1851 : or, The adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys and family, who came up to London to "enjoy themselves," and to see the Great Exhibition

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Stack

Annex

ml

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS,

DESIGNED AND ETCHED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

ALL THE WORLD GOING TO THE GREAT EXHIBITION Froiltisinece.

LOOKtNG FOR LODGINGS 54

LONDON CRAMMED AND MANCHESTER DESERTED .... 59

THE OPERA BOXES DURING THE TIME OF THE GREAT EXHI-
BITION 117

THE OPENING OF THE GREAT BEE-HIVE 130

THE FIRST SHILLING DAY \i)0

SOME OF THE DROLLERIES OF THE GREAT EXHIBITION . . 160

ODDS AND ENDS, IN, OUT, AND ABOUT THE GREAT EXHIBI-
TION 1<J:3

DISPERSION OF THE WORKS OF ALL NATIONS 238

l.C4££C9

1851:

OR,

THE ADVENTURES

OP

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS.

" Come, Nichol, and gi'e us tby cracks,
I seed te gang down to tbe smiddy,
I've foddei'd tlie naigs and tbe nowt,
And wanted to see tbee — 'at did e.
Ay, Andrew, lad ! draw in a stnil.

And gie ns a sbek o' tby daddle;
I got aw tbe news far and nar,

Sae set off as fast"s e conld waddle."

Nichol the Newsmongtr. — Egbert Andehsox.

riIHE GREAT EXHIBITION was about to attract the sigbt-seers
_L of all tbe world — tbe sigbt-seers, wbo make up niue-tentbs of
tbe human family. Tbe African had mounted bis ostrich. The Crisp
of tbe Desert had announced an excursion caravan from Zoolu to
Fez. The Yakutskian Shillibeer bad already started tbe first rein-
deer omnibus to Novogorod. Penny cargoes were steaming down Old
Nile, in Egj-ptian "Daylights/' and "Moonlights," while floating
from the iPunjaub, and congregating down tbe Indus, .Scindiau
"Bridesmaids" and "Bachelors" came racing up the lied Sea, with
Burmese "Watermen, Nos. 9 and 12," calling at the piers of ]\Iuscat
and Aden, to pick uj) passengers for the Isthmus — at two-peace
a-head. -^

The Esquimaux bad just purchased his new "registered paletot" of
seal-skin from the great "sweater" of the Arctic llcgions. The
Hottentot Venus had already added to the graceful ebullitions of
nature, the cbariiis of a Parisian crinoline. The Ycmassee was busy
blueing bis checks with tbe rov(/e of the backwoods. Tbe Truefit of
New Zealand bad dressed the iull buzz wig, and cut and curled the
born of tbe chief of the Papuas. The Botocudo bad ordered a new
pair of wofiden ear-rings. Tbe Marii)oosan bad ja])anne<l bis teelh with
the best Brunswick iilack (Jdonto. Tbe (.Jingalese w:is bard at work
with a Kalydor of Cocoa-Nut-Oii, polishing biniself up like a boot;
and tbe King of Dahomey — an ebony Adam— in nankeen gaitcns

n

2 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

and epaulets, was wendiug his way towards Loudon to tender his
congratulations to the Prince Consort.

Nor was the commotion confined alone to the extremes of the
world — the metropolis of Great Biitain was also in a prodigious
excitement. Alexis Soyer Avas preparing to open a restaurant
of all nations, Avhere the universe might dine, from sixpence to a
hundred guineas, off cartes ranging from pickled whelks to nightin-
gales' tongues — from the rats a la Tartare of the Chinese, to the
"turkey and truffles" of the Parisian gourmand — from the "long
sixes, au ■naturelj'' of the Russian, to the " stewed Missionary of the
Marquesas," or the '-'cold roast Bishop" of New Zealand. Here,
too, was to he a park with Swiss cottages, wherein the sober Turk
might quaff his Dublin stout ; and Chinese pagodas, from whose
golden galleries the poor German student, dreaming of the undis-
coverable nonmena of Kant, might smoke his penny Pickwick, sip
his Arabian chicory, and in a fit of absence, think of his father-land
and pocket the sugar.

St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey (" in consequence of the increased
demand") were about to double their prices of admission, when
M. JuLLlEX, " ever ready to desei*\-e the patronage of a discerning
public," made the two great English cathedrals so tempting an offer
that they " did not think themselves justified in refusing it," And
there, on alternate nights, were shortly to be exhibited, to admiring
millions, the crystal curtain, the stained glass windows illuminated
with gas, and the statues lighted up with rose-coloured lamjis ; the
"Black Band of his Majesty of Tsjaddi, with a hundred additional
bones;" the monster Jew's harp; the Euhurdy-gurdychon ; the
Musicians of Tongoose; the Singers of the Maldives; the Glee Minstrels
of Paraguay; the Troubadours of far Vancouver; the Snow Ball
Family from the Gold Coast; the Canary of the Samoiedes; the The-
ban Brothers; and, " expressly engaged for the occasion," the cele-
brated Band of Robbers from the Desert.

Barnuji, too, had " thrown up" Jenny Lind, and entered into an
agreement with the Poor Law Commissioners to pay the Poor Rates
of all England during one year for the sole possession of Somerset
House, as a " Grand Hotel for all Nations," under the highly explana-
tory title of the " Xexodokeion P.usX'OSMopolitanicox ;" where each
guest was to be provided with a bed, boudoir, and banquet, together
with one hour's use ])er diem of a valet, and a private chaplain
(according to the religious opinions of the individual); the privilege
of free admission to all the theatres and green-rooms ; the right of
entree to the Privy Council and the Palace; a knife and fork, and
spittoon at pleasure, at the tables of the nobility; a seat with night-
cap and pillow in the House of Commons, and a cigar on the Bench,
with the Judges; the free use of the columns of " The Times'" news-
paper, and the right of abusing therein their friends and hosts of the
day before ; the privilege of paying visits in the Lord Mayor's state-
carriage (with the freedom of the City of London), and of using the
Goldsmiths' state barge for aqxiatic excursions ; and finally, the

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 3

full right of presentation at the Drawing-room to her most gracious
Majesty, and of investiture with the Order of the Garter at discretion,
as well as the prerogative of sitting down, once a week, in rotation, at
the dinner -table of His Excellency General Tom-Thumb. These
advantages Mr. Barnum, to use his oAvn language, had " determined
upon offering to a generous and enlightened American public at one
shilling per head per day — numbers alone enabling him to complete
his engagements."

"While these gigantic preparations for the gratification of foreign
■vasitors were being made, the whole of the British Provinces likewise
were preparing extensively to enjoy themselves. Every city was
arranging some "monster train" to shoot the whole of its inhabi-
tants, at a halfpenny per ton, into the lodging-houses of London. All
the houses of York were on tiptoe, in the hope of shaking hands iu
Hyde Park with all the houses of Lancaster. Beds, Bucks, Notts, Wilts,
Hants, Hunts, and Herts were respectively cramming their carpet bags
anticipation of " a week in London." Not a village, a hamlet, a
borough, a township, or a wick, but had each its shilling club, for pro-
viding their inhabitants with a three days' journey to London, a
mattrass under the dry arches of the Adelphi, and tickets for soup
ad libitum. John o'Groats Avas anxiously looking forward to the
time when he was to clutch the Land's End to his bosom, — the Isle
of Man was panting to take the Isle of Dogs by the hand, and wel-
come Thanet, Sheppy, and Skye to the gaieties of a London life, —
the North Foreland was preparing for a friendly stroll up Kegent-
street with Holy-Head on his arm — and the man at Eddystone Light-
house could see the distant glimmer of a hope of shortly setting eyes
upon the long looked for Buoy at the Nore.

Bradshaw's Piailway Guide had swelled into an encyclopaedia, and
Masters and Bachelors of Arts " Avho had taken distinguished degrees,"
were daily advertising, to perfect ])ersons in the understanding of the
Time Tables, in six easy lessons for one guinea. Omnibus conductors
were undergoing a Polyglott course on the Hamiltonian system, to
enable them to abuse all foreigners in their native tongues; the
" Ati^vses" were being made extra strong, so that they might be able
to bear the whole world on top of them; and the i)roprietors of the
Camberwell and Camden Town 'Busses were eagerly watching for the
time wlien English, French, Prussians and Belgians should join their
Wellingtons and Bluchers on the heights of '•' AVatehloo !"

.Such was the state of the world, the continent, the ])rovinces, and
the )netroi)olis. Nor was the pulse that beat so thnibbingly at licr-
mondsey, Bow, Bayswater, Brixton, Bromptou, Brentford, and jilack-
heath, without a response on the banks of Crummock Water and the
tranquil meadows of Buttermcre.

He, who has passed all his life amid the chaffering of Cheapsidc, or
the ceaseless toil of Bcthnal Green, or the luxurious case of JJclgravia,
— who has seen no mountain higher than Saffron Hill, — has stood
beside no waters j)urer than the Thames — whose eye has rested upon no

ii'2

4 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

spot more green than the enclosure of Leicester Square, — who knows
no people more primitive than the quakcr corn-factors of Mark Lane,
and nothing more truthful than the " impartial inquiries" of the Mom-
ing Chronicle, or more kind-hearted than the writings of TJie Ecoao-
imst, — who has drunk of no i)liilo.sophy deeper than that of the
Penny Cydojicedia, — who has felt no quietude other than that of
the City on a Sunday, — sighed for no home but that which he can
reach for " threepence all the way," and wished for no last resting-
place but a dry vault and a stucco cenota])!! in the theatrical Golgothas
of Kensal and of Highgatcj — such a man can form no image of the
peace, the simplicity, the truth, and the beauty which aggregate into
the perpetual Sabbath that hallows the seclusion about and around
the Lake of Buttermere.

Here the knock of the dun never startles the hermit or the student
— for (thrice blessed spot!) there are no knockers. Here are no
bills, to make one dread the coming of the spring, or the summer,
or the Christmas, or whatever other " festive" season they may fall due
upon, for (oh earthly paradise I) there are no tradesmen, and — better
still — no discounters, and — greater boon than all — no ! not one attor-
ney within nine statute miles of mountain, fell, and morass, to rufHe
the serenity of the village inn. Here that sure-revolving tax-gatherer
— as inevitable and cruel as the Fate in a Grecian tragedy — nevercomes,
with long book and short inkhorn, to convince us it is Lady-day — nor
" Paving," nor " Lighting," nor " Water," " Sewers," nor " Poor's," nor
" Parochials," nor " Church," nor " County," nor " Queen's," nor any
other accursed accompaniment of our boasted civilization. Here
are no dinner-parties for the publication of plate ; no soirees for the
exhibition of great acquaintances ; no conversaziones for the display of
your wisdom, with the full right of boring your friends with your pet
theories; nor polkas, nor schottisches, nor Cellarii, for inflaming
young heirs into matrimony. Here there are no newspapers at break-
fast to stir up your early bile with a grievance, or to render the
merchant's morning meal indigestible with the list of bankrupts, or
startle the fund-holder with a sense that all security for property is
at an end. Here there are no easy-chair philosophers, — not particu-
larly illustrious themselves for a delight in hard labour, — to teach us
to " sweep all who will not work into the dust -bin.'" Here, too, there
are no Harmonic Coalholes, or Cyder Cellars, nor Choreographic
Casinos, or Cremorncs, or other such night-colleges for youth, where
ethics are taught from professional chairs occupied by " rapid " publi-
cans, or by superannuated melodists, with songs as old as themselves,
and as dirty as their linea.

No ! According to a statistical investigation recentl}- instituted, to the
great alarm of the inhabitants, there were, at the beginning of the ever-
to-be-remembered year 1851, in the little village situate between the
Lakes of Crummock, and Buttermere, fifteen inhabited houses, one unin-
habited, and one church about the size of a cottage; and within three
miles of these, in any direction, there was no other habitation what-
..soever This little cluster of houses constituted the village called

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 5

Buttemiere, and consisted of four farm-houses, seven cottages, two
Squires' residences, and two Inns.

Tlie census of the nine families who resided in the fifteen houses
of Buttermere — for many of these same families were the sous and
nephews of the elders — was both curious and interesting. There
were the Flemings, the Nelsons, the Cowmans, the Clarks, the Riggs,
the Laucasters, the Branthwaites, the Lightfoots — and The Jopson,
the warm-hearted Bachelor Squire of the place. The remaining Squire
— also, be it said, a Bachelor — had left, when but a stripling, the cool
shades of the peaceful vale for the wars of India. His name was but
as a shadow on the memory of the inhabitants ; once he had returned
with — so the story ran — '■ an Arabian horse;" but, "his wanderings
not being over," as his old housekeeper worded it, with a grave shake
of her deep-frilled cap, he had gone back '• t' hot country with Sir
Heniy Hardinge to fight t' Sikhs," promising to return again and end
his days beside his native Lake of Buttermere.

Of the families above cited, two were related by marriage. The
Clarks had wedded with the Biggs, and the Cowmans with the Light-
foot.s, so that, in reality, the nine were but seven; and, strange to
say, only one of these — the Clarks — were native to the place. It
was curious to trace the causes that had brought the other settlers to
so sequestered a spot. The greatest distance, however, that any of
the immigrants had come from was thirty miles, and some had travelled
but three; and yet, after five-and-twenty years' residence, were spoken
of by the aboriginal natives as " foreigners."

Only one family — Buttermere born — had been known to emigrate,
and they had been led off, like the formers who had immigrated, by
the lure of more fertile or more profitable tenancies. Tln-ee, however,
had become extinct; but two in name only, having been absorbed by
marriage of their heiresses, while the other one — the most celebrated
of all — was utterly lost, except in tradition, to the place. This was
the family of Mary Kobinson, the innkeeper's daughter, and the
renowned Beauty of Buttermere, known as the lovely, simple-hearted
peasant girl, trapped by the dashing forger into marriage, widowed by
the hangman, amidst a nation's tears, and yet — must we write it—
not dying broken hearted, — but — alas, for the romance and constancy
of the sex ! — remarried ere long to a comfortable farmer, and ending
her days, the stout, well-to-do mother of seven bouncing boys and
girls.

Mr. Thornton, the eminent 2>opulationist, has convinced every
thinking mind, that, in order that the increase of the jteople may
be duly regulated, every husband and wife thrtnighuut tlic country
should have only one child ami a qaartar. In IJuttcrmere, alas! (we
almost weep as we announce the much-tu-be-regretted fact) there arc
.seventeen parents and twenty-nine children, wliich is at the frightful
rate of one child and tkrci-qaarttra mtd a J'rdcltua, to each husband
and wife !

Within the last ten years, too, Buttfrnn;re has seen, unappallod,
three marria''es and nine births. The marria'^cs were all wiUi niaidsi

6 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

of the inn, where the memory of Mary Eobinsou still sheds a tra-
ditionary grace over each new chambermaid, and village swains,
bewitched by the association, come annually to provide themselves
with " Beauties."

The deaths of Bvittermere tell each their peculiar story. Of the
seven who have passed away since the year 1840, one was an old man
who had seen the snow for eighty winters lie upon JEled Pike ; another
was little Mary Clarke, who for eight years only had frolicked in the
sunshine of the happy valley. Two Avere brothers, working at the
slate-quarries high up on Honister Craig : one had ftvllen from a ladder
down the precipice side — the other, a tall and stalwart man, had, in
the presence of his two boys, been carried up bodily into the air by a
whirlwind, and dashed to death on the craigs below. Of the rest, one
died of typhus fever, and another, stricken with the same disease, was
brought, at his special request, from a distance of twenty-one miles,
to end his days in his mountain-home. The last, a young girl of
twenty, perished by her own hand — the romance of village life !
Mary Lightfoot, wooed by her young master, the farmer's son, of
Gatesgarth, sat till morning awaiting his return from Keswick, whither
be had gone to court another. Through the long, lone night, the
misgivings of her heart had grown by daylight into certainty. The
false youth came back with other kisses on his lip, and angry words
for her. Life lost its charm for Mary, and she could see no peace
but in the grave.*

Nor are the other social facts of Buttei'mere less interesting.

According to a return obtained by two gentlemen, who represented
themselves as members of the London Statistical Society, and who,
after a week's enthusiasm and hearty feeding at the Fish Inn, sud-
denly disappeared, leaving behind them the Occupation Abstract of
the inhabitants and a geological hammer, — according to these gentle-
men, Ave repeat, the seventy-two Buttermerians may be distributed as
follows : two innkeepers, four farmers, (including one statesman and
one sinecure constable,) nine labourers (one of them a miner, one a
quarrier, and one the parish-clerk), twelve farm-servants, seventeen

* The custom of night courtship is peculiar to the county of Cumheiland and some
of the districts of Soutli Wales. The following note, exjjlanatorj- of the circumstance,
is taken from the last edition of " The Cumberland Ballads of Robert Anderson," a
work to be found, well thumbed, in the pocket of every Cumbrian peasant-girl and
mountain shepherd: — " A Cumbrian peasant pays his addresses to his sweetheart
during the silence and solemnity of midnight. Anticipating her kindness, he will
travel ten or twelve miles, over hills, bogs, moors, and morasses, undiscouraged by
the length of the road, the darkness of tlie night, or the intemperance of the weather;
on reaching her habitation, he gives a gentle tap at the window of her chamber, at
■which signal she immediately rises, dresses herself, and proceeds with all possible
silence to the door, which she gently opens, lest a creaking hinge, or a barking dog
should awaken the family. On his entrance into the kitchen, the luxuries of a Cam-
brian cottage — cream and sugared curds — are placed before him ; next the courtship
commences, previously to which, the tire is darkened and extinguished, lest its light
should guide to the window some idle or licentious eye; in this dark and uncomfort-
able situation (at least uncomfortable to all but lovers), they remain till the advance
of day, depositing in each other's bosoms the secrets of love, and making vows of
unalterable aflFection."

MK. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS, 7

sons, nine daughters, fourteen wives, three widows, one 'squire, and
one pauper of eighty-six years of age.

" But," says the Pudding-Lane reader, " if this be the entire com-
munity, liow do the people live? where are the shops? where that
glorious interchange of commodities, without which society cannot
exist ? Where do they get their bread — their meat — their tea — their
sugar — their clothing — their shoes? If ill, what becomes of them?
Their children, where are they taught? Their money, where is it
deposited? Their letters? — for surely they cannot be cut off from all
civilization by the utter absence of post-office and postman! Are
they beyond the realms of justice, that no attorney is numbered
amongst their population ? They have a constable — where, then,
the magistrate ? They have a parish-clerk — then where the clergy-
man ?"

Alas! reader, the picturesque is seldom associated with the con-
veniencies or luxuries of life. AVash the peasant-girl's foce and bando-
line her hair, she proves but a bad vignette for that most unpicturescjue
of books — the Book of Beauty. Whitewash the ruins, and make them
comfortable ; what artist would waste his pencils upon them 1 Ho is
it with Buttermere : there the traveller will find no butcher, no baker,
no grocer, no draper, no bookseller, no pawnbroker, no street-musi-
cians, no confectioners, and no criminals. Burst your pantaloons —
oh, mountain tourist ! — and it is five miles to the neai'cst tailor.
Wear the sole of your shoe to the bone on the sharp craigs of Bobinson
or of the Goat-gills, and you must walk to Lowes Water for a shoe-
maker. Be mad with the toothache, caught from coutiuucd exposure
to the mountain breeze, and, go which way you will — to Keswick
or to Cockermouth — it is ten miles to the nearest chemist. Be
seized with the pangs of death, and you must send twenty miles,
there and back, for Dr. Johnson to ease your last moments. To
apprise your friends by letter of your danger, a messenger must go
six miles before the letter cau be posted. If you desire to do your
duty to those you may leave behind, you must send three leagues to
Messrs. Brag and Steal to make your will, and they must travel the
same distance before either can perform the office for you. You wish
to avail yourself of the last consolations of the Church ; the clergy-
man, who oscillates in his duties between Withorp and Buttermere, (an
interval of twelve miles,) has, perhaps, just been sent for to visit the
opposite jjarish, and is now going, at a hard gallop, in the contrary
direction, to another ])arishioner. Die! and you nvust 1)0 taken live
miles in a cart to be buried ; for though Buttermere boasts a church,
it stands upon a rock, from which no sexton has yet been found
hardy enough to (juarry out a grave !

But those are the mere dull, dry matters of fact of liuttermcro —
the prose of its poetry. The cipliers tell us nothing of the men or
their mountains. Wc might as well be walking in the Valley of Dry
liones, with Macullocli, Porter, Macgregor, or the J']ditor of the
UcMtMuist, for our guides. Such teachers strip all life of its emotions,
and dress the earth in one quuker s suit of drab. All tiiey know ol

8 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

beauty is, that it does not beloni^ to tlie utilities of life — feeling with
them is merely the source of prejudice — and every thing that refines
or dignifies humanity, is by such men regarded as sentimentalism or
rodomontade.

And yet, the man who could visit Buttcrmere Avithout a sense of
the sublimity and the beauty which encompass him on every side,
must be indeed dead to the higher enjoyments of life. Here, the
mountains heave like the billows of tlie land, telling of the storm that
swept across the earth before man was on it. Here, deep in their
huge bowl of hills, lie the grey-green waters of Crunnnock and of
Buttermere, tinted with the hues of the sloping fells around them,
as if the mountain dyes had trickled into their streams. Look which
way you will, the view is blocked in by giant cliffs. Far at the end
stands a mighty mound of rocks, umber with the shadows of the
masses of cloud that seem to rest upon its jagged tops, while the
haze of the distance hangs about it like a bloom. On the one side
and in front of this rise the peaks of High Craig, High Stile, and Red
Pike, far up into the air, breaking the clouds as they pass, and the
white mists circling and wreathing round their warted tops, save
where the blue sky peeps brightly between them and the sun behind
streams between the peaks, gilding every craig. The rays go slanting-
down towards the lake, leaving the steep mountain sides bathed in a
rich dark shadow — while the waters below, here dance in the light,
sparkling and shimmering, like scales of a fish, and there, swept by
the sudden gust, the spray of their tiny Avaves is borne along the
surface in a powdery shower. Here the steep sloping sides are
yellow-green with the stinted verdure, spotted red, like rust, with the
withered fern, or tufted over with the dark green furze. High up,
the bare, ash-grey rocks thrust themselves through the sides, like
the bones of the meagre Earth. The brown slopes of the more
bari'en craigs are scored and gashed across with black furrows, show-
ing the course of dried-up torrents; while in another place, the
mountain stream comes leaping down from craig to craig, whitening
the hill-side as with wreaths of snow, and telling of the " tarn " which
lies silent and dark above it, deep buried in the bosom of the moun-
tain. Beside this, climbs a Wood, feathering the mountain sides, and
yet so lost in the immensity that every tree seems but a blade of fern.
Then, as you turn round to gaze upon the hills behind you, and bend
your head far back to catch the Moss's highest craigs, you see blocks
and blocks of stone tumbled one over the other, in a disorder that
fills and confounds the mind, with trees jutting from their fissures,
and twisting their bare roots under the huge stones, like cords to
lash them to their places; while the mountain sheep, red with ruddle,
stands perched on some overhanging craig, nipping the scanty herb-
age. And here, as you look over the tops of Hassness Wood, you
see the blue smoke of the unseen cottage curling lightly up into the
air, and blending itself with the bloom of the distant mountains.
Then, as you journey on, you hear the mountain streams, now trick-
ling softly down the sides, now hoarsely rushing down a rocky bed,

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 9

and now, in gentle and harmonious hum, vying with the breeze as it
comes sighing down the valley.

Central between the Waters, and nestling in its mountains, lies the
little village of Butterniere, like a babe in its mother's lap. Scarce
half-a-dozen houses, huddled together like sheep for mutual shelter
from the storm, make up the humble mountain home. On each side,
in strangling order, perched up in the hill-side nooks, the other dwell-
ings group themselves about it. In the centre stands the unpretend-
ing village inu. Behind it stretch the rich, smooth, and velvety
meadows, spotted with red cattle, and looking doubly green and soft
and level, from the rugged, brown, and barren mountains, that rise
abrupt upon them. To stand in these fields, separating as they do
the twin waters, is, as it were, to plant the foot upon the solid lake,
and seem to float upon sonae verdant raft. High on the rock, front-
ing the humble inn, stands sideways the little church, smaller than
the smallest cottage, with its two bells in tiny belfry crowning its
gable end, and backed by the distant mountain that shows through
the opening pass made by the hill on whose foot it rests. Round
and about it circles the road, in its descent towards the homesteads
that are grey with the stone, and their roofs green with the slate of
their native hills, harmonious in every tint and shade with all around
them. Beside the bridge spanning the angry brook which hurries
brawling round the blocks of stone that intercept its course, stands
the other and still more humble inn, half clad in ivy, and hiding the
black arch through which the mountain " beck," white with foam
comes dashing round the turn.

In the village road, for street there is none, not a creature is to be
seen, save where a few brown or mottled "short-horns" straggle up
from the meadows, — now stopping to stare vacantly about them, now
capering puqjoseless with uplifted tails, or butting frolicsome at each
other; then marching to the brook, and standing knee-deep in the
scurrying waters, with their brown heads bent down to drink, and
the rapid current curling white around their legs, while others go
leaping through the stream, splashing the waters in transparent sheets
about them. Not a fowl is to be seen scratching at the soil, nor duck
waddling p(jmpously toward the stream. Not even a stray dog crosses
the roadway, unless it be on the Sunday, and then every peasant or
farmer wlio ascends the road has his sharp-nosed, shaggy sheep-dog
following at his heels, and vying with his master in the enjoyment
of their mutual holiday. Here, too, ofttimes may be seen some aged
dame, with huge white cap, and bright red kerchief ]iinncd across
her bosom, st(Jor)ing to dip her pail into the brook ; while over the
bridge, just showing above the coping-stone, appears the grey-
coated farmer, with drab hat, and mounted on his shaggy brown
pony, on his way to the neighbouring market. Jlcre, too, the
visitor may, sometimes, see the farmers' wives grouped outside one
of the liomestead gates — watching their little lasses set forth on
their five-mile pilgrimage to scliool, their baskets filled with their
week's provisions lianging on their arms, and tlic iioods of their

10 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

blue- grey cloaks dancing as they skip playfully along, tliouglitless of
the six days' absence, or mountain road before them. At other times,
some good-wife, or ruddy servant girl, sallies briskly from the neigh-
bouring farm, and dodges across the road the truant pig that has
dashed boldly from the midden. Anon, climbing the mountain side,
saunters some low-built empty cart, Avith white horse, and grey-coated
carter, now, as it Avinds uj) the road, hidden by the church, now disap-
pearing in the circling of the path behind the slope, then seen high
above the little belfry, and hanging, as it were, by the hill side, as the
carter pauses to talk with the pedlar, Avho, half buried in his jiack,
descends the mountain on his way to the village. Then, again
ascending, goes the cart, higher and higher, till it reach the highest
platform, to vanish behind the mountain altogether from the sight.

Such, reader, is a faint pen-and-ink sketch of a few of the charms
and rural graces of Buttermere. Tliat many come to see, and but
few to aj)preciate them, the visitors' book of the principal inn may be
cited as uncjuestionable evidence. Such a book in such a scene one
would expect to find filled Avith sentiments approximating to refine-
ment, at least, if not to poetry ; but the mountains here seem more
strongly to aftect the appetite of Southerners than their imaginations,
as Avitness the under- Avritten, Avhich are cited in all their bare and
gross literality.

" Messrs. Bolton, Campbell and Co., of Prince's Park, Liverpool, visited this inn,
and were pleased with the lamb-chops, but found the boats dear. June 28, 1850."
" Thomas Buckbam, sen., Ludley Park;
George Poixs, sen., Lndley Bridge ;
Came to Buttermere on the 2Gth, 12mo., 18")(); that day had a glorious walk over the
mountains from Kesxvick ; part of the way by Lake Derwent by boat. Stayed at
Buttermere all night. Splendid eating! ! !

"26, 12mo., 1850."
" Rev. Joshua Russell and Sox,

Blackheath.
The whiskey is particularly fine at this house, and we made an excellent dinner."
« Oct. 7th, 50.

Philipps Kelham, jMauchester;
.ToHX F. Philipps;
Miss Margabetta Philipps.
The Fish a most comfortable inn. A capital dinner. Good whiskey. The onlt

GOOD GLASS WE HAVE MET WITH IN THE WHOLE LaKE DISTRICT."

'• Mb. Edward King, Dalston, London, and 7, Fenchurch-street, London: walked
from Wliitehaven to Euuerdale Lake, calling at the Boat House on the margin of the
Lake, where, having invigorated the inward man, I took the mountain path between
Floutern Tarn and Grosdale, passed Scale Force, and arrived in the high mountain
which overlooks Crummoch and Buttermere : here, indeed, each mountain scene is
magniliceutly rude. I entered the beautiful vale of ButteiTuere ; was fortunate
enough to find the Fish Inn, where all were extremely civil; and from the landlady I
received politeness and very excellent accommodation. Had a glorious feed for
Is. Orf. I 1 Chop, with sharp sauce, (irf. ; potatoes, Ifl. ; cheese, If/.; bread, If/.; beer,
bd. ; waitress (a charming, modest, and obliging young creature, who put me in mind
of the storv of the Maid of Buttermere, and learnt nie the names of all the mountains).
Id.; total," !.<;. 3d Thursday, April 18, 1850." *

* The reader is requested to remember that these are not given as matters of
invention, but as literal extracts, with real names and dates, copied from the books
kept by Mrs. Clark, the excellent hostess of the Fish Inn, Buttermere.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 11

CHAPTER II.

" There's been noe luck throughout the Ian'
Sin' fwok mud leyke their betters sheyne ;
The country's puzzeu'd roun' wi' preyde ;
We're c'aff and sau' to auld lang seyne."

North Country Ballad.

Haed upon a mile from the -s-illage before described lived the hero,
the heroine, and herolets of the present story, by names Mr. and
Mrs. Sandboys, their son, Jobby, and their daughter, Elcy. Their
home was one of the two squires' houses before spoken of as lying
at the extremes of the village. Mr. Christopher, or, as after the
old Cumberland fashion he was called, " Cursty," Sandboys, was native
to the place, and since his college days at St. Bees, had never been
further than Keswick or Cockermouth, the two great emporia and
larders of Buttermere. He had not missed Keswick Cheese Fair for
forty Martinmasses, and had been a regular attendant at Lanthwaite
Green, every September, with his lean sheep for grazing. Nor did the
Monday morning's market at Cockermouth ever open Avithout Mr.
Christoi^her Sandboys, but on one day, and that was when the two
bells of Lorton Church tried to tinkle a marriage peal in honour
of his wedding with the heiress of Newlands. A " statesman" by
birth, he possessed some hundred acres of land, with " pasturing" on
the fell side for his sheep ; in which he took such pride that the walls
of his " keeping-room," or, as vje should call it, sitting-room, were
covered on one side with printed bills telling how his " lamb-sucked
ewes," his " Herdwickes" and his "shearling tups" and "gimmers"
had carried off the first and second best prizes at Wastdale and at
Deanscale shows. Indeed, it was his continual boast that he grew
the coat he had on his back, and he delighted not only to clothe
himself, but his son Jobby (much to the annoyance of the youth,
who sighed for the gentler graces of kerseymere) in the undyed, or
"self-coloured," wool of his sheep, known to all the country round
as the "Sandboys' Grey" — in reality a peculiar tint of speckled
brown. His winter mornings were passed in making nets, and in
the summer his winter-woven nets were used to despoil the waters of
Buttermere of their trout and char. He knew little of the world
but tiir(jugh the newspapers that reached him, half-priced, stained
with tea, Imtter, and eggs, from a coflec-shoj) in Lon<lon — and nothing
of society but through that ideal distortion given us in novels,
which makes the whole h\iman family appear as a sTuall colony of
penniless angels and wcidthy demons. His long evenings were, how-
ever, generally devoted to the perusal of his newspaiter, and, living in a
district to which crime was uidtnown, he became gracUially iiupressed
by reading the long catalogues of robberies and nmrders that filled
his London weekly and daily sheets, that all out of Cinnberland waH
in a state of savage barbarism, and that the Metropolis was ii very

12 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

caldron of wickedness, of which the grosser scum was continually
being taken off, through the medium of the police, to the colofiies.
In a word, the bugbear that haunted the innocent mind of poor
Mr. Cursty Sandboys was the wickedness of all the world but Butter-
mere.

And yet to have looked at the man, one woidd never su2:»pose
that Sandboys could be nervous about anything. Taller than even
the tallest of the villagers, among whom he had been bred and born,
he looked a grand si)ecimen of the human race in a country where it
is by no means uncommon to see a labouring man with form and
features as dignified, and }nanners as grave and self-possessed, as the
highest bred nobleman in the land. His complexion still bore traces
of the dark Celtic mountain tribe to which he belonged, but age had
silvered his hair, which, Avith his white eyebrows and whiskers,
contrasted strongly and almost beautifully with a small " cwoal- black
een." So commanding, indeed, was his whole appearance, though
in his suit of homespun grey, that, on first acquaintance, the
exceeding simplicity of his nature came upon those who were strangers
to the man and the place with a pleasant surprise.

Suspicious as he was theoreticall}', and convinced of the utter evil
of the ways of the world without Buttermere, still, practically, Cursty
Sandboys was the easy dupe of many a tramp and Turnpike Sailor,
that with long tales of intricate and accumulative distress, supported
by apocryphal briefs and petitions, signed and attested by " phantasm "
mayors and magistrates, sought out the fastnesses of Buttermere, to prey
upon the innocence and hospitality of its peoi^le.'"'

It was Mr. Sandboys' special delight, of an evening, to read the
newspaper aloud to his family, and endeavour to impress his vnie and
children with the same sense of the rascality of the outer world as
reigned within his own bosom. But his denunciations, as is too often
the case, served chiefly to draw attention and to excite curiosity

* To prove to the reader bow systematic and professional is the vagrancy and
trading heggary of this county, a gentleman, living iu the nsighhourhood of Butter-
mere, and to whom we are indebted for many other favours, has obliged us with the
subjoined registry and aualvsis of the vagabonds who sought relief at his house, from
April ], 1848, to Maixh :})', 184!):—

Males, (^strangers) 80

Males, (previously relieved) 73

Females, (strangers) 10

Females, (previously relieved) 41

Total 204

This is at the rate of two beggars a- week, for the colder six months of the year,
and six a-week in the warm weather, visiting as remote, secluded, and humble a
village as any in the kingdom. It is curious to note iu the above the great number
of females " previously relieved" compared with the " strangers," as showing that
when women take to vagrancy tliey seldom abandon the trade. It were to be
desired that gentlemen would perform similar services to tlie above in their several
parts of the kingdom, so that, by a large collection of facts, the public might be at
last convinced how pernicious to a community is promiscuous charity. Of all lessons
there is none so dangerous as to teach people that they can live by other means
than labour.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 13

touching subjects, wliicli, without them, would probably have remained
unheard of; so that his family, unknown to each other, were secretly
sighing for that propitious turn of destiny which should impel them
where fashion and amusement never failed, as their father said, to lure
their victim from more serious pursuits.

The mind of ^Irs. Sandboys was almost as circumscribed as that of
the good Cursty himself. If Sandboys loved his country, and its
mountains, she was lost in her kitchen, her beds, and her buckbasket.
His soul was hemmed iu by " the Hay-Stacks," Red Pike, Melbrake,
and Grassmoor, and hers, by the four walls of Hassness-house. She
prided herself on her puddings, and did not hesitate to take her stand
upon her pie- crust. She had often been heard to say, with extreme
satisfaction, that her " Buttered sops" were the admiration of the
country round — and it was her boast that she could turn the lai-ge thin
oat-cake at a toss ; while the only feud she had ever been known to have
in all her life, was with Mrs. Gill, of Low-Houses, Newlands, who
declared that in her opinion the cakes were better made with two
" backbwords" than one ; and though several attempts had been made
towards reconciliation, she liad ever since withstood all advances toward.s
a renewal of the ancient friendship that had cemented the two families.
It was her glory that certain receipts had been in her family — the heir-
looms of the eldest daughter — for many generations; and, when roused
on the subject, she had been heard to exclaim, that she would not part
with her wild raspberry jelly but with her life; and, come what may,
she had made up her mind, to carry her " sugared curds" down with
her to her grave.

The peculiar feature of Mrs. Sandboys' mind was to magnify
the mildest trifles into violent catastrophes. If a China shepherdess,
or porcelain Prince Albert, were broken, she took it almost as much
to heart as if a baby had been killed. Washing, to her, was almost a
sacred ceremony, the day being invariably accompanied with fasts.
Her beds were white as the opposite waters of " Sour-Milk Gill;" and
the brightness of the brass liol)S in the kecj)ing-room at Hassness were
brilliant tablets to record her domestic virtues. She was perpetually
waging war with cobwebs, and, though naturally of a strong turn of
mind, the only time she had been known to faint was, when the only
flea ever seen in Hassness House made its appearance full in the
front of Cursty Sandboys' shirt, at his dinner, for the celebration of a
Sheep-Shearing Prize. If her husband dreaded visiting London on
account of its iniquities, she was deterred by the Cumberland legend
of its bug.s — for, to her rural mind, the jieopleof the Great i\Ictropolis
seemed to be as much preyed upon by these vermin, as the natives ol
India by the wliite ants — and it was a conviction Hrndy im])lantcd in
lier bosom, that if she once trusted lierself in a London four-post, there
would be nothing left of her in the morning but licr nightea]).

The son and daugiitcr of this hopeful j)air were mere common-place
creatures. The boy, .lobby, as Joseph is familiarly called iu Cumber-
land, had just shot uj) into hobblcdyhoyhood, aiul was long and liiin,
iis if Nature had drawn him, like a telescope, out of his boots. Though

14 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

almost a man in stature, he was still a boy in tastes, and full of life
and activity — ever, to his mother's horror, tearing his clothes in
climbing the craigs for starlings and magpies, or ransacking the
hedges for " spinks" and " skopps ;" or else he terrified her by remaining
out on the lake long past dusk, in a boat, or delighting to go up
into the fells after the sheep, when overblown by the winter's snow.
His mother declared, after the ancient maternal fashion, that it was
impossible to keep that boy clean and however he wore out his clothes
and shoes was more than she could tell. The pockets of the youth
— of which she occasionally insisted on seeing the contents — will best
show his character to the discerning reader; these usually proved to com-
prise gentles, oat-cake, a leather sucker, percussion caps, a short pipe,
(for, truth to say, the youth was studying this great art of modern
manhood), a few remaining bleaberries, a Jew's-harp, a lump of
cobbler's wax, a small coil of shining gut, with fish-hooks at the end,
a charge or two of shot, the Cumberland Songster, a many-bladed
knife with cork-screw, horsepicker, and saw at the back, together
with a small mass of paste, swarming with thin red worms, tied up in
one of his sister's best cambric pocket-handkerchiefs.

Elcy, or Alice Sandboys, the sister of the last-named young gentle-
man, was some two or three years his elder; and, taking after
her mother, had rather more of the Saxon complexion than her
father or brother. At that age when the affections seek for some-
thing to rest themselves upon, and located where society afforded no
fitting object for her sympathies, her girlish bosom found relief in
expending its tenderness on pet doves, and squirrels, and mag]>ies,
and such gentler creatures as were denizens of her father's woods.
These, and all other animals, she spoke of in diminutive endearment;
no matter what the size, all animals Avere little to her ; for, in her
own language, her domestic menagerie consisted of her dovey, her
doggey, her dickey, her ]iussey, her scuggy, her piggey, and her cowey.
In her extreme love for the animal creation, she would have taken
the young trout from its play and liberty in the broad lake beside
her, and kept it for ever circling round the crystal treadmill of a
glass globe. But the course of her true love ran anything but
smooth. Jobby was continually slitting the tongue of her magpie
■with a silver sixpence, to increase its powers of language, or angling
for her gold fish with an elaborate apparatus of hooks, or carrying
off her favourite spaniel to have his ears and tail cut in the last new
fashion, at the farrier's, or setting her cat on a board down the lake,
or performing a hundred other such freaks as thoughtless youth alone
can think of, to the annoyance of susceptible maidens. Herself
unaware of the pleasures of which she deprived the animals she caged
and globed, and on which her sole anxiety was to heap every kindne ;,
she was continually remonstrating with her brother (we regret to say
with little effect) as to the wickedness of fishing, or, indeed, of putting
anything to pain.

Such was the character of the family located at Hassness House,
— the only residence that animated the solitary banks of Buttermere —

ME. AND MKS. CUllSTY SANDBOYS. 15

and such, doubtless, would the Sandboys have ever remained but for
the advent of the year 1851. The news of the opening of the
Great Exhibition had already penetrated the fastnesses of Buttermere,
and the villagers, who perhaps, but for the notion that the Avhole
world was about to treat itself to a trip to the metropolis, would have
remained quiet in their mountain homes, had been, for months past,
subscribing their pennies with the intention of having tlieir share in the
general holiday. Buttermere was one universal scene of excitement
from Woodhouse to Gatesgarth. Mrs. Nelson was making a double
allowance of her excellent oat-cakes ; ]\Irs. Clark, of the Fish Inn, was
packing up a jar of sugared butter, among other creature comforts for
the occasion. John Cowman was brushing up his top shirt; Dan
Fleming was greasing his calkered boots ; John Lancaster was wonder-
ing whether his hat were good enough for the great show; all the old
dames were busy ironing their deep frilled caps, and airing their hoods ;
all the young lasses were stitching at all their dresses, while some of
the more nervous villagers, Avho had never yet trusted themselves to
a railway, were secretly making their wills — ^preparatory to their grand
starting for the metropolis.

Amidst this general bustle and excitement there was, however, one
house where the master was not absorbed in a calculation as to the
probable length and expenses of the journey; where the mistress was
not busy preparing for the comfort of the outward and inward man
of her lord and master ; where the daughter was not in deep consulta-
tion as to the prevailing metropolitan fashions — and this house wa.s
Hassness. For Mr. Sandboys, with his long-cherished conviction of the
wickedness of London, had expressed in unmeasured terms his positive
determination that neither he himself, nor any that belonged to him,
should ever be exposed to the moral pollution of the metroi)olis. This
was a sentiment in which Mrs. Sandboys heartily concurred, though on
very different grounds — the one objecting to the moral, the other to the
physical, contamination of the crowded city. Mr. Sandboys had been
thrice solicited to join the Buttermere Travelling Club, and thrice he
had held out against the most persuasive appeals. But Squire
Jopson, who acted as Treasurer to the Travelling Association for the
Great Exhibition of 1851, not liking that his old friend Sandboys
should be the only one in all Buttermere who absented himself from
the general visit to the metropolis, waited upon him at Hassness
to offer him the last chance of availing himself of the advantages of
tliat valuable institution as a meaas of conveying himself and family,
at the smallest possible expense, to the great metropolis, and of
allowing him and them a week's stay, as well as the ])riviK'ge of
participating in all the amusements and gaieties of the ca])ital at its
y^est possible time.

it was a severe trial for Sandboys to Avithstand the united batteries
of Jopson's cnthusia.stic advocacy, his daughter's entreaties, his son's
assurances of steadiness. But Sandboys, though naturally jjossessed of
a heart of butter, delighted to assure himself that he carried alumt a
flint in his bosom ; so he told Jopson, with a shake of his head, tliat

16 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

he might as well tiy to move Helvellyn or shake Skiddaw ; and that,
while he blushed for the Aveakiiess of his family, he thanked Heaven
that he, at least, was adamant.

Jopson showed him by the list he brought with him that the whole
of the villagers were going, and that Hassness Avould be left
neighbourless for a circuit of seven miles at least; whereupon
Sandboys observed, with a chuckle, that the place could not be much
more quiet than it was, and that with those fine fellows, Robinson
and Davy Top, and Dod and Honister around him, he should never
want company.

Jopson talked sagely of youths seeing the world and expanding
their minds by travel; whereat the eyes of the younger Sandboys
glistened; but the father rejoined, that travel was of use only for
the natural beauties of the scenery it revealed, and the virtues of
the people with whom it brought the traveller into association;
„ and where," he asked, with o'ident pride of county, " could more
natural beauty or greater native virtue be found, than amongst
the mountains and the pastoral race of Buttermerel" Seizing the
latest Times that had reached him the evening before, he pointed
triumphantly to some paragraph, headed " Ingenious Fraud on a
Yokel !" wherein a country gentleman had been cleverly duped of
some hundreds of poimds paid to him that morning at Smith-
field; and he asked with sarcasm, whether those wctc the scenes and
those the people that Jopson thought he could improve his son
Jobby by introducing him to?

In vain Jopson pulled from his pocket a counter newspaper,
and showed him the plan of some monster Lodging House which
was to afford accommodation for one thousand persons from the
country, at one and the same time, " for one-and-three per night !"' —
how, for this small sum, each of the thousand was to be pro-
vided " with bedstead, good wool mattrass, sheets, blankets, and
coverlet; with soap, towels, and every accommodation for ablution;"
— how the two thousand boots of the thousand lodgers were to be
cleaned at one penny per pair, and their one thousand chins to be
shaven by relays of barbers continually in attendance — how a sur-
geon was " to attend at nine o'clock every morning," to examine the
lodgers, and "instantly remove all cases of infectious disease" — how
there was to be " a smoking-room, detached from the main building,
where a baud of music was to play every evening, gratis" — how
omnibuses to all the theatres and amusements and sights were to
carry the thousand sight-seers at one penny per head- — how " cold roast
and boiled beef and mutton, and ditto ditto sausages and bacon,
and pickles, salads, and fruit pies (Avhen to be procured,) were to be
furnished, at fixed prices," to the thousand country gentlemen with
the thousand country appetites — how " all the dormitories were to be
well lighted with gas to secure the complete privacy of the occupants"
— how " they were to be vratched over by eflacient wardens and
police constables" — how " an office was to be ojjened for the security
of luggage" — and how "the proprietor pledged himself that every care

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 17

should be taken to ensure the comfort, convenience, and strict disci-
pline of so large a body."

Sandboys, who had sat perfectly quiet while Jobson was detailing
the several advantages of this Brobdignagian boarding-house, burst
out at the completion of the narrative with a demand to be informed
whether it was probable that he, who had passed his whole life in a
village consisting of tifteen houses and but seven families, would, in his
fifty-fifth year, consent to take up his abode Avith a thousand people
under one roof, with a gas-light to secure the privacy of his bed-room,
policemen to watch him all night, and a surgeon to examine him in
the morning!

Having thus delivered himself, he turned round, with satisfaction,
to appeal to his wife and children, when he found them, to his horror,
with the newspaper in their hands, busily admiring the picture of the
very building that he had so forcibly denounced.

Early the next morning, Mrs. Sandboys, with Jol>by and Elcy, went
down to the Fish Inn, to see the dozen carts and cars leave, Avith the
united villagers of Buttermere, for the " Travellers' Train " at Cocker-
mouth. There was the stalwart Daniel Fleming, of the White Howe,
mounted on his horse, with his wife, her baby in her arms, and the
children, with the farm maid, in the cart, — his two men trudging by
its side. There Avas -John Clark, of Wilkinsyke, the farmer and states-
man, Avith his black-haired sous, Isaac and .Johnny, Avhile llichard rode
the piebald pony ; and Joseph and his Avife, with little Grace, and their
rosy-cheeked maid, Susannah, from the Fish Inn, sat in the car, kept at
other times for the accommodation of their visitors. After them
came Isaac Cowman, of the Croft, the red-faced farmer-constable, Avith
his fine tall, fiaxen, Saxon family about him; and, folloAving in his
wake, his Roman-nosed ucpheAV John, the host of " The A^ictoria, '
with his brisk, bustling Avife on his arm. Then came handsome old
John Lancaster, seventy years of age, and as straight as the mountain
larch, with his Avife and his sons, AndrcAV and Robert, and their
Avives. And following these, John BrantliAvaite, of BoAvthcrbeck, the
parish-clerk, Avith his wife and Avife's mother; and EdAvard Nelson,
the shee])-breeder, of Gatesgarth, dressed in his Avell-knoAvn suit of
grey, Avith his buxom gude-wife, and her three boys and her tAVo girls
by her side; Avhile the fresh-coloured bonnie lassie, lier maid, lietty
Gatesgarth, of Gatesgarth; in her bright green dress and i>ink ribbons,
strutted along in their wake. Then came the Riggs: James Rigg, tlie
luinor, of Scots Tuft, Avho had come over from his Avork at Cleator ior
the special holiday; and there Avere his Avife and young boys, and Jane
Rigg, the Avidow, and her daugliter Mary Ann, the grey-eyed beauty of
Jjuttcrmere, in her jaunty jacket-Avaistcd dress; Avith lier swarthy
black-whiskered Celtic brother, and his ])l(^asant-faced Saxon Avile
carrying their chubby-cheeked child; and behind them came Ann Rigg,
the slater's AvidoAv, from Craig House, Avith her boys and little girl;
and, h;aning on their shoulders, the cighty-years-old, Avhitc-haired,
Braithwaite Rigg and his venerable dame; and close upon them Avas
Kccn old Rowley Lightfoot, his wife, and son John. Scpnre Jobson's

c

18 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

man walked beside the car from the Fish Imi, talking to the tidy,
clean old housekeeper of Woodhouse; while the Squire himself rode
in the real', proud and happy as he marshalled the merry little band
along ; — for, truth to say, it would have been difficult to find in any
other part of England so much manliness and so much rustic beauty
centred in so small a spot.

As they moved gently along the road, John Cowman, the host of
the Victoria, struck up the follo-\ving well-known song, which was
welcomed with a shout from the whole " lating :" —

" I's Borrowdale Jwohnny, just cumt up to Lunnou,
Nay, gum Jiit at mc, for fear I laugh at you;
I've seen kneaves doun'd i' silks, and giid meu gaug in tatters;
The truth we sud tell, and gi'e auld Nick his due."

Then the gust rushed down the valley, and the voices of the happy
holiday throng Avere swept, for a moment, away ; as it lulled again, the
ear, familiar to the song, could catch the laugh and cheers that accom-
panied the next verse : —

" ' Keep frae t' lasses, and ne'er luik ahint thee.'
' We're deep as the best o' them, fadder,' says I.
They packed up ae sark, Sunday weascwoat, twee neckcloths,
Wot bannock, cauld dumplin', and top stannin' pye ;".

Again the voices were lost in the turning of the road, and presently,
as they shot out once more^ they might be heard singing in full
chorus —

" Ca' and see cousin Jacep, he's got a' the money;
He'll git thee some guver'meut pleace to be seer."

At last, all was still — ^but scarcely more still than when the whole
of the cottages were filled with their little families, for the village,
though now utterly deserted, would have seemed to the stranger to
have been as thickly populated and busy as ever.

CHAPTER III.

" Heaste, Jenny! put the bairns to bed,
And mind they say their prayers.
Sweet innocents ! their heads yence down,

They sleep away their cares !
But gi' them furst a butter-shag;

When young, they munnet want, —
Nor ever sal a bairn o' mine
Wliile I've a bite to grant."

The Happy Family.

The younger Sandboys took the departure of the villagers more to
heart than did their mother; though, true to her woman's nature, had
the trip been anywhere but to London, she would have felt hurt at
not making one of the pleasure- party. On reaching home, she and

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 19

Mr. Sandboys congratulated one another that they -were not on their
way to suffer the miseries of a week's residence amidst either the dirt
or the wickedness of the metropolis ; but Elcy and Jobby began, for
the first time, to feel that the retirement, whieli they heard so much
vaunted every day, and which so many persons came from all parts of
the country to look at and admire, cut them off" from a considerable
share of the pleasures which all the world else seemed so ready to
enjoy, and which they began shrewdly to suspect were not quite so
terrible as their father was in the habit of making out.

Thus matters continued at Hassness till the next Tuesday evening,
when ^Irs. Sandboys remarked that it was " very strange " that
*' Matthew Harker, t' grocer, had not been to village" with his pony and
cart that day ; and " what she sud do for t' tea, and sugar, and soft
bread, she didn't know."

Now, seeing that the nearest grocer was ten miles distant, and that
there was no borrowing this necessary article from any of their neigh-
bours, as the whole village was then safely housed in London, such a
failure in the visit of the peripatetic tea-man, upon whom the inhabi-
tants of Buttermere and Crummock Water one and all depended for
their souchong, and lump, and moist, and wheaten bread, was
a matter of more serious importance than a townsman might
imagine.

It was therefore arranged that Postlethwaite their man should
take Paddy t' pony over to Keswick the next day, to get the week's
supply of grocery, and learn what had happened to Harker, in whom
the Sandboys took a greater interest from the fact of their having
subscribed, with others of the gentry, when Harker lost his hand by
blasting cobbles, to start him in the groceiy business, and provide him
with a horse and cart to carry his goods round the country.

Postlethwaite — a long, grave, saturnine-looking man, who was " a
little'' hard of hearing, was, after much shouting in the kitclien, made
to comprehend the nature of his errand. But he had <(uitted
Hassness only a short hour, when he returned Avith the sad intelli-
gence— which he had picked up from Kllick (Jrackanthorpe, who was
left in charge of Keskadalc, while the family had gone to town, — that
Harker, finding all the folk about Keswick had departed for the Great
Exhibition, and hearing that Buttermere had done the same, had put
his wife and his nine children inside his own van, and was at that
time crawling up by easy stages to London.

Moreover, Postlethwaite brought in the dreary tidings tliat, in
coming down from the top of the Hause, just by Beai-'s fall, Paddy liad
cast a shoe, and that it was as nmeh as he could do to get him down
the Moss side. This calamity was a matter of as nuich delight to th&
youngsters as it was of annoyance to the elder Sandboys; for seeing
that Bob Jieck, the nearest blacksmith, lived six miles distant, and
that it was impossible to send either to Cockcrniouth or Keswick for
the necessaries of life, until the pony was armed against the rockinos.s
of the road, it became a matter of considerable difficulty to Kettle
what cuuld be done.

c2

20 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

After much serious deliberation, it was finally arranged that Postle-
thwaite should lead the pony on to the " sraiddy," at Loweswater,
to be shod, and then ride him over to Dodgson's, the grocer's, at
Cockermouth.

Postlethwaite, already tired, and, it must be confessed, not a little
vexed at the refusal of Mr. Sandboys to permit him to accompany
his fellow-villagers on this London trip — the greatest event of aU
their lives — started very sulky, and came back, long after du^k, with
the pony lamed by a stone in his foot, and himself savage with hunger,
and almost rebellions with fatigue; for, on getting to the "smiddy," he
found that Beck the blacksmith had ruddled on his door the inscrip-
tion—

'' Geane to Lunnon for to see t' Girt 'Shibition !"

and, worse than all to Postlethwaite, he discovered, moreover, on
seeking his usual ale at Kirkstile, that Harry Pearson, the landlord,
had accompanied the Buttermere travellers' train up to town; and
that John Wilkinson, the other landlord, had followed him the day
after; so that there was neither bite nor sup to be had in the place,
and no entertainment either for man or beast.

In pity to Paddy, if not in remembrance of the farmer's good cheer,
Postlethwaite, on his way back, turned down to Joe Watson's, at
Lanthwalte, and there found it impossible to make anybody hear him,
for the farmer and his six noble-looking sons — known for miles round
as the flower of the country — had also joined the sight-seers on their
way to the train at Cockermouth.

This was sad news to the little household. It Avas the first incident
that gave Mrs. Sandboys an insight into the possible difficulties that their
remaining behind, alone, at Hassuess, might entail upon the family.
She, and Mr. Sandboys, had hitherto only thought of the inconveniences
attending a visit to London, and little dreamt that their absence from
it, at such a time, might force them to undergo even greater troubles.
She could pei'haps have cheerfully tolerated the abdication of the
Cockermouth milliner — she might have heard, without a sigh, that Mr.
Bailey had put up the shutters of his circulating library, and stojiped
the supply of " Henrietta Temples," " Emilia Wyndhams," and " The
Two Old Men ;" she might not even have complained had Thompson
Martin, the draper, cut short her ribbons and laces, by shutting up his
shop altogether — but to have taken away her tea and sugar, was
more than a lady in the vale of years, and the valley of Butter-
mere, could be expected to endure, Avlthout some outrage to philosophy!

The partiality of the sex in general for their morning and evening
cup of souchong and " best refined," is now ranked by physiologists
among those Inscrutable instincts of sentient nature, which are beyond
the reach of scientific explanation. What oil is to the Esquimaux,
what the juice of the cocoa-nut is to the monkey, what water is to the
fish, what dew is to the flower, and what milk is to the cat — so is tea to
woman ! No person yet, in our own country, has propounded any suffi-
cient theory to account for the English washerwomen's all-absorbing

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 21

love of the Cliinese infusion — nor for the fact of every maid-servant,
when stipulating the terms of her engagement, always making it an
express condition of the hiring, that she should be provided with " tea
and sugar," and of every mistress continually declaring that she
"would rather at any time go without her dinner than her tea."

What sage has yet taught us why womankind is as gregarious over
tea as mankind over wine? Sheridan has called the Bottle the sun
of the table ; but surely the Teapot, with its attendant cups, may be
considered as a heavenly system, towards which all the more beautiful
bodies concentre, where the piano may be said to represent the music
of the spheres, and in which the gentlemen, heated with wine, and
darting in eccentric course from the dining-room, may be regarded as
fiery comets. We would ask any lady whether Paradise could have been
a garden of bliss without the tea-plant ; and whether the ever-to-be-
regi'etted error of our first mother was not the more unpardonable from
the fact of her having preferred to pilfer an apple rather than pluck the
" fullest flavoured Pekoe." And may not psychology here trace some
faint transcendental reason for the descendants of Adam still loving
to linger over their apples after dinner, shunning the tea-table and
those connected with it. Yet, perhaps, even the eating of apples has
not been more dangerous to the human family than the sipping of tea.
If sin came in with pippins, surely scandal was brought into the world
with Bohea ! Adam fell a victim to his wife's longing for a Ribston,
and how many Eves have since fallen martyrs to the sex's love of the
slanderous Souchong.

Mrs. Sandboys Avas not prepared for so great a sacrifice as her tea,
and when she first heard from Postlethwaite the certainty of Marker's
departure, and saw, by the result of this second journey, that there
was no hope of obtaining a supply from Cockermouth, there ivas a
moment when she allowed her bosom to whisper to her, that even
the terror of a bed in London would be preferable to a tea-less life
at Hassness.

Mr. Sandboys, however, no sooner saw that there was no tea or
sugar to be had, than he determined to sweeten his cup with philo-
sophy ; so, bursting out with a snatch of the " Cumberland Lang
Seyne," he exclaimed, as cheerily as he could under the circum-
stances—

" Deuce tck the fiiil-invented tea;
For tweyce a day we tliiit muu' Lev ;

and immediately after this, decided upon the whole family's reverting
to the habits of their ancestors, and drinking "yale" for brcakfiist.
This was by no means jdeasant, but as it was clear she could do
nothing else, Mrs. Sandboys, like a sensible woman, turned her
attention to the contents of the alc-eask, and then discovered that
some evil-disposed person, wliom she strongly suspected to be IMaster
•lobby — for that young gentleman began to display an increasing
enjoyment in each succeeding catastrophe — had left the tii]) running,
and "that the cellar floor was covered three inches deep with the iiipiid

32 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

intended to take off the dryness and somewhat sawdusty chai'acter of
the oat-cake, which, in the absence of any wheaten bread, now formed
the stajjle of their morning meal.

Now it so happened, that it wanted a fortnight of the return of
Jennings' man, the brewer, whose periodical circumgyrations with the
beer, round about Buttermere, gave, like the sun, life and heat to the
system of its inhabitants. In this dire emergency, Postlethwaite, whose
•deafness was found to increase exactly in proportion to the inconveni-
ence of the journeys required of him, was had out, and shaken well, and
bawled at, preparatory to a walk over to Lorton Vale, where the
brewery was situated — only six miles distant.

But his trip on this occasion was about as successful as the last, for
on reaching the spot, he found that the brewer, like the grocer, the
farrier, and the publicans, had disappeared for London on the same
pleasurable mission.

The family at Hassness was thus left without tea, beer, or bread,
and, consequently, reduced to the pure mountain stream for their
beverage, and oaten cakes and bacon for their principal diet. Their
stock of fresh meat was usually procured from Frank Hutchison, the
butcher of Cockermouth, but to go or send thither, under their present
circumstances, appeared to be impossible. So that Mrs. Sandboys
began to have serious alarms about two or three pimples that made
their appearance on Cursty's face, lest a continued course of salt meat
and oat-cake should end in the whole family being afflicted with the
scurvy. She would immediately have insisted on putting them, one
and all, under a severe course of treacle and brimstone, with a dash
of cream of tartar in it to " sweeten their blood ;" only, luckily, there
was neither treacle nor brimstone, nor cream of tartar, to be had for
twenty miles, nor anybody to go for it, and then, probably, nobody at
Mr. Bowerbank's to serve it.

Sandboys, seeing that he had no longer any hope in Postlethwaite,
was now awakened to the necessity of making a personal exertion.
His wife, overpowered by this addition of the loss of dinner to the loss
of tea, did not hesitate to suggest to him, that jjerhaps it might
be as well, if they consented to do like the rest of the world, and
betake themselves for a few days to London. For her OAvn part, she
was ready to make any sacrifice, even to face the London dirt. But
Sandboys would listen to no compromise, declaimed that greatness showed
itself alone in overcoming circumstances, — and talked grandly of his
forefathers, who had held out so long in these self-same mountain
fastnesses. Mrs. Sandboys had no objection to make to the heroism,
but she said that really Elcy's complexion required fresh meat; and
that although she herself was prepared to give up a great deal, yet
her Sunday's dinner was more than she was inclined to part with,
and as for sacrifices, she had already sacrificed enough in the loss of
her tea. Mr. Sandboys upon this bethought him of John Banks, the
pig-butcher at Lorton, and having a young porker just ready for the
knife, fancied he could not do better than despatch Postlethwaite with
the animal to Lorton to be slaughtered. This, however, was sooner

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 23

decided upon tliau effected; for Postletliwaite, ou being summoned,
made his appearance in slippers, and declared he had worn out, in
his several foraging excursions about the country, the only pair of
shoes he had left. Whereupon his master, though it was with some
difficulty he admitted the excuse, — and this not until Postlethwaite,
with a piteous gi-avity, had brought out a pair of calkered boots in the
very worst possible condition, — began to foresee that there was even
more necessity for Postlethwaite to be shod than Paddy, for that
unless he could be got over to Cockermouth, they might be fairly
starved ost. Accordingly, he gave his son Jobby instructions to make
the best of his way to the two shoemakers, who resided within five
miles of Hassness, for he made sure that one of the cobblers at least
could be prevailed upon to put Postlethwaite in immediate travelling
order.

It was long after nightfall, and :Mrs. Sandboys had grown very
imeasy as to the fate of her dear boy, when Postlethwaite was heard
condoling over the miserable plight of :Master Jobby. His mother
rushed out to see what had happened, and found the bedraggled youth
standing with one shoe in the hall, the other having been left behind
in a bog, which he had met with in his attempt to make a short cut
home on the other side of the lake by Melbrake.

Nor was the news he brought of a more cheerful nature. John
Jackson the shoemaker was nowhere to be found. He had not been
heard of since the departure of the train ; and John Coss, the other
shoemaker, had turned post-boy again, and refused to do any cobbling
whatsoever. Coss had told him he got a job to take some gentlefolks
in a car over to Carlisle, to meet the train for London, and he was
just about to start; and if Jobby liked, he would give him a lift thus
far on t' road to Girt 'Shibition.

This was a sad damper for Sandboys, for with John Jackson the
shoemaker seemed to vanish his last hope. Postlethwaite had worn
out his boots, Jobby had lost his shoes, and John Jackson and John
Coss, the only men, within ten miles, who could refit them, were both
too fully taken up with the Great Exhibition to trouble their heads
about the destitution of Hassness.

Postlethwaite almost smiled when he heard the result of Jobby's
twelve-mile walk, and drily remarked to the servant-maid, who
already sliowed strong symptoms of discontent — having herself a
sweetheart exjjosed, without her care, to the temptatitjns and wicked-
ness of London — that the whole family would be soon barefoot, and
going about the countryside trying to get one another shod.

Saiidl>oys consulted with his wife as to what was to be done, l)ut
she administered but little consolation; for the loss of her tt;a^, and
the prospect of no Sunday's dinner, had ruflied her usual c«iuaniniity.
The sight of her darling boy, too, baref(Jot and footsore, aroused every
paasion of her mother's heart. Jobby liad no other shoes to his leet
she told her husband, for the rate at which UmI boy wore his tilings
out was quite terrible to a mother's feelings; but Mr. SundboyH hud
no right to send the lad to such a distance, after such weather as they

24 1851; OR, the adventures of

had just had. He might have known that Jobby was always taking
short cuts, and always getting up to his knees in some mess or other;
and he must naturally have expected that Jobby would have left both
his shoes behind him instead of one — and those the only shoes he
had. She should not wonder if Mr. Sandboys had done it for the
purpose. Who was to go the errands now, she should like to know?
Mr. Sandboys, perhaps, liked living there, in that out-of-the-way hole,
like a giant or a hennit. Did he expect that she or Elcy were going
to drive that pig to Lorton? — And thus she continued, going over and
over again every one of the troubles that their absence from London
had brought upon them, until Sandboys was Avorried into excitement,
and plumply demanded of her whether she actually wished to go
herself to the Exhibition? Mrs. Sandboys was at no loss for a reply,
and retorted, that what she wanted was her usual meals, and shoes
for her children ; and if she could not get them there, why, she did
not care if she had to go to Hyde Park for them.

Sandboys -was little prepared for this confession of hostilities on
the part of his beloved Aggy. He had never known her address
him in such a tone since the day she swore at Lorton to honour and
obey him. He jumj^ed from his chair and began to pace the room —
now wondering what had come to his family and servants, now
lamenting the want of tea, now sympathizing with the absence of ale,
now biting his thumb as he contemplated the approximating dilemma
of a dinnerless Sunday, and now inwardly cursing the Great Exhibi-
tion, Avhich had not only taken all his neighbours from him, and
deprived him of almost all the necessaries of life, but seemed destined
to estrange his wife and children !

For a moment the idea passed across his mind, that perhaps it
might be better to give way; but he cast the thought from him
immediately, and as he trod the room -svith redoubled quickness and
firmness of step, he buttoned his grey coat energetically across his
breast, swelling with a resolution to make a desperate eftbrt. He
would drive the pig himself over to John Banks, the pig-butcher's, at
Lorton ! But, as in the case of Postlethwaite, Mr. Cursty Sandboys
soon found that resolving to drive a pig was a far different thing
from doing it. Even in a level country the pig-driving art is none
of the most facile acquirements, — but where the way to be traversed
consists at eveiy other yard of either a fell, a craig, a gill, a morass,
a comb, a pike, a knot, a rigg, a skar, a beck, a howe, a force, a
syke, or a tarn, or some other variety of those comfortable quarters
into which a pig, with his peculiar j^erversity, would take especial
delight in introducing his comjxignon de voyage — the accomplishment
of pig-driving in Cumberland partakes of the character of what
sesthetic critics love to term " High Art."

Nor did Mr. Sandboy's pig — in spite of the benevolence and " sops"
administered during his education by the gentle Elcy, who shed tears
at his departure — at all detract from the glories of his race. Contrary
to the earnest advice of Postlethwaite, founded on the experience of
ages, who exhorted his master to keen the strino- loose in his hand —

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 25

Sandboys, who had a theory of his own about pig-driving, and who
was afraid that if the animal once got away from him in the hills, he
would carry with him the family's only chance of fresh meat for
weeks to come — made uj) his mind to keep a safe hold of him, and so,
twisted the string which he had attached to the porker's leg two or
three turns round his own wrist.

Scarcely had Elcy petitioned her brother for the gentle treatment
of her pet " piggy, " than, crack ! Jobby, who held the whip at the gate,
while his father adjusted the reins, sent a flanker on the auimal's hind-
quarters. Away Avent " piggy," and Ave regret to say, away went the
innocent Sandboys, not after, but Avith him — and precisely in the oppo-
site direction to Avhat he had intended. " Cwoley," the dog, Avho had
been dancing round the pig at the gate, no sooner saAV the animal start
off at score, than entering into the spirit of the scene, he gave full chase,
yelping, and jumping, and snapping at him, so that the terrified porker
fetched sharp round upon Sandboys, and bolted straight up the moun-
tain side.

NoAv, to the stranger it should be made known, that climbing the
fells of Cumberland is no slight task — even Avhen the traA'eller is
alloAved to pick his steps; but, Avith a pig to lead, no choice but to
folloAA', and a dog behind to urge the porker on, the operation becomes
one of considerable hardship, if not peril. Moreover, the mountain,
over which Mr. Sandboys' pig had chosen to make his course, Avas
called " the Moss," or " Morass," from its peculiar swampy character.
Up AA'ent the pig, through bracken, and furze, and holly-])Ush, and up
by the stunted oaks, and short-cut stumps, and straight on, up through
the larches, over the rugged clump above Hassness ; and up Avent Mr.
Sandboys, oA'er and through every one of the same obstacles, making-
a fresh rent in his trousei's at every " Avhin-bush" — scratched, torn,
panting, slii)ping, and — if Ave must confess it — SAvearing; noAV tum-
bling, now up again, but still holding on to the pig, or the pig liolding
on to him, for grim death.

But if it Avere difficult to ascend a Cumberland fell Avith a pig in
front, how much more trying the descent ! No sooner had " CSvoley"
turned the pig at the toj), than Sandl)oy6, as he looked down the
prccij^itous mountain up Avhich his ])orker had dragged him, " saw
his work before him." It rerjuired but a slight momentum to start
him; then, away they all three Avent together — in racing technology
"you might have covered them Avith a sheet" — the dog barking, and
the pig squeaking, and dragging Mr. Sandlwys doAvn the hill, at a
rate that promised to bring him to the bottom Avith more celerity tliau
safety. Unfortunately, too, the pig took his course toAvards the beck
formed by the torrent at the "Coat's Gills;" and no sooner did it rewh
the ravine, than, Avorried by the dog, it precipitated itself and Mr. Sand-
boys right down into the ibamiiig, but luckily not very <leep, Avaters.

But, if it Avere not deep, th<! bottom of tiic beck Avas at least stony ;
and there, on his back, Avitiioiit breath to cry out, lay tlie Avrctrlic(l
Sandboy.s, a victim to his theory, his coat skirtless, lii.s i)antalo(.ns
torn to' .siireds, and the Avaters cuHiiig wliite aijont liini, with the

26 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

driving string in his liand, cut by the sharp craigs in his fall — while
the legs, the loin, the griskin, and the chine — that were to have
consoled the family for weeks, were running off upon the pettitoes
which he had privately set aside for his own supper on some quiet
evening.

Elcy, who, throughout the whole chase, had been bewailing tlie poor
''piggey's" troubles, and exclaiming to her father not to hurt it,
screamed with terror as, from the gate, she saw the plunge and splash;
while the \vicked Jobby, who had been rendered powerless by laughter,
and the want of shoes, and Postlethwaite, who also had been inwardly
enjoying the scene, now rushed forward to the rescue, in company
with the Avhole household, and dragged out from the beck the
bruised, tattered, bedraggled, bespattered, bedrenched, and wretched
Sandboys — the more annoyed, because the first inquiry addressed
to him by Mrs. Sandboys, in a voice of mingled terror and tenderness,
was, " Whatever luis become of the pig?"

That Avas a mystery which took some hour or two to solve ; for it
was not until Elcy and Jobby, in Postlethwaite's old shoes, had explored
both Robinson and the Moss, that they caught sight of " Cwoley " on
the slope beside the foot of Buttermere Lake, dancing, in wild delight,
round the shaft of a deserted mine, known as " Muddock," where, as
became evident from the string twisted round the bushes, the pig,
like Curtius, had plunged suicidally into the gulf, and was then lying,
unbaked, unroasted, and unboiled, in twelve foot water !

Sandboys, when the news was brought him, was, both metaphori-
cally and literally, in hot water. He sat with his two feet in a
steaming pail, and wrapped in a blanket, with a basin of smoking oat-
meal gruel in his hand, Mrs. Sandboys by his side, airing a clean shirt
at the fire, and vowing all the while, that she should not wonder if
his obstinacy in stopping down there, starving all the family, and
denying them even the necessaries of life, to gratify his own perversity,
were not the death of herself and the dear children. If he caught his
death, he would only have himself to blame; for there was not a
Dover's Powder within twenty miles to be had for love or money};
and as for tallowing his nose, it was more than she could afford to do,
for the candles were running so short, and there was not a tallow-
chandler remaining in the neighbourhood, so that in a few days she
knew that, all through his fine management, they would be left not only
tealess, beerless, meatless, and, she wovid add, her dear boy shoeless,
but also in jiositive darkness.

This second outbreak on the part of the generally placid and anti-
metropolitan Mrs. Sandboys was superinduced by a discovery she had
made that morning, when about to give out the soap for the next day's
monthly wash. She then remembered that the stock, which she had
ordered of Harker had not come to hand ; and there being no oppor-
tunity of getting to Dodgson or to Herd — supposing either of them
to be at Cockermouth — or of reaching any other oilman or tallow-
chandler — even if such a character existed in the neighbourhood within
a circuit of fifty miles— she began to see that by remaining at Hass-

MR. AND MRS. CQRSTY SANDBOYS. 27

ness, she and lier children would positively be reduced to a more
horrible state of dirtiness than the metropolis could possibly emulate,
even taking for granted the truth of all the reports concerning the
Thames water, which Mr. Sandboys delighted in reading to her from
the newspapers.

Scarcely had Mrs. Sandboys given vent to this " bit of her mind,"
than the forms of long Postlethwaite aud little Ann Lightfoot appeared
at the door, to give the miserable Cursty " warning." Ann Light-
foot begged to state, that the coals Avere beginning to run so short,
and the large fire Mr. Sandboys had just made up to dry his clothes
and shoes had so reduced their small stock, that they would be left
without a spark in the range below stairs ; aud they had made up
their minds to leave the very next day, for the kitchen was so damp,
that, without a fire, they knew it would be the death of them.

Sandboys remonstrated, saying, that some of the slate-carts from the
quarries at Honister would be sure to be passing the house on their
way to Cockermouth, and they might order them to bring him a
return cargo of coals from Great Southern. But Postlethwaite, with
a pertinacity the reverse of pleasant, replied, that he had thought of
all this Ijefore, if his master had not ; and had watched two days con-
secutively, without seeing a single cart; Master Jobby, besides, had
told him he knew there was no one working at the quarries, for he
had not heard the sound of the blasting during the last fortnight.
Without beer, without meat, without tea, without sugar, without coals,
and, what was more, without tobacco — as he had been for the last ten
days — Postlethwaite observed, he thought it was hard his master
should expect him and Ann to stop, when the lassie was almost
starved ; it Avould be far better that they should leave the family to
share amongst them the few provisions remaining.

Here Ann Lightfoot began to wipe the tears from her eyes with the
comer of her apron — an action that ])roduced a series of sympathe-
tica! sobs from Mrs. Sandboys, who hysterically gurgled out, that it
was impossible to tell what would become of them all in that dreadful
lonely, damp place, — without medicine — or doctor — or dinner — or
even the means of warming, or lighting, or cleaning themselves !

It was at this juncture that Elcy entered the room, her blue eyes
bathed in a Hood of tears, to i)our into her father's l)osom the fate of
her beloved "piggy!" Overpowered with this battery of hysterics,
and the accumulated distresses and disali'ection of his united house-
bold, Sandljoys would have rushed from the apartment — and, indeed,
did make an effort to do so; but remembering the paucity of his attire,
he plumped rapidly down again, wrapping his blanket round him
with the dignity of an Indian chief.

It was im]>ossible, however, after a fortnight's low living, to main-
tain for a length of time anything like grandeur of soul, so
Sandboys soon got to particijjate in that depression of spirits which,
owing to the Hi)are diet, had ijegun to pervade the whole household
at Hassness. In a few minutes the would-be stoical Cursty was
melted, like the rest of them, into tears. Now blubbering, now

38 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

snivelling, now sobbing, he proceeded to appeal to the generosity of
Postlethwaite and the feelings of Ann Lightfoot, he spoke of their
long services, and how the aftection between the master and the
servant was the pride of their native county, and imploringly
besought them not to leave him in his present position, but to wait
only a few days longer, when their friends and neighbours could not
fail of returning; for he was convinced London wickedness must pall,
after a brief experience, upon the pure and simple minds of the people
of Buttermere; and he wound up by pointing to his children, and begged
of them not to force him to drag those dear innocents into the foul
contamination of a London life.

This appeal had not the desired effect. Postlethwaite, although
he had been with Sandboys since a boy, and looked upon .lobby,
from long association, almost as a child of his own, — and although in
the most lively period of the village, he had never been known to take
part in the festivities, nor had made his appearance at a " Merry
Night," for the last fifteen years — neverflieless, felt himself, after the
departure of the Excursion-train of his fellow villagers, lonely and ill-
used, in not being allowed to participate in the general holiday. The
consequence was, that Mr. Sandboys' eloquence was utterly lost upon
the surliness that had usurped the place of his usual regard and respect
for his master.

