooked, his eyes small and peering, with a
good-humoured twinkle in them, his mouth large, and drawn down at one
corner. He was stout in his body, and carried a considerable
protuberance before him, which he was in the habit of patting with his
left hand very complacently; but although stout in his body, his legs
were mere spindles, so that, in his appearance, he reminded you of some
bird of the crane genus. Indeed, I may say, that his whole figure gave
you just such an impression as an orange might do, had it taken to
itself a couple of pieces of tobacco pipes as vehicles of locomotion. He
was dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, white cravat and high collar
to his shirt, blue cotton net pantaloons and Hessian boots, both fitting
so tight, that it appeared as if he was proud of his spindle shanks. His
hat was broad-brimmed and low, and he carried a stout black cane with a
gold top in his right hand, almost always raising the gold top to his
nose when he spoke, just as we see doctors represented at a consultation
in the caricature prints. But if his figure was strange, his language
and manners were still more so. He spoke, as some birds fly, in jerks,
intermixing his words, for he never completed a whole sentence, with
_um--um--_and ending it with "_so on,_" leaving his hearers to supply
the context from the heads of his discourse. Almost always in motion, he
generally changed his position as soon as he had finished speaking,
walking to any other part of the room, with his cane to his nose, and
his head cocked on one side, with a self-sufficient tiptoe gait. When I
was ushered into his presence, he was standing with two of the
governors. "This is the lad," said one of them, "his name is _Japhet_."
"Japhet," replied Mr Cophagus; "um, scriptural--Shem, Ham, _um_--and so
on. Boy reads?"
"Very well, and writes a very good hand. He is a very good boy, Mr
Cophagus."
"Read--write--spell--good, and _so on_. Bring him
up--rudiments--spatula--write labels--um--M.D. one of these days--make a
man of him--and so on," said this strange personage, walking round and
round me with his cane to his nose, and scrutinising my person with his
twinkling eyes. I was dismissed after this examination and approval, and
the next day, dressed in a plain suit of clothes, was delivered by the
porter at the shop of Mr Phineas Cophagus, who was not at home when I
arrived.
Chapter II
Like all Tyros, I find the rudiments of learning extremely
difficult and laborious, but advance so rapidly than I can do
without my Master.
A tall, fresh-coloured, but hectic looking young man, stood behind the
counter, making up prescriptions, and a dirty lad, about thirteen years
old, was standing near with his basket to deliver the medicines to the
several addresses, as soon as they were ready. The young man behind the
counter, whose name was Brookes, was within eighteen months of serving
his time, when his friends intended to establish him on his own account,
and this was the reason which induced Mr Cophagus to take me, that I
might learn the business, and supply his place when he left. Mr Brookes
was a very quiet, amiable person, kind to me and the other boy who
carried out the medicines, and who had been taken by Mr Cophagus, for
his food and raiment. The porter told Mr Brookes who I was, and left me.
"Do you think that you will like to be an apothecary?" said Mr Brookes
to me, with a benevolent smile.
"Yes; I do not see why I should not," replied I.
"Stop a moment," said the lad who was waiting with the basket, lookly
archly at me, "you hav'n't got through your _rudimans_ yet."
"Hold your tongue, Timothy," said Mr Brookes. "That you are not very
fond of the rudiments, as Mr Cophagus calls them, is very clear. Now
walk off as fast as you can with these medicines, sir--14, Spring
Street; 16, Cleaver Street, as before; and then to John Street, 55, Mrs
Smith's. Do you understand?"
"To be sure I do--can't I read? I reads all the directions, and all your
Latin stuff into the bargain--all your summen dusses, horez, diez,
cockly hairy. I mean to set up for myself one of these days."
"I'll knock you down one of these days, Mr Timothy, if you stay so long
as you do, looking at the print shops; that you may depend upon."
"I keep up all my learning that way," replied Timothy, walking off with
his load, turning his head round and laughing at me, as he quitted the
shop. Mr Brookes smiled, but said nothing.
As Timothy went out, in came Mr Cophagus. "Heh! Japhet--I see," said he,
putting up his cane, "nothing to do--bad--must work--um--and so on. Mr
Brookes--boy learn rudiments--good--and so on." Hereupon Mr Cophagus
took his cane from his nose, pointed to the large iron mortar, and then
walked away into the back parlour. Mr Brookes understood his master, if
I did not. He wiped out the mortar, threw in some drugs, and, showing me
how to use the pestle, left me to my work. In half an hour I discovered
why it was that Timothy had such an objection to what Mr Cophagus
facetiously termed the _rudiments_ of the profession. It was dreadful
hard work for a boy; the perspiration ran down me in streams, and I
could hardly lift my arms. When Mr Cophagus passed through the shop and
looked at me, as I continued to thump away with the heavy iron pestle.
"Good,"--said he, "by-and-bye--M.D.--and so on." I thought it was a very
rough road to such preferment, and I stopped to take a little breath.
"By-the-by--Japhet--Christian name--and so on--sirname--heh!"
"Mr Cophagus wishes to know your other name," said Mr Brookes,
interpreting.
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
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."
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?"
"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 Timothy.
"Selling two vials instead of one: they are never reckoned, you know."
"That will do capitally," cried Timothy; "and now for halves." But this
could not be managed until Timothy had run out and changed the sixpence;
we then each had our three-pence halfpenny, and for once in our lives
could say that we had money in our pockets.
Chapter III
I perform a wonderful cure upon St John Long's principle, having
little or no principle of my own--I begin to puzzle my head with a
problem; of all others most difficult to solve.
The success of our first attempt encouraged us to proceed; but afraid
that I might do some mischief, I asked of Mr Brookes the nature and
qualities of the various medicines, as he was mixing the prescriptions,
that I might avoid taking any of those which were poisonous. Mr Brookes,
pleased with my continual inquiries, gave me all the information I could
desire, and thus I gained, not only a great deal of information, but
also a great deal of credit with Mr Cophagus, to whom Mr Brookes had
made known my diligence and thirst for knowledge.
"Good--very good," said Mr Cophagus; "fine boy--learns his
business--M.D. one of these days--ride in his coach--um, and so on."
Nevertheless, at my second attempt, I made an awkward mistake, which
very nearly led to detection. An Irish labourer, more than half tipsy,
came in one evening, and asked whether we had such a thing as was called
"_A poor man's plaister_. By the powers, it will be a poor man's
plaister when it belongs to me; but they tell me that it is a sure and
sartain cure for the thumbago, as they call it, which I've at the small
of my back, and which is a hinder to my mounting up the ladder; so as
it's Saturday night, and I've just got the money, I'll buy the plaister
first, and then try what a little whiskey inside will do, the devil's in
it if it won't be driven out of me between the two."
We had not that plaister in the shop, but we had blister plaister, and
Timothy, handing one to me, I proffered it to him. "And what may you be
after asking for this same?" inquired he.
The blister plaisters were sold at a shilling each, when spread on
paper, so I asked him eighteen-pence, that we might pocket the extra
sixpence.
"By the powers, one would think that you had made a mistake, and handed
me the rich man's plaister, instead of the poor one's. It's less whiskey
I'll have to drink, anyhow; but here's the money, and the top of the
morning to ye, seeing as how it's jist getting late."
Timothy and I laughed as we divided the sixpence. It appeared that after
taking his allowance of whiskey, the poor fellow fixed the plaister on
his back when he went to bed, and the next morning found himself in a
condition not be envied. It was a week before we saw him again, and much
to the horror of Timothy and myself, he walked into the shop when Mr
Brookes was employed behind the counter. Timothy perceived him before he
saw us, and pulling me behind the large mortar, we contrived to make our
escape into the back parlour, the door of which we held ajar to hear
what would take place.
"Murder and turf!" cried the man, "but that was the devil's own plaister
that you gave me here for my back, and it left me as raw as a turnip,
taking every bit of my skin off me entirely, foreby my lying in bed for
a whole week, and losing my day's work."
"I really do not recollect supplying you with a plaister, my good man,"
replied Mr Brookes.
"Then by the piper that played before Moses, if you don't recollect it,
I've an idea that I shall never forget it. Sure enough, it cured me, but
wasn't I quite kilt before I was cured?"
"It must have been some other shop," observed Mr Brookes. "You have made
a mistake."
"Devil a bit of a mistake, except in selling me the plaister. Didn't I
get it of a lad in this same shop?"
"Nobody sells things out of this shop without my knowledge."
The Irishman was puzzled--he looked round the shop. "Well, then, if this
a'n't the shop, it was own sister to it."
"Timothy," called Mr Brookes.
"And sure enough there was a Timothy in the other shop, for I heard the
boy call the other by the name; however, it's no matter, if it took off
the skin, it also took away the thumbago, so the morning to you, Mr
Pottykarry."
When the Irishman departed, we made our appearance. "Japhet, did you
sell a plaister to an Irishman?"
"Yes--don't you recollect, last Saturday? and I gave you the shilling."
"Very true; but what did he ask for?"
"He asked for a plaister, but he was very tipsy. I showed him a blister,
and he took it;" and then I looked at Timothy and laughed.
"You must not play such tricks," said Mr Brookes. "I see what you have
been about--it was a joke to you, but not to him."
Mr Brookes, who imagined we had sold it to the Irishman out of fun, then
gave us a very severe lecture, and threatened to acquaint Mr Cophagus,
if ever we played such tricks again. Thus the affair blew over, and it
made me very careful; and, as every day I knew more about medicines, I
was soon able to mix them, so as to be of service to those who applied,
and before eighteen months had expired, I was trusted with the mixing up
all the prescriptions. At the end of that period Mr Brookes left us, and
I took the whole of his department upon myself, giving great
satisfaction to Mr Cophagus.