Moreover, Ann Lightfoot had been luiable to get over the loss of
her " Jwohnny," whom, with a jaundiced eye, she saw clattering away,
in calkered boots, at all the merry nights of London, now standing
up in many a square-eight reel, or now kneeling at the feet of some
" fause-feaced fair," in the sly vagaries of the Cushion-dance. Under
these circumstances, she had passed her evenings unusually lonely,
even for Buttermere; and having no lover to sit up for at night, she
had usually spent her leisure time with Postlethwaite, mutually grum-
bling by the kitchen fire, and filling his mind with ideas and desires for
London enjoyments, to which he would otherwise have been an entire
stranger. Accordingly. Ann Lightfoot was as little inclined as Deaf
Postlethwaite, and Deaf Postlethwaite as little inclined as Ann Light-
foot— for the grumblings of the one were echoed in the growlings of
the other — to be in any way modified by their master's appeal to their
feelings. So Postlethwaite murmured out that they had made up their
minds to go the next day, >vithout further warning.

Sandboys, shuddering, saw the coming desolation of his home, and
for a moment had serious thoughts of calling in the constable to make
them fulfil their engagements. But, alas, his next remembrance was
that the constable, like the grocer, and the blacksmith, and the cobblers,
had gone up to London to see the Great Exhibition.

The wretched Cursty resigned himself to his fate. But Fate had
still something worse in store for him. No sooner had the servants
discharged themselves, than Mrs. Sandboys unmasked a new grievance,
and opened a full battery upon him, as he sat dismal and desponding,
in the blanket, sipping his gruel in deep despair. She told him, as
she handed him the clean shirt she had been airing, that she would ad-

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 29

vise him to take great care of it — that was the last their stock of soap
woukl allowhim to have — it miglit he formonths — and she would advise,
too, him to do, as he had read to her from the newspaper the other day,
the nasty, tilthy Russians did— and grease it all over well, so that he
might wear it until it dropped oft' his hody, for she could tell him he
wouldn't have another until he went to fetch tlicit Marker from the
Great Exhibition. She did not mind, she told him, so much about
the loss of her tea — severe trial as that was to her, and re([uiring all
her Christian fortitude to bear — the want of beer was little or no
privation to her — it was the servants — the poor, hard-working ser-
vants that she felt for. The dearth of fresh meat did not aftect her —
it was her dear Elcy's complexion that she looked at j she could have
gone barefoot all her life herself, but the idea of her children going
about the earth shoeless, realized a wretchedness that she never could
have imagined when she left her father's home.

Still this was nothing — wretchedness was nothing — starvation was
nothing — shoelessness was nothing, compared with the want of soap —
she could bear anything but dirt. It was the terror of that had
kept her from going to London, and now she saw that, in spite of all
her efforts, Mr. Sandboys' obstinacy about his trumpciy wickedness
would bring upon her those very horrors which she had made so many
sacrifices to avoid. She did not care about any of his Ureat Exhi-
bitions, only all she knew was, that she would rather go tlu-ough any
wickedness than live in the dirt that she could see he was forcing her into.
Stay in Hassness she would not; and she had made u[) her mind, as
Mr. Sandboys would not leave it, that she would throw herself on
Messrs. Brag and Steal, and trust to them — for they were her father's
lawyers — to make him provide her with a separate and comfortable
maintenance. Dearly as she once had loved him, she loved cleanliness
more, and it remained for him to say whether they were to continue
any longer together in the same wholesome state in which they had
lived for thirty long years. And having given vent to her feelings,
she seized the bed-candlestick and marched indignantly into Elcy's
room, where she declared her resolution to pass the night.

Sandboys, in the enthusiasm of his excited feelings and the sad
prospect of his threatened Avidowerhood, would have jumped up and
followed her; but again remembering the paucity of his attire, sank
back into his chair. In a few mimites it struck him that he had been
sitting with his feet in the pail until the water had become as cold
as tliat of the brook into which he had tuinbled, and he began
to think that, by remaining in his present position, he was ))erhaps
adding another cold to the one he had already caught, in his fatal
attempt at theoretical and j)ractical pig driving.

For the first time since his wedding-diiy, Cursty Sandl)oys was left
to monopolize the amplitude of the matrimonial feather-bed, and no
sooner had he rested his nightcap on his pillow, than there began to
pass before his mini! a dismal diorama of all the incidents of tiie day.
As he looked uj)on the picture of the destitution, and desolation, and
devastation, and denudation uf liis home, he half-relented of his stern

30 ' 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

resolve. For himself and Mrs. Sandboys he feared not the infection
of the Great Metropolis ; but it was the young and trusting Elcy,
and the too- adventurous Jobby — that caused the trepidation of
his soul. First he thought of the suflPerings and the privations
around him — and then he asked himself whether he were making
his children and his household suffer these for what was a mere
whim on his own part. Was not the sacrifice he required too much
for youthful minds, and was he not once young himself? The reply
of experience was, that he certainly Itad been young, but that he
never had felt any wish to travel further than ten miles from his
native valley. And as the conflict of affection and determination
went on in his brain, he now felt assured it was all selfishness on his
part to keep his children locked up in abstemious solitude — and the
next moment was declaring that he should be a woman, and worse than
a woman, if he were weak enough to allow them whom he loved best in
all the world to be exposed to the vicious allurements of the Great
Metropolis. Now he was all ice — and now the ice was thawing with
the brine of his tears — now he was rock — and now, like Hannibal,
he was cutting a way towards London through his bosom with the
vinegar of repentance.

The first thing that met Mr. Sandboys' eyes in the morning was the
pair of trousers in which he had driven the pig on the previous day.
Again and again he gazed upon the ruins, for, until that moment, he had
no definite idea as to the tatterdemalion state of his nether garments.
The legs hung in long strips down the chair-back, more like shreds of
list than human pantaloons; and, as he looked at them, he bethought
him, for the first time, that his other pair, which he had just had made
of his own grey, had been sent a fortnight previously to Johnson, the
Loweswater tailor, to be altered, by Mrs. Sandboys, who took a great
pride in her Cursty's appearance, and found fault with the cut of them,
declaring they were not sufficiently tight at the knees, or wide enough
over the boot, for the last new fashion.

Sandboys felt it was in vain for a man to talk of independence, who
was destitute of pantaloons, and, fearing even to speak of the subject
to his wife, lest a repetition of the previous night's scene might be
enacted, sent a private message to his son Jobby, requesting his
attendance to a conference in the bed-room.

Jobby, when informed of the primitive and paradisiacal condition
of his parent, chuckled inwardly as he foresaw the dilemma in which
the disclosure he had to make would place the nether half of the old
o-entleman. Accordingly, when Sandboys confidentially solicited him
to put on his father's shoes, and make the greatest possible haste
over to Johnson for his father's best trousers, it was with some diffi-
culty that his son could inform him, with that respect which is due
to a parent, that, on his last fruitless visit to Brackenthwaite, John
Coss had told him he was going to call at Loweswater, on his way to
Carlisle, and take up all the Johnsons, both uncle and nephew, for
the mail train to London.

This was more than poor Sandboys expected, and a heavy blow to

ME. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 31

him, for he foresaw that the proprieties of life would compel him to
keep between the sheets, iiutil such time as he could venture to
broach the subject of his denuded and destitute state to Ids better
half. To lie in bed Avas his only resource ; but to lie in bed was to
make him more and more sensible of the utter destitution in which
he was involved. He had received no newspapers for a fortnight,
and of all things he loved his newspapers the dearest. The loss of
them in such a state, at such a time, he felt more than all. He might,
perhaps, have borne the absence of his pantaloons with all the pride
of mart}Tdom ; but to be cut off" from connexion with the outer world
of wickedness, in which he took such extreme interest, was more than
human philosophy or mountain stoicism could bear — for what is soli-
tude without a newspaper ! Here was he, three hundred and one miles
from London, in a lonely house, without a single " daring robbery"
to comfort him, or a " diabolical murder" to put life into him! All
the " successful swindling " of the metropolis was going on without
his knowledge ; and the excursionists from his native county were, he
felt satisfied, being plundered, one and all, without his being, as he
longed to be, in any Avay privy to it !

In this situation, thus contemplating, Mr. Sandboys passed the
day — a Zimmerman between the blankets. At last, as the shades of
night began to shut out Melbrakc from before his bed-room window,
and when Mrs. Sandboys came to his bedside for the basin which had
contained his thin meal of gruel, as he sat up to receive her he
humbly petitioned her, Avith a melancholy shake of the tuft on the
top of his white cotton night-cap, to allow him one of the old news-
papers and a light, so that he might relieve his mind by perusing
some of the trials at the Central Criminal Court; if he might be
allowed to choose, he would prefer that Observer and supplement
which contained those charming twenty columns of the last frightful
London murder.

But to make the request was to open afresh the vials of Mrs. Sand-
boys' -vvrath; for she gave him plainly to understand that, coal -less as
they were below, Postlethwaite had been obliged to fell some of the
trees, and that the holly was so green that she had been forced to
bum every new.spaper in the house in her struggles to make a fire.
Indeed, were it not that they had mustered all hands, and taken turn
and turn about at the bellows, every fifteen minutes, all the day
through, the family would not have been ablp to have had a mouthful
of anything warm to eat ; and now that the last double Ti?>u\^ had
gone, she had left Postlethwaite and Ann and Elcy and poor Jobby
seated round a tireless grate, in the circular drawing-room, i)artak-
ing of (jatmcal mixed in cold water by way of tea.

liitterly conscious of his deficiency as regarded pantaloons, and
feeling acutely the privation as well as the destruction of his news-
papers, the otherwise l>enevolent soul of Sandboys reverted for a
moment into the primitive selfishness of savage life; and, seeing no
other sorrows but liis own, he angrily glared on Mrs. Sanilboys, and
burst out, " How dar'sta, Aggy, burn t' papers?''

32 1851 ; oil, the adventures of

Mrs. Sandboys recoiled ! It was the first time she had ever heard
her dear Cursty address her in such a tone. Her woman's heart fell,
and she whimpered out, as she threw herself on the bed, " I cuddent
help it, Cursty, an if I cud, thar was nae a candle in t' house for tha
to read by."

Cursty fell back upon his pillows, and putting his hands over his
eyes, saw vividly pass before his imagination, his house without
candle, his servants without fire, his wife without soap, his boy without
shoes, and himself without breeches !

In that one moment he perceived that it was useless to think of
holding out any longer — London lost its horrors compared with the
privations of Hassness; so gulping down the cup of bitterness, he
told his wife he had made up his mind to be ofi" to the metropolis
the next morning.

The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when there again
rose up before his eyes the direful gashes of his inexpressibles — the
barefooted state of his boy ! But Mrs. Sandboys soon put an end to
all suggested difficulties, and that evening saw the happy Aggy sitting
by the bed-side of her beloved Cursty, and, by the light of a lamp
made out of fat bacon and darning-cotton, sewing away at one of the
lacerated legs of the trousers, with a light heart, and the strongest
black thread ; while Elcy was taking the l)ows off a pair of her mother's
shoes, which, at a family consultation, it had been arranged would
serve to equip Jobby, at least for the walk to Cockermouth, where
he and his father might, perhaps, be able to pi-ovide themselves with
necessaries for the voyage to Loudon.

Previous to leaving Hassness the next morning, Mr. Sandboys
summoned the whole of his family together into the dining-room, and
.addressed them in a cheerful though solemn manner, saying he
regretted to see that, under their late trials, they had evinced an
unphilosophical Avant of vivacity, which he considered to be utterly
unworthy of the hardy natives of Cumberland. He wished it, there-
fore, to be distinctly understood, that he accompanied them to London
upon a single condition only, and that was — that they one and all
made up their minds, come Avhat might, to enjoy themselves.

How the Sandboys got to Town — the misadventures that happened
to them on the road — the difficulties that the family experienced in
obtaining shelter when they reached the metropolis— how they were
glad to accept of any wretched hole to lay their heads in for the
ni'^dit; and when they did obtain a bed, the trouble that Ish: and
Mrs. Sandboys found in their endeavours to get their two selves
fairly into it — the dire calamity that befel them while reposing in it,
and how excessively hard they found it under these, and many other
circumstances, to carry out the principle of enjoying themselves, —
all this, and much more, remains to be told in the succeeding
chapters of this eventful history.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 33

CHAPTEK IV.

" Haa me that peype, weyfe ! I'll smiiik an' tliiuk.

Nay, (luuiiet cry, we ue'er did wrang;
The truth I'll state, whate'er teks pleace,

To Carel sizes when I gang;
We plenty liev, we'll dui what's reeglit, weyfe.

An' whop (hope) heath lang may happy be.
Now supper's ruddy, weep nae mair, weyfe,

Ay fain I'd see a smeyle frae thee." — Bad News.

Mr. Sandboys prided himself on being a " bit of a philosopher."
His great weakness consisted in his imaginary strength of mind. In
his college days at St. Bees he had been charmed with the classic
chronicles of Grecian stoicism and Roman fortitude, and, ever since,
had been endeavouring to talk himself, out of all feeling and affection,
into the hero. To his great self-satisfaction, he now believed he
could bear any stroke of Fate, hoAvever severe or unexpected, without
so much as a vnnk of his " mind's eye," and he flattered himself that
he had arrived at that much-to-be-desired state of insensibility which
would enable him, like a Bnttermere Brutus, to halul his own son
Jobby over to the Carlisle hangman with no more compunction — as
he delighted to tell that young gentleman, much to his horror — than
he would take one of his " lean sheep" to Lanthwaite (Ti-een Fair.

And yet, truth to say, the heart of the heroic Mr. Sandboys was
as soft as new bread, though he would have had the world believe
it was as hard and dry as sea biscuit. If Cursty had any onett/e at
all in his constitution it was that particular kind of " fusible alloy"
which melts at the least warmth, and loses all consistency imme-
diately it gets into hot water.

No metaphysician has ever yet explained why poor perverse human
nature always fancies it has a special talent for doing something the
very o[)posite to that in which it happens to excel. iJoubtlessly, if
the truth could l)e known, we should find Sir John Herschel secretly
regarding himself as a .small astronomer, but taking great pride in
his imitation of frying sausages; and Faraday thinking little of his
discoveries in diamagnetism, Init flattering himself that he could palm
a pea better than any thimble-rigger in the kingdom. J'rofessnr
Owen, for what we know, may despise himself as a comparative
anatomist, but think far from meanly of his abilities as a player on
the l)ones, and Archbishoj) Whately in his own eyes sliine less in
logic than in the mixture of a lobster salad, or the brewing of wiiiskc}
punch.

Even so was it with Mr. Cursty Sandboys ! Naturally kind-hearted,
and weak almost to an extreme, he conceited himself that he was firm
and immoveable, amid the storms of life, as a human light-house, or
as light-hearted and lively in the midst of all his " ujjs-and-downs" ns
the celebrated old liuoy at the Nore. Nothing he coveted more than

u

34 1851; OR, the adventctres of

decision of character, and yet no man was more undecided. Theoreti-
cally he was steel, but practically he Avas only case-hardened with a
surface of philosoph}-.

As he journeyed along the road to Cockermouth, he was busy
revolving in his own uuud the incidents of the previous week. Had
he allowed himself to be conquered by circumstances? Had he per-
mitted the loss of his nether garments to wrest him from his purpose?
Had he, because deprived of the distinctive feature of his " outward
man," been led to play the Avoman? Had he forgotten all that he had
been so long teaching himself, and lost all that made Man admirable
when he lost his breeches? " True," he said, " Man was but a savage
without such things — but then," he asked himself, " might he not
become effeminate with them?"

And as he trudged along the winding Hause, chewing the cud of
his thoughts, the Buttermere philosopher got to look ujion the ineffable
part of Man's apparel as one of the many evils of civilized life — the
cause of much moral weakness and social misery. If such garments
were not naturally effeminate, why," he went on inquiring of himself,
" should all women have so great a desire to wear them ? Were they
not," he said, '• the cause of more than half of the conjugal conten-
tions of the present day? — Was not matrimony, generally, one long
struggle betweerPman and wife as to who should jiossess these insignia
of the domestic monarchy?"

And thus the unconventional Mr. Sandboj'S proceeded in his sar-
torial catechism, until he got to convince himself that Sin originally
came into the world with breeches, and that the true meaning of the
allegory of the apple was, that the Serpent had tempted the great
Mother Eve with a pair.

Wliile Mr. Sandboys was thus philosophically reviewing his conduct,
the more domestic partner of his bosom Avas mentally " looking
after" the luggage that she had left behind in charge of Postlethwaite
and Ann Lightfoot, until she could send a suitable conveyance for it.
Though it had been agreed that the family were but to stay a week in
the Metropolis, and Mr. Sandboys, knowing that women, Avhen on the
wing, Avant the Peacock's faculty of packing up their fine feathers
in the smallest possible compass, had gi\'en strict injunctions that
they should take only such things as Avere absolutely necessary. But,
primitive as AA'ere the denizens of Buttermere, and far removed as its
mountain-fastnesses seemed from the realms of fashion, the increased
facilities of intercommunication had not failed to diftuse a knoAA'ledge
of Polkas and Crinolines among the female portion of its pastoral people;
so that AA'hat with " best bonnets," and " dress caps," that had to be
stoAved aAvay in square black boxes kept expressly for them — and
gOAvns, with so many breadths and flounces, that, to prevent being
crushed, they required nearly a Avhole trunk to themselves — and morn-
ing dresses and evening dresses — and cardinals and paletots — and be-
iaced and be-frilled night-caps and night-gowns — all equally incom-
pressible— and muffs and tippets — and whiskers and artificial flowers
and feathers- — and bustles and false fronts, that did not admit of any

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 35

more compact stowage — and bottles of bandoline and perfume- — and
pots of cold cream and lip salve — and writing-cases and work-boxes —
all and every of which the ladies declared to be positively indispensable
for the trip ; — what with these things, we say, it was found that by the
time the packing was done, the boxes, and trunks, and ]X)rtmanteaus,
and carpet-bags, and hat-cases, and band-boxes, and umbrellas, that
constituted the family luggage, amounted to no less than three-and-
twenty different articles. Each of these the careful Mrs. Sandboys
had duly set down and numbered on a card which she carried with
her, and which she kept continually dra^ving fi-om her Ijosom and
reading over as she journeyed along.

Jobby and Elcy walked in the rear ; the former thinking of nothing,
but full of Avhat are called animal spirits, skittish as a colt, and
unable to continue long at any one thing, — now throwing up a stone
and endeavouring to hit it as it descended through the air, to the
imminent peril of his mother's bonnet — then making " ducks and
drakes " along the lake with small pieces of the mountain slate — the
next moment aiming at some bird as it skimmed across the water —
the next, scampering up the hill-side with his sister Elcy's miserable-
looking and most unsportsman-like Italian greyhound at his heels,
starting the mountain sheep — and then descending vnth several sprigs
of the "whin" or furze bushes in his hand, and stealthily dropping
them into his father's coat-tail pocket, in the earnest hope of seeing the
old gentleman shortly sit down to rest himself by the way on some
neighbouring crag.

Elcy, with her eyes moist with tears — though she hardly knew why
—was too sad to talk, or mind the tricks that her brother played
with either her father or her poor little shivering pet dog. It was the
first time she had ever left her home; and though her woman's
curiosity made her long to see Loudon, of which she had heard so
much, the departure from Hassness was like leaving some dear old
friend. The mountains, which for so many years she had seen, flushed
with the young light, "first thing" when she opened her eyes in the
morning, she had got to know and almost love like living things.
She had watched them under every aspect, — with the white snow
lying on them, and bringing them so close that they lookeil like huge
icebergs floating towards her — or with the noonday sun lighting up
their green sides, and the shapes of the opposite peaks and crags
painted in black shadow upon them — or with the million stars shining
in the grey sky above their heads, like luminous dust, and their huge
dim fonns sleeping in the haze of the moonlight, and looking like
distant storm-clouds rather than solid masses of rock.

Each of the hills round about had its own proper name, and so
had assumed a kind of natural personification in Elcy's mind. Every
one, to her fancy, was a ditlerent being associated with a difforonfc
feeling; for some she had the same reverence as for the aged, while
some, woman-like, she half loved for the sense of ])o\vcr they im-
pressed her with. And as she journeyed along the banks of the lakes
they Burrounded, and each fre.'ih turn brouglit some licw mountain

1>U

36 1851; OR, the adventures of

form into siglit, a dark train of melancholy thoughts swept across her
mind like the shadows of clouds flitting along some peaceful meadow,
and she trod the i)ath with the sound of an ideal bell droning in her ears.

Thus the Sandboys travelled on to the house of John Coss, the
cobbler post-boy, in the hopes of getting some sort of a conveyance
over to Cockermouth. But though John Coss was nowhere to be
met with, they were, luckily, just in time to catch the Loweswater
post-master, who, finding that all the correspondence in that part of
the country had come to an end, had stuck up a notice that the letter-
box at his office would be closed till after the Great Exhibition, and
was then on his way, in the empty mail-cart, to the Cockermouth
railway station.

Once at Cockennouth, the necessary preparations were soon made
for the Sandboys' journey to the great metropolis. Jobby was shod,
Cursty himself was breeched ; Postlethwaite, Ann Lightfoot, and the
" things" were duly removed from Hassness, and everything seemed to
promise that the family really locnild enjoy themselves at last.

They were but just in time for obtaining their outfit. All the
principal gentry and tradesmen had already left the town, and the
smaller fry were making ready to follow the examples of their bigger
brethren. The shutters of the Castle were closed, the mail-coach of
" the General " had been put on the rails and carried to London, with
" the Lord Paramount" shut up inside of it. At Derwent House the
blinds had all been papered, and the gilt frames and chandeliers put
into brown holland pinafores, while Lawyer Steel himself had pleaded
a set-oft', and moved himself, by writ of some kind or other, to the
capital. The little grey pony, upon whose " body " Coroner Brag-
had so often " sat," had been put upon board-wages at the Globe Inn.
Doctor Bell and his brother " Dickey," the cheerful, smiling, good-
natured " medical men " of the town, had for a time ceased that
friendly interchange of commodities which consisted in the giving of
physic and the taking of wine with their several patients, and finding
that their invalids had all taken to their " last legs," — that the con-
sumptions had gone galloping oft" — and that the declines had suddenly
got out of " the last stage," and jumped into the first train, the
Esculapian Adelphi had felt each other's pulse, and respectively
prescribing a few weeks' change of air for their complaints, had both
started after their patients, as lively as return hearses.

Even Jonathan Wood, the quondam Boniface, who, like Atlas of
old, used to have the whole Aveight of " the Globe " on his shoulders,
and had supported it till he had positively got red in the face — even
jolly Jonathan himself had disappeared from the town. " The Sun,"
too, had lost all attraction to its attendant planets, Avho, no longer
gravitating towards it, had flown oft' at a tangent to the metropolis.

But though there was neither heat nor light in the " Sun," at
Cockermouth, still in the interior of the " Globe " there Avas a small
fire, and here beside the grateful hobs of the cosey hostelry, Mr., Mrs.,
and the younger Sandboys located themselves until such time as all
>A'as ready for the start.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 37

The journey from Cockermouth to Workiugtou per rail is by no
means of an agreeable character. The line being in none of the
most flourishing conditions, every means for economizing the " work-
ing expenses" have been resorted to. The men engaged upon it have
been cut down to boys ; so that the establishment has very nmch the
look of a kind of railway academy, where the porters on the platform
are ever playing at marbles or leapfrog, where the policemen all wear
pinafores, and where the clerks are taken to the station in the morn-
ing, and " fetched" in the evening by the maids of their anxious
parents. We liave heard the united ages of the entire staff, but fear
to mention the small amount, lest a too incredulous public should
accuse us of magnifying, or rather parvifying the tenderness of their
years. Suffice it that not a razor is used by the whole establishment ;
and that the " staff," — we have it on the best authority — are alloAved
to give over work an hour earlier every Saturday evening, in consi-
deration of its being "tub-night."

With a further view to effecting that financial reform Avhich is so
popular at the present moment, the coal bills of the company recently
xmderwcnt a minute scrutiny, and the important discovery made — after
working several very difficult sums — that the heavy amount of
eighteen shillings and a fraction weekly could be saved by using
coals instead of coke ; whereupon a resolution was inmiediately passed
by the frugal directors, declaring that nothing but the " best Lord
Mayor's" should thenceforth be put into the company's fires. The
result of this wise economy has been, that the engines on this line
are perpetually smoking in the faces of the passengers, and pouring
forth so lavish a volcanic eruption of " blacks," that by the time the
ladies and gentlemen reach the end of their journey, they are gene-
rally as dark-complexioned as if they had been unconsciously working
or reading by the light of the very best — patent — warranted infumible
— cam])hine lamj)s.

At ^V^orkington, the Sandboys, who, on their arrival, much to the
horror of the cleanly Mrs. S., might have been taken for a family of
Ethiopian serenadei's, having bleached themselves as well as possible
with their pocket handkerchiefs — Mrs. Sandboys standing on tijttoe
the while to wi))e the nasty, filthy blacks from out the wrinkles and
dimples of her dear Cursty's face — jiroceeded to make the necessary
inquiries touching the continuation of their journey to London.

At the station, all was confusion and bustle, and noise and scram-
bling, and bewilderment. Porters in green velveteen jackets, with the
shoulders worn white with repeated loads, were hurrying to and tro—
some with carpet-bags in their hands — others with boxes on .small-
wheeled tnicks, rattling over tiie flooring through the office. Impa-
tient groui)s were gathered close round the pay-clerk — steam-engines,
eager to start, were fizzing violently, as if a thousand knives were
being ground at once — and large bells were ringing (piiekly to
announce the arrival of some train which presently came Immiiing
heavily alongside the station. Mrs. Sandboys liad pursued sumo
])orter who, much to her astonishment and indignation, iiad, without

38 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

a word, walked away with the united luggage of the family, imme-
diately on its beiug deposited outside the station door; while Mr.
Sandboys himself had gone to learn how he and his party were to
proceed.

"Where are you going tof rapidly inquired the good-tempered
and bustling station-master, as he squinted at the clock.

" T' Bull and Mouth, Holborn Hill, London," answered Mr. Cursty
Sandboys, giving the whole address of his proposed resting-place iu
the metropolis.

" Don't know any Bull and Mouth at Holborn Hill," replied the
busy official, who, called off by the guard, had not caught the last word
of Mr. Sandboys' answer.

"Dustea say tha dunnet ken t' Bull an' Mouth," exclaimed the
anxious Cursty, lifting up his bushy eyebrows with evident astonish-
ment. " I thowt aw t' warl was kenning t' Bull an' Mouth, Holbora
Hill."

Mr. Sandboys having, during his first and only visit to London (whither
he had been summoned on a trial concerning the soundness of some
cattle that he had sold to one of the dealers who yearly visited Butter-
mere), resided with the rest of the witnesses for some ten days at the
Bull and Mouth Inn, and knowing that it was a place of considerable
reputation, could not help expressing his surprise that a person filling
a situation which brought him into almost daily comnuinication with the
metropolis, should be unacquainted with one of the most celebrated of
its public inns.

The Workington station-master, however, unfortunately for Mr.
Sandboys, referred to a different quarter of the world. The Holbora
Hill he spoke of, as possessing no Bull and Mouth, was not the well-
known metropolitan acclivity, so tiying to the knees of cab and omnibus-
horses, where coal waggons and railway vans are continually " sticking"
half-way — where " bachelors' kettles" are perpetually being boiled in
less than five minutes, and where sheets of gutta percha, like hard-
bake, and tubing of the same material, like rolls of German sausages,
for ever meet the eye. No ; the Holborn Hill which the Workington
official alluded to was an obscure point of land situate at the extremity
of the county of Cumberland, on the banks of the Duddon, and with
not even so much as a village nearer than half a dozen miles. Well
therefore might the station-master, thinking only of that Holborn
Hill to which the Workington trains daily travelled, make answer to
the poor unsophisticated Mr. Sandboys, that he had never heard of any
Bull and Mouth in that quarter.

" But if you're going to Holborn Hill, sir," he added, squinting at the
clock, " you'd better be quick, for iu another moment the train will
be off"."

"Odswinge! whilk be t' carriages, maul" hastily inquired Mr.
Sandboys, who had been given to understand at Cockermouth that he
should have to remain a good half hour at Workington before he
could proceed on his journey. No sooner was he told where to take his
seat, than hurrying after his wife and children, he dragged them from

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 39

the other side of the platform, whither his '' good hidy"' had followed
her " things,"' and scrambled them, despite all remonstrance, into the
conveyance indicated.

In an instant after their being seated, the terminus resounded with
the slamming of the carriage doors — the large dustman's bell was
shaken — the Avhistle was blown — the engine gave two or three long-
drawn sighs — the carriages creaked with the incipient motion, and
their intermediate chains rattled loudly as they were successively
stretched to their utmost length — a kind of hysteric chuckle from
the engine succeeded, as the wheels slijiped round upon the rails —
then its gasps got shorter and quicker — and then, panting hur-
riedly, the whole train Avas borne rapidly along on its way to
Whitehaven.

In a few minutes Mr. Sandboys began impi'essing upon the partner
of his bosom how fortunate it was that he had taken the precaution
of checking the information that he had received from those mis-
chievous boys at Cockermouth by the statements of the respectable
station-master at Workington. Mrs. Sandboys, however, was in a
reverie concerning the fate of her luggage. She had seen that
impudent fellow of a porter who had seized it and carried it away
from her, place it, she was confident, in the carriages on the other
side of the station, for, as .she said, she had never taken her eyes off it
after the man had set hands upon it.

But llr. Sandboys assured her that she must, in the flurry and tho
noise, have made some mistake, and that she need be under no appre-
hension, for the boxes, being all labelled " London," would be
sure to have been placed in the London train. Mrs. Sandboys, in
reply, however, begged to inform her husband, that the porter had
declared that the other train was going to London; upon which
Mr. Sandboys observed, that surely the station-master must know
better than any one else, and it was from that person's lips he had
received the information upon which he had acted.

In little more than three hours from the time of their leaving
Workington, the railway-train came to a stoppage in front of aa
humble little station, along the platform of which a porter in a north
country dialect, almost as strong as his corduroy suit, went crying,
" Wlia's fwor Hobworn Heen"

" Here !" sh(juted Mr. Sandboys, wondering at the rapidity of tho
journey, as he let down the window of the carriage in which he wan
seated, and stared at the surrounding fields in astonishment at the
extremely rural and uninhabited character of the said Holborn Hill.
It was nothing at all like what it was when he was there, he said,
half to himself; nor could he remember any place in the neighbour-
hood of London in any way similar to the desolate district at which
he and his family were abt)ut to be deposited.

" Haista ony looggiilger' in<[uired the porter.

" Yes, indeed," oljserved Mrs. Sandboys, sidling up to the i)()rter;
" three-an'-twenty packages — three-an'-twenty packages there owt to
be, young man."

40 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

!Mr. Cursty Sandboys l\C]>t twisting round about to try and dis-
cover some object tliat he fould call to mind, and so assure himself of
his presence in the Metropolis. At last, feeling convinced that, from
the apparent absence of houses and people, it nmst be some suburban
station, he ventured to ask the porter, as he and Mrs. Sandboys
accompanied him forward to the luggage-van, how many mimites'
walk he called it to London.

The porter stood still for a moment, looked in the face of Mr.
Sandboys, and then, without saying a word, burst out laughing.

Mr. Sandboys, far from pleased at the man's manner, modified his
«|uestioii, and requested to know how many miles he called it to
London.

" Two hundred an' feafty, if 't be an inch," was the laconic reply.

Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys both heard the answer, and stared trans-
fixed, as if electrified.

Then came the explanation.

It was, as Mrs. Sandboys had dreaded, their boxes, trunks, and bags
had gone in the direction of Holborn Hill, London, while they, poor
unhappy mortals, had been carried some fifty miles out of their road
to Holborn Hill, Cumberland.

There was, moreover, a matter of two pounds to pay for the pro-
voking journey — but it was useless complaining: besides, as Mr.
Sandboys reminded them, they had all come out to enjoy themselves,
and, therefore, notwithstanding the unpleasantness of their position,
he trusted they would one and all inxt a smiling face on the matter.

This, of course, was easier said than done, for on inquiry it was found
that they must remain in that quarter some few hours before any
train would arrive by which they could get back to Carlisle — the way
they had booked themselves to London.

Having, however, found out where they could get some eggs and
bacon cooked, they retired to dine away the time, and were soon so
well pleased with their cheer, that they were able to laugh at their own
mishap.

Mrs. Sandboys, nevertheless, was too intent upon the probable fate
of her luggage to see much to laugh at in the mistake, while Elcy
— whose pet Italian greyhound had been locked up in the canine
department of the London train — could think of nothing but her lost
darling. Her whole study of late had been to fatten the miserable,
shivering, scraggy, half-starved looking little animal upon which she
had placed her affections. All her benevolence, however, had been
wasted on the wretched creature. She had put it into flannel
jackets, but still, to her great annoyance, it was perpetually trembling,
like a " blancmange," or a Lascar beggar. She fed it on the most
nourishing food, for it cut her to the heart to see the dear look such
a mere " bag of bones," but the fat of the land was utterly thrown away
on it. It was impossible by any means to give it the least tendency
to corpulence. Despite all her efforts, its nose continued as sharp as
a bayonet — its legs had no more flesh on them than a bird's — its ribs
were as visible as if its body were built out of wicker-work — while

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 41

its tail was jointed and curled like tlie flexible tube to a dieap
imitation of hookah.

Still there was one consolation : " Psyche" could not well be thinner
— had it been a martyr to tight lacing, its waist could not have been
smaller; but what effect starvation might have upon such an animal,
was more than poor Elcy dare trust herself to conjecture. She felt
convinced in her own mind that the skeleton of the poor dear dumb
thing would be all tliat she should find of it when she reached the
Metropolis.

I^o such thoughts, however, troubled the brain of her brother, who,
what with playing practical jokes upon Postlethwaite — teazing his
sister — coaxing his mother — and exploring the river Duddon, found
plenty to occupy his time.

At length the hour for the arrival of the " up train" at the Holborn-
hill station came round, and in a few minutes after, the family were
being carried swiftly along the road to Carlisle.

It was night when they reached the Car'el station ; but the Sand-
boys, unused to travelling, and tired out with the misadventures of the
day, were all fast locked in sleep. Postlethwaite was the only one
belonging to them whose eyes were open, but he unfortunately was —
what he termed, vdth a natural desire to take the best possible view of
his infirmity — a "little hard of hearing;" so that when the train stopped,
and the porters paced the platform, shouting " Change here for
Lancaster! Change here for London!" not one of the party heard the
important summons ; but, still dozing, were whirled away, in blissful
ignorance, towards the capital of Scotland instead of England.

It was past midnight when the train halted for the collection of
tickets, a little way out of Edinburgh. The letting-down of the car-
riage-window by the railway officer on the platform roused the still
slumbering Mr. Sandboys.

"' Tickets please ! Tickets !" shouted the official, as he turned his
bull's-eye full into the face of the yawning, dazzled, and l^ewildered
Cursty. That gentleman proceeded with as much alacrity as he
could, under the circumstances, to draw out from the bottom of his
purse the several pieces of card-board which had been handed to him
on paying his fare to town.

Tiie collector no sooner glanced his eye at the tickets delivered
to him, than he exclaimed, quickly, " These wont do, sir ! — these here
are for London, and this is Edinburgh."

" Edinburgh !" echoed !Mr. Sandboys, his jaw dropping like a car-
riage dogs at the sound of the word.

"Edinburgh!" repeated Mrs. Sandboys! "Oh, Cursty — Oh,
Cursty, what iver 'uU Ijccome of us aw."

"Edinburgh!" cried Jobby, waking uj). Oh my! here's a lark,
Elcy."

" Yes, sir, it's Edinburgh, sure enougli," returned the railway olfi-
cial. " You should have cliange<l carriages at Carlisle." Then, hold-
ing out his hand to tlie amazed Mr. Sandboys, wlio kept rubbing
Lis eyes to rouse himself out of what he fancied nmst be u continue-

42 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

tion of his dream, the collector added, " Three pound fifteen shillings,
and a quarter-past nine, sir."

" What dustea mean, man, by three paund fifteen shilling, and a
"ivharter-past nine?" angrily inquired Mr. >Sandboys.

" I thought you asked me, what you had to pay, sir, and when the
next train left for London."

"I did nowt of t' kind, man; and I tell tha plain, I wunnet pay
nae mair. I'se paid aboon twa pauuds, an' been carrud twa hunderd
meyle out of t' way awruddy."

But Mr. Sandboys soon found all opposition Avas useless. On his
leaving the carriage, he was taken between two policemen to the
station, and there plainly given to understand, that if the money were
not forthcoming, he would have to finish the night in durance vile;
and though Cursty was ready to become a martyr, rather than submit
to be " imposed upon," still Mrs, Sandboys was of a different way of
thinking, and reminded him of his determination to enjoy himself
under all circumstances.

Mr. Sandboys, after some further expostulation, was prevailed upon
to do as his wife desired ; and accordingly, having paid the three pounds
demanded, he and his family made the best of their way to the nearest
inn, there — " without a thing to put on," as Mrs. Sandboys expressed
it — to slumber away the hours till morning.

At a quarter-past nine the Sandboys family proceeded to make a
third attempt to reach the Metropolis, and for some time nothing
occurred to interfere with the progress of their journey. Mr. Sand-
boys, who, on leaving Edinbvirgh, had been inclined to believe
that the fates had declared he was never to get to London, finding-
matters proceed so propitiously for so long a period, had just begxin
to take a more favourable view of his destiny, Avhen, on their arriving
at Lancaster, a strange gentleman entered the cai-riage, which he and
his wife and children had previously enjoyed all to themselves.

For aAvhile all parties remained silent, — the strange gentleman
being quietly engaged in examining the Sandboys, while the Sand-
boys, one and all, did the same for the strange gentleman ; and truly
the gentleman was so very strange, that the curiosity of his fellow-
travellers was not to be wondered at. The lower part of his face was
mufiled up closely in comforters, his eyes perfectly hidden behind
a pair of green spectacles, while his body was enveloped in a large
Sjianish cloak. On entering he took off his hat, which was one of
the patent Gibus folding kind, and, pressing in the sides — much to
the Sandboys' amazement — brought the crown down to the level of
the brim. He next proceeded to remove the hair from his head, in
the shape of an intensely black wig — disclosing, as he did so, not
a bald, but a closely-shaven crown — and to put a seal-skin cap in its
place. After this, he slid the green spectacles from before his eyes,
carrjing with them the large bushy pair of whiskers which were
fastened to their sides, and which the moment before had half covered
his cheeks; then, discarding his comforters, he vmhooked the clasp
of his cloak, and revealed the black japan leather of a policeman's

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 43

stock, and the tight stand-up collar of a superintendent's undress uni-
form.

As the strange gentleman saw the whole eight eyes of the family
riveted upon him, he smiled good-humouredly at their amazement;
and, turning round to Mr. Sandboys, observed that he perceived they
were from the country. Receiving a short reply in the affirmative, he
told them they needn't be alarmed at his making so different an appear-
ance from when he entered the carriage, for it was part of his business
to assume a variety of characters.

This set the Sandboys wondering more and more at their fellow-
traveller; and the more they marvelled, the more pleased he became,
smiling and simpering with evident self-satisfaction. At last, havmg
kept them on the tenter-hooks for some short time, he informed them
that he belonged to the Metropolitan Detective Police, and proceeded
to give the delighted family a vivid and exciting sketch of his duties.

Impressed as Mr. Sandboys was with the utter wickedness of the
city to which he was now rapidly journeying, this one adventure was
sufficient, in his mind, to atone for all the previous mishaps of the
trip, and he eagerly shifted his seat to that immediately opposite to
the strange gentleman, so that he might get, from one so experienced
in crime, as full an account of the corrupt ways of London as was
possible, in the brief space of time that he and his fellow-traveller
had to remain together.

In a few minutes Mr. Sandboys, with open mouth, eyes, and ears,
was listening to an enumeration of the several descriptions of tliieves
common to the metropolis.

" You must know, sir," said his communicative companion, " there
are almost as many kinds of bad people as there are good in London ;
so that I can hardly tell which Avay to begin. Well, then, let me see," he
continued, "the several descriptions of London thieves are — cracks-
men, or housebreakers ; rampsmcn, or footpads ; bludgcrs and stick-
slingers, or those who go out plundering with women ; star-glazers,
or those who cut out shop-windows ; snoozers, or those who sleep at
railway hotels ; buzzers, or those who pick gentlemen's pockets ; and
wires, or those who do the same kind office for ladies — (and here he
bowed to the alarmed Mrs. Sandboys); thimble-screwers, or those
who AVTench watches from their chains ; dragsmen, or those who rob
carts and coaches; sneaksmen, or those who creep into shops and
down areas; bouncers, or those who plunder by swaggering; i)itchers,
or those who do so by passing off one thing for another; drummers, or
those who do the same by stupifyiug persons with drink ; maccrs, or
those who write begging letters; and lurkers, or those who follow
the profession of begging. These include the principal varieties of
* prigs,' or light-fingered gentry, belonging to the Metropolis, ' said
the strange gentleman.

" (Jd.swiuge !" exclaimed ]\[r. Sandl)oys, but tiie rogues a gotten
comical ueames of their ane. They'd whccr keyud of godfathers,
m'appen."

"Aye, I .shouldn't wonder! I shouldn't wonder!" returned Mr.

44 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

Sandboys' companion. " But many of the classes I've just men-
tioned have several distinct kinds of roguery belonging to them, and
the generality of them seldom or never attend to more than one branch
of the profession. For instance, those who devote their attention to
robbing houses, rarely give their minds to picking pockets.

" Odswinge !" exclaimed the delighted, though intimidated Cursty.

"Then, again, the buzzer, or gentleman's pickpocket, is either the
stook-buzzcr, that is, the purloiner of pocket-handkerchiefs, or the tail-
buzzer, seeking more particularly for sneezers (snuff-boxes), or skins
and dummies, (purses and pocket-books.) Occasionally the same
person may turn his hand to nailing props — that is, stealing pins or
brooches ; but this, 1 can assure you, is not considered professional — any
more than it is for a physician to bleed."

Mr. Sandboys lifted his eyebrows in evident wonderment.

" So, too, the sneaksman," continued his experienced informant, " who
is the lowest-class thief of all — and a creature with whom the cracks-
man and mobsman (or tail-buzzer) would no more dream of asso-
ciating, than a barrister would think of visiting an attorney."

Cursty 's delight increased as the villanies of each particular class
were described to him.

" These same sneaksmen, I must tell you," the chatty and sociable
strange gentleman went on, " comprise many different characters;
among whom I may mention, not only the snoozers or railway sleepers,
as we call them, and the deud-lurkers, or those who steal coats, &c. out
of passages, but also those who go snow-gathering, or stealing clean
linen off the hedges; and bluey -hunting, or pilfering metal — especially
lead from the tops of houses; and cat and kitten-hunting, or abstract-
ing pewter quart and pint-pots from area railings; and sawney-hunt-
ing, or removing bacon from cheesemongers' doors ; and going on the
noisy racket, or purloining crockery and glass from China-shops ; and
the lady and gentlemen racket, or stealing cocks and hens from the
markets ; and bug-hunting, or looking out for drunken men. Belong-
ing to the bouncers and pitchers, or those who cheat you out of your
property instciwl of positively robbing you of it — if you can under-
stand the difference, sir — there are the showful-pitchers, or those Avho
live by passing bad money, and the charley-pitchers, or thimble-
riggers, besides the fawney or ring- droppers; and the flat-catchers, or
those who live by bouncing or besting, that is to say, by getting the
best of country gentlemen, either by threats, swaggering or cheat-
ing."

Here Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys exchanged glaucea of mutual horror.

" Hence you see, sir, there may be strictly said to be only thi*ee
classes of thieves, namely, the cracksman and the rampsman, who
constitute what may be termed the thieves' aristocracy — there being
usually a certain amount of courage required in the execution of their
depredations. Then the tail-buzzers and wires may be said to belong to
the skilled or middle-class of thieves ; while the sneaksmen or lurkers,
Avho display neither dexterity nor bravery in their pecadilloes, may

MR, AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 45

be regarded, with the exceptiou of beggars, as the k)west class of
all."

Mr. Sandboys was charmed to find his theory of the wickedness of
London confirmed by so extensive a catalogue of criminals, and he
<»ot to look upon his informant with a feeling almost amouutmg to
reverence.

" For the pure beggar," continued the strange gentleman, " every
kind of thief has the most profound contempt — even the sneaksmaii
woidd consider himself mortally insulted if placed in the same rank
with the " shallow cove," that is to say, with the creatures that stand,
half naked, begging in the streets. The bouncers, and pitchers, and
fiat-catchers are generally i-anked as a kind of lower middle-class rogues
— and certainly they are often equal, in ingenuity at least, to the
buzzers."

Mr. Sandboys, who had been drinking in every word of the strange
gentleman's discourse with the greatest avidity, proceeded to thank
him at its conclusion very warmly for his most interesting statement.
" Well, I thowt," he said, '' 'twas nae guid that seame London ; but
odswinge if it doan't bang t' Auld Gentleman hissell, that it dui.
Thee'st seed some feyne geames an' wickednesses now in thy tyme, I
suddent wonder."

" Why, yes," replied his companion, " persons in our position have
great opportunities truly. There are more ways of getting money in
Loudon than earning it, I can tell you, sir. Indeed, to say the truth,
industry seems the very mode wdiich succeeds the worst of all there."
" I thowt so ! — I thowt so !" cried Cursty.

" But still, things aren't quite as bad as they used to be either. Why I
remember the days when, regularly every Monday morning, there used
to be a bullock hunt right through the principal streets of London
"•ot up by the prigs — and very profitable it was, too. You see, the
pickpockets would stop the drovers on the road, as they were bringing
their beasts up to Smithficld on the Sunday night — take one of the
animals away from them by main force, \nit him into the first empty
stable they could find, and the next morning set to and worry the
poor brute till they drove him stark raving mad. Then out they used to
turn him into the public thoroughfares — start him right away through
London, and take advantage of the confusion and riot caused by his-
appearance in the crowded streets of the ]\Ietropolis, to knock the
hats of all the gentlemen they met over their eyes, and ease them of
their watches or purses."

"Well! well! well!" cried Mr. Sandboys, throwing up his haiuU
in horror at the profundity of the wickedness ; " Dustea hear, Aggy,"
he continued, turning to his better half, "Dustea hear, weyfe! and
we be gangin' to the varra pleace. J5ut tha wast sayin that t' hvok
beant white so bad now-a-days, sir."

"No! no! not (luite," ohserved Mr.Cursty's companion, " hut still bad
enough, 1 can tell you. Now, I'll just repeat to you a triik i saw
played the other day upon a sin)p!e country gcntlcmiin like yourself.'

4G 1851 ; OK, the adventures of

" Varra guid ! but they wunnet catch mc, I can tell 'ee."

" It's what is called the Toothache Hacket, and far from uncommon.
Two men, you sec, one of Avhom is provided with two small paper
packets of salt exactly alike, go into the parlour of a tavern which
they know countrymen arc in the habit of using. The one with the
salt, who enters some few minutes after the other, pretends to be
suffering greatly from the toothache. The company, observing him
to be apparently in extreme pain, begin to recommend different cures
for the complaint. One advises him to rub the gum with brandy —
another advocates the holding of a little cold water in the mouth — a
third has never known the oil of tobacco to fail, and so on. The
sufferer, however, is much obliged to them all, but declares that
nothing gives himself relief but a little salt, in a paper similar to what
he is then applying to his cheek."

" The wicked hyp'crite !" involuntarily exclaimed the simple-minded
Cursty.

" Shortly after this he quits the room, leaving his paper on the
table. During his absence his "jolly," that is, his accomplice, who,
as I said, came in a little while before the other, begins to laugh at
the idea of some salt, held outside the face, doing any good to the
toothache, and says, of course, it's all the man's imagination. He
then proposes to have a bit of fun with the absent invalid, and pro-
ceeds to empty all the salt out of the paper on the table, and fill its
place with sawdust."

" What's he gangin' to be at," interrupted Mr. Sandboys, deeply
interested in the tale.

" In a few minutes the gentleman with the toothache returns, almost
raving, and he pretends that the cold air has increased his pain to an
intolerable degree. He makes a rush to the paper that he had left behind,
and no sooner applies it to his cheek than he declares the salt gives him
instantaneous relief ; whereupon the Avhole room begin to titter, and
the jolly, or accomplice, as I told you, is well nigh dying with
laughter as he informs the simpleton it's nothing but fancy that's
curing him, and that there's no salt at all in the paper. But ' the
simpleton' declares he knows far better, for he filled it himself out of
the salt-cellar just before he quitted home. The jolly then offers to
wager him a sovereign that there's not so much as a pinch in it, but
the gentleman with the toothache is so certain about the matter,
that he says it will only be robbing a man to take a bet on such a
subject."

" The rwogue's gettin' honest aw of a sudden," cried Mr. S., with a
chuckle.

" At last the rest of the company, finding the gentleman so positive
over the business, get to say they don't mind being robbed on the
same terms, and accordingly agree to bet him a sovereign or a crown
all round, that the paper has no salt in it ; whereupon the gentleman
with the toothache, who has managed during the laughter at his
expense to substitute the other packet from his pocket for the one

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 47

l}ang ou the table, proceeds to unfold the i>aper — exhibits the salt
contained in it to the astonished company, and then robs them — as he
candidly confessed he would — of their money."

Mr. Sandboys had now heard so much, that he began to shudder at
the idea of trusting himself within several miles of such wickedness,
and felt strongly inclined to propose to his wife that they should
return. However, not liking to confess his weakness, he again
thanked his experienced companion, declaring that he considered their
meeting one of the luckiest adventures in his life. What he had
heard, he told him, would at least have the effect of putting him on
his guard, and he would take good care, now he knew the artful ways
of the rogues, that none of the London rascals should have an
opportunity of imposing upon him.

" Now, there's another very common trick practised by the flat-
catchers upon countrpnen in London, with the greatest success," con-
tinued the loquacious strange gentleman. He should just have time
to put Mr. Sandboys up to this, he added, before they reached the
next station, Avhere, he regretted to say, he should be compelled to
leave him and his charming family. He expected, he said, as he
poked Mr. Sandboys in the ribs, and winked his eye at him, to fall
in with a party there whom he had been looking after these many
months, for nailing a prop with a spark in it.

Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys were both extremely sorry to be obliged so
soon to part mth a gentleman from whom they confessed they had
derived so much pleasure and profit.

The strange gentleman bowed, and proceeded with the promised
information. " Well," said he, " as I before observed, one of the most
common and most successful of the flat-catchers' tricks is, to pretend
to put a countryman on his guard against the rogueries of the light-
fingered gentry in town. They will tell him long stories, as to how
the London thieves are taught to practise upon pockets with bells
attached to them, so that they will ring with the least motion ; and
how it really is not safe for any one to walk the streets with even a
sixpence in his possession."

" Now, beant it keynd of the villans, Aggy, eh ?" said Mr. S.,
jocularly, to his better half.

" When they have thus disarmed the chawbacon of all suspicion,
they will begin to show him — as a great secret of course — where they
keep llieir money."

" Nae, will they now!"

" Some will let him see how they've got it stitched in the waistband
of their trowsers, while others will pull theirs from their fob, declaring
they were told by one of the most experienced police-officers that it
was quite as safe, and even safer, there tlian if it were sewed to tlieir
breeclies, provided — and ou this, sir, I would impress upon you that
the trick mainly lies — it is rolled up quite tight, and then slipped into
the watch-pocket edgewise, in a peculiar way. Wiiereupon tliey very
kindly offer to put the country umu's money iu his fob, and to stow

48 1M51 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

it away for Iiim as safely as the experienced police-officer hatl done
theirs."

" Yes, varra keyndly ! varra ! and preynie and seafe they'll staw it
awa', I'll be baund."

" Now, if you'll allow me }our pnrse, sir, for one moment, I'll show
you how the whole affair is managed."

Mr. Sandboys drew forth from the jiocket of his trowsers the little
red cotton bag in which he carried his stock of gold and notes, and
handed it over, as requested, to his fellow-traveller, saying, " Ise varra
'bleeged, I'se sure ; an' how I'll ever pay tha for all thy guidness, I
dunnet ken. Beaut it keynd of t' gentleman, now, Agg}'?"

But that lady made no reply ; she merely watched, with intense
interest, the operations of the strange gentleman.

" You see," said that person, as he took Mr. Sandboys' purse in his
hand, and commenced rolling it backwards and forwards on his knee,
" it's all done by what we call palming. If I intended to deceive
you, now is the time I should do it; for while you fancied I was
reducing the contents of your purse to the smallest possible compass,
I really should be substituting another for it; and then, I should
proceed to place it all safe for you, thus — "

Here the strange gentleman proceeded to lift up the long-waisted
waistcoat of the grateful Mr. Sandboys, and introduced the small
red-cotton bag, in which his money was contained, into his fob; after
which he gave the purse a peculiar twist round, — for in this, he said,
the London rogues made out that the whole virtue consisted. In
reality, however, he told him, there Avas little or nothing at all in
it, and it was only upon the very simplest people that the trick was
ever attempted to be practised now-a-days.

" Well, I sud say as much, for onie mon cud see through t' trick
wi hawf an eye," exclaimed the Buttermere philosopher.

" With such a gentleman as yourself, of course, a man would not
stand the least chance," continued the stranger; " especially after
all I've put you up to; still the trick, common as it is, and
extraordinary as I've not the least doubt it must strike a man of
your discernment that it ever can succeed — still, I say, it has one
thing to recommend it, which is, that the fob is perhaps, after all,
about the most secure place for keeping one's money. In crowds or
lonely places, nothing is more easy than for one man to pinion the arms
behind a gentleman, while another rifles his breeches-pockets ; and as
for carrying either a purse or a j^ocket-book in the coat-tails — why
you might as well invest it in one of King Hudson's railways at
once ! Whereas, in the fob, you see, it takes so long to get at it, that
it is not possible to be extracted in that short space of time in which
street-robberies require to be executed. So, if you take my advice, —
the advice, I think I may say, of a person of no ordinary ex])erience,
— you will continue to keep your purse in your fob as I have
placed it !"

Mr. Sandboys again expressed his deepest gratitude for all the

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 49

valuable Information he bad received, and promised to carry out tbc
injunctions be bad given liim. If ever tbe strange gentleman's busi-
ness sbould lead bini to visit Cumberland — tbougb, ^Ir. C!ursty said
witli a balf laugb, tbere weren't mucb call for tbe likes of bini in tbat
^'wbarter of t' warl" — still, if ever be should be coming towards
Buttermere, be could only say tbere would always be a bed and a
disb of sugar'd cruds and a bearty welcome for bim at Hassness.

Tbe bospitable Cursty bad scarcely tinisbed extracting a pledge
from tbe strange gentleman to come and spend a montb witli bim
at tbe earliest opportunity, Avben tbe pace of tbe carriages began to
slacken, tbe panting of tbc engine ceased, tbe break was beard grating
on tbe wbeels, sending fortb tbat peculiar odour wbicb invariably
precedes tbe stoppage of all railway-trains. Tbe wbistle sounded —
and amidst tbe ringing of bells, tbe tSandboys and tbeir companion
reacbed tbe Preston station.

Here tbe strange gentleman baving slipped on again tbe several
articles of disguise witb wbicb be bad dispensed on entering, sbook Mr.
and ilrs. Cursty violently by tbe bands, and promising to call and see
tliem some time or otber, be made an extremely low bow to tbe ladies,
and in a few minutes was lost in tbe crowd.

On bis departure tbe conversation of Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys related
solely to tbe agreeable manner and vast experience of tbeir late com-
panion. Cursty's entbusiasm knew no bounds. His darling Aggy,
however, was a little more circumspect in bcr praise, and did not
besitate to confess — tbat tbere was sometbing about t' gentleman
sbe didn't balf like — sbe couldn't exactly tell wbat; but tbere was
sometbing so peculiar in bis manner, tbat for ber part, sbe was not quite
so mucb taken witb bim. He was a very pleasant, agreeable man
enougb, but still — sbe could not say wby — all sbe knew was — sbe did
not like bim. And tben, as tbe discussion on tbeir late companions
merits rose ratber bigb, sbe begged ber busband to inark ber words,
for sbe felt convinced in ber mind — indeed, sbe bad a certain kind
oi a presentiment — a strange kind of a feeling tbat sbe couldn't
describe — and it was no use Cursty's talking — but ber imj)ression
was — and sbe boped Mr. Sandljoys would bear it well in niintl — tbat
tbey sbould bear of tbat gentleman again some tine day; and tbat
was all sbe wisbed to say about tbe matter.

"Witb tbis sligbt discussion to enliven tbe tedium of tbc journey,
tbc distance between Preston and Mancbester ])assed so (piickly, tbat
wlien tbc collector at tbe ^lancbester station called for tbe tickets,
Mr. Sandboys could not belj) expressing bis astonisjnnent at tbe rapi-
dity of tbeir travelling.

" Xow, sir, if you please — quick as you can — sbow your tickets; —
tickets — tickets."

Mr. Sandboys instinctively tbrust bis band to tbe bottom of liis
trowscrs' pocket, but tiien, remendjerlng tbat tbe red cotton bug in
wbicb Ik- bud securely deposite<l tbc j.rccious vouchers liad been
sliiftcd to bis fob, he began a vain attempt to llsb up Lis luouty-bug,

E

50 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

from the depths of the narrow little tube of a watch-pocket in which
the strange gentleman had so kindly inserted it.

" Xow, sir, if you please I " again shouted the impatient collector.
" Noiv, sir !"

But the more impatient the man became, the more nervous grew
Mr. Sandboys, and though he worked his fore-finger round and round,
he could not, for the life of him, lay hold of the desired red cotton
receptacle.

At length, with the united aid of Mrs. Sandboys and the collector,
the fob was emptied of its contents, and then, to Cursty's great terror,
it was discovered that the strange gentleman, and assumed member of
the Detective Police Force, had practised upon the unsophisticated
native of Butt.ermere the very trick against which he was pretending
to put him on his g-uard. The purse was to all outward appearances
the same — the intei'ior, however, consisted of a congregation of whist
counters and Bank of Elegance notes.

The mere possession of such articles was in itself suspicioiis, but
coupled with the absence of all tickets on the part of the Sand]:»o}s
family, the circumstance appeared to assume so dishonest a character,
that the collector made no more ado but called a policeman and gave
the whole family into custody; saying, they had neither tickets nor
money in their possession, and that he found on the old one a whole
purseful of sham notes and sovereigns ; and that he had not the
least doubt it was a deep laid scheme on his part to defraud the
Company.

Mr. Sandboys raved, and Mrs Sandboys wept; Miss Sandboys
intreated, while wicked Master Jobby could hardly contain himself
for laughter.

The united battery of the family, however, proved of no avail, and
the whole six of them, including Postlethwaite and Ann Lightfoot,
were dragged off to the Town Hall, there to give some account of
themselves, and urge every reason in their power why they should
not, one and all, be committed as rogues and vagabonds, for a mouth,
with hard labour, to the New Bailey.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOVS. 51

CHAPTER V.

" Hout, man! wliat signifies repeynin',
Owr graukiu', snifternu', twistiu', tweyniii',
If down leyfe's bill we be decleyniu',

We cannot slaok,
Then gang on decent without wheynin",

Or hiugin' back.
Leyfe, mak' the best ou't 's nowght owr pleesiu',
As every day some fash comes teasiu',
An' oft eneugh the wheels want greesiu'

To keep them ga'un,
Then bronce about nor tek sec preesin'

To nate our awn."

The New Yeav''s Epistle.

" There's sic a gang in our town.
The deevil cannot wrang them.
And cud yen gat "era put i' preut
Aw England cuddeut bang them.

**<•*♦

Cheat who cheat can's the common rule,

Fwoaks a' cheat yen anither ;
For be that's nowther kneave or fnol,

God seake I what brought him hither."

Mr. Sandboys, when he had time for reflection, began to see that
he was very unpleasantly situated. The circumstances against him,
he was obliged to confess, when he came to review them judicially,
did look particularly black.

In the first place, as he said to himself, he had not only been de-
tected travelling without a ticket, and without money; but, what he
felt was equally suspicious, without so much as a box, bag, or parcel
among the whole half-dozen members of his family. If he accounted
for the possession of the counterfeit coin and notes by declaring that
he had been imposed upon, still, how was he satisfactorily to explain
to any unprejudiced mind that combination of misclianccs that had
deprived him of his luggage 1

Tlien, supposing, he went on arguing with himself, he could suffi-
ciently prove his iimoccnce to the authorities, to induce them to
abandon the charge against him, what was to become of him'# — in a
strange town, without a friend, without a shilling — or witliout a
change of linen for himself or any of the miserable members of the
wretched family that looked up to him for protection.

If he escaped the ]>risou, there was nothing that he could see left
for him but the workhouse; and, unsophisticated as he was, still ho
was man of the Avorld enough to know that the workhouse was much
the worse of the two.

"Waistoinea! Waistoniea 1 " he inwardly ejaculated, as he tliought
of Ilia many troubles.

e2

62 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

To enliven the terrors of his position, Mrs. Sandboys obliged him, on
the road to the Police-office, by now sketching an imaginary picture of
the whole family at work on tlie treadmill, and now painting in the
darkest colours portraits of herself, Eley, and Ann Lightfoot in the
female ward of the union, ])icking oakum, and Cursty, Jobby, and
deaf Postlethwaite, in the yard of the same Avretched establishment,
engaged in the gentlemanly occupation of cracking stones.

The only hope, she gave him to understand very plainly, that she
could see for them was, to get the parish to pass them to their own
county; and then, in the depths of her misery, she wished to " guiduess"
they had remained contented at Buttermere, and never made up their
minds to enjoy themselves.

P)ut no sooner had the entire six been crammed into the dock at
the Police-office, and the Inspector cast his eyes towards the chief
prisoner, than, suddenly recognising him as a fellow countryman,
lie asked him whether he remembered one Johnny Wren, who had
left Buttermere some ten years before, and " listed" in the Life
Guards.

This was a piece of good fortune Avhich ]\Ir. Sandboys, seeing how
uncivilly the fates had lately treated him, was in no Avay prepared for ;
however, Johnny soon removed his fellow-countryman from the dock
to a seat by his side; and when he had listened to the series of
misadventures that had befallen his old friend, he begged of him not
to worry himself any further about his troubles, as he had a few
pounds by him, and should be most happy to place the money at his
service.

When this bit of good luck had dispelled all the melancholy of
the family, Johnny himself proceeded to tell Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys
how, after 'listing in the Guards, he had received an injury Avhile
riding, and how he had then been presented Avith a berth in the
London Police, whence he had been promoted to the post he at
l)resent filled in Manchester.

In a short time Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys had in a measure forgotten
all their previous troubles and distresses, in the kindness and hospi-
tality of Inspector Wren.

After partaking of such fare as his establishment afforded, Mr.
Sandboys proceeded, under the guidance of the Inspector, to take a
glance round the town.

Mancliester at any time is, perhaj s, one of the peculiar sights that
this country affords.

To see the city of factories in all its bustle and all its life, Avith
its forests of tall chimneys, like huge masts of brick, Avith long black
flags of smoke streaming from their tops, is to look upon one of those
scenes of giant industry that England alone can show. As you pace
its busy streets, you hear the drone of a thousand steam-engines,
humming in the ears like a hive. As you sit in your home, you feel
the fi(K)r tremble Avith the motion of the vast machinery, Avhirling on
every side.

Here the buildings are monstrous square masses of brick, pierced

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 53

with a hundred -windows, while white wreaths of steam pufF fitfully
through their walls. Many a narrow thoroughfare is dark and
sunless with the tall warehouses that rise up like bricken clifts oa
either side. The streets swarm with carts and railway-vans, with
drivers perched high in the air, and " lurrys" — some piled with
fat round bags of wool, othei'S laden with hard square stony-
looking blocks of cotton, and others filled with many a folded piece
of unbleached woven cloth. Green covered vans, like huge chests on
wheels, rattle past, — the bright zinc plates at their sides, telling that
they are hurrying with goods to or from some " calender," " dyer," or
" finisher."

At one door stands a truck laden with red rows of copper cylinders,
cut deep with patterns. This basement or kitchen is transformed,
into the showroom of some warehouseman, and as you look down the
steps into the subterranean shop, you can see that in front of where
the kitchen range should stand, a counter extends, spread with bright-
coloured velveteens, while the place of the dresser is taken up with
shelves, filled with sho^^y cotton prints. The door-posts of every
warehouse arc inscribed with long catalogues of names, like those
of the Metropolitan Inns of Court; and along the front of the tall
buildings, between the ditierent fioors, run huge black boards, gilt with
the title of some merchant firm.

Along the pavement walk bonnetless women, with shawls drawn
over their heads, and their hair and clothes spotted with white flufts
of cotton. In the pathway, and at the corners of the i)rincipal
streets, stand groups of merchants and manufacturers — all with their
hands in their pockets — some buried in their coat-tails — others plunged
deep in their breeches, and rattling the money — and each busy
trafficking with his neighbour. Beside the kerb-stones loiter bright-
coloured omnibuses, the tired horses with their heads hanging low
down, and their trembling knees l>ulging forward — and with the
drab-coated and big-buttoned driver loitering by their side, and ready
to convey the merchants to their suburban homes.

Go which way you will, the whistle of some arriving or departing
railway-train shrieks shrilly in the ears; and at the first break of
morning, a thousand factory bells ring out the daily summons to
work — and then, as the shades of night fall upon the town, the many
windows of the huge mills and warehouses shine like plates of burnished
gold with the myriads of lights within. The streets, streaming mth
children g<Mng to or coming from their toil, arc black Avith the moving
columns of busy little things, like the paths to an ants' nest.

Within the factories, tiie clatter and whirr of incalculable wheels stuns
and bewilders the mind. Here, in long low rooms, are vistas of curd-
ing-cngines, some disgorging thick sheets of white, soft-looking wad-
ding, and others jjouring fcjrth endless fiuHy ropes of cotton into tall tiu
cylinders; while over-head are wheels, with their rims worn bright,
and Inroad black straps descending from them on every side, with their
buckles running rapidly round, anil making the strang(;r shrink an he
I)a««e8 between theni. On the floors above are nmles after nmle.s, with

54 18ol; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

long lines of white cops, twirling so fast that their forms are all blurred
together; while the barefooted artisan between draws out the slender
threads as from the bowels of a thousand spiders. Then too there are
floors crowded with looms all at work, tramping like an army, and
busy weaving the shirts and gowns of the entire world, and making
the stranger wonder how, with the myriads of bales of cotton that are
here spun, and with the m^Tiads of yards of cotton that are here
woven, there can be one bare back to be found among the whole
human famil3^

But Manchester, at the time of Mr. Sandboy's visit, was not the
Manchester of every-day life.

The black smoke no longer streamed from the tall chimneys of its
factories — the sky above was no longer swarthy, as if grimed with the
endless labour of the town, but clear, and without a cloud. Not a
cart, nor a A-an, nor a railway wagon, nor a lurry, broke the still-
ness of the streets, and the tramp of the policeman on his rounds
was alone to be heard. The mills were all hushed — the fires were
out — the engines were motionless — not a wheel whirred — not a loom
clacked — not a cop twirled, within them. The workers, young and
old, had all gone to take their share in England's holiday. To walk
through the work-rooms that a little while ago had trembled and
clattered with the stir of their many machines, impressed the mind
with the same sense of desolation as a theatre seen by daylight. The
mice, startled at the strange sound of a footstep, scampered from out
the heaps of cotton that lay upon the floor, and spiders had already
begun to spin their webs in the unused shuttles of the looms. At
night, the many windows of the mills and warehouses no longer
shimmered, like gold, with the lights within, but glittered, like plates
of silver, with the moon-rays shining on them from without. The
doors of the huge warehouses were all closed, and the steps grown
green from long disuse. Not a cab stood in front of the infirmary —
not a vehicle loitered beside the pavement in Market-street.

In the morning, not a factory bell was to be heard; nor a "bus" to
be seen bringing from the suburbs its crowds of merchants piled on
the roof and packed on the splash-board in front of the coachman. Not
a milkman dragged through the streets his huge tin can suspended on
wheels ; nor was a scavenger, with his long loose blue woollen shirt
and round-crowned hat, to be met with.

On Saturday night, the thoroughfares clattered not with the tread
of the thousands of heavy-booted operatives on the pavement; not a
grocer's shop was brilliant with the ground-glass globes of its many
lamps ; not a linendraper's window was stuck over with bills telling of
another " Tremendous Failure " or " Awful Sacrifice !"

In Smithfield, there was neither light nor sound. The glossy
crockery and glittering glass no longer was strewn upon the ground,
and no impatient dealer was there jingling his cups and tumblers,
and rattling his basins to bring the customers to his stand.
The covered sheds, spread with bright-coloured handkerchiefs and
muslin, and hung with long streamers of lace, had all disappeared;

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 55

the lono- narrow alleys of old-clothes stalls, decked with washed-out
o-owns and bro^vn stays, and yellow petticoats and limp bonnets, were
o-one ; the old-boots stalls, bright with the highly-polished shoe, were
nowhere A^sible; nor the black hardware, nor the white wicker-
baskets, nor the dangling hairy brooms, nor the glass cases glittering
with showy jewellery. The booth-like cook-shops were shut up, and
not a boy was to be seen within them enjoying his cheap basin of
steaming soup or plate of smoking pie ; and the sheets of tripe, like
bundles°of shammy leather, and the cow-heels, white and soddened,
like washerwomen's hands, had disappeared from the stalls.

In Victoria Market the oranges were no longer to be seen piled up
in pyramids, and glittering like balls of gold against their; white-
papered shelves. Not a sound of music was to be heard in any of the
harmonic taverns. The piano of "The Hen and Chickens" was hushed.
The fiddle and violoncello sounded not in " The Cotton Tree." At
Ben Lang's the lights were all out, and the galleries empty— not a
seriously-comic song, nor comically-serious ditty disturbed the silence
of the " Saloon."

The shutters of the Exchange, too, were closed — none sat at the
tables, or stood at the desks scanning the papers. At Milner's,
the patent iron safe that, laden with gold, had stood the attack
of twenty desperate robbers, was hidden for a time by the shut-
ters. Barton the stationer had eloped to London with his Love.
Nathaniel Gould and his brother from London had both returned to
the metroj)oIis to see the Exhibition, and his mother. Binyons and
Hunter had given over desiccating their coffee, and had gone to air
themselves instead, in the metropolis. At Crowther's Hotel, the
pretty barmaid was no longer to be seen, for " The Angel" had retired
to London. At the Commercial Dining Rooms, Bell's joints had
ceased to be hot from twelve till three, for he, like the rest, had gone,
legs and shoulders and all, to the Great Exhibition; while Mrs. Ja.
Stewart, (" professed cook,") no longer recommended those gentlemen
•who wanted a relish to try her chops. Mrs. Lalor, having exhausted
"her winter supply of fancy shirts, braces, cravats, *tc.," had availed
herself of the opportunity of seeing the Exhibition to provide
herself with a summer stock. Mr. Albert, the dentist, of George-
street, whose " artificial teeth, he assures us, are such perfect imita-
tions of nature, that it is confidently predicted they will speedily
supersede every other kind,"'' had started for the metropolis, leaving
his incorrodible teeth behind him ; and J. Casper, the tailor, of
Market-street, having " invented a cloth with two distinct faces, which
may be worn on cither side, and suitable for trowsers," as well as
c<jats and vests, had turned his coat like the very best " double-faced,"
and gone up in a pair of his own patent pantaloons, with the iutcntioa
of using the outsides for week days, and the iiisidcs for Sundays. At
the City Mourning Establishment, the young ladies of the slK)p had
given over sorrowing for the deceased friends of their customers, and,
substituting lively pink glaccs for their sombre bomba/.ins, had sud-
denly cliangcd, like lobsters, from black to red, and gone up with the

56 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

chief mourner of '• the estahlishmcnt," detei-mlned to have a few weeks'
pleasure, like the rest of the world; Avhile Beddoe, of the opposition
depot for grief, had, " in consequence of the mildness of the season,"'
(coupled with its general healthiness) " not only reduced all his
stock of the previous winter's weeds and weepers, but finding the
mortality much below the usual average, had put up the black
shutters of his shop, and affixed a hatchment, with the motto of
''Resurgam," over his door, as a notice that he would turn up again
shortly.

Not a shop but had some announcement pasted on the shutters. In
the principal thoroughfares chickens scratched at the unremoved dust,
while the croAving of rival cocks sounded shrill in the silent streets.
Corpulent old ducks waddled along the kerb-stones to bathe themselves-
in the gutter. In Market-street the grass was already beginning to
sprout between the stones. The cats, left to take care of themselves,
wandered about as thin as French pigs, and lay in wait for the birds,
that no longer scared by the noise, now began to flock and twitter
loudly in every thoroughfare. In the People's Parks, pigs roamed
among the flowers, while geese and donkeys nibbled at the grass.

There was, however, one quarter of the deserted town where the
people were not holiday-making, but still labouring — for what was
to them, indeed, dear life — one district where the toil knew no
cessation — where the workmen had no money to spend on pleasure,
getting barely enough — slave as they might — to keep soul and body
together.

Round about the wretched purlieus of Rochdale-road the clicking of
the shuttles of the handloom weavers might still be heard. Early,
long before the light, and long after the dark, the weaver's dim lamp
might be seen in the attic or cellar, and where some five-and-
twenty were styed together under one wretched roof, Mr. Sandboys
was led by Inspector Johnny Wren.

At the top of the house he found the rooms crowded with crazy
old looms, so that it was scarcely possible to move between — and here,
wdth beds of sacks of straw, and nothing but their own rags to cover
them by ni^'-ht, were a band of grim, hollow-cheeked, and half-starved
men, toiling away for a crust — and nothing more.

Mr. Sandboys started back in horror as he looked at the pinched
faces and gaunt figures of the workers. He asked why they were not,
like the rest of the town, at the Exhibition of the Industry of all
Nations.

" Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughed out one with a week's beard on his chin —
" last Aveek I earnt three and ninepence, and this week I shall have
o'ot two and a penny. Exhibition of Industry ! let them as wants to
see the use of industry in this country come and see this here exhi-
bition."

" I warrant it'll beat all nations hollow," cried another.

And then the man laughed again, and so did all his fellow-workers,
in a grim, empty-bellied chorus,

Mr. Sandboys grew somewhat alarmed at the man's manner, and

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 57

not finding much gratification in the contemplation of miser}- that he
knew it was out of his power to mitigate, beckoned Inspector Wren
away, and made the best of his road back to tlie house of his fellow-
countryman.

Mrs. Sandboys had been anxiously awaiting his return for some
time. During the absence of Cursty, she had half made up her
mind to return to Hassness; and would have decided upon doing so
immediately had it not been for the loss of the luggage.

Mr. Sandboys, however, now that he liad Avholly forgotten his late
troubles, was in no way desirous of giving way to what appeared to
be simply a small concatenation of adverse circumstances. Besides,
now that he saw matters were taking a more propitious turn, he began
to feel all his heroism returning; and having made up his mind to
enjoy himself for a short period in the metropolis, why he would not
allow it ever to be said that he was weak enough to be wrested from
his purpose by a few mishaps.

His darling Aggy, however, thought far less of the heroism than
she did of her boxes; and seeing the imminent peril in which she
stood of being deprived of the entire three-and-twenty packages
which contained the family linen and all their best clothes, besides a
sufficiency of notes to cover, as she and Cursty had calculated, all their
expenses in town, why she agreed with her lord and master that,
under all circumstances, it might perhaps be advisable to avail them-
selves of the kind ofter of JNIr. .Johnny Wren to advance them money
enough to carry them on until they could obtain tlieir boxes from the
railway station.

Mr. Sandboys, being of the same opinion, consulted privately with
his friend .Johnny Wren as to the amount he could conveniently spare
them ; and all the money-matters having been satisfactorily arranged,
the Sandboys family started once more on their journey, determined
tliis time, at least, to enjoy themselves.

58 1851 ; OR, the adventcres of

CHAPTER VI.

" Now fifty sliwort years ha'e flown owre us,
Sin' first we fell in at the fair,
I've monie a. teyme thowt, wi' new pleasure,

Nae weyfe cud wi' Aggy compare ;
Tho' thy nwose has gi'eu way to the wrinkle,

At changes we munna complain ;
They're rich whea in age are leet hearted,
An' mourn nit for days that are geane."

The Days that are geane.

" We us'd to go to bed at dark,
And ruse agean at four or five ;
The mworu's the only teyme for wark,
If fwok are hilthy and wou'd thrive.
Now we git up — nay, God kens when !

And nuiu's owre suin for us to deyne;
I's hungry or the pot's half boiled,
And wish for teyraes leyke auld lang seyne."

Lang Seync.

At length tlie Sandboys reached the ]\Ietropolis, Avithout any further
misadventure than being informed, on their arrival, that there was not
a bed to be had Avithin five miles for love or money.

On reaching the Bull and INIouth, to their great astonishment they
found a large placard exhibited, inscribed with the following terrible
announcement —

" The beds here are quite full."

Mr. Sandboys, however, was not to be deterred ; and, entering the
•establishment, he sought for some one whose face he might remember
having seen on his previous visit. The head waiter no sooner entered
the coffee-room in answer to his summons, than he recognised the
face of the old attendant, and besought him to recommend him to
some place where he might obtain a bed for a night or two at the
least.

The only place that the waiter knew, as promising the remotest
chance of accommodation, was at the residence of a lady who, he Avas
informed, had been recently extending the conveniences of her esta-
blishment; and then, handing to Mr. Sandboys the lodging-house-
keeper's address, he whisked his napkin under his arm, and, pulling
his front hair, departed with all the elegance of a head-Avaiter at an
old-fashioned establishment.

Arrived at the residence of the lady indicated by the gentleman
who superintended the supply of provisions to the inmates of the
Bull and Mouth, Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys Avere asked to step into the
passage (the lady apologizing for the parlours being both full), and
there Mrs. Fokesell, whose husband, she Avas happy to say, Avas at sea,
informed them, to their great horror, that she had only one hammock left
unoccupied ; and if the lady and gentleman thought they could make

I

A

J.

La.

LJti, ir^Nii

MR. AND MES, CQRSTY SANDBOYS. 59

sliift in that until such time as they could meet with anything- better,
■why it was at their service for five shillings a night. The young lady and
the female servant Mrs. Fokesell might perhaps accommodate in her
bed, and if the footman wouldn't mind lying on the knife-board, and
the young gentleman thought he could pass the night comfortably on
the top of the grand piano, why she Avould do everything in her power
to make them comfortable.

Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys said that, under the circumstances, they
must consent to avail themselves of Avhatever they couhl get ; where-
upon the landlady politely informed them, that if they would follow
her do^vu stairs, she would show them the only apartment she had to
spare.

But, as she was about to descend, a loud single knock was given at
the street door, and, begging their indulgence for a minute, she
returned to the passage to ascertain the business of the new-comer.
On answering the knock, she found that it was merely the coal-mer-
chant, who wished to be informed when she would like to have iu
" them there coals as she ordered."

Mrs. Fokesell hastily told the man, that if they weren't delivered
^the first thing iu the morning, there wouldn't be a bit of fire to " bile
the dozen pots of shaving-water as was wanted by eight o'clock for
her lodgers."

On closing the door, and rejoining Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys, who still
stood on the top of the kitchen stairs, ^Irs. Fokesell led the way
to the basement, and, opening the kitchen door, stepped across the
area. Stopping in front of one of the two doors that led to what
the landlady was pleased to dignify by the name of a humble apart-
ment on the basement floor, she unfastened the padlock, and revealed
the interior of a cellar, from the arched roof of which was slung a
sailor's hammock, while on the floor was spread a small square of
dingy carpet. In one corner, on top of a beer-barrel, stood an appa-
ratus that did duty for a toilet-table. Against the whitewashed wall
hung a small sixpenny shaving-glass ; while, immediately beneath it,
there was j)Iaced a dilapidated chair.

Mrs. Sandboys, wdio until that moment had never set eyes on that
peculiar kind of naval contrivance for obtaining a night's rest under
diflicultics, could not refrain from expressing her firm conviction that
it was utterly impossible for any woman of her size to deposit herself
safely in the interior of that thiug, -which people were pleased to call
a. bed.

Mrs. Fokesell, however, begged to assure her that she had passed
many — many very pleasant nights in that very hannnock, and with
the aid of the trestle which she had placed on the floor, and an
assisting hand from her husband, she was sure the lad}' would 1)C
able to manage very well.

Mr. Sandboys liimself was anything but jihased witli the annnge-
ments of the proposed dormitory, and, secretly in liis own mind, ho
was inquiring of himself how, when he had lent the said assisting
liand to his better half, and safely lodged her within the depths of tho

60 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

suspended hammock, he himself was ever to join her there, for who,
he wanted to know, was there to perform the same kind office for
him?

However, even if they had to take the bed down, and spread it on
the carpet, it would, thought Mr, Sandboys, be far preferable to none
at all, so he told Mrs. Fokesell that he and his good lady would avail
themselves of the accommodation, at least for that one night.

"It's all I have, ma'am," said the landlady; "I have just let the
last tent on the tiles to a foreign nobleman, and seven shillings a
night is what I has from him. I assure you it's a fact, ma'am.
There is not a foot in a respectable house that is not worth its length
in sovereigns, ma'am. Why, if you'll believe me, ma'am, there's my
next-door neighbour, she's put a feather bed into her Avarm bath, and
let it off to a young East Injun at a guinea a week, for a month
certain.

Mr. Sandboys, exhausted with his journey, made no more ado, but
closed the bargain with Mrs. Fokesell ; and, having partaken of some
fried chops, by way of supper, in the kitchen, he and his beloved
Aggy withdrew to the privacy of the cellar which was to constitute
their bed-chamber for the night.

After a brief consultation, it was agreed that, to prevent all chance
of taking cold in so damp a dormitory, they should retire to rest in
their clothes; and Mrs. Sandboys having disengaged herself of her
hood and cloak, prepared to make the perilous ascent.

By the aid of her Cursty's hand she mounted the little trestle of
the beer-barrel, which she previously placed immediately under the
hammock, and then, turning her back towartls the suspended bed she
managed, with a slight jump, to seat herself on the extreme edge of
the sacking. Her figure, however, being rather corpulent, the weight
of her whole body no sooner rested on one side of the oscillating
couch, than the whole apparatus slid from under her, and she was
suddenly plunged down on to the corner of the temporary toilet-table.
Fortunately for the good lady, the top of the artificial wash-hand-
stand consisted of a board merely laid across the head of a barrel ; so
that immediately she touched the ricketty arrangement, the board,
basin, and pitcher were all tilted forward, and the entire contents of
the water-jug emptied full into her face, as she fell to the ground.

What with the crash of the crockery, the splashing of the water,
and the bumping of poor dear Mrs. Sandboys on the carpet, Cursty
was almost paralyzed with fright. He was afraid even to raise his
darling Aggy from the ground, for he felt that something serious
must have happened to her.

But Mrs. Sandboys luckily was sound in her bones, though severely
bruised in her flesh; and as Cursty helped her up from the floor,
she shook the water from her hair, and vowed that she would rather
sleep on the carpet all night than make another attempt to enter that
nasty, deceitful, swinging, unsteady thing of a bed.

Mr. Sandboys used all the endearing arts of which he was
master to induce the partner of his bosom to make a second attempt.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 01

but his entreaties were in vain ; for Mrs. Sandboys, whose body
still tingled with the failure of her previous essay, was in no way
inclined to listen to his solicitations.

But the persevering Curst}' pleaded so hard that at last lie got her
to consent, that provided he would tirst get into the hammock him-
self, and would lift her into it after him, she wouldn't mind obliging
him in that way — for she could see no other plan by which she was
ever to be safely deposited within it.

Accordingly, Mr. Sandboys, when, after a few unsuccessful but harm-
less endeavours, he had managed to get his entire body fairly into the
sailor's bed, leant over the side in order to assist his better-half to join
him within it. But on his putting out his arms to lift the lady up to
the required height, the delusive, bendable bedstead turned inside out,
and shot him, niattrass, blankets, and counterpane, together with his
Aggy, plump on to the ground.

The fall shook Mr. Sandboys almost as much as when the pig had
laid on his back in the brook, and it was long before he could bring
himself even to propose to his Avife to make another attempt to enter
the wretched wabbling, swingy substitute for the substantial security
of a four-post.

At length Mrs. Sandboys, who two or three times had just
saved herself from falling almost flat on her nose while dozing in the
dilapidated chair, began to be faii'ly tired out; and Cursty, who had
sat on the top of the beer-barrel till his legs were nearly cut through
with the sharp edge of the hoop, found that it was impossible to con-
tinue his slumbers in so inconvenient a posture, so he took his fat and
dozing little wife in his arms, and standing once more on the trestle,
fairly lifted her into the hammock ; after wliich, seizing the chain that
Imng from the iron plate in the pavement above, he with one despe-
rate bound swung himself by her side into the hammock.

lu a few minutes tliey were both fast locked in slumber; Init
Cursty's repose was destined to be of short duration; for soon
Mrs. Sandboys, shaking him violently, roused him from his rest.

" Up withee ! — up wi'thee ! thar be summet bcastes a-crawHng
ower my face, Cursty. Ah, these Lon'on beds ! AN'e'll be beath
yeeten up, aleyve, if thee staps here, Cursty !"

And so saying, she gave her lord and master so stout a thrust in
his back, that drove his weight to the edge of the hammock, and again
brought him rapidly to the Hoor.

Mrs. Sandboys in her fright soon followed her husband; and then
nothing would satisfy her but she must have the whole of the bedding
and clothes turned out on the ground, and miimtely examined by
the light of the ru.shlight.

But Mr. Sandboys, already deprived of the half of his night's rest,
was in no way fit f<jr the performance desired by his wife; and, in
order to satisfy her <iualms, he projtoscd that the mattrass ubnic
should be replaced in the liammock, and tkra she need have no fear.

Mrs. Sandboys was herself in no humour to bold out against so
ai)parcntly rational a proposal; and, having couscnled tj tlic cuiujiru-

62 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

mise, there began the same series of arduous aud ahnost perilous ■
struggles to ensconce their two selves once more in the interior of the
liammock.

After several heavy tumbles on both sides, and breaking the rusty
iron chain which served to hold down the circular trap in the pave-
ment above, the Avorthy couple did ultimately manage to succeed
again in their courageous undertaking; and then, fairly exhausted
with their labours, they closed their eyes just as the blue light of day
was showing through the cracks of the coal-cellar door.

The Cumberland couple had continued their rest undisturbed some
few hours, when ^Irs. Sandboys was aroused by hearing the circular
iron trap moved above her head. She woke her husband with a
"\dolent shake, telling him, as soon as she could make him understand,
that she was sure some of her friends, the London thieves, were pre-
paring to make a descent through the pavement into their subterra-
nean bed-chamber.

Mr. Sandboys was no sooner got to comprehend the cause of her
alarm, than he saw the end of the chain lifted up, and the trap re-
moved from the pavement above them.

Instinctively the couple rose up in their bed, and leant their heads
forward to ascertain the precise nature of the impending danger.
Suddenly they were startled by a gruff voice from above, shouting
" Bee-elow," and immediately there descended through the round hole
at the top of the cellar a shower of large and small coals, the noise
of which completely drowned their cries, and beneath which they
were almost buried alive.

Before they could extricate themselves from the black mass, that
nearly filled their hammock, a second shower of Walls' End was
poured down upon them ; and had it not been for the landlady observ-
ing from the kitchen that the coal-porter Avas about to shoot the half
ton she had ordered on the previous evening to be delivered early that
morning into Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys' hammock, that worthy couple
assuredly must have perished in the dusty, grimy avalanche.

Mrs. Fokesell rushed into the area, cried out loudly to the man to
hold back the third sack, which he had just poised over the hole on
his shoulder, pre^aous to discharging its contents on the bodies of the
unliappy Sandboys, and tearing open the door, deliA'ered the blackened
and the bruised couple from the perils of their wretched situation.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. G5

CHAPTEK VII.

" But if we wnllent be content
Wi' til' blessings sec as lieav'n has sent,
But obstinately wad prevent

Wise fate's decree,
Sec fwoak mun just pursue tbe bent

I' their own bree.

" What if tbe hand of fate, unldnd,
Has us'd fremtly, need we peyne ?
Tho' you've lost your sight an' me meyne.
We cannot mend it.
Let us be glad the powers deveyne

Nae war' extendit.

" Let us — sen leyfe is but a span —
Still be as canty as we can,
Eememb'ring Heaven lias ordered Man

To practise patience,
An' not to murmur 'neath his linn',

Leyke feckless gations."

John Stagg.

Now, it SO happened, that in the house where the Sandboys had
taken up their residence, there was located on the second floor one of
those malades hnaghiaires, in a white robe-de-chambre, who are so
2)opular and pretty at the present day.

Mrs. Llanchc Qiunine certainly dressed the part of the invalid to
tlie life — or, rather, to the death. Eobed from head to foot in the
purest white, she managed to look extremely well and ill at one and
the same time. She was got up with the greatest possible regard to
medical effect; for, although Mrs. Quinine was naturally a plump and
strong-built Avoman, she was costumed so artistically, and looked, as
she languished on the couch, so perilously delicate, that one could not
help fancying but that, with the least shock or jar to her nerves,
every bone in her body would fall asunder, like the skeleton in the
Fantoccini, at the sudden "bomb" of the drum.

Her complexion — which could not ha>e been called florid even at
her healthiest moments — was rendered still more pale by the "bloom"
of "babies'" ])Owder, with which she never failed to indue it, previous
to leaving her chaml;er. Her eyes — they were of the Irish grey kind —
she always kept half-closed, as if from long want of rest — but then
Nature had blessed Mrs. Quinine with long, dark, swecjiing eye-
lashes, and these were never seen to such perfection as when brought
into contrast with her white skin. Her upper lip was drawn up
slightly, as if in continual pain — but then Mrs. Quinine was gifted
with a " remarkably fine set of teeth," and was sufKcicnt " woman of
the world" to know that there was no use in her having such things
unless she showed them. Moreover, the favourite, because the nioht
touching, posture, of Mrs. Quinine, was witli her head sliglitly drooping,

166 1851; OR, the adventures of

and her clieek resting on her hand — hut then the lady prided herself
on the smallness of her extremities (the tips of toes coukl he just
seen at the end of the couch, peeping from heneath her rohe) ; and,
with her arms raised, she knew that the hlood could not circulate so
freely in her fingers, and, consequently, that she would he saved the
trouble of continually rubbing them, in order to improve their
whiteness.

And, truth to say, the illness of Mrs. Quinine was as agreeable to
herself as it was interesting to her doctor and acquaintances, and
inconvenient to her husband. ]\Irs. Blanche's prevailing belief was,
that she was suffering from extreme debility, and that if she had not
the very best of food to live upon, accompanied with continual change
of air and scene, she felt satisfied she had but a short time to remain
in this world.

In this conviction Mrs. Quinine was fully borne out by the pro-
found opinion, most gravely delivered, with the lady's pulse in one
hand, and his gold repeater in the other, by her medical adviser —
that " dear, loveable old man," Doctor Twaddles — who added, that
unless she would keep herself quiet, and refrain from making the
least exertion, and could at the same time be secured perfect peace of
mind at home, without being thwarted in the slightest wish — as he
said this, the doctor knitted the grey, bushy brows which hung
down about his eyes like a Skye terrier's, and looked death-warrants
at the husband of the lady — he would not take it upon himself to
answer for the consequences.

Now, Doctor Twaddles was a gentleman who had fortunately been
blest with a remarkably imposing appearance.

ISTature had been most bountiful to the Doctor. He had an intensely
" fine bald head of his o^vn" — round and hairless as an ostrich's z^^ ;
and this attractive exterior had been worth a thousandfold more to
him than the interior ever could have been, even had it been as full
of brains as every z^^^ is said to be full of meat. Had the Doctor de-
pended for his advancement in life on his skill, he might have re-
mained without a patient and A^-ithout a crust \ but, so to speak, standing
on his bald head, he had been able to drink his wine daily, although
he certainly was " no conjuror."

The head, to which Doctor Twaddles owed so much, and which had
won for him such a number of hatbands from departed patients,
was fringed with silver, for the little hair that still lingered round it
was white as driven snow. His features were prominent and sta-
tuesque. His coat, which was always scruijulously clean and dust-
less, was black and glossy as that of a mourning-coach horse ; and he
so far clung to the manners of the old school, as to allow his nether
garments to descend only to his knees, where they Avere fastened by
a pair of small gold buckles. His legs, which — to do Doctor
Twaddles justice — were exceedingly well shaped, and perhaps accounted
for the Doctor's still clinging to the obsolete fashion of exhibiting
them, were veiled by a pair of very thin gossamer- like black-silk
stockings, through which the flesh showed with a pinky hue; so that

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 67

the medical gentleman's calves, as lie sat with them crossed one over
the other, so as to give the foremost an extra plumpness, bore a
strong resemblance in colom- to black currant jam.

The only ornaments that the Doctor wore, were a diamond pin
" set transparent," and so pellucid as to be scarcely visible on the
white neckcloth that it fastened; and a series of mourning rings on
his third and little fingers, as ostentatious marks of respect from some
of the most illustrious and wealthy patients he had buried; while
from below his waistcoat there dangled a bunch of gold seals, almost
as big as the tassel at the end of a bell- rope, and these the Doctor
delighted, as he leant back in his chair, to swing up and down, like a
muffin-bell, while delivering his opinion.

Doctor Twaddles was wont to increase the importance of his opinion
by multiplying himself into many, and substituting, in his discourse,
for the plain, humble, and honest I, the jjompous, imposing and pre-
sumptuous "We, — the special prerogative of monarchs and editors. Cer-
tainly this style of discourse was fraught with some few attendant
advantages, even beyond that of leading the hearer to believe that the
verdict pronounced was not the judgment of one solitary individual,
but the unanimous opinion of an indefinite number; for when the
Doctor, after due feeling of pulse and knitting of brows, said to his
patients that xoe must take a blue pill and black dose, it appeared to
the invalid as if the generous Physician intended to swallow half his
own medicine.

But, on the other hand, some of the Doctor's plural edicts had a
particularly singular sound with them; for when he told his lady-
patients that tcQ must put our feet in hot water, it seemed as if he
intended indulging in a joint foot-bath with them. Equally sti-ange
and startling did it sound when he said, that " v:g really must go out
of toAvn ;" or, stranger still, when in a mysterious manner he declared,
that " we really must go to bed as quick as possible."

Dr. Twaddles was a great favourite with the ladies, by whom he
was invariably described as a " loveablc old man." His manner was
gentle and polite as a well-fee'd pew-opener. His voice he always
subdued to a complimentary sympathy, and he was especially tender
in his handling of his fair patients' pulses. He was, moreover,
" remarkably fond of children," for whom he generally carried in his
pockets a small canister filled either with acidulated drops, " refined
liquorice," or " black currant lozenges." In his habits, too, he wixs
quite a family man, and never failed, if in his visits he found the more
healthy mendjers of the family at a "liot lunch," of seating liiniself
good-huniouredly at the table, and declaring that he musl really liavO
a bit of the pudding, for he was happy to say that he was still quite a
boy in his " love of sweets."

Nor was the " advice" usually given by Dr. Twaddles of a less
attractive character.

The Doctor invariably acted upon the ai)parent]y disinterested plan
of objecting to the use of physic — excepting of course in the most
urgent cases. Formerly, according to the old fublc, curricrd were

68 1851 ; OE, the adventures of

l^rone to insist there was notliiiif^ like leather, but of late the contrary,
and far more lucrative, practice has sprung up among us ; and now-a-
days lawyers counsel their clients on no account to " go to law," — with
the greatest possible success ; and physicians rail at the exhibition of
jihysic — to equal advantage.

With Doctor Twaddles, " diet Avas everything" — all maladies pro-
ceeding, according to his popular pathology, from the stomach; for
patients, he had long ago discovered, never objected to being fed
into good health, however strong an aversion they might have to being
dosed into convalescence.

Another mode of insinuation that the Doctor adopted was to explain
to the invalids, in language that they could not possibly understand,
the cause of the malady for which he was prescribing, and the reason
for the remedies he adopted : this he did in short family physiological
lectures, which he loved to illustrate by the most ordinary objects. He
would tell the astonished and half-aftrighted patients how the greater
part of the food taken into the system acted simply as coals to the
vital fire, — how the lungs were, if he might be allowed the expression,
nothing more than the grate in which the alimentary fuel was being
consumed, and keeping up a continued suppl}' of caloric for the human
frame, for, that the selfsame operation was going on in the human
chest as in the stove beside him.

As he said this, the bald-headed Doctor would lean back v.'ith evident
self-satisfaction in the easy chair, and swing his watch-seals round and
round like a watchman's rattle. Then he usually jH-oceeded to explain
how every human creature was burning away, in the process of respira-
tion, at the least one pound of charcoal per diem ; that every meal was,
when viewed Avith the i^hilosophic eye, nothing more than throwing
another shoA^elful or tAvo of coals on to the ever-consuming fire; and
that for himself, he did not care in what form the charcoal AA'as intro-
duced into the system, but one pound of it he must really insist upon
being sAA'allowed daily.

Mrs. Quinine — Avho, by-the-bye, never lost an opportunity of im-
pressing upon strangers that her name was pronounced Keneen, even
as the Beauvoirs, the Cholmondeleys, the Majoribanks, and the Cock-
burns, insist upon being called Beavers, Chumleys, Marchbanks, and
Coburns — Mrs. Quinine, Ave repeat, agreed with the rest of the female
world in her estimation of the dear old Doctor TAvaddles. Nor Avas it to
be wondered at, for the Doctor certainly did his best to make the lady's
indisposition as pleasant and profitable as possible to her.

Tme to his dietetic discipline, the loveable old Physician gave the
lady to understand that all she required was nourishing food, and
accordingly his prescriptions consisted of a succession of the most agree-
able and toothsome delicacies ; so that the fair invalid ha\'ing merely
to submit to a course of high feeding, gave herself up to the care of the
dear Doctor Avith the most exemplary patience.

At six in the morning, Mrs. Quinine began her dietetic course with
a cup of homo?opathic cocoa, that Avas kept simmering through the night

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 09

in a small teapot, resting (heaven knows wliy !) on the turrets of a china
castle, in the porcelain donjon of which burnt a melancholy spirit lamp.
This it was her husband's duty to give the lady immediately her
eyes Avere opened. Her breakfast, which was mostly taken in bed,
consisted of coffee, procured, according to the express injimctions of
the Doctor, from a house where analysis had proved it to be unadulte-
rated, and made, after Doctor Twaddles' own receipt, entirely with milk,
obtained from an establishment where the Doctor could vouch for its
being genuine. The coffee was sometimes accompanied with the lean
of a mutton-chop, " cut thick," and " done with the gravy in it ;"
sometimes with a rasher or two of " Dr. Gardner's digestive bacon," and
sometimes Avith the wing of a cold chicken ; while the bread of which
she partook was of the unformented kind, had fresh every day from
the Doctor's own man in the City. At twelve the invalid rose, and de-
scended to a light lunch of either oysters, a small custard pudding,
or some calf's-foot jelly made palateable and strengthening with
wine ; and with this, and an egg or two beaten up with milk, and
flavoured with a glass of iSIadeira, the delicate lady was enabled
to linger on till the more substantial meal of the day.

Mrs. Quinine's dinner, for the most part, Avas made up of a " little
bit" of tish and a "mouthful or t\A'o" of game; for the lady con-
descended but seldom to partake of butcher's meat, and, Avhen she
did so, it Avas solely of the more delicate and expensive kinds, known
as SouthdoAvn or Welsh mutton; Avhile the digestion of these Avas
assisted either Avith " llumford ale," or " India pale," or "Guinness',''
or some other agreeable and stimulating form of dietetic medicine,
procured from establishments Avhich Avere noted for supplying only the
very best articles.

Her supper Avas usually eaten in bed, for the invalid Avas strictly
enjoined to retire to rest at an early hour; and long before she did
so, a fire Avas lighted in her bed-room, so that she might not suffer
from the shock of going into a cold apartment: for the same
reason, the lady's bed Avas Avell Avarnied previous to her entering it;
and Avhen she had been comfortably tucked up by her maid, a hot
AA'ater bottle SAvathed in flannel was placed at her feet. Here the
invalid Avas consoled either Avith a glass of Avarm Avhite-Avine-Avhey, or
a posset, or arroAvroot bought expressly for her at Apothecaries' liall ;
and thus the poor delicate lady Avas enabled to keep body and soul
together imtil the morroAv.

Jiut the course of diet folloAved by the lady Avas far from settled,
for Doctor Twaddles paid great attention to Avhat he termed " the voice
of Nature," and conscfjuently gave strict orders that Avhatevcr his
patient fancied she Avas to have. Accordingly, Mrs. Quinine con-
tinually felt convinced tliat her system rc(iuired change, and that she
needed some most expensive and agrecai)le article of diet. Now her
mouth Avas parched, and nothing but strawberries, though they cost a
guinea a pint, or a buncli or two of h(jt-house grapes, could relievo
lier; then she would give the world for just u taste of spring lainlj and

70 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

new potatoes ; and tlien nothing woukl satisfy her but a mouthful or
two of turbot, even though it were impossible to buy less than a
whole one.

All these little fancies Doctor Twaddles dignified by the name of
"instincts," and declared that they were simply the out-speakings
of exhausted Nature.

!Mi*s. Quinine Avas, of course, too weak to walk abroad, so Doctor
Twaddles enjoined a daily airing in the park, when the weather was
mild, in an open carriage; or, if the lady preferred it, he would
advise a little horse exercise ; and as Mrs. Quinine thought she looked
extremely well in a habit and "wide-awake," she seldom stirred
out unless mounted on a " palfrey" from the neighbouring livery
stables.

Now these and other similar prescriptions of Doctor Twaddles made
illness so pleasant, that, coupled with the interesting character of the
invalid costume (Mrs. Quinine wore the prettiest of nightcaps, trimmed
with the most expensive of lace, when she received visitors in her bed-
room), the lady naturally felt disposed to feel indisposed. And it
was odd how the several complaints to which she professed herself
subject, came and went with the fashionable seasons. In winter she
was " peculiarly susceptible" to bronchitis, so that this necessitated her
being in town at the gayest period of the metropolis. Doctor Twaddles
would not take upon himself to answer for the consequences if Mrs.
Quinine passed a winter in the jirovinces : and — what Avas a severe
calamity — the poor lady could go nowhere in the summer for change of
air, but to the fashionable and lively watering-places, for she Avas ahvays
affected with the hay fever if she visited the more retired and conse-
quently duller parts of the country.

The prevailing afflictions of Mrs. Quinine, however, were neuralgia,
and ''■ a general debility of the system" — indeed, she was always
suffering from her "poor poor nerves;" and though subject to the
greatest depression of spirits in the presence of her husband, (for that
gentleman seldom remonstrated with her, but she burst into a flood of
tears, and declared he Avas "throAving her back,") still, before com-
pany, she was always lively enough, excepting when the A'isitors made
tender inquiries after her health, and then no one certainly could be
more scA^erely aftlicted.

Nor AAas the " debility" under which the lady laboured less eccentric
in its nature, for though it prcA'cnted her taking any exercise in the
open air — but in a carriage or on horseback — still, AA'hen an inA*itatioii
came to a dance, it in no way interfered with her polking in an
*' extremely Ioav" dress half the night tlu-ough.

Mr. Quinine was an eminent painter of " still-life ;" and though his
braces of partridges on canA'as, and his dead hares, and his grapes
and pine-api^les " in oil" were highly admired, and fetched large sums,
it was nevertheless as much as he could do to j^ay the jjhysician's fees
by his game and fruit pieces. "While his Avife was breakfasting or
supping off" her dainties in bed, or " doing" the elegant and interesting
invalid in white cambric on the sofa in the front room, or riding out

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 71

in the Park, lie, (poor man !) was painting away for dear life in his
studio at the back of the house. This the clever little artist (for he
stood but live foot five in his high-heeled Wellingtons) did without a
murmur; for, truth to say, he doated on his dear Blanche, and strove,
by making " studies" of the " birds" prescribed by Doctor Twaddles
before they were cooked for his wife's dinner, somehow or other to
lessen the expenses of "the housekeeping;" for not one of the
Doctor's delectable dietetic prescriptions was ever sent to Covcnt
Garden or Leadenhall Market to be " dispensed," but the econoniic
Quinine was sure to use it as a model before administering it to the
patient.

But even if the little man had felt inclined to raise his voice against
the course pursued, he would immediately have had tlie united battery
of Twaddles and Blanche opened against him; and while the lady
overpowered him with tears, the Doctor would have impressed upon
him, in the most solemn manner, that unless Mrs. Quinine could be
allowed to enjoy the greatest tranquillity of both mind and body,
and be assured the gratification of her slighest wish, it was beyond the
highest talent in the kingdom to undertake to say what distressing
event might happen.

The opening of the Great Exhibition had operated almost as magi-
cally upon the nerves of the susceptible Mrs. Quinine, as an invita-
tion to a The Dansante. Her bronchitis, and the " short hacking
cough" which accompanied it, had almost disappeared under the
influence of the delicious p(S^e de Guimcmve, prescribed by Doctor
Twaddles; the lady's neuralgia had been dissipated by her steel
medicine (and she had swallowed enough of that metal in her time
to have admitted of being cut up into " magnum bonum" pens for the
million); the " weak state of her nerves" no longer required the carriage-
way in front of her house to be strewn with straw, nor the iron-hand
of the street-door knocker to be embellished with a white kid glove ;
for the lady had grown suddenly " so much better," that on request-
ing permission of Doctor Twaddles to visit the Exhibition, she
declared tliat she felt herself quite equal to the task of exploring even
its " five miles of galleries."

Doctor Twaddles did not hesitate to confess himself delighted at
the favouraljle change that had so evidently set in, saying it was due
solely to the wonderful constitution of Mrs. Quinine; but, like a
prudent mau, he wished to " see how matters went on" for a short
time, before lie became a consenting i)arty to her walking out — a
thousand little things as he said might happen to throw her back
again.

The consequence was that the lady made up her mind to take the
Doctor by surjjrise at his next visit, and not only to be ready in the
sitting-rotnn to receive him when he called, init to lie abh- to say that
she had breakfasted down stairs, and felt herself in no way fatigued
with the exertion.

Accordingly, Mrs. Quinine, for the first time since the coronation of

72 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

Her Majesty Queen Victoria — when she had been obliged to be
down in Parliament-street by six in the morning — had risen at day-
break. She had dressed herself with great care, so that she might be
able to make the most favourable impression upon Twaddles. She
had put on a clean white cambric robe-de-chambre, and left off apply-
ing the baby's powder to her complexion; she had, moreover, such a
delicate tinge of pink upon her cheeks, that it was difficult to say
how the colour had got there in so short a space of time. Yesterday,
she was as pale as if she had been white-washed — to-day, her cheeks
w^ere as pinky as the inner lining of a shell. Whether the change
arose from the contrast of her white dress, or from the absence of the
wonted " violet powder," or whether from the faintest touch of the
hare's-foot that her prying maid had once discovered secreted in
the lower tray of her dressing-case, must for ever remain one of those
mysteries of the toilet that it is base presumption in Man to seek to
unravel. Suffice it, Mrs. Quinine, even in her severest illness, never
looked better; and as she left her bed-room, and gave a ])arting
glance at herself in the long cheval-glass, she smiled with inward
satisfaction at the appearance she made on her sudden restoration to
health.

Now as the lady was slowly descending the stairs on her way to the
breakfast room, Mr. Christopher Sandboys was rapidly mounting to an
upper apartment, whither he had been directed by Mrs. Fokesell as the
only convenient place where he could cleanse his face, hands, and clothes,
from the dust of the " half-ton" of coals, in Avhich he and the partner
of his bosom had been almost smothered.

The more "particular" Mrs. Sandboys had retired to the nearest
"baths and washhouses," convinced that nothing but a Avarm-bath
could ever restore Aer to her pristine purity.

The less fastidious Cursty, howevei', as we said before, was hasten-
ing up the stairs, two at a time, with a jug of warm water in his hand,
intent upon a good wash and effecting that physical impossibity of
scrubbing the blackamoor white ; for, so intensely sable with adhering
coal-dust was the complexion of Mr. Sandboys, that, truth to say, the
most experienced ethnologist would, at the first glance, have mistaken
that gentleman for one of the Ethiopian tribe. The lady in white
had descended the first flight of stairs, and was just preparing to turn
the corner of the second, when the black gentleman darted sharply
round, and bounced suddenly upon her.

The nervous Mrs. Quinine was in no way prepared for the sight of a
" man of colour" in such a place or at such a time. Had even her
own husband pounced so unexpectedly upon her, the shock woidd
have been sufficient to have driven all the breath out of the body
of so susceptible a lady ; but to find herself, without the least prepara-
tion, face to face with " a black" — as Mr. Cursty Sandboys appeared to
be — was more than the shattered state of her nerves was able to bear.

The lady no sooner set eyes upon the sable monster than she
screamed like a railway engine on coming to some dark tunnel, and
fainted off dead into the arms of the astonished and terrified Sand-

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 73

boys; and as the lifeless body of the invalid fell heavily against the
wretched Cursty, the dusty, grimy, coaly garments of that gentleman
left their deep black marlc not only upon the Avhite cambric rube but
imprinted a large black patch upon the cheek of the poor unconscious
Mrs. Quinine.

The industrious little artist who called that lady his wife was
busy in his studio, transferring a brace of wild ducks to canvas,
previous to their being cooked for his wife's dinner, when he heard
the piercing scream of his dear Blanciie. With his ]jalette still upon
bis thumb, and his wet paint-brush in his hand, he darted forth, and
discovered his lady insensible, in the arms of a man who, at lirst
sight, struck him as being nothing more relined than a London coal-
heaver.

Guarding his face with his palette, like a shield, the little artist
rushed at the amazed Sandboys, and began attacking him with his
paint-brusli, as with a broadsword, while every stroke be made at the
wretched Cursty's head, left a dab of paint upon his cheeks ; so that
by the time the'indignant Quinine had broken the brush in his repeated
blows, the complexion of Mr. Sandboys was as dark and many-
coloured as that of a highly tattooed Indian chief.

lu such a situation it was impossible for Cursty to defend himself;
to have done as much lie umst have let the strange lady in white
drop to the ground. His gallantry bore the vigorous attack of the
enraged husl^and for some few minutes, but when the little painter
had discarded the impotent weapons of his art, and Sandboys saw him
about to belabour him witli his fists, his Cumbrian blood could put
up with it no longer. Cursty impulsively withdrew his arm from
the lady's waist, to throw himself into an attitude of self-defence ;
and, as he did so, the figure of the unconscious Mrs. Quinine fell
heavily on the floor.

The fall had the cfTect of bringing the lady to her senses, when
she immediately clung to the legs of the little artist so hrndy as to
prevent his continuing the attack. Then, as that gentleman stooped
to raise his wife fron^ the floor, and Sandboys advanced to explain
and apologize for, the misadventure, the lady no sooner set eyes on
the black face that had before deprived her of her senses, than she fell
into a violent fit of hysterics, and made the whole house ring with
her laughter.

The noise brought the huiidred-and-one lodgers from their ai)art-
inents to the stairs, and, from the top to the bottom, at every laudnig-
place, was a bunch of heads "of all nations," — bearded, wliiskered, and
moustachio'd, — some in turbans, others in Creek caps, fc/.-caps, and
nightcaps — all enjoying the scene, and mightily taken with the
piebald state (.f Mrs. Quinine's face and robe de chambrc, and thf party-
coloured character of Mr. Sandboy's complexion.

Nor was Mrs. Sandboys less fortunate in her endeavours to free
herself from the black of the coals. Having removod the supcrhcial
grubbiuesa from her skiu by a hasty rinse of her luce and hands ut

74: 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

the sink in the back kitchen — the only available place — but which
merely had the effect of diluting her complexion down to the swarthi-
ness of a neutral tint, she "jumped" into a cab, and, as we said
before, made the best of her way to the nearest public baths.

Here she Avas delayed some considerable time in procuring her
ticket, owing to the "rush" of Frenchmen, Germans, Eussians, and
Poles, congregated round the building, for the London lodging-house
keepers had come to a resolution not to receive any foreigners into
their establishments imless they came prepared with a certificate from
some of the metropolitan washhouses. Her ticket, once obtained,
however, Mrs. Sandboys proceeded to make her way down the long
narrow passage, between the two rows of little bath rooms, on the
" ladies' side" of the establishment. At the end of the corridor she
was met by the female attendant, who, in answer to her request for a
bath, informed her that all the "warms" were full, but that she
expected there'd be " a shower" shortly.

Now, the innocent Mrs. Sandboys, having never heard of such a
style of bathing as the last mentioned, Avas naturally led to believe
that the attendant alluded to nothing less than the unsettled state of
the weather; so casting her eyes up to the skylight, she observed in
reply, that she dare say they tvotddlmve a shower before long, adding,
that it was just what country people wanted.

"Perhaps, then, you wouldn't object to that there, mum?" returned
attendant, as she arranged the pile of towels in the cupboard.

" Whya, as Ise here, I dunuet mind, if 'twill be ow'r suin,"
replied the simple-minded Mrs. Sandboys, still referring to the rain.
"I dare say 't'uU dui a power of guid to cwuntry fwoke."

" Oh, yes, mum ! always does a vast deal of good, and is sure to be
over in no time," returned the bath-woman, still harping on her
baths.

In a few minutes the shower-bath was at liberty, and Mrs. Sand-
boys seated herself in a chair in the passage, while the attendant went
to prepare the room for her use.

Presently the woman returned with the heavy-looking wet towels
of the departed bather in her hand, hanging down like paunches;
letting them "flop" on the floor, she requested Mrs. Sandboys to
folloAv her, as the room was quite ready. Mrs. Sandboys did as
desired, and was shown into a small apartment, into which she was
no sooner ushered than the attendant withdrew, saying, that if the
lady wanted anything there was a bell and she would please to ring.

The room was a small cabin-like apartment, Avith a narroAV little
bench against one side of it, while above this a few wooden hooks
projected from the wall. A tiny " shaving-glass" hung against the
partition, and the uncarpeted floor was dark-coloured AA'ith the
drippings of the previous bathers. In one corner Avas Avhat appeared
at first sight to be a long upright cupboard, but A\diich in reality Avas
"the second-class" shoAver-bath. The door of this apparatus Avas
placed wide open, and inside there stood a chair, Avhile a small cord
dangled from above.

MK. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 7o

Mrs. Sandboys observing nothing that appeared to her primitive
mind to bear the slightest resemblance to a bath in the room, con-
jectured that the hot water would be brought to her in a large pan
immediately it was ready.

Accordingly, she set to work to divest herself of her bonnet and
cloak; and having arranged those articles on the bench, she pro-
ceeded, in her simplicity, to seat herself in the chair immediately under
the shower-bath, in the corner of the little apartment, there to await
the coming of the expected pan.

Her patience endured the imaginary delay for some few minutes,
but at length growing wearied of her solitary situation, she got angry
at the non-appearance of the attendant, and starting from her seat,
seized the cord which dangled above her head, and which she — poor
innocent dame ! — mistook for the bell-pull.

Determined to put up with the neglect no longer, she gave a
vigorous pull at the rope. Thump went the catch, and instantly
dowTi, through the colander above, came a miniature deluge, consisting
of two pailsful of *' cold pump," suddenly let loose, in the form of a
thousand watery wires, upon the head of the luckless ^Irs. Sandboys.

What with the unexpectedness of the catastrophe, and the coldness
of the water — rendered still more cold by the minuteness of its division
— and the rapidity of its descent through the air, together with the
perfectly novel character of the bath to the unsophisticated native _ of
Buttermere, the poor lady was so perfectly paralysed by the icy
torrent, that she was unable to escape fr<jm it; and it was not
until a few moments after the cataract had ceased that she rushed
out of the balneatory cupboard, gasping for breath, and lighting
the air; while her clothes, shining with the wet, like a tarpaulin
clung about her as tight as if she had been done up in brown paper,
and her hair hung in skeins over her face, so that she had very much
of the soaked appearance of a Polish hen on a rainy day.

As soon as she could fetch sufficient breath to scream, she gave a
series of shrieks, and capered about the apartment after the manner
of the war-dance of the wild Indians.

The peal of screams were echoed and re-echoed as they rattled
against the bare walls of the building, and spread an instant alarm
among tlie entire corps of ladies then in the bathing-rooms. One
and all they imagined, from the ])iercing tone of the shrieks, that
nothing less could have occurred than tliat some brute of a man —
some impudent Frenchmen, or a wretch of a Turk jx'rhaps — through
accident or design — had found his way to the ladies' side of the esta-
blishment, and taken some poor dear by surprise. Accordingly they,
one after another, repeated the screams of the original screanur —
shouting, " It's a man! It's a man ! It's a man !"

In an instant the female attendant came rusliiiig down tl\i' citrndor.
8uch (.f the lady bathers as were dressed KU(ld«;nly opened tin- doors
of their litthi apartments, and stood with them ajar, so that they
might shim them to again in case of danger; while tliose wlio wen;
unable to make their ui)pearance, jumped ui)on the bench within, und

76 1851; OR, the adventures of

popped tlieir bald-looking beads, encased as tbey were in yellow
greasy-looking batiiing-caps, over tbe doors, and squinted into tbe
passage like so many birds from tbe bouse-tops; and as tbey saw tbe
male autborities come burrying towards tbe jioint of alarm, tbey eacb
uttered a sudden " Ho !" and bobbed down again into tbe privacy of
tbeir cabins, as jauntily as so many " Jacks-iu-tbc-box."

Tbe female attendant endeavoured to explain to tbe infuriated Mrs.
Sandboys tbat " it was all a mistake ;" but tbat lady felt convinced
tbat tbe wbole aftair was notbing more nor less tban a preconcerted
Irick, and tbat a cistern full of water, at tbe very least, bad been emptied
upon ber, tbrougb a trap-door in tbe ceiling, by some wicked wretcb
secreted over bead ; and tbat tbis bad been done simply because the
2)cople saw sbc was — like tbe railway milk — fresb from tbe country.

In vain did tbe autborities — Avbo witb difficulty were able to sustain
ibat solemnity of countenance wbicb is so necessary a part of tbe
duties of all public functionaries — beg to assure tbe lady tbat tbe
apparatus in question was really a form of batb — a sbower — belonging
to tbe establisbment, much approved of, and bigbly recommended by
tbe faculty.

But Mrs. Cursty was fully satisfied tbat no person in bis senses
would dream of coming to such a j^lace to enjoy a sbower, wben,
if tbey were tbat way inclined, tbey migbt, on any wet day, bave one
for notbing. Moreover, sbe begged to be informed, witb an air of
triumpb, — ^just to let tbe Londoners see tbat sbe was not quite so
.simple as tbey seemed to fancy ber, — " if sbowers were so bigbly
recommended by tbe faculty, wbat people carried umbrellas for f and
as sbe made tbe overpowering inquiry, sbe, in tbe ardour of tbe dis-
cussion, gave so self-satistied a sbake of ber bead, tbat sbe sprinkled
tbe water from ber bair all over tbe by-standers, like a Newfoundland
dog just emerged from a river.

It was impossible even for tbe grave functionaries to keep serious
Any longer, but tbeir smiles served only to make tbe assurance of
Mrs. Sandboys " doubly sure" tbat a wicked trick bad been played
upon ber ; so, putting on ber bonnet and cloak — wet as sbe was —
^be left the establisbment, vowing tbat sbe would bave tbem all up
before a magistrate, and well puuisbed for tbeir sbameful conduct
towards a poor lone countrywoman like berself.

A cab soon conveyed tbe wretcbed, and shivering, and moist Mrs.
Sandboys back to ber lodgings. There she and ber dear Cursty once
more endeavoured to console one another — but consolation Avas boot-
less in the state of tbe Sandboys' wardrobe.

Accordingly, Avbile Aggy borrowed a " change" of tbe landlady, and
proceeded to squeeze ber corpulent figure into the thin Mrs. Fokesell's
" things," Jobby was dispatched to the railway station to see after tbe
tbree-and-twenty boxes tbat constituted the family luggage, witb full
instructions (given at Mrs. Fokesell's advice) — provided no tidings of
tbe mi.ssing packages could be obtained at the " goods department" —

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 7T

to scour tlie whole country round, by means of the electric telegraph,
in search of them.

To prevent accidents, hoAvever, Elcy was made to write down all
that was wanted, together with an accurate description of all that was
missing ; and, as she did so, the tender-hearted girl did not fall to
include a gi-aphic account of her dear pet Psyche, Avhom, she felt con-
vinced, must be reduced to a positive "bag of bones"' — a canine
" living skeleton" — by this time.

The youth, as directed, took the Hungerford omnibus, and made
his way, without much difficulty, to the railway station. There, he
could hear nothing as to the whereabouts of the family boxes ; accord-
ingly he proceeded to the Telegraph Office, and having handed in the
written instructions, he set out on his return home.

As he passed under the archway of the station, it so happened that
"a school of Acrobats" were exhibiting their feats within the open
si)ace in front of the two large raihvay hotels. Jobby, with his mouth
wide agape, stood outside the gates watching the posturers pile
themselves, three men and a boy, high on one another's shoulders.

The exhibition was as new as it was exciting to the lad. With a
thrill of pleasurable amazement the youth saw for the first time in
his life the " pole balancer" in his suit of spangled cotton " fleshings,"
and the tawdry black velvet fillet round his well-oiled hair, lie on his-
back on a small handkerchief of carpet, and balance and catch and
twirl the heavy jiole on the soles of his feet. Then, almost breathless
AA-ith ecstasy, he beheld the " bending tumbler" slowly bend his body
back till his head reached the ground, and proceed to pick up i)ins
A\-ith his eyelids. Next, he Avitnesscd " the equilibrist" balance, .spin-
ning plates high in the air, and burning paper-bags upon his chin, and
catch huge cannon balls from a height in a cup upon his head — and
as all this went on, and he heard the sound of the music, and looked
at the glittering costumes of the performers, Jobby was entranced
with positive rapture. He had never seen, never heard, never dreamt
of anything half so beautiful.

Nor could he scarcely credit that they were human like liimself,
till he saAV the men put their shabby black coats over their spangles,
and as one shouldered the pole, and the other carried the box, stroll off
in close conversation with " the drum and jjipes," and a troop of pina-
fored boys at their heels, to some fresh (piartcr of the toAvn.

Jobby stood for a moment hooking after the croAvd, longing, but
fearing, to follow them. The temptation, howcA'cr, of once more
Ijeholding their marvellous feats Avas too mucli for him — so, as lie saAv
them turn the corner, he took to his heels, and hurried after the
troo]).

Tlicrc for the present avc must leave him.

78 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

CHAPTER VIII.

" The lasses o' Carel are weel-shap'd an' bonny,
But be that wad win yen muu brag of his gear,
You may follow and follow till heart sick and weary —
To t^et them needs siller and fine claes to wear.
" They'll catch at a reed cwoat leyke as monie mack'rel,
And jump at a fop, or even lissen a fuil,
Just brag of an uncle that's got heaps of money,
And de'il a bit odds if you've ne'er been at schuil.

Tli.e Lasses of Card,

"Deuce tek the clock! click-clackiu' sae
Ay in a body's ear,
It tells and tells the teyme is past,

When Jobby sud been here.
■»»***
" But, whisht ! T hear my Jobby's fit ;
Aye, that's his varra clog !
He steeks the faul yeat softly tui —
Oh, hang that civolcy dog .'"

The Impatient Lassie.

If as Mr. Sidney Herbert lias informed us this nation be suffering
from a flut of females — if as the commercial editor of the Economist
would say, the extreme depression of our matrimonial markets be due
to an over-production of spinsters — if the annual supply of marriageable
young ladies in this country be greater than the demand for the same
on th^ part of marriageable young gentlemen— if virgin loveliness is
becoming as cheap as slop shirts in the land, and the market value
of heiresses has fallen considerably below their real value — if Cupid is
compelled to dispose of the extensive stock he has now on hand of
last season's beauties, at an " alarming sacrifice," on accoimt of the
" TREMENDOUS FAILURE" of Hymen — assuredly the Great Exhibition
of all Nations was a Avise means of restoring the matrimonial markets
of the metropolis to a healthy equilibrium.

When the philogynic mind — which we take it is a thousand-fold
better than the mere philanthropic commodity — is led to consider
the vast influx of susceptible natures that will occur at that event-
ful period — when we remember that the most eminent statisticians
have calculated, that " a wave" of a hundred thousand pairs of mus-
tachios will be tossed upon our shores every week — Avhen we recollect
that monster trains, filled with every kind of " hairy monster," will
deposit, at the London Bridge terminus, their daily thousands of
gynolatrous Frenchmen, with very large beards, and very small
carpet-bags, together Avith their hundreds of polygamic Turks,
hirsute as handsome, and with turbans as bewitching to the ladies, as
that of the black cymbal-player in the Guards, — when we reflect,
moreover, that as if this superabundance of amatoriness Avas not a
sufiicient boon to the "women of England," the Iron Duke had, with
a view of creating an embarras de richesse for the ladies, given

im. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 79

orders that an extra body of soldiers — all picked men — should be
marched up from the country, and bivouacked in the neighbourhood
of the ladies' schools, embellishing the outskirts of the capital — ^^vhen,
too, we call to mind that the active and vigilant Commissioners of
Police have, as a grand captivating climax to the whole, come to the
noble resolution of adding no less than eight hundred pairs of whiskers
to the already strong amatory power of " the force,'' — when, in fine, we
come to think upon the turbans of the Turks — the beards of the
Frenchmen — the mustachios of the soldiers — and the whiskers of the
police, that will be all congregated within the Bills of Mortality, into
one vast focus of fascination, — what maid, what widow shall not be
wooed — shall not be won — and after all, count herself extremely lucky
if she's wed.

While Mr. and ]\Irs. Sandboys and iliss Elcy sat by the kitchen
fire, anxiously awaiting the return of Jobby from the station, or the
arrival of some tidings from the telegraph, touching their missing
boxes. Major Oldschool was in the parlour, wondering when he should
have any news as to the whereabouts of that " ungTateful young hussy,"
his niece, who, after he had sent for her home from Miss Wewitz's esta-
blishment at Wimbledon, had returned his kindness by going oft" with a
foreign Count, with a beard like a Scotchman's philibeg, and a port-
manteau not much bigger than a sand\\'ich-box. However, he had given
information to the police, and a couple of their most active oflicers
Lad been despatched after the fugitives.

At this juncture, one of the Detective Force called at Mrs.
Fokesell's, to apprise tlie Major that they had already tracked the
runaway ^Miss. The maid went out into the area to answer the knock
and learn the business of the visitor. In a few minutes she returned,
saj'ing, it was a strange kind of a man, and that he had a strange
kind of a way wth him, and had whispered something to her down the
railings that he wanted to see a gentleman about "summat as was
missing."

The Sandboys no sooner lieard this, than they, one and all, started
from their seats, declaring it Avas the man from the telegraph with
news of poor Psyche and their boxes.

The maid was despatched with directions to bring the messenger
down into the kitchen immediately, and in a minute a pair of heavy
boots were heard descending the stairs,

"Tha's come about that thar Ixiggage of ourn, haista?" inquired
Mr. Cursty.

The term "baggage" was quite sufficient to assure the Detective tliat
he was in the j>resence of the gentleman whose female relative had
eloped with tlie foreign Count.

"Yes, sir; we've got some clue as to what you allude to — we've
discovered tlicir whereabouts, at least" — and the cautious and niyste-
terious Officer winked hi.s eye, and nodded his head knowingly.

" Oh, thar's a guid man! a guid man ! ' cried Mrs. Saudboys, with
extreme joy. " So tlia'st heard on t'thiugs at last."

80 1851 ; OP, THE ADVENTUEES OF

" True, ma'am," replied the Officer, " when last we heard on — you
know — the things" — and he winked again — '• they wasn't a hundred
miles from" — and here he looked cautiously round the room, and
added in a whisper — " Gretna Green, ma'am."

" Gertna Gern!" exclaimed Mr. Cursty; "whar on yerth be that?"

"Why, I should think it's about, as near as may be, three hundred
and fifty miles," added the Detective, nodding his head knowingly,
" from where you're a sitting on."

" ^\''aistoma ! waistoma ! we shall set e'en on t'thlngs never nae
mair," shouted Mrs. Sandboys, wringing her hands, as she thought
of the "changeless" state of the family.

" And my poor pet ! oh, dear ! " interjected Elcy,

Mr. Christopher inquired whether they were in safe custody.

" Why, no, sir, we can't say as how we've got 'em in custody, yet.
You see its rayther nasty work making mistakes inmatters of thiskind."

" Then wha in t' neame of guidness had got how'd of t' guids,"
aslvcd the wife, in a half-frantic state of alarm.

" Oh, you needn't be under no fears, ma'am; its the same foreign
party," returned the officer, with another familiar jerk of his head,
'• as bolted from London Avith the ' bit of goods,' as you says, ma'am."
And here he gave another wink.

"Oh, then it be as I 'spected, Cursty," added Mrs. S., "and I
suddent Avonder but t' nasty, filthy wretch has got on, at this verra
teyme, yen of t' new shirts I bought thee."

"And what ever Avill become of my poor, poor pet?" ejaculated
Elcy, with tears in her eyes, for she could think of nothing else but
Psyche. " You don't happen to know — do you, sir — whether that
horrid, horrid foreigner is treating the dear thing well, and whether
lie gives her plenty to eatf

" Why, for the matter of that, Miss, I think the party a'nt got
over much for hisself," and as if the information Avas very important,
the Detective nodded and Avinked at the young lady several times in
succession.

" Ah, I thought it would be so," sobbed the young lady, bursting
into a flood of tears, " and after all the pains I had taken to fatten the
darling. Perhaps you might have heard Avhether that brute of a
foreign gentleman, sir, alloAved the dear to continue her flannel
jackets; for if he's only made her leave them oft', I'm sure the poor
creature must haA^e shivered herself all to pieces by this time.

"' Indeed, ma'am !" exclaimed the astonished Detective, Avho began
to think, from Elcy's description, that the missing young lady couldn't
be much of a beauty — and, like the gallant members of the force, he
flattered himself he was a bit of a judge that Avay ; then, as hs
lieard the broken-hearted girl sob aloud at the thoughts of the sufferings
and appearance of her darling Psyche, he said to Mr. Sandboys, " The
young lady seems to have been wery much attached to t'other one, sirf
" Oh, yes," replied Mrs. Sandboys, " she a'Avays wud hev her to
sleep at t' fut of her bed, even though I set mey feace again it, lest
there might be a fcAV stray fleas about t' creatur', you ken."

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 81

The Detective stared with astonishment, and began to think that
the family were all very strange. However, it was easy to tell by
their conversation that they were fresh from the coimtry, and that, in
his mind, made allowance for a great deal. If he had not felt con-
vinced, however, that he had made no mistake in the number of the
house, he might have had some slight suspicion as to his blunder, but
a-s it was, he attributed the peculiar character of their conversation to
an ignorance of London ways and manners.

" Oh, sir," Elcy broke out again, " do — pray, do, sir — try and get my
poor, poor pet back for me."

" Well, Miss, I think we shall be able to oblige you by and by,"
returned the officer, twiddling his bushy whiskers with self-satisfaction;
" I came to tell you "

" Yes ! yes !"'

"That we had just had news up by telegraph from one of our men
down in the North, that she Avas seen yesterday in company with a
queer-kind of a foreign gentleman — the same party, from all as I can
learn, as ran away with her — that is to say, if the description we've
got is correct. It says here," — and he drew from his pocket
a paper, which he began reading, — 'female — small and elegant
figure.'"

"Yes, sir; yes, sir!" interrupted the anxious Elcy. " >She was an
Italian, sir; and one of the most perfect animals ever seen, sir."

" Well, my instructions don't say nothing, !Miss, about her l)eing of
Italian extraction ; but if she came from that there country, it's quite
sufficient to account for her being what you sajs, Miss. But my
adwices runs merely — 'female — small and elegant figure,'" continued
the officer, reading.

" Wheyte reet," interrupted Cursty.

" llayther fresh colour," added the Detective.

" Yes, sir, we used to call her foxy — and she had one of the most
beautiful coats of her own you ever saw."

" Xo, there ain't a word here about her having any kind of a coat.
But I know. Miss; you means one of them there kind of hairy coats
we sees the females in Regent Street in, now-a-days."

" And what was very remarkable about her, sir," continued Elcy,
intent upon the perfections of her lost pet, " was her nose — it was a
Ijeauty, I do assure you — so long and shar[>, and then always so nice
and cold, even in the height of summer."

The JJetcctive could not help smiling at the country girl's idea of
a beautiful nose, and again referring to his paper, said, half to himself,
" They've got it down liere as Grecian, but 1 suppose that'll tlo."

" Then again, sir, she had one of tlie smallest waists, and, I really
think, the very thinnest legs you could see anywhere."

The Policeman started witli wonder at what he thought the young
lady's extreme simplicity, and merely observed, '• Our people don't
say nothing about her legs, Miss;" then, turning to Mr. Sundhoys, he
inquiro<l whctlier he had ever known the Italian to go astray befm'e.

" Why, noa," returned Cursty; " I never keimed her run after owt,

ti

82 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

■with t' exception of a young hare yence, as she fell in wi', down
Butterraere way."

"Ah, that's what they'll all do," observed the Policeman; " they are
all ready enough to run after the young heirs, sir, in town and country,
too," he added, smiling at his self-conceited severity on the sex ; " and
them Italians, I'm told, sir, is shocking warm-blooded creatures."

" Warm-blooded 1" echoed Cursty; " I'se sure, she always seemed
cold enough wi' us, for she were sheevering and shecking away
from mworniug tuU neet, for aw the warl' as if she was a loomp of
penter's seyze, (painter's size.) But they be ongracious things to kip ;
food seems aw thworn away on 'em."

" Yes !" said Mrs. Sandboys, indignantly, " though I 'lowanced her
as much as twa pennywuth of meat every day, forby aw the screps
from our tebble, she never did yen onny justice. If yen had hawf
starved her, she cuddent a bin mair thin than she were."

The larder-loving Policeman could not help thinking to himself that
the allowance was far from being anything to brag about, nor Avas he
much astonished, now that he was made acquainted with the diet she
had been used to, at the disappearance of the imaginary young lady.

" If it wer'n't for puir Elcy, here, I meysel suddent car' sa varra
much if t' creature never kem back nae mair, for there beant much
'Ifection in them thar Italians. Now it were ou'y last year, she'd
twa yoimg ones."

The Detective started back with astonishment, and began to think
that such a circumstance fully accounted for " the party" having gone
ofi" with the French gentleman on the present occasion.

" Yes, it's a fact, she had twa young ones, and didn't sim to car' a
bit when I drowned them baith in our pond."

The Policeman no sooner heard the confession of Avhat he believed
to be a case of infanticide, than he exclaimed " Did I understand you,
sir, that yo7t — you yourself drowned the poor little things 1"

" Yes," continued the innocent iSandboys, " I thoAvt she wuddent be
yable to 'tend to them, you ken; so, for her seek, I 'termined on
putting them out of t' way as whietly as I cud."

The Detective here assumed a solemn tone, and proceeded to caution
Mr. Sandboys after the cuotom of his craft, telling him that he Avas
not called upon to criminate himself, and that whatever he might say
on the painful subject would be used in evidence against him on a
future occasion.

It was now Mr. Sandboys' turn to stare with the same astonishment
at the Detective, as the "man of peace" had a few moments before
looked at him.

" What dost tha mean, man, by t' painful subject, and yens words
being yiised in yevidence against yen ?" he hastily inquired.

The Policeman made no more ado, but straightway drew his staft'
from his hinder pocket, and told Cursty that he arrested him and the
whole family in the Queen's name ; and, to give additional weight to
the announcement, he added, that he was a Detective Officer, in con-
nexion with her Majesty's Metropolitan. Police.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. B9

The words were no sooner out of '-'the Authority's" mouth than Mr.
Sandboys, viA-idly rememberins^ his railway adventure •\\-ith a pseudo
member of the same respectable body, seized the kitchen poker, which
happened to be in the fire at that moment, and, without a word, pro-
ceeded, with it in his hand, to chase the startled Official round the
kitchen table; but finding it impossible to get within arm's length
of the Policeman while that article of furniture stood between them,
Cursty stopped, after a few turns, and placed himself before the doorway,
with the red-hot weapon still in his hand, and vowed that the Detec-
tive should not leave the house until he had given him in charge.
Mr. Sandboys told him he had been taken in by that detective trick
once before ; and though he and his family might be fresh up from
the country, and the Londoners might think they could impose upon
them as they pleased, still he'd let them see he was a match for them,
this time, " for aw that."

The self-possessed policeman, finding himself imprisoned, stepped
back a few paces ; and, drawing his rattle from his coat-pocket, pro-
ceeded to spring it with all his force in the middle of the kitchen,
amid the shrieks of Mrs. and Miss Sandboys.

In a minute down came the lodgers " of all nations," in ready
answer to the summons ; and scarcely had the " whir-r" finished,
before the kitchen was filled with the "drawing-rooms," "the second
and third floors," and " the garrets" from every quarter of the globe;
and among the number was ^Mr. Quinine, who was heard to declare that
the sudden alarm had thrown !Mrs. Quinine back — it was impossible
for him to say to what extent.

Then, of course, came the humiliating explanation in the presence
of the assembled nmltitude ; and there, amidst the laughter " of all
natious," — for the foreigners, one and all, would have the circumstance
translated to them, — Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys had to make known the
whole of the mistake, and to tell how Cursty was about to be taken
into custody on a charge of infanticide, for having drowned a couple
of puppies. By the time he had finished what theatrical critics term
"the edaircissement of the contretemjys," a body of police, attracted to
the spot by the well-known buzz of a distant rattle, swarmed round
the door like blue-bottles round a butcher's shop, and there they kept
dabbing at the knocker, very much after the same persevering manner
as belongs to beadles accompanying the parish engine to a chimney
on fire.

As we said before, while the Sandboys were in the kitchen,
anxiously looking for some tidings touching their luggage, I^Iajor
Oldschool was, inmicdiatcly overhead, impatiently pacing the parlour,
and vowing all manner of vengeance against his niece for having gono
oH" with a " dirty, beggarly, skinny vagabond of a Frenchman." Tfio
Major was what is tcniicd a "good hater" of foreigners.

Major (Jhlschool was a jjortly little man, who had left one of his
logs behind him in India, where the bejtter part of his life had been
Bpent, and where, while attacking one of the bamboo forts of the

o2

84 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

Burmese, he liad been womuled in Ins knee-cap in snch a manner as
to necessitate the amputation of the liml). In figure he was lar from
commanding; for the high living of India had giA'en him so strong a
tendency to corpulence, that he had lost sight of his boot for many
years. This obesity was a great annoyance to the Major, and,
to keep his fat within due bounds, his braided blue surtout was made
to tit so tight, that you could not help fancying but that, with the
slightest })uncture, he would shrivel up to a mere bit of skin, like
an India-rubber ball. Major Oldschool, withal, had that " highly
respectable" appearance which invariably accompanies the white hair
so peculiar to Bankers, Capitalists, and Pomeranian dogs. It was
the Major's continual boast, that he M^as grey before he was thirty;
and so proud was he of his silver locks, that he wore them half over
his face, in the form of whiskers and moustachios, which met at the
corners of his mouth, and gave him very much the look of a gentle-
man who had been called away in the middle of shaving, and had
the lather still clinging about his li])s and cheeks.

Another striking peculiarity of the !Major Avas, that he would wear
tight black stocking-net pantaloons, and a Hessian boot — for the
place of the other boot, ever since he had been wounded, was supplied
by a wooden leg. And it sounded not a little strange to hear him, as
the night drew in, call for his slipper, or, if he fancied he had taken
cold, talk of putting hiBjoot in hot water; and equally curious was it
when his old houskeeper informed him that really his leg was getting
so shabby, he must have it fresh painted. In his bedroom, against
the wall, stood a range of old boots and shoes — all rights and no
lefts — one Hessian, one dancing-pump, and one carpet sli2:)per; and
when he sat down in his chair, his wooden leg stuck out at right
angles to his Hessian boot, so that it had soinewhat tlie appearance
of a gun protruding from a ship's side.

The Major had no fixed residence, (he had to come up from Bath
within the last few weeks, to be present at the opening of the Great
Exhibition,) but continually floated about the country in the company
of an old housekeeper, who knowing all his ways, and all his whims,
had grown to be quite indispensable to him. Mrs. Coddle was the
lady of a defunct twopenny-postman, and since the death of the
respected twopenny, she had " took to uussing;" but not liking
the dormitory accommodations usual in "the monthly line," she
had been only too glad to avail herself of the Major's offer, after
having attended him during a severe bilious fever, to continue ia
his service in the capacity of housekeeper. And so effectually
had she performed her duties, and so necessary had she made
herself to his comfort, during her short residence with him in
that capacity, that — having a true sense of her value to him — she
always made a point, when she could not get the Jlajor to do just as
she pleased, of threatening to leave him, saying she could see
plainly she Avas not wanted, and that he could do "svell enough,
without her now; and adding, as she wiped lier eyes with the corner of
her white apron, that it might be a severe struggle for her to leave so
kind a master as he'd always been to her, but, at least she'd have the

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 85

satisfaction of knowing, wlien slie was gone, that she wouklu't be a
wherreting on him then, no longer.

Mrs. Coddle was a particnlarly clean-looking, motherly body. She
wore the whitest of caps, with very deep borders, and the cleanest of
aprons, while her cotton gowns were of the neatest of patterns ; and
thongh she was close upon sixty, her cheeks Avere almost as rosy as
baking apples. To do her justice, she certainly was a mightily plea-
sant old dame to look at, and she was just one of those persons who,
by saving a gentleman every kind of trouble in life, and seeing that
he has not to make the least exertion to gratify a single want,
mana<i-e to beget such a habit of indolence and dependence in those
upon whom they attend, that their excess of servitude soon gets to
assume the character of the greatest tyranny.

It was the especial care of Mrs. C'oddle that the Major should not
be able to stir his foot, or know where to lay his hands upon the least
article of his own property, without first consulting her — not that she
ever allowed him, indeed, to want for anything that he was in the habit
of requiring. His clean linen, well-aired, and his one sock turned down,
were always ready for him to put on, the morning they were due — and
never, since she had been in the house, had a button been known to be
missing, or to come off in the operation of dressing. His pipe was
on the table ready filled for him, so that he could put it in his mouth
the very moment he had finished his breakfast. When he was
ready to take his morning walk, there was his hat well brushed, and a
clean pair of buckskin gloves, resting on the brim — and when
he returned, the bootjack was on the rug, and his slipper nice and
warm, inside the fender, so that he might not sufi'er from a damp foot.
She never troubled him about what he would have for dinner, for
having made herself acquainted with all his little likings and dis-
likings, slie knew well what to provide, and how to tickle his palate
with a daily change, or to give an extra relish to the meal with some
agreeable surprise; indeed, it was a creed with her — as with most
ladies — that all men were pigs, and that, like their brother animals at
the Zoological Gardens, the only way to prevent them being savage
was to feed them well. And certainly, it must be confessed, that the
!Major, like corpulent gentlemen in general, wius particularly foud of
what is termed " the fat of the land.

At night Mrs. Coddle brewed his toddy for him, and knew exactly
the point in the glass up to which to pour the spirit; and when he
had taken his three tumblers, there stood his bed candlestick at his
elbow, to light him to his room; while on his pillow were his night-
cap and niglit-shirt, ready for him to put on, with the least possible
trouble, and when the bell sounded to tell Mrs. Coddle that the Major
was in bed, the motherly old dame would come and take his candle —
light his rushlight — and sec whether he was (piite comfortable, before
leaving him for the night.

Mrs. Coddle, moreover, made herself useful to her master as a kind
of invisible ini.-^tress of the ceremonies. Major Oldschool's lung absence
from England, and the alteration of many of tli(; ])oints of j)olitenes8,
aiuce he was a " blood upon town," placed the ollicer in considerable

86 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

doubt as to how he ought to behave in the presence of company. Mrs.
Coddle had "nussed," to use the hidy's own words, " in the fust of fami-
lies," for her connexion, as she said, being only among carriage people,
she had heli)ed to bring no less than four cornets into the world in
her time, and, she was happy to say, as there weren't one child among
all her babbies (she had, in her own peculiar language, had as many as
nine confinements every year since poor dear Mr. Coddle"s death),
she was happy to say, as "there wasn't one child of her nussing what could
be called wulgar born." Accordingly, Mrs. Coddle considered herself
so well versed in all the social etiquette of the day, that she acted in
the capacity of fashionable governess to the Major, paying particular at-
tention to his " manners," and taking care that he made what she termed
" no holes in 'em afore wisitors.' If the Major had a friend to tea with
him, she was continually bobbing in and out of the room, with some excuse
or other, just to see how he was " behaving hisself;" and as she passed
behind his chair, she would whisper in his ear, " Don't drink your tea
out of your sarcer, — you know I told you scores of times it aint per-
lite." At dinner, while waiting upon him, she would say at one
moment, as she saw him commit one after another the several little
improprieties of the table, " There you are again, eating your fish with
your knife — how often am I to tell you it's wulgar?" at another, she
would exclaim, "Now, Major, why will you keep scraping your plate
round and round in that there manner, when if there's one thing that
is more ongenteeler than another, that's it ;" then as she saw him about
to lift the glass to his lips, she would take hold of his arm, and beg of
him to swallow his " victuals" first, saying, he had a dreadful habit of
drinking with his mouth full, and that was the most wulgarest trick
of all the tricks he had.

Now, while the scene previously described was going on do^vu stairs
in the kitchen, another single knock " came" to the door. It was one
of the under-clerks from the railway station who had just " stepped
on" to inform the gentleman from the country that his boxes had come
safely to hand. The Official, however, had no time to deliver his mes-
sage; for the Major, who occupied the parlours, and who had just
returned from his morning's walk, overhearing some one in the passage
say that he had come about something that was missing, popped his
white head out of the parlour door, and making sure that some clue
had been obtained to his runaAvay niece, requested the young man
to step that way.

"So, I suppose you've come to tell me, you've got hold of that precious
baggage of mine at last, ehf said the Major, as he paced up and down
the room with delight, and made the floor shake again with the tread
of his wooden leg.

" Yes, sir ; they was bwought up by the fust twain this morning,
sir," said the little gent, as he sucked the horse's hoof that did duty
for a handle to his short stick. "And aware lot you have, sir!"
added the young man, smiling, half in joke, at recollection of the
fchree-and-twenty packages.

" Ah! a rare lot, indeed !" returned the Major, between his teeth, as

MR. AXD MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 87

be siglied, and thouglit of the disgrace brought upon the family by
the conduct of his niece. " Never was such a lot, I think."

'• Why, certingly, sir," replied the " fast" young clerk, who thought
it " spicy" not to be able to sound the r's properly, " it ain't the wegu-
lar caper, certingly. But your lady, like the west of them, sir, pewaps
likes to twavel well pewided. You know, sir, when they're coming
up to the metwopolis, the ladies always will have a change or two."

" A change or two ! hang me, if I don't think they're always chang-
ing !" exclaimed the Major, alluding to the inconstancy rather than
the love of dress, which even the advocates of the " rights of women"
allow to be a distinguishing feature of the sex. " Now, I shouldn't
wonder but what, with all these foreigners here, you have many ' miss-
ing' cases at your place !"

'•' Oh, sir, vewy many cases missing, indeed ; and some of 'em woth
a good sum. Why, there was one wun off with, the other day, chock
full of jewels, sir," added the communicative little clerk, who was
delighted to show off his importance.

" I don't doubt you, my good sir ; those foreign beggars are devils
after the tin," returned the French-hating Major.

" Oh, yes, most of the missing cases with us are tin cases, I can
assure you, sir ; the others, sir, are hardly worth the fellows looking
after, you know; and the worst of it is, sir, that fwequently they
bweak their heads, and plunder them of all that's valualde belonging
to 'em ; and then, maybe, they chuck 'cm into the first river they
come to."

"Bless my soul, you don't say so!" cried the horrified Major; "and
these things going on about us in the nineteenth century !"

" But you need be under no alarm about your lot, sir ; we've looked
well to 'em, and seen that they're pwoperly secured."

" Well, come, that's right — that's some little consolation, at any
rate," exclaimed Major Oldschool, rubbing his hands.

" Yes, sir," proceeded the loquacious railway clerk, " we've had the
biggest done up in stout cords — 'cause we were wather afwaid of him,
on account of his twemendous size and weight."

"Oh, indeed! What, he's one of your big heavy fellows, is he? —
and covered with hair, of course?"

The railway official, fancying the Major referred to one of the boxes,
replied, glibly, " A wegular hair twuiik, sir, and no mistake !"

" Well, I only hope you'll keep the foreign puppy tied up safe, until
I can give him in charge to those who will take good care of him, I
warrant," remarked the Major, still referring to the mustachioed
Count.

The clerk, however, took the word puppy in its literal sense, and
alluding to the greyhound, said —

" Don't make yourself uneasy on that score, sir; we've got a cord
wound the animal's neck, and its (|uite ini])ossil)le fur the cweature to
get away. We've given him some bwead and water, sir, so that lie wont
hurt for a little while."

"That's all right, then," responded Major Oldschool; "bread and
water's quite good enough for him."

88 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

" I can assure you, sir, lie's considered such a handsome dog by all
the ladies as has seen him since his awival, that it's been as much as
we could do to get some of them away fwom him, for they, one and all,
declare that he's the most beautiful Italian they've ever beheld, and
that they've half a mind to wun away with the pet."

"Well," exclaimed the ]\Iajor, "hang me if I can see what the
women can find to admire in the filthy hairy brutes."

'• They say, sir," replied the ofiicial, " he's so wemarkably elegant,
and such a beautiful foxy colour. A lady of title, I can assure you,
sir, told me this vewy morning, that if the beautiful dog Avas hers, the
pet should have nothing but chickens to eat, because meat, she said,
always made their bweath foul."

Here the Major raved and stormed against the fair sex in general,
and his niece in particular, in such a manner as made the youthful
Official stare again in wonder, at the aj)parent unmeaningness of his
conduct.

When the gentleman had grown a little calm, the clerk ventured,
before taking his leave, to say he was instructed to wequest him to
send for that baggage of his as soon as possible.

'Now, the Major, however irate he might have felt against his run-
away niece, was in no way inclined to permit a stranger to apply such
a term to a female member of his family. The consequence was, that
the words were no sooner uttered, than the exasperated soldier rushed
at the terrified young clerk, and shaking him -Nnolently by the collar,
demanded to know what he meant by " baggage."

The youth was only able to stammer out that he alluded to his
" heap," up at their place.

The term "heap," applied to a lady, only served to increase the fury
of the Major; so releasing his hold of the young gentleman's collar,
he proceeded to kick him round and round the room with his
wooden leg.

At this moment, the sound of the policeman's rattle, and the shrieks
of the ladies, were heard from below, and the astonished Major stood
for a minute with his Avooden leg suspended horizontally in the air,
while the terrified young clerk for an instant ceased to fly before the
enraged "man of war." The Major, forgetting his anger in the
alarm, hurried down stairs as fast as his Avooden leg would carry him;
while the little railway official no sooner saw the Major turn the
corner of the kitchen stairs, than he retreated rapidly to the street-
door, and once safely on the step, proceeded to make the best use
of his heels.

The neighbouring policeman, however, who, in answer to the sound
of the rattle, came streaming in all directions towards the spot, ob-
serving the youth flying from the premises, and naturally viewing
the circumstance as of a most suspicious character, raised a cry of
"Stop thief I" and gave immediate chase to the terrified little Clerk. For
a minute, the railway hobbledehoy was undecided as to his course of
action. As he scampered along, he knew not what to do; to
go back was to brave the terrors of the Majoi''s Avooden leg — while to
proceed, was to be hunted through the London streets as a pick-

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 89

pocket. However, his mind was soon made up, for seeing in
the distance a fashionably dressed young hidy, whose ac(iuaintanee he
had made at Cremorne, he couki not bring himself to pass her at full
speed, with a crowd at his lieels, so he turned back and ran into the
arms of the posterior policeman, by whom he was instantly collared,
and dragged towards the house he had left, with a crowd of boys in his
wake.

The scene that followed has already been half described. The
explosion of the double-barrelled blunder was soon over; and then
the little railway clerk was welcomed by the Sandboys as heartily as-
he had been kicked by the Major, while the Detective was as well
received by the Majoi", as he had been insulted by the Sandboys.

CHAPTER IX.

" Oh, man ! oh, man I wliat pity 'tis,
That what we whop our heeghest bliss
Slid disappoint ns ; nay, wliat's worse,
Sae oft turns out a real curse.
It shows nnin's want o' fworeseeght truly,
In not eousiJeran' matters duly."

Tom Knoll.

The delight of the Sandboys at the recovery of their luggage was
not altogether unbroken. If Mrs. Cursty was overjoyed at the
prospect of a "change of linen," still her joy was considerably alloyed
with fear at the continued absence of her dear Jobby. If Elcy
rejoiced exceedingly at the discovery of lier pet Psyche, she was,
nevertheless, deeply afflicted at the thought of some misfortune having
befallen her brother.

The same family consultation as had been previously held concern-
ing the discovery of the missing luggage was now renewed, as to
the best mode of finding the absent boy. Mrs. Sandboys reipiested
to know whether she couldn't have him cried.