And now that I have announced my promotion, it will perhaps be as well
that I give the reader some idea of my personal appearance, upon which I
have hitherto been silent. I was thin, between fifteen and sixteen years
old, very tall for my age, and of my figure I had no reason to be
ashamed; a large beaming eye, with a slightly aquiline nose, a high
forehead, fair in complexion, but with very dark hair. I was always what
may be termed a remarkably clean-looking boy, from the peculiarity of my
skin and complexion; my teeth were small, but were transparent, and I
had a very deep dimple in my chin. Like all embryo apothecaries, I
carried in my appearance, if not the look of wisdom, most certainly that
of self-sufficiency, which does equally well with the world in general.
My forehead was smooth, and very white, and my dark locks were combed
back systematically, and with a regularity that said, as plainly as hair
could do, "The owner of this does everything by prescription,
measurement, and rule." With my long fingers I folded up the little
packets, with an air as thoughtful and imposing as that of a minister
who has just presented a protocol as interminable as unintelligible: and
the look of solemn sagacity with which I poured out the contents of one
vial into the other, would have well become the king's physician, when
he watched the "lord's anointed" in _articulo mortis_.
As I followed up my saturnine avocation, I generally had an open book on
the counter beside me; not a marble-covered dirty volume, from the
Minerva press, or a half-bound, half-guinea's worth of fashionable
trash, but a good, honest, heavy-looking, wisdom-implying book, horribly
stuffed with epithet of drug; a book in which Latin words were
redundant, and here and there were to be observed the crabbed characters
of Greek. Altogether, with my book and my look, I cut such a truly
medical appearance, that even the most guarded would not have hesitated
to allow me the sole conduct of a whitlow, from inflammation to
suppuration, and from suppuration to cure, or have refused to have
confided to me the entire suppression of a gumboil. Such were my
personal qualifications at the time that I was raised to the important
office of dispenser of, I may say, life and death.
It will not surprise the reader when I tell him that I was much noticed
by those who came to consult, or talk with, Mr Cophagus. "A very fine
looking lad that, Mr Cophagus," an acquaintance would say. "Where did
you get him--who is his father?"
"Father!" Mr Cophagus would reply, when they had gained the
back parlour, but I could overhear him, "father, um--can't
tell--love--concealment--child born--foundling hospital--put out--and so
on."
This was constantly occurring, and the constant occurrence made me
often reflect upon my condition, which otherwise I might, from the happy
and even tenor of my life, have forgotten. When I retired to my bed I
would revolve in my mind all that I had gained from the governors of the
hospital relative to myself.--The paper found in the basket had been
given to me. I was born in wedlock--at least, so said that paper. The
sum left with me also proved that my parents could not, at my birth,
have been paupers. The very peculiar circumstances attending my case,
only made me more anxious to know my parentage. I was now old enough to
be aware of the value of birth, and I was also just entering the age of
romance, and many were the strange and absurd reveries in which I
indulged. At one time I would cherish the idea that I was of a noble, if
not princely birth, and frame reasons for concealment. At others--but it
is useless to repeat the absurdities and castle buildings which were
generated in my brain from mystery. My airy fabrics would at last
disappear, and leave me in all the misery of doubt and abandoned hope.
Mr Cophagus, when the question was sometimes put to him, would say,
"Good boy--very good boy--don't want a father." But he was wrong, I did
want a father; and every day the want became more pressing, and I found
myself continually repeating the question, "_Who is my father?_"
Chapter IV
Very much puzzled with a new Patient, nevertheless take my degree
at fifteen as an M.D.; and what is still more acceptable, I pocket
the fees.
The departure of Mr Brookes, of course, rendered me more able to follow
up with Timothy my little professional attempts to procure pocket-money;
but independent of these pillages by the aid of pills, and making drafts
upon our master's legitimate profits, by the assistance of draughts from
his shop, accident shortly enabled me to raise the ways and means in a
more rapid manner. But of this directly.
In the meantime I was fast gaining knowledge; every evening I read
surgical and medical books, put into my hands by Mr Cophagus, who
explained whenever I applied to him, and I soon obtained a very fair
smattering of my profession. He also taught me how to bleed, by making
me, in the first instance, puncture very scientifically, all the larger
veins of a cabbage-leaf, until well satisfied with the delicacy of my
hand, and the precision of my eye, he wound up his instructions by
permitting me to breathe a vein in his own arm.
"Well," said Timothy, when he first saw me practising, "I have often
heard it said, there's no getting blood out of a turnip; but it seems
there is more chance with a cabbage. I tell you what, Japhet, you may
try your hand upon me as much as you please, for two-pence a go."
I consented to this arrangement, and by dint of practising on Timothy
over and over again, I became quite perfect. I should here observe, that
my anxiety relative to my birth increased every day, and that in one of
the books lent me by Mr Cophagus, there was a dissertation upon the
human frame, sympathies, antipathies, and also on those features and
peculiarities most likely to descend from one generation to another. It
was there asserted, that the _nose_ was the facial feature most likely
to be transmitted from father to son. As I before have mentioned, my
nose was rather aquiline; and after I had read this book, it was
surprising with what eagerness I examined the faces of those whom I met;
and if I saw a nose upon any man's face, at all resembling my own, I
immediately would wonder and surmise whether that person could be my
father. The constant dwelling upon the subject at last created a species
of monomania, and a hundred times a day I would mutter to myself, _"Who
is my father?"_ indeed, the very bells, when they rung a peal, seemed,
as in the case of Whittington, to chime the question, and at last I
talked so much on the subject to Timothy, who was my _Fidus Achates,_
and bosom friend, that I really believe, partial as he was to me, he
wished my father at the devil.
Our shop was well appointed with all that glare and glitter with which
we decorate the "_house of call_" of disease and death. Being situated
in such a thoroughfare, passengers would stop to look in, and
ragged-vested, and in other garments still more ragged, little boys
would stand to stare at the variety of colours, and the 'pottecary
gentleman, your humble servant, who presided over so many
labelled-in-gold phalanxes which decorated the sides of the shop.
Among those who always stopped and gazed as she passed by, which was
generally three or four times a day, was a well-dressed female,
apparently about forty years of age, straight as an arrow, with an
elasticity of step, and a decision in her manner of walking, which was
almost masculine, although her form, notwithstanding that it was tall
and thin, was extremely feminine and graceful. Sometimes she would fix
her eyes upon me, and there was a wildness in her looks, which certainly
gave a painful impression, and at the same time so fascinated me, that
when I met her gaze, the paper which contained the powder remained
unfolded, and the arm which was pouring out the liquid suspended.
She was often remarked by Timothy, as well as me; and we further
observed, that her step was not equal throughout the day. In her latter
peregrinations, towards the evening, her gait was more vigorous, but
unequal, at the same time that her gaze was more stedfast. She usually
passed the shop for the last time each day, about five o'clock in the
afternoon.
One evening, after we had watched her past, as we supposed, to return no
more till the ensuing morning, for this peeping in, on her part, had
become an expected occurrence, and afforded much amusement to Timothy,
who designated her as the "mad woman," to our great surprise, and to the
alarm of Timothy, who sprang over the counter, and took a position by my
side, she walked into the shop. Her eye appeared wild, as usual, but I
could not make out that it was insanity. I recovered my
self-possession, and desired Timothy to hand the lady a chair, begging
to know in what way I could be useful. Timothy walked round by the end
of the counter, pushed a chair near to her, and then made a hasty
retreat to his former position. She declined the chair with a motion of
her hand, in which there was much dignity, as well as grace, and placing
upon the counter her hands, which were small and beautifully white, she
bent forwards towards me, and said, in a sweet, low voice, which
actually startled me by its depth of melody, "I am very ill."
My astonishment increased. Why, I know not, because the exceptions are
certainly as many as the general rule, we always form an estimate of the
voice before we hear it, from the outward appearance of the speaker; and
when I looked up in her face, which was now exposed to the glare of the
argand lamp, and witnessed the cadaverous, pale, chalky expression on
it, and the crow's feet near the eyes, and wrinkles on her forehead, I
should have sooner expected to have heard a burst of heavenly symphony
from a thunder-cloud, than such music as issued from her parted lips.
"Good heavens, madam!" said I eagerly and respectfully, "allow me to
send for Mr Cophagus."
"By no means," replied she. "I come to you. I am aware," continued she
in an undertone, "that you dispense medicines, give advice, and receive
money yourself."
I felt very much agitated, and the blush of detection mounted up to my
forehead. Timothy, who heard what she said, showed his uneasiness in a
variety of grotesque ways. He drew up his legs alternately, as if he
were dancing on hot plates; he slapped his pockets, grinned, clenched
his fists, ground his teeth, and bit his lips till he made the blood
come. At last he sidled up to me, "She has been peeping and screwing
those eyes of her's into this shop for something. It's all up with both
of us, unless you can buy her off."
"I have, madam," said I, at last, "ventured to prescribe in some trivial
cases, and, as you say, received money when my master is not here; but I
am entrusted with the till."
"I know--I know--you need not fear me. You are too modest. What I would
request is, that you would prescribe for me, as I have no great opinion
of your master's talents."
"If you wish it, madam," said I, bowing respectfully.
"You have camphor julep ready made up, have you not?"
"Yes, madam," replied I.
"Then do me the favour to send the boy with a bottle to my house
directly." I handed down the bottle, she paid for it, and putting it
into Timothy's hands, desired him to take it to the direction which she
gave him. Timothy put on his hat, cocked his eye at me, and left us
alone.
"What is your name?" said she, in the same melodious voice.
"Japhet Newland, madam," replied I.
"Japhet--it is a good, a scriptural name," said the lady, musirg in half
soliloquy. "Newland--that sounds of mammon."
"This mystery is unravelled," thought I, and I was right in my
conjectures. "She is some fanatical methodist;" but I looked at her
again, and her dress disclaimed the idea, for in it there was much taste
displayed.
"Who gave you that name?" said she, after a pause.
The question was simple enough, but it stirred up a host of annoying
recollections; but not wishing to make a confidant of her, I gently
replied, as I used to do in the Foundling Hospital on Sunday
morning--"My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism, ma'am."
"My dear sir, I am very ill," said she, after a pause, "will you feel my
pulse?"
I touched a wrist, and looked at a hand that was worthy of being
admired. What a pity, thought I, that she should be old, ugly, and half
crazy!
"Do you not think that this pulse of mine exhibits considerable nervous
excitement? I reckoned it this morning, it was at a hundred and twenty."
"It certainly beats quick," replied I, "but perhaps the camphor julep
may prove beneficial."
"I thank you for your advice, Mr Newland," said she, laying down a
guinea, "and if I am not better, I will call again, or send for you.
Good-night."
She walked out of the shop, leaving me in no small astonishment. What
could she mean? I was lost in reverie, when Timothy returned. The guinea
remained on the counter.
"I met her going home," said he. "Bless me--a guinea--why, Japhet!" I
recounted all that had passed. "Well, then, it has turned out well for
us instead of ill, as I expected."
The _us_ reminded me that we shared profits on these occasions, and I
offered Timothy his half; but Tim, with all his _espieglerie_ was not
selfish, and he stoutly refused to take his share. He dubbed me an M.D.,
and said I had beat Mr Cophagus already, for he had never taken a
physician's fee.
"I cannot understand it, Timothy," said I, after a few minutes' thought.
"I can," replied Timothy. "She has looked in at the window until she has
fallen in love with your handsome face; that's it, depend upon it." As I
could find no other cause, and Tim's opinion was backed by my own
vanity, I imagined that such must be the case. "Yes, 'tis so," continued
Timothy, "as the saying is, there's money bid for you."
"I wish that it had not been by so ill-favoured a person, at all events,
Tim," replied I; "I cannot return her affection."
"Never mind that, so long as you don't return the money."
The next evening she made her appearance, bought, as before, a bottle of
camphor julep--sent Timothy home with it, and asking my advice, paid me
another guinea.
"Really, madam," said I, putting it back towards her, "I am not entitled
to it."
"Yes, you are," replied she. "I know you have no friends, and I also
know that you deserve them. You must purchase books, you must study, or
you never will be a great man." She then sat down, entered into
conversation, and I was struck with the fire and vigour of the remarks,
which were uttered in such a melodious tone.
Her visits, during a month, were frequent, and every time did she press
upon me a fee. Although not in love with her person, I certainly felt
very grateful, and moreover was charmed with the superiority of her
mind. We were now on the most friendly and confiding terms. One evening
she said to me, "Japhet, we have now been friends some time. Can I trust
you?"
"With your life, if it were necessary," replied I.
"I believe it," said she. "Then can you leave the shop and come to me
to-morrow evening?"
"Yes, if you will send your maid for me, saying that you are not well."
"I will, at eight o'clock. Farewell, then, till to-morrow."
Chapter V
My vanity receives a desperate wound, but my heart remains
unscathed--An anomaly in woman, one who despises beauty.
The next evening I left Timothy in charge, and repaired to her house; it
was very respectable in outward appearance, as well as its furniture. I
was not, however, shown up into the first floor, but into the room
below.
"Miss Judd will come directly, sir," said a tall, meagre,
puritanical-looking maid, shutting the door upon me. In a few minutes,
during which my pulse beat quick (for I could not but expect some
disclosure; whether it was to be one of love or murder, I hardly knew
which), Miss Aramathea Judd, for such was her christian name, made her
appearance, and sitting down on the sofa, requested me to take a seat by
her.
"Mr Newland," said she, "I wish to--and I think I can entrust you with a
secret most important to me. Why I am obliged to do it, you will
perfectly comprehend when you have heard my story. Tell me, are you
attached to me?"
This was a home question to a forward lad of sixteen. I took her by the
hand, and when I looked down on it, I felt as if I was. I looked up into
her face, and felt that I was not. And, as I now was close to her, I
perceived that she must have some aromatic drug in her mouth, as it
smelt strongly--this gave me the supposition that the breath which drew
such melodious tones, was not equally sweet, and I felt a certain
increased degree of disgust.
"I am very grateful, Miss Judd," replied I; "I hope I shall prove that I
am attached when you confide in me."
"Swear then, by all that's sacred, you will not reveal what I do
confide."
"By all that's sacred I will not," replied I, kissing her hand with more
fervour than I expected from myself.
"Do me then the favour to excuse me one minute."
She left the room, and in a very short time, there returned, in the same
dress, and, in every other point the same person, but with a young and
lively face of not more, apparently, than twenty-two or twenty-three
years old. I started as if I had seen an apparation. "Yes," said she,
smiling, "you now see Aramathea Judd without disguise; and you are the
first who has seen that face for more than two years. Before I proceed
further, again I say, may I trust you--swear!"
"I do swear," replied I, and took her hand for the book, which this time
I kissed with pleasure, over and over again. Like a young jackass as I
was, I still retained her hand, throwing as much persuasion as I
possibly could in my eyes. In fact, I did enough to have softened the
hearts of three bonnet-makers. I began to feel most dreadfully in love,
and thought of marriage, and making my fortune, and I don't know what;
but all this was put an end to by one simple short sentence, delivered
in a very decided but soft voice, "Japhet, don't be silly."
I was crushed, and all my hopes crushed with me. I dropped her hand, and
sat like a fool.
"And now hear me. I am, as you must have already found out, an impostor;
that is, I am what is called a religious adventuress--a new term, I
grant, and perhaps only applicable to a very few. My aunt was
considered, by a certain sect, to be a great prophetess, which I hardly
need tell you, was all nonsense; nevertheless, there are hundreds who
believed in her, and do so now. Brought up with my aunt, I soon found
out what fools and dupes may be made of mankind by taking advantage of
their credulity. She had her religious inspirations, her trances, and
her convulsions, and I was always behind the scenes: she confided in me,
and I may say that I was her only confidant. You cannot, therefore,
wonder at my practising that deceit to which I have been brought up from
almost my infancy. In person I am the exact counterpart of what my aunt
was at my age, equally so in figure, although my figure is now disguised
to resemble that of a woman of her age. I often had dressed myself in my
aunt's clothes, put on her cap and front, and then the resemblance was
very striking. My aunt fell sick and died, but she promised the
disciples that she would re-appear to them, and they believed her. I did
not. She was buried, and by many her return was anxiously expected. It
occurred to me about a week afterwards that I might contrive to deceive
them. I dressed in my aunt's clothes, I painted and disguised my face as
you have seen, and the deception was complete, even to myself, as I
surveyed my countenance in the glass. I boldly set off in the evening to
the tabernacle, which I knew they still frequented--came into the midst
of them, and they fell down and worshipped me as a prophetess risen from
the dead; deceived, indeed, by my appearance, but still more deceived
by their own credulity. For two years I have been omnipotent with them;
but there is one difficulty which shakes the faith of the new converts,
and new converts I must have, Japhet, as the old ones die, or I should
not be able to fee my physician. It is this: by habit I can almost throw
myself into a stupor or a convulsion, but to do that effectually, to be
able to carry on the deception for so long a time, and to undergo the
severe fatigue attending such violent exertion, it is necessary that I
have recourse to stimulants--do you understand?"
"I do," replied I; "I have more than once thought you under the
influence of them towards the evening. I'm afraid that you take more
than is good for your health."
"Not more than I require for what I have to undergo to keep up the faith
of my disciples; but there are many who waver, some who doubt, and I
find that my movements are watched. I cannot trust the woman in this
house. I think she is a spy set upon me, but I cannot remove her, as
this house, and all which it contains, are not mine, but belong to the
disciples in general. There is another woman, not far off, who is my
rival; she calls me an impostor, and says that she is the true
prophetess, and that I am not one. This will be rather difficult for her
to prove," continued she, with a mocking smile. "Beset as I am, I
require your assistance, for you must be aware that it is rather
discreditable to a prophetess, who has risen from the dead, to be seen
all day at the gin-shop, yet without stimulants now, I could not exist."
"And how can I assist you?"
"By sending me, as medicine, that which I dare no longer procure in any
other way, and keeping the secret which I have imparted."
"I will do both with pleasure; but yet," said I, "is it not a pity, a
thousand pities, that one so young--and if you will allow me to add, so
lovely, should give herself up to ardent spirits? Why," continued I,
taking her small white hand, "why should you carry on the deception;
why sacrifice your health, and I may say your happiness--" What more I
might have said I know not, probably it might have been an offer of
marriage, but she cut me short.
"Why does everybody sacrifice their health, their happiness, their all,
but for ambition and the love of power? It is true, as long as this
little beauty lasts, I might be courted as a woman, but never should I
be worshipped as--I may say--a god.--No, no, there is something too
delightful in that adoration, something too pleasant in witnessing a
crowd of fools stare, and men of three times my age, falling down and
kissing the hem of my garment. This is, indeed, adoration! the delight
arising from it is so great, that all other passions are crushed by
it--it absorbs all other feelings, and has closed my heart even against
love, Japhet. I could not, I would not debase myself, sink so low in my
own estimation, as to allow so paltry a passion to have dominion over
me; and, indeed, now that I am so wedded to stimulants, even if I were
no longer a prophetess, it never could."
"But is not intoxication one of the most debasing of all habits?"
"I grant you, in itself, but with me and in my situation it is
different. I fall to rise again, and higher. I cannot be what I am
without I simulate--I cannot simulate without stimulants, therefore it
is but a means to a great and glorious ambition."
I had more conversation with her before I left, but nothing appeared to
move her resolution, and I left her lamenting, in the first place, that
she had abjured love, because, notwithstanding the orris root, which she
kept in her mouth to take away the smell of the spirits, I found myself
very much taken with such beauty of person, combined with so much vigour
of mind; and in the second, that one so young should carry on a system
of deceit and self-destruction. When I rose to go away she put five
guineas in my hand, to enable me to purchase what she required. "Add to
this one small favour," said I, "Aramathea--allow me a kiss."