Cursty, however, was for putting an advertisement in the Times
such as that newspai)er-l()ving gentleman had seen continually in the
same column of the leading journal, running —

"If this should meet the eye of J. S., of Pjuttermere,

he irf requested to return to his disconsolate parents immediately."

But Mrs. Fokesell suggested that, according to all accounts, the boy
would be but too glad to come back directly, if he only knew the
way.

This was more than the philosophy of Mr. Sandboys had calculated
for. He saw the force of the argument, and, ci»nse(|Utntly, mtidlHed
liis plan of action into a ])ro]jo,sal to have a hundred or two of 1/ills
printed, headed —

90 1851; OR, THE ADVEMTURES OF

"Missing — A Young Gentleman,"

And, after giving a full and flattering description of the lad, to wind
up by announcing that any one Avho should bring him to Mrs.
Fokesell's house, should be handsomkly rewarded for their trouble.

The latter proposition being considered to be unobjectionable by
Mrs. Fokesell, Postlethwaite Avas had in, and the copy of the Avished-
for bill having been written out, amidst considerable altercation on Mrs.
Sandboy's part as to the personal characteristics of the youth, the deaf
serving-man was, after much shouting, made to understand that he
was to take the document to a printer's in an adjoining street, and
leave it there with the note that Elcy, to prevent accidents, had
written to the head of the establishment, requesting him to have the
bills printed and circulated throughout the metropolis, Avith as little
delay as possible.

Postlethwaite was again shouted at so as to make him understand
the road he had to follow; but from the odd jumble that, owing to his
imperfect hearing, he made of the names of the different streets, it
was deemed advisable that the several turnings he had to take, and
the names of the various thoroughfares he had to traverse, should be
written down for him, and then he could make no blunder.

The list having been prepared, the poor deaf man was started on
his errand. But no sooner did the wretched individual emerge into
the Strand, than the crowd and hurry of the dense throng that
streamed along, half in one direction and half in another, so bewil-
dered him, that, as he stood to look at the names of the streets, he
was twisted round and round, first this way and then the other, by
the impatient passengers ; so that, what Avith the novelty of the scene
he felt at the sight of so many vehicles whose approach he kncAv he could
not hear, and what with the jostlings of the people, and the vertigo
su2:ierinduced by the continual gjTations that he Avas forced to make
by the croAvd, the poor man got so confused in his mind, that in a
few minutes it was impossible for him to tell which way he had come
or whither he AA'as going, and the consequence Avas that, AAath the best
possible desire to go right, he proceeded in the very opposite direction
to that Avhich he had been instructed to follow.

It was useless for the poor deaf beetle-like countryman to ask his
way of any of the strangers ; for even in the stillness of home it
required the lungs of a Surrey tragedian to make him comprehend
what Avas said ; but, amid all the roar of the commercial tide of Lon-
don, it Avas sheer AA^aste of breath to endeavour to make the least
impression on his leathery tympanum. Moreover, like the generality
of people Avho are a " little" hard of hearing, he was so eager to hide
his infinnity, and to put those addressing him to as little extra trouble
as possible, that he was ahvays ready to catch at half a meaning,
and consequently, from some faint analogy in the sound, was continu-
ally putting constructions on Avhat was said that Avere diametrically
different from what Avas intended.

Hence it Avas but natural, Avhen poor Postlethwaite requested of the
passers-by to be put in the right way toAv^ards his destination, that he

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 91

was, owing either to liis own infirmity, or to tlie wickedness of the
London boys, invariably sent iu the wrong.

And here, in tlie midst of the London crowd and London roguery,
tossed about from street to lane, from lane to square, and from square
again to pai'k, we must for awliile leave the bewildered and melancholy
serving-man wandering — like Mr. Leigh Hunt's memorable pig — up
" all manner of streets."

Postlethwaite had not been gone long when a policeman brought
Jobby back to his temporary home, but iu a very different state from
that in which he had left it. Mrs. Sandboys herself had to look at
him twice before she could make up her mind that another shameful
trick was not about to be practised upon her iu the form of a false
case of affiliation.

The new suit of clothes which his mother had purchased for the
youth at Cockermouth was gone, and in its place he now wore a
man's ragged old pea-jacket — once blue, but now foxy with age — and
a pair of trousers as wide as Avindsails, and smeared with tar, so that
they bore a strong resemblance to coal-sacks ; while on his head was
a dirty old straw-hat, with a low crown and broad brim, that re-
minded one strongly of an inverted soup-plate. The jacket was tied
together at the button-holes by bits of rope-yarn ; for the miserable
young gentleman had no shirt to his back, nor had a shoe or a
stocking to his feet.

The truth was, as the policeman proceeded to explain to his terri-
fied mother, Master Jobby had been what in the eastern districts of
the Metropolis is technically termed " skinned."

The lad's story was soon told. Led on by the delight of the pos-
turers' performance, he had followed the " School of Acrobats" for
miles. Then he had suddenly lighted upon a Punch and Judy Show,
and this had so tickled his boyish fancy, that he wandered with
it half over London. After this, a street-band of Ethiopian sere-
naders had bewitched him ; their lamp-black faces, their white-paper
wristl)ands and collars, and their fuzzy horsehair wigs, together with
the banjos and kettle-drums, and the rattle of the bones, and the chuckle
of the nigger-laugh, — all wei-e so new and strange to the boy, that he
travelled after them in all directions. Then, as he was growing footsore
with his long rambles, au engine at full speed, witli the horses gallop-
ing, and tlie firemen in their shiny helmets seated along each side of
the machine, went tearing past; and when Jobby saw the people
hurry after it, he, too, joined in the crowd. As he ran along, he asked
some of the mob who accompanied him, what it all meant ; and
learning that a fire was raging down at Shadwell, he hurried on the
quicker and the lighter to see the sight. ]>ut though he kept up with
the crowd through many a street and past many a turning, yet, wheu
he reached the Docks, he began to feel so weary, while the sight of
the forest of masts showing above the walls and roofs, so took his
boyish fancy, that he came to a deatl halt, and letting the engine go
on its way, entered the gates of the London JJoeks.

Here he strolled about, now stopping to listen to the song of the

92 IHoI ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

labourers as they tramped round the wheels that lifted the goods from
the vessels alongside the quay; then he wandered to the sugar-houses,
and watched the coopers within mending the broken casks; and stood
some time at the door, placing his foot stealthily on the sticky floor,
coated, as with tar, with the drainings of the casks. Hence he
samitered to the bridges, and there he loved to stand while the iron
viaduct was swung back with him and the other loiterers upon it, to
make way for some huge emigrant ship, that presently glided through,
with its decks littered with ropes and packages, and the passengers
groujjed at the stern, nodding and waving their handkerchiefs to their
friends down upon the quay. Thus Jobby passed the time till the
hour came for all to leave; and then, following the stream of labourers,
he reached the gates, and there, having Avatched the workmen pass one
by one, in a long file, through the narrow doorway, while the officers
hastily searched each as he went past, the youth turned out into the
streets once more, ignorant where he was, or which way to go to reach
his home.

Now, too, the excitement being over, the youth began for the
first time to feel how tired and hungry he was, and to think of the
distance he had travelled. It was impossible for him to remember
the road by Avhich he had come, so he asked a boy to direct him back
to the Strand. The London lad, seeing that Jobby was fresh from
the country, made up his mind to have a bit of fun with him, and
directed him down some of the many courts and alleys which abound
in that locality, and which generally end in " no thoroughfare."

The unsuspecting Jobby went on his Avay as he was bid ; and when
he found, on coming to the end of the last court, that a trick had been
played upon him, weary and famishing as he was, the poor lad could
not help seating himself on the door-step of the nearest house, and
bursting into a fiood of tears.

Here the wretched youth was soon espied by one of the female
inmates, who, seeing that he Avas well dressed, invited him in, and
drew from him, without much difficulty, the whole story of his
troubles. She offered him some ale, telling him that a draught of
it would be sure to refresh him, and help him on his journey. The
simple lad thankfully received a nnig of the drink, but had scarcely
swallowed it, before his chin fell with a sudden drowsiness upon his
bosom ; and though he started up and tried to shake the sleepiness
off", it was too much for him; and in a few minutes he was dead
asleep in the chair.

Jobby could remember no further, save that, on waking, he found
himself in a Avretched, damp, dirty room, lying on the sacking of a
bare bedstead, and on looking for his clothes, he discovered that they
had been stolen, and the ragged ones he now wore left in their
place. He was too frightened to recollect how he had got away from
the house, or found his way out of the courts. All he knew was, that
on reaching the open street, he had placed himself under the protec-
tion of the first policeman he could meet, who returned with the boy
to see if he could find out the house again, but in vain. The many
■windings and turnings of the courts so confused the country lad, that

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 93

it was impossible for him to recal the way he had gone. After this,
the policeman had taken him to the station, where the superinten-
dent had given orders to one of the men to accompany him home.

Mrs. Sandboys was too glad to have her darling boy with lier once
again to feel inclined either to grieve or scold overmuch about his
adventures; besides, she now knew the luggage would arrive in a
few hours, and then he and the rest of the family could be made
clean and sweet, which, she began to think, they were far from being
at that present moment.

Mr. Sandboys, too, was not so much annoyed at the occurrence as
might have been expected. Not only was he delighted at the boy's
return, but he felt a kind of inward satisfaction to find that his long-
cherished theory as to the wickedness of the great Metroi)olis was
being, in all its particulars, so fully borne out. He had foreseen, he
said, every occurrence that had happened, but they had only them-
selves to blame. He had fully warned tliem of all they had to
undergo ; and, in his opinion — if he knew anything at all about the
rogueries of London — they had not yet gone through one tithe of
the troubles that were in store for them.

Cursty's sermonizing was at last cut short by the arrival of the
long looked-for luggage. Then Mrs. Sandboys was in her glory.
If ladies delight in the synthetical operation of packing, they certainly
find an equal delight in the analytical jjrocess of unpacking — even as
children take })leasure in building up their card-houses, and a like
pleasure in blowing them down again.

It was not long before j\[rs. Sandboys, with Elcy at her elbow, was
down on her knees in the kitchen, in front of a long open box, counting
the several articles enumerated on a piece of paper gummed to the
lid, to satisfy herself that none had been abstracted during their
absence. And as she examined the state of her best caps and bonnets,
she found them so tumbled, that she felt thoroughly convinced they
had been worn by some parties — the wives of the railway men, she had
no doubt — or why, as she said, should they have kept them so long-
on the way?

N(jr was the j)leasure of going over " her things" confined to Mrs.
Sandboys alone, for even the maid and Mrs. Fokesell, though in no
way concerned, seemed to experience a similar delight in the opera-
tion; for there they stood by her side, watching and admiring every
article as she took it from the box.

At length, having looked out the much-wished-ior, or ratlu'r,
according to the lady, the much-wanted " change," for the whole
family, she gave them each their bundle of clean clothes, and having
arranged with Mrs. Fokesell that they might be allowed the use
of the back attic, as a temporary dressing-room, during the absence of
the (jierman IWon and his lady, Cursty was started up stairs and
told by his wife to make as much haste as possible, for really she
wa.s getting alarmed about Tostlctliwaite, and slie wanted !Mr, Sand-
])oys immediately that he had " tiilied" himself to step round to the
jjrinter'b and try and Icaru whatever had become of the poor man.

94 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

In a few minutes Mr. Sandboys returned to the kitchen, clad in his
best suit, to receive the opinion of his wife as to the improved cha-
racter of his appearance. Mrs. Sandboys twisted her "guidnian" round
and round, tried to pull the wrinkles out of his coat behind, pinched
up the frill of his shirt, and ultimately pronounced that she thought
he would do — at least, thank guidness, she said he was clean and
sweet once more. Then, having kissed him, she despatched him on
his errand after the deaf Postlethwaite.

Mrs. Sandboys Avas still engaged in the interesting process of
unpacking her trunks in the kitchen, when a hawker of flowers, Avith
a basket of all colours on his head, stopped before the railings, and
observing the lady down stairs, immediately commenced crying —
" Fine flowers ! sweet-scented flowers ! handsome flowers ! — all
a-blowing — all a-growing !"

Elcy, observing the bright scarlet blossoms of the geraniums, and the
long crimson drops of the fuchsias swinging backwards and forwards
in the Avind, and the pink balls of roses, nodding at every m.otion of
the huckster's head, called out to her mother to come and see what
beautiful plants the man had got.

The street-seller no sooner caught sight of Mrs. Sandboys, than he
shouted again — " Fine floAvers ! SAveet-scented flowers. Take any old
clothes for 'em, ma'am. You may have the pick of the basket for an
old coat."

Mrs. Sandboys shook her head, but the street-seller seeing her still
look up, put his basket down on the pavement, and began trying to
have a deal with her down the area railings.

" NoAv's your time, ladies," he cried, " you can have this here moss-
rose for an old Aveskit, or a pair of satin shoes. I^ow's your time, ladies;
all a-blowing! all a-growing!"

Elcy, at her mother's request, stepped out into the area to tell the
man that they didn't Avant any.

But the cunning dealer having once got the gii'l into conversation,
handed her doAvn a pot of mignionette, and begged her just to put her
nose to that there. As she snifted at the fragrant floAvers, the man
said he'd accept of anything, he didn't mind Avhat it Avas, hoAV old or
how dirty, for he had not taken a penny all that day. Any old
troAVsers, Miss, if you'll tell your ma, or an old hat, or a pair of boots
— it's all the same. Miss ; though they a'n't no use to you, they're as
good as money to us. Take that there pot in to your ma, Miss, and
ax her just to put her nose to it, and then say Avhether she doesn't
think such a nosegay as that there a'n't Avorth an old straw bonnet, or
some Avhite linen rags."

Elcy trotted in Avith the plant, vowing that she had never in all
her life seen such beautiful floAvers as the man had in his basket, —
the geraniums quite made her eyes ache to look at them ; and then
she told her mother that the man said he AA'ould take anything for them,
even old rags.

The novelty of the transaction, the beauty of the plants, and the
seeming Avondcrful cheapness of them, all produced such an effect
upon Mrs. Sandboy's mind, that she began to consider what useless

MK. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 95

article she had •with her that she could ofter the man in exchanr^e for
one of them.

After much cogitation, they both came to the conclusion that the
trowsers which Mr. Sandboys had worn in the morning were too
shabby for him to put on in London; they were the " old thino-s"
said his wife, " which he had split to pieces in going after that tiresome
pig, and which, on second thoughts, she had considered quite good
enough for him to travel in ; and now, as the new ones she had bought
him at Cockermouth had come to hand, why, there was no necessity
for her keeping the others any longer; and she knew very well, imless
she got rid of the nasty, shabby old things, Cursty would be making
his apj^earance in them some day; whereas if she took them out in
flowers, it would prevent his ever wearing them again.

The determination once formed, Mrs. Sandboys motioned the
flower-seller to the street-door, Avhile Elcy was despatched to fetch
the trowsers that her father had recently taken off.

The street-seller, on seeing the garments, declared that they Avere
hardly worth putting in his basket, and carrying home. " If the
lady had got an old coat, he'd let her have that there handsome fucshia
for it, 'cause the skirts Avas valuable — let it be ever so nmch worn —
for making cloth caps for boys, and the officers in the army; or, he
wouldn't mind chucking in that partic'lar fine 'artsease for an old
weskit, for they came in handy for parsons' gaiters, but trowsers was
no account at all; however, he didn't like to be hard with the ladies
so he"d give 'em that there lovely Chaney rose for the trowsers and
a silver sixpence."

Mrs. Sandboys, however, was woman of the world enough to be a
good bargainer ; so, as fast as the huckster decried her husband's old
breeches, she did the same for the street-seller's floAvers. In due
commercial style each professed to be equally careless about dealing
with the other, and yet each was equally anxious for the bargain.

At length, after much haggling, it was agreed that Mrs. Sandboys
should have a pot of mignionette and a couple of cut moss-roses for
the garment ; whereupon the old trowsers were transferred to the
flower-seller's long black bag, and the flowers to the care of
3Irs. Sandboys.

Immediately the man had closed the door, the native of Buttermcrc
hastened to Mrs. Fokesell to show her the bargain she had effected ;
and while the ladies were engaged in sniffing one after another at
the delicious perfume of the blossoms, a violent knock came to the
door, and in a minute the breathless Mr. Sandboys stood ])anting
before his wife.

Presently he exj)Iained, by snatches between his gasps, how he had
got into an omniljus on his way to the station house to wliieli .l<)l)l)y
had been taken by the policeman, for, as he said, he considered t}int
would be the best place to obtain tidings of any missing party —
and liow, aftfjr having ridden a short distanct?, lie liad put his hand
into his j)ocket to feel for his money, and discovered to his horror
that Ik; had come out without any. 'J'lic eonse<|uen('(! was, he pro-
ceeded to Bay, that he hud to stop the 'buii and ucc^uaiut the conductor

86 Iftol; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

witli Ills misfortune ; wliereupdu the man abused liim in the most
shameful manner, and coHared him in the miihlle of the road, saying
he was a hoary-headed okl cheat, and it would serve him rij^ht if he
knocked his head oti" liis shouklers, as a lesson to him for the future —
and ]\Ir. Sandboys wound u\) by declaring he verily believed the fellow
would have done it, too, if it hadn't been that, as luck would have it,
he had taken his silk mnbrella Avith him; which, after a good deal of
trouble, he had got the man to consent to hold as security for the fare.

When !Mr. Sandboys had hnished his story, his wife asked him how
he could be such a simi)letou as to leave his money behind him, and
requested to be informed where he had it.

" In t' pockets of mey auld breeks," responded the innocent Cursty.

The words came upon his dear Aggy like a thunderclap. As the
lady said afterwards, " any one might have knocked her down with a
feather."' Elcy stared at her mother, and the mother stared at the
daughter, in a maze of bewilderment. Neither liked to confess the
truth to Cursty, and yet to delay doing so was every minute to dimi-
nish the probability of obtaining possession of the precious garments
again.

At length Mrs. Sandboys did venture to break the matter to her
husband. She told him she had disposed of his trowsers only a few
moments before his return for a pot of mignionette and a couple of
moss roses.

" Well, Aggy,' cried Cursty, when he had recovered from the first
shock, " thee'il have to suffer for't as well as meysel for forty t' notes
I'd got in t' pocket book, thar was thy marriage lines that thee wud
mek me bring up wi' me, to show thee wast an honest woman, if ever
thee sud want as much."

" Waistoma ! waistoma !" cried poor Mrs. Sandboys, when she heard
of this, to her, the greatest loss of all. At first she raved against
London, and London people, and London wickedness. Then she
declared it was all Cursty 's fault, and owing to his nasty idle habits
of never emptying his pockets, when he changed his clothes, but
leaving everything to her to do. Next, she vowed she would go back
to Buttermere that very night, for nothing but misery had befallen
her ever since they had made up their mind to enjoy themselves.

However, when her anger had somewhat exhausted itself, she
entreated her own dear Cursty to hasten after the fiower-seller. The
man could not be far off, unless he had discovered the prize he had got,
and decamped with it to some other part of the town ; but she was
idmost certain he had not felt anything in the pockets at the time he
was looking the trowsers over in the passage, or else he would have
been more anxious to have purchased them than he was.

Mr. Sandboys she directed to go one way, and Jobby another;
for if her marriage lines were really gone, it was impossible to tell
what might happen.

In obedience to her commands, Cursty and Jobby were soon out of
the house, exploring every street and corner in quest of the flower-
seller.

And here, we must, reader, for the present drop the curtain.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SAMDBOYS. 97

CHAPTER X.

" Here mirth and merchandise are mix'd,
There trick -wi' tumult rages;
Here fraud an* ignorance are fix'd,
An' sense wi' craft engages.

" Here pedlars frae a' pairts repair,

Beatli Yorkshire beytes and Scotch fwoak ;
An' Paddeys wi' their feyne lin' ware,

Tho' a' deseyned to botch fwoak.
*****
" Here's Yorkshire impudence, d'e see,
Advaucin' for a brek,
Just askin' threyce as much as he

Kens he'll consent to tek.
' Here, maister, buy a coat doith here,

Ye's have it chep, believe me ;
'Tis of the foinest 'ool, I swear.
Mon, think ye I'd deceive ye ?' "

Eosley Fair, by John Slagc/.

We left Mr. Sandboys engaged in the interesting occupation of
hunting after his lost inexpressibles — the very inexpressibles which
his wife had mended previous to his departure from Buttermere, and
which that lady had since exchanged, together with forty pounds in
bank notes and her own marriage certificate in the pockets, for a pot
of mignionette and a couple of cut roses.

His son Jobby, too, was employed upon the same agreeable mission ;
but the researches of the youth were neither vigorous nor profitable,
for remembering the unpleasant issue of his previous wanderings in
the metropolis, he feared to travel far from the domestic precincts of
Craven Street, lest his rambles might end in his being flayed;
stripped of his cloth cuticle — his sartorial integuments, once more;
the timid boy therefore kept pacing to and fro within view of his own
knocker, or if he allowed the domestic door-step to fade from his
sight, he did so only when at the heels of the proximate Policeman.

Mr. Cursty, however, was far more venturesome. He thought of
his lost bank notes and missing marriage certificate, and what with
the matter o' money and the matrimony, he rushed on, determined
not to leave a paving nor a Hag-stone untrodden throughout the
streets of London, till he regained possession of his lost treasures.
Ho away he went, as the nortli country people say, " tapi)y lappy,"
with his coat laps Hying "helter-skelter," as if he were "heighty-
Highty.'

Up and down, in and out of all the neighbouring streets lie
hurried, stopping only to ask of the passers-by whether they had inct
a hawker of Howers on their way. Not a public-house in the neigh-
bourhood but he entered to search and iiuinire after tiu! missing
Hower-Hcller ; and when he had explored every adjacent thoronghiarc,
and bar, and taproom, and, after all, grown none the wiser, and go

Ji

98 1851; OR. the adventures of

none the nearer to the wliereabouts of the floral " distributor," he
proceeded to unbosom himself respecting the nature and extent of his
losses to the police on duty, and to consult with them as to the
best means of recovering his notes and " marriage lines."

All the " authorities" whom he spoke to on the subject, agreed
that the only chance he had of ever again setting eyes on his
property, was of proceeding direct to the Old Clothes Exchange in
Houndsditch, whither the purchasers of the united " left off wearing
apparel " of the metropolis and its suburbs daily resort, to get " the
best price given for, their old rags."

Accordingly, Mr. Cursty Sandboys, having minutely copied down,
in order to prevent mistakes — for his care increased with each fresh
disaster — the name and description of the locality which he was
advised to explore, called a cab, and (hrected the driver to convey
him, with all possible speed, to the quarter in which the left-off
apparel market was situated.

He was not long in reaching the desired spot. The cabman drew
up at the end of the narrow passage leading to the most fashionable
of the Old Clothes Marts, and Mr. Sandboys having paid the driver
well for the haste he had made, proceeded at once to plunge into the
vortex of the musty market.

Outside the gateway stood the celebrated " Barney Aaron," the
hook-nosed janitor, with his hook-nosed son by his side — the father
ready to receive the halfpenny toll from each of the buyers and sellers
as he entered the Exchange, and the youth with a leathern pouch
filled with "coppers," to give as change for any silver that might be
tendered.

As Cursty passed through the gate, the stench of the congregated
old clothes and rags and hareskins was almost overpowering. The place
stank like a close damp cellar. There was that peculiar sour smell in
the atmosphere which appertains to stale infants, blended with the
milde\vy odour of what is termed " mother" — a mixture of mouldi-
ness, mustiness, and fustiness, that was far from pleasant in the
nostrils.

Scarcely had Cursty entered the Mart before he was surrounded by
some half-dozen eager Jews, some with long grizzly beards, and
others in greasy gaberdines — each seizing him by the arm, or pulling
him by his coat, or tapping him on the shoulder, as they one and all
clamoured for a sight of whatever he might have to sell.

" Ha' you cot any preaking f asked one who bought old coats to
cut up into cloth caps — " cot any fushtian — old cordsh — or old
pootsh?"

" I'm shure you've shometing vot will shoot me," cried another.

" You know me," said a third — " I'm little Ikey, the pest of puyersh,
and always give a cood prishe."

Such was the anxiety and eagerness of the Israelites, that it was
more than Mr. Sandboys could do to force his way through them, and
it was not until a new-comer entered with a sack at his back, that

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 99

they left him to hurry off and feel the old clothes-bag, as they cla-
moured for first peep at its contents.

Once in the body of the Market, Cursty had time to look well
about him, and a curious sight it was — perhaps one of the most
curious in all London. He had never heard, never dreamt of there
being such a place. A greater bustle and eagerness appear to rage
among the buyers of the refuse of London, than among the traders in
its most valuable commodities.

Here, ranged on long narrow wooden benches, which extended
from one side of the market to the other, and over which sloped a
narrow, eaves-like roofing, that projected sufficiently forward only to
shelter the sitter from the rain, were to be seen the many merchants
of the streets — the buyers of hareskins — the bone-grubbers, and the
rag-gatherers — the "bluey-hunters," or juvenile purloiners of lead — the
bottle collectors — the barterers of crockery-ware for old clothes — the
flower-swoppers — the umbrella menders — and all the motley fraternity
of petty dealers and chapmen. Each had his store of old clothes — or
metal — or boots — or rags — or bonnets — or hats — or bottles — or hare-
skins — or umbrellas, spread out in a heap before him.

There sat a barterer of crockery and china, in a bright red plush
waistcoat and knee breeches, with legs like balustrades, beside his
half-emptied basket of " stone-ware," while at his feet lay piled the
apparently worthless heap of rags and tatters, for which he had
exchanged his jugs, and cups, and basins. A few yards from him
was a woman done up in a coachman's drab and many-caped box-
coat, with a pair of men's cloth boots on her feet, and her limp-
looking straw-bonnet flattened down on her head, as if with repeated
loads, while the ground near her was strewn with hare-skins, some old
and so stiff that they seemed frozen, and the fresher ones looking
shiny and crimson as tinsel. Before this man was a small mound
of old cracked boots, dappled with specks of mildew — beside that
one lay a hillock of washed-out light waistcoats, and yellow stays, and
straw-bonnets half in shreds. Farther on was a black-chinned and
lantern-jawed bone-grubber, clad in dirty greasy rags, with his wallet
emptied on the stones, and the bones and bits of old iron and pieces
of rags that he had gathered in his day's search, each sorted into dif-
ferent piles before him ; and as he sat waiting anxiously for a pur-
chaser, he chewed a piece of mouldy pie-crust, that he had picked up
or had given him en his rounds. In one part of the Exchange was to
be perceived some well-known tinker behind a heap of old battered
saucepans or metal teapots, side by side with an umbrella mender, in
front of whom lay a store of whalebone ribs and sticks. Li another
quarter might be seen the familiar face of some popular pccp-shownian,
with his "back-show" on the form on one side of him, while on the
other were ranged the phy.sic phials and wine bottles and glass pickle
jars that he had taken of the children for a .sight at his exhibition ;
and next to him was located a fiower-seller, with his basket emptied
of all its blooming and fragrant contents, with the exception of one

u 2

100 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

or two of the more expensive plants, and the places of the missing
flowers filled with coats, waistcoats, boots, and hats.

To walk down the various passages between the seats, and run the
eye over the several heaps of refuse, piled on the ground like trea-
sure, was to set the mind wondering as to what could possibly be the
uses of each and every of them. Everything there seemed to have
fulfilled to the very utmost the office for which it was made ; and
now that its functions were finished, and it seemed to be utterly
worthless, the novice to such scenes could not refrain from marvelling
what remaining purpose could possibly give value to "the rubbish."

The buyers, too, were as picturesque and motley a group almost as
were the sellers — for the purchasers were of all nations, and habited
in every description of costume. Some were Greeks, others were
Swiss, while others were Germans. Some had come there to buy up
the old rough charity clothing, and the army grey great-coats, for the
" Irish" market ; others had come to purchase the hareskins or old
furs, or to give "the best price" for old tea-pots and tea-urns. One
man, with a long flowing beard and greasy tattered gaberdine, was
said to be worth thousands • thither he had come to add another six-
pence to his hoard, by dabbling in the rags and refuse, strewn about
the ground in heaps, for sale : others were there to purchase the old
WeUingtons, and to have them new-fronted or their cracks heel-balled
over, and then vended to clerks, who are " expected to appear respect-
able" on the smallest salaries. That Jewess is intent on buying up
the left-off" wardrobes " of the nobility," so as to dispose of the faded
finery to the actresses of the minor theatres, or the "gay" ladies of
the upper boxes. Yonder old Israelite, who goes prowling between
the seats, is looking out for such black garments as will admit of
being "clobbered" up, or "turned" into " genteel suits" for poor
curates, or half-paid ushers of classical academies. Nor does he
reject those which are worn even threadbare in parts, for he well
knows they will admit of being transformed into the " best boys'
tunics ; " while such as are too far gone for that, he buys to be torn
to pieces by the "devil," and made up again into new cloth, or
" shoddy," as it is termed ; and others, which his practised eye tells
him have already done that duty, he bids for, knowing that they will
still fetch him a good price, even as manure for the ground. Some
of the buyers have come principally to purchase the old silk hats —
and as they wander among the heaps of old clothes, and rags, and
metal, they stop every now and then, and crumple up the shapes in
their hands to try whether they have been — as they call it — " through
the fire or not," and those which will stand the test of their expe-
rienced touch, they buy for the shops, to have converted into the
" best new hats" for the country. Some, again, are there chiefly to
" pick up" the old umbrellas, which they value not only for the
whalebone ribs but the metal supporters — the latter articles furnish-
ing the material for the greater part of the iron skewers of London;
while some of the buyers, on the other hand, have come to look after
the old linen shirts, which they sell again to the paper-mills, to be

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 101

converted, by the alchemy of scieuce, into the newspaper, the best
" Bath post," or even the bank-note.

As the purchasers go pacuig up and down the narrow pathways,
and pick their way, now among the old bottles, bonnets, boots, rags,
and now among the bones, the old metal, the stays, the gowns, the
hats and coats, a thick-lipped Jew-boy spouts from his high stage
in the centre of the market, " Hot vine a ha'penny a clarsh ! a
ha'penny a clarsh !" Between the seats, too, women worm their way
along, carrying baskets of " trotters" and screaming, as they go, " Legs
of mutton two for a penny! two for a penny! Who'll give me a
handsell ? — who'll give me a handsell 1" After them comes a man
with a large tin can under his arm, and roaring, " Hot peas, oh !
hot peas, oh !" In the middle of the market is another vender of
street luxuries, with a smoking can of " hot eels" before him, and
next to him is a sweetmeat stall, with a crowd of young Hebrews
gathered round the keeper of it, gambling eagerly, with marbles, for
" Albert rock" and " hardbake j" while at one end of the market stands
a coftee and beer-shop, and inside this are Jews playing at draughts,
or settling and wrangling about the goods they have bought of one
another.

In no other part of London — and, perhaps, in no other part of the
entire world — is such a scene of riot, rags, and filth to be -witnessed.
Ever}- one there is dressed in his worst — for none who know the
nature of the jdace would think of venturing thither in even decent
apparel.

Mr. vSandboys was the universal object of observation. What IbC
could have to do in such a place, every one was puzzling his brains
to think ; and as Cursty hurried up and down between the seats,
in the hopes of catching a glimpse of his lost inexpressibles, the
buyers and sellers, one and all delighted, as he passed, to crack some
rude jest upon him. The women wished to know whether he wasn't
hunting after a " nice pair of stays" for his "missus j" the men would
hold up some faded livery, and request to be informed whether he
was looking for " an 'andsomc suit for his Johnny." But, regardless of
their gibes, round and round, like the hyena at the Surrey Gardens,
Mr. .Sandboys went, in the hope of eventually lighting on his precious
nether garments. Not a fiower-seller entered the place but Cursty
watched him intently, until he had seen every article turned out of his
bag, and satisfied liimself that the anonymous part of his apparel
fonned no j)ortion of the man's left-off stores.

Nor did lie think of moving from the place until all the buyers and
sellers had (juittetl it ; and when the hour arrived for closing the
gates, Cursty hardly knew what course of action to adopt.

At one time it struck him that it would not be a bad plua
to do as Aladdin did when he lost his " wonderful lamp," and go
round the town crying, " New breeches for old ones ;" but, on second
thoughts, he perceived that, however feasible such a plan might
have been in liagdad, it was far from practi(;uble in London ; lor he
felt satisfied, from the universal habit of wearing such articles of dreSH

102 1851 ; OK, THE ADVENTURES OF

among the male portion of the metropolitan population — (and, indeed,
among not a few of the married females) — that the Londoners' love
of a good bargain, no matter at whose cost, would render them so
particularly anxious to make the exchange, that the business he would
be likely to do in one street alone would be sufficient, not only to
ruin him in pocket, but to break his back with the burden. If the
lady denizens of the capital were to be attracted to the linen-drapers'
establishments, solely by the enlivening inducement that somebody
was to be ruined by their custom — if, like the Hindoo widows, they
delighted in " awful sacrifices," (at any other persons' expense than
their own) how eager, thought the philosophic Cursty, would wives of
Loudon be to deal with him, when they imagined that they could
breech their husbands by stripping him of all he had.

After revolving in his mind many equally sagacious plans for the
recovery of his precious pantaloons, Mr. Cursty decided that, perhaps,
the wisest course to pursue, under all the circumstances, would be to
return to his temporary domicile, and there consult with his wife as
to the future mode of action. Accordingly, he hailed the first
omnibus travelling Strandward, that passed him, and depositing him-
self within it, was once more on his way towards home.

While Mr. Sandboys, fagged out with his unprofitable and weari-
some day's work, is dozing away the distance from Whitechapel to
the Strand in the corner of the long " short stage," let us take
advantage of that uneventful interval to communicate the circum-
stances that had occurred during his absence to mar again the peace
and happiness of his family.

Some three or four hours had elapsed after that gentleman's depar-
ture from home, when Mrs. Fokesell " bounced" breathless into the
back attic, which now constituted the sitting-room, bed-room, dressing-
room, and kitchen, of the united Sandboys.

" Oh, mum," the landlady exclaimed, gasping as she wiped her
forehead with the corner of her dirty pink cotton apron ; " 0 — oh,
mum ! here's a man come from the Station-'us."

" From t' Station-house !" echoed Mrs. Sandboys, who had hardly
had time to recover the shock of the sudden entry of Mrs. Fokesell ;
but, on second thoughts, imagining the messenger had brought her
tidings of the missing garments, she added : " So then, thank
guidness, they've caught t' man with t' flowers and t' trousers at last."

"They've caught your man, you means, mum," returned Mrs.
Fokesell, shaking her head till the little bunch of vermicular
ringlets at each side of her face swung backwards and forwards, like
the " wings" of a kite in the wind.

" My man ! " ejaculated the terrified Agg)^, as she began to have a
vague perception that " something dreadful" had occurred to her
beloved Cursty. " What in t' warl' do'sta mean — what do'sta mean?"

" Why, it's just this here, mum — that your good man, as you call
him" — here thecircumspect landlady opened the room-door mysteriously,
to satisfy herself that nobody was listening, and then closing it again,

MR. AND >niS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 103

advanced towards Mrs. Sandboys, and said, in a half-whisper, " your
good man has been and got took up for being drunk and disorderly,
and oncapable of taking care of hisself."

Mrs. Sandboys threw up her hands, and dropped into the nearest
chair ; while Elcy came and leant over and tried to assure her that
" it must be some shocking mistake again."

But Mrs. Fokesell would not hear of such a thing ; she had made
most particular inquiries of the "party" below — for at first, she
herself could hardly bring herself to believe that such a thorough
gentleman, as Mr. Sandboys always appeared to be, could so
lower hisself as to be seen intosticated in the public streets — but
there couldn't be no mistake this time, because the "party" had
brought one of the " gent's" cards with him. And when she heard
Mrs. Sandboys and Elcy both sobbing at the intelligence, the land-
lady begged of them " not to go and take on in that manner," for
after his last voyage, Mr. Fokesell hisself — though he was as good a
man as ever walked in shoe-leather, so long as he was at sea out of
harm's way — had gone and got overtook by liquor, and been skinned
and robbed of everything he had, for all the world like young
Mr. Sandboys was, by them painted dolls nigh the docks, and, as if
that wasn't enough to ruin her peace of mind, he must get hisself
fined two pounds, or ten days imprisonment, for an assault on a police-
man. Here the lady digressed into a long account of Mr. Foke-
sell's failings, saying, that ever since their marriage she had never
been a penny the better for his money, and that she didn't know what
would have become of her if it hadn't been for her lodgers and the
rent of a six-roomed cottage, that had been left her by her fust
husband, who was an undertaker with a large connexion, but a weak,
though an uncommon fine man, and who might have made her very
comfortable at his death, if he had only done by her as he ought.
Whereupon, wholly forgetting the object of her errand to Mrs. Sand-
boys, she further digressed into a narrative of the mixed qualities of
Mr. Bolsh's — her poor dear first husband's — character.

Mrs. Cursty, who had been too deeply absorbed in her own family
misfortunes to listen to those of Mrs. Fokesell, at length, on recover-
ing her self-possession, reciuestcd to be informed where Mr. Sandboys
had been " picked up " previous to being taken into custody.

The landlady, anxious to produce as great a sensation as she could,
made no more ado, but informed her that her " good man" had been
found lying on his back in a gutter in Wild Street, Drury Lane, and
that it was a mercy that he hadn't been druv over by one of them
Safety Cabs as was dashing along, as they always does, at the risk of
people's lives.

The circumstance of the messenger having brought Cursty 's card with
him was sufficient to preclude all doubt from Mrs. Sandboys' mind ;
nevertheless she sat for a miimte or two wondciiiig liow the mis-
fortune couhl i)OHsibly have happened. Atone nioniciit she iniaginod
that the loss of his bank iiotes liad prodnccd so tlepressing an cHcct
OD his spirits that Cursty had gone into some tavern to procure a ghws

101 1^51; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

of wine, in the hopes of cheering himself up amid his many misfor- ■
tunes, and being unaccustomed to take anything of the kind before
dinner, had perhaps been suddenly overcome by it. The next minute
she felt satisfied that he had been entrapped into some dreadful place
and drugged, like poor dear Jobby. Then she began to ask herself
"whether he could have lighted upon any friend from Cumberland,
and in the excitement of the meeting been induced to take a glass
or two more than he otherwise would ; and immediately after this
she felt half convinced t)iat Cursty had discovered the flower-sellcj-,
and been so delighted at recovering possession of his pocket-book,
that he had accompanied the fellow to some " low place" to treat
him, and there, perhaps, been imprudent enough to take a glass of
hot spirits and water " on an empty stomach," and that this had
flown to his head, and rendered him quite insensible to everything
around him ; or else she was satisfied that it was owing to the nasty
bit of red herring which he would have that morning for breakfast.

AVheu Mrs. Sandboys communicated to Mrs. Fokesell the several
results of her ruminations, that lady was far from being of the same
opinion, and did not hesitate to confess that she had long been convinced
that the men were all alike, and that, for herself, she wouldn't trust
anyone of them — and especially her Fokesell — further than she could
see him.

Mrs. Sandboys, however, was in no humour to listen to such
harangues, and starting from her seat, desired to know whether the
messenger from the station-house was still below stairs, so that she
might accompany him back to her husband. On being answered in
the affirmative, she proceeded to " put on her things" with all speed,
while Elcy, with her eyes still full of tears, implored to be allowed to
go with her.

When her toilet was finished, she kissed her gentle- hearted daughter
previous to leaving her (for it was not fit, she said, that young girls
should visit such places), and bidding her dry up her tears, for that all
would yet be right, she hastened down the stairs, and in a minute
afterwards she was on her way, in company with the messenger,
towards Bow-street station-house.

The reader must not do poor Mr. Sandboys the injustice to
imagine that he had so far forgotten himself as to have made a
pillow of one of the metropolitan kerb-stones. Nor was he, at the
time referred to, the temporary tenant of one of the Bow-street police
cells; for that much maligned gentleman, far from being then in
"durance vile," was still enjoying a disjointed kind of nap in the
corner of the Mile-end ombibus.

Let us explain.

The flower-seller, immediately on handling the discarded inex-
pressibles of Mr. Christopher Sandboys, had discovered that one of
the pockets was not wholly empty ; and though he was sufficiently
alive to the impositions occasionally practised upon members of his
fraternity by coachmen, grooms, footmen, and others, to be well

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 105

aware that articles — especially buttons and pieces of silver-paper — were
frequently inserted in the fob of cast-off" pantaloons, with the view of
leading them to imagine that either some notes or coin had been
accidentally left in the garments by their late innocent possessors,
and so inducing them to give a higher sum for the articles than
they were really worth — the flower-seller was, nevertheless, we say,
too fully satisfied of the thorough rusticity and consequent simplicity
of Mrs. and Miss Sandboys, to believe that they could be capable of
any such trick. The hawker, too, was clever tradesman enough to
lead Mrs. Sandboys to suppose that he was in no way anxious to
become the purchaser of the articles offered to him ; and he was par-
ticularly careful, as he turned the garments over and over to examine
them, never to allow either of the pockets to fall under the notice of
Mrs. Sandboys.

As soon as the bargain was settled, and the street seller of flowers
had got fairly out of sight of the house, he was joined by the female
who usually accompanied him on his rounds, and of whose services he
occasionally availed himself when any feminine article of dress was
proffered for exchange. To her the hawker did not hesitate to make
known his impression that he had got a " prize." Accordingly, the
two retired up the first court they came to on their way from the
house, to examine what it was that the pockets really contained.
The pocket-book was soon had out — each compartment being care-
fully searched — and when the roll of notes was found, their glee knew
no bounds; but the woman, who acted as interpreter on the occasion
— the man himself being unable to read — was perhaps even more
delighted when she discovered the certificate of Mr. and Mrs. Sand-
boys' marriage at Lorton Yale Church, in Cumberland; for, though
not attaching a particularly high moral value to the h^'meneal cere-
mony, she thought, knowing the prejudices of society in this respect,
that the possession of such a document might prove of some little
service to her on some future occasion. When, therefore, the two came
to divide the proceeds of their good fortune, the lady stipulated that
the marriage certificate should be hers, and that in consideration of this,
she said her mate might take three of the notes, and she woidd be
satisfied with two. This appeared so advantageous an arrangement to
the gentleman, that, caring nothing for the possession of the " lines," he
immediately closed with the offer.

The arrangement, however, was far from being so advantageous as
it appeared ; for the lady, on proceeding to divide the treasure,
availed herself of her " mate's" want of education, so as, while giving
him the greater number of notes, to retain for herself those of the
higher value. Acconlingly she handed him over three fives out of
the forty, keeping a twenty and a five for her own portion. It was
then settled between them that the man should proceed to the Old
Exchange and dispose of the contents of his bag, while his j)artner
8hould return home and geta l)it of' summut piirtieulnr g(^od" against
his arrival.

The seii.->e of being the possessor of so large a sum of money, was

106 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

too great a temptation for the hawker's slender sobriety to withstand;
while the treasure remained in his pocket, he could hardly assure
himself of its woi'th, for people of his grade in life have generally an
utter want of faith in the value of what appears to them to be
nothing more than a strip of silver paper. Besides, he thought it
would be prudent to " run for gold" as soon as possible, for he well
knew that the current coin of the realm, unlike bank notes, bore no
numbers by winch one sovereign or shilling could be distinguished
from another.

A variety of circumstances, therefore, conspired to lead the man
into the first public-house he came to. Here he entered the tap-
room, and placing his basket of flowers on the seat beside him, called
for a pint of " dog's nose" — a combination of gin and beer, to which
the gentleman was particularly partial.

This had the effect of rendering the hawker indisposed for prosecut-
ing his journey to Houndsditch, What was the use, he began to
ask himself, of his going all that way to sell a few rags, when he
didn't want for a pound or two? Accordingly, as the liquor got to
make him feel more and more careless, he commenced tossing and
raffling away the remaining flowers in his basket, among such as entered
the tap- room during his stay there ; and while the gambling was going
on, he partook of a second and a third quantum of his favourite
potion, so that, by the time he had got rid of all his plants, he felt in-
clined to enjoy himself, and disposed to go anywhere but home. StUI,
however, he entertained some little difiiculty respecting his costume,
which certainly was not fitted for holiday-making, for, like the rest of
the old clothes' dealers, he was habited in his Avorst, Avith the view of
attending the Houndsditch Exchange at the close of his day's labours;
and as he ran over to himself the several places of amusement that
he should like to vnsit, he debated in his own mind as to Avhat he
should do for a " change." To return home and put on his brown
Petersham coat and bright " yellow kingsman " neckerchief, that he
delighted to sport in Battersea Fields on a Sunday, was to go through
a greater amount of exertion, at that precise moment, than he was
inclined to undertake ; and as he discussed within himself the several
other modes of supplying his deficiency, it struck him that he had
swopped a cactus that morning with a lady up in Clarendon Square
for a "very tidy Pallytott," and "these," as he justly observed,
" with the pair of breeches as he took with the pocket-book in 'em,
would turn him out fit even for the ' Heagle.' " Accordingly, he
emptied the contents of liis clothes-bag on one of the tables, and
having selected therefrom such articles as he thought would suit him
for the occasion, he proceeded at once, amid the laughter of all
present, to indue himself with the garments ; then having obtained
permission of the landlord to leave the basket and bag in his charge
for awhile, the hawker sallied forth, determined, like the quondam
possessor of the trowsers he then wore, upon " enjoying himself."

Still the flower-seller was undecided whither to direct his steps.

MR, AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 107

At first he thought of Greenwich Park and a feast of tea and shrimps ;
but, though Greenwich had attractions, tea had none for him. Next
he turned his attention to the Red House, but he knew of no pigeon
match that was to come off there that day, so that would not suit him.
"Then he made up his mind to pay a visit to the Bower," and the minute
after he changed it in favour of " Lord Effingham's concerts." Still, what
was he to do with himself till they began 1 He had it ! he wouldn't go
to any of the places — he'd be off that moment to Rosherville — and
yet it was getting late in the day for a trip to Gravesend, so he'd
take a run down to Hungerford instead, and go on to the roof of the
Swan and have a treat of periwinkles and ale. Accordingly he turned
round and proceeded in the opposite direction to that on which he was
before journeying.

But the flower- seller was too fond of halting at each tavern on the
way to get even that far. The money he possessed, as the street people
themselves say, " seemed to burn in his pocket ;" and the drink he had
already taken made him crave for more, so that it would have required
greater strength of mind than he was master of to have refrained from
entering the next public house he came to. The liquor that he here swal-
lowed served as usual only to increase his thirst for more of the same
maddening fluid. So on he went, "dropping in" at every "public" on his
way, and standing at the bar drinking, wi'angliug, or tossing with any
one whom he could " pick up." At length, with the many glasses of
raw spirit that he had taken on his road, the drink got to produce so vio-
lent an effect upon his temper, that the more respectable of the land-
lords refused to serve him; but this tended only to make him still
more furious, so that at almost every tavern he visited, he was forced
to be turned into the street before he could be got rid of. At one
house, however, it was found impossible to get rid of him -without
closing the doors ; for each time that he was thrust out, back he came
staggering and oftering to fight everybody at the bar. Seeing, there-
fore, that it was useless attempting to enter, he sat himself down on
the step and went fast asleep against the door ; on being roused by
the pot-boy and desired to go about his business, the hawker grew
so enraged that he jumped from his resting-place and strove to seize
hold of the lad so that he might wreak his vengeance upon him. In
the attempt, however, to catch the youth, the flower-seller stumbled
and fell heavily on his back 1)eside the kerb, and there he lay unable
to raise himself, with a crowd of boys shouting and playing every
imaginable trick upon him.

The arrival of the police at length put an end to the whole affair,
and the hawker, with a dense crowd after him, was carried ott', strug-
gling and bellowing among four of the stoutest of the force, each
holding him by one of his extremities. On being searched at the
station-house, Mr. Sandboys' pocket-book was found in the hawker's
possession; in one of its compartments were the cards of address
belonging to that gentleman. The authorities, believiug these to be
the rightful property of the flower-seller, proceeded at once to enter,

108 1851; OE, THE ADVENTURES OF

among the list of offenders of that day, the name of Mr. Christopher
Sandboys, of Craven-street, Strand, as having been found drunk, dis-
orderly, and incapable of taking care of himself.

The reader knows the occurrences that followed. A messenger was
despatched to the residence of Mr. Sandbojs, to apprise that gentle-
man's family of his unpleasant position.

Mrs. Sandboys had been gone but a short while, before X^ursty, who
had been " dropped,"' as the idiom runs, by the omnibus, at the top of
the street, staggered, half asleep and half awake, up to the door.

He had no sooner set foot on the door-mat, than Mrs. Fokesell,
who had espied him from the kitchen window, and run up to answer
his knock, threw wp her hands in astonishment, and exclaimed, in a
familiar way, " How in the world did you ever get out 1"

The innocent Christopher was unable to comprehend either the
cause of the lady's surprise, or the meaning of her question. " What
do'sta mean, Avomanl" he said.

" Oh !" returned Mrs. Fokesell, winking her eye as she nudged his
elbow ; " you needn't mind telling me — I knows all about it. There's
been a party up here, and told us of all your goings on."

" My gaugings an !" exclaimed Cursty. " Ye may well say that, for
I've been half ow'r London."

"Very well turned off!" retorted Mrs. Fokesell; "but it won't do.
We're up to all your tricks, we are ; so you'd much better confess at
once. Oh, you're a sly old fox — though perhaps you ain't much wuss
than the rest of you men. Fokesell was almost as bad — hardly a pin
to choose betwixt you."

Mr. Sandboys, fatigued and vexed with the futility of his journey,
felt in no way inclined for jesting; so, brushing past the uncere-
monious landlady, he darted up the stairs to the family garret.

Mrs. Fokesell, however, in anticipation of a " scene," which she
longed to witness, hastened after him, and was just in time to behold
Elcy throw herself into her father's arms, and burst into subdued
hysterics at the unexpected pleasure of his return.

For a few minutes the landlady stood unobserved at the doorway,
and while Cursty was Avondering within himself why his daughter
should receive him with so unusual an outburst of aiiection, and
coupling her tears with the mysterious conduct and insinuations of
Mrs. Fokesell, he began to ask himself, half in fear, " What fresh dis-
aster could have befallen them nowl"

Elcy kissed him again and again, telling him each time how happy
she was that she had him home again. " Could she get him anything,
or would he not like to lie down I" she inquired.

" Yes, Miss," interrupted the busy Mrs. Fokesell, " if your Pa will
be advised by me, he'll take off his boots, and go and lie on the bed
for an hour or two — and let me get him a bottle of soda water, while
you puts a wet towel I'ound his head, for if you looks at his eyes you'll
see they're quite bloodshot."'

"My e'en bluidshot!" ejaculated Mr. Sandboys, growing half

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 109

enraged at the apparent unmeaniugness of the whole of the landlady's
remarks ; however he went to the glass to see if there were anything
odd enough in his looks to account for the peculiarity of the landlady's
behaviour. His eyes were a little red, certainly, he thought, as he
scrutinized his countenance, but that arose from the " nap" he had
indulged in during his ride home, and beyond this he could see nothing
which could call forth so much anxiety on his behalf.

" Do, father," said Elcy, " do go and lie down, or you'll be ill, I am
sure."

" Yes ;" chimed in Mrs. Fokesell, " I'm sure it's a wonder you
hasn't got the ' delirious trimmings^ as it is. Fokesell, I know, once
had 'em after one of these bouts, and then he fancied he was aboard
his ship, in our back parlour, and that the house was agoing down, all
hands, 'cause I wouldn't work the pumps. Now, come, there's a good
gentleman, do be persuaded by Miss Elcy, and go to bed for an hour
or two."

" Go to bed !" echoed Sandboys, tetchily. " I'm not tired — I've
had a nap."

" Oh, yes, we know," retorted Mrs. Fokesell, winking her eye and
nodding her head, in a manner that is considered to speak volumes,
and which was certainly meant to insinuate to the unsuspecting
Sandboys that the lady was acquainted with the fact of his having
tried to take " forty winks" in the gutter ; " and we know vliere you
had your nap too. Fine times, indeed, when you gents must needs
go falling asleep in the ' kennel.' "

" In t' ' kennel,' " shouted Sandboys, in none of the mildest tones.
" What do'sta mean, woman, what do'sta mean, I say ?"

" Oh, you knows what I means, well enough, ^Mr. Slyboots — going
and doing such things, thinking it 'ud be unbcknowu to your
missus. A nice time she'd have on it if she only knowcd all, I'll be
bound to say." And here Mrs. Fokesell gave herself a jerk, expres-
sive, as she imagined, of the highest possible indignation.

" How daresta speak to me in that way ?" demanded the incensed
Cursty. " Leave t' room, Avoman."

" Father ! father ! pray calm yourself," said Elcy, growing alarmed
at what she imagined to be the lingering effect of her parent's indiscre-
tion. " Pray be calm, and go and lie down just a little while."

" Lie down ! why, what's come to you aw' 'I You seem to be aw'
mad tegiddcr. But where's your mother V

" Ah ! you may well ask that," answered the pert Mrs. Fokesell —
"gone to look after you; and 1 suppose you can remember the kind
of place you've come from T'

" I come from Houndsditch, I tell tha, woman," replied Mr. Sand-
boys, curtly, for he wa.s afraid to give full vent to his feeling, lest he
might receive " notice to quit," and then be left without a roof to
shelter himself or family.

" You must tell that to the marines, as my Fokesell used to say,"
retorted the landlady ; " for 1 knows better— so it's no use your deny-
ing the tricks you have been at no longer ; and all 1 got to say is,

110 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

the sooner you has your temples bathed with winegar, the better it
will be for you in the morning. Come, now, I'm a married woman,
and knows all about these matters. Bless you ! my Fokesell has taken
a drop too much many a time; so just let me go and get you a
Seidelitz powder, or, if them's too cold for you, be persuaded by me,
and talvc a couple of ' Cockles.' "

Poor Mr. Sandboys sat all this time almost " boiling over" with
rage. He bit his lip between his teeth to prevent his saying a word,
for he now began to see that not only the landlady, but his daughter,
both imagined that he had been drinking. Why they should imagine
as much was more than he could conceive, but it was evident that
such was their impression.

" I'm sure your head must ache, father," said Elcy, observ^ing her
parent bite his lip, as she fancied, with pain. " It really burns like
a fire," she added, as she laid her hand across his forehead.

" Doan't be a fuil, child !" cried Cursty, as he angrily dragged down
her arm. " I shall go mad among you aw', I shall. What in t'
warl's happened, to put sic notions in tha head T

Here the girl of all -work tapped at the attic-door, and informed
Mrs. Fokesell that there was a young man below stairs as wanted to
speak with the lady of the house.

The landlady disappeared for a few minutes, and then suddenly
darted back into the room, wth cap-strings flying a yard behind her.

" Well, I do declare," she exclaimed, standing with her hands on
her hips, " if you ain't all of a piece ; — fust it's you, and then it's your
missus. Ah, you may stare, but I've got a pretty set in my house, it
seems. Here's a young man below as has come to say that Mrs.
Sandboys has got took up for assaulting a policeman, and that she's a
lying in the station-house till her case comes on for hearing."

" Heavens !" cried Cursty, " it canna be true "

" Oh, father ! father ! what will become of her f said the afflicted Elcy,
as her head fell on her parent's shoulder, in terror at the thoughts of
her mother being in such a place.

" What can it aw' mean?" shouted Sandboys.

" Why, the lad says, as well as I can make it out, that Mrs. Sand-
boys went into the Black Bull public house — of all places in the world
for a lady — to ask for change — and that there some noise or other
arose about the money; that then the police was called in to settle
the matter, and that on his stating that Mrs. Sandboys was not a
proper woman, she flew at him, and nearly tore him to bits. And
the young man does tell me," continued the landlady, " that the
language she used on the occasion was quite dreadful for decent
people to hear — so a pretty set indeed it seems I've let into my
house. Well, I always thought you was a queer lot, that I did —
and I said as much to Mrs. Quinine as had my second floor. I'm
sure the house has been like a common bear-garden ever since
I've had you in it — what with your screams when a few coals was
shot on top of you — and what with }our frightening poor Mrs.
Quinine nearly out of her life, and alarming the whole house with

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. Ill

the screams of the dear thing — and what with your threatening
to murder the policeman in my kitchen with my red-hot poker —
and what with the springing of rattles, and collecting a mob round
my hairy rails — and what with your allowing your son to be
brought home here by a common policeman in the disrespectable
state he was; and now what -svith the two police reports as there
will be in the paper about you to-morrow morning, there'll be line
talk about my house and my people all up and down both sides of
the street. You'll bring a scandal upon me, you Avill. I'm sure I've
never knowed a moment's peace — never since I was fool enough to be
persuaded to allow you to set foot under my roof. But you'll
please to provide yourself with some other lodging the moment
your week is up, for not another minute after do you stay here, I
can tell you."

Mrs. Fokesell, who had grown red in the face with the long catalogue
of her grievances, was obliged to come to an end for sheer want of
breath.

It was useless for Cursty to seek to obtain any more definite in-
formation from her in the excited state of her mind, for immediately he
ventured to question her as to what had befallen his wife, it was but
the signal for her to renew her vituperations. At last, putting on his
hat, he hastened down stairs to the youth who had brought the in-
telligence, and proceeded to accompany him in search of his dearest

Mrs. Sandboys, however, it should be made known, had been no
more concerned in the occurrence above detailed than her lord and
master had been the hero of the scene previously described ; for the
'•'lady" who had passed under that name was none other than the
mate of the flower-seller, who had become possessed of the Sandboys'
marriage certificate. Proceeding on her way home, it had struck the
woman that it would be as well to convert the twenty pound note into
sovereigns as soon as she possibly could, for on a closer inspection of
the valuable, she had perceived that the name of the gentleman men-
tioned in the marriage certificate was inscribed on the back of it.
Accordingly she entered a public house where she was not known,
and after having partaken of a glass of giu-and-ruc, and the half of a
pork pie, she tendered the bank note in payment for what she had
devoured. The landlord, however, looked upon the possession of a note
for so large a sum by one of so mean an appearance as a very sus-
picious circumstance, and believing tliat she had not come honestly by
the money, began to question her as to how and where she had obtained
it. Finding that her answers were not particularly lucid or con-
sistent on the subject, he thought it best to send for a policeman, and
leave the officer to decide upon what course to take. The official, on
seeing the woman, was as cuufident as the landlord that the note had
been got hold of by unfair means, nor did he hesitate to tell the woman
that he was satisfied she had stolen it from some gentleman, insinu-
ating at the same time that she was, as the phrase runs, " no better

112 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

than she should be." The wortls were no sooner uttered than the
woman, incensed at being foiled in her prize, flew at the policeman,
and with her clenched fist beat him in the face so vigorously that
before the man had time to defend himself he was covered with blood.

In a few moments afterwards she was on her way, handcuffed, to
the station house, while the landlord, who had handed the note over
to the officer, thought it best to send the messenger before mentioned
to the address inscribed on the back of it.

On reaching the station house, the superintendent directed that the
woman should be immediately taken before the sitting magistrate, so
that the charge might be disposed of with the least possible delay.

His worship, on hearing the evidence of the policeman, demanded
to know what proof the woman could adduce as to the note being her
own lawful property, as she asserted; whereupon she drew forth the
marriage certificate of the Sandboys, protesting most loudly that it was
her own. The magistrate, having perused the document carefully
throughout, and satisfied himself of its authenticity, said there could
be no doubt that the woman was really the person whom she repre-
sented herself to be.

Finding the magistrate take this view of the case, the female
flower-seller then laid a formal complaint against the policeman, de-
claring that he had insulted her in the grossest manner that a res2iect-
able married woman could possibly be insulted, insinuating that she
was a person of immoral character, when his worship could see by the
marriage lines as she had shown him, that she was as honest a woman
as any in Loudon. The man's conduct, she added, had thrown her
into such a passion that she really did not know what she had done
to him after he had insulted her : and she put it to his lordship
whether his good lady would not have done the same.

The magistrate, though hardly inclined to take that extreme
view of the case, still acknowledged that every excuse was to be
made for the woman, adding that the officer had no I'ight whatever to
make any such insinuation without having indisputable proof of the
fact — and that, as it was, he should dismiss the case, warning the
policeman to be more cautious in future, and ordering the note to be
restored to the woman, upon whose character he was bound to say
there was not the slightest stain.

But to return to our lost mutton — Mr. Christopher Sandboys.

Immediately on learning from the boy of the " Black Bull," the
precise part of the town in Avhich the lady passing by the name of
Mrs. Sandboys was held in " safe custody," Cursty called a cab, and
having placed the lad on the box beside the driver, deposited himself
within it, ordering the man to carry him with all haste whither the
youth should direct.

On reaching the station-house, to Cursty's great delight, he was in-
formed that Mrs. Sandboys had been discharged, as the magistrate
"said, "without the slightest stain on her character," while the police-
man, who had suffered so severely from the lady's indignation, and who

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 113

now began to fear, from the presence of Mr. Sandboys, that the magis-
trate had been perfectly correct in his conviction as to the honesty of
the woman who had been brought before him, thought it prudent to
apologize for his mistake, lest an action for something or other might
be commenced against him.

The consequence was, that Cursty hastened back home quite as fast,
if not faster, than he had hastened from it, in the hopes of clutching
his poor injured Aggy to his bosom, and consoling her under her
heavy trials, with the assurance of his undoubtiug aftection.

During the absence of Mr. Sandboys, his better half had returned
from Bow-street, where she had been agreeably surprised to find that
Mr. Sandboys, or rather the gentleman known there by that name,
had been bailed out a few minutes before her arrival, and had left the
station accompanied by his friends. In vain did she make inquiries as
to the name of the bail, in the hope of ascertaining who the friends
could have been that had done her husband so great a service; for she
was not aware of his being acquainted with a single individual in Lon-
don: nor did the names and addresses of the sureties, when read over
to her, tend in the least to enlighten her on the subject; so, as she found
the authorities little disposed to enter into that minute account of the
proceedings which was necessary to clear up the mystery, she left the
police-office, and proceeded on her Avay home, wondering within her-
self who " in t' name of guidness " the friends could be; and
coming to the conclusion that they were some Cumberland people
who had come up for the opening of the Exhibition, and whom her
Cursty had stumbled upon in the course of his rambles through
London.

On reaching home, IMrs. Fokesell, who had recognised, from the
kitchen, the skirt of Mrs. Sandboys' dress as it whisked round the corner
of the door-step, ran up the stairs in immediate answer to her knock;
and no sooner had she closed the door after the lady, than she began
wondering how she could have the impudence to show her face in that
house after what had ha})pened, and begging to assure her,^ with a
significant shake of her cap, that she was not in the habit of letting
lodgings to people who occasionally occupied an apartment in the
station-house.

Mrs. Sandboys imagined, of course, that she alluded to her husband's
recent incarceration, and not being particularly i)roud of the circum-
stance herself, endeavoured to calm the landlady's irritation on the
subject.

But Mr."?. Fokesell was not to be appeased, and she gave Mrs. Sand-
boys plainly to understand, that she ought to think licrself highly
favoured to be allowed to set foot within her door again, after her
shameful, unlady-liUc conduct to the policeman.

Aggy, imagining tliat the landlady referred to her inquiries at the
station-house, endeavoured to call to mind how she could po.ssibly
have committed herself.

I

114 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

But Mrs. Fokesell soon informed ber, that it was useless her
attempting to play the innocent to her, for a man had been down
there and told her about ber shameful goings on, and how she had
beaten one of the force within an inch of his life.

Mrs. Sandboys stood aghast at the accusation. At first she won-
dered how such a charge could possibly be trumped uji again.st her;
then she imagined it must surely be some jest of the landlady's; but
Mrs. Fokesell soon put that notion to flight, by not only repeating
the aspersion, but adding, that she had been informed, on the very
best authority, that she was well known to the whole of the police,
as not being the most respectable person in the world.

This was more than the Cumberland blood of Mrs. Sandboys could
bear ; and, holding in her breath with the effort of subduing her wrath,
she demanded to know what Mrs. Fokesell meant by such an assertion.

Mrs. Fokesell, who was nothing daunted, did not make the slightest
attempt to mince the matter, but proceeded to tell her lodger, in the
most unequivocal terms, that the policeman had declared that he knew
.she was not an honest woman.

Mrs. Sandboys could hardly contain herself for rage. If ever she
had felt inclined to commit an assault upon any one, it was at that
particular moment. Her fingers were all of a work, and it Avas evi-
dently as much as she could do to keep her hands from tearing the
landlady's cap from her head. She could have borne any imputation
in the world save an aspersion on her virtue.

Again she demanded of Mrs. Fokesell an immediate and full expla-
nation. How dare a low-bred woman like her tell her she was not an
honest woman — when Mrs. Fokesell, herself a married female, (and
Mrs. Sandboys laid a strong emphasis on both of the words.) was with-
out so much as a husband to show for herself. It was very well to
make out that he was at sea, but nothing was easier than to say as
much.

It was now Mrs. Fokesell's turn to grow scarlet with rage, and the
words were scarcely uttered before she thrust her hands in the huge
pocket she wore at her side, and drawing out an old " housewife,"
she took from it a piece of paper, which, having torn open, she thrust
into the face of the terrified j\lrs. Sandboys, saying, as she shook it
vigorously, " There's my marriage lines, woman ! show your'n !
show your'n, if you can, and prove yourself to be what you says you
are."

Poor Mrs. Sandboys felt the helplessness of her position. She knew
that she had parted with her certificate in the act of disposing of
her husband's old trowsers. It was idle for her to think of an expla-
nation— of course it could but appear as a lame excuse on the pre-
sent occasion ; so prudence made her gulp down her indignation,
and try to soothe the infuriated Mrs. Fokesell, who Avas once more
making her misfortune the laughing-stock of the whole house — for the
lodgers, hearing the wrangling of the two ladies in the passage, had crept
one by one from their respective apartments, and stood with their necks
stretched out over the balusters, giggling at the disputants below.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 115

But the gentle Fokesell was rather anxious to make a public case
of the matter, and finding that she was getting a good audience about
her, shouted at the top of her voice, •' Where's your marriage lines I
Where's your marriage lines 1 — where's your marriage lines, I ask
a<yain, in the presence of all these respectable gentlemen."

This was the unkindest cut of all, and Mrs. Sandboys sought tt)
escape up stairs, but Mrs. Fokesell was in no humour to let her ort
so easily. 8he could uot forget the base insinuations that the
lady had presumed to throw out respectius: the apocryphal character
of "her absent Fokesell, and feeling satisfied of Mrs. Sandboys'
inability to justify htr character, by the production of her marriage
certificate, she felt the more enraged that such a stigma should be
cast upon her by such a person ; accordingly, as Mrs. Sandboys en-
deavoured to get away from her, she seized that lady by the arms, and
Avith her teeth clenched, proceeded to shake her violently against the
wall, while the terrified Aggy shrieked '■' murder !" in her shrillest tones.
At this critical state of af!i:urs, a loud double knock at the street
door made the passage echo with its clamour. This had the effect of
inducing Mrs. Fokesell to relax her hold of the poor trembling Mrs.
Sandboys, to whose great relief, on the door being opened, no less a
person than her own dear Cursty made his appearance.

Immediately that gentleman was fairly in the passage, the exas-
perated landlady sought to empty the vials of her wrath on the heads
of the innocent coui)le, but ]\Ir. Sandboys, observing the agitated
state of his wife, and judging from a glance the nature uf the scene
that had transpired, thought it prudent to withdraw to his own apart-
ment ; though as he and Aggy ascended the stairs, they could hear
Mrs. Fokesell in the passage below vowing all kinds of vengeance
against them both on the morrow, and heaping on their names
epithets that were not of the most choice or flattering description.

Once by themselves, each began to console the other. Cursty of
course believed that his beloved Aggy had suffered imprisonment for
assaulting a policeman. Aggy too, in her turn, fancied that her dear
Cursty had been only just released from the station-house, where he
liad been confined for being drunk and disorderly, and each sought
to learn from the other what circumstances could possibly have
induced them so far to forget themselves. Elcy, who looked u]nm
them both as martyrs, Avas delighted to welcome them back again,
for while each of her parents believed that the other had transgressed,
she had been led to imagine that they both had been incarcerated for
violating the law in some way or other.

Mrs. Sandboys was anxious that Cursty should retire to i-e.st, for she
was afViiid that he must have taken cold from sleeping in the street, as
she had been informed he had done; and Cursty begged that she would
dismiss the whole affair from her mind until the morrow, when they
would both be in a better condition to sjieak calmly on the sub-
ject. He was sure a glass of wine would do her good, after all the
violent exertion she had gone through. Cut Mrs. Saiidhoys, allud-
ing to her trip to the slation-hous(! after hrr husband, begged to

1 ii

116 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

assure him that it was solely ou his account that she had done what
she had, and all she could say Avas, she'd do it again to-morrow for his
sake. Cursty, however, who believed that she referred to her late
assault ou the })oliceman, felt within himself in no way anxious that
she should encourage a habit of resenting any attack upon her
honour, in the Amazonian manner in which she had so recently dis-
tinguished herself, lest some day or other, she might resort to the
same unpleasant means of vindicating herself, when aggrieved,
even A^-ith him. Then he told how he had gone off to the station-
house merely out of his regard to her. But Mrs. Sandboys was
unable to i)erceive how his falling asleep in the gutter Avas calculated
in any Avay to benefit her; and thus the worthy couple went on for some
time, playing at cross purposes, until at last an explanation became
necessary ; and then they both saw clearly that their names had been
assumed by some unprincipled persons, though with what motive they
neither of them could comprehend. Curst}-, however, was determined
to sift the affair to the bottom, and huriying back to the station-
house whither the woman had been conveyed, he obtained a minuter
account of the whole circumstances than he had prcA-iously been able to
receive, and soon became convinced that the Avoman Avas an accom-
plice of the flower-seller, Avho had got possession of part of the notes,
and the marriage certificate that had been deposited in the missing
pocket-book.

When he returned home and cleared up tb.e mystery to his wife
Aggy could plainly see through it all, and what Avas more, she felt
satisfied that they'd many more troubles to come, for so long as that
certificate was out of their possession they could not tell what might
turn up against them.

The next morning a climax AA-as put to their distress of mind, in the
shape of a long " comic" police report in all the daily papers, detailing-
hoAv Mrs. Christopher Sandboys, of Cumberland, avIio had come up to
toAvn to see the Great Exhibition, bad made a furious attack upon oue
of the most active members of the metropolitan police force.

nrkeOFERA B0XF.S. during lli^

N«N^, fm

:ii\inm0mmmm 1 1 1 n i n, mmmmmmm m^mim iVii<)

Bulj-'IV t) O^

me of Hie C^FhTvr FiYiui^rrioN: t ^

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 117

CHAPTER XL

Hark! where th' inveytin' drum o' Mars

Athwart the far land rattles,
It miuds me aye o' wounds nu' scars,

O' bruollinients an' battles.
But Sargiu' Keyte wad fain persuade

It's but the call of honour,
Where certain fortune shall be made,

By those who wait upon her.

Off han' this day.
*****
I leyke the king, I leyke the state,

The kurk and consiitutiou.
An' on their foes baith soon and late,

Wish downfa' an' confusion.
But may nae frieii' o' mine,

By cheats turn out that maizlin ninuy,
To barter aw' the Briton's reeghts,

For nonsense an' a guinea.

Wi' Keyte this day.

Hoslet/ Fair.

On the morrow the Sandhoys received formal notice to quit the esta-
blishment of Mrs. Fokesell on that day week.

What was to be done I

Where were they to go ?

London was filling rapidly. In the extensive lodging district on
the southern side of the Strand, scarcely a bill \fas to be seen bearing
the significant inscription of

APARTMENTS

TO BE LET,

ELEGANTLY FURNISHED.

and even where cards of vacant lodgings were to be seen, so cnonnous
were the present demands, that the economical mind of Mrs. Sandboys
stood aghast at the contemplation of the weekly outlay.

The Chelsea and Camden Town colonies of clerks she had explored;
but there nothing Avas to be had but bedrooms for single gentlemen
who were expected to breakfitst only on the premises.

The great commercial retreats of Stoke Newington, Ilaggerstono,
Clapham, and Camberwell, were likewise scoured in their turn, but
with no better success. Attics were <juoted at ten shillings; second
fioors were at a high premium; and very little parloius and drawing-
rooms were letting at very large prices.

The day of the opening of tlu; (h'and Exhibition was last drawing
near; and the rimumr had already spread over the country that the
Queen intended to oj)en the " (Ireat (jSlass Jlive'' instate. Already
did the streets swarm with Htraw-colour-haired (Germans, jukI chicory-
comjilexioued Kgyj)tians — already was llcgeut Stn-cfc cranimcd with
beards, full pantaloons, and felt hats — ahcady was tin; terminus

118 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

of the Dover Hue daily disgorging some hundreds of Parisians habited
in quaint cut cloaks, witn hoods like huge jelly-bags dangling at their
backs — already were the thoroughfares at the West End crowded
Avith holiday-looking folk, and streams of gaily- dressed idlers seemed
to be pouring in the direction of some fair in the outskirts — hairs
seemed to have sprung up on the lips and chin of every other passer-
by in a night, like mustard and cress — the huge waggons, piled high as
the house-tops with large wooden cases, each indorsed in bold letters,

FOR THE GREAT EXHIBITION OF ALL NATIONS,

had ceased to appear in the streets, and all seemed to be preparing
for the great fair — the world's holiday.

The (Sandboys held a family council, the result of which was,
that it was unanimously agreed it would be advisable, under the
circumstances, for them to retire some short distance from the
metropolis; and accordingly expeditions were sent out pi'ovisioned
for the day, in search of the suburban regions.

After considerable difficulty, a bill was discovered pasted in a
cheesemonger's window, announcing that

" ANY NUMBER OF LADIES OR GENTLEMEN MAY BE ACCOM-
MODATED WITH APARTMENTS FOR A LIMITED PERIOD, IN A
HEALTHY SITUATION, WITHIN A SIXPENNY RIDE OF THE
GREAT EXHIBITION.

ENQUIRE WITHIN."

This was too good news to let slip. Accordingly, Mrs. Sandboys
no sooner received the information from her son Jobby, than she
sallied forth, intent on ascertaining further particulars respecting the
suburban domicile. On her return, she informed Mr. Sandboys that
she thought it would be the " very thing" for them. The lodging
was close to Wimbledon Common, at an establishment for young
ladies, where the Easter vacation had been extended to a month, in
honour of the opening of the Great Exhibition. Miss WcAvitz herself
was at present sti^ying, on a visit, with one of her pupils in the
metropolis ; and Mrs. Wewitz had very properly thought it a pity to
allow so large a house, making up, as it did, upwards of sixty beds,
to remain unoccupied, just at a time when so many strangers were
wanting a plac3 to put their head in.

The next day, Mrs. Sandboys made an excursion to Wimbledon,
and came back to Town delighted with the " ladies' establishment."
Everything was so scrupulously clean, — the bed-furniture and the
boards w^ere as white as the Sour Milk Gill opposite their window
at Buttermere; and the whole place was so airy and beautifully
ventilated, that she believed Jobby might have flown his kite in the
principal bed-room. Then the terms were so moderate, and the lady
so obliging — she reallv thought she wa.s one of the nicest old bodies

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 119

she had seen for many a long day; — altogether, she was quite in love
with the ph^ce, and everjihing and everybody about it.

She had arranged, she said, to go in the very next day; for, really,
that spiteful old thing of a Mrs, Fokesell did make the house so
uncomfortable, that the sooner they got out of her power the better.

The next morning a cab was hired, to carry the Sandboys and
their luggage to the Waterloo terminus.

The parting with Mrs. Fokesell was by no means of a pathetic
character, though, when the time came for saying good bye, the laud-
lady, who had been considerably mollified by the payment of her bill,
hoped as how that bygones would be bygones, and acknowledged that
she might have behaved a little " hindiscreet" on the late occasion,
but her blood was up, she said, and then she wasn't her own missus.

In a few hours afterwards, the family of the Sandboys were safely
landed at " Parthenon House," Wimbledon Common.

Here nothing occurred to ruffle the serenity of their retirement for
some few days.

On the fifth day, however, from their entering the establishment,
the French master, who was really a " Natif de Paris," and had pub-
lished a sheet wherein the whole of the French genders were ingeni-
ously reduced to two, called to request that a friend of his might be
accommodated with a temporary apartment under that roof. His
friend had come to England to be present at the opening of the
Great Exhibition, and wished for a large airy room. The mother of
the head of the establishment was delighted to have the opportunity
of disposing of her left wing — if the gentleman would not object to
the beds remaining in the apartment, for she had no other place
wherein to stow them. The French master observed, that he was
sure his friend and compatriot would be too happy to oblige so
young and beautiful a lady (the mother had long ago taken to false
fronts), and with this enchanting tara- diddle, he withdrew from the
premises, leaving the old lady to declare that there was a something
— she didn't know what — about French manners, that to her mind
far surpassed the English.