"A kiss," replied she, with scorn; "no, Japhet, look upon me, for it is
the last time you will behold my youth; look upon me as a sepulchre,
fair without but unsavoury and rottenness within. Let me do you a
greater kindness, let me awaken your dormant energies, and plant that
ambition in your soul, which may lead to all that is great and good--a
better path and more worthy of a man than the one which I have partly
chosen, and partly destiny has decided for me. Look upon me as your
friend; although perhaps, you truly say, no friend unto myself.
Farewell--remember that to-morrow you will send the medicine which I
require."
I left her, and returned home: it was late. I went to bed, and having
disclosed as much to Timothy as I could safely venture to do, I fell
fast asleep, but her figure and her voice haunted me in my dreams. At
one time, she appeared before me in her painted, enamelled face, and
then the mask fell off, and I fell at her feet to worship her extreme
beauty; then her beauty would vanish, and she would appear 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
cured by my dream of the penchant which I felt towards Miss Aramathea
Judd.
Chapter VI
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
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
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 he, as his adversary reeled back; "take that, and be d----d to
you, for running against a _gentleman_."
He of the rubicund hair had retreated, because so violent was the blow
he could not help so doing, and we all must yield to fate. But it was
not from fear. Seizing a vile potation that was labelled "to be taken
immediately," and hurling it with demoniacal force right on the chops of
the courageous Timothy, "Take that!" cried he, with a rancorous yell.
This missile, well directed as the spears of Homer's heroes, came full
upon the bridge of Timothy's nose, and the fragile glass shivering,
inflicted divers wounds upon his physiognomy, and at the same time
poured forth a dark burnt-sienna coloured balsam, to heal them, giving
pain unutterable. Timothy, disdaining to lament the agony of his wounds,
followed the example of his antagonist, and hastily seizing a similar
bottle of much larger dimensions, threw it with such force that it split
between the eyes of his opponent. Thus with these dreadful weapons did
they commence the mortal strife.
The lovers of _good order_, or at least of fair play, gathered round the
combatants, forming an almost impregnable ring, yet of sufficient
dimensions to avoid the missiles. _"Go it, red-head!" "Bravo! white
apron!"_ resounded on every side. Draughts now met draughts in their
passage through the circumambient air, and exploded like shells over a
besieged town. Bolusses were fired with the precision of cannon shot,
pill-boxes were thrown with such force that they burst like grape and
canister, while acids and alkalies hissed, as they neutralised each
other's power, with all the venom of expiring snakes, "Bravo! white
apron!" "Red-head for ever!" resounded on every side as the conflict
continued with unabated vigour. The ammunition was fast expending on
both sides, when Mr Ebenezer Pleggit, hearing the noise, and perhaps
smelling his own drugs, was so unfortunately rash and so unwisely
foolhardy, as to break through the sacred ring, advancing from behind
with uplifted cane to fell the redoubtable Timothy, when a mixture of
his own, hurled by his own red-haired champion, caught him in his open
mouth, breaking against his only two remaining front teeth, extracting
them as the discharged liquid ran down his throat, and turning him as
sick as a dog. He fell, was taken away on a shutter, and it was some
days before he was again to be seen in his shop, dispensing those
medicines which, on this fatal occasion, he would but too gladly have
dispensed with.
Reader, have you not elsewhere read in the mortal fray between knights,
when the casque has been beaten off, the shield lost, and the sword
shivered, how they have resorted to closer and more deadly strife with
their daggers raised on high? Thus it was with Timothy: his means had
failed, and disdaining any longer to wage a distant combat, he closed
vigorously with his panting enemy, overthrew him in the first struggle,
seizing from his basket the only weapons which remained, one single
vial, and one single box of pills. As he sat upon his prostrate foe,
first he forced the box of pills into his gasping mouth, and then with
the lower end of the vial he drove it down his throat, as a gunner rams
home the wad and shot into a thirty-two pound carronade. Choked with the
box, the fallen knight held up his hands for quarter; but Timothy
continued until the end of the vial breaking out the top and bottom of
the pasteboard receptacle, forty-and-eight of antibilious pills rolled
in haste down Red-head's throat. Timothy then seized his basket, and
amid the shouts of triumph, walked away. His fallen-crested adversary
coughed up the remnants of the pasteboard, once more breathed, and was
led disconsolate to the neighbouring pump; while Timothy regained our
shop with his blushing honours thick upon him.
But I must drop the vein heroical. Mr Cophagus, who was at home when
Timothy returned, was at first very much inclined to be wroth at the
loss of so much medicine; but when he heard the story, and the finale,
he was so pleased at Tim's double victory over Mr Pleggit and his
messenger, that he actually put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out
half-a-crown.
Mr Pleggit, on the contrary, was any thing but pleased; he went to a
lawyer, and commenced an action for assault and battery, and all the
neighbourhood did nothing but talk about the affray which had taken
place, and the action at law which it was said would take place in the
ensuing term.
But with the exception of this fracas, which ended in the action not
holding good, whereby the animosity was increased, I have little to
recount during the remainder of the time I served under Mr Cophagus. I
had been more than three years with him when my confinement became
insupportable. I had but one idea, which performed an everlasting cycle
in my brain--Who was my father? And I should have abandoned the
profession to search the world in the hope of finding my progenitor, had
it not been that I was without the means. Latterly, I had hoarded up all
I could collect; but the sum was small, much too small for the proposed
expedition. I became melancholy, indifferent to the business, and
slovenly in my appearance, when a circumstance occurred which put an end
to my further dispensing medicines, and left me a free agent.
Chapter VII
Looking out for business not exactly minding your own business--The
loss of the scales occasions the loss of place to Timothy and me,
who when weighed in other scales were found wanting--We bundle off
with our bundles on.
It happened one market-day that there was an overdriven, infuriated
beast, which was making sad havoc. Crowds of people were running past
our shop in one direction, and the cries of "Mad bull!" were re-echoed
in every quarter. Mr Cophagus, who was in the shop, and to whom, as I
have before observed, a mad bull was a source of great profit, very
naturally looked out of the shop to ascertain whether the animal was
near to us. In most other countries, when people hear of any danger,
they generally avoid it by increasing their distance; but in England, it
is too often the case, that they are so fond of indulging their
curiosity, that they run to the danger. Mr Cophagus, who perceived the
people running one way, naturally supposed, not being aware of the
extreme proximity of the animal, that the people were running to see
what was the matter, and turned his eyes in that direction, walking out
on the pavement that he might have a fairer view. He was just observing,
"Can't say--fear--um--rascal Pleggit--close to him--get all the
custom--wounds--contusions--and"--when the animal came suddenly round
the corner upon Mr Cophagus, who had his eyes the other way, and before
he could escape, tossed him through his own shop windows, and landed him
on the counter. Not satisfied with this, the beast followed him into the
shop. Timothy and I pulled Mr Cophagus over towards us, and he dropped
inside the counter, where we also crouched, frightened out of our wits.
To our great horror the bull made one or two attempts to leap the
counter; but not succeeding, and being now attacked by the dogs and
butcher boys, he charged at them through the door, carrying away our
best scales on his horns as a trophy, as he galloped out of the shop in
pursuit of his persecutors. When the shouts and hallooes were at some
little distance, Timothy and I raised our heads and looked round us; and
perceiving that all was safe, we proceeded to help Mr Cophagus, who
remained on the floor bleeding, and in a state of insensibility. We
carried him into the back parlour and laid him on the sofa. I desired
Timothy to run for surgical aid as fast as he could, while I opened a
vein; and in a few minutes he returned with our opponent, Mr Ebenezer
Pleggit. We stripped Mr Cophagus, and proceeded to examine him. "Bad
case this--very bad case indeed, Mr Newland--dislocation of the os
humeri--severe contusion on the os frontis--and I'm very much afraid
there is some intercostal injury. Very sorry, very sorry, indeed, for my
brother Cophagus." But Mr Pleggit did not appear to be sorry; on the
contrary, he appeared to perform his surgical duties with the greatest
glee.
We reduced the dislocation, and then carried Mr Cophagus up to his bed.
In an hour he was sensible, and Mr Pleggit took his departure, shaking
hands with Mr Cophagus, and wishing him joy of his providential escape.
"Bad job, Japhet," said Mr Cophagus to me.
"Very bad indeed, sir; but it might have been worse."
"Worse--um--no, nothing worse--not possible."
"Why, sir, you might have been killed."
"Pooh!--didn't mean that--mean Pleggit--rascal--um--kill me if he
can--sha'n't though--soon get rid of him--and so on."
"You will not require his further attendance now that your shoulder is
reduced. I can very well attend upon you."
"Very true, Japhet;--but won't go--sure of that--damned rascal--quite
pleased--I saw it--um--eyes twinkled--smile checked--and so on."
That evening Mr Pleggit called in as Mr Cophagus said that he would,
and the latter showed a great deal of impatience; but Mr Pleggit
repeated his visits over and over again, and I observed that Mr Cophagus
no longer made any objection; on the contrary, seemed anxious for his
coming, and still more so, after he was convalescent, and able to sit at
his table. But the mystery was soon divulged. It appeared that Mr
Cophagus, although he was very glad that other people should suffer from
mad bulls, and come to be cured, viewed the case in a very different
light when the bull thought proper to toss him, and having now realised
a comfortable independence, he had resolved to retire from business, and
from a site attended with so much danger. A hint of this escaping him
when Mr Pleggit was attending him on the third day after his accident,
the latter, who knew the value of the _locale_, also hinted that if Mr
Cophagus was inclined so to do, that he would be most happy to enter
into an arrangement with him. Self-interest will not only change
friendship into enmity, in this rascally world, but also turn enmity
into friendship. All Mr Pleggit's enormities, and all Mr Cophagus'
shameful conduct, were mutually forgotten. In less than ten minutes it
was, "_My dear Mr Pleggit_, and so on," and "_My dear brother
Cophagus_."
In three weeks every thing had been arranged between them, and the shop,
fixtures, stock in trade, and good will, were all the property of our
ancient antagonist. But although Mr Pleggit could shake hands with Mr
Cophagus for his fixtures and _good will_, yet as Timothy and I were not
included in the _good will_, neither were we included among the
_fixtures_, and Mr Cophagus could not, of course, interfere with Mr
Pleggit's private arrangements. He did all he could do in the way of
recommendation, but Mr Pleggit had not forgotten my occasional
impertinences or the battle of the bottles. I really believe that his
_ill will_ against Timothy was one reason for purchasing the _good will_
of Mr Cophagus, and we were very gently told by Mr Pleggit that he would
have no occasion for our services.
Mr Cophagus offered to procure me another situation as soon as he could,
and at the same time presented me with twenty guineas, as a proof of
his regard and appreciation of my conduct--but this sum put in my hand
decided me: I thanked him, and told him I had other views at present,
but hoped he would let me know where I might find him hereafter, as I
should be glad to see him again. He told me he would leave his address
for me at the Foundling Hospital, and shaking me heartily by the hand,
we parted. Timothy was then summoned. Mr Cophagus gave him five guineas,
and wished him good fortune.
"And now, Japhet, what are you about to do?" said Timothy, as he
descended into the shop.
"To do," replied I; "I am about to leave you, which is the only thing I
am sorry for. I am going, Timothy, in search of my father."
"Well," replied Timothy, "I feel as you do, Japhet, that it will be hard
to part; and there is another thing on my mind--which is, I am very
sorry that the bull did not break the rudimans (pointing to the iron
mortar and pestle); had he had but half the spite I have against it, he
would not have left a piece as big as a thimble. I've a great mind to
have a smack at it before I go."
"You will only injure Mr Cophagus, for the mortar will not then be paid
for."
"Very true; and as he has just given me five guineas, I will refrain
from my just indignation. But now, Japhet, let me speak to you. I don't
know how you feel, but I feel as if I could not part with you. I do not
want to go in search of my father particularly. They say it's a wise
child that knows its own father--but as there can be no doubt of my
other parent--if I can only hit upon her, I have a strong inclination to
go in search of my mother, and if you like my company, why I will go
with you--always, my dear Japhet," continued Tim, "keeping in my mind
the great difference between a person who has been feed as an M.D., and
a lad who only carries out his prescriptions."
"Do you really mean to say, Tim, that you will go with me?"
"Yes, to the end of the world, Japhet, as your companion, your friend,
and your servant, if you require it. I love you, Japhet, and I will
serve you faithfully."
"My dear Tim, I am delighted; now I am really happy: we will have but
one purse, and but one interest; if I find good fortune, you shall share
it."
"And if you meet with ill luck, I will share that too--so the affair is
settled--and as here come Mr Pleggit's assistants with only one pair of
eyes between them, the sooner we pack up the better."
In half an hour all was ready; a bundle each, contained our wardrobes.
We descended from our attic, walked proudly through the shop without
making any observation, or taking any notice of our successors; all the
notice taken was by Timothy, who turned round and shook his fist at his
old enemies, the iron mortar and pestle; and there we were, standing on
the pavement, with the wide world before us, and quite undecided which
way we should go.
"Is it to be east, west, north, or south, Japhet?" said Timothy.
"The wise men came from the east," replied I.
"Then they must have travelled west," said Tim; "let us show our wisdom
by doing the same."
"Agreed."
Passing by a small shop, we purchased two good sticks, as defenders, as
well as to hang our bundles on--and off we set upon our pilgrimage.
Chapter VIII
We take a coach, but the driver does not like his fare and hits us
foul--We change our mode of travelling upon the principle of slow
and sure, and fall in with a very learned man.
I believe it to be a very general custom, when people set off upon a
journey, to reckon up their means--that is, to count the money which
they may have in their pockets. At all events, this was done by Timothy
and me, and I found that my stock amounted to twenty-two pounds
eighteen shillings, and Timothy's to the five guineas presented by Mr
Cophagus, and three halfpence which were in the corner of his waistcoat
pocket--sum total, twenty-eight pounds three shillings and three
halfpence; a very handsome sum, as we thought, with which to commence
our peregrinations, and, as I observed to Timothy, sufficient to last us
for a considerable time, if husbanded with care.
"Yes," replied he, "but we must husband our legs also, Japhet, or we
shall soon be tired, and very soon wear out our shoes. I vote we take a
hackney coach."
"Take a hackney coach, Tim! we mustn't think of it; we cannot afford
such a luxury; you can't be tired yet, we are now only just clear of
Hyde Park Corner."
"Still I think we had better take a coach, Japhet, and here is one
coming. I always do take one when I carry out medicines, to make up for
the time I lose looking at the shops, and playing peg in the ring."
I now understood what Timothy meant, which was, to get behind and have a
ride for nothing. I consented to this arrangement, and we got up behind
one which was already well filled inside. "The only difference between
an inside and outside passenger in a hackney coach, is that one pays,
and the other does not," said I, to Timothy, as we rolled along at the
act of parliament speed of four miles per hour.
"That depends upon circumstances: if we are found out, in all
probability we shall not only have our ride, but be _paid_ into the
bargain."
"With the coachman's whip, I presume?"
"Exactly." And Timothy had hardly time to get the word out of his mouth,
when flac, flac, came the whip across our eyes--a little envious wretch,
with his shirt hanging out of his trousers, having called out, _Cut
behind!_ Not wishing to have our faces, or our behinds cut any more, we
hastily descended, and reached the footpath, after having gained about
three miles on the road before we were discovered.
"That wasn't a bad lift, Japhet, and as for the whip I never mind that
with _corduroys_. And now, Japhet, I'll tell you something; we must get
into a wagon, if we can find one going down the road, as soon as it is
dark."
"But that will cost money, Tim."
"It's economy, I tell you; for a shilling, if you bargain, you may ride
the whole night, and if we stop at a public-house to sleep, we shall
have to pay for our beds, as well as be obliged to order something to
eat, and pay dearer for it than if we buy what we want at cooks' shops."
"There is sense in what you say, Timothy; we will look out for a wagon."
"Oh! it's no use now--wagons are like black beetles, not only in shape
but in habits, they only travel by night--at least most of them do. We
are now coming into long dirty Brentford, and I don't know how you feel,
Japhet, but I find that walking wonderfully increases the
appetite--that's another reason why you should not walk when you can
ride--for nothing."
"Well, I'm rather hungry myself; and dear me, how very good that piece
of roast pork looks in that window!"
"I agree with you--let's go in and make a bargain!"
We bought a good allowance for a shilling, and after sticking out for a
greater proportion of mustard than the woman said we were entitled to,
and some salt, we wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and continued our
course, till we arrived at a baker's, where we purchased our bread, and
then taking up a position on a bench outside a public-house, called for
a pot of beer, and putting our provisions down before us, made a hearty,
and, what made us more enjoy it, an independent meal. Having finished
our pork and our porter, and refreshed ourselves, we again started and
walked till it was quite dark, when we felt so tired that we agreed to
sit down on our bundles and wait for the first wagon which passed. We
soon heard the jingling of bells, and shortly afterwards its enormous
towering bulk appeared between us and the sky. We went up to the
wagoner, who was mounted on a little pony, and asked him if he could
give two poor lads a lift, and how much he would charge us for the ride.
"How much can you afford to give, measters? for there be others as poor
as ye." We replied that we could give a shilling. "Well, then, get up in
God's name, and ride as long as you will. Get in behind."
"Are there many people in there already?" said I, as I climbed up, and
Timothy handed me the bundles.
"Noa," replied the wagoner, "there be nobody but a mighty clever
poticary or doctor, I can't tell which; but he wear an uncommon queer
hat, and he talk all sort of doctor stuff--and there be his odd man and
his odd boy; that be all, and there be plenty of room, and plenty o'
clean _stra_'."
After this intimation we climbed up, and gained a situation in the rear
of the wagon under the cloth. As the wagoner said, there was plenty of
room, and we nestled into the straw without coming into contact with the
other travellers. Not feeling any inclination to sleep, Timothy and I
entered into conversation, _sotto voce_, and had continued for more than
half an hour, supposing by their silence that the other occupants of the
wagon were asleep, when we were interrupted by a voice clear and
sonorous as a bell.
"It would appear that you are wanderers, young men, and journey you know
not whither. Birds seek their nests when the night falls--beasts hasten
to their lairs--man bolts his door. '_Propria quae maribus_,' as
Herodotus hath it; which, when translated, means, that 'such is the
nature of mankind.' '_Tribuuntur mascula dicas_' 'Tell me your
troubles,' as Homer says."
I was very much surprised at this address--my knowledge of the language
told me immediately that the quotations were out of the Latin grammar,
and that all his learning was pretence; still there was a novelty of
style which amused me, and at the same time gave me an idea that the
speaker was an uncommon personage. I gave Timothy a nudge, and then
replied,
"You have guessed right, most learned sir; we are, as you say, wanderers
seeking our fortunes, and trust yet to find them--still we have a weary
journey before us, '_Haustus hora somni sumendum_,' as Aristotle hath
it; which I need not translate to so learned a person as yourself."
"Nay, indeed, there is no occasion; yet am I pleased to meet with one
who hath scholarship," replied the other. "Have you also a knowledge of
the Greek?"
"No, I pretend not to Greek."
"It is a pity that thou hast it not, for thou wouldst delight to
commune with the ancients. Esculapius hath these
words--'A_shol_der--offmotton--_acca_pon--pasti--venison,'--which I will
translate for thee--'We often find what we seek, when we least expect
it.' May it be so with you, my friend. Where have you been educated? and
what has been your profession?"