The day after this, the French master accompanied his friend
!M. le Comte de Sanschemise, who came in a large cloak, an immense
Spanish hat, and a small reticule-like carpet bag, to take possession of
liis apartment and its extensive range of beds.

Now it so happened that the day after M. le Comte had entered the
ladies' establishment, three thousand of the French Gardes Nationales,
who had come over to be present at the opening of the Crystal Palace
on the 1st of May, were deposited in the very heart of the metropolis
by a monster train from Dover.

To locate so large a colony in the foreign districts of London was
impossible. The Frenchmen were already ten in a room in all the
purlieus of Goldcn-sfiuare. Leicester, on the other hand, what with
the world in the centre, and the denizens of nil luitidus swarming on
every side of it, was as full as it could wlU hold, 'i'he (Quadrant hud

120 lft51 ; on, the adventures of

become as Freucliified as the Palais Royal, and the boxes of the
several cheap Restaurants round about the Haymarket were swarming
with parties of poor Parisians, who invariably demanded portions for
one and plates for six.

It was in this emergency that the French master of Parthenon
House, Avho was known to some of the troop, betliought him of the
many spare beds iu the apartment of his friend, M. le Comte de
Sanschemise, and immediately proposed that as many of them should
retire to that establishment as the room could hold. For the sake of
appearances, however, it was arranged that they should proceed to the
house in not more than two at one time, and accordingly every
conveyance that left London deposited its couple of " citoyens" at the
door of the Wimbledon Establishment for Young Ladies.

By the close of the evening the aiTivals had already amounted to
two-and-twenty, and during the next day nearly double that number
were brought to the gate.

Mrs. Wewltz had already been given to understand that two-and-
twenty Frenchmen had slept the night previous iu the bedroom of
the young ladies belonging to the upper school, and now, to her
great horror, she saw the number of foreigners under her roof increased
by couples almost every half-hour throughout the day.

At dusk she thought it high time to remonstrate with M. le Comte,
and on requesting to be informed how many there were at present
lodged in his room, she was horrified to hear that, including himself,
there' were no less than eight-and-forty occupants. She begged to
remind the Comte that she had let the room to him alone. But the
Comte, with the greatest politeness possible, assured her that he was
at liberty to do with the apartment as he pleased so long as he paid
the rent for it, and that she need not be under the least alarm, for
that they were all perfect gentlemen, and that many of them, like
himself, were persons of title.

]\Irs. Wewitz knew not what to do under the circumstances. To
endeavour to put eight-and-forty soldiers to the rout was more than
she dare attempt — and to call in the aid of the police would be, per-
haps, not only to cause bloodshed, but to get the Avhole affair published
in the newspapers, and so ruin the school; for what parent, as she
justly observed to herself, would dream of confiding an innocent
daughter to the care of an establishment where as many as four dozen
foreigners were in the habit of being located in one apartment
alone. Then she was in a state of continual alarm lest the Sandboys
should discover the colony of National Guards she had under her left
wing; and how to keep their presence a secret from them was beyond
her power to conceive. If she only dare venture to break the dis-
tressing intelligence to her daughter in town, she perhaps might be
able to bring the business to a happy and speedy termination; but
she knew that her dearest Cleopatra would never forgive her impru-
dence. Then, again, how was she to get rid of the fellows, even
before the young ladies returned] for if they would not go now, how
was it likely that they would stir at a time when London would have

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 121

become more full, aud there would then be the extra inducemcut of
the impudent fellows remaining on the premises to make love to the
young ladies < She would not have that Emily Bonpoint back while
those wretches of Frenchmen were about for all she was worth. For if
she and her daughter couldn't be a match for her at other times, a pretty
life she would lead them with the left wing packed full of foreigners.
It would break her Cleopatra's heart she knew when she came to hear
of it, that the tilthy, dirty fellows had been sleeping two together in
those beautiful white beds of hers — though how they managed in the
short, narrow slips of things, was impossible to say. Besides, if
there was one thing that her daughter paid more attention to than
another, it was the morals of the tender jjlants that were placed under
her culture — aud she would never forgive herself, she was sure, if
with all those Frenchmen under the roof any elopement should take
place — for not one of them, she was sure, had got a halfpenny to
bless himself.

For a few days the Sandboys remained in a state of comparative
ignorance as to the small army that was then barracked under the
same roof with them. Jobby, to be sure, had noticed the number of
men in red pantaloons that continually kept going in and out of the
premises; but, beyond a passing remark, this had excited little or no
astonishment.

Mrs. Sandboys moreover, had noticed, on the very first day of the
foreigners entering the establishment, a strong smell of tobacco
smoke, and a fogginess in every one of the rooms that she could in
no way account for ; but this had worn off, and she had since paid
but little attention to the matter, for, whether from continual use her
senses had become in a measure accustomed to the smell, or whether
from the Sandboys being located at the other side of the house, it was
difficult to say, but certain it was, that after the first evening she
had not been heard to complain.

One night, however, the lady being rather nervous, after partaking
hekrtily of a cold rice pudding for sujiper, she felt satisfied that she
heard some noise in the house. Sandboys had been fast asleep for
some time, but she thumped him on the back and confided to him
her suspicions that nil Avas not riglit below stairs. ]5ut Cursty was
too tired to trouble himself nmch about the matter, so he merely nmr-
mured that it was all owing to that cold rice pudding she toould cat,
and immediately re-arrangcd himself for the contiimation of his
slumbers.

Mrs. Sandboys was too firmly convinced of the soundness of the
conclusion at which she had arrived, to be able to rest ([uiet in her
bed. She tried to close her eyes and shut out all thought of the
unpleasant circumstance from her mind, but it wa.s useless ; the noiso
still forced itself upon her, and she could not lielj) thinking of tlio
lonely situation of the house, so near that wicked London as it was.
They might all scream tlieir very lives out Ijclbrethey could make any
one hear. Nor did the stories told of the liigliwaymen that in the
last century had infested the common, and the anecdotes she had

123 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

heard of the parties who used to wait at the road-side inn, at the cor-
ner of it, till a sufficient number of travellers had arrived to allow
them to cross the deserted place in a body formidable enough to pre-
vent their being plundered.

Mrs. Sandboys, therefore, rose from her bed, determined to satisfy
herself whence the noise proceeded. At times she would declare that
she heard voices at the opposite side of the building. Accordingly,
slipping on her flannel gown, she proceeded with the rushlight shade
to inspect the premises.

►She had not gone far in the direction of the other wing of the
establishment, when the smoke grew so thick that it was almost im-
possible for her to see her hand before her, and it was of so pungent a
nature, that it almost blinded as well as stifled her. At first it smelt
to her very like the fumes of tobacco, but as she was not aware of
there being any one addicted to " the weed" in the " Establishment for
Young Ladies" — a taste, indeed, that seemed utterly at vai'iance with
the feminine character of the institution — she got to be convinced
that there Avas some tarry substance smouldering away in one of the
rooms, and that it only required a breath of air to cause it to burst
into a sheet of flame, when they would be all burnt alive in their
beds.

Perhaps, thought Mrs. Sandboys, there might yet be time to extin-
guish the smouldering mass. Accordingly, she hurried back to her
bed-room for the jug of cold water, so that she might empty its con-
tents upon the burning body immediately she discovered whereabouts
it lay.

The lady's steps grew quicker and quicker, as, led by her nose, she
followed the smoke, sniffing away like a terrier at a rat-hole — while
the further she advanced the thicker the cloud became, until it was
as much as she could do to fetch her breath in it.

Nothing daunted, however, she proceeded with the cape of her
flannel-gown to her nose, and at length reached the doorway of the
apartment of the United Frenchmen, whence she perceived the fumes
were issuing. She opened the door cautiously, lest the flames, that
she now felt convinced were raging within, should burst out upon
her — indeed, at one time, as she stood outside shivering with fright,
she was confident that she could hear the "devouring element" roar-
ing within ; though, truth to say, it was nothing more horrible than
the snoring of the drowsiest of the eight-aud-forty foreigners.

As she entered the apartment, all was in such a fog of fume, that
it was impossible to distinguish a single object. Presently, however,
she caught sight of a burning mass — she knew not where or what it
was — but there she could see it, growing brighter and brighter at
intervals, as if the breeze were fanning it, and it wanted but a few
minutes longer to burst into flame.

Without hesitating for one moment, she dropped the rushlight
shade on the ground, and dashed the contents of the water-jug full in
the direction of the ignited body.

Immediately after the first splash, there was heard the panting of

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV S.\NDBOYS. 123

some one gasping for breath, and then a boar.se cry of — " Sacr-r-re
mille uommes de tonnerre ! "

Mrs. Sandboys no sooner beard tbe sound of a man's voice — and
that man a Frenchman — than, letting the empty water-jug fall with a
loud crash, she uttered a shrill scream, and flew from the man's apart-
ment in tbe direction of her own.

Tbe astonished and drenched Frenchman, who, like the rest of bis
comrades, bad been indulging in the Parisian luxury of a pipe in bed,
and who had fallen asleep with bis large " meerschaum" still alight in
bis mouth, bearing the shriek of a female, inmiediately sprang from
bis bed, and darted off" after the lady, in tbe hope of making her
explain and apologize for the unceremonious manner in which she
bad roused him from his slumbers.

Mrs. Sandboys, however, had so good a start of the foreigner, that
she was able to reach ber apartment before he could lay bold of her ;
and then rushing into it, she slammed to the door, and throwing
herself upon her beloved Cursty, fell shrieking and kicking and
crpng, " There's a man, Cursty — there's a man !"

Mr. Sandboys, on being roused so suddenly, required to shake
himself two or three times before he could collect himself sufficiently
to comprehend whether or not be was finishing the nightmare that
tbe cold rice-pudding had produced. At length, however, he bad a
vague, indistinct recollection of bis wife having previously roused
him with an alarm of thieves; so, making up bis mind that this
was the cause of his Aggy's fright, and that she bad been actually
pur.sued by some daring burglar, he dashed from his bed-room armed
with a good stout stick.

Immediately outside tbe door he encountered tbe Frenchman, who
was busy in tbe dark, feeling for some mark by which be could
recognise the apartment in tbe morning. Cursty no sooner laid
hands upon the strange man, than be prepared to seize him by the
throat. On attempting to do this, he discovered, to his great sur-
prise, that the supposed housebreaker Avas " bearded like tbe pard ;"
accordingly, be grasped, with a tight hold, the hairy appendage to
the foreigner's chin with one hand, while with the other be proceeded,
with his ash stick, to belabour him, in his shirt as he was, till his
cries raised tlie whole house.

Then the ladies, maids and all, threw up tbe windows of their bed-
rooms, and procee<led, some to shriek "Police!" others to .scream
" Murder 1" and " Thieves 1" while tbe rest busied themselves with sjjring-
ing tbe entire battery of watchmen's rattles that were kept, for the
safety of the young ladies, always at hand on the premises.

Mrs. Wewitz, when she discovered tbe cause of the disturbance,
was more alarmed than ever; for she plainly began to perceive that
tbe eigbt-and-forty Frenchmen, whom in a moment of weakness .she
had admitted within tbe sacred precincts of " Parthenon House," would
ultimately bring ruin upon the liitberto unsullied reputation of her
daughter's '• Estublislimcnt for Young Ladies."

J24 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

Mrs. Sandboys, on becoming acquainted with the fact that she and
her daughter were living beneath the same roof with nearly half a
hundred Frenchmen, grew extremely uneasy at not only the pro-
verbial amatory tendency of the dispositions of jeune France, but the
equally notorious want of cleanliness in the natives of the same en-
lightened country.

Not a moment Avould she allow Elcy to be out of her sight, for she
knew that even when she herself accompanied her for a walk round
the play-ground, the nasty impudent fellows were all up at their win-
dows in a moment, and kept continually drojiping notes of assignation
done up as " cornichoas'' of sweetmeats on to her parasol as they
passed.

But what troubled her perhaps quite as much was, the utter absence
of all weekly contributions of linen for the wash on the part of the
united eight-and-forty Parisians. She had made particular inquiries
on this subject of Mrs. Wewitz, just to satisfy herself whether the
rumoured indifference of la belle France for a change of linen was in
any way founded upon truth, and when that lady assured her that
though the four dozen had been in her house upwards of a fortnight
not so much as a shirt front even, or a pair of socks, had they for-
warded to the laundi-ess.

The cleanly Mrs. Sandboys became so horrified at the idea of
a small battalion being .shut up in the same house as herself, wdthout
having so much as a change of linen for two entire Aveeks, that
she did not hesitate to tell the alarmed Mrs. Wewitz that now the
warm weather Avas coming on, they would be sure to be having a
malignant fever break out on the premises; for it was the universal
opinion of the best medical authorities, that all of the most dangerous
diseases arose merely from dirt— and serve the people (juite right
too, she said ; she didn't pity one of the nasty filthy things. But it
was only for the poor young ladies' sakes that she spoke, for most
likely they'd be coming back just in the thick of it. She would only
ask Mrs. Wewitz to picture to herself what the small-pox would be
among sixty young ladies, the majority of whom perhaps had nothing
but their good looks to depend upon for their advancement in life;
besides vaccination, she must well know, was held to be of no good
after seven years, and as Miss Wewitz, her daughter, didn't receive
any young ladies under that age, she might readily imagine the
ravages that such a pestilence would be likely to make in such a
place, and tlie number of poor miserable old maids that they'd have
to answer for.

The urgent appeals of ]Mrs. Sandboys took so firm a hold on the
mind of Mrs. Wewitz, that she said she would do anything that ]Mrs.
Sandboys might think best. Whereupon, that lady suggested that,
as it was Monday, she should be allowed to send Ann Lightfoot up to
the Frenchmen, and desire to know whether they liad any " things" for
the wash — at least, Mrs. Sandboys said, it would shame them into
making up some bundle, however small it might be.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 125

Accordingly, Ann Lightfoot was dispatched on the errand, with
strict orders to bring back the answer as quickly as possible.

Some considerable time elapsed, however, before the maid returned
with the reply, what washing the gentlemen needed, they said they
themselves did j and in proof of the truth of the statement, the maid
told her mistress that on entering the room, she found the Count and
some of the Officers around the wash-hand basin busily engaged in
soaping and rubbing away at their dirty collars.

The message once delivered, Mrs. Sandboys began to question the
girl as to the cause of her delay. The maid, in a confused manner,
endeavoured to stammer out that she couldn't make the gentlemen
understand her.

Mrs. Sandboys, however, observing, on a close scrutiny of the girl's
appearance, that her cap was awry, desired her to come closer to
her, and then taking hold of her, she turned the maid round, and to
her horror discovered imprinted on her cheek a series of exact copies
in " cire de moustache' of every shape and variety of mustachio.
Then seizing the girl by the arm, she dragged her round to the look-
ing-glass, and begged to be informed whether it was necessary for
the Frenchmen's lips to be placed so near to her before they could
make her understand what they meant.

Ann Lightfoot coloured crimson as she perceived that the black wax
with which the Parisians were in the habit of darkening their beards,
had left its mark upon her skin, and bursting into tears, she said it
was impossible for her to get away from them; for first it was one, and
then the other, till at last she really thought that they would
have torn her to pieces among them ; and if there was one, added
the girl, that was wuss than another, it was the one as said he only
wished he could have caught hold of you, nmm, if you i)lease, the
other night.

!Mrs. Sandboys gave a faint scream at the bare idea of such au
accident having occurred to her ; and feeling in no Avay inclined to
continue the conversation, after the unpleasant turn it had taken, she
desired the girl to go below, and take good care how she trusted her-
self again within a mile of those impudent foreigners.

Some two or three days after the above occurrence, Mrs. Wewitz, who
now began to keep a strict eye upon all the movements of the
detachment of the Garde Xatioiude quartered within her domicile,
hastened up to the sitting-room of Mrs. Sandboys to inform her that
she verily believed every one of the fellows had left the house for a
stroll. She had coimted forty-seven of them go out of the gate, and
she was convince<l she must have made a mistake of one somewhere,
for though she had been up to their room, and listened at the door
for nearly half-an-hour, slie could not hear a .soul stirring — and now
she added, " My dear, it will be a good opportunity for us to see the
state in wliich the room really is, for, with the exception of Ann
Lightfoot, not a creature lias ever been in it — no, nut even to make
their beds, since the first day they took possession of the place."

^Irs. Saudbo}.s was as eager for the survey as ^Irs. Wewit;^ licrself.

126 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

and accordingly they started off together, intent upon having what the
ladies called a " good rout out" of all the things during the absence
of the Frenchmen.

On reaching the bedroom, they stood for some few minutes outside,
listening, but hearing no sound within, they ventured to push the
door open, so that they might be able to have a full view of the
apartment, and satisfy themselves of there being no one in it before
they ventured upon entering.

Not a creature was to be seen, so the two ladies crept cautiously
in ; and no sooner did Mrs. Wewitz set eyes on the cotfee colour of
the once white dimity bed-curtains, than she threw up her hands, as
if in despair of ever seeing them a " good cohjur" again. Then
placing the corner of the counterpane to her nose, the smell of stale
tobacco was almost overpowering. How she should ever sweeten
them for the young ladies, was more than she could tell.

Mrs. Sandboys next drew her attention to the state of the boards —
the very boards which it was her pride to hear all who saw them say
they could eat their dinner off them — and now, owing to the four
dozen foreigners not possessing so much as one spittoon among them,
they were stained over with the juice and ashes of tobacco. The
bri"-ht bars and sides of the stove, too, were all spotted red with
rust.

On a chair in the middle of the room stood the blacking bottle
and brushes, and beside them, on one of the white toilet- covered
tables, was a basin half full of inky water, in Avhich the gallant sons
of " la belle France " had recently rinsed their hands and faces — near
this was a bottle of bandoline for gumming down the hair, and an old
tooth-brush standing up in it — the only tooth-brush to be seen in the
place. Lying next to these was a dirty, mangy-looking hair-brush, with
several sticks of different coloured cires de moustache — looking like
the ends of candles — and a bottle of lavender water. On the mantel-
piece stood a pair of curling-tongs, a leaden whisker-comb, and a pot
of patent polish for the boots, while above were ranged the entire
pipes of the fraternity. Pinned to a string that stretched across the
room from bed to bed, hung a couple of shirt fronts, left to dry,
too'ether with several dozen pairs of fresh-cleaned, lemon-coloured kid
gloves, that emitted a strong smell of turpentine.

As the two ladies " poked about" the apartment, each seemed to
find especial delight in dragging the other to witness some fresh evi-
dence of filth or foppery that she had just discovered; and while
they were thus agreeably engaged, speaking in whispers to one another,
Mrs. Sandboys, who had ventured to stray further into the depths of
the apartment than the more cautious Mrs. Wewitz, had almost
reached the end of the chamber, when, to her horror, she discovered
some one fast asleep in one of the beds. All that was visible above
the clothes was the upper part of a head, profusely done up in curl
papers,

Mrs. Sandboys no sooner caught sight of the " crackers,"' than,
breathless with indignation, she hurried back, on tip-toe, to her com

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 127

pardon, and whispered in her ear, " My dear, there's a woman in one
of the beds !"

"A wo !"' Mrs. We\\'itz was about to scream, when Aggy placed

her hand on the hidy's mouth.

'• Yes, a woman, my love ! I tell tha I saw her curl-papers,"' ejacu-
lated Mrs. Sandboys, in a subdued tone of the deepest horror.

'• The wretches!" cried Mrs. Wewitz, " they'll be the ruin of us all —
they will; but I'll soon have the hussy out!" and so saying she hur-
ried towards the bed which Mrs. Sandboys had indicated ; and seizing
the sleeper by the shoulders, began shaking the individual violently.

The suddenness and severity of the agitation roused the slumberer,
when lifting his head up from under the clothes, he displayed to the
terrified ladies a huge beard and pair of mustachios.

" Its a brute of a man, after all ! " screamed Mrs. Wewitz, as she let
go the shoulders of the hirsute Parisian.

'• Goodness, gracious ! " shrieked Mrs. Sandboys, and away they
both scampered out of the apartment.

As they hastened back to their sitting-room, they met Ann Light-
foot ou one of the landings, and conuuunicating to her what had
happened, the girl begged to know whether the man's beard was red ?

On being answered in the affirmative, she told the hoiTor-stricken
}.Irs. Sandboys that it was the same man as had run after her the
other night, and who assured her yesterday that he only wished he
could have caught her; he'd have served her out finely.

" He was the \\'ust of the whole ])unch," Ann Lightfoot said.

Mrs. Sandboys gave a faint ".cream, for, as she observed to !Mrs.
Wewitz, she sliouldn't wonder but what the nasty hairy brute of a
fellow would be imagining that she was in love witli him, and then
what on earth Avould become of her !

CHAPTER XII.

" Do, walk in, gentlemen, walk in.

The price is only tlireepence.
We're just a-going to begin —

You two step in for fi'peuce.
You ne'er havf -seen in iill your days,

So fine 11 sliow ns tliis is ;
Go wbt'ie we will, it gains tlie jn-nise

Of gentlurueu and misses.

» * ♦ -k jH

" Sec hurtlumdurdum, dust an' din,
\Vi' Kliowman mi' physician.
You'd think that they nieeghl Babel fin'
C'luhs'd for u new edition."

Cumht:it(ind Hoiiij.

Tin-: loiJg-l<jok('d-for first of May, iKol, had at h-ngtli arrived, and
the morning was ushered in with merry j»eal8 from almost «vcry
steeple ; afar olf the drone of tlic thousand bells souinlcd like the

12^ 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTUKES OF

boom of a huge gong — the signal, as ifc were, for the swarming of the
Groat Hive.

For miles round all wore a holiday aspect ; the work-people with
clean and smiling faces, and decked out in all the bright colours of
their tSunday attire, were up and about shortly after daybreak, and,
■with their bundle of provisions on their arms, were soon seen stream-
ing along the road, like so many living rays, converging towards the
Crystal focus of the World.

It was the great Jubilee of art and industry, to which almost
every corner of the earth had sent some token of its skill and
l)rotherly feeling, and to which the inhabitants of the most distant
climes had come, each to gaze at the science and handicraft of the
other. Never was labour — whether mental or manual, whether the
craft of the hand or of the brain — so much honoured — the first great
recognition, perhaps, of the artistic qualities of the artizan.

"\Vith the first gleam of daylight, the boys of London, ever foremost
at a sight, had taken up their places in the trees, like their im2:)udent
counterparts, the London sparrows, and men and women grouped
round the rails, determined at least to have a good place for seeing
the opening of the World's Show. Hammers were to be heard on
all sides, fastening the timbers of the wooden stages that were being
set up by the many Avho delight in holidays solely as a matter of
business. Some were pouring in at the Park-gates, laden with tables
and chairs for the sight-seers to stand xipon. Others again, came
with the omnipresent street provisions — huge trucks filled with
bottles of ginger beer — baskets of gingerbread and " fatty cakes"
— and tins of brandy-balls and hardbake — while from every quarter
there streamed girls and women with round wicker sieves piled
up in pyramids with oranges. Then there were the women with
the brown-looking trotters, spread on white cloths, and the men
with their ham sandwiches, as thin as if made out of whitey-brown
paper ; while at the gates and all along the roads, stood men with
trays of bright silvery looking medals of the Ciystal Palace, and filling
the air with the cheapness and attractions of their wares. Nor were the
beggars absent from the scene, for in every direction along which the
great mass of people came pouring, there were the blind and the
crippled, reaping their holiday harvest.

As the morning advanced the crowds that came straggling on, grew
denser and denser, till at last it was one compact kind of road, paved
with heads j and on they went — fathers with their wives and children,
:;;kipping jauntily along, and youths with their gaily-dressed sweet-
hearts, in lively-coloured shawls and ribbons — and many — early as it
Avas — munching apples, or cracking nuts as they trudged on their
way.

A 11 London, and lilf the conntr}-, and a good part of the world, were
wending their way to see the Queen pass in state on her way to open
the

GREAT EXHIBITION OF ALL NATIONS,

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 129

CHAPTEK XIII.

" See frae a' quarters, east and west,
I' drwoves th' country coman,
Whevle flocks o' naigs an' kye are press'd

By flocks o' men au' women;
Buss'd i' their best tlie blythesome troop

Bang forrat belter skelter,
Wbeyle monny 'mang the mingled group
0' th' geat war fit to swelter

Wi' heat that day.

Wliist I what's you noise amang yon crowd,

You rantiu' an' huzzain?
"Whar trumpets skirl an' drums beat loud,

An' organs sweet are plejin.''

Eosley Fair.

The Great Exhibition of the Industry of all Countries is the first
public national expression ever made in this country, as to the dignity
and artistic quality of labour.

Our " working men," until within the last few years, Ave have been
in the habit of looking upon as mere labourers — as muscular machines
— creatures with whom the spinning-jenny and the power-loom
might be brought into competition, and whom the sense of fatigue,
and consequent demand for rest, rendered immeasurably inferior "as
producers," to the instruments of brass and iron.

It is only within the last ten years, perhaps, that we have got to
acknowledge the artistic and intellectual quality of many forms of
manual labour, speaking of certain classes of operatives no longer
as handicraftsmen — that is to say, as men who, from long habit,
acquired a dexterity of finger which fitted them for the " automatic "
performance of certain operations, — but styling them artisans, or
the artists of our manufactures. It is because we have been so slow
to perceive and express this " great fact " — the artistic character of
artisanship — that so much intellectual power has been lost to society,
and there has been so much more toil and suffering in the world than
there has been any necessity for.

Had we, as a really great people, been impressed with the sense of
the heavy debt we owed to labour, we should long ago have sought to
acknowledge and respect the mental operations connected with many
forms of it, and have striven to have ennobled and embellished and
enlivened the intellect of those several modes of industry that still
remained as purely physical employments among us. Had the men
of mind done as much for the men of labour, as these had dune for
those, we might long ago have learmd how to have made toil
I)lcasant rather than irksome, and to have rendered it noble instead
of mean.

The ploughman, at the tail of the plough, has been allowed to coa*

K

130 ]S51; on, the adventures of

tinue with us almost the same animal as the horses in front of it,
with, no other incentive to work hut the craving of his stomach.

Had we striven to elevate ploughing into an art, and tlie plough-
man into an artist — teaching him to understand the several suhtle
laws and forces concerned in the cultivation of every plant — and
more especially of those with which he was dealing — had we thus
made the turning up of the soil not a brute operation, but an intel-
lectual process, we might have rendered the work a pleasure, and the
workman a man of thought, dignity, and refinement.

As yet, the art-exhibitions of this country have been confined
solely to the handiworks of artists-proper. We have been led to
suppose, by the restricted sense which we have given to the term
artist, that Art was confined solely to the several forms of pleasing —
pictorially, musically, or litei'arily. A more com^orehensive view of
the subject, however, is now teaching us that the different modes of
operating on the intellectual emotions, of attracting attention, of
exciting interest", of producing a feeling of astonishment, beauty,
sublimity, or ludicrousness in others, are but one sj^ecies of Art, for
not only are the means of affecting the intellect, of inducing a sense of
truth and causation an equally artistic operation, but, assuredly, the
affection of material objects in a desired manner is just as worthy of
being ranked in the same category. Whether the wished-for object
be to operate upon mental, moral, or physical nature — whether it be
to induce in the intellect, the heart, or the unconscious substances
around us a certain predetermined state, such an end can be brought
about solely by conforming to the laws of the object on which we
seek to operate.

Art, literally rendered, is cunning, and cunning is "kenning," or
knowing. It means, simply and strictly, intellectual power. Ars is
the power of mind, in contradistinction to the In-ers, or power of
matter.

Art, therefore, is merely the exercise of the mind towards a certain
object — that express operation of the intellect which enables us to
comj)ass our intentions, no matter what the object may be — whether
to convince, to astonish, to convulse with laughter, to charm with
beauty, to overwhelm with the sense of the sublime, or even to
extract metal from the ore, or weave the fibres of a plant into
a covering for the body — each of these processes differs, not in the
intellectual operation, but solely in the nature of the substances
operated upon, every one requiring the knowledge of a different set of
laws, and thus, in most instances, necessitating a distinct operator.

Such are the marvellous effects of some of the more ordinary arts
of civilization. Art, it has been said, lies simply in the adaptation of
the means to the end — the more cunning or knowing this adaptation
appears — that is to say, the greater the knowledge, intuitive or
acquired, that it evinces, or is felt to I'equire, the greater, of course, is
the art, or, in other words, the more art-fid the process becomes.
•As yet, but few modes of industry in this country have been ren-

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 131

dered artistic; our handicraftsmen have remained pure mechanics,
because wanting that knowledge which alone could convert their ope-
ration into an art; they have merely repeated, mechanically, the series
of acts that others had performed before them, while such processes
which had been elevated into intellectual exercises had been rendered
so by mere scientific knowle^lge.

By means of Mechanics' Institutes and cheap literature, we had so
extended the discoveries of our philosophers, that the truths of science
were, in many instances, no longer confined to the laboratory, the
observatory, or the library, but made to permeate the mine, the forge,
the workshop, the fectory, and the fields.

Still, it was only science that reached our working men.

Taste, as yet, was scarcely known to them.

A knowledge of the laws of nature might make better and more
cunning handicraftsmen, but a knowledge of the laws of pleasing
could alone render their works more elegant in design ; and, since
every material object must necessarily partake of form and colour, it
is surely as well it should be made to please as to displease the eye in
these qualities.

As yet we have sought to develop only the utilities of art — the
beautiful, as an essential element of all manufacture, we have entirely
neglected. As a stranger recently come among us, this defect appears
to have forced itself deeply into the mind of Prince Albert; for, as
far back as IS-IG, his Royal Highness urged upon a deputation that
waited upon him from the Society of Arts, that the department of that
Society " most likely to prove immediately beneficial to the public,
was that which encouraged, most eSiciently, the application of the
Fine Arts to the various manufactures of the country ;" and, added
the Prince, after speaking of the excellence and solidity of British
manufactures generally, " to wed mechanical skill with high art is a
task worthy of the Society of Arts, and directly in the path of its duty."

The Great Exhibition of the AVorks of Industry and Art of all
Nations is, then, the first attempt to dignify and refine toil ; and, by
collecting the several products of scientific and aesthetic art from
every quarter of the globe into one focus, to diflfuse a high standard of
excellence among our operatives, and thus to raise the artistic qualities
of labour, so that men, no longer working with their fingers alone,
shall find that which is now mere drudgery converted into a delight,
their intellects expanded, their natures softened, and their pursuits
ennobled by the process.

When milling becomes with us a geological art — when the agricul-
tural labourer is an organic chemist — when the feeder and breeder
of cattle is an experimental physiologist — when, indeed, every handi-
craft is made both a scientific and a;sthetic operation — then, and then
alone, will the handicraftsmen hold that high and honourable jjosition
in the country, which, as the producers of all our wealth — as those to
whom we owe our every comfort and luxury, they ought most as-
suredly to occupy.

K '2.

132 1851; OR, the adventures of

The Great Exhibition is a higher boon to labour than a general
advance of wages. An increase of pay might have brought tlie work-
ing men a hirgcr share of creature comforts, but high feeding, un-
fortunately, is not high thinking nor higli feeling.

Anything which tends to elevate thfe automatic operation of the
mere lal)ourer to the dignity of an artistic process, tends to confer on
the working classes the greatest possible benefit.

Such appears to be the probable issue of the Great Exhibition !

Nor can we conceive a nobler pride than that which must be felt
by working men when they behold arranged all around them the
several trophies and triumphs of labour over the elements of the
whole material universe. The sight cannot fail to inspire them with
a sense of their position in the State, and to increase their self-resj^ect
in the same ratio as it must tend to increase the respect of all others
for their vocation.

London, for some time previous to the opening of the Great Exhi-
bition, had been a curious sight even to Londoners. In all the main
thoroughfares, especially those leading from the railways and the
docks, heavy vans, piled high Avith unwieldy packing-cases, or laden
with some cumbrous machine, and drawn by a long team of horses,
crawled along, creaking, on their way towards the Crystal Palace.
The greater part of the principal streets were being repaired, pre-
paratory to the increased traffic; shops were being newly-painted
and newspapers Avere announcing in huge placards that they pro-
posed publishing supplements in sevei'al languages.

In almost every omnibus, some two or three foreigners were to be
seen among the passengers, — either some light-haired Germans, or
high-cheeked Americans, or sallow Turks, with their " fez-caps" of
scarlet cloth. In the pit of the theatres. Chinamen, Avith their pecu-
liar slanting eyes, and old-AVoman-like look and dress, might occa-
sionally be perceived gaping Avith Avonder at the scene; Avhile from
the number of gentlemen in beards, felt-hats, and full pantaloons,
visible at the West-end, Eegent-street had much the Anglo-Frenchi-
fied character of Boulogne-sur-Mer.

New amusements Avere daily springing into existence, or old ones
being revived. The Chinese Collection had returned to the Metro-
polis, Avith a family from Pekin, and a lady Avith feet tAA'o inches and
a half long, as a proof of the superior standing fA\e had in society;
Mr. Catlin had re-opened his Indian exhibition; Mr. Wyld had
bought up the interior of Leicester Square, Avith the view of cram-
ming into it — "yea, the great globe itself!" The geographical pano-
ramas had i-apidly increased, no less than three Jei'usalems haA'ing
been hatched, as it Avere, by steam — like eggs, by the patent incubator
— Avitliin the last three Aveeks. " Australia" and " New Zealand,"
like floating islands, had shifted their quarters from ]\Iiss LiuAvood's
Gallery to the Strand, Avhile the cost of immigTating thither for half-
au-hour Avas reduced from sixpence for each country, to "three-pence all

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SAXDBOYS. .185

the way;" while those who felt indisposed for so long a journey,
could make the " Graud Tour of Europe"' for one shilling, or take the
" Overland Route to India" for the same price, or be set down by the
AVaterloo omnibus at the entrance to the " Dardanelles," and see all
over " Constantinople" for less than a trip to Gravesend.

The road to the Crystal Palace had for a long time been an extra-
. ordinary scene. Extensive trains of waggons stretched far away, like
an Eastern caravan, each waiting for its turn to be unloaded, mono-
polised one side of the carriage-way. Omnibuses, with their roofs
crowded with people, went dashing by, while carts laden with building
materials crept leisurely along.

At almost every one of the public-houses some huge flag was flying
from the upper windows, and around the doors were groups of men and
soldiers either about to enter or depart. Along the edge of the foot-
path stood hawkers, shouting out the attractions of their wares — some
had trays filled with bright silveiy-looking medals of the Exhibition —
others, pictures of it printed in gold on '-'gelatine cards" — while others
had merely barrows of nuts, baskets of oranges or trucks of the omni-
present penny ginger-beer.

Groups of foreigners, their beards yellow with dust, walked along
with their hands stuck in their pockets, so as to make their full
pantaloons even fuller than ordinary ; and as the omnibuses stopped
to " pick up" or " set down" their passengers, parties of Germans or
Frenchmen were heard jabbering loudly within. Along Rotten-row,
endless troops of equestrians galloped noiselessly along on the soft
loose ground at the rear of the Crystal Palace — in front of it an
interminable line of carriages drawled slowly past, and while some of
those withui thrust their heads out at the windows, others leant
back, so as to be able to see the height or length of the giant
building.

On every side were mobs of spectators pressing close up to the
rails, and standing on tip-toe, with their necks out-stretched, in the
hope of getting a peep of what was going on within. All along the
building were ladders, one beside each of the columns, with painters
perched high upon them, busy colouring the iron-work against the
opening day. On top of the huge glass arch that formed the roof of
the transept, the tiny figures of workmen were to be seen, some
walking along the crystal covering, and making one wonder how the
fragile substance bore them.

At the end of the building were steam-engines puffing out their
white clouds of steam, and amid the debris of a thousand packing-
cases stood giant blocks of granite, mammoth lumps of coal, stupen-
dous anchoi-s, and such huge articles as were too bulky to be placed
within the building itself.

All was bustle, life, confusion, and amazement.

Those who were not working, were wondering at those who were;
and many, as they looked at what still remained to be done, shook
. their heads in doubt as to the possibility of completing it against the
appointed time.

Nor wad it difficult to read disappointment in the countenances of

134 1851; OR, the adventures of

the new-comers on their first beholding the building. To say the
truth, the engravings and the imagination had tailed to convey any
adequate notion of the structure. The very name of the Crystal
Palace had led people to conjure up in their minds a phantasm that
could not be realized — a transparent editice, pellucid as if built of
blocks of ice instead of stone — a prismatic kind of fairy mansion,
glittering in the sun, and breaking xip and scattering the light all
around in a thousand rainbow tints.

But how ditferent the scene on the earliest dawn of the morrow !

Then to stand in tlie centre of the huge crystal pile, and cast the
eye thence in any direction, was indeed to behold a sight that had no
parallel in excellence. The exquisite lightness and tone of colour
that pervaded the entire structure was a visual feast, and a rare
delight of air, colour, and space. The vitrious material which outside
was to be seen only in one point, here appeared really to form the
sides and roof of the entire building, Avhile the combined etfeet of the
three " primary" colours of the decorations showed with Avhat rare
artistic skill and exquisite aesthetic appreciation they had been put
together. It seemed more like one harmonious tone — a concert of
mellifluous tints — than mere painting. A kind of coloured rainbowy
air appeared to pervade the whole building, while, as the eye travelled
down the long vista of galleries, and beheld the forms and tints at the
end of the avenues, dimmed by the haze of distance, one was struck
with a solemn sense of the majesty of the building.

Before the 1st of May, 1851, it was impossible to form an adequate
idea of the magnificence of the scene which was to render its opening
memorable for all time. Those who the day before had made the journey
of the avenues from end to end, above and below, could not have
believed it possible that in so few hours so great a change could have
been wrought.

There was the glass fountain in the centre of the building, shining,
as the sun's rays came slanting down upon it through the crystal
roofs, as if it had been carved ou.t of icicles, or as if the water stream-
ing from the fountain had been made suddenly solid, and transfixed
into beautiful forms. In the machine-room, with its seeming infinity
of engines puffing and twirling away, were the " self-acting mules" at
work, drawing out almost spontaneously „their long lines of threads, as
if from a thousand spiders ; the huge Jacquard lace machines were
busy weaving the finest embroidered "edgings;" the pumps were
throwing up their huge cascades of Avater, while the steam printing-
press was whirling its vast sheets through a maze of tapes, and then
pouring them forth, one after another, impressed with a whole firma-
ment of " signs and symbols ;" the envelope machine, with its magic
*' finger" — the power-looms — the model locomotives — the centrifugal
pumps — the horizontal and vertical steam-engines — were each and all
at work — snorting, whirring, and clattering. There was the canopy
above the royal seat, and adorned with its golden cornice and fringe,
and with a small plume of blue and white feathers at each of its angles.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 135

The floors were no longer strewn, but clean and matted, and at each
corner of the central square, stages had been raised for the most illus-
trious visitors. As you glanced down the avenues, objects of exquisite
texture, form, or colour, everywhere saluted the eye. From the top
of the galleries were hung huge carpets and pieces of tapestry, gor-
geous in their tints, and exquisite in their designs. Here was reared,
high towards the crystal roof, the " Spitalfields trophy," from the top
of which hung the richest silks, with their glossy colours variegated
with tints and forms of surpassing beauty ; and looking still farther
down the nave, the eye could just catch sight of the colossal mirror,
set in its massive gilt frame, and mounted on crimson cloth. At
every corner were statues, made doubly white by the scarlet drapery-
arranged behind them, while immediately at the back of the throne
were two equestrian statues of the Prince and Queen, one on either
side. Behind these was another fountain, that made the stream, as it
rushed up from the centre and divided itself into a hundred drops,
flasliing in the sun as they fell, look like a shower of silver sparks — a
kind of firC'Work of water; and beside this rose the green plumage of
the palm-trees embedded in moss, while close at their feet was ranged
a bed of flowers, whose tints seemed to have been dyed by the pris-
matic hues of the water-drops of the neighbouring fountain. Then
appeared the old elm-trees of the park, looking almost like the lions
of the forest caught in a net of glass ; and behind them again was a
screen of iron tracery, so light and delicate that it seemed like a lace-
work of bronze.

The opposite side of the transept was filled with sight-seers, and
the galleries, around and all along, as far as the eye could stretch,
were dotted over with the yellow, white, and pink bonnets of the fairer
portion of the company.

But it was when the retinue of the court began to assemble that
the scene became one — perhaps the most gorgeous in colouring and
splendour ever beheld ; for it was seen in the clear light of the trans-
parent roof above. The gold embroidered bosoms of the officers of
hJtate seemed to be almost alight with the glitter of their ornaments;
and as the ambassadors of all nations stood grouped in the centre, the
various forms and colours and embellishments of their costumes were
a sight to see and never to forget.

There stood all the ministers of state in their glittering suits ; the
ambassadors of every country, some in light blue and silver, others in
green and gold, and others in white, with their bosoms studded with
their many-coloured " orders." There was the Chinese mandarin in
his red cap, with peacock's feathers dangling behind, and his silken
robes with quaint devices painted upon them in front and at the back.
There was the turbaned Turk, and the red fez-cappcd Egyptian ; and
there were the chocolate-coloured court suits, with their filagree steel
buttons, and long, white, embroidered silk waistcoats.

There was the old Duke, too, with his silver hair and crooked back
showing most conspicuous amongst the whole. At the back and sides

136 1851 ; OR, the adventukes of

of the throne, stood the gentlemen-at-arms, iu their goklen hehnets,
with the long plumes of white ribbon-like feathers droojnng over
them. Beside these were the portlj'-lookiug beef-eaters, iu their red
suits and black velvet caps ; and near them were the trumpeters, in
their golden coats and close-fitting jockey-caps, with silver trumpets
in their hands. Near these were the Aldermen, in their red gowns of
office, trimmed with fur; and the Common-eouncilmen, in their
blue silk gowns; and the Recorder, in long, big, powdered judge's wig
— the Archbishop, in full lawn sleeves, and close, curly wig — and the
'• Musical Doctor," in his white satin, damask robe, and quaint-looking
black cap — and the heralds in their blue silk robes, emblazoned with
gold-looking lions, and other silken devices — and the Garter King-at-
Arms, iu his gorgeous red velvet coat, becrested all over in gold —
while, round all these were ranged sappers and miners, iu their red
and yellow uniforms ; and behind them were seen the dark blue coats
of the police.

It was a feast of colour and splendour to sit and gloat over — a
congress of all the nations for the most hallowed and blessed of
objects — one, perhaps, that made the two old soldiers, as they tottered
backwards and forwards across the scene, the most noticeable,
because iu such a gathering for such an object, the mind could
hardly help looking ujion them as the last of the warriors to whom
the nation would owe its future greatness.

At a fcAv minutes before the appointed hour, the royal carriages
with their bright liveries were seen to flash past the windows of the
northern entrance — then darted by a troop of the Life Guards, with
their steel helmets and brea&t-plates glistening in the sunshine, and
immediately after, the glass sides and roof of the Crystal Palace
twanged with the floui'ish of trumpets, that announced the arrival of
the Queen.

At this moment the gates were flung back, and within the crimson
vestibule appeared a blaze of gold and bright colours.

Then advanced the royal retinue, with the ushers and chamberlain
in front, bowing as they moved backwards towards the throne ; and
after them the Prince leading the Princess Royal, and the Queen with
the Prince of Wales, and followed by their court.

The equerries, in their golden-striped coats and powdered hair, and
the Life Guards with their glittering steel accoutrements, brought up
the rear, and formed the background to such a picture as could be
seen perhaps in no other country but England.

As the Queen moved onwards with her diamond tiara and little
crown of brilliants scintillating in the light, the whole assembly rose,
• and waving their hats and fluttering their handkerchiefs, they shouted
forth peal after peal of welcome.

Then was sung the National Anthem — the white head and bright
blue coat of the courtly old leader appeared in the red rostrum raised
above the royal entrance, and high in the air his baton might be seen
waving to and fro ; while, as the " melodious thunder" of tbe organ

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 137

rolled tlirougli the building, the choristers in their white robes chanted
in the rich unison of many voices.

The Archbishop then invoked a blessing on the objects of the
building — this was followed by a chorus sung in exquisite harmony
by the large band of singers — and then the Queen and Prince, pre-
ceded by tiie officers of state, walked round the building in procession;
while, as she went, the people who lined the nave and galleries
saluted her and her consort with their acclamations.

On her Majesty declaring the Exhibition opened, there followed
another flourish of trumpets, and the gorgeous ceremony was at an
end. Immediately were heard the booming of the hundred guns
without, telling the people of the metropolis that the Great Exhibi-
tion of the Industry of all Nations had been formally inaugurated.

And well may the nation be proud of its Crystal Palace. ^ No other
people in the world could have raised such a building — without one
shilling being drawn from the national resources, or have stocked it
with the same marvellous triumphs of industry and art. The
machine-room alone, with its thousand iron monsters snorting and
clattering, was a sight to overwhelm the mind with a positive sense
of awe ; "stories were current of many of the strongest minds having
been affected to tears at the spectacle; and most assuredly, Avhat
with the noise and the motion, there was a sense of reverent humiHty
forced upon the mind, together with a feeling of gratitude to the
Almighty, who had vouchsafed to confer upon us so nmch of his own
power, that filled the bosom with the very pathos of admiration.

You might wander where you pleased — to " France"' — and see the
exquisite tapestry ; you might step across to " Austria" — and wonder
at the carving of the furniture ; but though beneath the crystal roof
were ranged all the choicest works of the whole world, there was
nothing in any way comparable for skill, for mind, for work — nothing
so plain, so solid, and yet so eminently handsome — notliiiig, indeed,
so thoroughly English as that iron type of our indomitable energy to
be found in the machinery.

One glance Avas quite sufficient to account for the greatness of the
nation to which it belonged !

The foreigners appeared to be in no way prepared ^ for so^ over-
powering an example of England's inuneasurable pre-eminence in this
respect. And it was curious to see the Frenchmen and CJermans
grouped round the several machines in operation, with their noses
almost touching the wheels, as tliey vainly endeavoured to niake
themselves actjuainted with tlieir bewildering details ; nor was it less
interesting to notice the innocent pride which the attendants a])i>wued
to take in pointing out to the visitors of other nations the uses of the
several ])arts of the complex tool.

But if the machinery def)artmcnt were especially attractive for the
striking evidence it ailbrded of the supremacy of this nation over uU
others in mechanical g(;nius and industry — cxiiibiting at once the
cause and efiect of Dritaiu's greatness — assuredly the mineral

138 1851; OR, the adventures of

department, though having less surface attractions, still displayed our
peculiar national characteristics. Without our coaband Avithout our
iron, where would have been our machinery ?

Watt, Arkwright, tSteven.son, born in another quarter ""of the globe
that possessed less metallic treasures, might have lived and died mere
clods perhaps, removed from the minerals that were necessaiy both to
the production and achievement of their genius ; and more marvel-
lous than all is it, after having cast the eye over the several huge
lumps of ore that here are to be seen, to pass into the several
branches of manufactures, and behold the things of special interest
that the skill and genius of man have learned to fashion them into —
to contrast the dull-looking iron ore with the glittering, bright-
polished, and sharp-edged steel instruments that are made from it —
to see the opaque and powdery sand, and then behold the pellucid and
massive glass fountains, chandeliers, and vases into which we have
learned to convert it.

CHAPTEK XIV.

" But now the lang-expected mworu
Of murriment ariives,
Wbeyle belter-skelter frae a' airts

r swarms the country drives,
The lasses in their feyne pearce claes,

The lads baith trig an' souple ;
Ower hill an' knovve, thro' seugb an' sowe.
Comes tifiau many o' couple

Hauf saim'd that day.

" Frae Angerton Wheyte to Dubbmill,
Hin Biist, as yen may say,
But a' wi' yae consent seem'd met

To menee this merry day.
Wbeyle Allonby turn'd out en masse,
Ding-dang, baith man an' vroman.
An' parlish pranks 'niaug Silloth banks
They bed as they were comiu'

To tb' town that day.

" But it wad need a Homer's head
War I to tak' in ban',
To sing or say what fwok that day

War there, or bow they wan ;
So far and near, an' God kens wbare,

By common invitation,
Wi' young an' auld, an' great an' laal,
Seem'd met on this ocjcasion,

Wi' glee that day."

Cumberland Poem,

In the ardour of our admiration at the Crystal Palace, ne have for-
gotten the Hero of our story, the simple, but ill-starred individual,
who quitted his native mountains with the special view of beholding
the wonders of the Great Exhibition.

Like all those who could spare the money, and like many who

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 139

could not, Mr. Christopher Sandboys, at the special injunction of his
beloved Aggy, had made up his mind to invest five golden pieces of
the lawful and current coin of Great Britain in the purchase of a
brace of admission-tickets for himself and his better half, so that he
and his "good lady" might join the rest of the Avorld in witnessing
the ceremony of the inauguration.

After a series of visits, first to ^Ir. Sams the librai-ian, thence to
the Society of Arts in John-street, and thence to the office of the
Executive Committee, Christopher was at last permitted, as a special
favour, to convert his five sovereigns into two small pieces of paste-
board, entitling himself and his wife to the right of admission to the
Crystal Palace throughout the season. Having achieved this great
feat, he made the best of his way back to the partner of his bosom,
to gratify her with the tidings of the successful issue of his errand.

Then, of course, came the important inquiry as to what dress
Mrs. Sandboys should make her appearance in at the ceremony, and
it was unanimously declared, as usual, that the lady had not "a thing
to put on ;" woman like, she had much rather stay at home unless
she could appear '•' decent, at least," on the auspicious occasion ; she
had no particular wish to go, and Cursty could take Jobby with him
in her place.

Mr. Christopher Sandboys, though he found that his funds — what
■with the losses and expenses that he had incurred since his departure
from Cumberland — were getting unpleasantly low, still, to obtain
that domestic peace and quietude, which, as an aspiring philosopher,
he valued above all earthly things, at length, with becoming resigna-
tion, submitted to the infliction of a new dress, a mantle, and bonnet
for the occasion.

On the eventful morning, Mrs. Sandboys was up and stirring long
before the sparrows, and they, according to the celebrated ornitho-
logist (who sat up every night for a whole year, in order to discover
the usual hours of getting up among the different species of the
feathered race), are the earliest risers of all the early birds. 'Nov
would the im})atient Aggy allow Cursty to enjoy those extra forty
winks for which he pi-aycd, before proceeding to the operations of his
toilet.

But though Mrs. Sandboys was going to take part in the opening
of the Great Exhibition, Ann Lightfoot, her maid, felt in no way
inclined to have her night"s rest curtailed of its fair proportion, in
order that Mr. Sandboys' shaving-water might be ready some few
hours before the usual time.

It was in vain that Mrs. Sandboys pulled, and pulled, at the bed-
room bell ; for thougli peal followed peal in smart succession, still
no Ann Lightfoot made her aj)pearance in answer to the sunimous.

At length the patience of ilrs. Sandboys became exhausted ; for,
though it was hardly daylight, she felt satisfied tlicy would be hours
too late for the ceremony, unless the tedious ()j)urati()n of shaving
could be inmiediatcly ])crfijrmed by her iiusbaud; and the lady ac-
cordingly insisted that Mr. Sandboys should .sUp on his trousers and

■14=0 ISol ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

proceed to tlie maid's door, with tlie view of rousing the sluggard
irom her slumbers. She would go herself, she said, but swarming as
the establishment was with foreigners, and eonsidering her late perilous
adventure with one of the French lodgers, she did not consider it
j)rudent to hazard a repetition of the circumstances.

Cursty therefore proceeded to do the bidding of his wife, and
groping his way in the twilight — for it was not yet morning — to the
apartment of their serving-niaid, he mounted the stairs as softly as he
could, so that he might not alarm the other sleepers in the house.

On gaining the landing that led to Ann Lightfoot's room, the
sounds of a gentle taj)ping caught jNIr. Sandboys' ear, and in the
dusk he could just perceive the figure of a man standing outside the
door. He paused for a minute, and then heard the individual, as he
softly repeated the tapping, request, in broken English, that the " angel"
Avould get uj) and heat him a fiat iron at the kitchen fire.

Now Mr. Sandboys had been informed by the partner of his
fortunes and four-poster of the pattern of a huge pair of moustachios,
in black Avax, having been discovered imprinted on the cheek of Ann
Lightfoot, after her late visit to the Frenchmen's apartment, and no
sooner heard the term " angel" applied to the maid, than immediately
a shrewd suspicion fiashed across his mind, that the individual then at
the girl's door was none other than the owner of the original mous-
tachios, of which Ann had borne away so faithful a copy.

In an instant he made a rush at the hirsute gentleman, and, seizing
him by the shoulders, proceeded to shake him violently, and to rate
him in no very gentle terms, threatening to throw the scoundrel over
the stairs.

The proprietor of the moustachios immediately grew as indignant
as the hot-blooded native of Cumberland, and declaring, with several
violent taps of his bosom, that his honour had been mortally wounded,
demanded the gentleman's card, in order that he might obtain satis-
faction for the insult.

Mr. Sandboys, though unused to such a mode of redressing injury,
and far more disposed to use his fists than pistols as a means of
settling a quarrel, still was sufficient of the gentleman to fall in upon
such an occasion with the French, rather than the English mode of
terminating a dispute. Accordingly he thrust his hand into his
breeches' pocket, and drawing forth his pocket book, gave the foreigner
the first piece of card-board that he could lay his hands upon, and
received in exchange the address of his adversary ; after which, having
seen the gentleman safely down the stairs, he proceeded to rouse the
girl, and then returned to his apartment.

Cursty, as he descended to his room, decided within himself that it
Avould be better not to inform his wife of the occurrence until he saw
what turn the affair might take. The consequence was, that his
pocket-book, once consigned to its usual abiding place, was not opened
again. This was especially unfortunate, for, had he done so, he
could not have failed to have discovered, that in the excitement of the
moment and the darkness of the morning he had parted with his
season-ticket to the Great Exhibition instead of his card of address.

MR. AND MKS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. J4[

At length the toilet of the Cumbrian couple was settled, and !Mr.
and Mrs. Sandboys j)roceeded forth on their ■way to the " World's
Show," happy in the unconsciousness of the loss they had sustained,
and overjoyed at the idea of the attainment of the object of their visit
to London being so near at hand.

After considerable difficulty, and some hours' delay, they were at
length able to procure a couple of seats in the Putney omnibus,
one " in," and the other " out." While Mrs. Sandboys was stowed
away in the interior of the vehicle, Cursty proceeded to mount
the roof, already covered with the sight-seers as thick as a house-top
on a coronation day. Mr. Sandl:»oys, being what his dearest Aggy
delighted to term a remarkably fine man, was no " feather-weight,"
and as he took his seat on the exterior of the long conveyance, the
roofing, already considerably depressed with the load, Avas seen to belly
downwards, very much like a fat sailor's hammock.

All went safely, however, until the omnibus reached the little bridge
that spans the muddy moat alongside of the Brompton Cemetery ;
here, as the vehicle gave a sudden jolt in ascending the curve of the
bridge, that minute increase of force which is said to break the back
of the over-b\irdened camel, was applied to the roof of the over-laden
vehicle. Crash ! went the boards directly beneath the seat of the
luckless Mr. Christopher Sandboys, and immediately the lower
extremities of the Cumberland gentleman Avere kicking and plunging
amidst the aff'righted " insides," committing a terrible amount of havoc
among the new or "best" bonnets and gowns of the ladies consigned
to the Exhibition.

As Fate would have it, Mrs. Sandboys no sooner heard the crash
and saw the legs, and recognised the pantaloons of her lord and master
dangling in the interior of the conveyance, than with a scream she
scrambled to his assistance. The consequence was that, with each
fresh plunge of the intruding limbs, some fresh damage was done to
the new lace mantilla, or white chip bonnet, that Mrs. Sandboys had
purchased expressly for the occasion.

And when, by the united cftbrts of the conductor and driver,
assisted by the strongest of the male passengers, poor Sandboys Avas
lifted out of his perilous situation, the Cumberland couple presented a
most melancholy spectacle : the nether garments of the wretched
Cursty were almost in the same tattered condition as when he had
made his first essay in pig-driving; while the flounces, the floAvers,
the ribbons, and laces of his beloved Aggy were nearly as dusty and
ragged-looking as cobAvebs.

At first, the couple felt inclined to return home, and abandon all
further attem])t3 at " enjoying themselves "' as a Aain and fruitless
endeavour; but on second thoughts, they could hardly make up their
minds, after the money they had invested in their season-tickets, to
forego the opjiortunity of being in'csent at a ceremony to which all the
Avorld seemed to be then flocking, eager to obtain the faiutest glimpse
of the hhow.

Accordingly tlie lady fiou<_dit out the nearest milliner's, and the

142 1851; OR, the adventures of

gentleman the shop of a neighbouring tailor, there to have their
garments cobbled into something like decency ; and after some half
hour's delay, they once more set forth on their journey, looking as
respectable and happy as was possible under the circumstances.

As they neared the Exhibition, the crowd of sight-seers became
more and more dense. The pathways were as black with human
beings as a grocer's window with flies in the dog-days, and the
carriage-Avays were filled with long lines of vehicles, jammed almost as
tight as the blocks in the wood pavement.

"On entering the Prince of Wales Gate, dense groups of people were
clustered round the south transept, clamouring and pushing their Avay
towards the doors. Upon the top of the building were several work-
men, fastening the flag-stafls of the various countries to their respective
positions, while here and there were seen flying the different national
ensigns.

It was as much as Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys could do to force their
way towards the doors. "When they had passed within the gates, and
the '-authorities" had demanded of the couple their tickets of admis-
sion, then the unconscious Cursty drew forth the pocket-book that
through all the crowd he had grasped firmly with his hand in his
pocket. On opening it, to his great dismay he discovered, for the
first time since his adventure, that the ticket which he had placed
securely in it among his cards on the previous evening was nowhere
to be found.

For a time he was utterly at a loss to conceive what could possibly
have come of the precious piece of pasteboard. At length, however,
as he turned his cards over and over again, his eye fell upon the name
and address of the Frenchman, and then the truth darted upon his
mind.

What was to be done 1

It was impossible to purchase another ticket at that time ; and for
Mrs. Sandboys to trust herself alone in such a crowd was more than
he or she felt inclined to hazard. And yet it was hard, — after all they
had gone through, in order to get to the Great Exhibition, — now that
they stood on the very threshold of the building, to be obliged to
return home.

Mr. Sandboys endeavoured to explain the circumstances to the
officei's; but many would not listen to him; those who did could
hardly refrain from laughing at his misfortune.

The authorities were ruthless ; and some, who were more suspicious,
and consequently did not hesitate to look upon the circumstance as a
trick to obtain admission to the building without payment, were more
unceremonious than the rest ; so, finding the gentleman still loitering
in the lobby, they at length thrust him and his lady outside the gates.
When Mr. Sandboys and his wufe had been ejected from the build-
ing, they stood for a few minutes looking with envy at the people
showing their cards, and obtaining admission to the interior. Cursty,
then, to his supreme annoyance, saw the identical Fi-enchman whom
he had encountered that morning at his maid's door present — what he

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 143

felt satisfied was the card that he himself had given him, aud pass in
t-o the interior of the building.

Ao-gv, to whom Llr. Sandboys had communicated all the circum-
stanceV immediately on the discovery of his loss, was convinced, from
the inquiry she had made, that the Frenchman, who had obtained
admission with their season ticket, was none other than the wretch
who had pursued her in the dead of the night through the corridors of
Miss Wewitz' establishment.

After vowing all kinds of vengeance against the foreigner, and
making up their minds to have justice done them immediately on their
return home, the Sandboys began to think, when their wrath had in a
measure cooled down, that, if Fate had denied them the privilege of
witnessing the "pageant" from the interior, which they had paid
the sum of five guineas to be enabled to do, they might as well, now
that they were there, make the best of their bargain, and enjoy a
gratuitous sight of the procession from without.

Accordingly, they proceeded to push their way, as well as they coiild,
towards the north side of the Transept, where they were informed the
Queen was to make her entrance. Here, on the Serpentine, a minia-
ture frigate lay at anchor ; and on board were several youths making
preparations for the royal salute. Youths and men were seen climb-
ing the trees on the south bank ; some sitting astride a forked branch,
and others standing on the spreading boughs ; while some few urchins,
who had attained the topmost part of the trees, caused the branches to
bend beneath their weight. Every minute the crowd round about
the building grew thicker; the pressure against the bars, and the
squeezing of the masses of people, grew greater and greater; so
that, when the police began to clear the road, aud to make way for the
carriages, that were rapidly advancing one after another with the
officers of State, the crush became terrific.

Mrs. Sandboys, eager to obtain a peep at the Queen at all risks,
was at first in no way daunted at the sight of the crowd, and sought,
under the care of her husband, to get as near as possible to the
Transept ; but though Cursty was as powerful a man as any there, it
was useless for him to strive to keep the pressure of the throng ofi' his
wife; they had not been in the thick of the crowd more than a
few minutes before — what with the police driving back the people in
front, and what with the people at the back pressing forwards — poor
Mrs. Sandboys was so crammed in and jammed in, so jostled and
hustled, and so pushed and crushed, that all of a sudden her senses
went from her, aud she fell like a lifeless lump into her Cursty's arms.
Then and then only was it possible for them to get extricated from
the dense mass of human beings that hemmed them in on all sides ; for
immediately it was made known that the lady had fainted, a passage
was mafic for Mr. Sandboys, so that he might carry her to some more
open part.

On " coming to herself," Aggy was in no way inclined to venture
into the crowd a second time ; and accordingly, she and her husband
proceeded, as best they could, to the other side of the Serpentine.

144 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

Here they stood for some little time on the bank, till, the multitude
growing inconveniently great as the hour for the opening drew
near, they both agreed that it ■would be far better and safer for them
to take a seat in one of the boats of the watermen, who were there
plying for hire up and down the river.

Their minds were no sooner made up on this point than they hailed
the first boatman that passed, and entering his wherry they proceeded
to seat themselves therein, and were rowed up and down the small
river tmder the safe conduct of the sculler.

This was pleasant enough for a short time, and the Sandboys
amused themselves by observing the freaks of the crowd. Across the
Park, they could see the people coming in streams from all directions,
like ants to a nest. There were men in flannel jackets; women with
children in their arms ; hawkers, some with Progi'ammes of the Pro-
cession, others Avith long panoramic pictures of the Lord Mayor's
Show fluttering in the wind, which they were crying as " a correct
view" of the opening of the Great Exhibition by the Queen in State ;
countrymen some in their smock-frocks, and others in their fluff"y beaver
hats. Never was there such a crowd congregated in any part of London,
and certainly in no other part of the world. The multitudes that
had entered the Building were but as a few grains of sand collected,
as it were, from the vast shore of human beings without.

It has been said that not less than half a million of people were
gathered together in the Parks alone, and doubtlessly with truth, for
it had been declared a general holiday, as it were by universal accla-
mation, throughout the metropolis.

Some few of the shops had opened for an hour or two, but finding-
all their customers had departed to the " Great Show," the masters
had followed their customers' example, and, putting up their shutters,
had started with their families to have a peep at the sight them-
selves. The omnibuses had many of them begun running from all
parts of the suburbs to the Crystal Palace from six o'clock in the
morning. The " Atlases," the " Paragons," the " Waterloos," the
" King's Crosses," the " Paddingtons," the " Camberwells," &c., had
all abandoned their accustomed routes, and taken to carry passengers,
for the time being, to Knightsbridge — many of them being covered
with large placards of " To the Exhibition," pasted over their wonted
destinations. Most of the 'busses, too, had a very gay appearance,
with their new reins and trappings, the large rosettes at their horses'
ears, and bows on their whips, with long streamers flying, and bunches
of flowers in the button-holes of the coachmen's coats.

Through the streets travelled excursion-vans, with the curtains fes-
tooned and looped up, with huge bunches of flowers and evergreens
at each fastening, and filled with holiday folk, Avith a table in the
centre, and a barrel of beer at the end.

Not a part of London but what had poured forth its countless
throngs. The main thoroughfares, that were usually almost impass-
able at mid-day, were as still and deserted as in the dead of night.
Not a cab was to be seen in the streets ; and even the fruit-stalls had
left their accustomed corners. The sparrows hopped and chirruped iu

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 145

the middle of the causeways. A stray Jack in the Green might occa-
sionally be seen, but though the musician blew his pipes with all his
might, and beat his drum with all his force, not a boy was to be drawn
after them — not a child to be attracted to the windows by the sound,
even thou'^h, owing to the stillness of the streets, the drum and pipes
sounded doubly as loud and shrill as usual.

Every one had gone to the Great Exhibition ! and certainly the
multitudes assembled in the Park were proof demonstrative of the fact.

The Sandboys, as they flitted across the Serpentine, could hear the
shouts of the people, as some well-known Minister or nol)lemau was
recognised in his carriage by the populace. Then, as they stood up in
the boat, they could catch sight of the bright breast-plates and helmets
of the Life Guards, as they galloped rajudly by. Next they could
see the scarlet and gold coats of the royal coachmen dart along between
the open spaces of the trees ; then they heard the hoarse cheers of
the multitude, as the Queen entered the Crystal Palace ; and they
saw the solitary Sapper-and-Miner, standing beside the flag-staff, on the
topmost curve of the crystal roof, hoist the Koyal Standard imme-
diately her Majesty crossed the threshold.

For a short time afterwards all was still and silent, with the excep-
tion of the cries of the hawkers, who, immediately that the cheers had
ceased, might be heard again shouting at the tops of their voices their
'•' full and correct Programmes of the Procession — only a penny."
Presently they could catch by gusts the faint sound of the organ,
peeling forth its full rich harmonious tones Avithin the Crystal
Palace.

Then the sculler pulled the boat down towards the spot where the
mimic frigate lay at anchor, so that Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys might see
the signal made, telling those on board that the Queen had declared
the Great Exhibition to be opened.

Once more they stood up in the boat, so as to obtain a better view
of the movements of the man on the roof. In a few minutes they
beheld the soldier prepare to raise the flag, and no sooner had he lifted
it hifli in the air, than the guns of the frigate thundered forth a deafeu-
inc " broadside." Poor Mrs. Sandboys was standing up in the boat with
her back to the frigate, and being in no way jirepared for the shock, she
was so startled with the suddenness and intensity of the noise, that
she staggered as if stunned by it, and fell back liead-foremost into the
river.

It was the act of a moment for Cursty to dive after her, and pre-
sently up the two came together.

Mrs. Sandboys, in her terror, threw her arras round about her
husband's neck, ho as effectually to prevent his rendering her the least
a.ssistance; and so tightly did she cling to him, that it was some con-
siderable time before even the waterman could manage to lift either
the one or the other into the boat.

In a short while, however, tlic men of the Humane Society were
on the spot, attracted by the shrieks of the affrighted Mrs. Sandboys
in tlic water, and the sympathizing ladies on the shore.

L

146 1851; OR, the adventures of

The wretclied Mrs. Sandboys, by the time she was extricated from
the flood, was, what with the friglit and the water she had swallowed,
almost insensible, while Cursty had been held down sufficiently long by
his wife in the river to feel " far from himself"

The moist and miserable couple were immediately carried to the
Society's Receiving House, where, having been stripped of their
drenched apparel, and placed in warm beds, the attendants proceeded,
some to rub them till they were nearly flayed, and others to inflate
their lungs, by means of a pair of bellows being inserted up their
nostrils.

Here they remained for some considerable time between the
blankets of the Humane Society, and when they were sufficiently in-
vigorated to be thought fit to leave the establishment, their dried
clothes were brought to them, in order that they might prepare for
their return home.

Mrs. Sandboys, when she saw the limp and ungainly state of her
two-guinea chip bonnet, the artificial flowers of which looked as if
they had been boiled, — for the colours had run one into the other, and
dyed the once white bonnet like " Joseph's coat of many colours," —
Mrs. Sandboys, we repeat, when she saw the wreck of her former
loveliness, could not help bursting into tears, and indulging in the
feminine luxury of a " good cry." Her green satin dress, which she
had bought, as they say, " expressly for the occasion," had lost all its
gloss and a good part of its colour, which had run into her petticoats,
till both the satin and under clothing were about as green and attrac-
tive as a gingham umbrella. Her bronze shoes she had left in the
bed of the river, there to astonish and puzzle some future geologist,
when examining the fossils in the miocene formation of the tertiary
deposits; her auburn front, too, had been unfortunately dried by a
quick fire, so that the foundation had shrivelled up, and the natural
parting had been scorched into a deep brown, while the hair looked as
fuzzy and rusty as cocoa-nut fibre.

At length, having made herself look as decent as she could under
the circumstances, and having been provided with a pair of list
slippers at the expense of the Society, Aggy was ushered into the
presence of the sharer of her sorrows and her " ducking;" and after
many mutual congratulations on their lucky escape, and consolations
under their afflictions, the melancholy Sandboys set out at dusk on
their way back to the establishment of Mrs. Wewitz; and as they
rode along in the cab, they did not forget to attribute the whole of
their disasters to that wretch of a Frenchman.

Before they reached " Parthenon House," they had formed the
conclusion that Fate had irrevocably forbid their ever seeing the
Great Exhibition; and come what may, they were determined imme-
diately to return to the peace and happiness of their native mountains
of Buttermere.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 147

CHAPTER XV.

" The justice flung them beatb in jail —

My faith ! what's duiu they'll sair repent."

Bad, News.

On reaching their temporary home, the Sandboys immediately
made inquiries as to whether the French gentleman — M. Le Comte de
Sanschemise — whose card Cursty had received that morning, and to
whom he had given his season ticket for the Exhibition in exchange, had
returned from the Crystal Palace. N"o tidings, however, were to be
obtained of the gentleman, further than that he had been seen to leave
the establishment shortly after themselves in the morning.

Cursty, when he and his dear Aggy had partaken of some refresh-
ment, proceeded to take up his residence in one of the rooms imnae-
diately adjoining the hall; and having provided himself with a thick
ash stick, sat himself down to await the coming of the Comte ; for the
sturdy mountaineer had made up his mind to have satisfaction for the
injuries of himself and his wife in a very different way from what the
Frenchman demanded or expected.

Aggy, too, who did-not fail to attribute her dip in the Serpentine,
and the consequent destruction of her best white chip bonnet and
Sunday front, solely to the abstraction of her husband's season ticket
by M. le Comte de Sanschemise, was only too glad to wait with Cursty,
in hopes of seeing " the wretch" severely punished for his dishonesty.

But though the determined Mr. Christopher Sandboys sat in the
waiting-room, with his thick ground-ash stick, till long past midnight,
no M. Le Comte made his appearance ; and when the want of sleep
had got the better of the Cumberland man's indignation, he began to
think that he should have many future opportunities of making the
Frenchman pay the penalty of his peccadilloes.

Accordingly, when the exhausted couple heard the hall clock strike
two, they considered it best to retire to rest, and see what luck the
morrow would bring them.

The first inquiry of the Sandboys in the morning was, as to
whether the Comte had entered the establishment in the course of the
night ? The answer, unfortunately, was iu the negative.

^V^lat could have become of the man?

On descending to the breakfast- room, however, their suspense
was si)ec<lily put an end to; for the first words uttered by Urs. Wewitz,
to whom llicy had communicated the whole of the circumstances im-
mediately on tlicir return, were concerning the fate of the missing
gentleman. She placed that morning's paper in Mr. Sandboys hand ;
and there, in the police reports, the horrified and enraged Cliristopher
beheld an account as to how a gentleman, of respectable exterior, who
gave the name of Mr. Cursty Sandboys, had entered the Exiiibition,

148 1851; OK, the adventures of

and been detected in the act of stealing a stiletto, with a silver handle,
set with jewels.

Then followed a long account as to how the gentleman, on
being committed for trial, had, on entering the prison, refused to
put on the prison dress ; and how, on being divested of his coat, he
Avas found, although externally " got" up in the most expensive and
elaborate manner, to be literally without a shirt to his back — the wrist-
bands, of which he made so ])rodigious a display, being tacked to
the cuffs of his coat, and the collar, apparently of his shirt, pinned to
his stock. On divesting him of his patent leather boots, it was stated,
moreover, that Mr. Cursty Sandboys' feet were found to be swathed,
brigand-fashion, in dirty linen rags.

The veritable Mr. Cursty Sandboys knew not how to act.

From the peculiarity of the name he was satisfied that he, and
none other, would be mistaken for the shirtless culprit. The inex-
lierienced native of Buttermere was ignorant of all the ordinary
methods by which the error might be rectified, and seeing no way
but to sit down patiently under the stigma, he very resignedly sub-
mitted to the disgrace, consoling himself with the idea that at least
the man would be severely punished for his misdemeanours.

Des2:)ite her annoyaace at the use of her husband's name, Mrs.
Cursty read the account of the lineuless state of the pretended foreign
nobleman with a kind of inward satisfaction, comjilimenting herself
continually upon the shrewdness of her suspicions as to the extent of
the Frenchman's wardrobe, and glorying over the punishment of one
to whom she attributed so many of her late misfortunes.

The imprisonment of the assumed Comte was a great consolation
to the Sandboys, and tended considerably to weaken their determina-
tion to quit London without seeing the Great Exhibition.

On reconsidering the matter, it began to appear to them that it
would be folly, and betray great want of firmness on their part, if,
after all they had gone through during their sojourn in the Great
Metropolis, they should return to Cumberland without seeing the very
thing which had brought them up to town.

All they wanted was to be able to say they had seen the Exhibi-
tion. Mrs. Cursty did not hesitate to confess, that after all she had
suffered, she did not, for her part, care whether she saw it or not. All
she desired was just to put her nose inside the door, so as not to be
obliged to go back and acknowledge that, though they had come up to
town for the express purpose of witnessing the Great Exhibition, and
paying goodness knows what for season tickets and "new things" they
had been "stupids enough" to go back without having had a glimpse
at a single article in the Crystal Palace after all.

No, that would never do.

The accounts which they read in the papers, moreover, served to
make them still more anxious to see what all appeared to consider the
great wonder of the age. Besides, Cursty himself began to perceive
that the Great Exhibition was not the mere sfew^'aw show that he had

MR. AND isms. CURSTY SAN-DBOYS.

149

anticipated, and the more he read about it, the more desirous he felt to
make himself acquainted with its various details.

Mrs. Cursty, too, after a little while, became, in her turn, eager to
see the " Mo'untain of Light'" in its gilt cage,— and the Queen of
Spain's jewels,— and the French tapestry, and the stomacher of bril-
liants that she had heard so much about— and the carpet worked by
one hundred and fifty ladies as a present to the Queen— and the beau-
tiful state-bed— and the poplin loom, which could make the poplin a
quarter of a yard wider than usual, which, in her opinion, Avas one of
the greatest improvements in the whole place; — and then there was
that love of a glass fountain which she should not rest easy in her bed,
she knew, if she went back to Cumberland without seeing,— and, better
still, that delicious fountain of "Aqua (TOro," which the ladies were at
liberty to dip their handkerchiefs in as much and as often as they
pleased.

Cursty, however, wanted to see objects of a very different character.
He had heard of the splendid specimens of black lead from the Borrow-
dale mines in his native county ; and he longed to know how it was
possible to make the refuse dust into solid cakes, equal if not better
than the pure article. He wanted to see the diff"erent specimens of
slate, for the quarries on Honister Craig were close by his home; and
he knew all about the working, and the different sizes— the "Ladies,"
the "Duchesses," the "Countesses," the " Queens," the "Imperials," and
the " Eags."' He was deeply versed in Mundic and Galena, and all the
ores of lead; and he longed to see the huge specimens of those
minerals that he had read of as being shown in the Great Exhibition.
He knew a little of coal, too, and had just managed to get a peep at the
colossal pieces of "Cannel," of "Steam," and of "Anthracite," arranged
outside the building. He also wanted to see the large lump of silver that
had been obtained from the lead ore by the crystallizing process.
More than all, he was anxious to see the machinery-room, which
everybody spoke of with such enthusiasm. There was the monster pump,
with its two mouths, pouring out its river of water, — he wanted to
see the steam printing-press, and the carding and spinning-machines,
and the power-looms, of which he had heard such marvels.

Eager to see all these, and many more things which he had heard
and read were deposited within the building of the Great Exhibition,
Cursty talked the matter calmly over with his wife, and finally agreed
that, as lie was anxious to get back to Cumberland as soon as possible,
and could not afford to wait till the prices of admission fell to a
shilling, it would be better for him to buy another season-ticket
directly, and then he and Aggy could go for an hour or ho each
day for the next fortnight, and so be able to examine every object of
interest in the collection without fatiguing themselves.

Accordingly, Mr. Christopher, the very next day, applied at the
office, and obtainetl the requisite document.

Once more, tlieii, the Sandboys set forth on their i)ilgriiiiage to the
Exhibition of the Works of Indu.stry and Art oF all Nations.

liSO 1851; OK, THE ADVENTURES OF

Mrs. Sandboys, having learnt experience from her previous disasters,
managed to make the " things," (for so the lady would persist in call-
ing her several articles of dress,) which she possessed suffice for her
without purchasing new.

On reaching the doors at which their tickets of admission were to
be presented, and where they arrived, extraordinary to say, without
any particular accident, they tendered the official cards, and were
handed the books in which to insert their signatures.