I thought I risked little in telling, so I replied, that I had been
brought up as a surgeon and apothecary, and had been educated at a
foundation school.
"'Tis well," replied he; "you have then commenced your studies in my
glorious profession; still, have you much to learn; years of toil, under
a great master, can only enable you to benefit mankind as I have done,
and years of hardship and of danger must be added thereunto, to afford
you the means. There are many hidden secrets. '_Ut sunt Divorum, Mars,
Bacchus, Apollo, Virorum_,'--many parts of the globe to traverse, '_Ut
Cato, Virgilius, fluviorum, ut Tibris, Orontes._' All these have I
visited, and many more. Even now do I journey to obtain more of my
invaluable medicine, gathered on the highest Andes, when the moon is in
her perigee. There I shall remain for months among the clouds, looking
down upon the great plain of Mexico, which shall appear no larger than
the head of a pin, where the voice of man is heard not. '_Vocito,
vocitas vocitavi_,' bending for months towards the earth. '_As in
presenti_,' suffering with the cold--'_frico quod fricui dat_,' as
Eusebius hath it. Soon shall I be borne away by the howling winds
towards the new world, where I can obtain more of the wonderful
medicine, which I may say never yet hath failed me, and which nothing
but love towards my race induces me to gather at such pains and risk."
"Indeed, sir," replied I, amused with his imposition, "I should like to
accompany you--for, as Josephus says most truly, '_Capiat pillulae duae
post prandium_.' Travel is, indeed, a most delightful occupation, and I
would like to run over the whole world."
"And I would like to follow you," interrupted Timothy. "I suspect we
have commenced our _grand tour_ already--three miles behind a
hackney-coach--ten on foot, and about two, I should think, in this
wagon. But as Cophagus says, _Cochlearija crash many summendush_,' which
means, 'there are ups and downs in this world.'"
"Hah!" exclaimed our companion. "He, also, has the rudiments."
"Nay, I hope I've done with the _Rudimans_," replied Timothy.
"Is he your follower?" inquired the man.
"That very much depends upon who walks first," replied Timothy, "but
whether or no--we hunt in couples."
"I understand--you are companions. '_Concordat cum nominativo numero et
persona_.' Tell me, can you roll pills, can you use the pestle and the
mortar, handle the scapula, and mix ingredients?"
I replied that of course I knew my profession.
"Well, then, as we have still some hours of night, let us now obtain
some rest. In the morning, when the sun hath introduced us to each
other, I may then judge from your countenances whether it is likely that
we may be better acquainted. Night is the time for repose, as Quintus
Curtius says, '_Custos, bos, fur atque sacerdos_. Sleep was made for
all--my friends, good-night."
Chapter IX
In which the adventures in the wagon are continued, and we become
more puzzled with our new companions--We leave off talking Latin,
and enter into an engagement.
Timothy and I took his advice, and were soon fast asleep. I was awakened
the next morning by feeling a hand in my trouser's pocket. I seized it,
and held it fast.
"Now just let go my hand, will you?" cried a lachrymal voice.
I jumped up--it was broad daylight, and looked at the human frame to
which the hand was an appendix. It was a very spare, awkwardly-built
form of a young man, apparently about twenty years old, but without the
least sign of manhood on his chin. His face was cadaverous, with large
goggling eyes, high cheek bones, hair long and ragged, reminding me of a
rat's nest, thin lips, and ears large almost as an elephant's. A more
woe-begone wretch in appearance I never beheld, and I continued to look
at him with surprise. He repeated his words with an idiotical
expression, "Just let go my hand, can't you?"
"What business had your hand in my pocket?" replied I, angrily.
"I was feeling for my pocket-handkerchief," replied the young man. "I
always keeps it in my breeches' pocket."
"But not in your neighbour's, I presume?"
"My neighbour's!" replied he, with a vacant stare. "Well, so it is, I
see now--I thought it was my own."
I released his hand; he immediately put it into his own pocket, and drew
out his handkerchief, if the rag deserved the appellation. "There," said
he, "I told you I put it in that pocket--I always do."
"And pray who are you?" said I, as I looked at his dress, which was a
pair of loose white Turkish trousers, and an old spangled jacket.
"Me! why, I'm the fool."
"More knave than fool, I expect," replied I, still much puzzled with his
strange appearance and dress.
"Nay, there you mistake," said the voice of last night. "He is not only
a fool by profession, but one by nature. It is a half-witted creature,
who serves me when I would attract the people. Strange in this world,
that wisdom may cry in the streets without being noticed, yet folly will
always command a crowd."
During this address I turned my eyes upon the speaker. He was an
elderly-looking person, with white hair, dressed in a suit of black,
ruffles and frill. His eyes were brilliant, but the remainder of his
face it was difficult to decipher, as it was evidently painted, and the
night's jumbling in the wagon had so smeared it, that it appeared of
almost every colour in the rainbow. On one side of him lay a large
three-cornered cocked hat, on the other, a little lump of a boy, rolled
up in the straw like a marmot, and still sound asleep. Timothy looked at
me, and when he caught my eye, burst out into a laugh.
"You laugh at my appearance, I presume," said the old man, mildly.
"I do in truth," replied Timothy. "I never saw one like you before, and
I dare say never shall again."
"That is possible; yet probably if you meet me again, you would not know
me."
"Among a hundred thousand," replied Timothy, with increased mirth.
"We shall see, perhaps," replied the quack doctor, for such the reader
must have already ascertained to be his profession; "but the wagon has
stopped, and the driver will bait his horses. If inclined to eat, now is
your time. Come, Jumbo, get up; Philotas, waken him, and follow me."
Philotas, for so was the fool styled by his master, twisted up some
straw, and stuffed the end of it into Jumbo's mouth. "Now, Jumbo will
think he has got something to eat. I always wake him that way," observed
the fool, grinning at us.
It certainly, as might be expected, did waken Jumbo, who uncoiled
himself, rubbed his eyes, stared at the tilt of the wagon, then at us,
and without saying a word, rolled himself out after the fool. Timothy
and I followed. We found the doctor bargaining for some bread and bacon,
his strange appearance exciting much amusement, and inducing the people
to let him have a better bargain than perhaps otherwise they would have
done. He gave a part of the refreshment to the boy and the fool, and
walked out of the tap-room with his own share. Timothy and I went to the
pump, and had a good refreshing wash, and then for a shilling were
permitted to make a very hearty breakfast. The wagon having remained
about an hour, the driver gave us notice of his departure; but the
doctor was no where to be found. After a little delay, the wagoner drove
off, cursing him for a _bilk_, and vowing that he'd never have any more
to do with a "lamed man." In the mean time, Timothy and I had taken our
seats in the wagon, in company with the fool, and Master Jumbo. We
commenced a conversation with the former, and soon found out, as the
doctor had asserted, that he really was an idiot, so much so, that it
was painful to converse with him. As for the latter, he had coiled
himself away to take a little more sleep. I forgot to mention, that the
boy was dressed much in the same way as the fool, in an old spangled
jacket, and dirty white trousers. For about an hour Timothy and I
conversed, remarking upon the strange disappearance of the doctor,
especially as he had given us hopes of employing us; in accepting which
offer, if ever it should be made, we had not made up our minds, when we
were interrupted with a voice crying out, "Hillo, my man, can you give a
chap a lift as far as Reading, for a shilling?"
"Ay, get up, and welcome," replied the wagoner.
The wagon did not stop, but in a moment or two the new passenger climbed
in. He was dressed in a clean smock frock, neatly worked up the front,
leather gaiters, and stout shoes; a bundle and a stick were in his hand.
He smiled as he looked round upon the company, and showed a beautiful
set of teeth. His face was dark, and sun-burnt, but very handsome, and
his eyes as black as coals, and as brilliant as gas. "Heh! player
folk--I've a notion," said he, as he sat down, looking at the doctor's
attendants, and laughing at us. "Have you come far, gentlemen?"
continued he.
"From London," was my reply.
"How do the crops look up above, for down here the turnips seem to have
failed altogether? Dry seasons won't do for turnips."
I replied that I really could not satisfy him on that point, as it was
dark when we passed.
"Very true--I had forgotten that," replied he. "However, the barleys
look well; but perhaps you don't understand farming?"
I replied in the negative, and the conversation was kept up for two or
three hours, in the course of which I mentioned the quack doctor, and
his strange departure.
"That is the fellow who cured so many people at ----," replied he; and
the conversation then turned upon his profession and mode of life, which
Timothy and I agreed must be very amusing. "We shall meet him again, I
dare say," replied the man. "Would you know him?"
"I think so, indeed," replied Timothy, laughing.
"Yes, and so you would think that you would know a guinea from a
halfpenny, if I put it into your hands," replied the man. "I do not wish
to lay a bet, and win your money; but I tell you, that I will put either
the one or the other into each of your hands, and if you hold it fast
for one minute, and shut your eyes during that time, you will not be
able to tell me which it is that you have in it."
"That I am sure I would," replied Tim; and I made the same assertion.
"Well, I was taken in that way at a fair, and lost ten shillings by the
wager; now, we'll try whether you can tell or not." He took out some
money from his pocket, which he selected without our seeing it, put a
coin into the hand of each of us, closing our fists over it, "and now,"
said he, "keep your eyes shut for a minute."
We did so, and a second or two afterwards we heard a voice which we
instantly recognised. "Nay, but it was wrong to leave me on the way side
thus, having agreed to pay the sum demanded. At my age one walketh not
without fatigue, _Excipenda tamen quaedam sunt urbium_, as Philostratus
says, meaning, 'that old limbs lose their activity, and seek the help of
a crutch.'"
"There's the doctor," cried Timothy, with his eyes still shut.
"Now open your eyes," said the man, "and tell me, before you open your
hand, what there is in it."
"A halfpenny in mine," said Tim.
"A guinea in mine," replied I.
We opened our hands, and they were _empty_.
"Where the devil is it?" exclaimed I, looking at Tim.
"And where the devil's the doctor?" replied he, looking round.
"The money is in the doctor's pocket," replied the man, smiling.
"Then where is the doctor's pocket?"
"Here," replied he, slapping his pocket, and looking significantly at
us. "I thought you were certain of knowing him again. About as certain
as you were of telling the money in your hand."
He then, to our astonishment, imitated the doctor's voice, and quoted
_prosody syntax, and Latin_. Timothy and I were still in astonishment,
when he continued, "If I had not found out that you were in want of
employ, and further, that your services would be useful to me, I should
not have made this discovery. Do you now think that you know enough to
enter into my service? It is light work, and not bad pay; and now you
may choose."
"I trust," said I, "that there is no dishonesty?"
"None that you need practise, if you are so scrupulous; perhaps your
scruples may some day be removed. I make the most of my wares--every
merchant does the same. I practise upon the folly of mankind--it is on
that, that wise men live."
Timothy gave me a push, and nodded his head for me to give my consent. I
reflected a few seconds, and at last I extended my hand. "I consent,"
replied I, "with the reservation I have made."
"You will not repent," said he; "and I will take your companion, not
that I want him particularly, but I do want you. The fact is, I want a
lad of gentlemanly address, and handsome appearance--with the very
knowledge you possess--and now we will say no more for the present.
By-the-bye, was that real Latin of yours?"
"No," replied I, laughing; "you quoted the grammar, and I replied with
medical prescriptions. One was as good as the other."
"Quite--nay, better; for the school-boys may find me out, but not you.
But now observe, when we come to the next cross road, we must get
down--at least, I expect so; but we shall know in a minute."
In about the time he mentioned, a dark, gipsy-looking man looked into
the wagon, and spoke to our acquaintance in an unknown language. He
replied in the same, and the man disappeared. We continued our route for
about a quarter of an hour, when he got out, asked us to follow him, and
speaking a few words to the fool, which I did not hear, left him and the
boy in the wagon. We paid our fare, took possession of our bundles, and
followed our new companion for a few minutes on the cross road, when he
stopped, and said, "I must now leave you, to prepare for your reception
into our fraternity; continue straight on this road until you arrive at
a lime-kiln, and wait there till I come."
He sprang over a stile, and took a direction verging at an angle from
the road, forced his way through a hedge, and disappeared from our
sight. "Upon my word, Timothy," said I, "I hardly know what to say to
this. Have we done right in trusting to this man, who, I am afraid! is
a great rogue? I do not much like mixing with these gipsy people, for
such I am sure he belongs to."
"I really do not see how we can do better," replied Timothy. "The world
is all before us, and we must force our own way through it. As for his
being a quack doctor, I see no great harm in that. People put their
faith in nostrums more than they do in regular medicines; and it is well
known that quack medicines, as they call them, cure as often as others,
merely for that very reason."
"Very true, Timothy; the mind once at ease, the body soon recovers, and
faith, even in quack medicines, will often make people whole; but do you
think that he does no more than impose upon people in that way?"
"He may, or he may not; at all events, we need do no more, I suppose."
"I am not sure of that; however, we shall see. He says we may be useful
to him, and I suppose we shall be, or he would not have engaged us--we
shall soon find out."
Chapter X
In which the reader is introduced to several new acquaintances, and
all connected with them, except birth and parentage, which appears
to be the one thing wanting throughout the whole of this work.
By this time we had arrived at the lime-kiln to which we had been
directed, and we sat down on our bundles, chatting for about five
minutes, when our new acquaintance made his appearance, with something
in his hand, tied up in a handkerchief.
"You may as well put your coats into your bundles, and put on these
frocks," said he, "you will appear better among us, and be better
received, for there is a _gathering_ now, and some of them are queer
customers. However, you have nothing to fear; when once you are with my
wife and me, you are quite safe; her little finger would protect you
from five hundred."
"Your wife! who, then, is she?" inquired I, as I put my head through the
smock frock.
"She is a great personage among the gipsies. She is, by descent, one of
the heads of the tribe, and none dare to disobey her."
"And you--are you a gipsy?"
"No, and yes. By birth I am not, but by choice, and marriage, I am
admitted; but I was not born under a hedge, I can assure you, although I
very often pass a night there now--that is, when I am domestic; but do
not think that you are to remain long here; we shall leave in a few
days, and may not meet the tribe again for months, although you may see
my own family occasionally. I did not ask you to join me to pass a
gipsy's life--no, no, we must be stirring and active. Come, we are now
close to them. Do not speak as you pass the huts, until you have entered
mine. Then you may do as you please."
We turned short round, passed through a gap in the hedge, and found
ourselves on a small retired piece of common, which was studded with
about twenty or thirty low gipsy huts. The fires were alight and
provisions apparently cooking. We passed by nine or ten, and obeyed our
guide's injunctions, to keep silence. At last we stopped, and perceived
ourselves to be standing by the fool, who was dressed like us, in a
smock frock, and Mr Jumbo, who was very busy making the pot boil,
blowing at the sticks underneath till he was black in the face. Several
of the men passed near us, and examined us with no very pleasant
expression of countenance; and we were not sorry to see our conductor,
who had gone into the hut, return, followed by a woman, to whom he was
speaking in the language of the tribe. "Nattee bids you welcome," said
he, as she approached.
Never in my life will the remembrance of the first appearance of Nattee,
and the effect it had upon me, be erased from my memory. She was tall,
too tall, had it not been for the perfect symmetry of her form. Her
face of a clear olive, and oval in shape; her eyes jetty black; nose
straight, and beautifully formed; mouth small, thin lips, with a slight
curl of disdain, and pearly teeth. I never beheld a woman of so
commanding a presence. Her feet were bare, but very small, as well as
her hands. On her fingers she wore many rings, of a curious old setting,
and a piece of gold hung on her forehead, where the hair was parted. She
looked at us, touched her high forehead with the ends of her fingers,
and waving her hand gracefully, said, in a soft voice, "You are
welcome," and then turned to her husband, speaking to him in her own
language, until by degrees they separated from us in earnest
conversation.
She returned to us after a short time, without her husband, and said, in
a voice, the notes of which were indeed soft, but the delivery of the
words was most determined; "I have said that you are welcome; sit down,
therefore, and share with us--fear nothing, you have no cause to fear.
Be faithful, then, while you serve him, and when you would quit us, say
so, and receive your leave to depart; but if you attempt to desert us
without permission, then we shall suspect that you are our enemies, and
treat you accordingly. There is your lodging while here," continued she,
pointing to another hut. "There is but one child with you, this boy
(pointing to Jumbo), who can lay at your feet. And now join us as
friends. Fleta, where are you?"
A soft voice answered from the tent of Nattee, and soon afterwards came
out a little girl, of about eleven years old. The appearance of this
child was a new source of interest. She was a little fairy figure, with
a skin as white as the driven snow--light auburn hair, and large blue
eyes; her dress was scanty, and showed a large portion of her taper
legs. She hastened to Nattee, and folding her arms across her breast,
stood still, saying meekly, "I am here."
"Know these as friends, Fleta. Send that lazy Num (this was Philotas,
the fool), for more wood, and see that Jumbo tends the fire."
Nattee smiled, and left us. I observed she went to where forty or fifty
of the tribe were assembled, in earnest discourse. She took her seat
with them, and marked deference was paid to her. In the meantime Jumbo
had blown up a brisk fire; we were employed by Fleta in shredding
vegetables, which she threw into the boiling kettle. Num appeared with
more fuel, and at last there was nothing more to do. Fleta sat down by
us, and parting her long hair, which had fallen over her eyes, looked us
both in the face.
"Who gave you that name, Fleta?" inquired I.
"They gave it me," replied she.
"And who are they?"
"Nattee, and Melchior, her husband."
"But you are not their daughter?"
"No, I am not--that is, I believe not."
The little girl stopped short, as if assured that she had said too much,
cast her eyes down on the ground, and folded her arms, so that her hands
rested on each opposite shoulder.
Timothy whispered to me, "She must have been stolen, depend upon it."
"Silence," said I.
The little girl overheard him, and looking at him, put her finger across
her mouth, looking to where Num and Jumbo were sitting. I felt an
interest for this child before I had been an hour in her company; she
was so graceful, so feminine, so mournful in the expression of her
countenance. That she was under restraint was evident; but still she did
not appear to be actuated by fear. Nattee was very kind to her, and the
child did not seem to be more reserved towards her than to others; her
mournful pensive look, was perhaps inherent to her nature. It was not
until long after our first acquaintance that I ever saw a smile upon her
features. Shortly after this little conversation Nattee returned,
walking with all the grace and dignity of a queen. Her husband, or
Melchior, as I shall in future call him, soon joined us, and we sat
down to our repast, which was excellent. It was composed of almost every
thing; sometimes I found myself busy with the wing of a fowl, at another
the leg of a rabbit--then a piece of mutton, or other flesh and fowl,
which I could hardly distinguish. To these were added every sort of
vegetable, among which potatoes predominated, forming a sort of stew,
which an epicure might have praised. I had a long conversation with
Melchior in the evening, and, not to weary the reader, I shall now
proceed to state all that I then and subsequently gathered from him and
others, relative to the parties with whom we were associating.
Melchior would not state who and what he was previous to his having
joined the fraternity of gipsies; that he was not of humble birth, and
that he had, when young, quitted his friends out of love for Nattee, or
from some other causes not to be revealed, he led me to surmise. He had
been many years in company with the tribe, and although, as one received
into it, he did not stand so high in rank and estimation as his wife,
still, from his marriage with Nattee, and his own peculiar
qualifications and dexterity, he was almost as absolute as she was.