As the clerk observed the name of the gentleman on the card, and
saw Mr. Cursty Sandboys prepare to write a similar title in the Auto-
graph Book, he remembered that this was the very appellation of the
individual who had been detected, a few days back, in abstracting a
silver-handled stiletto from one of the counters in the interior.

Before the lady had time to insert her autograph in the official
register, the clerk begged to be excused, saying he was called away
upon important business; and, proceeding to some of his brother
officials, he informed them that the impudent thief Cursty Sandboys
had dared to seek admission at the Crystal Palace once more.

In an instant, the news that the expert Cursty Sandboys, the pick-
pocket, was about to enter the building, spread throughout the Crystal
Palace, literally with the I'apidity of lightning, for the electric tele-
graph was immediately set to work, telling the officials, one and
all, to —

Beware op Cursty Saj^dboys!

No sooner did the alarming intelligence become general among the
authorities, than many, anxious to obtain a peep at the singularly-
named " swell-mobsman," congregated round the entrance, where he
was still standing, and the innocent Christopher could observe them
nudging one another, and whispering, evidently concerning himself,
in a way that he did not half like, and could not possibly understand.

The clerk, on his return, proceeded to compare the signature of the
present Mr. Sandboys with that of the individual who had made his
appearance on the day of the opening.

Observing an evident discrepancy between the two, he beckoned a
brother-official to his side, and immediately they both set to work,
contrasting the one signature with the other, and looking backwards
and forwards in the most mysterious manner at the unoffending Mr.
Sandboys.

Christopher, who got more and more bewildered at the manner of
the officials, could not for the life of him comprehend what it all
meant. At length, however, he heard one of the dozen policemen,
who were now grouped close round about him, whisper to another at
his elbow that he, Mr. Sandboys, had shaved off his moustachios, while
another-officer put his lips close to the ear of a brother official, and
said, in an under tone, that he had left his beard behind him.

In an instant the telegraph was at work, communicating the fact
to the authorities at each end of the building, and informing them

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. l.')l

that Cursty Sandboys tad come close shaved on the present occasion,
and instructing them one and all to keep a sharp eye upon his move-
ments.

Mr. Sandboys, to his horror, at last began to perceive that he was
mistaken for no less illustrious a character than M. le Comte de Sans-
chemise, who had gained admission to the building on the first day by
means of Cursty 's season-ticket ; and that the many policemen who
were gathered round him had come with the confident expectation that
he had repeated his visit to the establishment in the hopes of abstract-
ing some more valuable prize than on the previous occasion.

The clerk, who had been examining the books, at last ventured to
hint to the real Christopher, that there was a marked difference between
the signature of Mr. Cursty Sandboys of the first day and the gentle-
man who now sought to gain admission ; and, having pre\-iou3ly
arranged with the Detective at his elbow, that the safest plan to be
pursued would be to make sure of the party then and there, while
he was in their power, he proceeded to inform the ^\Tetched ^^Ir.
Sandboys that it Avas his duty to give hira into custody on a charge of
forgery. The Detective had not been able to understand how it was
possible for the Cursty Sandboys, who had been committed for trial
for stealing the stiletto a few days previously, could make his appear-
ance there, unless he had escaped from prison that morning. This
he strongly suspected must have been the case ; for he felt satisfied
that no one would ever dream of assuming so singular a name, and
one, moreover, which at that moment was not in the best public
odour. Under all the circumstances, therefore, it was better to secure
the party now he was there.

Poor Aggy, when she heard the awful character of the charge that
-was now made against her darling and innocent Cursty, and saw the
policeman proceed to lay hands upon him, swooned right off into the
arms of the nearest inspector. The official, however, looking upon
the lady as the brazen-faced partner of one of the light-fingered
gentry, was in no humour to resort to any gentle restoratives as a
means of bringing the lady back to her senses; so, shaking Mrs.
Sandboys violently, he, in the most unceremonious manner, said that
they were up to all them fainting dodges, and it was no use trying
'em on with them.

It was in vain for Cursty either to expostulate or to explain, for being
looked upon as a thief, of course he was treated as one ; so that when
he endeavoured to make known the real facts of the case, the officers
winked their eyes and grinned at one another at what they considered
the extreme lameness of the excuse. After he had wasted some
ten minutes in attempting to assert and prove his innocence, he was
dragged off by two policemen, and being placed in a cab, was con-
veyed, without loss of time, before the sitting magistrate at the nearest
police office.

There the charge was immediately entered upon, when, the ma-
gistrate observing that further proof was rc(j[uired, the Detective

132 1851; OR, the adventures of

prayed for a remand of the prisoner, stating he felt convinced that
in a few days he should be able to bring a large body of evidence to
bear against the individual, for he was perfectly satisfied that if the
party was not the notorious Cursty Sandboys himself, he was at least
one of his gang, and had made use of that person's ticket whilst he
was in prison.

Aggy, who, on recovering her senses, had ascertained where her
lord and master had been carried, entered the police-court at this
precise juncture, and no sooner heard the oflBcer pronounce her hus-
band to belong to a well-known gang of pickpockets, than she insisted
upon being heard, and was about to enter into a long family history of
her husband and herself, when the magistrate informed her, that un-
less she would keep silence he should be compelled to have her put out
of the court.

Cursty, finding himself likely to be committed to prison, sought to
explain to the magistrate how he was a plain country gentleman, come
up from Cumberland to enjoy himself and see the Great Exhibition;
but his statement was received with no more belief than the excuses
of individuals when similarly circumstanced, for the felon's dock is
not exactly the place where a gentleman is likely to obtain much credit
for his assertions.

The magistrate, looking sternly at the melancholy Christopher,
shook his head, as much as to say that, after what the Detective
had stated, the case appeared rather black against him.

Cursty, however, finding himself standing, as it were, on the
threshold of a prison, protested his innocence so loudly, and per-
sisted with such pertinacity in his statements, that the magistrate was
induced to inquire of the turnkey in attendance whether he knew
anything of the prisoner, whereupon the ofiicial replied that he re-
membered the name perfectly well, and having retired to refresh his
memory on the subject, returned shortly and stated, that he found
Cursty Sandboys had been charged only a short time back with being
drunk and disorderly, and incapable of taking care of himself; Avhile
the wife of the same " party" had been given into custody about the
same time for assaulting the police.

This was moi'e than the blood of Aggy could bear; and imme-
diately she rushed forward and began to enter into an explanation
as to how the hussey who had been taken up had used her name at
the police-office, after stealing her marriage certificate; but the manner
of Mrs. Sandboys was so excited, while her whole story sounded so im-
probable, that she appeared to the magistrate to be just the kind of
woman to commit such an act under the influence of tempei'.

Accordingly, all things considered, the magistrate decided upon
remanding the ill-fated Cursty Sandboys till a future day, and, amid
the shrieks of his distracted wife, he was dragged off by the turnkey
to be locked up in his cell.

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ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 153

CHAPTEK XYI.

" I yeiice followM Marget, tlie toast ainniig aw niaks —
An Peg lied a red clieek aud bonuy dark e'e —
But su'in as she fan I depended on lahviir,
She snurl'd up her neb and nae mair lid/c^d at me.

" This meks my words gad ; uobbet brag o' your uncle,
Aud get a peer Lawf-wit to trumpet yer praise,
You may catch wbee you will, they'll caress ye and bless ye,
It's money, )tit merit, they seek noiv-adays."

The Lasses of Card.

Let us now sliift tlie scene for awhile, and turn our attention once
more to the Crystal Palace.

At last, the long looked-for shilling day had arrived. Barriers
had been placed up outside the building, so as to stem the expected
crush, and a double force of police had been " laid on" from Scotland-
yard, and the whole of the officials had been ordered to be at their
posts an hour or two earlier than usual, so that by opening the
door before the appointed time, the " rush" might be pre-
vented. Even George Cruikshank himself, confident that a moiety
of the metropolis, at least, would be congregated outside the building,
had prepared a most vivid delineation of the probable consequences of
the rush and crush — the cram and the jam — that every one expected
to take ])lace on the eventful occasion. If twenty thousand people
attend at five shillings, surely, according to Cocker, said the Execu-
tive Committee, five times as many more will come when the charge
of admission is five times less.

But alas for the vain hopes of this vain world ! as all the
speakers at all the " May meetings' invariably exclaim ; for, on the
eventful day, the hundred thousand visitors "■ in 2)osse" dwindled
down to twenty thousand " in, esse.'' The two policemen who had
been placed outside the gilt cage of the Mountain of Light, the extra
" force" that Avas stationed beside the Queen of Spain's jewels, the
additional " Peelites" who had been quartered at every point and
turn of the interior to direct the crowd which way to move, stared
and grinned at one another as they saw the people saunter, one by
one, into the building, instead of pouring in by tens of thousands, as
had been anticipated. The Executive Connnittee knit their brows,
and bit their thumb.s, and then suddenly discovered the cause of the
absence of the people. The masses are busy working for their l)read,
aud are waiting for their holiday-time, when they always spend a large
amount of their earnings in recreation and enjoyment ; and if they
come even by twenty thousands now, surely they will come by hundreds
of thousands then.

Accordingly, the same farce, of barriers and police, is enacted again,
with the same disappointment; for, to the inscrutable wonder of the

154 1851 ; OE, the adventures or

Executive Committee, the nmiiber of visitors during the Whitsun
holidays is even less than the week before, and then ensue various
speculations as to the cause, and the following reason is, after much
cogitation, gravely propounded in explanation of the anomaly : — " The
seff-denying patience of the people, their habitual tendency to post-
pone pleasure to business, and their little inclination to rush madly
forward in quest of Avhat can be seen as well, or better, a week or a
month hence — these seem to be the natural and truest solutions of
the result."

Now, unfortunately for this pretty compliment, a trip to Greenwich
Fair or Hampton Court, on this same Whit-Monday, would soon
have convinced the Executive Committee that "the shilling folk"
were neither remarkable for self-denial nor extreme patience in their
enjoyments; while the general observance of " Saint Monday" by the
operatives might have assured any one, in the least acquainted with
their characters, that, far from being distinguished by any habitual
tendency to postpone pleasure to business, they are peculiarly prone
to make business give way to pleasure.

But it was necessary, in order to account for the disappointment, to
put some sentimental gloss on the occvirrence; and, therefore, men
whose lives were passedin toil, and to whom pleasure is therefore the
highest possible luxury — merely as rest to the body and recreation to
the faculties — were made to prefer work to enjoyment; while patience,
self-denial, and every virtue under heaven, were ascribed to people,
who, as contra-distinguished from the moneyed classes, are ignorant of
the advantages of saving, and Avho, getting their money hardly, are
ever ready to taste the delight of spending it. This disposition to
cant, and varnish matters over with a sickly sentimentality, angelizing
or canonizing the whole body of operatives of this country, instead of
speaking of them as possessing the ordinary vices and virtues of
human nature, — as being the same patchwork of black and white, —
the same chequered chessboard, fitted for the game and moves of
life,— this tendency to put high and heroic motives on everyday
conduct is the besetting sin of the age.

None admire the simple sturdy honesty of the working men of
England more than ourselves ; but to say that they like work better
than pleasure, would be to chime in with the rhodomontade of the
time, and make out that there is an especial delight in industry, — that
is to say, in continuous labour; whereas this is precisely what is
repulsive to human nature, and what all men are striving, and, indeed,
paying large sums of money to avoid. If industry be such a supreme
enjoyment, as the idle rich ever rejoice in declaring, then where is the
virtue of it ] where the merit of doing that which we have a natural
bias to dol Let those who think work a pleasure try a week's
mental or manual labour, and then, feeling what a negative bliss there
is in mere rest, get to know what it is to yearn, like a schoolboy, for
a day's leisure, ease, and amusement. It is well for fat and phlegma-
tic citizens to call people "lazy scoundrels," and bid them "go and

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 155

work;" but let these gentlemen themselves try their soft hands at
labour, even for a day, and then they will feel how much easier, and,
as the world goes, how much more profitable, it is to trade on others'
labour than to labour for oneself. No man, says the adage, makes a
fortune by the work of his own hands. " Oh, sir !" replied the
*•' valiant" Spanish beggar, when asked by the rich merchant why he
did not go and work, " You don't know how lazy I am." The rich
merchant was, of course, disgusted with the reply, but then he was not
aware how lazy he himself naturally was. He was one of those who
felt satisfied that industry is a special delight (though but rarely
known to be industrious themselves), and Avho, consequently, believed
that the honest poor always prefer labour to enjoyment, having, iu
the words of the Executive Committee, an habitual tendency to post-
pone pleasure for business.

But the reason why the shilling folk absented themselves from the
Great Exhibition at first was, because none of their own class had
seen it, and they had not yet heard of its wonders, one from the other.
But once seen, and once talked about in their workshops, their facto-
ries, and — it must be said — their tap-rooms, each gradually became
curious to see what had astonished and delighted his fellows.

They soon began to see that the Great Exhibition, rightly consi-
dered, is a huge academy for teaching the nobility of labour, and
demonstrating the various triumphs of the useful arts over extci'ual
nature.

It may to the unreflecting appear to require but a small exercise
of skill to grow their food, weave their garments, or construct their
houses ; but set your " indepe7ident" gentleman to do either one or
the other, and what a poor useless wretch he immediately becomes.
We have, indeed, too long been taught to think, that an independent
man, like an honest man, is " the noblest work of God;" as if it were
not the noblest thing a man could do to labour for the food he eats,
and as if what we arc led to call an independent gentleman were not
the most dependent of all animals iu creation. Put such an one on
an uninhabited island, and would he not be as helpless as an infant ?
What could he — this independent man — do, when he had really to
depend on none others but himself for his living ?

Far be it from us to assert that manual dexterity or musciilar labour
is the sumiman honum of human existence; but what we wish to say
is, that, owing so much of our comfort and happiness to both, we
should honour them more than we do; and that, above all, if society
would really have the world progress, it should do away with the
clicat, which makes those men the most " respectable' who do the least
for the bread they cat. If we wish to make gentlemen of our working
men (we use the word " gentleman" in its highest Dekkcriau sense, and
certainly not in its mere conventional signification), our first step
must be to assert the natural dignity of labour. So long as we look
upon work or to it as a meanness, so long will our workers and
toilers remain mean. Let industry be with us " respectable" — as it is

M 2

156 1851; OR, the adventures of

really in tlie natural arrangement of things — and the industrious poor
instead of the idle rich \vill then l^e the really respectable men of this
country.

Let those who doubt the respectability of labour, consider for one
moment what years of thought, and study, and patience, are involved
in even the commonest industrial process. " A man would be
laughed at," says Mandeville, in his " Fable of the Bees," " that should
discover luxury in the plain dress of the pauper, in the thick parish
coat, and coarse workhouse shirt beneath it. And yet what a number
of people, how many different trades, and what a variety of skill and
tools must be employed to liave the most ordinary Yorkshire cloth !
What depth of thought and ingenuity, and what length of time must
it have cost, before man could have learned from a seed to raise and
prepare so useful a product as linen ! Must not that society be vainly
curious among whom this admirable commodity, after it is made, shall
not be thought fit to be used even hy the lioorest of all, before it is
brought to a perfect whiteness, which is not to be done but with the
assistance of great chemical knowledge, joined to a world of industry
and patience ? Can we reflect," he continues, " not only on the
cost laid out in this luxurious invention, but likewise on the little time
the whiteness of it endures (in which great part of its beauty consists),
•so that at every six or seven days, at farthest, it wants cleaning, and
is, consequently, while it lasts, a continual charge to the wearer — can
we, I say, reflect on all this, and not think it an extravagant piece of
nicety, that those wdio receive alms of the parish should not only have
•whole garments made of this operose manufacture, but likewise, that
as soon as they are soiled, we should make use of, in order to restore
them to their original purity, one of the most judicious, as well as
difficult compositions that chemistry can boast — a composition with
which, when dissolved in water, by the help of fire, the most detersive
and yet innocent lixivium is prepared, that human industry or
ingenuity lias been able to invent f

But if these ai'ts are sufficient to excite our wonder, especially when
made to contribute to the happiness of the most destitute of our race,
and to confer on our i:)aupers comforts and luxuries, formerly
unknown to our princes, surely the art of working in metal — the
manufacture of the buttons on the workhouse coat, the making of the
nails on the bottom of the workhouse floor, is a thousand times more
wonderful. Who can look at the commonest pocket-knife or pad-
lock, and not feel an intense reverence for the art and artists that
could fashion those most useful instruments out of a lump of stone %
To become conscious of the skill displayed in the various processes,
we should have a knowledge of the difficulties to be overcome ; and
nothing will give us so profound a sense of these as to endeavour to
make one or other similar instruments for ourselves. Or if we wish
to have a just appreciation of the intellect required for the discovery
and perfection of the metallurgic arts, let us imagine ourselves jjlaced
on an uninhabited island — another Juan Fernandez — and then fancy

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 157

how we, even thougli we have lived among the very arts all our days,
should set to work. Let us think whether we could make a pin or a
needle out of a piece of rock to save our lives.

Is there any more skill to put words together than to manufacture
a razor out of a lump of iron-stone? We know which seems to us by
far the easier occupation of the two. Nevertheless, without any wish
to indulge in that mock humility which seeks to disparage our own
productions, when, if there be an innate propensity, it is to value our
own work immeasurably beyond its true worth, we must confess
that the one craft appears no more worthy of respect than the other ;
so, we say again, the Great Exhibition, where all these matters are
forced upon the mind, rightly considered, is a huge academy for
teaching men the true dignity of even what are thought the inferior
grades of labour.

The great fallacy — the most pernicious error of the present day —
is the l)elief that a knowledge of reading and writing constitutes
education. " Reading and writing," it has been Avell said, " is no
more education than a knife and fork is a good dinner." To teach a
man how to read and write is, as it were, to confer upon him a new
sense. All our senses differ one from another in having various
telescopic powers — that is to say, of perceiving external objects at
greater or less distances. For touching and tasting, it is necessary
that the object should be in immediate contact A^ath the body ; for
smelling, the object may be slightly removed from ua ; for hearing, it
may be still more remote ; and for seeing, it may be the most dis-
tant of all. Nevertheless, it is necessary in all these cases that the
object of perception should be present with us : with reading and
•writing, however, the telescopic power is immeasurably extended,
and we are made cognizant of phenomena occurring hundreds of
miles distant, and hundreds of years ago. As our senses, therefore,
are merely ducts of knowledge, so are reading and writing merely the
means of acquiring information. We might as well believe that the
addition of a nose, or a pair of eyes or ears — that the faculty of seeing,
hearing, or smelling, in short, should make creatures wise or good, as
that the arts of orthoepy and orthography were the great panacea for
all social and moral evil.

No ! if wc would really make people wiser and better, we must
make them acquainted with the laws of the material, mental, and
moral universe in which they arc placed, and upon which their hap-
piness is made to depend. A knowledge of the laws of matter
enables a man to promote the physical good — of the laws of mind,
the intellectual good — of the laws of the heart, the moral good, both
of himself and his fellow-creatures. According as we become ac-
quainted with the various substances and circumstances existing and
occurring in the material world, and thereby come to understand
their relation to each other as well as to ourselves, so are we enabled
to give a ])articular direction to the succession of events without, and
BO to alleviate the wants and increase the pleasures of ourselves aad

J 68 1851; OR, the adventures of

others. According, too, as we get to know the links which bind
thought to thought, as well as the ties which connect our perceptions
with certain classes of relations — with our feelings of beauty, sublimity,
or ludicrousness — so arc we enabled to induce pleasant trains of ideas,
and to promote the delight of those around us. And thus it is in
the moral universe. According as we study the connexions between
our acts and emotions, and become canviinced of the felicity which
attends the contemplation of any benefit disinterestedly conferred,
and the uneasiness which accompanies the remembrance of any
wanton injury, so are wc the more anxious to encourage the good and
restrain the evil impulses of our nature.

Now, the Great Exhibition, looked at in its true light, is, we say
once more, a huge academy for teaching men the laws of the material
universe, by demonstrating the various triumphs of the usefvd arts
over external nature.

One great good the Exhibition assuredly must do, and that is to
decrease the large amount of slop or inferior productions that are
flooding the country, and which, in the rage for cheapness, are palmed
off as equal to the handiwork of the most dexterous operatives.
Were the public judges of workmanship — had they been made
acquainted with the best work of the best workmen, and so possessed
some standard of excellence by which to test the various kinds of
labour, it would be impossible for the productions of the unskilful
artisan to be brought into competition with those of the most skilful.
Owing to the utter ignorance of the public, however, upon all such
matters, the tricky employer is now enabled to undersell the honour-
able master by engaging inferior workmen, while the honourable
master, in order to keep pace with the tricky employer, is obliged to
reduce the wages of the more dexterous " hands." Hence, we see the
tendency of affairs at present is, for the worse to drag the better
handicraftsmen down to their degradation, instead of the better
raising the worse up to their pre-eminence.

The sole remedy for this state of things is greater knowledge on
the part of the public. Accustom the people continually to the sight
of the best works, and they will no longer submit to have bad work-
manship foisted upon them as equal to good.

To those unversed in the " labour question," this may appear but
a small benefit, but to those who know what it is to inculcate a pride
of art — to make the labourer find delight in his labour — to change
him from a muscular machine into an intellectual artist, it will seem
perhaps as great a boon as can be offered to working men. At pre-
sent, workmen are beginning to feel that skill — the " art of industrial
occupations" — is useless, seeing that Avant of skill is now beating
them out of the market. One of the most eminent of the master
shoemakers in London assured us that the skilled workmen in his
business were fast disappearing before the children-workers in North-
ampton ; and, indeed, we heard the same story from almost every
trade in the metropolis. The bad are destroying the good, instead of
the good improving the bad.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 159

The antidote for tliis special evil is a periodical exliibition of the
•works of industry and art. Make the public critics of industrial art,
and they will be sure to call into existence a new race of industrial
artists — but as it is, both the public and the workmen are the prey of
greedy, tricky tradesman.

It was some time before " the shilling folk" could be got to sec
these things, and therefore they did not go down in a body, and be-
siege the doors of the Crystal Palace, clamouring for admission all of
them together, immediately the price was brought within their means.
Gradually, however, they have come to see the true uses of the Great
Show, and they now attend in almost the same vast concourses as the
sanguine Executive Committee were led to believe they would on the
first day.

The consequence is, that the groups within the building have
already assumed a very picturesque appearance. To those who have
watched the character of the visitors since the opening — the change in
the dresses, manners, and objects of the sight-seers has been most
marked and peculiar.

The alteration, too, has been almost as striking outside the building
as it has in the interior. For the first week or two, the road -^vithin a
mile of the '•' Glass Hive" was blocked with carriages. From the
Prince of Wales' Gate to Apsley House there stretched one long line
of cabs, omnibusses, carriages, "broughams," "flies," now moving for
a few minutes, and now stopping for double the time, Avhile the im-
patient visitors within let down the blinds and thrust their heads out
to see how far the line extended.

At every intersecting thoroughfare stood clusters of busy police-
men, seizing horses by the reins, and detaining the vehicles till the
cross current had in a measure ceased. And here might be seen per-
sons threading between the blocked carriages, and bobbing beneath
the horses' heads, in order to pass from one side of the road to the
other. To seek to pass through the Park gates was about as danger-
ous an experiment as " shooting" the centre arch of " Old London
Bridge."

Tlieii the journey to and from the Great Exhibition consumed some
hours of the day, but now there is scarcely a carriage or a Hansom
cab to be seen. The great stream of carriage visitors has ceased
(except on the more expensive days), and the ebb and flood of pedes-
trians set. The " southern entrance " is no longer beset with
broughams, but gathered round it are groups of gazers, too poor or too
" prudent" to pay for admission Avithin. The public-houses along the
road arc now filled to overflowing, for outside them arc ranged long
benches, on which sit visitors in their holiday attire, resting on their
way. Almost all the pedestrians, too, have baskets on tlieir arms,
evidently filled with the day's store of provisions. The ladies arc all
" got up" in their brightest-coloured bonnets and polkas, and as they
haste along, they " step out" till their faces are seen to glow again
with tlieir eagerness to get to the Grand Show ; while the gentlemen
in green or brown felt '• wide-awakes," or ilully beaver liats, and with

160 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

tlic cuffs of their best coats, and the bottoms of their best trowsers
turned up, are marching heavily on — some with babies in their
arms, others with baskets, and others carrying corpulent cotton

■ umbrellas.

And inside the Great Exhibition tlie scene is equally different from,
that of the first week or two. The nave is no longer filled with ele-
gant and inert loungers — lolling on seats, and evidently come there
to be seen rather than to see. Those wlio are now to be found there,
however, liave come to look at the Exhibition, and not to make an
exhibition of themselves. There is no air of display about them — no
social falsity — all is the plain unvarnished truth. The jewels and the
tapestry, and the Lyons silks, are not now the sole objects of attrac-
tion. The shilling folk may be an " inferior" class of visitors, but
at least they Icnow something about the Avorks of industr}', and what
they do not know, they have come to learn.

Here you see a railway guard, with the silver letters on his collar,
and his japan pouch by his side, hurrying, with his family, towards
the locomotive dei^artment. Nexi, you come to a carpenter, in his
yellow fluffy flannel jacket, descanting on the beauties of a huge top,
formed of one section of a mahogany tree. Then may be seen a hat-
less and yellows-legged Blue-coat boy mounting the steps of one of
the huge prismatic lighthouses, to have a glance at the arrangement^
of the interior. Peeping into the model of the Italian Opera are

.several short-red-bodied and long-black -legged Life-Guardsmen;
while, among the agricultural implements, saunter clusters of country-
men in smockfrocks. On the steps of the crimson-covered pedestals
are seated small groups of tired women and children, some munching
thick slices of bread and meat, the edges of which are yellow with the
oozing mustard. Around the fountains are gathered other families,
drinking out of small mugs, inscribed as " presents for Charles or
ISIary ;" while all over the floor — walk where you Avill — are strewn
the greasy papers of devoured sandwiches. The minute and extensive
model of Liverpool, with its long strip of looking-glass sea and thou-
sands of cardboard vessels, is blocked round with wondering artisans^
some, more familiar with the place, pointing Out particular sti'cets and
houses. And as you pass by the elaborate rei:)resentation, in plaster,
of Underdown Cliffy, you may hear a young sailor — the gloss upon
Avhose jacket indicates that he has but recently returned from sea —
tell how he went round the Needles last voyage in a gale of wind.
Islost of the young men have catalogues or small guide-books in their
hands, and have evidently, from the earnest manner in which they
now gaze at the object, and now refer to the book, come there to
study the details of the whole building.

But if the other parts of the Great Exhibition are curious and
instructive, the machinery, which has been from the first the grand
focus of attraction, is, on the " shilling diiys," the most peculiar sight
of the whole. Here every other man you rub against is habited in a
corduroy jacket, or a blouse, or leathern gaiters ; and round every

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S«e*<i(».fiW«* 4v p^fmtlAw/c.

jom^of HuL Dro/Ur/€^ <>/• Jiff, ^.,-e^r 'Br!<>^»t:iey-\_^ ^ i 2 S- ^

MR. AND MRS. CL'RSTV SANDBOYS. 16L

object more wonderful tliau the rest, the people press, two and three
deep, with their heads stretched out, watcliiug intently the operations
of the mo^'ing mechanism. You see the farmers, their dusty hats
telling of the distance they have come, with their mouths wide agape,
leaning over the bars to see the self-acting mills at work, and smiling
as they behold the frame spontaneously draw itself out, and then
spontaneously nm back again. Some, with great smockfrocks, were
gazing at the girls in their long pinafores engaged at the doubling-
machines.

But the chief centres of curiosity are the power-looms, and in front
of these are gathered small groups of artisans, and labourers, and
young men whose red coarse hands tell you they do something for
their living, all eagerly listening to the attendant, as he explains the
operations, after stopping the loom. Here, too, as you pass along,
you meet, now a member of the National Guard, in his peculiar coni-
cal hat, with its little ball on top, and horizontal peak, and his red
worsted epaulettes and full-plaited troAvsers ; then you come to a
long, thin, and bilious-looking Quaker, -vA-ith his tidy aud clean-looking
Quakeress by his side ; and the next minute, may be, you encounter a
school of charity-girls, in their large white collars and straw bonnets,
with the mistress at their head, instructing the children as she goes.
Eound the electro-plating and the model diving-bell are crowds
jostling one another for a foremost place. At the steam brewery,
crowds of men and women are continually ascending and descending
the stairs j youths are watching the model carriages moving along the
new pneumatic railway ; young girls are waiting to see the hemi-
spherical lamp-shades made out of a Hat sheet of paper; indeed, Avhether
it be the noisy flax-crushing machine, or the splashing centrifugal
pump, or the clatter of the Jacquard lace machine, or the bewildering
whirling of the cylindrical steam-press, — round each and all these arc
anxious, intelligent, and simple-minded artisans, and farmers, and
servants, and youths, and children clustered, endeavouring to solve
the mystery of its complex operations.

For many days before the '•' shilling people" were admitted to the
building, the great topic of conversation was the probable behaviour of
the people. Would they come sober 1 will they desti-oy the things ?
will they want to cut their initials, or scratch their names on the
panes of the glass lighthouses ? But they have surpassed in decorum
the hopes of their well-wishers. The fact is, the Great Exhibition is
to them more of a school than a show. The working-man has often
little book-learning, but of such knowledge as constitutes the educa-
tion of life — viz., the understanding of human motives, and the ac-
quisition of power over natural forces, so as to render them suIj-
servient to human liaj)piucss — of such knowledge as this, we repeat,
the Avorkiug-man has generally a greater share than those who arc
said to belong to the " superior classes." Hence it is, tliut Avhat was a
matter of tedium, aud became ultimately a mere lounge, for gentle-
folks, is used as a place of instruction by the people.

163 1851; OR, the adventures of

We have been tlius prolix on the classes attending the Great Exhi-
bition, because it is the influence that this institution is likely to
exercise upon labour which constitutes its most interesting and valu-
able feature. If we really desire the improvement of our social
state, (and surely we are far from perfection yet,) we must address
ourselves to the elevation of the people ; and it is because the Great
Exhibition is fitted to become a special instrument towards this end,
that it forms one of the most remarkable and hopeful characteristics
of our time.

(osi Jvis pari/

A^ Sxti-d - OxcUrum/ jnat Vaitory- h tic- A Px-yty tvJio ka-vt. u.r\.^irrU/,n(tt<L lost iktirf-riuvL,

Odd^kEnds, in.oui,kcd)oid, ^h. great ^xkLbUloTl^ of- iaS'f,[lfiCt°dX'^

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 163

CHAPTER XVII.

" But if Misfortune's liau'
We plunge an' feel her smartin' tran*,
Let us wi' fortitude witbstan',

The lash extended.
As a' things come by Heaven's commau',
Au' whea can mend it."

A New Year's Epistle, by John Stagg,

Already had the customary advertisement in the daily papers
announced to the world that —

THE YOUNG Lx^DIES OF PARTHENON
HOUSE, WIMBLEDON COMMON, will resume
their studies on the 1st of August, I80I, —

and still, to !Mrs. Wewitz's groat horror, those " filthy, hairy monsters
of Frenchmen" remained located in the best bed-room. She had tried
entreaties, threats, compliments, and abuse — everything by turns,
and nothing long — but still all her efforts had been in vain. Unfortu-
nately, she had, in an unguarded moment, revealed to the Count de
Sanscheraise (who had returned to Parthenon House after a short
mysterious absence), that she required the room which he and his
friends occupied, as the young ladies of the school would arrive in the
course of a few days ; but the Count no sooner heard the news than
he declared, in as good English as he was master of, that he always
understood the apartment had been let to him and his friends for a
twelvemonth, and that he could not think of leaving under a quarter's
notice.

This so terrified the poor old lady, that knowing the partiality of
the younger members of her own sex for those " impudent wretches
of Frenchmen," and having had proof jiositive, in the case of Ann
Lightfoot and her mistress, "poor dear Mrs. Sandboys," that the
Frenchmen were similarly inclined towards the ladies, she thought it
would be better, under all the circumstances, to acquaint her daughter
wth the worst.

Now, it so happened that Miss Wewitz was at this period on a
visit with Miss Chutney (an East Indian pupil, Avho had been sent
over from Quilou by her parents to be educated in England) to one
of her dear, good girls, a jiarlour boarder, who loved Miss Chutney
with " something more than a sister's love." Miss Wewitz was par-
taking of a dish of macaroni boiled in milk, by way of a slight lunch,
when the letter from her respected parent arrived, infonniiig her of
what had hai>i>cned. The lady, so that her macaroni might not grow
cold while she read the epistle, placed it by her side on the table, and
swallowed a spoonful and a sentence at one and the same time. She
was in the act of swallowing one of the long, limp, white tubes that

1G4 1851; OR, the adventures of.

she liad fished out of the basin with her spoou, -when her eye fell upon
the passage which informed her that the bed-room of her first class
was occupied by a colony of Frenchmen, and that they had resolutely
refused to quit the premises. In the horror of the moment, she gave
a gasp, and instantly the long slippery tube was hurried down her
throat so rapidly and unexpectedly, that what with her anguish and
the macaroni, she was nearly choked on the spot. Her two " dear girls,"
seeing ]\Iiss Wewitz turn a light plum colour in the face, immediately
flew to her aid, and by dint of several severe thumps on the back,
ultimately succeeded in shaking the macaroni down the lady's throat.

It was in vain that the young ladies requested to be apprised of the
cause of her sudden alarm, for Miss ^Yewitz knew well enough that it
w^ould not be safe to make them acquainted with the real state of the
case ; accordingly, she excused herself by saying that she was called
home suddenly, and begged that Miss Chutney would prepare to return
to Parthenon House as soon as possible.

During the whole of the journey home. Miss Wewitz was arranging
in her own mind what course of action she should adopt — that her
mother had been imprudent enough to act as she had, hardly surprised
her, for she was continually doing the most peculiar things " for the
best," as she called it, which invariably turned out for the worst. A few
months back, she had consented to receive the daughter of a neigh-
bouring milkman, as a pupil on the " reciprocal system f and no
sooner was it discovered by the attorney's daughter that there was
what they were pleased to call a milkmaid in the establishment, than
she lost no less than six of her pupils, and " all carriage people," the
very next vacation ; and now Mrs. Wewitz had let off " one of her
wings" to a swarm of dirty Frenchmen, in the hopes, as she said, of
getting the taxes out of them.

What was to be done with Chutney, thought Miss Wewitz to her-
self, under the distressing circumstances, was more than she could
tell; she only knew that girl's morals had cost her more trouble than
all her other pupils put together. To trust her out of her sight was
more than she dare do, or else she certainly would have left her at
her schoolfellow's until the Frenchman had been got out of the house.
But Avhile the girl was under her own eye no harm could possibly
come to her, though, with a swarm of horrid Frenchmen on the pre-
mises, it would be as much as she could do to look after her, she was
such a giddy, weak thing, ready to fall in love with the first man who
looked at her. However, Miss Wewitz had made up her mind to one
thing — and that was, to keep her in the music-room so long as these
men Avere in the house.

Thus ruminating. Miss Wewitz passed the journey. On reaching
Wimbledon Common, she Avas horrified to find that, in front of her
best bed-room Avindows, immediately above the long board Avhich
stretched across the entire length of the house, and on AA'hich was
inscribed, in large gilt letters,

"ESTABLISHMENT FOR YOUNG LADIES,"

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 1G5

there dangled some dozen of newly-washed shirt- collars, and ahout
half the number of dickeys, Avhile, lolling out of the windows, ap-
peared two or three long-bearded Frenchmen, puffing away huge
meerschaum pipes, and enveloped in clouds of smoke, as they amused
themselves by spitting at the sun-dial.

No sooner did the gate-bell announce the arrival of !Miss Wewitz
and her pupil, than the Frenchmen, who could just distinguish the
bonnets of the ladies above the top of the boards before the railings,
began whistling, and making that peculiar noise with the lips which
is supposed to be especially agreeable to birds and babies.

This Avas more than the discreet schoolmistress could tolerate; she
thought all the eyes of all the mothers of Europe were directed
towards Parthenon House at that moment; so, before the gate cuuld
be opened, she commenced shaking the end of her parasol between
the railings with considerable violence at the Frenchmen, who ap-
peared to be mightily taken with the mysterious lady's menaces, for
no sooner did they perceive the mystic parasol waggling about, appa-
rently by itself, between the railings, than they — one and all — set up
a loud roar of laughter, while the more they laughed, the more the
parasol shook with rage — the one merely serving to increase the
excitement of the other.

Now, Miss Wewitz was a lady of almost Roman virtue. She was,
or rather she had been, in the heyday of her youth, what little men
delight to term a remarkably fine woman ; that is to say, she stood
so near the " regulation height," and her upper lip was shaded with
so delicate a moustache, that, in male attire, she would have found
little difficulty in 'listing in the Life-Guards, had she felt so inclined.
She Avas, however, one of those ladies upon whom food is said to be
thrown away ; for, though she made a special point of taking the most
nourishing things — little and good, and often, was her dietetic rule of
life — still, eat as she would, her figure remained as long, as thin, and
as angular at all the joints, as a Dutch doll. At an early age — as
the lady herself delighted to tell her pupils — she had made a resolu-
tion never to marry, but to dedicate her life to study and her dear
mother; for, soon after she had turned up her back hair, she formed
so bad an opinion of the male sex, that not if Plutus himself, witli
all the gold that Lenipriere tells he was possessed of, had come an<l
thrown himself at her feet, would she have condescended to have
become the partner of his handsome fortune. But, if Miss Wewitz
was not exactly a Venus in her " outward woman," (as she termed it,)
at least she was very nearly a Minerva within; and, as if to label
herself '•' a woman of mind," she dressed in the approved costume of
feminine genius. Her hair was turned back d la Chi noise, as if to
stretch her forelicad up as high as possible, and jjcbind each ear there
dangled a solitary ringlet, that a discarded cook hud been heard to
declare was " never lier own." And, to be candid, there certainly
was an intensity in the blackness of Miss Wewit/.' raven tresses,
coupled with a ruddy rustiness at the roots, tliat raised up l)cfore you
a vivid picture of the lady's head done up in cabbage-leaves once a

166 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

month ; wlille, as slie smiled, and showed her front teeth, which she
was a little proud of, there might occasionally be seen a small prong
of "-old twinkling at the corner of her mouth ; but this was only when
the" lady forgot herself, and was foolish enough to smile with unfeigned
pleasure. Her invariable dress was black satin, and this of the
glossiest description, so that she shone as if done up in court-plaster.
But thouo-h the lady looked as dry and stiff as schoolmistresses usually
are, she was not without her genial qualities ; and many a tale was
told of girls educated and put out in the world by her, whose parents
had placed them under her charge, and disappeared shortly afterwards.
Moreover, it was whispered that her father, having squandered a large
property, had died suddenly in his chair after dinner, leaving her
mother and herself to fight their way through life, without resources
and without friends. The young girl, so the story ran, had first gone
as teacher, and afterwards become partner, in the school, of which, by
the death of the late mistress, she was now sole proprietress.

Immediately the gate was opened. Miss We'oatz took Miss Chutney
by the arm and hurried into the house, where the smell of stale
tobacco nearly overpowered her, while the thought of her hard-earned
reputation being sacrificed in so cruel a manner made the tears rush in
a flood to her eyes. The house never could be got sweet again — that was
certain ; and what would the mothers think on bringing their daughters
back to an establishment, reeking of tobacco smoke worse than a
common taprooom ! and, in the excitement of her feelings, she up-
braided her mother bitterly for her indiscretion, telling her that she
had brought ruin upon their heads.

Then suddenly recollecting that she was giving way to her feelings
before Miss Chutney, she retired with that young lady to the music-
room, and gave her strict injunctions on no account whatever to stir
from the spot.

After this, she begged her mother to make her acquainted with the
entire transaction, from beginning to end ; and when that lady had
confided to her the whole of the circumstances. Miss Wewitz, who had
by that time resumed the natural calmness of her temper, observed,
that it was no time for bickering, and that before taking off her
bonnet, she would just step on to that remarkably civil young man,
the inspector at the police station, and ascertain from him what she
had better do, situated as she was.

Miss Wewitz had no sooner closed the outer gate, than the Count
de Sanschemise, who had all the time been leaning over the banisters,
and watching every movement of the ladies below, crept softly down
the stairs, and moved on tiptoe towards the room in which he had
seen Miss Chutney placed.

Opening the door, he entered the music- room, as though he was
unaware of any one being in it, and pretended to start back with
surprise on finding it occupied by a stranger.

The Frenchman bowed, and apologized with all the superlative
gallantry of a Parisian, and said in broken English, that he had come
to seek a piece of music which he had mislaid.

ME. AND MRS. CC'RSTY SANDBOYS. l(j'7

Miss Cluituey could hardly speak for tlie first fcAv minutes after the
gentleman's entrance — she was lost, half in terror and half in admira-
tion of the Count's moustachios — he was the very image of that love
of a brigand that she had worked, " last half," on a kettle-holder ! At
length she did manage to stammer out a request that he would leave
her that instant ; for if Miss Wewitz were to return and find him
there alone with her, she would never forgive her.

The words were barely uttered, before a loud and impatient ring at
the gate-bell assured !Mis3 Chutney that it could be none other than
Miss Wewitz herself come back, and again she hurriedly entreated the
Frenchman to be gone.

The cunning foreigner, however, told her it was impossible for him
to escape imseen, alleging that the servant had already opened the
hall-door on her way to the gate, so that for him even to attemjit to
cross the passage now, woidd be to publish that which she was so
anxious to keep secret.

" But you cannot remain here, sir !"' exclaimed the terrified girl —
" Miss WcA^atz will be sure to look into this room, and if she catches
you with me — oh, dear ! — oh, dear ! Please do go ; there 's a good
man — do, please."

" N'ayez j^as peur, mon anrje ! ma deesse .'" cried the hyperbolic
Katifde Paris, kissing the tips of his fingers as he spoke ; and then,
as he heard the gate close, he looked hurriedly round the room,
exclaiming, " Vere vill I go — vere vill I go 1 Mese, vere vill

Igor

But there was not in the Avhole apartment a cupboard, nor a
screen, within or behind which the Count could secrete himself ; and
he flew round the room, as he looked wildly about, like a cat in a
strange house. '•' Vat vill I do 1" he cried again and again ; and
then, as he heard the footsteps in the passage approaching the music-
room, he suddenly raised the stiff" leatliern cover from oft" one of the
large globes that stood at opposite corners of the room, and, hastily
putting it over his head and shoulders, knelt down beneath it, so that
it concealed his whole body.

The Frenchman had scarcely had time to settle himself under the
huge cover when Miss Wewitz entered the apartment hastily— sav-
ing, " A thought has just struck me, my love. You know, my dear
Chutney, you are not a child, and I can speak to you as I would to a
.sister. Mine, my good girl, is a delicate position. You are far
away from your parents, and an orphan, as it were, placed under my
charge; and if anything were to happen to you your papa and mamma
would never forgive me, and I'm sure I should never be able to hohl
my head up again. Now you know, my love, mamma has been impru-
dent enough to admit a number of those horrid foreigners under our
roof, and you must really be aware how neccsKary it is, both for your
and my salte, that T should take every precaution, so tliat there nuiy
be no possibibty of your being insulti-d by the rreature.><. Now pro-
mise me, dear Miss Chutney, you'll keep this door locked uiilil \
return. Directly it struck me that I had h-ft you alone here, with :i]l

J68 1851; OR, the adventures of

those men on the premises, I couldn't go a step further until I had
assured myself of your perfect safety. Kow you'll lock yourself in
the moment I've quitted you, and not open the door again tdl I come
back to any one, under any pretence. You'll promise me, now— wont
you, there 's a dear girl ] "

Miss Chutney stood close in front of the globe, trembling lest the
cover should move and discover one of the much-dreaded foreigners to
be hidden beneath, and stammered out, as well as she was able under
the circumstances, that she would be " sure and do as Miss Wewitz

desired." , . i i i i

Miss Wewitz was about to take her departure, and, indeed, had
closed the music-room door after her, when she suddenly opened it
again, as the affrighted Miss Chutney jumped once more in front of
the heavenly sphere.

" Oh !" exclaimed the schoolmistress, '' upon second thoughts, my
dear child, I should be far more easy and comfortable in my niiud, if
I were to lock you in myself, and take the key with me in my
pocket; for then, you know, my love, I should be sure no harm coidd
come to you."

Chutney turned as pale as a young lady of East-Indian extraction
could turn, and replied: "I'm sure— it's— a— very good of you,
ma'am — a— to take care of me, but — a — I can assure you I shall be
safe — a — indeed I shall, ma'am."

"No, no, my dear child!" returned Miss Wewitz, with her blandest
smile, "you think so, I dare say — giddy, foolish thing as you are;
for how can you be expected to know the ways of the world at your
time of life. But I shall not be gone above half-an-hour at the
utmost, so you can easily find something to amuse yourself for so short
a time. You can play over some of your pieces, you know; and you're
far from perfect in your Battle of Prague, as yet. Your ' cries of the
wounded' were anything but Avell marked, the last time I heard
you

Suddenly the schoolmistress' eye caught the uncovered globe in the
corner of the room, and, advancing towards the spot, she said : " Why,
there's the cover off the celestial globe, I declare, my dear! It will
be all scratched, and covered with dust. What ever have you been
doing with it?"

Miss Chutney was ready to drop with fright ; for a minute she was
so confused that she could make no answer, and only sought to inter-
pose herself between Miss Wewitz and the leathern case.

"Whatever have you been doing with it, child?" inquired the
schoolmistress, once more.

" Oh, if you please, ma'am," stammered out the terrified girl; " I
was studying the position of the ' Great Bear' Avhen you came in."

" Oh, indeed ! Well, I don't want to interfere with your studies ;
but I had no idea you had any taste that way," returned the school-
mistress, delighted in the belief that her pupil was astronomically
given, and that she could henceforth lengthen the list of her extras by
the item of " the use of the globes."

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 160

" Well, proceed ! proceed ! I shall be back in less than half an
hour, and then I'll come and sit with you — for I dare say you will
feel it lonely here for awhile. Now, I know you'll excuse me, my
dear; but really I do think it would break my heart if I were to
know that one of those horrid, horrid foreigners had been saying a
word to you;" and then, having hastily arranged her bonnet at the
pier-glass, she simpered, and withdrew once more.

Miss Chutney stood still, horror-stricken, for a few minutes, and
when she heard the key turned in the door with a sharp snap, it
sounded as awful to her as the click of the trigger of a highwayman's
pistol.

Her first impidse was to rush to the door and assure herself that it
was really locked, and when, after pulling impatiently at it, she
became impressed with a full sense of the awkwardness of her posi-
tion, Miss Chutney thought at first that she would stand still and
scream ; but then, it struck her immediately afterwards, that by so
doing, the whole would be discovered, and Miss Wewitz would be
certain to believe that it was all her doing, especially as she had been
silly enough not to acquaint her with what had happened directly she
entered the room. >She had it on the tip of her tongue two or three
times, but that Miss Wewitz was so severe, and took such strange
views of things; then, again, she always expected the young ladies to
be so discreet and circumspect, as she called it, in their behaviour,
though she dare say she liked to have a bit of fun as well as they did,
in her younger days; "only," she added to herself, as she grew half
vexed at her position, '•' perhaps that's so long ago, that it's quite
slipped the old thing's memory."

Then, throwing herself into the easy chair, she put her hands uji
before her face, and indulged in what young ladies are pleased to call
" a good cry."

The sound of the young lady's sobs no sooner reached the ears of
the secreted Count, than he started up, with the leathern cover still
over his head and shoulders, and stood for a few minutes vainly
endeavouring to extricate himself from l)cneath it.

Miss Chutney hearing the smothered exclamations of " tonnere I"
and "parbleu !" that involuntarily escaped from the struggling Count,
suddenly ceased her sobs, and turned round to see what was the
matter, "and no sooner did she set eyes on the ludicrous figure of the
Frenchman, with his legs alone showing beneath the yellow cover,
than she could not refrain from bursting, half hy.sterically, into u loud
fit of laughter; and .so irresistible was the impulse upon her— for the
more the foreigner struggled and swore, the louder she laugluil— that
it was not until a sense of her position had forced itself upon her,
and .she had half bitten her lips through in dread of Mrs. Wewit/.
overhearing her, that the young lady was in any way able to control
herself.

At length, however, by dint of much struggling, the Count suc^
ceeded in ridding himself of the leathern extinguisher, and then
followed a " love-muking' scene between the artful and bombastic

170 1851; OE, THE ADVENTURES OF

Frenchman and the simple, credulous school-girl, that may easily,
and, for the matter of that, must be imagined.

The Frenchman of course flattered the poor girl, who, too ready
to think well of herself, like the best of us, and wanting the worldly
skill to detect his motive for the adulation, drank in at her burning
and tingling ears every word of his honied phrases, till, liking the
words, she grew gradually to like the wretch that uttered them ; and
it was not long before she got to think the Count de Sanschemise one
of the most polite and amiable gentlemen she had ever met with.
Once or twice the Frenchman, pretending to be struck with the
exquisite beauty of her hand, seized it, and was about to press it in
feigned admiration to his lips, when a sense of the impropriety of her
conduct burst upon the girl, and she indignantly snatched it from
him ; but the expert trickster soon knew how to heal the wound he
had inflicted, and in a few minutes, by some dexterous mode of
pleasing — by some infallible appeal to her self-love — had made himself
appear to laer the same charming, agreeable man as ever. Thus
matters progi'essed, until, at the expiration of the half-hour that was
to constitute the term of Miss Wewitz's absence, the weak-minded
and warm-hearted school-girl had told him, the Frenchman, in ap-
proved maiden language, that she certainly must confess she liked
him a little bit ; but it was impossible for her to say she loved him,
when she had only known him for so short a time. She shouldn't
wonder but he only wanted to make a silly of her, after all ; and then
to go and tell all the other gentlemen up stairs what a simpleton she
was, and how she had believed all the many fine things and the soft
nonsense he had been whispering in her ear — though, for the matter
of that, she had not paid the least attention to a single word he had
said — it had all gone in at one ear and out at the other, she could
tell him; for she knew well enough what a pack of deceitful things
the French gentlemen were, — they were all general lovers; and she
dare say that he'd go and repeat the very same things — silly things
— that he'd been telling her, to the first poor girl he met after
leaving.

. Of course, M. le Comte de Sanschemise threw his eyes up to the
ceiling, and gazed steadfastly at the pink, pickled-looking Cupid that
was painted in the centre of it, and supposed to be supporting, while
in the act of flying, the heavy ormolu lamjD that dangled from his
hand; then he whispered, in subdued recitative, an impassioned
French " roman," commencing, —

" Vous le savez! je vous adore!"

all the while gesticulating in the most theatrical manner : now he
extended his arms out, and leaned far forward towards her; now he
suddenly threw back the lapel of his surtout, and tapped quickly
and repeatedly the left side of his embroidered waistcoat; then, as
the sentiment of the " chanson" grew more desperate, he clasped his
forehead with his two hands, and rolled himself backwards and for-
wards, exclaiming, — •

MR. AND MRS. CUESTY SANDBOYS. ]71

" Un seul mot pour me satisfaire !
Dites le moi (ange du ciel), je vous en pr-r-r-ie! dites le moi 1"

after which he tore his wig for a few minutes, and then dropped,
exhausted, into the nearest chair. Unfortunately, however, for the
pathos of the Count, the nearest chair happened to be a " devotional,"
and the seat being lower, and the back less substantial than those of
the ordinary style, and the Frenchman, being unprepared for the
extra distance that he had to descend, fell with such force on the
cushion, that the back gave way with a crash, while M. le Comte him-
self was thrown with his head backwards, and his legs up in the air,
with such violence, that the buttons of his braces and straps were
heard to burst with a loud explosion.

At this particular juncture, the gate-bell was again heard to sound
in the same authoritative manner as that in which Miss Wewitz was
known to delight by way of announcing her adveut.

The Count was instantly on his feet, while the terrified Miss
Chutney — suftering the double fright of the Frenchman's fall and the
schoolmistress's return — begged and prayed of him, if he really did
adore her only half as much as he bad been making such a uoise
about, that he'd return that minute to his former hiding-place.

M. le Comte was busy in trying to shake his trousers down over
his patent-leather half-boots, so that the stockingless state of his feet
might not be discovered, and he stamped on the floor, apparently with
the energy of his devotion, but really in the hope of forcing down his
pantaloons ; he exclaimed that he was her slave for life, and, hearing
the gate close, proceeded, with all possible haste, to ensconce himself
once more beneath the leathern cover of the celestial globe, kissing
his hand passionately several times to the young lady before finally
disappearing from her sight.

Miss Chutney had only time enough to place the devotional close
against the wall, and to arrange the back so that it would not imme-
diately appear to have been broken, when she heard the key placed in
the door, and in a minute afterwards Miss Wewitz made her
appearance.

To Chutney's great horror, on looking at her a second time, she
discovered that 3Iiss Wewitz had jiositivcly brought her work, and
had evidently made up her mind to sit with her the whole time.

What ever .should she do ? The poor dear Count would be smo-
thered, even if he could remain quiet in his hiding-place all that time.
Would it not be better to tell her all that had occurred — but tlien she
would be sure to scold so — besides, it never would be possible to tell
lier all that the Count had said — and really .she'd have to make u)) so
many fibs, if she confessed, that pcrhajis, after all, it would be more
honest of her to keep the whole affair secret fnnn her.

Miss Wewitz merely oljservingthat slie tliought she had not cxoecdt-d
her half-hour by iiiiuiy minutes, and that Miss Cluitney had nut Ikxii
veiy lonely dining lu-r ab.seiice, sat herself down in the easy ehair,
saying that she had ordered the servant to bring tlie tea in tliere, and
that they would have a nice long evening's chat together.

a 2

173 1851; OR, thp: adventures of

As soou as Miss Wewitz had settled herself fairly down to her
work — she was busy fresh trimming one of her old last year's bonnets
for her dear mother — she comnienced informing Miss Chutney, in the
most confidential manner, as to the issue of her visit to the inspector.
That gentleman — and a perfect gentleman he certainly was — for he
was always exceedingly civil to her, though, for the life of her, she
couldn't tell why — Avell, that gentleman had been kind enough to
advise her to get rid of the Frenchmen as rapidly as she could, say-
ing that they were all a pack of swindlers together, and that there
was one whom the Detectives had traced to her house — a Count dc
Sangshimmy, the inspector called him, and whom they well knew to
be nothing more nor less than a Chevalier cVhidustrie, or, in plain
English, a common pickpocket.

Here the cover of the celestial globe betrayed evident symptoms of
internal uneasiness, and Miss Chutney, attracted by the motion of the
cover, could not help casting a side glance towards the spot.

Miss WcAvitz, however, was too deeply concerned in what she wa.s
relating to pay any attention to other matters ; and though her pupil
kept continually interjecting " Indeed 1" and " Dear me ! " and
" Keally, you don't say so !" it was evident that her thoughts were
otherwise occupied, and that she had really not the slightest idea of
what Miss Wewitz Avas talking about.

"And would you believe it, my love?" continued the schoolmis-
tress ; " the inspector tells me I have no means of getting quit of the
wretches but by an action of ejectment, and that will take a year at
least; so, do you know, he advises me" — and here the lady looked
towards the door, to satisfy herself that no one was within hearing —
" do you know, my dear, he advises me, I say" — but, to satisfy her-
self that the communication she was about to make could not be over-
heard, the lady rose from her seat, and opened the music-room door
to see whether any one were in the passage listening — " he advises, I
repeat, if I find I cannot get them out of the house by any other
means, to offer them, first, ten jjounds to go, and even to go as high
as fifty, rather than allow them to continue under the roof; though
of course, my love, for obvious reasons, I don't want this to be known
to a soul beside ourselves, for, if it should get to the ears of any of
the gang, why of course they wouldn't stir a foot until I had given
them the whole fifty. And you'd hardly credit it, my dear, but the
inspector — he really is a very nice, agreeable man, and the poor fellow
lost his wife last Easter holidays — he tells me that the wretches of
Frenchmen might, if they chose, open a show in my best bed-room.
Oh ! my dear child, think of that ! >So pray, for gracious sake ! do be
cautious not to let a word of this escape your lijis; for, should they
but come to hear, by any accident, what lengths the law will allow
them to go to, they would never leave the place until they had suc-
ceeded in draining me of my last penny.

Here again the cover of the celestial globe was seen to shake its
side violently, as if internally convulsed with laughter — when i\Iiss

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 17!5

Wewitz, observing the glances of her pupil to he turned in that direc-
tion, suddenly perceived that the globe still remained uncovered.

" My dear Miss Chutney !"' she exclaimed, " how forgetful you arc
— do you see that you have left the case ott' the globe ; and are you
aware that those things cost a great deal of money."

•' Oh, if you please, ma'am," stammered the East Indian, " a — a — I
was — em — a — waiting for you just to show to me which was the
dragon that is so near the bear, if you please, ma'am."

" That will do another time, ]\Iiss Chutney," answered the school-
mistress, pettishly ; '•' for really I have something else to think uf just
now — so pray put the cover on — there's a good child."
. " But I shall only want to be taking it off again directly, if you
please ; for as to-uight promises to be very fine, I'm going to see if I
can learn the stars by the aid of this globe,' exclaimed Miss Chutney,
starting from her seat, so as to be ready to prevent Miss Wewitz going
towards the cover.

'■' Very well, my dear girl, just as you like," added the schoolmistress ;
"but as it wants'some liours yet till night, it will surely be as well to
cover it up. Are you aware that those globes cost me £lo at Miss
Peabody's sale, just after her bankruptcy ; and that if by accident
they got scratched, they would not be worth one penny. Now
pray don't let me have to speak again, but do put on the case
immediately."

" Yes, ma'am; but really it is so heavy, that I shall only be obliged
to come and trouble you to take it off for me again in an hour or
two ; and you needn't be alarmed, I will see that no harm comes to
the celestial globe ;" and then, perceiving Miss Wewitz about to get
up from her chair, Miss Chutney hurried towards her, and leaned
over, with pretended regard for her, but really and truly to keep her
close fixed to her seat.

Miss Wewitz was too shrewd a woman not to perceive, by her
pupil's manner, that she had some secret motive for wishing the globe
to remain uncovered; so, laying her work down, she said, in her
most dignified manner, " If Miss Chutney has not strength enough
to put the case on the globe, after having had quite strength enough
to take it off, why Miss Wewitz must do it for her, I suppose;" so
saying, the lady made an effort to rise; whereupon Miss Chutney
clung round her neck more tightly tlian ever, and the tighter she
clung, the harder Miss Wewitz struggled to get from her. At length,
however, she succeeded in freeing herself irom her embraces, whdi
the terrified girl gave a loud slu-iek, and innne<liately, to MiS3
Wewitz's inexplicable horror, she beheld the dome-like cover of the
globe heave and heave, and finally rise up and rush out of the room,
with a i>air of black pantaloons dangling l)eneath it.

It was now Miss Wewitz's turn to scream, which she di<l luudcr
and shari)er than Miss Chutney liad screamed before lier— crying
frantically, "There's a man in the house !— there's a nuxn !— there s
a man !— there's a man !" and then, determined, to solve the mystery,
she set off after the two-legged cover of tlie globe as fast m her own

174 1851; OE, the adventures op'

legs would cany her. The first object of M. le Comte de Sansclieniisc
was to make for the stairs that led to his bed-room ; but with the
huge leathern cover of the glol^e over his head, and reaching nearly
to his knees, it was impossible for him to tell the direction in Avhich
he was going. In his eagerness to escape detection, he ran towards
the top of the kitchen stairs, instead of the bottom of those that led to
the upper part of the house; and Miss Wewitz had just reached the
music-room door when she saw him precipitated headlong down the
flight ; and heai'd him afterwards, as he got near to the bottom, go
bump, bump — rolling heavily from stair to stair, almost like the globe
whose place he had taken.

Miss Wewitz shrieked involuntarily at the sight of the catastrophe —
Miss Chutney shrieked sympathetically — and Mi*s. Wewitz, who came
rushing from the housekeeper's room — and the servants, who came
hurrying from the kitchen — all shrieked, they hardly knew why or
wherefore, but principally because they heard the others shriek.

Then came all the Frenchmen, tearing down the stairs — two and
three at a time — some with their hair in paper, and a silk handker-
chief thrown hastily over their heads — others with the curling-tongs still
in their hands, and half their locks curled, and the other half hanging
in matted hanks about their faces — while others had one of their
moustachios and whiskers bright red, and the other jet black — others,
again, were in their paper collars, and others in embroidered slippers
and no socks.

When Miss Wewitz saw the human avalanche descending from the
first landing, she uttered a piercing " Oh!" and, suddenly closing the
door, turned the key, so that she and Chutney at least might be safe.
Then she threw herself into the fauteuil, and burled her face in her
handkerchief — first tittering and then sobbing, and ultimately scream-
ing, and pattering her feet upon the carpet like two drum-sticks doing
the " roll" upon a drum.

The alarmed Chutney threw herself upon her neck, and begged her
not to " give way" so, for that she'd be sure to make herself ill — and
that her eyes would be red and swollen for hours afterwards.

" Indeed ! indeed ! Miss Wewitz, if you'll only believe — it was no
fault of mine — indeed — and indeed it wasn't."

Miss Wewitz " came to" for a moment, and exclaimed — " Oh, you
bad, bad, base girl — after all the attention I've paid to your morals,
too! How you dare stand there and say such a thing, and not
expect the floor to open under you, is a mystery to me ! Oh, you
wicked, wicked story, you! Where do you expect to go to. Miss?
But you'll write out the first chapter of Telemachus before you have
any supper to-night — and it's that cold rice pudding that you're
remarkably fond of."

Then Miss Chutney, in her turn, gave vent to her feelings. " I'm
sure, ma'am, it wasn't my fault, sobbed the girl — it was you yourself
that would lock him in the room with me, though I begged of you
not to lock the door — but you would do it, and what could I do?"

"Do!" retorted the angry Miss Wewitz — "Do!" (and this she

MR, AND MES. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 175

pitcliecl at least two octaves higher) — "3*011 could Lave screamed,
couldu't you — or you could have pulled the bell — or even broken the
■windows, — it wouldn't have mattered to you, they would have all gone
down in the bill, you know. Don't you think I would have raised
the whole house, and the whole neighbourhood, indeed, if I had been
in your place, I'd have torn all the beard oft' the creature's face by
handfuls, that I would ; — but you, of course, must hide the wretch
aAvay from your best friends, and pretend you had been looking out
for the Great Bear — the Great Bear, you might well say, indeed — and
the impudent monkey, too. But you'll bring a scandal upon my
school, you will — you wicked, wicked girl."

'' Well, I don't care how much I'm punished for it, Miss Wcwitz —
but I'm not to blame. If you were to stop my puddings for the whole
of next " half," it Avouldn't make me think otherwise. I didn't want
to be shut up with the man, but yoxi would do it,"

" How dare you say I did it. Miss," asked the schoolmistress, in her
most authoritative manner, " when I didn't ?"

" I'm sure you did. Miss Wewitz,"

*' How often am I to tell you not to contradict, Miss % I tell you I
didn't."

" I'm sure I don't wish to contradict, ma'am, but I'm quite certain
you did."

'• There, you arc contradicting again, Miss, — for I say, once for all, I
didn't,"

"Well, then, I say you did."

" Hold your tongue. Miss Chutney, and remember whom you're
spealdng to. Have I not informed you, Miss, that I did no such
thing f

'•Well, I don't care, but I'll stand to it as long as I've got a word
to say — you did lock me up alone with the Frenchman, — so there l"
cried the headstrong East Indian.

Miss Wewitz drew herself up as erect as she could, and said, in her
very mildest tones, as if she were in no way annoyed by what the
young lady had spoken, though inwardly she could scarcely contaia
hersetf for passion, — " Very well. Miss ; we will see who is mistress in
this establishment ; so, if you please, you will come with me, and I
shall lock you up in the linen- room at the top of the house until you
are willing to acknowledge your fault, and beg my pardon. There,
go along with you, do! I'm quite astonished at your bad behaviour,

and after all I've done for you !' And with these words Miss Wewitii

pushed the sobbing and muttering girl up the stairs before her.

]7G 1851; OR, the adventures of

CHAPTER XVIIT.

" True fiieiidsliip, wLen fwok tlirow aseyde,
What then are riches, i)reyde, or power ? —
Vain gewgaws! Mekin sec their gueyde,
May sair repent hiug ere decth's hour.

" True friendship that can ne'er cause streyfe,
But e'en keep frae distress and pain,
An' show what bliss it gie's thro' leyfe,
In every bwosom still sud reign."

Friciid>:hip. Bnlhul, hij Ruhert Anderson.

We must leave Miss Chutney for awhile imprisoned in the linen
room, and return to Mr. Sandboys, imprisoned in the police cell ; for
it was during the absence of himself and wife from Parthenon House,
tliat the incidents detailed in the previous chapter had taken place. _

Mrs, Sandboys soon began to perceive that feelings were quite
foreign to a police office ; and after her first outburst of indignation,
she set herself to Avork, like a shrewd woman of the world, to discover
some means of procuring bail for her poor incarcerated Cursty.

The question was, whom could she send to? Strangers in London,
to whom could they apply for assistance under the distressing circuin-
stances ? She was half-ashamed to send to Mrs. Wewitz, and acquaint
her that Mr. Sandboys was locked up on suspicion of being a common
tliief ; but there was no one else that she knew who could vouch for
their respectability. This was all that was required, and, appearing so
little to ask, she summoned up all her courage, and scribbled a hasty
and pathetic appeal to the lady.

Jobby, Avho had accompanied Elcy to view the outside of the
Crystal Palace, while the father and mother were inspecting^ the in-
terior, and who had seen his father carried off by the police, and
followed him, with his aftrighted sister, to the police office, was ready
at his mother's call to hurry with the note she had written to Wimble-
don Common. Elcy was but of little use ; for though Mrs. Sandboys
was too much occupied with the thoughts of releasing her husband to
display at present much concern for his painful position, the girl
could think of nothing else, and sat in the waiting-room of the police
court, sobbing aloud, and trembling with fear, lest her father
should be injured in any v/ay.

The dutiful lad started off at a rapid pace ; and though hailed by
many an omnibus that was wending his way, they were by far too
slow for him ; for on he ran, as youths only can run, Avith his hand-
kerchief tied round his waist, and racing with every cab that came up
with him. At length, however, when he had reached Brompton, he
Avas fairly beaten, and Avas glad to avail himself, spent and out of
breath as he Avas, of the first onmibus that passed him.
p. Scarcely half-an-hour after this, he Avas pulling violently at the
gate-bell of their temporary lodgings.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 177

The impatience of the summons brought Miss Wewitz rapidly
down from the linen-room, wherein she had safely locked Miss .
Chutney, ha-ving this time assured herself, by carefully examining
every cupboard and hole and corner in the place, that she was '• all
alone."

[Mrs. Wewitz had no sooner made herself acquainted Avith the pur-
port of the letter, than she informed her daughter of the shocking
news it contained.

" Here ! !Mr. Sandboys is in prison, on suspicion of robbery, and
wants us to come and sj^eak to his respectability ! Well, really,''
exclaimed the old lady, " I can't think what's come to all the people
of late ! What do you think, my dear Di ? — Avould it be prudent,
now, for us, situated as we are, to mix ourselves up in the matter ?"

" Pr-r-rudent !" echoed Miss Diana Wewitz, who was certainly not
in the humour to grant favours — " in the first place, pray let me ask
you what we know of the Sandboys ? They say they have come
from Cumberland ; but what proof have we of the fact ? How, then,
could you, dear mother, lay your hand on your heart, and swear
before a magistrate that you believe Mr. Sandboys to be a perfect
gentleman ? And very respectable it would be, indeed, to have it pub-
lished in all the morning pajjcrs, that the lady of Parthenon House
Establislnncnt for Young Ladies had appeared at a police office to
speak to the character of a person detained on suspicion of robbery,
and of whom it turned out, on cross-examination (for the counsel
■would be sure to cross-examine you severely) she knew nothing
whatever, and very probably, under the excitement of the moment,
)0U would get so confused, that you'd swear to aln\ost anything
that was asked you, and so lay yourself open to be indicted for wilful
and corru})t perjury."

" Oh, my dear child ! don't say another word," cried Mrs. Wewitz,
horrified at the picture which her tulcntc<l daughter had given her of
the probable consequences attendant upon her assenting to Mrs.
Sandboys' simple request. "Well, my love, I'm sure I should have
done it, if you had not been by me to ad\isc me ; and it would have
been with the best of motives, too."

"Yes, mother; and, as usual with you, with the worst possil)le
results," replied Miss Wewitz, with a triuuqjhaut smile. " Besides,
dear mother, do just reflect for one minute ! Here have we a gang of
French swindlers already located in the house — of that we are cer-
tain, for we have it on the very best authority — that nice civil young
man, the inspector, told me as much only this very day, you know,
mother; and isn't it very likely that you may have been impriKlciit
enou'di to admit into this establishment some similar characters
belonging to this country. I shouldn't wonder at all now but they're
only part and parcel of the same gang."

" Well, my <lear Di," said the old lady, with a most reverential
shake of the heafi, " I'm sure, with the educati<.n I've given you, you
ouf'ht to know much better than I do about sudi things. Hut Mrs.
Sandboys was such a nice homely body, and the geiitlemau liiniscU"

178 1851 ; OR, the adventures ar

appeared the last person on eartli to be guilty of anything mean or
bad."

"Ah, my dear mother! you don't know the -wickedness of the world,
and if you did, you wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that the
nice homely body, as you call her, was only part of a deep-laid scheme,
and it's only a wonder that the place was not stripped. But how I
go through it all is far more than I can tell — if I was an ordinary-
minded woman it would kill me. Here, this morning, I return to
my home, on the eve of receiving my pupils — the daughters of some
of the first families — and I am informed that I have a gang of
swindlers under my roof ; and this afternoon I learn that another
party, who has been residing in my house, is now detained on sus-
picion of robbery. However it is that my mind doesn't give way
under it, is to me incomprehensible." And then, fetching a deep-
drawn sigh, she added, " but a single straw extra will break the over-
burthened camel's back. However, go you and write a note to the
woman, saying, that you regret you cannot conscientiousljj comply
with her request, and adding, at the same time, that you would thank
her to send for her luggage at the earliest opportunity, as, after what
has transpired, j'ou cannot think of allowing the family to continue
their apartments at Parthexon House."

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. l7f)

CHAPTER XIX.

" Of a' the scenes in leyfe's lang round,
Sweet Toutb I leyke thee niii can be found;
With plizzer thou dost meast abound —

Tbreyce happy teymes !
Wi' joys wbeyte parfit fair au' sound,

Unclogg'd by creymes.

" Or when of luive the kittlin' dart
Furst wbithers i' tb' unconscious heart,
Wi' a' the pleasiu' painfu' smart

Sec passions awn ;
An raptures dirl thro' every part,

Befwore unknown."

A New Year's Epistle, by Slagg.

While Master Jobby Sandboys is on his road back to bis jiarents at
the Police Station, we will avail ourselves of the uninteresting inter-
val, and continue our narrative of the course of events at Parthenon
House.

We left !Miss Chutney, with Miss Wewitz, in the linen room, at the
top of the Establishment for Young Ladies.

The key had no sooner been turned upon the young East Indian, than
the pride which had borne her u^) till then gave way in her solitude; and,
now that nobody could see her, she sat down on the inverted clothes-
basket, and indulged in a " good cry." This, however, served but little
to mollify the stubbornness of her spirit ; for in a few minutes she
started up again from her seat, and biting her lips, as if annoyed with
herself for her weakness, said between her teeth, as she tossed her
head till her ringlets shook again — " Beg her pardon, indeed ! — no ! not
if she was to starve me to death up here, I wouldn't I — and, what's
more, I wont be the first to make it up, I can tell her. I'll let her
see I can sulk as well as she can." And then suddenly she burst out
singing, ascending and descending the " chromatic scale" in as loud a
voice as she possibly could, till the whole house seemed to echo again
with the notes.

Presently she stopped abruptly, and said, as she laughed to herself,
half in triumph, " Tlicre I that will just let the old thing know I'm
not very miserable!" After this, she amused herself by thinking
how nice and savage Wewitz would be to hear she was so happy — and
how she would scold the maids.

The next moment, to pass the time, she pulkd all her hair down,
and began plaiting it in a series of tails, to see how she would look
with it "crimped" in the morning; but, in a few minutes, the thought
struck her that she would wear it like that afi'ected old thing, Wewitz —
just to tease her. " She would let her see," she murnun-od, as she
])assed her comb through her long tresses, " that other people hud got
foreheads as well as Lerself."

o

]8'0 1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

At last, by dint of pulling all her front hair nearly from the roots,
and tying it back tight with the ribbon from her collar, she managed
to make it keep as she wished. Whereupon she went to the window,
and h)oked into one of the panes, to see how it became her.

" Ha!" she exclaimed, as slie caught a faint sight of a reflection of
her face, "it makes me look just like a cockatoo. I declare to good-
ness, too, it quite hurts me to shut my eyes, and my nostrils are both
drawn uj), for all the world as if I'd got under them a cup of that
filthy senna and prunes that Miss Wewitz will force us to take once
a month — to sweeten our blood, as she calls it, though it's only to
make us eat less, I'm sure!"

As there was no bearing the torture of what Miss Chutney termed
the cockatoo-style of coiffure, she proceeded forthwith to arrange her
locks in a series of those hairy black puddings, which are known by
the name of sausage curls ; — this done, she threw up the window, and
looked out into the gravelly and deserted playground, her arms
resting on the sill. In a few minutes she began singing, or rather
humming to herself thoughtlessly, the flnale to " La Generentola,"
and immediately, to her great alarm, she saw the head of the Count de
Sanschemise thrust from one of the lower windows, and his face turned
up towards her. Miss Chutney stopped in the middle of one of her runs,
and started back from where she was standing. " Well, if that isn't
the French gentleman ! and he'll be sure to fancy I did it on purpose,"
she inwardly exclaimed. " Oh, what ever will he think of me ! I'd
have given anything rather than it should have occurred. It will be
putting such silly notions in the man's head; making him think, I
dare say, that one's quite taken with him, and that I'm sure I'm
not. He's got very fine expressive eyes of his own, certainly — but, oh
dear ! Frenchmen are so deceitful ! His countenance is the very image
of that love of a head that Miss Tatting did in crayons last 'half.' I
wonder if he's gone in yet."

The latter remark Miss Chutney uttered in a half whisper, as if afraid
to let herself hear it; and then she crept softly back towards the window,
where she stood beside the shutters, stretching herself forward by
degrees, and raising herself on tiptoe, so that she might look down
without thrusting her head so far out as to be visible. Unfortunately,
however, just as she had got to the point of seeing the tassel of the
Count's smoking cap, she lost her balance, and, tipping suddenly for-
ward, was thrust, head and shouldei'S, half out of the window. In the
fright of the moment she uttered a suppressed scream, and imme-
diately disappeared. " Gracious ! gracious ! and it's impossible to let
him know I didn't mean it," she cried; — "it must have seemed to
him for all the world like as if I was calling to him. Oh dear! oh
dear ! oh dear !" and, in the flurry of her emotions, she sat herself down
on the top of the screw-press for the table-cloths, that stood in the
extreme corner of the room, and hiding her face in her hands, beat
a tattoo with her feet on the floor in vexation at what had happened.
In this position she remained, thinking over her past conduct
with the Frenchman. Perhaps she had been too forward with him

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 181

from the first. He must think her a very bold, rude girl, — oh, yes,
that he must. She ought never to have been a party to his secreting
himself in the music room. Yes! yes! she had behaved very impru-
dently and wrong all through, though she would never acknowledge
as much to Miss Wewitz; — no! not if she was to be torn to pieces by
a thousand wild horses. Then the young lady only wished she could
go over it all again; she'd be as cold and distant with him as ever
that prosy old methodist preacher of a Mentor, in that horrid
Telemaehus, could have desired any young lady to be.

Suddenly, she was awakened from her reflections by a gentle
tapping at the window. Had the noise been louder. Miss Chutney
would have favoured the inmates of Parthenon House with one of her
best shrieks; but as it was, the sound was so slight, that it was not
until repeated several times that the young lady even noticed it. It
was like the beak of a bird pecking against the glass, or the twig of
an adjacent tree blown against the window, — and yet there was nothing
to be seen.

Miss Chutney rose from her scat and moved a few steps towards
the casement, when there suddenly aj)peared outside the top joint of
a fishing-rod. Instinctively she drew back, and, still watching the
mysterious implement, she saw it swing to and fro, while presently
the line which dangled from the tip of it was jerked into tlie room,
and deposited on the floor a three-cornered pink note, fastened to the
hook. Without a thought, and almost mechanically, as it were, Miss
Chutney ran forward and put her foot upon the letter, when, the line
being detained, the top joint of the rod outside was seen to bend,
until at last the hook tore its waj' through the paper, and being sud-
denly released sprung back again out of the window.

For some little time Miss Chutney stood still, looking at the
epistolary triangle, half afraid to raise it. It was from the French-
man, she felt assured, and she ought to have nothing to do with it ;
it would only be encouraging him. She'd send it back to him — but
how? thought she, the moment afterwards. If she threw it from the
window, it must fall into the playground, that was certain; and
then Wewitz, with her hawk's eyes, woulil get hold of it, and be
sure to blame her all the more ; and if she went to the window and
made signs to the man that she wanted him to take the letter baclc,
of course he'd pretend he didn't understand her, and would be certain
to get kissing his hand to her, and all tliat nonsense; so it would be
better to let it lie wliere it was — and lie there it might for her, for she
wasn't going to read it, she was sure.

Accordingly, she resumed her seat on the edge of the inverted
clothes-basket, and. taking her croclict needles out of her pockrt, set
to work at the pinoushion-cover she had l.alf finished, with tlie view
of dismissing the subject entirely from her mind. She had, however,
made but l.al -a- I'/zen loops when >he paused, and, stretching (»ut her
foot, drew the letter towards her along the boards; then she ma le
two or tliree more loops — all wrong — and then looked <lowii sideways,
like a bird, at the note, to read the aldrcss en the floor; Imt, unluckily,

o2

3 82 1851; or, the adventures of

the letter was face downwards, so, upon second thoughts, she began to
think that, as the thing was there, she might as well see what was in
it ; for, whether she read it or not, the Frenchman, of course, would
make certain that she liacl, — and so would Miss Wewitz, for the
matter of that, if she came to find out anything about it ; so, as she
wasn't going to be suspected unjustly, she'd just have a peep, and see
what ever he could want in writing to her 1

Miss Chutney took up the letter — read it — and, as she did so, the
blood mounted to her cheeks, suffusing her ears with her blushes. It
was filled with the same high-flown and voluptuous sentiment, and
the same exaggerated terms of admiration, as the Count de Sansche-
mise had poured into her ear only a few hours before. It was grate-
ful, nevertheless, to the weak girl to think she was so much admired ;
she contrasted in her own mind the difference of the terms in which
the Frenchman addressed her from those in which Miss Wewitz had
spoken of her, and it was no little consolation to her, in her punish-
ment, to believe that there was one who thought well of her. But
still he could not possibly mean all he said. How could he know
enough of her to tell what kind of a girl she was in so a short time ?
Oh, it was merely what every Frenchman said to every girl, and she
was foolish, very foolish, to fancy otherwise.

As this varying train of reflections was passing through Miss Chut-
ney's mind, the fishing-rod again appeared at the window, and again,
after the same movements had been gone through, the hook was
jerked into the room, with a slip of paper attached, on which was
written, in large French characters —

Miss Chutney could not help ejaculating, " Well, what impudence !
Besides, I've got nothing to say to the man," she added; " and even if
I had, I'm sure I've got nothing to say it with up here." Then the
thought suddenly struck her, that if she were to give the gentleman
to understa .d as much, he might remain quiet, for he'd soon get tired
of writi/ig to her when he found that he could get no answer; " and if
he goes on in this way, with that fishing-rod continually being poked
up to my window," she added, " old Wewitz is sure, before long, to
find it out somehow, for I do believe she's got eyes in her back
hair."

Accordingly, she went to the window, and made signs to the
Frenchman that she had no writing materials at her command. This
she expressed by first moving her fingers, as if engaged in a rapid act
of penmanship; and then, shaking her head and lifting up her hands,
expressed, in the most intelligible pantomime she was mistress of, that
it was impossible for her to perform the operation — after which, she
smiled, bowed, and withdrew.

She had, however, scarcely settled down to crochet again, when the
fishing-rod once more made its appearance at the window, and imme-

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 183

diately afterwards a pencil and a sheet of paper were whisked into
the room.

" Well, I never !" cried Chutney, though by no means so displeased at
the circumstance as she tried to persuade herself she was — " though I
certainly must say he's very persevering. But I'll offend him — I'll
scold him well for daring to send me such things. No, I wont; it
would look so unkind after all the trouble he's taken. Oh, no ! I'll
tell him I'm locked up here, and beg of him to desist, as it's all
through him that I've been punished." So, seizing the paper and
pencil, she hastily proceeded to indite a communication to the gentle-
man to that effect.

In a few minutes after the fishing-rod had disappeared with her
note, it returned, carrying a letter of intense condolence, and a corni-
chon of chocolate drops.

Now, if one thing in the world could have made Miss Chutney
think more highly of the Frenchman than another, it would have
been the present he had chosen — for, of all the young ladies in the
" first class," she was the most renowned for her love of " sweeties."
So she immediately proceeded to devour the love-letter and the hon-
hons at the same time, and both with all the ardour of a boarding-
school miss.

" Oh, how kind of him 1" she exclaimed, as she crunched between
her teeth the little white sugar-plums that ornamented the top of the
drops — " and it's really so thoughtful. Well, I do think he's one of
the nicest-mannered Frenchmen I've ever known. He must be very
good-tempered — and he writes such beautiful letters, and sympathises
with me so warmly. Oh, how glad I am I paid such attention to my
French last ' half "

Having finished the drops, she tore off the back of the letter
last conveyed to her, and scribbled, with the paper on her
knee, a brief expression of thanks for his commiseration and con-
fectionery.

This, of course, was followed by a third epistle — still more impas-
sioned than the last — and with it a long stick of candied angelica,
both of which were so extremely gratifying to the young lady,
that she was puzzled in her mind to know which pleased her the
most.

Thus mutters went on till long past dusk, so that, when her supper
of bread and water was brought to her by Miss Wewitz's orders,
Miss Chutney had already had such a feast of sweatmcats and ginger-
bread, that she felt delighted her a])petite Avould allow her to tell tlic
maid to take the supi)cr back to ^liss Wewitz, with her compliments,
and say, that as her i)arents i)aid for something a little better than
bread and water, she would rather go without food altogether than
Bubmit to be imposed upon; this message the maid, who had suffered
from the sclioolmistress's ill-huniour, was only too glad to have it in
her power to deliver fiiithfully — and the consequence was, that MLs3
Wewitz felt herself culled upon to pay a visit to the young lady.

On entering the linen-room, the schoolmistress, who had carried

184 1851; OR, the adventures of

the bread and water back with her, placed it on one of the shelves, in her
most dignified manner, and, telling Miss Clmtney that she was utterly
astounded at her bad, bad behaviour, begged to inform the young lady
that she would get nothing else in that establishment, until she had
partaken of the wholesome, though frugal meal that had been pro-
vided for her; adding, that if she went on in the way she was now
going, it would not be long ere she would jump to have a meal of good
white bread and water before retiring to rest. There was not a more
proud, dainty girl in the whole establishment, she regretted to say,
than Miss Chutney, nor one that left more orts on her plate. Miss
Wewitz had long thought she wanted a good lesson on this point, and
now she should have one that she would carry with her through life.
And then the schoolmistress proceeded to narrate to the young lady
how her dear, dear motlier had once had occasion to punish her for
her daintiness ; for that, in her early days, boiled rice-pudding was
not good enough for her; and how her dear mother had locked her
up in her bedroom, for three whole days, with the plate of boiled rice
pudding by her side ; at the end of which time she was glad enough
to eat up every scrap of it, and had really enjoyed it so much, that
now she verily believed she preferred that kind of pudding to any
other, and never partook of it without blessing her parent for the
wholesome lesson she had taught her.

Miss Chutney said not a word, but tossed her head haughtily, and
smiled, as she mentally contrasted the story with the schoolmistress's
total abstinence from her favourite dish on their " horrid rice-puitding
days."

Miss Wewitz, finding that her moral lecture on the beauties of
boiled rice-pudding did not produce that solemn impression on the
young lady's mind which she had been induced to expect, requested
to be informed whether ]\Iiss Chutney meant to partake of the repast
that had been provided for her, or not ?

Miss Wewitz paused for a reply, but Miss Chutney conde-
scended to make no answer, and proceeded with the crimping of the
lace round the edge of her apron, as if she had not even heard the
question.

Miss Wewitz smiled, as she bit her lips with suppressed anger, and,
bowing in her politest manner, said, perhaps Miss Chutney would wish
her to go down on her bended knees, and beg of her to partake of
some nourishment ; adding, that of course she was nobody in that
establishment — and there was not the least respect due to her — oh,
no ! to be sure not ! — she wasn't even worthy of being answered, not
she — it wouldn't luake the slightest difference to her if ]\Iiss Chutney
was seriously to injure her health by her perverse conduct — no ! not
the slightest in the world ! — and here she simpered sarcastically, as if
the bare idea of her want of sympathy with one of her parlour-
boarders was an excellent joke.

The irony of the schoolmistress, however, was wholly lost upon
Miss Chutney ; for though Miss Wewitz continued simpering for
some few minutes, the young lady did not so much as turn her head.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 185

but went on measuring the border of her apron over her middle
■finger.

Miss Wewitz could endure the nonchalance of Miss Chutney no
longer ; so, seizing her by the arm, she desired her to be off to bed
that moment ; and, as she dragged the young lady up from the in-
verted clothes-basket on which she was seated, she bade her take her
bread and water with her ; for long before daylight she knew she
would be only too glad to have it, and feel thankful for it, too.

Miss Chutney walked as leisurely as she possibly could towards the
shelf on which the tray was placed, and had just raised it in her hand,
when the exasperated Wewitz seized her by the arm, and began
shaking her, saying, '• Do move, girl, as if you had some little life in
you, do r In the warmth of her indignation, however, she agitated the
young lady so violently, that the contents of the tray — bread, plate,
glass, water and all — were dashed to the floor and dei)0sited at her
feet, splashing the front breadths of Miss Wcwitz's black satin dress,
much to the annoyance of the schoolmistress, and the amusement
of the pupil.

As the pedagogue in petticoats stooped down to wi])e the liquid
from the bottom of her skirt, she vowed all kinds of vengeance
against the delighted Chutney, and among other threats she declared
that, before she laid her head down on her pillow that niglit, she
would pen a letter to the young lady's guardian, and desire him to
fetch her from the school immediately, or she would be sure to
destroy her hard-earned reputation. In this manner Miss Wewitz
continued to threaten and rail at Miss Chutney, as she followed her
down the stairs to her bedroom.

The young East Indian, however, said not a word in reply : all that
passed her lips was an occasional sarcastic simper ; and though Miss
Wewitz begged to assure her, on leaving her bedroom, that she
would have no breakfast in that establishment on the morrow, pro-
vided the slice of bread that she had picked up and brought with
her down stairs remained uneaten, Miss Chutney merely bowed in
answer, for she was determined not to give way. She had said
at the beginning that she would not be the first to make it up, and
she would let the sour old thing see that she was no longer a child, to
be kei)t under lock and key, indeed.

When the enraged schoolmistress had (juittcd the apartment, slam-
ming the door after her, and Miss Chutney was left alone, she could
not help thinking how dcsola e and friendless ^he was, with n.t a suul
near her to share or soothe her sorrows. As her head la. upon the
pillow, she thought how all her schoolfelluws were with their iViuuds at
home, enjoying themselves, while she was thousands of mihis away Irom
every one that cared for her. The only kind word she had leceivt^d all
that day was fro n a stranger, and if iL iiadn't been for the sweetmeats
he liad given her, she really didn't know what would have h ppeiied to
her. All she did know was, she would hav(! starved l)eforc hIic had
touched that liorrid bread and water. Still, she could not lielp
thinking how odd it was that the French gentleman hhould trouble

186 1851 ; OK, the adventures of

himself so much about her ! what could he see in her 1 His whole
manner had bee a so strange, and he had seemed so anxious to make
her acquaintance from the very first ! Of course, she could tell very
well that all he had said about the piece of music he had lost was a
little white fib, just as an excuse to introduce himself to her. It
was very impudent of him, though, and she ought to be very much
vexed with him for daring to take such a liberty with her, but — she
knew not how it was — she i-eally couldn't.

Then she wondered who he was. She had heard he was a French
Count, and he himself had told her he was single. He'd make a very
good husband, whoever had him ; for if he could be so good to one
whom he scarcely knew a' all, what wouldn't he do for one whom he
had sworn at the altar to " love and cherish." (Miss Chutney, and
the whole of the first class, had the marriage-service by heart, it being
their usual custom to pass the time in church by reading it during
the sermon.)

' Thus the school-girl continued ruminating and ruminating upon
the more pleasant part of her day's adventures, until she gradually
glided into sleep.

In the morning, the self-willed Miss Chutney woke as determined
as ever, and though the first thing that met her sight was the piece
of dry bread on the chair at her bedside, she chuckled triumphantly,
as she said, " I wonder which of us will be tired out first f Then, as
she once more turned over in her mind all the occurrences of the
previous evening, and remembered Miss Wewitz's threat of send-
ing for her guardian, she grew red in the face, and bit her lips with
vexation, for he'd be sure to read her one of his long prosy lectures,
and write a solemn account of the Avhole affair to her papa, by the
very next mail to India. The moment after this, however, she was
laughing the threat to scorn, and saying to herself, that old Wewitz
was too fond of parlour boarders to think of expelling one — and
especially one who remained at the school all the holidays, as she did.

All of a sudden it struck her that, just to let Wewitz see she
didn't mind about being locked up, she'd dress herself that minute,
and be off" up into the linen room, so that when the old thing got up,
she would find that she had gone up there of her own accord, and
then she'd be ready to bite her fingers off" with vexation — which would
be such fun.

Accordingly, the young lady " slipped on her things" as rapidly as
ehe could, and, having done so, crept stealthily up to her place of
confinement. Then it struck her that she would open the window,
and just let Wewitz know that she was already in the linen room,
and, what was more, that she wasn't breaking her heart about it either,
by singing over that lovely —

" Tyrant ! soon I'll burst thy chains.'*

To tell the truth, too, though Miss Chutney did not dare confess as
much to herself, and would doubtlessly have shrieked had any one
ventured to hint as much to her — the young lady had a secret wish

MR. A:ND MRS. CLTRSTY SANDBOYS. 187

to let tlie kind French gentleman know that she was still incarcerated
at the top of the house.

Miss Chutney had just got to "chains," and was inwardly congra-
tulating herself on the excellent quality of her lower notes that
morning, when the head of M. le Comte do Sauschemise, done up in
a Bandana silk neckerchief, bobbed suddenly out of the best bed-
room window.

The head of Miss Chutney bobbed as suddenly in ; and then she
•went through the same course of timid doubts and fears as she had
indulged in on the preceding day. Again she felt satisfied that the
Count would fancy she had commenced singing only to attract his
attention; again she asked herself, for about the hundredth time,
" What ever would he think of her?" and again her girlish reveries
were put to flight by the appearance of the fishing-rod, which the
Count used as the postal arrangement for " dropping her a line."

The billet that it now conveyed was, if possible, penned in a more
superlative strain than those of the preceding day, and Miss Chutney,
after having read it, her ears burning with her blushes the while,
scribbled a hasty reply with the pencil that accompanied it — thanking
the Count for his tender inquiries, saying she was afraid she was un-
worthy of the high eulogiums he was kind enough to heap upon her,
and informing him that she was undergoing a short term of solitary
confinement, and bread and water, for having been imprudent enough
to permit him to secrete himself in the music room during the
absence of her schoolmistress.

The reply had not been despatched manyminutes, when the piscatorial
post brought backa second communication from the Count, and thistime
it bore substantial proofs of the Frenchman's sympathy for the tender
prisoner, for attached to one of the hooks that dangled at the end of the
line was a petit pain, while hanging to another was a bunch of
grapes. The bread and fruit alone would have been sufficient to
make a deep and lasting impression on the very impressionable
Miss Chutney, even had they been unaccompanied by any verbal
expression of commiseration or attachment ; but when she found, on
breaking the roll in two, a letter secreted in the crumb, vowing ever-
lasting affection, and i)rotesting that he Avould Ijc her slave for life if
fshe would but fly with him to La helle France, her delight knew no
bounds.

Miss Chutney had only just finished perusing the proposal, Avhcn
she heard the sound of Miss Wcwit/.'s foot upon the stairs. Hastily
dashing the line out of the window, she ran to her accustomed seat
on the edge of the inverted clothes-basket, and, pusliing the roll and
grapes and letter under her apron, sat there, waiting the coming uf her
tyrant, as calm, and almost as lifeless, as a vegetarian.

Mi.ss Wewitz was lost in astonishment to find iliss Chutney so
utterly hardened, as she termed it. However, she had written to her
guardian, and the tone of her letter was such, that she felt confi-
dently he would be with them the next day, so Mis.s C^hutney
could do as she jileased ; from that moment Miss Wewitz washed

188 1851; OE, the adventures of

her bands of her — though she could not help observing that, after
the unremitting attention she bad paid to her morals, such conduct
was a most heart-rending return. With this pathetic sentiment she
closed the door, and, having turned the key, descended the stairs with
it in her pocket.

Miss Chutney could hardly contain herself for passion when
she found that the cross, spiteful old thing, as she termed Miss
Wewitz, had really sent for her guardian. She never thought she
would have carried matters to that length. She had half a mind to,
and it would just servo Miss Wewitz right if she did, accept the
French gentleman's offer, and place herself under bis protection.
" Then,''' she added, exultingly, " how nicely Miss Clever would be
caught in her own trap, when Miss Chutney 's guardian did come
down, and find that that young lady had eloped with a Frenchman
to the Continent. Where would her trumpery bard-earned reputation,
that she was always making such a fuss about, be then, she would
like to know? — for of course," continued Miss Chutney to herself,
" the news wouldn't be very long in travelling to all the mothers'
ears, Avho would be sure to take fright, and leave her without a pupil
in the house."

" Oh, wouldn't it be a game !" she exclaimed, " and I should so
like to do it, just to be revenged upon her; for if there's one
thing I can bear less than another, it is for persons to show their
ill-temper, as she has been doing to me for these last two days. And
I'm sure that nice, good-tempered creature of a Count would behave
so differently to me. It's quite evident, from all he says and does,
that he would go down on his knees to be allowed to gratify my
slightest wish ; and, after all his kindness, it really would seem quite
cruel to reject him. Besides," she said to herself, " he was just the
kind of man to take it seriously to heart, and perhaps commit some
rash act; for it was evident that he was quite smitten with her —
though she was sure she couldn't tell why; and if anything were to
occur to the poor man, she felt convinced she should end her days in
a madhouse."

While Miss Chutney was ruminating after this fashion, the postal
fishing-rod again made its appearance, bearing a small slip of paper,
on which were printed the well-known epistolary initials —

RVSVP.

At the sight of the request for a reply, the young lady's courage
failed her; and after some little reflection, she decided in her own
mind that the best course to adopt would be to put it to the
Count's own good sense as to how it would be possible for her to quit
the house with him, when she was kept in that room all day under
lock and key. This, she said, would not be a positive refusal to the
poor man, but it Avould be a nice gentle way of breaking to him
what she felt he would take as a very severe disappointment.

Accordingly, having written as much, she threw the line out of the
window, and sat down once more to reflect on what had occurred.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 189

An answer was quickly returned, entreating tbc young lady, in the
warmest possible language, to trust to the Frenchman's honour and
ingenuity, promising, that if she would hut faithfully follow his
directions, he would not only liberate her from her confinement ou
the morrow, but ensure her boundless happiness for ever after.

Miss Chutney's curiosity was piqued. However was it possible for
the Count to get her out of that room — much less the house — with
Wewitz's eyes continually watching both him and her : and then she
ran over several of the best means of escape among heroines similarly
situated. She thought of secret doors and sliding panels; but in that
unromantic linen-room she felt satisfied that charming pieces of
mechanism were hopeless : then she fixed her mind for a moment on
a rope ; but, on looking cautiously out of the window, she soon con-
vinced herself that even if she could get down one, it would be utterly
impossible for him to get one u\) such a height ; next she turned her
attention to tying Wewitz's clean sheets together, and descending
from the attic, as she had read of young ladies doing by means of
their scarves ; but, oh dear ! that would never suit her, and she would
much prefer a fire-escape, if there were such a thing handy. After
this, her thoughts took a higher flight, and she dwelt for a moment
on the delightful convenience of signet-rings, and of flinty-hearted
keepers mollified by pathetic appeals, together with pampered
menials, bribed by " purses of gold ;" but these were all equally hope-
less ; and as she saw no other mode of escape but through the door,
the windows, or the panels, and had exhausted every possible method
of making her exit by any such means, she felt satisfied that the
Count spoke without weighing the difficulties of the task that he
proposed. However, as it was certain that there was no chance of his
succeeding in such a project, why there could be no harm in just letting
the poor man have a try — besides, it would save her the unpleasant-
ness of telling him that she could not listen to his request.

Accordingly, after some little cogitation. Miss Chutney wrote in
pencil on the blank leaf of the Count's note —

" I will do as you direct;"

and hooking it on to the line, flung it from the window.

In less than five minutes there was another delivery by the pisca-
torial i)0st, bringing instructions for the young lady as to how she
was to proceed.

F(;r the present she was not to speak a word to a living creature,
but to feign sulkiness with everybody, and return no answer to any
question that might be put to her. Upon this the success of the
whole jtlan depended.

Moreover, it would aid the j)lot greatly if, when any one entered
her place of confinement, she ui)j)eared sitting with her face buried iu
her hands, and her apron thrown over her head, as if in deep grief.

What could it uU mean ?

She really began to feel half frightened. The instnietion.s were so
very odd — to jiretend to be in tiie Hulks, and to hide her face I

190 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

Where could be the good of that ? How could that get her out of
the room ? She had tried the sulks ever since yesterday evening, and
she was not a bit nearer the other side of the door than when she was
first locked up, she was sure. However, as that was all the Count
required her to do, and she felt just in the humour to carry out that
part of the instructions to the letter — for she had declared from the
very beginning that she wouldn't be the first to make advances, and
she wasn't going either — why, she didn't mind acting as the Count
desired, if it was only just to see what would come of it all.

Shortly after Miss Chutney had come to the above determination,
she heard the key turned in the door; and immediately, in compli-
ance with the Frenchman's directions, she threw her black silk apron
over her head, and buried her face in her hands.

Miss Wewitz, as she saw the girl's figure bent down, her head
almost resting on her knees, apparently overcome with sorrow, smiled
with satisfaction, regarding the assumed attitude as evidence of that
penitence which she was so anxious to bring about.

Finding that her presence was unheeded by her pupil, the school-
mistress gave one or two slight coughs, to apprise the young lady that
she was in the room, and fidgeted rather noisily about the " presses,"
pretending she had come up to put out some linen.

Miss Wewitz, however, was too gratified with what she was pleased
to call a great alteration for the better, to think of interfering with
the natural workings of Miss Chutney's better nature, as she termed
it ; and accordingly stole out of the room again, satisfied that every-
thing was going on so well, that when she again visited her pupil,
she would find the piece of dry bread had been eaten, and the young
lady dissolved in tears of shame and repentance.

Immediately the schoolmistress had quitted the apartment. Miss
Chutney burst into as loud a titter as she felt it safe to give vent to
under the circumstances, and again began wondering whatever would
come of it all.

Then, to relieve her tedium and appease her hunger, came another
packet from the Count, filled with affection and " goodies," in the
shape of a slice of a German sausage, a yjeiif j)ain, and a small dab of
mortar-like Pdte de Guimauve, accompanied by a tender epistle, in-
forming her that all was progressing most favourably ; that he and his
friends had come to terms with Miss Wewitz, and had consented to take
£20 as a small compensation for the inconvenience they would be put
to in leaving, and that they intended to quit the establishment early
the next morning : concluding by entreating her to be discreet, and
carry out to the letter the instructions he had given her.

The Pdte de Guimauve — to which Miss Chutney was particularly
partial — was a fresh force brought to bear against the heart and
stomach of the susceptible young lady ; and as she devoured the
sugared words, and sucked the sweetmeat, she had a twofold reason
for thinking the Count the kindest and most polite person she had
ever known.

Still, the notion of leaving on the morrow was far from being

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 191

agreeable to her. She wished the Count had made it a day or two
later. And yet, how stupid she was ; there was not the least chance
of her being able to get out of the house — so, of course, it would be all
the same to her ; — aud, perhaps, after all, it would be better, as it would
put an end to a very silly transaction on her part : not that she
wished to break off her acquaintance with the Count, but the mis-
fortune was, she had not been formally introduced to him. And
people did make such a fuss if a girl even looked at a stranger. On
that account alone she knew she never could be hapi)y with him.

At this juncture, the key again sounded in the door, and again
Miss Chutney hastily threw her apron over her head, and hid her iace
in her hands.

This time, the ^-isitor was Mrs. Wewitz ; for the old lady, hearing
that the dry bread still remained untouched, had grown alarmed at
the fancied stubbornness of the girl, and had come to see whether
she could not prevail upon her to comply with her daughter's
injunctions.

But Mrs. Wewitz had what is called an unfortunate way with her,
and although, as usual, she did everything for the best, she unluckily
dwelt so long and so forcibly on the coming of Miss Chutney's
guardian, that the girl grew more sulky than ever, and maintained
a solemn silence, notwithstanding the old lady's entreaties and threats;
so that, on her quitting the room, Miss Chutney, who before had felt
inclined to waver in the course she was pursuing with the French-
man, was now most anxious to embrace any opportunity that pre-
sented itself of avoiding an interview, wliich, as the time drew near,
she got positively to dread.

Thus matters progressed until dusk, and then came a letter from
the Count, informing her that on her retiring to rest that night, she
would find secreted between the mattresses of her bed the garb of a
Sister of Charity — (it would become her admirably, he said) — and
requesting that she would favour him with her own clothes in ex-
change for the others. He would be in the playground after dark,
and construe the extinguishing of her candle as a signal that she was
about to drop them from her window, when he would place himself
immediately below the balcony ready to receive them.

"Dear! dear!" exclaimed the anxious Miss Chutney, "how myste-
rious he is. What ever is he going to do! If it wasn't for the dress
of the Sister of Charity, I'm sure 1 should never consent to ilo what
he asks me ; but everybody tells me I look well in black, and I do
think the costume of those dear good creatures is so interesting, and,
what's more, so very becoming to persons of a dark c(jniplcxi<)ii.

Then she thought it would be a good bit of fun, and how tiie other
girls in her class would laugh over it when they came to hear of it;
besides, she assured herself nobody could kill her for doing it: and
she seemed to derive no little consolation from the assurance, liut
why was slic dressed up in such an odd way I that was what kIic
wanted to know, and though Miss Chutney amused herself by framing

182 1851; OR, the adventures of

many reasons for the masquerading, none, upon reflection, seemed suffi-
cient to account for the strange proposal.

The remainder of the evening she passed in considerable suspense,
anxious for the arrival of Miss Wewitz to conduct her to her bed-
room— for she was longing to make her first appearance as a Sister of
Charity ; and to while away the time, she kept turning back her
hair, and making a cap of a pocket-handkerchief, by way of trying
how her new costume would suit her.

Nor did Miss Chutney utter one word to Miss Wewitz when that
lady unlocked the door, previous to escorting her to her bedchamber ;
for the girl had now made up her mind to quit the house, if possible,
before the coming of her guardian, and was desirous of strictly ful-
filling the instructions of the Count.

The schoolmistress, who was growing alarmed at what appeared to
her the extraordinary firmness of the young lady, but neverthe-
less, too proud to think for one moment of giving way to her, as
she descended the stairs did not forget to tell Miss Chutney that,
on the morrow, her guardian would take her under his care.

On being left alone, the first act of Miss Chutney was to lock the
door, and look between the mattresses for the promised dress, and, to
her great delight, there it was, rosary and all. She was not long in
exchanging her own for that of the " chere sceur,''' and as she put on
each fresh portion of the costume, she stood for several minutes
before the cheval glass, examining the effect of it, and laughing to
herself at the novel appearance it gave her ; and when she had finally
aiTanged the cap and veil, she placed the candle on the ground, the
better to see herself from head to foot, remaining no little time
in front of the glass, now kneeling down and crossing her hands upon
her bosom, and now telling her beads, with upturned eyes, with all
the affectation of excessive devotion.

Suddenly, as she heard the rain- drops pattering like shot against
the window-panes, she thought of the poor Count, whom she was
keeping out in the wet all the while she was admiring herself;
so, putting the extinguisher hastily on the candle, she seized the
clothes she had recently discarded, and making them into a bundle,
she opened the window as noiselessly as possible, and dropped them
into his arms.

She had no sooner closed the sash than she began to look with
considerable trepidation on what she had done, and proceeded to
divest herself of the disguise, lest Miss Wewitz should return and
discover all. Nor was it until she began to take off" the clothes she
had so imprudently received in exchange for her own, that she thought
to inquire what she was to do with them on the morrow. To be
seen by any one but the Count in them, would be to " let out" the
whole affair. " What a great big silly she was !"

The exclamation had barely escaped her lips, when her fingers ran
against the sharp point of a pin inside the bosom of the dress, and
she discovered fastened there a three-cornered note. This was some

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 193

little relief to her; but in tlie dark, as she was, how was it possible
for her to kuow what was in it? It was just like her thoughtlessness
— why didn't she examine the dress well before putting it on ? — she
might have known the Count, after all the consideration he had
shown, would never have dreamt of leaving her in such a predica-
ment. And thus she went on talking to herself — reflecting and
imagining the future — now regretting her imprudence, and now view-
ing the coming adventure as a " good bit of fun" — then glorying
in the discomfiture of the schoolmistress when her flight was found
out — and then thinking over all the Count's kindnesses to her, and
assuring herself of his extreme goodness, until sleep put an end to
her reveries.

]94 1851; OR, the adventures of

CHAPTEE XX.

" Luok, wbar i' tli' niiok o' j'onder tent

Yon crew are slyly stnugglin'.

I warrant ye now tbar gang are bent

To tek fwoak in by jugglin';
Some cut purse dow-for-nougbt, nae doubt,

Tbat deevilments liev skill in,

An' some'at com' weel leaden out

May gang widout a sbilliu'."

Rosley Fair, by J. Slagg,

The intimate friend and bosom companion of M. le Comte de Sans-
cbemise was Adolphe Sheek, Peinteur et Fhilosophe, and a recent
addition to the small French colony that had located itself in the best
bed-room of Parthenon House,

Adolphe was, by profession, an artist in hair — ingeniously forming
weeping willows out of auburn tresses, and baskets of flowers out of
chesnut, or, indeed, any other kind of locks. His hairy nosegays,
he boasted, were the admiration of all who had seen them; and his
flaxen roses and raven lilies he prided himself upon being the perfec-
tion of imitative art. Still, the hairy art was merely an imitative
one, and the talented Sheek had a soul for nobler things. He had
occasionally soared as high as a fancy composition in hair, and had
executed an elaborate hairy marine piece, displaying a hairy sea and
a hairy ship in the distance, with a hairy cottage, thatched with hair,
in the foreground, and a small hairy pond in front of it, with two
hairy ducks swimming among a thicket of hairy weeds.

But, alas ! there was no encouragement for genius in hair, so the
magnanimous Adolphe had determined — in an artistical point of view
at least — to cut his hair, and devote himself to what he was pleased
to call the sister art. This consisted in taking portraits in black
paper by means of the "machine" — and adding the additional attrac-
tion of gold hair and whiskers, for a small exti'a charge. But Sheek,
in his heart, despised the means of living that prudence compelled him
to adopt — though he occasionally indulged in a full, or three-quarter
face, executed in crayon, water colours, or oil, whenever he was for-
tunate enough to obtain a sitter; and though he had already produced
several highly natural " larder pieces," in the shape of quartern loaves,
gammons of bacon, pots of porter, and wedges of double Glo'ster,
each having the same small mouse nibbling at the corner; and
though his moonlight pieces had been highly admired, especially the
reflection of the moon on the water, and the light in the cottage-
window beside the water-mill, still Sheek longed to signalize himself
in higher branches of the pictorial art, and was now devoting his
leisure to the completion of an historic production, that he hoped
might link his name with the great artists of the age.

At the time we write of, M. Adolphe was busily engaged upon au

MR. AND MRS. CURSTi' SANDBOYS. 195

elaborate allegory, commemorative of the cosmopolitan character of
the Great Exhibition.

In this great work of high art, Britannia, who is attended by the
four quarters of the globe, has thrown one of her boxing-gloves to the
ground, in token that she invites all nations to a friendly trial of skill ;
while France, in the garb of a Sister of Charity, is, in the same
friendly spirit, pointing with one hand to the retreat of the English
from the field of Waterloo, and, with the other, extracting the thorn
from the foot of the British Lion.

For the true perfecting of this grand, and, according to !M. Sheck's
friend, national work of art, the dress of the Charitable Sister had
been hired expressly from a masquerade warehouse, and the lay
figure, which the talented Adolphe used to guide him in the arrange-
ment of the drapery for his half-lengths, appropriately costumed for
the occasion. It was this dress that the Count had prevailed upon
his friend Adolphe to permit him to forward to ^Miss Chutney, as a
means of facilitating her escape the following day, on the understand-
ing that the painter should share with him any property that the girl
might be entitled to on her marriage.

At daybreak on the morning appointed for the Frenchmen's de-
parture from Parthenon House, the Comte de Sanschcniise and his
friend, Adolphe Sheek, were preparing for the perilous adventure
they were about to enter upon. Having assured themselves no one
was yet stirring in the house, they proceeded to dress the lay figure
of the artist i'^ the apparel of Miss Chutney ; and, the toilet of the
dummy bein;^ xmished, the two Frenchmen crept stealthily up the
Btairs without their shoes, carrying the wooden model between
them.

On reaching the linen room, they bent the legs of the huge Dutch
doll in such a manner, that it could be made to sit upon the edge of
the inverted clothes-basket; then, depressing the back, they threw
Miss Chutney's black silk apron over the face of the model, and,
raising the arms, forced down the head until the face appeared to be
buried in the hands.

This done, they retired a few paces to observe the effect, and when
tlicy perceived how closely it resembled the description the young
lady had given of the attitude she had adopted, in compliance with
the Count's request, it was as much as the pair of them could do to
repress their laughter. Then, to assure themselves that the dcccptinii
■was as perfect as possible, they retired from the room, and, closing
the door gently after them, retreated a few paces along the passage,
after which they returned, and entered the room suddfidy, so as to
judge what eflcct the figure would be likely to produce upuu a stranger,
on first coming into the apartment. ^ _ ^

In suppressed whispers they both pronounced it to be " Soopairb !
and in the ardour of their admiration proceeded to embrace one
anotlicr.

They then noiselessly descended the stairs, and, returning to
their rooms, began to arrange their toilet agaiust the coming

P

1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

of Miss Chutney — the Count being engaged in the gentlemanly
operation of taking his hair out of paper, wliile M. Sheek was busy
removing the cabbage-leaves, and brushing the lime-powder from his
whiskers, in which elegant occupations we will for the present leave
them.

Miss Chutney was awake long before daylight, anxious to learn the
contents of the note, and growing more and more timid as the time
for her departure drew near. Even before there was sufficient light
whereby to decipher the characters in the letter, she was standing by
the window with the note in her hand, poring over each word in the
dusk, and so making out the wishes of the Count, as it were, piece-
meal. In this manner she found out that, before Miss Wewitz was
stirring, she was to descend to the Frenchmen's apartment in the dis-
guise of the Sister of Charity, when she would be apprised of all the
arrangements that had been made for her safety.

It was impossible now to retract — with her guardian coming in
a few hours. It would be a nice story for Miss Wewitz to tell him —
and a very pretty tale she would be sure to make out of it. So, come
what might, she had made up her mind to throw herself on the
Count's protection. Accordingly, she proceeded to dress herself in the
disguise the Count had provided for her, her hand trembling the
while so violently, that she could scarcely fasten the clothes; and
though she strove to make as little noise as possible, there was not a
brush nor a glass she touched without knocking it against some
neighbouring thing, and then was nearly ready to faint at the noise.

At last, however, her toilet was completed, and she opened the
door as gently as possible on her way to the Count. As the handle
still remained in her hand, she heard, to her great horror, the voice of
Miss Wewitz calling to her from her bedroom — for the schoolmistress,
knowing that it was the day for the Frenchmen's departure, and expect-
ing that there wovdd be a scene of some kind or other before she got
them clear out of the house, had herself been awake since daylight ;
and having caught repeated sounds of glasses jingling, and other
noises, proceeding from Miss Chutney's room, had felt satisfied that
all was not right, and had been sitting up in her bed for some little
time, listening attentively to what was going on, when she was con-
\-inced she heard the door of that young lady's bedroom opened.

Miss Chutney no sooner heard the voice, than she felt it was no
time for her to hesitate ; so, descending the stairs as rajndly as she
could, she hurried to the Count, begging of him to hide her, for Miss
Wewitz was following her.

The Count did not take long to tell the terrified girl how well he
had arranged matters in the linen-room, and that she need be under no
fear of detection if she Avould but do as he requested her ; and then
he explained that he intended her to take the place of the lay figure
of his talented friend, Adolphe, and to have her removed immediately
from the house in that character. All she had to do was, to keep
every limb perfectly rigid, and not to move a muscle of her body on
any account.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 197

The schoolmistress, who now grew considerably alarmed for the
safety of the wayward girl, hastily threw on her dressing-gown, and
hurried as quickly as possible to the linen-room. To confess the
truth, however, she had little hope of finding her in that place ; and
as she mounted the stairs, she panted with trepidation, lost she should
discover that the young lady had sought protection from that wretch
of a Frenchman.

It would be impossible to picture !Miss Wewitz's astonishment
and joy at perceiving, on opening the linen-room door, the figure of the
girl, bent down in the same attitude of penitence and shame as she
had observed her in on the preceding day ; she felt like a female Atlas,
with the weight of the world suddenly taken off her shoulders. Then,
noticing that the despised crust of dry bread was no h)ugcr there, (the
fact was, M. Adolphe Sheek had eaten it that morning, with the view
of keeping the wind off' his stomach,) Miss Wewitz threw up her
hands with delight, to think all was progressing so favourably, and
again congratulated herself that, if the girl was only left to the work-
ings of her better nature, she would have her at her feet before
dinner- time.

With this consolatory reflection the schoolmistress closed the door,
and having locked it securely, placed the key in her pocket, exclaiming
to herself as she did so, " Thank goodness, my lady, you're all safe !"
]\Iiss Wewitz descended the stairs with a much lighter step than she
had mounted them a few moments before, comforting herself \vith tlie
reflection, that precisely the same change was taking jilace in Miss
Chutney as had been wrought in her own nature, on the memorable
occasion of her refusing to eat that delicious boiled rice-pudding.

On reaching her bedroom, however, she thought, as she overheard
the Frenchmen on the move, that it would be advisable just to "pop
down," and assure herself that all was right; "for shecould not rest ea.sy,"
she said, " until she had seen the last lock of their back hair." Not-
withstanding she felt satisfied she had got her parlour boarder safe
under lock and key, there was no telling what tricks the creatures
might be at — they were such a set !"

Accordingly, having adjusted her cap and patted dt)wn her front
hair, she tripi)ed down the stairs with one of her most amiable .smiles
on her countenance, and putting her head in at the door, said in her
softest tone, and in a mixture of Engli.sh and French, " 1 am ready to
pay you voire argent, Monsieur le Comte, whenever you please." (Miss
Wewitz was to be numbered among the many ladies who understand
the language perfectly, but cannot sjjcak it.)

The Count and M. Adolphe had just finished "])Osing" Miss Clmt-
ney in the same attitude as the model, and had retired u few paces
back to admire her, as she stood with lier hands crossed on her liosouj.
and her head bent down, as if at her devotions, and were congm-
tulatiug one another on the perfect resemblance the young lady bore
to the " lay" sister, wlien the head of the Hchooimistre.sa v/aa discovered
peeping round tlic door.

Mi.ss Chutney no sooner heard the voice of Miss Wewitz, than she

198 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

felt all the rigidity she had been throwing into her limbs suddenly
leave her, and her legs become as limp and bendy as sugar-sticks in
hot weather ; and it was merely the conviction that they would all be
ruined if she moved a joint, that sustained her in her statuesque
position.

The Count ran to the door, and bowing in the face of the school-
mistress, so as to obstruct her view, thanked her for her polite infor-
mation, and excused himself for shutting her out, by saying that some
of his friends were not yet dressed.

Immediately the schoolmistress had left, Miss Chutney, who began
to feel in no way equal to the task she had undertaken, entreated of
the Count to allow her to return to the linen-room. But this, of
course, was a proposition that the Frenchman, now that he had
obtidned possession of the girl, felt in no way inclined to listen to;
so, by dint of compliments on her charming appearance in her new
character, and protestations of the most fervent devotion, and assur-
ances of the unceasing happiness that awaited her in Paris, he at
length succeeded in calming the young lady's perturbation.

Miss Chutney, however, had not much time to think over the con-
sequences of the step she was about to take, for scarcely had the
Count finished his exhortation and eulogium, when the servant an-
nounced that the cab was at the door, and the men were ready to carry
down the luggage.

It was then arranged that Adolphe should escort the rest of the
Frenchmen out of the house as soon as possible, so that the girl might
not be flurried by the presence of so many. And as soon as this
part of the operations had been executed, the Count, who had remained
continually by the side of the wavering girl, exhorting her to have
"courage" but for a few moments longer, quitted her for a few
minutes, in order to come to a settlement with Miss Wewitz.

He had scarcely left the room when the cabman and his companion,
in obedience to the instructions of M, Adolphe Sheek, stepped up
from the hall to remove the lay figure, with the greatest possible care,
to the cab.

On entering the apartment, the men were mightily taken with the
figure of the Sister of Charity, and declared to one another that
if they hadn't been given to understand it was an artist's model, they
should have taken it for a living woman.

For some little time they amused themselves by merely contem-
plating the model, and wondering what character it could be intended
to represent. The sombreness and peculiarity of the costume seemed
to take their fancy vastly. In a few minutes, as the novelty of the
impression began to wear away, they commenced handling the
rosary, lifting up the white apron, and, ultimately, the black crape
veil.

This was a severe trial for the nerves of Miss Chutney ; but with
her teeth firmly set, and holding her breath, she remained with her
eyes upturned, and with every ieature and limb as rigid as if they
were petrified.

MR. AND MRS. CUESTY SANDBOYS. 199

The men grew more pleased than ever with the life-like appear-
ance of the figure, and could not keep from laughing at the apparent
intensity of the model's devotion. Presently, the cab-driver drew the
short clay pipe from under the band of his hat, and saying to his
companion, " I say, Jem, here's a lark !" thrust the end of it into the
corner of jjoor Miss Chutney 's mouth.

The girl, though ready to shriek with horror and faint with dis-
gust, still, by a violent effort, held the " dodecn" between her lips.
The Count, she said to herself, would be sure to return directly,
and then she would be free from all further insult and per-
secution.

The friend of the cab-driver, determined not to be outdone by his
companion, and discovering on the hob a lump of the charcoal that
the Frenchmen had used to heat their bachelor's kettle, seized it, and,
approaching the alarmed Miss Chutney, began tracing on her upper
lip a huge pair of black mustachios.

This drollery tickled the driver of the cab to such a degree, that,
spurred on by the comical appearance of the " model," he ran to the
grate, and having provided himself with another piece of the dingy
material, began, in his turn, to adorn the lady's checks with au
equally enormous pair of whiskers.

The wretched Miss Clmtney felt every minute that she mnst give
■way under the accumulated insults she was enduring, and had it not
been for her reliance on the Count's immediate return, she would have
startled her tormentors by taking to her heels ; but every minute she
consoled and sustained herself with the assurance, that the next mo-
ment would bring her protector to her relief. " Oh I" she thought to
herself, as she felt the cabman charcoaling her eyebrows, " if I had
only known half I should have to go through, I'm sure I should never
have dreamt of making such a silly of myself."

The embellishment of the " model's" countenance being finished,
the cabman and his " buck" retired a few paces to examine the effect
of their handiwork, and burst into a suppressed fit of laughter at the
extreme incongruity of the lady's a])pearance — and certainly the
extraordinary hirsute character of ]SIiss Chutney's countenance at that
moment, embellished, as it was, Avitli the most extravagant hairy
appendages, was sufficient to burst the waistcoat-strings of any gen-
tleman gifted with the slightest sense of the ridiculous.

The cabman and his companion were roused from their mirth by
the sound of footsteps on the stairs. In their fear of discovery, it
was the work of a moment for the driver to pull his wnsh-Icathcr
from his pocket, and endeavour, by rubbing at Miss Chutney's face, to
remove the black marks from it. This, however, liad the effect of
distributing the charcoal evenly over the whole of the young lady'.s
countenance, so that the operation served merely to transfurui her into
a negress.

But there was no time for the men to resort to more effectual means
of cleaning the face of tlie model, so, letting fall tlie bhiek crape, they
began to prepare for the removal of tlic " figure" down stairs ; and

200 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

then Miss Chutney, to her indescribable horror, heard the men propose
that one should take the "old gal" by the head, and the other by the
feet. A dispute, however, arose as to the practicability of that mea-
sure, owing to the peculiar construction of the staircase, Avhereupon it
was suggested by the driver, that the best way perhaps, after all,
would be to have up the rope from the foot of the cab, and lower the
tiling down out of the window; and no sooner was this course agreed
upon, than the men retired together for the cord with which to put it
into execution.

Immediately the di'iver and his companion had quitted the apart-
ment, the terrified Chutney lifted up the long black robe of the Sister of
Charity, and scampered off as fast as her legs, under the circumstances,
could carry her. She had just reached the door, when the Count,
who was hurrying back to her with all possible speed, ran bump
against her, and, seizing her by the arm, exclaimed in as good English
as he was master of —

" Mon petit chou! vot go you to do? Beste tranquille, je t'en
prie ! In von minoot you sail be mine for nevare !"

"Oh, if I could tell you all !" she cried, falling into his arms ; " take
me away !" she whispered — " take me away ! if you would not have
me die !"

" Silence ! silence, mon ange ! von leetel minoot more, and you
sail be mine for nevare !" he said in her ear, as he lifted her in his
arms, and proceeded to carry her down the stairs.

In the passage, to the great discomfort of himself and the alarm of
the girl, stood Miss Wewitz beside the door, determined to see the
Frenchmen safe off the premises. Placing the girl carefully in the
corner of the hall, with her face turned towards the wall, he whispered
in her ear, " Courage! courage! ma souris;" and then requested to
speak a word with the schoolmistress in the music-room, so that he
might there occupy her with some little matter, while he returned and
placed the trembling girl in the cab.

The men no sooner perceived that the figure was in the passage,
than they began arranging which was the best place to stow it in the
cab; whereupon the half-dead Chutney was doomed once more to
hear the driver and his companion discuss the most effectual plan of
removing her from the premises.

The cabman was for laying her at full length on the roof of his
vehicle, and lashing her down with the cord, so that, as he said, " there
wouldn't be no chance of the thing's rolling off."

The " buck," however, hinted that, in going over the stones, "some
of her j'ints might get broke, so he was for tying her up on the
board behind the cab ; but this proposal was quickly overruled by the
cabman, who observed that " that there would never do, for them boys
would be sartin to get pelting the thing with stones and mud on the
road, and a pretty pickle it would be in by the time they got to town.
No! no! he was for shoving the old gal right across the foot-board;
she could lay there very heasy under their feet; and where was the
hodds, if so be as her legs did stick out a little bit ; there wouldn't

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 201

be no danger of tlieir getting broke off, with tliem right under
his hi."

The last proposition being considered quite unobjectionable by the
cabman's companion, Miss Chutney heard the heavy boots of the men
moving across the passage towards the corner in which she stood.
She made up her mind to give a good shriek immediately the fellows
laid hands upon her again, and, indeed, had just got her n\outh wide
open, ready to utter one of her most piercing, when, to her unbounded
delight, she caught the voice of the Count de Sanschemise at the end
of the passage, shouting —

" Ne la touchez 2)as I Toosh it not ! toosh it not !"

Hurrying towards the girl, the Frenchman seized her in his arms
and can-ied her to the cab; — there he pretended to adjust the joints
of the imaginary figure, much to the delight of the cabmen, so that
it might be made to assume a sitting posture, and occupy the cushion
beside him in the interior of the vehicle.

He had but barely completed the pretended adjustment, when IMiss
Wewitz emerged from the nmsic-room, bearing the receipt in quit-
tance of all claims upon the Count de Sanschemise, which that gentle-
man, as a means of keeping her out of the way for a few minutes,
had requested her to write for him.

The Count hastened back to the schoolmistress, thanking her for
her kindness, raised his Spanish hat from his head, and then, making
her a profound bow, he saluted her with the greatest possible respect,
and jumped into the cab, with his leathern reticule of a portmanteau
in his hand.

In another minute the vehicle was whirling across Wimbledon
Common; the driver and his companion turning round on the "box,"
as they dashed along, to make signs to the servants, who still loitered
about the gate, indicative of the novel character of their fare, and
folding their hands across their bosom, in imitation of the attitude of
the fancied model within.

202 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

CHAPTER XXI.

" Them that's fasb'd wi' iiae bairns iver happy mun be,
For we've yen, and she's maister o' baith thee and me.

" I can't for the life o' me get lier to •work,
■Nor aw the lang Sunday to go near a kirk;
Nor frae week en' to week en' a chapter to read,
For the Bible ligs stoury abuin the duir-head.

" She yence cud ha'e crammel'd and writ her awn neame,
And Sunday and warday was teydey at heame:
Now to see her whol'd stockin's, her brat, and her gown.
She's a shem and a byzen to all the heale town.

" O wad she be guided, and stick to her wheel.

There's nane kens how fain I wad see her dui weel."

" O Wife,'^ hy Anderson,

The house once cleared of the Frenchmen, Miss Wewitz's first act
was to throw up all the -windows of the best bed-room, amid an
infinity of lamentations as to the state of her property in that apart-
ment—and endless doubts as to the possibility of ever getting the
smell of that horrid tobacco-smoke out of the curtains, or restoring
the place to its wonted cleanliness and sweetness.

This done, she mounted the stairs towards the linen-room, congra-
tulating herself on having got rid of the fellows without something
dreadful occurring between them and Chutney, the bare thoughts of
■which had prevented her having a wink of sleep for the last two
nights.

On entering the linen-room, there sat the figure in the same
dejected attitude as that in which Miss Wewitz had found it in the
morning. The schoolmistress began to grow alarmed at what she
imagined to be the extreme stubbornness of the girl ; and addressing
the figure in her most impressive manner, said —

" I hope and trust, Miss, you have by this time been awakened to a
aense of the impropriety of your conduct."

Miss Wewitz paused a moment or two for a reply, and obtaining
no answer, she continued, raising her voice —

" I did hope, Miss Chutney, I repeat, that you had become sensible
of the shameful manner in which you have been behaving for the last
two days."

Here she paused again.

" But," she continued, finding no notice taken of her observation
on the subject of Miss Chutney's penitence, " from your silence I am
led to believe that you still require some few hours more self-com-
munion, to bring you to a perfect consciousness of the wickedness of
your ways."

Miss Wewitz made another pause in her discourse, believing that

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 203

the girl's sulkiness could not possibly hold out much longer; and then
proceeded to inform her, that, in consideration of her attention to her
French last " half," if she chose to ask her pardou for all she had done,
she might leave her place of confinement, and go down stairs imme-
diately.

Still, to Miss "Wewitz's horror at what she could not but consider
as an instance of stubbornness unparalleled in the whole annals of
scholastic misdemeanours, not a syllable was spoken by way of reply
to her liberal offer.

" What am I to think of you 1" she exclaimed, in the depth of her
indignation. " Are you aware what will become of you, if you per-
sist in your present line of conduct 1" (Here she stopped once more.)
" Are you aware. Miss," she cried, in a loud voice, as she grew angry
at the continued inattention to all she said — " that your behaviour is
most insulting to those whom it is your duty to respect ? In all my
long experience, I never knew such wicked, wicked sulkiness on the
part of any of my pupils before. Well, Miss," she added, as she
bowed sarcastically to the lay figure, " all I have to say is, that as it
is not my place to play the suppliant to you, I must leave you until
such time as your guardian arrives, and then we shall see, perhaps,
whether his authority can make any impression on your stubborn
nature."

W^ith this dignified remonstrance, Miss Wewitz turned round to
leave the room ; and as she grasped the handle of tlie door, she
thought she would try one more appeal.

" iSTow, come, there's a good thing," she said, appealing tenderly to
the figure, " do give over your sulks, and come down stairs with me,
like a dear."

But finding that neither remonstrances, upbraldlngs, nor entreaties
produced the least effect upon the object of her discourse, she turned
haughtily upon her heel and slammed the door after her, mentally
observing, as she descended the stairs, that she wouldn't take it upon
herself to say what would be the end of that wicked, obstinate
thing.

It was not long after Miss Wewitz's visit to the linen-room that a
loud ring at the gate-bell, making it sound half across the Common,
announced the arrival of Miss Chutncy's guardian.

Miss Wewitz received the gentleman with great joy, for she was
growing quite alarmed at the peculiar and unaccountabk^ conduct of
the young lady, and wished to consult her " friend" as to the best
means of dealing with her.

The schoolmistress was not long in detailing to her visitor all the
occurrences of the last two days, and concluded by informing him that
the young lady had partaken of no nourishment but a small \m'V(i of
dry bread during the entire forty-eight hours ; and that she would
really take it as a personal obligation if he would exert his influence
in bringing her to a right sense of her con<luct.

The guardian, who was a shipping agent in a "large way." and
bad a habit of talking of his 8hii>s on every possible o]iportunity, in

i804 1851; or, the adventures of

Buch a manner, that, christened as they mostly were after private and
public individuals, it was often difficult to understand whether he was
alluding to a thing of flesh and blood, or merely wood and iron.

" You astonish me, my dear madam," he said, in as pompous a tone
as possible — for the gentleman was particularly anxious at all times
to produce an impression upon strangers — " Miss Chutney 's conduct
reminds me forcibly of our ' Maria of North Shields.' "

" Indeed !" cried Miss Wewitz, judging from the name that the
gentleman alluded to some young lady-friend of his resident in that
quarter of the kingdom, and smiling blandly at the bare idea of the
chance of adding the said Maria to the list of her parlour-boarders.

" Yes," returned the shipping-agent ; " our ' Maria' was as pretty
a little thing as ever you set eyes on; but, you see, she was so queer
about the head, we couldn't get her to steer the right course any
Low."

" Bless me !" exclaimed the astonished Miss WcAvitz, " you don't
say so."

" Yes," continued the shipping-agent, leaning back in the easy-
chair, and swinging his seals round and round ; '•' but that's a very
common fault. Why, there was our ' Eliza,' that's being overhauled
now, she was so cranky, that I'm sure she wanted ballast enough for
six ; but then, you see, she was so long in the back, that she was
always a-missing her stays."

" Dear me ! — poor thing ! she found them a great support to her, I
dare say," observed the ingenuous Miss Wewitz, fancying that the
said Eliza was none other than a daughter of her visitor, and a young
lady suffering under weakness of the spine.

" But gentlemen in my way of business," continued the shipbroker,
" always expect these kind of casualties. Now, only this last season,
there was my ' Saucy Jane,' that was coming from Eussia with as
much tallow and hides as she could carry, when, hang me, if she didn't
go ashore at Portsmouth; and the captain didn't do his duty to
her, and so she was abandoned there."

" Lord bless my heart, how shocking !" exclaimed the moral Miss
Wewitz ; " but those seaport towns are dreadful places for all young
persons; and maybe, sir, there was not that strict attention paid to
her in her early days, that is so necessary to future well-being."

" Oh, yes ; but my Saucy Jane, you see, had every attention paid
to her that was requisite," responded the pompous shipping agent.
*' She was splendidly victualled, and, what was more, she had her full
complement of hands."

" Her full complement of hands !" echoed the astounded school-
mistress. I suppose he must mean that she wasn't deformed ; " but
maybe your poor Jane, sir, went astray through temptation; for, you
know, it is said we cannot serve two masters."

"Not serve two masters!" exclaimed the man of ships; "why,
I've several masters, and I know many that would jump to sei"V'e
them. But my time's precious; so if you'll just let me step up to

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 205

tills young lady, I'll just give her a bit of a talking to, and see Avliat
can be done with her."

Miss Wewitz, who was too glad to put an end to a conversation
that was far from interesting to her, owing to the apparent oddity of
the characters to which it referred, rose from her chair, and request-
ing the gentleman to follow her, proceeded to conduct him up the
stairs to the linen- room.

The schoolmistress held back the door as she pointed to the figure
of the young lady, with her face still buried in her hands, and
whispered in the ear of the gentleman, " that she had been in the
same attitude a good part of the pi-evious day, and the whole of that
morning."

The shipping agent advanced pompously into the room, and, as he
stood in the centre of the small apartment, he addressed himself to
the figure, saying —

" I have been requested to speak to you, in the name of my old
friend, your father, on the perverseness of your late conduct to your
preceptress. Miss Wewitz, and I have now to command you, in the
name of your parents, to leave your present position, and follow mc
and your schoolmistress down stairs."

To the ineffable astonishment of the guardian, not a limb of the
form before him moved.

"Do you hear, miss!" he exclaimed, stamping his foot on the
boards, as if to give additional force and authority to his commands, —
" do you hear me, I say ! Get up this minute, when I command
jou !"

The semi-nautical gentleman was so unused to this utter disregard
of his orders, that when he saw not the least effort made to stir, even
at the end of his second appeal, he stood, as it were, dumbfoundercd
for a moment, at the determination of the fancied school-girl.

Then he shouted sharply, and in a tone of extreme anger, " Miss
Chutney, I say ! — Miss Chutney ! — do you mean to rise from your
present position, or do you wish me to degrade you so far as to force
you to do so 1"

Still no movement was made; whereupon the impatient guardian,
unable to brook the slight any longer, seized the figure roughly by
the arm, and began shaking it violently.

In the act of so doing, the hands were forced down, and the black
silk apron fell from before the face, revealing the wooden haturcs of
the artist's model.

The schoolmistress no sooner discovered the trick that had been
played, and thought of the pains she had taken to exj)ose her misfor-
tune to the young lady's guardian, than she uttered a piercing .sliriek,
and swooned into the arms of tlie shipping agent.

"D n it, madam!" cried the city gentleman, who liad l>ut little

belief in liysterics, fainting fits, or, indeed, any other of the feminine
arts of producing an impression, " this will never do;" and Kci/.iiig
the glass of water that had been originally placed there, with the

JJ06 1851 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

bread, for the imprisoned Chutney, he dashed the whole contents into
the lady's face.

Miss Wewitz started up suddenly, and shaking the water from her
hair, till the sprinkles flew about as from a twirling mop, she hurried
down the stairs, shrieking, in her shrillest voice, " She's gone ! she's
gone ! she's gone !"

In a minute the whole establishment were in the hall — staring in
mute astonishment at one another — and endeavouring to pacify the
frantic Wewitz.

No sooner did the schoolmistress set eyes upon her respected
mother, than she rushed madly to her, and told her that she had been
the ruin of her, and that if it hadn't been for her. Miss Chutney would
still have been in the house: this so affected the elder Wewitz,
that she began, in her turn, to tear her hair ; but, unfortunately, each
time she clasped her head, as if distracted, the front of her Avig Avas
seen to move gradually round, until the natural parting stood right
-over one ear, while tlie top-knot was seen projecting above the
other.

The schoolmistress, who, notwithstanding the intensity of her
agony, observed the eyes of the shipping agent fixed upon the wig of
her respected mother, ordered her parent to retire to her room imme-
diately, and then endeavoured to apologize as best she could, for the
disappearance of his ward, to the shipping agent.

That gentleman was not to be appeased by any such means, how-
ever, and left the house, vowing that he would commence an action
at law against her imm'^diately for damages, and publish the transac-
tion to the whole worlu.

What poor Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys, their son and daughter, had
been doing all this while, must be reserved for the next chapter.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 207

CHAPTER XXII.

" Anil is it tliee, my JoLby Lad —
And siifo returu'd fiae war?
Tliou'it dearer to t!iy mother's heart

Siu' tlioii hast been sae far.
But tell me aw that's liappen'd thee,

The neet is wearing fast ;
There's nought I like sae weel to hear,
As dangers that are past."

The Sailor Lad's liclurn.

We must now return to our i)oor lost muttons, " Mr. aud Mrs. Sand-
boys, their son and daughter."

The journey of Master Jobby to Wimbledon and back was suffi-
ciently long to try the patience of poor Mrs. Cursty. Though the
youth was tleet of foot, the " busses" on that road were unluckily on
the most amicable terms, and being unopposed, the " Ci::leuities"
drawled along at little better than hearse pace, as if they belonged to
the " Mors omnibus" species, and had no great incliuatiou to "' look
alive."

Mrs. Sandboys, after having been dragged by the authorities from
the presence of the magistrate, at the commencement of an oration,
in Avhich she was about to tell his Worship a " bit of her mind," and
torn in the outer office from the coat- tails of her beloved Cursty,
passed the time — when her paroxysm of conjugal sympathy had in a
measure subsided — by incjuiring of such of tlie officers as she could
seduce into conversation, what wretched fate awaited the ill-starred
Christopher, in the event of Jobby not arriving in time with the
expected witnesses to character. When the lady was informed, to her
indescribable horror, that the police van, under such circumstances,
would remove Mr. Sandboys that evening to the nearest pri.son,^ she
drew a vivid but melancholy picture in ideal black-lead upon ima-
ginary paper, of the partner of her bosom ushered across the flag-
stones, between files of giggling unsymiiathetic boys, to become
an inside passenger in that dismal-looking, nml berry-coloured 'bus,
which runs daily between the Police Offices :ind the Houses of Correc-
tion—" nothing all the way." And when Mrs. Cursty learnt, more-
over, in answer to her numerous (jucries as to the treatment ol the
inmates of the Metropolitan Prisons, that there was a si)ccial costume
and coifure set aside for such persons, and to which every one, ou
conviction, was made to conform, she commenced executing u scni-s
of mental cartoons in unsuljstantial crayons, portruymg lur lord and
master with his hair cropped as short as the plush ol u foolnnm h
brcc— ahem !— that is to say, gentle reader, trou-serictH, picturing
bim done up in pepper and salt, and looking like a rLprescntatimi m
Scotch granite of one of tiie very lowest of the " lower orders. 1 hen,
as the '.scenes of her visionary .liorama glided dreamily ulung, hho

208 1851 ; or, the adventures of

beheld the phantasm of the wretched man, whom she had taken for
better or worse, at one moment busily engaged in the arduous process
of mounting a spectral treadmill, or " everlasting staircase," and now
reduced to the not particularly honourable nor lively occupation of
picking phantom oakum — for as the authorities described the manners
and customs of prison life to Mi's. Cursty, there popped up imme-
diately before the eyes of the excited lady an air-drawn picture of
each discreditable scene, with a phantasmagoric Mr. Sandboys figuring
prominently in the foreground.

The long hand of the official clock moved on as slow and uncon-
cerned as a government clerk; but in the ej'es of the anxious Mrs.
Sandboys, it seemed to be spinning round like the index to a pieman's
gaming-dial ; Time, to her, appeared to have parted with his scythe
for a reaping machine, and to be mowing down the minutes as if they
were incipient bristles on a chin undergoing " a clean shave for a half-
penny." It wanted but a short time to the appointed hour for the
arrival of the dreaded van ; and Mrs. Sandboys, with the weeping
Elcy at her side, sat trembling in her Adelaides, and experiencing at
each fresh opening of the door the same breathless and " sinking"
sensation as is peculiar to steamboats on pitching deep down into the
trough of the sea. To her ineffable relief, however, the red-faced
Jobby at length darted into the office, carrying tlie reply from Par-
thenon House in his hand. The boy was unable to speak for the
speed he had made (for he believed the letter he bore would be suffi-
cient to gain his father's liberty), and stood panting — now wiping his
forehead, and now, to cool himself, tearing open the collar of his
shirt.

His mother, in her anxiety, liad not sufficient patience to wait till
the boy had breath to tell the issue of his journey, ])ut snatching the
letter from his hand, tore it eagerly open. She had, however, no sooner
run her eyes over its contents, than she uttered a faint cry, and fell back
against the wall. Jobby and Elcy Avere instantly at their mother's
side, endeavouring to comfort her, and seeking to know what fresh
catastrophe had befallen them; and when Jobby learnt that Mrs.
Wewitz had declined vouching for the respectability of his father, the
eff'ect of the news upon the lad, who had made certain that all was right,
was almost painful to contemplate. For a moment, he turned pale as
marble, and stood as if half incredulous of what he heard ; then the
blood crimsoned his face, and the tears filled his eyes, as he fell on
his mother's neck, and sobbed like a child with her. Elcy, however,
seemed to gain new courage from their combined distress, and as she
loosened the strings of her mother's bonnet, and entreated Jobby, in
a whisper, to remember where he Avas, telling him all the people were
looking at him, she suddenly recollected Mrs. Fokesell, who she
felt sure would Aviliingly come and speak for her father. As the
thought flashed across her mind, she turned hastily to the clock, and
then, bending over her mother, told her in a low voice to be of good
heart, for she still saw a way of obtaining h,er father's liberation.
Mrs. Sandboys no sooner caught the Avords, and learnt from Elcy the

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 209

course she meant to pursue, than she became as confident as the girl
of success, and bidding her take a cab, she toUl her that there niiglit
be yet time, if she departed with all possible speed.

Elcy had forestalled her mother's injunctions, and before ^Mrs.
Sandboys had finished what she had to say on the subject, had quitted
the office, and was hastening along on her way to Craven-street.
Winged by her anxiety, she was but a few minutes in reaching their
former residence; but there, alas! a new disappointment awaited her.
The partner of the hand and lodging-house of ^Mrs. Fokesell had
suddenly returned from a long voyage, and after having passed a week
in a state of almost helpless intoxication, and been deprived of Ida
boots on the previous day by his superior moiety, with a view to pre-
vent the possibility of his leaving the premises for more drink, and so
reducing him to a state of suthcient sobriety to accompany her to tho
Great Exhibition, the sailor and his wife had left the house early that
morning for the World's Show, intent upon making a good long
day of it.

The maid of all work — and something more— had just been called
away from the week's washing, in which she was busily engaged, to
brush the highlows of the Buron de Boltzoft', who occupied the draw-
ing-rooms, and had been obliged to throw them aside to give the
newsboy the Times — which she was in the act of doing when Major
Oldschool, in the parlours, desired her to bring up the tea-things; and
no sooner had she filled the urn, than Mrs. Quinine, in the second
floor, " touched her bell" to knov/ whether she had got the hare d<jwn
yet for her dinner; and while the maid was making up her fire for
roasting it, down po])ped the medical student from the back attics
Avith a request that she would just run up the street and get him
half-an-ounce of " bird's-eye," for which she was about to start when
Elcy's double-knock " came to the door."

The girl, who had hurried up to answer the summons, and still held
the knob of the street-door in her dirty hand covered with her ajiron,
had no sooner informed the young lady of the absence of Mrs.
Fokesell, than Elcy, who had borne up bravely against the j>reviou3
misfortunes, suddenly lost all hope and courage, so that when sho
heard that there was no proljability of the landlady returning homo
till late that evening, she could control lier feelings no longer, and
the ])ent-up tears burst from her eyes with double angnisli.

Tlie maid, who had always been partial to Miss Elcy, and had talaMi
a liking to her from the first, when she found that the young lady,
"though she were a real lady Ijred and borned," was not above thinking
of how she could save a jjoor girl's legs, wns moved not a little by tlio
sight of Aliss Sandboys' distress— and declareil, as she led the stagger-
ing girl into the passage and helped her to the hall chair, that sho
" couldn't a])ear to see her take on so."

iiut J^icy's misery did not admit of consolation. ITer last chiineo
of saving her father from ])rison had vanished; and now that tlie hopo
which had sustained lier had gone, her grief knew no bounds— tliougU
sho strove with all a woman'u i)ridc t<j hide her sorrow from slrangerH,

210 1851; OE, THE ADVENTURES OF

and would willingly have left the bouse for fear of causing a " scene
in such a place, she had no powei' to move a limb ; and do what she
would, there was no checking the sobs that rose, despite her every
effort, louder and louder, as she thought of the utter friendlessness of
them all.

In a few minutes the sound of Elcy's continued sobbings attracted
the attention of Major Oldschool, who was waiting in the " parlours"
rather impatiently for his tea, and he popped his head out of the door
as he half opened it, partly to learn what was the matter in the hall,
and partly to see about the cup that cheers, but not, &c. The sight
of " the British female in distress " was of course sufficient to excite a
lively interest in the bosom of the gallant soldier. " The white flag
hoisted in the cheek of beauty," as the gentleman engaged for " general
utility" on the stage metaphorically expresses it, when done up in full
regimentals, was always the signal for a truce with Major Oldschool;
and though but the moment before he had felt ready to burst out like
a bombshell for the want of his Twankay, he no sooner caught sight
of the young lady in tears, than he became — as Mr. Braham sings —
" mild as the moonbeams" — and almost as sentimental, into the
bargain.

" Ods! grapeshot and canister!" of course the Major should have
cried, to have kept up the character of the veteran; but hke the
generality of soldiers off the stage, he gave vent to no such military
exclamation, and was about to advance towards the young lady, when
Mrs. Coddle, his female Mentor, and tor-mentor too, detained him by
the skirt of his dressing-gown, informing him that his behaviour was
" exceeding onpolite," and begging to know what was the use of bells in
a house if he was to go dancing after the servants in that there Avay —
and observing, moreover, that one would imagine he had never been
accustomed to genteel society in all his life.

As the unceremonious and excited Major struggled to get away

from the clutches of his punctilious housekeeper, he d d her and

all her genteel society, and then with a sudden jex-k that made the
stitches of his duffel skirts crack again, freed himself from the
grasp of the mistress of the ceremonies of his front parlour, and
hobbled towards the weeping girl.

Elc}', on being patted consolingly on the shoulder, looked up for a
minute, and the Major no sooner recognised the features of the young
lady who had so recently been an inmate of Mrs. Fokesell's establish-
ment, than he took her by the hand, and saying that was no place for
her, bade her step into his room and let him know all about what had
happened. Then, as he raised the hesitating girl from her seat, and
led her along the passage, he said, comfortingly — "There — there: you
need have no foolish ceremony with me ; for, do you know, I find, on
talking v.-ith Mrs. Fokesell, that your papa is the neighbour of my old
East Indian friend. Colonel Benson. Why, I've heard the colonel
talk by the hour of Old Cursty Sandboys, and all his family, till
I've known you every one without seeing you, as well as if I'd
been bred and born in Buttermere. You're Elcy Sandboys, I'm

MR. AND MRS. CUllSTV SANDBOYS. 211

certain : you're the little girl that used to he so fond of pet squir-
rels and doves, — oh! yes, I know all about you: and there's that
hairbrained young brother of yours, Master Jobby ; and Mrs. Sand-
boys, that cleanly and tidy mother of your own, whom Colonel
Benson ^aye away to your father at Lan-something-or- other Green
Church, — eh? There, you needn't fidget with me ! You sec I know
all about the whole of you : and how ever I could have been so
foolish as not to have guessed when I first heard your name that
you were the Colonel's old friends, I can't say. I've been puzzling
my head about it ever since Mrs. Fokesell told me where you came
from. But, you see, London and Buttermere are so wide apart, that I
never should have dreamt of your being the same people, if I hadn't
learnt as much the day after you had gone."

Then, as the Major saw the girl half rise from her seat, as if she
wished to depart, he exclaimed, in as tender a tone as he could
manage, "Come ! come! what are you fidgeting about there? Come,
tell me now, where's your father and mother? I quite long to shake
them both by the hand. But what's all this fretting about, my little
one, eh ? Come, now make a friend of me ! Have some of those big

•whiskered foreign fellows been insulting you in the street. D n

'em, I only wish I could have caught them at it, I'd have let them
feel the tip of my wooden leg, I warrant them. Come, tell me about
it, like a good girl ; for if it were only for Colonel Benson's sake, you'd
always find a friend in me."

The kindness and the friendship of the Major came so unexpectedly
upon the heartbroken girl, that she could scarcely speak for very joy.
The change from utter hopelessness to assurance of assistance had
been so sudden, too, and the transition from one intense emotion to
another of a precisely opposite character so unprepared, that the con-
flict of feeling was too much for Elcy. The tears now Hooded her
eyes with exceeding happiness, while her sobs were changed to an
hysteric laugh, till at length, it became impossible for her to repress
her feelings any longer, and the " scene," whose occurrence she had
so much dreaded before strangers, ultimately came to pass.

The Major, unused to such events, no sooner saw the unconscious
girl fall heavily back in the chair, and heard her shriek one minute,
as if with intense agony, and laugh the next, as if convulsed with the
■wildest mirth, than believing she had become suddenly crazed, he
rang every bell he could lay hands upon, and swore at his old
housekeeper in a manner, as she said, that slie had never been accus-
tomed to in all her life afore, having lived only in the first of families —
and which, in the vivid language of Mrs. Coddle, made her Itluod run
quite cold down her back, as if some one was emiitying buckets and
buckets of spring water over her head.

At length, by the aid of cold water, and sal-volatile, uiul vinegar,
and burnt feathers, and hartshorn, and all the otiier Hi)proved methods
of female revivificaticjn, the young lady was restored to e()nsciousncs.s,
and in a few minutes afterwards, was able to eomnumieate to the
open-hearted Major the many troubles of herself and family.

212 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

The old soldier was all excitement when he heard that the intimate
acquaintance and early companion of one of his oldest friends was
detained in custody, and about to be removed to the House of Correc-
tion, for the want of some one to vouch that he was not the common
pickpocket he had been mistaken for; and the Major fumed and
swore at his old housekeeper worse than ever when she whispered
in his ear, while helping him on with his coat, that he had much
better stop at home and take his tea, than trouble his head about
other people's affairs — exciting hisself in the Avay he was a-doing
about parties he'd never even so much as spoken to. She could see
plain enough what it would all end in ; — he'd go and overheat hisself,
and catch cold on top of it : and then, if it only struck inn'ards, who
would have to nuss and take care on him, she would like to know !

Though the Major called the dame "a suspicious old fool," and kept
abusing her all the while she was fastening the hooks and eyes of his
military surtout, she continued to give vent to her feelings, and
begged to remind him, that it would be no fault of hern if he went
and got his blood chilled, and had the cold lay in his bones to the end
of his days. Nor would she let him quit the house until she had
placed the cork sock in his shoe, and stowed away his comforter
in the crown of his hat, saying, that there was no telling how late he
might be kept on such a herrand. And as she accompanied him to
the street-door, she drew her little bag of camphor from her bosom,
and slipping it into his hand, bade him keep it about him ; for with
that in his pocket, there was no chance of his ketching any of the
nasty fevers that was always flying about in such low places.

The Major, impatient as he was, could hardly refrain from laughing
at Mistress Coddle's extreme care; and as they hurried up the street,
he dilated on the medicinal and domestic virtues of his housekeeper —
half by way of apology for the familiarity of her manner, and half as
the means of diverting or alleviating the distress of his young
companion.

But poor Elcy paid little attention to what was said ; she was too
much alarmed, lest they should reach the oflSce when it was too late
to save her father from being consigned to prison, and responding
Yes and No, smiled mechanically at the Major's remarks, without
understanding one word of what he was telling her. As the old
East Indian warmed in his description of the valuable services of his
housekeeper, he occasionally paused on the way, standing still, much
to Elcy's horror, to give her a more vivid idea of the doings of his
female factotum. Then the anxious girl would strive, by every
gentle art, to lead him on, and when she found she could stir him
by no indirect means, she would timidly remind the Major that they
had little time to spare; then away they would hurry again — the
Major's wooden leg sounding on the pavement, as they went, like a
cooper's hammer at an empty cask.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 213

CHAPTER XXIII.

" True friendship leyfe's deleyte still pruives,
Isor ever flings mnnkeyn' to woe,
The gild whea still their bietlireu luives
What leads to virtue ny will shew.

" True friendship that can neer cause streyfe,
But e'eu keep frae distress and pain,
An' shew what bliss it gie's thro' leyfe
In every bwosom still s'ud reign.''

" To Friendship" by Anderson.

Ik less than an hour after the incident above recorded, Major Old-
school was seated in the i^arlour, at the head of the table, entertaining
" Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys, their son and daughter," to a " quiet cup of
tea;" while Mrs. Coddle kept continually fidgeting in and out of the
room — bobbing in now with a plate of muffins — and now with a pot
of marmalade; and each time she did so, whispering in the ^lajor's
ear, as she placed '■' the delicacy" on the table, some fresh instructions
as to the mode of conducting the ceremonies on such important occa-
sions. At one time she would nudge his elbow, as she leant over the
table, and say, aside, to him, " There you are again draining the tea-
pot down to the very dregs !" and at another, she would exchiim, in
an under-tone, " What ever are you about, filling up the cups without
emptying the slops;" — until the poor Major grew so confused as to
the formalities of the tea-table, that he emptied the entire contents of
the cream jug into the slop-basin; and in his anxiety to hand the
tea-cake to Mrs. Sandboys, and prevail upon her to take "just one small
piece more," left the tap of the urn running, and was not aware of his
neglect until Cursty suddenly jumped up from his chair, startled by a
stream of boiling-hot pouring on to his knees.