Melchior and Nattee were supposed to be the most wealthy of all the
gipsies, and, at the same time, they were the most liberal of their
wealth. Melchior, it appeared, gained money in three different
characters; as a quack doctor, the character in which we first saw him;
secondly, as a juggler, in which art he was most expert; and thirdly, as
a fortune-teller, and _wise man_.
Nattee, as I before mentioned, was of very high rank, or caste, in her
tribe. At her first espousal of Melchior she lost much of her influence,
as it was considered a degradation; but she was then very young, and
must have been most beautiful. The talents of Melchior, and her own
spirit, however, soon enabled her to regain, and even add still more to,
her power and consideration among the tribe, and it was incredible to
what extent, with the means which she possessed, this power was
augmented.
Melchior had no children by his marriage, and, as far as I could judge
from the few words which would escape from the lips of Nattee, she did
not wish for any, as the race would not be considered pure. The
subdivision of the tribe which followed Nattee, consisted of about
forty, men, women, and children. These were ruled by her during the
absence of her husband, who alternately assumed different characters, as
suited his purpose; but in whatever town Melchior might happen to be,
Nattee and her tribe were never far off, and always encamped within
communication.
I ventured to question Melchior about the little Fleta; and he stated
that she was the child of a soldier's wife, who had been brought to bed,
and died a few hours afterwards; that, at the time, she was on her way
to join her husband, and had been taken ill on the road--had been
assisted by Nattee and her companions, as far as they were able--had
been buried by them, and that the child had been reared in the camp.
In time, the little girl became very intimate, and very partial to me. I
questioned her as to her birth, telling her what Melchior had stated;
for a long while she would not answer; the poor child had learned
caution even at that early age; but after we were more intimate, she
said, that which Melchior had stated was _not true_. She could recollect
very well living in a great house, with everything very fine about her;
but still it appeared as if it were a dream. She recollected two white
ponies--and a lady who was her mamma--and a mulberry-tree, where she
stained her frock; sometimes other things came to her memory, and then
she forgot them again. From this it was evident that she had been
stolen, and was probably of good parentage; certainly, if elegance and
symmetry of person and form, could prove blood, it never was more marked
than in this interesting child. Her abode with the gipsies, and their
peculiar mode of life and manners, had rendered her astonishingly
precocious in intellect; but of education she had none, except what was
instilled into her by Melchior, whom she always accompanied when he
assumed his character as a juggler. She then danced on the slack wire,
at the same time performing several feats in balancing, throwing of
oranges, &c. When Melchior was under other disguises, she remained in
the camp with Nattee.
Of Num, or Philotas, as Melchior thought proper to call him, I have
already spoken. He was a half-witted idiot, picked up in one of
Melchior's excursions, and as he stated to me, so did it prove to be the
fact, that when on the stage, and questioned as a fool, his natural
folly, and idiotical vacancy of countenance, were applauded by the
spectators as admirably assumed. Even at the alehouses and taverns where
we stopped, every one imagined that all his folly was pretence, and
looked upon him as a very clever fellow. There never was, perhaps, such
a lachrymose countenance as this poor lad's, and this added still more
to the mirth of others, being also considered as put on for the
occasion. Stephen Kemble played Falstaff without stuffing--Num played
the fool without any effort or preparation. Jumbo was also "picked up;"
this was not done by Melchior, who stated, that any body might have him
who claimed him; he tumbled with the fool upon the stage, and he also
ate pudding to amuse the spectators--the only part of the performance
which was suited to Jumbo's taste, for he was a terrible little glutton,
and never lost any opportunity of eating, as well as of sleeping.
And now, having described all our new companions, I must narrate what
passed between Melchior and me, the day after our joining the camp. He
first ran through his various professions, pointing out to me that as
juggler he required a confederate, in which capacity I might be very
useful, as he would soon instruct me in all his tricks. As a quack
doctor he wanted the services of both Tim and myself in mixing up,
making pills, &c., and also in assisting him in persuading the public of
his great skill. As a fortune-teller, I should also be of great service,
as he would explain to me hereafter. In short, he wanted a person of
good personal appearance and education, in whom he might confide in
every way. As to Tim, he might be made useful if he chose, in various
ways; amongst others, he wished him to learn tumbling and playing the
fool, when, at times, the fool was required to give a shrewd answer on
any point on which he would wish the public to be made acquainted. I
agreed to my own part of the performance, and then had some conversation
with Timothy, who immediately consented to do his best in what was
allotted as his share. Thus was the matter quickly arranged, Melchior
observing, that he had said nothing about remuneration, as I should find
that trusting to him was far preferable to stipulated wages.
Chapter XI
Whatever may be the opinion of the reader, he cannot assert that we
are _no conjurers_--We suit our wares to our customers, and our
profits are considerable.
We had been three days in the camp when the gathering was broken up,
each gang taking their own way. What the meeting was about I could not
exactly discover; one occasion of it was to make arrangements relative
to the different counties in which the subdivisions were to sojourn
during the next year, so that they might know where to communicate with
each other, and, at the same time, not interfere by being too near; but
there were many other points discussed, of which, as a stranger, I was
kept in ignorance. Melchior answered all my questions with apparent
candour, but his habitual deceit was such, that whether he told the
truth or not was impossible to be ascertained by his countenance.
When the gathering dispersed we packed up, and located ourselves about
two miles from the common, on the borders of a forest of oak and ash.
Our food was chiefly game, for we had some excellent poachers among us;
and as for fish, it appeared to be at their command; there was not a
pond nor a pit but they could tell in a moment if it were tenanted, and
if tenanted, in half an hour every fish would be floating on the top of
the water, by the throwing in of some intoxicating sort of berry; other
articles of food occasionally were found in the caldron; indeed, it was
impossible to fare better than we did, or at less expense.
Our tents were generally pitched not far from a pool of water, and to
avoid any unpleasant search, which sometimes would take place,
everything liable to detection was sunk under the water until it was
required for cooking; once in the pot, it was considered as safe. But
with the foraging, Timothy and I had nothing to do; we participated in
the eating, without asking any questions as to how it was procured.
My time was chiefly spent in company with Melchior, who initiated me
into all the mysteries of cups and balls--juggling of every
description--feats with cards, and made me acquainted with all his
apparatus for prepared tricks. For hours and hours was I employed by his
directions in what is called "making the pass" with a pack of cards, as
almost all tricks on cards depend upon your dexterity in this manoeuvre.
In about a month I was considered as a very fair adept; in the meantime,
Timothy had to undergo his career of gymnastics, and was to be seen all
day tumbling and retumbling, until he could tumble on his feet again.
Light and active, he soon became a very dexterous performer, and could
throw a somerset either backwards or forwards, walk on his hands, eat
fire, pull out ribbons, and do fifty other tricks to amuse a gaping
audience. Jumbo also was worked hard, to bring down his fat, and never
was allowed his dinner until he had given satisfaction to Melchior. Even
little Fleta had to practise occasionally, as we were preparing for an
expedition. Melchior, who appeared determined to create an effect, left
us for three days, and returned with not only dresses for Timothy and
me, but also new dresses for the rest of the company; and shortly
afterwards, bidding farewell to Nattee and the rest of the gipsies, we
all set out--that is, Melchior, I, Timothy, Fleta, Num, and Jumbo. Late
in the evening we arrived at the little town of ----, and took up our
quarters at a public-house, with the landlord of which Melchior had
already made arrangements.
"Well, Timothy," said I, as soon as we were in bed, "how do you like our
new life and prospects?"
"I like it better than Mr Cophagus's _rudimans_, and carrying out
physic, at all events. But how does your dignity like turning Merry
Andrew, Japhet?"
"To tell you the truth, I do not dislike it. There is a wildness and a
devil-may-care feeling connected with it which is grateful to me at
present. How long it may last I cannot tell; but for a year or two it
appears to me that we may be very happy. At all events, we shall see the
world, and have more than one profession to fall back upon."
"That is true; but there is one thing that annoys me, Japhet, which is,
we may have difficulty in leaving these people when we wish. Besides,
you forget that you are losing sight of the principal object you had in
view, that is, of 'finding out your father.'"
"I certainly never expect to find him among the gipsies," replied I,
"for children are at a premium with them. They steal from others, and
are not very likely therefore to leave them at the Foundling. But I do
not know whether I have not as good a chance in our present employment
as in any other. I have often been thinking that as fortune-tellers, we
may get hold of many strange secrets; however, we shall see. Melchior
says, that he intends to appear in that character as soon as he has made
a harvest in his present one."
"What do you think of Melchior, now that you have been so much with
him?"
"I think him an unprincipled man, but still with many good qualities.
He appears to have a pleasure in deceit, and to have waged war with the
world in general. Still he is generous, and, to a certain degree,
confiding; kind in his disposition, and apparently a very good husband.
There is something on his mind which weighs him down occasionally, and
checks him in the height of his mirth. It comes over him like a dark
cloud over a bright summer sun; and he is all gloom for a few minutes. I
do not think that he would now commit any great crime; but I have a
suspicion that he has done something which is a constant cause of
remorse."
"You are a very good judge of character, Japhet. But what a dear little
child is that Fleta! She may exclaim with you--'Who is my father?'"
"Yes, we are both in much the same predicament, and that it is which I
believe has so much increased my attachment to her. We are brother and
sister in misfortune, and a sister she ever shall be to me, if such is
the will of Heaven. But we must rise early to-morrow, Tim; so
good-night."
"Yes, to-morrow it will be juggle and tumble--eat fire--um--and so on,
as Mr Cophagus would have said; so good-night, Japhet."
The next morning we arrayed ourselves in our new habiliments; mine were
silk stockings, shoes, and white kerseymere kneed breeches, a blue silk
waistcoat loaded with tinsel, and a short jacket to correspond of blue
velvet, a sash round my waist, a h