The Sandboys, however, were all too well pleased with their recent
good fortune to do other than laugh at the little mishaps of the tea-
table; and Mr. Sandboys himself had been so often in hot water of
late, that after the first smart of that from the urn, he could afford to
chuckle over the accident almost as heartily as his son Jobby, who no
sooner saw his father start up, and wildly drag the front of liis
trousers from his knee, than guessing what had hajipencd, the lad was
seized with a comic convulsion while in the act of drinking his fourth
cup, and spurted the entire contents of it over the clean cap of
Mrs. Coddle as she rushed frantically to the urn to stay the scaUhng
torrent that was pouring from the tap.

When the tea-things had been removed, and the party had settled
themselves down for a friendly chat, Mr. and Mrs. Sandbc.yfl reodunted
to the Major all the adventures they had gone tliruugh sine.' th.-ir dei.nr-
ture from Buttermere; and the Major, in his turn, when he had s^-ra-
pathized and laughed with them at their many troubles, ran over the
several feats of arms performed by himself and their mutual friend,

214 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

the Colonel, in India. He told tlicm how they had gouged a diamond
worth several lacs of rupees out of the eye of one of the idols they
had taken ; — and the Sandboys on the other hand, informed him how
they had been defrauded of their season ticket for the Great Exhibition
by a scoundrelly Frenchman styling himself the Count de Sangshimmy.
And thus they continued, each narrating to the other the several scenes
in which they had figured as principal actors, till Mr. Sandboys, in
summing up the long list of mishaps he had experienced in his endea-
vours to get a sight of the contents of the Great Exhibition, was
irresistibly led to the conclusion that the whole series of events was
the work of a stony- hearted Fate, and that it formed part of the
records of Destiny, as kept by the Registrar-General of Calamities-to-
come, that neither he nor any member of his family should ever set
foot in the interior of the Crystal Palace. He began to regard himself
as the hero in some Greek tragedy, which he had a faint remembrance
of reading in his college days at St. Bees. Accordingly, he commu-
nicated to his dear Aggy the resolution which the recapitulation of his
many trials had induced in his mind — namely, that it was sheer pig-
headedness on their part to attempt to swim against the current of
events, or to play the Canute of 1851, and seek to drive back the tide
in their affairs.

Mrs. Sandboys did not require much persuasion to bring her to the
same opinion. She was sick and tired of t' wretched jjlace, she said,
and would gladly send "t' first thing" on t' morrow to Mrs. Wewitz
for their boxes, so that they might start for Cockermouth by that
evening's train. Major Oldschool did all he could to laugh the
Cumberland coujile out of their fatalistic fancies, but his gibes and
jests Avere of no avail. Mr. Sandboys assured him he Avas as im-
moveable as the Great Pyramid, and that Archimedes himself, even
with his huge lever and the required fulcrum, would find that some-
thing more than a straw was needed to stir him. And thus the
evening passed, the Major striving by every means to induce them
to prolong their visit, telling them of the many wonders of the
" Great Show" — at one moment describing to them the splendour of
the glass fountain — and the next, picturing the beauty of the Veiled
Vestal ; — now speaking in hyperbolical raptures to Mrs. Sandboys of the
magnificence of the silks and velvets from Lyons, and the ribbons from
Coventry, — then turning to Elcy, and descanting on the size and
value and brilliance of the far-famed Koh-i-noor, and the admired jewels
of the Queen of Spain, — and afterwards trying to excite the curiosity
of Mr. Sandboys with a glowing detail of the marvels of machinery in
motion — the self-acting mules, and the Jacquard lace machinery, and
the centrifugal pumps, and the steam printing-press, and the envelope
machine — but despite the enthusiasm of his friend, Cursty remained
fixed in his determination; and so as not to allow the Major even
the chance of shaking it, the resolute Mountaineer took his chamber
candlestick, and retired with his family to the apartments that the
Major had directed Mrs. Coddle to have prepared for them.

In the morning, Mr. Sandboys, having slept upon his determination

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 215

of the previous evening, and being several hours nearer to the time
which he had fixed for his return to Butterniere, began to think what
his neighbours down there would say, when they heard that he and
his whole family had been up to London to see the Great Exhibition,
and had come away again without ever setting foot in the place. He
would be the laughing-stock of the country for miles round ; there
wouldn't be a keeping-room far or near but what would have some
cock-and-a-bull story or other to tell about them. Besides, why
should he deprive the children of the sight ? If Fate had decreed
he was never to witness it, that was no reason why Elcy and Jobby
should be kept away ; and after all that dear girl had gone through
for him, he was sure she deserved some little return for her goodness.
Then again, he knew Jobby, poor boy, was mad to have a peep at the
machinery room, which he had heard and read so much about ; and it
would be something for him to talk about when he got to be an old
man, that he had seen the first Exhibition of Industry in this country :
besides, the lad was naturally of a mechanical turn of mind ; he had
spoilt no less than three Dutch clocks out of the kitchen in trying-
to clean them ; and then at making bird-traps and artificial flies for
fishing, there wasn't a boy in the village could come near him.
Who could say what effect the Great Exhibition might have on such
a mind? And thus Mr. Sandboys continued inwardly framing excuses
to himself why they should delay their departure to Buttermere for
four-and-twenty hours longer at least.

Wliile the preceding train of thoughts had been passing through
the mind of the wavering Cursty, a like chain of reasoning had been
going on in Mrs. Sandboy's brain, unknown to her husband. She,
too, had been asking herself " how it would look," when the neighbours
came to know that they had never so much as put their heads inside
the doors of the very place they had come hundreds of miles to see;
and she, like her lord and master, had been persuading herself, that at
least, if she chose to keep away, it was her boundcn duty to let the
" dear" children see the grand sight.

Neither, however, ventured to give the least hint to the other as
to the nature of their morning's reflections; and it was only when
Mr. Sandboys sat in front of the looking-glass, rubbing the lather
over his chin previously to shaving, till he looked like a twelfth-cake,
that he communicated to his darling Aggy, while she was iii the act
of hunting after the grey hairs among her front curls, his doubts
as to the propriety of their (putting London for liutterniere that
evening. After he had exhausted the arguments in favour of the
children,— to all of which Mrs. Sandboys, as .she pokc.l the top
part of her head close against the looking-glass over tlie mantelpiece,
the better to find the stray silver threads she was searching for. gave
her most cordial assent,— the Ciunberland g. ntleuiau touched upon
the point which constituted, as it were, the fuh-rum ui...n which his
moral lever turned, and confessed that lie did not like to he beaten in
the object he had undertaken. If they had tried to gain adinittaiico
to the Exhibition only once, he urged, and had been prevented by

21 G 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

some unforeseen accident, it would not have mattered so much, and
they might have returned then with even a good grace; but now
that they had made so many attempts, and failed so rejieatedly, they
would naturally look ridiculous in every person's eyes, provided they left
London without succeeding in their purpose, after all the pains they
had taken, and the sufferings they had endured to accomplish it. Of
course, all the neighbours would say, " Well, hang it ! I \yud ha' seen
t' pleace, if I'd died for it !" and only laugh at them for their weakness.
Agoy, who seemed to have excellent sport that morning, and
keptTwitching out the grey hairs like a Thames angler does gudgeons,
fully concurred with all the sapient Cursty uttered, and expressed her
approbation with each fresh jerk, though Avith greater warmth, perhaps,
than she otherwise might have done, owing to the sharp twinge which
accompanied the delicate operation in which she was engaged.

But Mr. Christopher Sandboys had yet to tackle the moral part of
his subject; and as, in the process of shaving, he laid hold of himself
by the nose the better to accomplish the razorial fancy-work round
the corners, he frankly acknowledged, that to run away from the
metropolis, after what they had experienced, would betray a deficiency
of moral courage on their parts, which would be utterly unworthy of
the sturdy mountain race to which they belonged. Besides, it was
the sure criterion of a weak mind to give way to the force of circum-
stances; and he asked himself and his wife, what was nobler than to
see an honest man driving his head, like a moral battering-ram, against
a thick wall of difficulties, and ultimately overthrowing it. Then,
as he called to mind the fortitude of the Grecian and lloman heroes
of his college days, he added — " Did not moral greatness consist merely
in bearing and subduing the misfortunes that beset us, and certainly
not in packing up our boxes and running from them by the first
express train." And as Mr. Sandboys delivered himself of this heroic
sentiment, he, in the ardour of his enthusiasm, gave his head so self-
satisfied a jerk, that, forgetting the perilous act in which he was en-
gaged, he inflicted a gash that put his powers of endurance severely to
the test, and immediately dissipated the whole of the stock of courage
upon which he was priding himself.

The upshot of the above conjugal consultation was, that there
was passed that morning at the breakfast-table a resolution, pro-
posed by Mr. Sandboys, seconded by his darling Aggy, and carried
with acclamations by the Major and the entire family, declaring
that one more attempt should be made to visit the Great Exhibition,
and expressive of the opinion of the meeting, that the sooner such
attempt was made the better. Accordingly, it was finally arranged,
as the weather at that time looked particularly promising, that the
whole family should "slip on their things" immediately after break-
fast, and start for the Crystal Palace by the first omnibus.

Again the Sandboys were, one and all, in high glee at the prospect
of witnessing the " World's Show" at last, and Elcy and Jobby imme-
diately lost their appetite in expectation of the coming treat.

The morning meal finished, the boy flew up the stairs four at a time,

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 217

dragging Lis laughing sister after bim, and kept bobbing in and out of
her room all the while she was dressing, intent upon playing lier some
monkey trick or other. Now, to his sister's horror, he wouUl seize
her white drawn-bonnet, and putting it on the crown of his head like
an apple-woman's, scamper off with it, sliding down the banisters;
.then he would bounce suddenly into her room again, and dab down
a cup of sour milk on her dressing-table, telling her she would find
that a plummy thing to bathe her freckles with.

Mrs. Sandboys was perhaps more tidgetty than ever over the toilet
of herself and Cursty. She irould insist upon arranging his neckcloth,
and tying his waistcoat in for him ; nor did she spare any pains to set
herself off to the best possible advantage.

And when they were all ready, they assembled in the parlour to
receive the instructions of the Major as to the precautions they should
take against losing one another in the monster building. The old
soldier was in the course of impressing upon the family the necessity of
keeping together, and arranging to meet at the glass fountain in the
transept at a stated hour, in case they should get parted from one
another in the crowd — or else, as he said jokingly, they might be all
the day hunting after each other through the several countries of the
globe — first bobbing into China, and then scampering through Kussia,
and after that scouring round America, while perhaps the missing one
was wandering quietly among the Channel Islands, or taking a five
minutes' lounge through India ; and he had scarcely completed his
many injunctions as to how they were always to keep an eye upoa
" the party" Avho carried the sandwiches, — for they must remember that
he was the most important member of the whole body, and that if lie

were lo:^t, their dinner was lost too, when

. There was a faint tap at the parlour door, and the moment after
Mrs. Fokesell, popping her head into the room, requested to speak
with Mr. Sandboys.

A cold shiver passed through Cursty 's frame^ at the mysterious
nature of the summons. After so many slips 'twi.xt the (crystal)
cup and his lip, he could not help having a presentiment that some-
thing dreadful was about to happen; and as a means of ucquinng
additional courage to bear up against the calamity, whatever it nught
be, he begged Mrs. Fokesell to step in and comnmnicate what she had
to say in ihc presence of the conijiany.

The 1 ludlady coughed hesitatingly, and nodded, and beckoned to
Mr. Sandbovs, so as to indicate to him, in the most e.\i>rcssivc i)au-
tomime she'was mistress of, that she wished to speak with hiin alouc.

Cursty, who was now more alarmed thiin ever, hurrn-d over to
Mrs. Sandboys, who had been intently watching the huitUa.ly s gea-
tures, and requested her to sec what it was the woman wanted

A<^£rV stepped across to the door, and in u whisper b.-gged to bo
madracquaintcd with the nature of Mrs. Fokesell's business ; but the
landlady still hesitated, saying, "in a nasty insinuating way, that Mrs.
Sandboys didn't half like," that "she had rayther tell wliut hl.e had to
tell to the gentleman hissclf." ^Vhcu Mrs. Sandboys, whoso curiu»ity

218 1851 ; OR, the adventures of

was now i)iqued almost to a painful degree, found that it was use-
less trying to get out of the woman the purport of the tidings she had
to communicate, she returned and intimated as much to her husband,
who, though pretending to be deep in conversation with the Major,
had been listening the while to what was passing at the door.

Cursty felt his heart sink heavily into his boots, like a stone in a
well, and solemnly summoning Mrs. Fokesell into the room, bade
her, in as firm a voice as he could manage under the circumstances, tell
him then and there what it was all about.

Mrs. Fokesell, who grew angry on finding that her regard for
delicacy was in no way appreciated, bounced boldly into the room,
and, looking Mr. Sandboys full in the face, said, a« she shook her
head rapidly at him —

" Well, then, if you will have it ! there's the beadle from the
work'us has come after you."

Mr. Sandboys stood aghast; — his jaw fell like a French toy nut-
cracker's, and his hair stood on end till it looked s most like a
grenadier's cap.

The Major, to conceal the smiles which he could not suppress,
turned a h'Ai jnrotiette on his wooden leg, as if he were a pair of ani-
mated comi:)asses describing the arc of a circle.

Mrs. Sandboys looked a whole library, or several hundred volumes,
of doubt and fears at her wretched partner. What could it all meani
she mentally inquired, as she untied her bonnet strings, and began
fanning herself violently with her pocket-handkerchief.

A solemn silence reigned for a minute cr two after Mrs. Fokesell's
announcement — a silence like that which succeeds a violent peal of
thunder.

" T' beadle from t' workhouse !" exclaimed the amazed north country-
man. " What in t' warld can t' man want wi' me ?"

"Want!" echoed the indignant landlady, with a jerk of her head
that made the grubby artificial flowers in her cap shake again.
" Well, if your own conscience wont tell you, there's the beadle hisself
in the passage, and you'd better step out and ask him ; for it ain't my
place to breed words in a family."

Here the shoulders of the Major, who Avas pretending to be look-
ing out of the window, were seen to shake violently, while Mrs. Sand-
boys cried, " Breed words ! What can t' woman mean?"

Cursty, who began to perceive that matters were assuming a very
serious complexion, summoned all his little philosophy to his aid, and
making the greatest possible show of it in his countenance, like a
tradesman with a small stock of goods dressing his shop-window to
the best advantage, directed Mrs. Fokesell to d&sire the parish func-
tionary to step in.

The next moment the Terror of boys at church, and the Leader of
parish engines to chimneys on fire, marched into the room in all the
imposing pomp of gold lace, cocked hat, and capes, and the countenance,
which Avas all austerity to the children in the free seats, relaxed into a
pleasing benignity immediately the possessor of it discovered that the

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 219

" party" of whom he had come in quest belonged to the " respectable
classes."

Mr. Sandboys, in the best style of injured innocence, inquired briskly
of the officer what was the nature of his business with him.

The discreet fuuctiouary looked cautiously round the apartment,
and then winking the eye that was nearest to Mrs. Sandboys, as much
as to remind the gentleman that ladies were present, began fiddling
with the gold lace round his cocked hat, and replied that he had been
sent on to him by the Board.

"T' Board! — what Board?" shouted Christopher.

" The Board of Guardians," was the reply. And then the beadle
proceeded to ask the gentleman whether his name was not Christopher
Sandboys: and receiving an answer in tlie affirmative, he begged
further to be informed whether the gentleman did not reside in Butter-
mere, in the county of Cumberland. !Mr. Sandboys having assented,
the functionary then inquired whether he had not been married at
Lanthwaite Green Church : and on learning that such was the case, he
told the horror-stricken Curtsy that he regretted to say he must go
Avith him on to Marrowbone Workhouse, where the Board was
a-sittiug.

"But what fori" shrieked Cursty, as he stamped rapidly up and
down the room, in positive bewilderment at the extraordinary cha-
racter of the occurrence. There could be no mistake this time as to
his being the person who was wanted, for tlie man had got his name
and place of residence, and evidently knew all about him.

The only reply the parish officer made to the inquiry was to wink
his eye a second time in a more marked manner than before, and to
jerk his elbow two or three times in the direction of Mrs. Sandboys.

"Don't stand there, man!" shouted the infuriated mountaineer,

"winking your d d eye at me! But tell me what you want

here?"

The parish functionary, who was anxious for the sake of the pro-
spective perquisite, to break the matter as mildly as possible to the
gentleman, replied that he had a hunpleasant hofficc to preform, and
that he was lianxious to preform it in as dclikit a manner as he could—
and hoping no offence, if the gen'elman would step into tlie i)assnge with
him, he'd give him all the particklers : but it wasn't hexactly a case to
speak on afore ladies. And here the official winked his e}e again, and
nudged his elbow in the direction of ]\Irs. Sandboys.

"Ladies !" echoed the almost maddened Christopher— '_' tliat lady is
my wife, and I've no secrets from her, man;" and so saying, he drew
forth his hankerchief, and wiped away the j)erspiration that now stood
ui)on his brow like the moisture on the inside of the windows of a
hackney-coach on a frosty day.

"In coorsc she is!" responded the beadle, with ii knowing air;
"every party I wisits says tlic very hidentical sumn thing; l)ut it aiii't
no business of miu", and I'm not the krnickter to take a i)!(ii.suro in
ruining the peace of families; so, if you'll just step outsiile here fur a
minute, I'll tell you about it, and I've no doubt but what the whole

220 1851 ; or, the adventures of

sore can be hcasily 'caled witli a little palm-oil, you know." And here
the functionary described a small circle inside his hand, and winked
once more at the wonder-stricken Mr. Sandboys.

Mr. Cursty, on second thoughts, began to imagine that perhaps it
might end the affair more quietly if he did as the man urged, and
thougli ]\lrs. Sandboys was for having the whole matter explained in
her presence, Cursty deemed it more prudent to retire in company
with the beadle, and accordingly stepped into the passage to ascertain
what on earth could be the nature of the present charge against him.
There the ])arish official explained to tlie gentleman, in as low a
tone as possible, that he was wanted at the work'us on a ease of
desertion.

"Desertion of what"? — of whom?" — shouted out the innocent Mr..
Sandboys, in the height of his indignation, " I never was in t'army
in all my life."

But the beadle mildly insinuated that he was afeard the matter didn't
consarn the harmy, though p'raps it might have summat to do with
the hinfant-ry; but whether it were a child or a wife what Mr. Sand-
boys had left chargeable to the parish, he couldn't say; all he knowed
was, that he had borders to take the gen'elman back with him, on
a charge of that naytur, and then he hoped no offence, and he axed
the geu'elman's pardon, but he'd a delikit dcoty to preform, and
he always strav to preform it with every regard to the feelings of
the ladies and geu'elmen consarned; whereupon, having looked cau-
tiously round, and whispered in Cursty's ear that if he'd leave it all to
him, it shouldn't stand him in no more than 'Ss. 6d. a week, and what
was more, he'd take care the papers didn't get hold on it, the officer
kept touching his hair and nodding his head in a manner that plainly,
indicated he expected some small gratuity for the discretion he had
used, and the services he had proffered in connexion with the
" delikit" dooty he had to preform.

" I thought I'd keep it dark, you know, sir, from your old 'ooman,"
he added, as Mr. Sandboys seemed disposed to i)ay no attention to his.
hints. " Females takes these little tender matters to heart, so that many
gen'elmen's told me it's been worth scores of pounds to 'em my minding
my p's and q's in the presence of their good ladies. Bless you, if I was to
out with all I knows, I should ruin the peace of half the families in
our parish. Gen'elmen will be gen'elmen, you know, sir;" and then
making that peculiar noise out of the corner of his mouth, in which
the drivers of horses delight, he nudged the astounded Cursty
familiarly in the ribs, while he added, " but ladies can't, for the lives
on 'etn, make no allowance for the secret liaminei's of the lawful
partners of their buzzems." And " the authority" having delivered
himself of these sentiments, went through the same insinuating pan-
tomime as before.

But Mr. Sandboys being wholly unaccustomed to hints of such a
nature, hurried qiuckly past the obsequious functionary, and telling
his bewildered Aggy that some other misunderstanding had occurred,
though what it was, and what it referred to, was more than he could

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 221

make out just then, seized his hat, and without waiting to listen to
her remonstrances, suddenly left the house in company with the
parochial officer.

On reaching the workhouse, the mystery concerning which the
bewildered Cursty had been puzzling his brains for the last hour, was
quickly explained. The Flower Hawker, who had become possessed
of Mr. Sandboys' inexpressibles, had retired into the country on the
" tramp," leaving his " pardner" behind to take up her abode in the
workhouse until his return. On entering that establishment, however,
and undergoing the change of dress customary on such occasions, the
'•' marriage lines" belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys, which the woman
had appropriated (oAving to the total absence of any similar document
appertaining to herself) were discovered secreted in her bosom, and
the name Christopher Sandboys being recognised by the authorities as
that of the pickpocket who had been arrested at the Crystal Palace,
the parish officers had made it their business to track out the where-
abouts of the said Christopher; and learning at the police-office that
he had recently been discharged from custody, and had afterwards
retired in company with his witness, a gentleman from Craven-street
in the Strand, they had directed their constable to bring "the man"
before them, so that he might be made responsible for the main-
tenance of his wife.

Mr. Sandboys, had no little difficulty in making "the Board" compre-
hend and believe the facts of the case ; for though the woman denied
that he was her husband, as stoutly as Cursty did that she was his
Avife, the ever-suspicious authorities could not help fancying but Avhat
there was some trick in the affair, and that the woman persisted in
her statement of having picked up the paper in the street, merely
from a desire to keep "her pardner" out of trouble, so that it Avas not
until Ih. Sandboys had sent for Major Oldschool to speak once more
to his respectability, that he was allowed to return to the bosom of his
family.

Mrs. Sandboys was too delighted at obtaining possession of her
marriage certificate once more to do other than laugh heartily at what
had occurred, and though Cursty felt inclined to trace the linger of
Destiny in the whole affiiir, Aggy, from the pleasant termination of
the occurrence, could not consent to look upon the circumstance as a
disappointment, and made up her mind to go the very next shilling-
day to the Exhihition. Cursty, however, was fully persuaded that
they should never set foot within the Crystal Palace, and was for
going home by the fir.st train in the morning; and it was not until
Major Oldschool consented, provided Mr. Sandboys would rcnnun his
guest till the Monday following, that he himself would accompany
them and see them safe through the entire expedition.

This offer was more than Mr. Sandboys could withstand ; and ac-
cordiigly, on the condition that, come what may, the family should
leave town for Buttcrmere the day after their visit to the Kxlnl.ition,
he at length consented to make one more trial under the guulnnco
of his excellent friend, :Major Oldschool. In lhi.s frame of mind we

222

1851; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

must now leave tlic family for awhile, to revert to another member of
the same establishment.

Mrs. Quinine, whose health had in no way improved since we left
her, lay still stretched upon the sofa of Mrs. Fokesell's second floor,
enacting the part of the interesting invalid as usual. For the last
three months, however, her hand had been removed from her cheek,
and her fingers busily engaged in inserting tiny embroidered crowns
into tiny muslin caps — little things that seemed fit only to serve for
the head-dress to an apple dumpling. Dr. Twaddles had called daily
at the house for eight weeks past, to inquire " how we Avere getting
ou," and had held himself in readiness, for the same lengthened space
of time, to answer the lady's summons with the least possible delay.
Mrs. Pilchers had arrived with her bundle, and had been sleeping on
chairs in the studio for the last six weeks. The white satin pin-
cushion, ornamented with the well-known infantine greeting of

jLITOEJLE BTSAUeEBc

inscribed in pins, had been forwarded by one of the lady's " dearest"
schoolfellows, so long since that it had lost much of the original deli-
cacy of its complexion. "The basket" had been prepared for many
weeks, and stood on the toilet table in the lady's bedroom, with its
powder-box and puff, and its little soft goat's-hair brush stuck in the
side-pockets, and the bassinet remained done up in silver paper in the
corner of the room ; but though all these extensive preparations had
been made for the " little stranger," and its welcome had been 2nnned
by a friendly hand, the lady and all her female friends Avere kept in a
state of the mosb tantalizing suspense; for no "little stranger"
came.

Each day some new article v/as added to the infantine wardrobe or
furniture, in anticipation of the arrival of the long-looked-for little guest.
To-day, Mrs. Pilchers was despatched for the newly-invented "artificial
mothe'r" that the lady had seen advertised, and thought it best to be
prepared v,-ith ; to-morrow, the same acconuiiodating dame was hurried
ofi" after a half-guinea bottle of the immo:tal Mrs. Johnson's Soothing
Syrup. Then Mr. Quinine would sign lize hi i self as a "dear man,"
by one day presenting his wife with a "' sweet pretty" coral and bells,
and anotiier, sending her home a " love" of a baby-jumper. All the
preliminary arrangements were on the most exten^-ive scale ; quarts of
dill-AV;ter, pound packets of " soujie," cashmere cloaks and hoods,
india-rubber rings, wicker rattles, nursing-aprous, pap-warming night-

MR. AND MRS. CCRSTY SANDBOYS. 223

lamps — each and eveiy of the several puerpe al properties had been
got read", even down to the white g'ove for the knocker, (indicative
of a " little kid,") together with the small five-shilling advertisement
in the morning papers concerning " the lady of Fuseli Quinine, Esq."
Indeed, the entire mise en scene of the forthcoming spectacle had
been " got up," as the theatrical managers say, " utterly regardless
of expense."

Suddenly, however, it struck "the lady of Fuseli Quinine, Esq.,"
that one thing was still wanting to complete her stock of infantine
furniture. She had forgotten that time-honoured preserver of the
peace of families — a nurse's chair ; and felt convinced that, witho t
the aid of the popular soporific seat, her " tiddy ickle sing" would
never close its eyes; for Mrs. Quinine, enlightened by the profound
experiences of Pilchers, was assured that that kind of wabbly, waggly,
bobby motion which is peculiar to steam-boats, and the horror of
children of a larger growth, was the delight of all those of a tender
age, as if the homuncule was specially pleased in having a taste of
" the ups and downs" of life at the earliest possible period in its
existence.

And certainly Mesdames Pilchers and Quinine were fully borne
out in their opinions by the prevailing pacific treatment adopted by
mothers and nurses in general. The fashionable theory among those
entrusted with the care of infants seems to be, that babies, like physic,
"when taken, should be well shaken;" and, accordingly, the early
existence of the poor little things is made to consist of a scries of
agitations in every possible direction. In the arms they are bobbed
up and down — in the rocking-chair they are waggled backwards and
fomards — in the cradle they wabble from side to side — on the knee
they are joggled till they shake again, like lumps of hlanc-mange —
and if allowed to remain quiet for a few minutes in that position, they
are continually thumped on the back, as if they had swallowed a fish
bone in their pap.

"Tlie lady of Fuseli Quinine, Esq.," was suflSciently impressed
with the correctness of what may be styled " the undulating theory"
of nursing, that she no sooner discovered she had overlooked what,
as newspaper critics say, " should be in every nursery," than the lady
began to think how she could remedy the defect.

A domestic consultation was held with the sagacious Pilchers, when
it was arranged that it would be useless purchasing a new chair for
the express purpose of wabbling the little stranger about, when "any
old thing" could be cut down, and have the rockers ])ut to it, at a
quarter the expense ; whereupon Mrs. Quinine suddenly remembered
that they had a spare arm-chair in the studio, which would be "the
very thing." Mrs. Pilchers having retired to try the quality of the
article, returned in a few moments, saying that the legs would want
cutting down about one-half, and then " it would do cajiital." It was
accordingly arranged that " Nurse" should learn the address of Mrs.
Fokesell's jobbing carpenter, and get him to come in for an hour or
two, and make such alterations as were wanted.

11

224 1851; or, the adventures of

While ^Irs. Pilchers is thus engaged, we will avail ourselves of the
uninteresting circumstance to return to " !Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys,
their sou and daughter.''

The day appointed for the family's visit to the G. eat Exhibition, under
the escort ( t" the gallant !Major Oldschool, had at length arrived; and
the old soldier and his friends having partaken of an early breakfast,
the Sandboys retired to their rooms, to prepare once more for the
eventful occasion, confident that at length their long-pent-up curiosity
was about to be gratified.

Mrs. Sandboys had not only to arrange her own toilet, but to look
after that of her boy Jobby, and his father Cursty as well. She had
to tie the neckcloth and the waistcoat-strings of the elder Sandboys,
and to sew fresh strap button^ on to the trousers of the younger male
member of the family, as well as to take in a large sippet in the back
of one of his father's " white vests," before that boy could be made
to look, as his mother said, in any way decent ; adding that, really he
did grow so fast, that it was as much as she could do to keep his
trousers strapped down below the top of his socks.

Elcy's toilet, too, was not a matter of a moment to arrange.
There was her front hair to take out of the " crackers," which she had
concealed during breakfast behind her bandeaus, and there was her
" back hair" to plait, and this, even with a young lady from the
mountains of Cumberland, was a good half-hour's occupation.

During the unusually long toilet of the Sandboys family. Major
Oldschool fidgeted about his room for a few minutes, and then it
struck him that as he should have to " beau"' the ladies about, he
really ought to treat himself to a pair of new gloves for the occasion;
for really, as he said, he had carried his black kid about with him screwed
up in his hands so long during the hot weather, that they were as stiff
and ciukly as French plums. Accoi'dingly he put on his hat, and,
lest he should detain the ladies, hurried as fast as his wooden leg
would carry him into the Strand, there to purchase, for the " first
time these thirty years," a pair of " yellow kids."

In the meantime, the jobbing carpenter had stepped round " first
thing in the morning," as he had been ordered, to cut down the
arm-chair, and fix on the rockers which he had brought with
him. I^Irs. Quinine was no sooner informed of his arrival than she
directed Mrs. Pilchers to take the chair to the man, and let him do it
down stairs, for that to have him sawing in the next room to her
would be more than her nerves could bear.

Accordingly, " Nurse" having called the cai'penter to fetch the
chaii-, followed him with it into the passage : there she happened to
catch sight of the open door and unoccupied state of Major Oldschool's
apartments, and having heard on the previous evening in the kitchen
that " the parlours" were going to spend the day at the Great Exhibi-
tion, she immediately concluded that the Major had left with his
friends for the Crystal Palace: so Mi-s. Pilchers, being a discreet
woman, and averse to " noises" and " breeding words," as she called it,
in strange places, thought it would be better, since Mrs. Fokesell

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 225

was a very odd person and had veiy odd ways with her, if the man just
stepped into Major Ohlschool's room, while the old gentleman was
out, and did what little he had to do to the chair in that place, with-
out asking any favours of the landlady. Then having strictly en-
joined the man to be careful and make no dirt, she told him he might
go into the parlour, and there alter the chair.

The carpenter accordingly carried the arm-chair into the Major's
apartment, while Mrs. Pilchers returned to " her lady." The work-
man, to obtain as much light as possible, proceeded with the chair to
the window, and placed it down on its side, the better to shorten the
legs. He was in the act of opening his basket of tools, when hearing
Mrs. Fokesell's voice calling him from above stairs, he hastened away
to learn what she desired. On reaching the drawing-room, the land-
lady requested the carpenter to bring his tools with him, saying that
she Wcinted him to look to the lock of the cheffonier in the iirst floor,
for that Baron de BoltzofT, the foreign gentleman who had her draw-
ing-rooms, and was as mean as a Scotch pawnbroker, complained that
the thing wouldn't fasten properly, and had even lowered his-self to
that degree to accuse her and the poor girl of pilfering his trumpery
tea and sugar, confessing that he actually counted the lumps, and
marked where the gunpowder stood in the caddy in black-lead pencil.
Mrs. Fokesell then told the man she should like him to cobble the
lock up somehow, but not to put her to any expense about it, as it
was only an old ricketty affair that she'd picked up in Brokcr's-row
cheap, and to make it lock at all fast it must have a new bolt put to
it, she knew, but that Avas more than she could afford to have dtuie to
the thing. All she wanted was just to keep the gentleman quiet by
letting him see she had had it attended to.

The carpenter having hastened down stairs again for his basket of
tools, hurried off", as requested, to the drawing-rooms for a short
while, leaving Mrs. Quinine's arm-chair lying on its side in front of
the parlour window, as he had placed it.

The man had scarcely quitted the parlour of Major Oldschool,
when that gentleman returned, admiring the unusually delicate
appearance of Ids hands, as he entered the room. The tirst thing
that struck his attention, after having taken off his gloves, and placed
them carefully on the brim of his hat, in readiness against tiic coming
of the Sandboys family, was the " strange chair" lying on its side by
the front window of his apartment.

"Bless my soul! — how extraordinary! Who on earth could have
brought thLs thing here? — and whatever could they have been doing,
for it to get thrown down on its side in this manner ? It's very odd,
— very odd, indeed !" exclaimed the Major, as he stood for a nauute
or two, eyeing it suspiciously behind his glasses.

But, nothing resulting from his profound reflections, Major Old-
school lifted up the chair from its recumbent position, and having
placed it on its legs, sat himself down in it to try what kiinl of
accommodation it might atlurd a gentleman of his " Ijuild."

"Ton my soul!" ho inwardly ejaculated, aa he wriggled himself

K 2

220 1851; ok, the adventures of

into the scat, and rested his shoulders against the back; "it's denced
comfortable— just suits me, for all the world, as if it was made to
measure ! Precious deal better than those d — d " confessionals" that
they have now, and that keep you as upright as a ramrod, and shove
your knees almost into your mouth ; or those cursed Yankee things,
that keep you on the wabble like a rocking-horse, and make you look
as rickety and short-legged as one of those Italian ' tombelas.'

"A-ah!" he exclaimed, with great gusto, as he stretched himself
far back in his new seat, "there's nothing like your good old-
fashioned arm-chair, after all, with double the regulation allowance of
horse-hair." Then stretching his arms above his head as he yawned,
he added, " Ton my word, if it wasn't for the swarms of flies at my
bald head, I do think I should drop off to sleep in the chair, for
really it is so precious comfortable, and I got up so plaguey early,
that it's as much as I can do to keep my eyelids apart. Well, bless
me, those Sandboys are long enough pipe-claying their facings; if
I'd only known as much, I might have managed to have treated
myself to forty winks more this morning, instead of being up with the
milk."

" 'Pon my life !" he cried, as he shook himself after the first drowsy
nod, "if the ladies are not down soon, they'll find me driving my
pigs to market when they do come;" then, suddenly giving a violent
pat on his forehead, that ' went ofi"' like a percussion cap, he ex-
claimed, " D — n the flies, how they do bite; — and I was just dropping
off" so nicely ;— there's no resting for the sharp, needle-like things,-—
one would fancy my head was a small sugar-cask, from the way in
which they dig their proboscises into it. D — n the flies !" he roared
again, giving his cranium another and a harder slap ; " they'll pick
me to the bone if they go on in this way." Then, to screen him-
self from the flies, he seized the red moreen curtain that hung close
beside the chair in which he was seated, and withdrawing it from the
brass sunflower-like pin, threw it over him, so that his whole body
was concealed behind its drapery, and there was no trace of him to be
seen, beyond his wooden leg, which stuck straight out from the side
of the curtain, and had very much the appearance of the handle of the
cinder-sifter, as it projects half out of the dust-bin.

In a few minutes, what with the warmth of the day, the early
rising, and the relief from the fangs of his tiny tormentors, the flies,
the Major was dead asleep.

It was at this critical point that Mrs. Pilchers descended the stairs
to see how the carpenter was proceeding with the transmogrification
of the arm-chair, into a nurse's ditto — and as she bobbed her head in
at the parlour door, she discovered, to her great surprise, that the
room Avas apparently empty. ^ •

With that due regard to the interest of " her lady " which distin-
guishes every "monthly nuss," when in no way benefited by the
defrauding of her, Mrs. Pilchers proceeded to search the house in a
state of high excitement for the truant journeyman, and learning
from Mrs. Fokeicll that the man was engaged in the drawing-room,

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDROYS. 227

at an odd job for her, tlie consciousness that this same odd job was
being performed at " her Lady's" expense, caused Mrs. Pilchers, in the
height of her indignation, to give a jerk of her christening cup, that
made its ultramarine geraniums bob backwards and forwards on their
wire stalks like the ship in the paper sea of the clock-work pictures.
The " nuss" then bounced out of the kitchen as if she were a baby's
india-rubber ball, inflated with anger, mentally dilating on the " un-
heerd on imperence" of the act, and made the best of her way to
the first floor in quest of her carpenter.

Having called the man out of the room, Mrs. Pilchers communicated
to him "just a bit of her mind" on the heinousness of his allowing
" any one" to take an hour of his time out of " her lady's half day ;"
and having lectured the carpenter in her most moral style, she desired
him to take his tools down that minute and do the chair, or she
would have in " somebody what would."

The poor man, who, like the rest of the "jobbing operatives," was
of rather an obsequious, if not servile turn, stammered out an apology,
and returned in a state of considerable flurry to the drawing-room to
fetch the saw required for the operation.

For fear of giving offence to }kf rs. Fokesell, the carpenter descended
the stairs as softly as he could, but he had scarcely reached the
passage before the drawing-room bell Avas rung violently, and Mrs.
Fokesell, suspecting that " nuss" had been and taken the man off the
job she bad set him, hurried up from the kitchen.

The carpenter, who shrewdly imagined that the bell was rung to
inquire into the cause of his leaving his work in the drawing-room
before it was finished, and being anxious, above all things, not to give
off'ence to the landlady, who was one of his best customers, hastened
into the parlour to get Mrs. Quinine's job over as quickly as possible.
With scarcely a thought as to what he was doing, the nervous man
rushed saw in hand to the window, where he had left the arm-chair,
and perceiving the wooden leg of Major Oldschool protruding from
behind the window curtain, he, in the flurry of the moment, mistook
it for the upper fore-leg of the chair that he had loft lying on its side,
and immediately set to work to reduce it one half.

At this moment, the united voices of Fokesell and Tilchers were
heard wrangling as the ladies descended the stairs, and the carpenter,
in his trepidation, sawed quicker than ever. He had nearly severed
the Major's wooden limb in two, when, to his horror, he felt the leg
suddenly withdrawn from his hold, and immediately ho saw the cur-
tains thrown on one side, and the face of the angry Major Oldschool
glaring fiercely at him.

The man stood for a moment spcU-btmnd, as it suddenly flashed
across his mind that he had mistaken a huinau wooden leg for one
of the lower limbs of a chair, and that he had boon ounght in the act of
curtailing it of its proper proportions; and the old .Nfajor no sooner
di.scoverc<l the nature of the uttiick that iiud been nia.h- upon Ins urtili-
cial limb, than he romainod transiixod with astonishniont at tlie out-
rageous audacity of the deed.

228 1851 ; ok, the adventures of

The two stared wildly at each other, utterly tongue-tied for the
instant ; and before the Major could proceed to wreak his vengeance
on the man, the carpenter had rushed madly from the room.

The Major, furious at the outrage, jumped from his seat, and was
about to giA'c chase to the workman, but no sooner did he place
the half-divided limb on the ground, than snap went the wooden
Diember, breaking under his weight, and he was thrown heavily on
his side upon the floor; while, at the same time, the carpenter, on
turning the corner of the door, ran, in his hurry, full butt against the
contending Fokesell and Pilchers, who, being utterly unprepared for
so sudden a concussion, were precipitated forcibly to the ground, the
carpenter falling with his whole weight upon them ; and as he did so,
the ladies gave vent to the peculiar sound made by paviours on the
descent of their heavy rammers.

It was at this alarming crisis that the family of the Sandboys came
down from their respective bed-rooms, all smiles and ribbons, and on
the tiptoe of expectation for the long-looked-for peep at the Great
Exhibition, The first thing that met their eyes on reaching the
passage were the forms of the wretched landlady and nurse buried be-
neath the heavy body of the jobbing carpenter.

It was no time to stand still and inquire what it all could possibly
mean, so the Cimbrians at once proceeded to clear a way to the
Major's room by exhuming the bodies of the ladies from beneath the
superficial stratum of the bewildered journeyman; while Jobby,
having stepped over the heap, and entered the parlour, shrieked to
his terrified parents that the Major was lying prostrate there on the
carpet, with his wooden leg broken off" sharp at the calf.

Then followed the explanation, with all its disheartening results.
Of course it would be impossible for the Major to accompany them to
the Exhibition shorn of half his leg, while to get it mended in suflftcient
time was an equal impossibility. Though Jobby hinted that the glue-
pot was on the fire below, the Major felt in no way inclined to trust
the maintenance of his perpendicular to so weak a foundation ; nor did
the severed parts admit of being spliced, seeing that the limb would
be reduced several inches by the operation; and as there was no such
thing as borrowing a wooden leg at a moment's notice in a neighbour-
hood that was some miles distant from either Chelsea or Greenwich
Hospitals, why it was evident that the Major must remain at home
until such time as he could get his injuries repaired ; for to proceed
without him was more than Mr. Sandboys would consent to do.

Accordingly, amid much disappointment and sorrow, the family of
the Sandboys once more made up their minds to abandon all hope of
seeing the interior of the Crystal Palace, and to return to their native
mountains at the earliest possible opportunity.

It was quite evident, Mr. Sandboys again repeated, that Fate had
set her face against their ever enjoying the treat, and, for his part, he
was not going to thrust his head any longer against the wall that
Destiny had run up between them and the building.

MR. AND MRS. CURSTV SANDBOYS. 229

CHAPTER XXIV.

"Waes me ! wlint's this that lugs sae nt ray heart,
And fills my breast with seek a dispert smart?
Cau 't be that thing cuwt luive? Good folks uow tell.
And I'se set down just how I find mytel.

" I used to sing my sang, and crack my joke.
And shake my sides at murth like other folk,
But I'se sare chang'd frae what I used to be ;
Luik i' my feace, and you may fairly see."

The Costard's Complaint, by Euan Clark.

It -was a profound remark of Mrs. Coddle — and women, however
humble, read characters very quickly, especially when their own inte-
rests are concerned — that there was no telling whatever had come to
her Major since them Sandboys had got back to the place. She only
knew he hadn't been " all there" for the last ten days.

And certainly a peculiar change JkuI taken place in Major Oldr
school's deportment in general, and to his housekeeper in particular.
Do what she might, there was no pleasing him. For a long time,
Mrs. Coddle speculated as to the cause of the alteration of the gentle-
man's conduct towards her. At first, with a true nurse's discrimina-
tion, she had been inclined to refer his ill-temper to what she termed
the bad state of his " digester," being convinced that his stomach
rather than his head was deranged, and felt satisfied it was all owing
to his having left off his nightly brace of " Cockles." Accordingly,
she provided him with a miniature bandbox of the best antibilious,
and endeavoured to persuade him to swallow a double allowance of
the tiny medicinal dumplings — but all to no avail. Then she felt
certain it must be the nasty rhcumatiz fiying about him, for he'd
been and got his blood chilled the evening he Avcnt to the station-
'us, she knew, cause, on taking his shoe off that night, she bad iound
his sock was quite damp, and the cold must have struck in'ards; so
she made him tureensful of white-wine whey and treacle-posset, and
hot milk and suet, but he would not touch a thimbleful, as she said,
of any of them, vowing he never was better in all his life.

At length, however, Mrs. Coddle, conmumicated in confidence to
Mrs. Fokesell that she had that morning discovered the cause of all
her Major's tantrums of late, for, on examining tlic bottom of her
teacup at breakfast that day, she had seen a wedding among the
grouts as plain as she had ever seed anythink in all her life; ami what
was more, so as to satisfy herself that she couldn't be mistaken, she
had took the trouble to burn a letter, and watch the sinirks among
the ashes, and there was the parson and the clerk a-goiiig one after
the other, for all the world as if they had been right afore her ; and
so, she said, jtutting this and that, and a many other things together,
Mrs. Fokesell miglit take her word for it that there would be a
wedding ui that very liousc afore the twelvemonth was over.

230 1851; or, the adventures of

]\Irs. Fokcsell shook her head, and remarked that there was no
f^oir.f agin such things, and that she too remembered of dreaming
three times running of tumbling into a bed of nettles, and that meant
marriage all the world over — adding, that her Fokesell was going to
sea again directly, and there was no telling what might happen afore
the year was out. But Mrs. Coddle had, as she observed, her eye on
a very different party, and all she would then say was, " that there
was no fools like old fools," and she laid a most significant emphasis
on that part of the proverb which refers to the age of the simpletons.

Every day Mrs. Coddle discovered some fresh evidence to^ confirm
her in the opinion she had formed as to the cause of the Major's odd
ways of late. Now she would catch him seated at his desk, and scrib-
bling on his blotting-pad, in a fit of abstraction, the name of " Elcy."
Then he had taken to paying daily visits to Covent Garden Market in
quest of bouquets and bunches of violets, or baskets of choice fruit,
which he always sent up stairs with his compliments to the ladies.
Then again he had grown all of a sudden " so dreadful purticlar" about
his dress, that there was no bearing him. To-day the plaiting of this
frill wouldn't suit him — to-morrow his shoe wasn't polished to his
liking — and he had actually been and ordered a light poplin palletott,
just because he had seed some of the " young bloods" about in them.

And, to tell the truth, Mrs. Coddle was not very wrong in her sur-
mises as to the reason of the Major's altered behaviour towards her.
Ever since he had first seen Elcy Sandboys weeping in the passage,
and had discovered the tenderness of her care and regard for her
father, he had had thoughts that he had never known before. Major
Oldschool had left England as a mere boy of a cadet, and before he
had been a year up at his station in India, he had discontinued cor-
responding with his mother's lady's maid, to whom he had sworn
eternal attachment on quitting the country. While out in India, the
want of female society had, in a measure, inured him to celibacy, till
at last he had gradually sunk into what the ladies termed " a hardened
old bachelor."

On his return to England, however. Major Oldschool soon began to
find that the Indian life, food, and climate, had made such inroads
upon his constitution, and accustomed him to such habits of indo-
lence, or rather dependence upon others for the execution of even his
most trifling wants, that now that his retinue of black domestics was
no longer at his command, he found it was utterly impossible to
remain without some one to look after him, so he provided himself with
that most miserable of all matrimonial make-shifts, an old crone of a
housekeeper. Mrs. Coddle was not long in discovering how necessary
she was to the comfort of the Major, nor in taking every advantage of
him that his dependence upon her permitted. Major Oldschool, how-
ever, had not been altogether blind to the exactions of his housekeeper
— but being naturally deficient in energy, and not exactly seeing any
way of immediately extricating himself from the web that she had
sjjun round him, he had tolerated her tyranny in as patient a manner
as possible.

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 231

On becoming acquainted with Elcy, the Major began to feel the
thraldom of Mrs. Coddle unusually irksome to him. He was con-
tinually contrasting the truthfulness of the young girl with the artifice
and deceit of the old woman, and com^Jaring the gentleness and
loving care of the one with the exactions and hollow sympathy of the
other; and as he grew to like the younger one, he got almost to hate
the older in an equal degree. Still he would hardly allow himself to
imagine that he could be iu love at his time of life; and whenever he
caught himself thinking how wretched he was with old Mrs. Coddle,
and how happy he could be with Elcy Sandboys to attend upon him,
he drove the thought from his mind, calling himself an old fool,
and mentally inquiring what the world would think of him marrying
a girl who was young enough to be his daughter.

The gentle cause of all this disturbance in the bosom and domestic
arrangements of Major Oldschool was utterly unconscious of the effect
Bhe had produced ; nor did she reciprocate the feelings of that gentle-
man. It is true, she was much struck with his kindness to herself
and to her father during their trouble, and that she did not hesitate
to confess she thought him a very nice old gentleman indeed; and
whenever the Major had formed the subject of conversation with
her family during his absence, she had always spoken warmly of his
kindness and attention to them ; but this the girl had done on every
occasion, frankly and without a blush,

Mrs. Coddle, however, who was sufficiently well skilled in the
development of the gentle passion, from the budding, as it were, to
the blossoming of the orange flowers — not having lived all her years,
as she said, for nothing, — soon required no prophetic vane to tell her
which way the wind blew in the front parlour of Mrs. Fokesell's
establishment, and did not hesitate to confess as much to the landlady
herself. She knew how it would all turn out from the very first time
the Major set eyes on the " chit" a-snivelling in the passage. His
going out without his tea was quite enough for her : and of all artful
young husseys. Miss Sandboys was the wust she ever come a-nigh.
She couldn't abear to see such scheming and jdanning as there was
with young gals, now-a-days, to get well settled in life — no matter to
them what poor cretur they threw out of breail by it : and she had no
doubt that after all she had done for the Major, she'd be thrown
o' one side, like an old shoe, when she wasn't wanted no longer. But
she could tell the pair on 'em tliat she wasn't agoing to be got rid on
quite so easy; and if they didn't know their dooty, and had never
given it so nmch as a thought what was to become of her, why, she'd
just let them see what she considered was her rights. It made iicr
quite ill to think of the deceit there was in tiie world; and what
business had that " bit of a girl" to come turning her out of house
and home — especially when she thought she were comfortable settled
for life — was all she wanted to know.

Thus matters went on, the hatred of Mrs. Coddle toward Elcy
Sandboys increasing in a direct ratio witii tiie liking of the Major for
for the same person, and when the housekeeper learnt that the

232 1851 ; or, the adventures of

intended visit of the Sandboys to the Exhibition, in company with
the Major, had been postponed by the amputation of his wooden leg,
she was as delighted at first as she was annoyed on hearing after-
wards that the Cumberland folk had been prevailed upon by the
Major to remain in London until such time as he could get liis leg
repaired, and fulfil his engagement with them.

Indeed the Major, much to Mrs. Coddle's discomfort, would not
listen to the departure of his friends, and promised to make all haste
in providing himself with a new limb, expressly for their visit to the
Crystal Palace. Accordingly, he set himself to work, thinking what
kind of a new leg he should have, and whom he should get to
make it. This time he made up his mind he would employ a person
one who had some experience in the line, for the last leg he had
made was by a mere novice, and had cost him no little trouble; at
first the manufacturer had constructed it of too great a length, and it
had made him lean on one side, for all the world like a human tower
of Pisa, — then the man cut it down too short, and he had been thrown
from side to the other, like a fresh-water sailor in a heavy swell, —
then, too, the fellow had manufactured the thing out of green stuffj
and it had warped so, that the wooden leg positively looked bandy.

Having by these cogent reasons convinced himself that it would be
far better to place his leg 'in the hands of an experienced artificer,
the Major next began to debate -within himself as to v.'hat should be
the style and material of the limb. One thing he had made his mind
up to ; he was not going to continne in the Greenwich pensioner style
any longer, hobbling about on a leg that was as straight, and had no
more symmetry in it than a stork's. No ! he would have a cork one.
He had often seen in the shops some beautiful fellows, with a black
silk stocking over them, and a calf as plump as a footman's in high
life. Yes ! he would despatch a letter that moment to the very place
where he remembered having seen one worthy of a fashionable phy-
sician in the window. Accordingly, he hopped along to his desk, as
best he could, and scribbled a hasty summons to the artificial limb-
maker.

It was not long before the human centipede — the modern Briarseus —
the Argus of the nineteenth century, made his appearance; and having
learnt from the Major the nature of the accident, proceeded to describe
to the gentleman the quality of the several artifices at present in
vogue for supplying the various defects in the human frame. The
limb-maker had an odd way with him of describing the respective
artificial appurtenances of his business, as if they were his OAvn indivi-
dual possessions, and formed part of his own frame, instead of his
stock in trade.

" Yes, sir, I believe I may say, without vanity," observed the loqua-
cious Frankenstein of 1851, " that I have been long celebrated for the
make of my legs. It is universally allowed that there are not such legs
as mine in all Europe, sir, A lady of quality had one of my legs — the
right leg it was — and she danced the polka in it as well as ever she
could have done it Avith her own, sir."

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 233

Major Oldschool threw up his e}ebrows with astonishment, •while
he smiled Avith delight.

" I can assure you, sir," continued the man, rubbing his hands as if
he were washing them in phantom soap and water, " you will find my
knees not at all stiff" nor shaky ; not like the cheap slop articles, that —
if you will permit me to say so — are very much in the hackney-coach-
horse style. Then, doubtlessly, you may have heard of the superior
quality of my arms and hands, sir. Only the other day I sent home
an arm to a general officer, with a dessert service fitted up inside,
knife and fork, table-spoon, tea-spoon, meerschaum pipe, cork-screw,
and boot-hooks, and the fingers made to take a pinch of snuff" posi-
tively with an air of grace, sir — an air of grace, I may say, sir."

Major Oldschool was too glad to listeu, and therefore refrained
from saying a word that might interrupt the strain of the tradesman's
boastings.

" Then again," resumed the man, " there are my eyes, sir, which I
will challenge the whole world to equal. I will put my eyes against
theirs for any sum they please, let them be black, blue, grey, or hazel,
sir. Perhaps you may have noticed my eyes in the shop window, sir.
I have one — a black one, sir — that obtained me the prize from the
Society of Arts last year, sir. I don't think, sir, you could go into any
fashionable church or chapel without there being cither one or two of
my eyes in the place. I serve all the first people, I can assure you, sir.
Then I have a charitable society in connexion with my establish-
ment, for the gratuitous distribution of eyes to the poor, and a very
great relief it is to them, sir. To servants they are a real blessing —
for mistresses object to one-eyed nurses, or lady's-maids, or cooks,
you know, sir — so I let those kind of people have my eyes at what
they cost me, and they are very thankful for them, indeed, sir. I
should think I have got at least a hundred eyes in place at the present
time, sir."

" Bless me ! bless me !" cried the Major; "I had no idea that art
was carried to such perfection ; — but we live in wonderful times."

" You may say that, sir," replied the man of eye art. " We can
remedy any defect — no matter what, sir. Humpbacks we can pad out
into perfect symmetry; spindle legs we can plump into the finest
calves. If you ^vill take my word for it, there are several tragedians
and footmen in high life who arc strutting about at this present time
in my calves; and as for waiters and dancing-masters, we do a ]>rodi-
gious business with them in the course of tlic year. You would not
believe it, perhaps, sir, l.ut I have known a leg that was modelled
into mahogany bootjacks that was merely made \q> of my calves, after
all. But you will excuse me, sir; this but littU- coticeriiHyou: touch-
ing your own leg, sir. I think you said you should like cork; but if
you will allow me to reconmiend, 1 -hould advise you to have a gutta-
percha one. "We are now making up some beautiful limbs in that
material. I had one leg at home that I did intrnd to hav«; l)rought
round with me under my arm, just for your inspection, sir. I am sure
you would have liked it, the article is so light and clastic : indeed, it

234 1851; OR, the adventures of

is one of my best legs, and uot at all dear, sir. Now, let me make you
lip one of those; for I can assure you, sir, if you will only leave your
leg in my hands, I will turn you out such a nice, light, elegant one"
— and here he smiled and bowed — " that will make you regret you
have not lost the other. Our art, you see, sir, is no base imitation
of Nature, but I may say an imiirovement upon her — as, indeed, all
high art should be, sir. All our limbs are warranted to be true Gre-
cian proportions. If you will oblige me by taking a seat, I will just
take the dimensions of your limb, sir."

Then, as the ilajor sank into the nearest chair, the leg-maker pro-
ceeded to take his measure, and as he pushed up the trouser, suid,
after having passed the tape round the ankle, " How shall we do
about the calf, sir? Shall we reduce the proportions of the artificial,
or plump out those of the natural limbl For my own part, I should
recommend a little of both; and if you will allow me, sir, to send you
round just one or two of my calves to look at, I think you would be
exceedingly pleased with them. I could let you have one calf at a
very low figure just now, for I remember I have an odd calf by me,
as I supplied an Admiral of the Blue with one just your size, for
her ^lajesty's last Levee — or else, you see, sir, it would become expen-
sive to break the pair. The one I should send you is made on the
best plan ; it forms part of the web of the stocking, and so there is no
fear of its turning round to the shin while dancing or taking any
other active exercise, sir, as I dare say you remember used frequently
to liappen with the dreadful things they wore a few years back, and
which you may perhaps recollect, sir, looked more like the cricketer'^
paddings than improvers of the ' form divine.' "

Major Oldschool thought of the ladies, and assented to the trades-
man's proposal.

The limb furnisher rose from his kneeling position, and having
rolled up his measure, and brushed his hat with his sleeve, previous
to his taking his departure, drew a card from his pocket, and pre-
senting it to the Major, said — " Should you be in want of any teeth
at any time, sir, you will find that gentleman very skilful and mode-
rate in his charges. He has some remarkably fine china sets just now ;
you may have noticed one in our window, sir, in a beautiful working
wax head, with the eyes moving, the mouth opening, and the teeth
going in and out every other minute, by clock-work. I have not the
least doubt you remember seeing the model, sir; it has a fine jet-
black beard ; at one moment the figure is as toothless as a sloth, sir
— and the next minute his mouth is filled with an entire set, as
beautiful and white as a sweep's. But perhaps, sir," he added, finding
the Major made no reply, " you are nut in want of anything in that
way. You will see, sir, the gentleman states at the bottom of the
card that his teeth are so much admired, that he has no doubt that
his china sets will shortly supersede all others." Here the man made
a profound bow, and, saying the Major should have his leg home in a
day or two, quitted the room.

The limb-maker had no sooner closed the door than he returned, and
presenting a small pamphlet, said — " I beg your pardon, sir; but would

MR. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 235

you allow me to present you with tins little list of testimoni.ils; you, or
some of your friends from the country may, perhaps, be troubled with
corns or bunions, and I can assure you t'.iat Professor Rootzcmout,
Chiropodist to her Royal Highness the Duchess of Gloucester, and the
rest of the royal family, extracts them with no more pain than corks,
sir. You vdW see that the Professor has had the feet of the ' first of
the land' under his hands, sir. The Bishop of Calcutta certifies
that the Professor has removed a bunion from his great toe, that he
had been suffering a martyrdom from for months; and even the
Prime Minister of the country publicly expresses his gratitude to the
Professor for the eradication of a soft corn that had allowed him no
rest for years. The Professor's specimens in his museum are really
quite marvellous, sir. One he has from a late Lord Mayor of London,
I give you my word, sir, is as big as a spring onion ; but I fear I am
intruding on your valuable time:" and so saying, the enterprising
tradesman -sviped his shoes sereral times on the carpet as he bowed
obsequiously and withdrew.

True to the appointed time, the anxiously-expected leg was sent
home, carefully enveloped in silver paper, and shortly afterwards the
maker arrived to fit it on, and see whether his limb was sufficiently
well-set to be allowed to run alone. When he had fixed it the
man was in raptures with his own handiwork ; and while the Major
paced the room, the limb-maker declared, as he bobbed about to look
at him from every point of view, that the Major's leg was the very
best he had yet made in the same material.

Major Oldsehool was almost as pleased as the man, and exclaimed,
on looking at himself in the pier-glass, that he positively shouldn't
have known his own figure again ; adding, as he thrust the leg for-
ward, and leant his head on one side to look at the calf of it, that no
one could tell it was not his own : and, as he paid the maker, he
expressed himself much indebted to his skill for his improved appear-
ance.

When the artificer had left, the Major gave full vent to his feelings,
and strutted about the room inwardly gloating over the surprise that
the ladies and old Sandboys would feel on beholding him finnly on his
le<-^s once more. Then he wondered however he could have gone
hobbling about on that spindle of a leg so long, with the iron tip
tlmmping, as he went along, like a blind man's stick on the ground;
and he promised himself that immediately after dinner he would
arrange with the Sandboys to be off", the first thing in the morning, to
the Exhibition; for he longed to show himself there with his new leg
quite as much as his Cumberland friends wished to look at the wonders
of the Show.

When the Sandboys did behold the Major's new leg, thoy were one
and all as much astonished as he expected or wished them to be, and
the evening was spent in jests at his ])revious appearance, and in
mirthful remembrances of tlie accident which ha<l brought about the
change. Even the fatalistic Mr. San<lboys was obliged to <lcclare that
Destmy, for once, had done them a good tuin, an<l l)efore retiring to

236 1851 ; or, the adventures of

rest, lie had grown to look upon the past adventure as a propitious
omen, foretelling their speedy attainment of the object they had so
repeatedly sought.

Kor eould Elcy herself help speaking in terms of admiration at the
Major's improved appearance, declaring, that had she not seen him
with his previous wooden substitute, she should never have been aware
of his loss of limb— all of which was so extremely gratifying to the old
soldier, that he felt more delighted with the girl than ever.

Major Oldschool got but little rest that night, for he kept thinking
over and over again of all that had occurred, — muttering to himself,
half unconsciously, when he did doze off, what Elcy had said in
admiration of the'cliange thut had taken place in liim. Nor were the
slumbers of Elcy and Jobby more profound; they both rsn over in
their minds the' several wonders tliey had read of in the Exhibition,
and longed for the daylight that was to reveal to them all the marvels
of the Cr . stal Palace.

Mr. and ]Mrs. Sandboys themselves were up v/ith tl^e sparrows the
next morniiig, alive with the conviction that at last the eventful day
which was to consummate their hopes and wishes had really arrived ;
and in a short time they woidd bi back again to Cumberland in their
quiet mountain home, talking over the many wonders they had seen,
and laughing with their neighboiira over the perplexing adventures
they had gone through.

When the party were assembled, Major Oldschool propounded the
order of the day's amusements, as he had mentally arranged them pre-
viously to rising that morning. He had crammed the day, he said, as full
of sights and shows as he possibly could. He proposed that they should,
first,"a3 it was a lovely morning, go by the steamer up to the New
Houses of Parliament, and having viewed them, and looked in at the
Courts of Law, they were to step over to the Abbey and take a peep at
the Poet's Corner. Then they could have a beautiful stroll through
the parks, pa t Buckingham Palace, and along Constitution Hill, to
the Wellington Statue; after which they could just drop in at the
St. George's Gallery, and see the splendid Diorama of the Holy
Laud, and Cumming's African Hunter's Exhibition; which done, they
could step along to the Chinese Collection, and look at the lady who had
only two inches to stand upon, instead of a foot; and after that, just
to fortify them against the fatigues of the day, they could drop into
M. Mouflet's restaurant, and have a nice little limcheon, for the
Major said it loas whispered that the tepid ices, and soupy jellies,
and Bath buns — strongly resembling their hard and dry relations
the Bath bricks — which were to be had at the Exhibition, could not
be included among the clief-cVoiuvres of the Crystal Palace. After
luncheon, Major Oldschool told them tliey would be ready for a good
four-hours' feast of their eyes at tlie Grand Show; and this over,
he proposed that they should retu-eto M. Soyer's Imposium an 1 have
a nice little dinner of cold meat and pickles in the Baronial Hall,
at the small charge of half-a-guinea a head; and in the evening, he
said, they could take a cab and drive to Leicester- square, and have a
turn round the Great Globe, and be nearly broiled by the gas up

ME. AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 2^7

among the Polar Regions; next, they might step across to !M. Can-
telo's lucubatoi-, and see the process of hatching chickens, which was
remarkably curious, for he load been informed by one of the tirst
physiologists of the age that the young brood invariably evinced an
instinctive attachment to their maternal boiler, striving to nestle
themselves under their parent kettle immediately it began to sing.
And as a conclusion to the day's entertainments, they might all pop
in at the Adelphi, and having passed an hour or two there, they
mifht then be able to get to Vauxhall just in time to see the horse-
manship and fireworks ; and there, after a cold fowl and lobster salad,
by way of a little supper, they could return home ready and thankful
for bed.

The Sandboys were all delighted with the Major's programme for
the day's festivities, and having swallowed a hasty breakfast, and
decked themselves out in their holiday costume, they once more
descended to the parlour, ready to start for the Great Sight, witk
Cursty tidgetting at their heels, in inward fear of something or other
occurring that would once more delay their departure.

At length, however, the whole party were fairly off ; and as Mr.
Sandboys stood on the doorstep, wondering within himself how they
had succeeded in getting even that far towards their destination, he said
thoughtfully to the Major, as he held him by the button-hole, while
Jobby, Elcy, and Mrs. Sandboys went tripping along lightly up the

street, "I'll tell thee what I'll do. Major "

" Yes, yes," answered his friend, " but tell mc as we <i,o, or we
shall miss the ladies."

Cursty paid little or no attention to the Major's impatience, but
still musing, said, '• I'll wager thee a crown, man, that we never get
inside t' Crirt Exhibition to-day."

"Done!" shouted the Major, and he dragged the fatalistic Curatj
Sandboys with him, as he hobbled up the street.

CHAPTER THE LAST.

" Wi' sec tbougbts i' my mind,
Time tbro' llie warl may goe,
And find me still, in twenty years,
TLe same as I'm to day;
'Tis frieiidsiiip bears tlie sway,
And keeps friends i' tbe e'e;
And gin I tliiuk I sue tbee still,
Wlia can part tbee aud me?"

Hong, by Mim TSlamirc.

In a few moments the Sandboys and Major Oldschool were safe on
board the penny "Bee," steaming along the Thames towards tho

■Westminster pier. . , , . .•/• • i i

The -Major, who had found it impossible, with his artificial leg, to
keep up with' the Lidics, had availed himself of the circumstance of

238 1851; oh, the adventures of

his being left alone with Cursty, to paint a vivid picture (as they
hobbled through Hungerford Market) of the solitary state of his
househokl, and the horrors of a life dependent for its comforts and
cnjoyraents on the tender mercies of a selfish old housekeeper, expa-
tiating in the meantime on the sufficiency of his funds to maintain
a wife" in ease, if not in luxury; and winding up with a modest eulo-
gium as to the amiability of his temper — the domesticity of his
habits — and his cat-like love of a quiet hearth.

Mr. Sandboys had just inquired how it was— if such were the bent of
his inclinations — that he remained in a state of wretched bachelor-
hood: and the Major had just answered that it was the very thing he
wished to speak to him about, when a shrill voice suddenly shouted,
" Pay here for the ' Bee,' gents! pay here !"

The demand ha\'ing been complied with, the Major, immediately
he was on board the penny steamer, sought out a retired spot where he
might continue the delicate subject of their preA^ous conversation,
and perceiving that the most quiet part of the vessel was imme-
diately adjoining the line of demarcation between the lovers and the
haters of the " fragrant weed," drew his friend Cursty towards the
gangway : leaning their backs against the funnel, the couple resumed
the tender topic which had recently engaged them.

As the "Bee" went buzzing over the water, the Major made the
father of Elcy his own father-confessor as to the state of his bosom at
that particular moment, declaring the object of his affection to be
none other than that gentleman's daughter.

The simple and unobservant, because unsuspicious, Cursty was
nearly taken off his nautical legs by the announcement : but referring
the Major to Elcy herself for an answer, he confessed that, provided
she saw no cause or impediment, &c., he himself would not be the
man to forbid the banns; whereupon they both grew so interested in
the " momentous question" — the Major intent on making the most of
his qualifications for a good husband, and descanting rapturously on
Miss Elcy's possession of all the requisites for a good wife, and
Cursty Sandboys lost in the pleasure of listening to the praises of his
child — that, though the heat of the funnel at their backs was almost
sufficient to cook an omelette, it was utterly unheeded by them.

Now, gutta percha is a most admirable material, especially adapted
for boats, ropes, and other commodities to be used in the Arctic
regions; but, unfortunately, it has the slight drawback of softening
like " hardbake" at a low temperature, and consequently it is not jxir-
tkularly suited for firemen's helmets, owing to its liability to run
down the faces of the " brigade" like treacle, when exposed to a " terrific
conflagration;" nor is it especially adapted to the manufacture of
shaving-pots, seeing that the infusion of the boiling water is certain
to elongate the vessel into something approximating the form and
apj)earance of a huge German sausage ; and we have known candle-
sticks made of the treacherous " gutta" gutter away with the expiring
" sterine" until nothing was left of the antique candelabrum but a
leathery pancake on the tablecloth; picture-frames, too, composed of the
same uncertain substance have been found, in the dog-days, to suffer

|_ Jr uf^r^'

^

MK, AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 239

almost as much as aldermen from the extreme heat of the weather,
and to grow as limp and bendy at the joints as an acrobat, while
the cornices ran down into a seines of chocolate-coloured stahictitcs.
Nor is the soluble stuff better adapted to the formation of harness,
for gutta percha traces have been occasionally seen, when tlie ther-
mometer stood at 80° in the shade, to elongate like vulcanized
India-rubber, and to leave the vehicle a considerable distant^e
behind the horse which was supposed to be drawing it, while the
whip which was intended for the flagellation of the animal has
gone as soft as a lollipop, and of no more service than a straw ; and
to this catalogue of commodities unfitted to be manufactured in gutta
percha still one other article must be added, and that is — as an Irish-
man would say — wooden legs ; for though legs are intended to run as
well as to walk, it is somewhat inconvenient to find them, on the
least increase of temperature, run away altogether, and the limb which
was meant as a crutchlike support give way, for all the world as
though the wearer had become suddenly afflicted with the " rickets,"
his gutta percha leg gradually bending in or bulging out, like a
barley-sugar bird-cage at an evening party.

Presently the tender thread of Major Oldschool's discourse was
rudely snapped asunder by a kind of echo duct performed by the
captain of the " Busy Bee" in deep bass, and the call-boy in shrill
treble, the burden of which was — "ease her! ease /«cr/— back her!
back her I— stop her! stoj) her!'''— and then bump went the vessel
against the Westminster pier, making the barge wabble on the water
like a yeast dumpling in a saucepan.

Until this moment the Major, whose back had been resting agamst
the funnel, had not attempted to stir a foot, and no sooner was he
roused from his reverie by the cry of " Now, then, any one for West-
minster/" than, seizing Mr. Sandboys by the arm, he cried, " Here we
are. Come along, quick! or we shall be carried off to Chelsea;" and
made a desperate effort to reach the plank that connected the " Bee
with the pier ; but no sooner did he trust the weight of his body to
the treacherous gutta-percha limb, which the heat of the funnel had
by this time rendered as limp as a stale sugar-stick m a confec-
tioner's window, than it bent under him like a soldier's ])enny cane,
and down went the Major on his side, dragging the tcrnhed tursty

along with him. , , , n \

The Major was so unprepared for the mishap, that he was utterly
unaware of the cause of his sudden fall, until, on attempting to get up,
and trusting once more to his " gummy" leg, he was agam precnpi-
tated on top of the bewildered Cursty, before that gentleman had
time to rise. On looking to the state of his new Imd., h..wever, t l.c
problem was speedily solved, for he found that Ins gutta percha calf
softened by the heat of the funnel, ha.l run into his boo , while hin
artificial ankle had swollen into a " mod.l gout, wh.h- what w.us ..ngi-
nally the thick part of the leg, had been attenuate into a mere
tendon, no thicker than a harp-stniig.

ilajdr Oldschool raved at all new-fangled invcutionH, and voxvc»l,

240 I ''-'51 ; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF

a? lie clasped his head with vexation, that there was nothing like
wood, after all, and called himself an idiot for allowing himself to be
talked into any such "tomfoolery," while the passengers laughed
violently at the catastrophe ; and even the Sandboys, vexed as they
felt at the further postponement of their visit to the Crystal Palace,
could not refrain from taking part in the merriment excited on
the occasion.

To proceed to the Exhibition with such a leg was utterly impos-
sible, and to the Sandboys' great discomfiture nothing remained to be
done but to have the uni-ped Major carried to a cab, and conveyed
back to Craven-street as rapidly as possible.

INIr. Cursty Sandboys, as usual, saw that the calamity had beeii
planned by some of the invisible sprites and mischievous elfins in the
employ of that blind and spiteful old maid passing under the name of
Destiny or Fate, and whom he felt thoroughly convinced were
having a hearty demoniac laugh in their phantom sleeves at the many
annoyances they were causing him; and no sooner was he once more
located within the parlour of Major Oldschool, than he registered a
vow on the ceiling of that apartment, that he would never again
move a leg to get to that bothering Crystal Palace. It was no use
talking to him — go home he would — and people might laugh as they
pleased.

That evening, as the Major and Cursty sat enjoying their toddy after
the family had retired to rest, and Mr. Sandboys was growing eloquent,
under the influence of the whisky punch, on the many beauties of his
native Buttermere, Major Oldschool begged Cursty to defer his return
to Cumberland until he (the Major) had escorted Elcy to the Exhi-
bition, and availed himself of that opportunity to speak to the young
lady on the subject of their morning's conversation ; for, as he said,
half laughing, he could not think of marrying a lady who was un-
acquainted with the wonders of the Exhibition — he might as well pick
a wife from a convent at once, and unite himself with one who had had
her head shaved, and foresworn the world and every kind of sliow.
As an additional inducement, moreover, the Major promised that, if
he were fortunate enough to gain the young lady's consent, he would
return with the family, be married at Lanthwaite-green Church, as
his old friend had been, and pass the rest of his days with the family
at Buttermere.

As soon as the Major was provided Avith a new limb, he accom-
panied Elcy and her brother to the Great Exhibition, and there, as he
led her through all the countries of the civilized globe, he endea-
voured to reveal the state of his feelings — now, as they paused
for a moment in France, he asked her whether she thought she
could be happy with him for life — and now, as they rambled through
China, he inquired whether she fancied she would be very miser-
able if she had him for a companion for the remainder of her days.
Elcy replied that he had been so kind to them all, that she was
sure she should always be glad to be in his company, and that

MR, AND MRS. CURSTY SANDBOYS. 211

ever since her first acquaintance with him, she had esteemed him as
one of her father's best friends — all which so encouraged the Major,
that he availed himself of the solitude of America to beg to be
informed whether her esteem for him as a friend could make her love
him as a husband?

The young lady was wholly unprepared for such an inquiry, and as
she thought of the disparity of their ages, she hurried on and pretended
to be so absorbed with the ingenuity of the sewing machine, as not to
have heard the question ; the Major, however, had no sooner led his
fair companion into Russia, than he whispered the same tender ques-
tion in her ear as she stood admiring the beauty of the malachite
doors. Elcy, finding at last that it was impossible to evade the ques-
tion, begged of the Major not to press her for an answer, telling him
that the remembrance of his great kindness would always insure him
her best regard, and as she said so, the frank-hearted girl shook him
by the hand in token of her friendship; all of which the sanguine
Major construed into a modest assent to his proposal, and he plucked
up his shirt collar, as he felt as if the snows of some thirty winters had
been suddenly swept away from his head. On the return home of
the party, after their day's tour of the world, the !Major announced at
tea that he proposed passing the remainder of his days in Buttermere,
and it was accordingly arranged between himself and Cursty that they
should leave Loudon for Cumberland with the least possible delay.

But the departure of the >Sandboys and the Major was doomed to
be delayed once more ; for ]Mrs. Cursty no sooner received a full and
impartial account from Elcy and Jobby, of all the many curiosities
contained beneath the huge glass case of the Crystal Palace, than she
made up her mind she would have one peep at it before she left.

And when Mrs. Sandboys had feasted her eyes on the bau([Uot of
the works of Industry of all nations, she in her tuin came back
with a glowng account of its many marvels, so that poor Cursty
began inwardly to long for a peep at it himself, but remend>ering the
vow he had registered on the ceiling, he still pretended to be firm,
though in his heart he was really waiting for his friends to jircss
him to abandon his resolution, and to find some little excuse by
which he could, with any show of honour, sneak out of the determi-
nation he had come to; and in the hope of their so dt)ing, he managed
to put of!" their departure, day after day, until at last, on the Monday
morning fixed for their return to Buttermere, as Cursty sat at breuk-
fa,st, sipping his hot tea hastily, so as to be in time for the train
to the North, he confessed it would be a shame for him to go back
without seeing the Exhibition. Accordingly, he asked the Major if,
as a man of honour, he thought he could resc-ind his vow, Kuying that
it struck him that, as he had taken an oath he would not stir a foot
to get to the Great Exhibition, that did not i>rcvcMt his bring earrird
there. The Major smiled at tlic equiv.tcation, and tilling his friend
that he ini,ht do so, and still prcs.-rve his honour unsullifil, Mr.
.Sandboys consented that the cal) which was th<ii at the door to
couvcy them to the station on their way back to tli« ir mountain

2-X2 1B51 ; OR, the adventures of the sandboys.

home, sliould go round . by the Exhibition, and drop him at the
transept, so that he might pop his head in, and just be able to say
that he had seen it, after all.

The Major who, -while Cursty was coquetting with his conscience,
stood at the window, entertaining himself ■\^^th the perusal of the
morning paper, which he had bought to lighten the tedium of the long
journey, no sooner heard the announcement of his friend's altered
determination, than he shouted out, " It's no use now, Cursty ! for here
is a long account of the closing of the Exhibition last Saturday." Mr.
Sandboy's jaw fell like a carriage dog s, and, knocking his " wide-
awake" on his head, he hurried into the cab, and in a minute the
Sandboys family, in company with the jMajor, were on their way back
to Buttermere, Cursty vowing that if there was ever another Exhi-
bition, he would never think of coming up to London again to enjoy
himself.

THE END.

Savill & Edwards, Printers, 4, Chandos Street, CoTeut Garden.

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