The Uncommercial Traveller

e cherub about, and what are we all about, when poor Mercantile Jack is having his brains slowly knocked out by penny-weights, aboard the brig Beelzebub, or the barque Bowie-knife—when he looks his la

ncarn

there would presently arise from both sides of the Atlantic so vociferous an invocation of the sweet little cherub who sits calculating aloft, keeping watch on the market

the most unreasonable of men, f

ly audible down in holds, stowing and unshipping cargo; he was winding round and round at capstans melodious, monotonous, and drunk; he was of a diabolical aspect, with coaling for the Antipodes; he was washing decks barefoot, with the breast of his red shirt open to the blast, though it was sharper than the knife in his leathern girdle; he was looking over bulwarks, all eyes and hair; he was standing by at the shoot of the Cunard steamer, off to-morrow, as the stocks in trade of several butchers, poulterers, and fishmongers, poured down into the ice-house; he was coming aboard of other vessels, with his kit in a tarpaulin bag, attended by plunderers to the very last moment of his shore-going existence. As though his senses, when released from the uproar of the elements, were under obligation to be conf

distinguished corps was short, and as my personal bias in the capacity of one of its members has ceased, no suspicion will attach to my evidence that it is an admirable force. Besides that it is composed, without favour, of the best men tha

n I took up my lantern to follow Mr. Superintendent to the traps that were set for Jack. In Mr. Superintendent I saw, as anybody might, a tall, well-looking, well-set-up man of a soldierly bearing, with a cavalry air, a good chest, and a resolute but not by any means ungentle face. He carried in his hand a plain black walking-stick of

ead wall, apparently some ten miles long, Mr. Superintendent struck upon the ground, and the wall opened and shot out, with milit

ght, Sh

right

ght, Tr

right

ickear

am I

with

s,

remark, had a skilful and quite professional way of opening doors—touched latches delicately, as if they were keys of musical instruments—opened eve

sitting over a fire, waiting for Jack. Now, it was a crouching old woman, like the picture of the Norwood Gipsy in the old sixpenny dream-books; now, it was a crimp of the male sex, in a checked shirt and without a coat, reading a newspap

here?’ says Sharpeye, gene

ot a blessed sowl!’ (

t I hear a woman’s step go up-stai

is on’y Betsy White, surr. Ah! you know Betsy, surr

testing face, of an intention to compensate herself for the present trial by grinding Jack finer than usual when he

indicted three times. This man’s a regular bad one likewi

e back, thin, since I was in this hous

with the exact individuality of any gentleman encountered, one of these two is sure to proclaim from the outer air, like a gruff spectre, that Jackson is not Jackson, but knows himself to be Fogle; or that Canlon is Walker’s brother, against whom there was not sufficient evidence; or that the man who says he never was at sea since he was a boy, came ashore from a v

leaving everybody relapsing into waiting for Jack), we started

the rest, entitled Snug, and reserved for mates and similar good company. About the room, some amazing coffee-coloured pictures varnished an inch deep, and some stuffed creatures in cases; dotted among the audience, in Sung and out of Snug, th

eps, disappear through the window. Still, if all hands had been got together, they would not have more than half-filled the room. Observe, however, said Mr. Licensed Victualler, the host, that it was Friday night, and, besides, it was getting on for twelve, and Jack had gone aboard. A sharp and watchful man, Mr. Licensed Victualler, the host, with tight lips and a complete edition of Cocker’s arithmetic in each eye. Attended to his business himself, he said. Always on the spot. When he heard of talent, trusted nobody’s account of it, but went off by rail to see it. If true talent, engaged it. Pounds a week for talent—four pound—five pound. Banjo Bones was undoubted talent. Hear this instrument that was going to play—it was real talent! In truth it was very good; a kind of piano-accordion, played by a young girl of a delicate prettiness of face, figure, and dress, that made the audience look coarser. She sang to the instrument, too; first, a song about village bells, and how they chimed; then a song about how I went to sea

in with military salute—for Dark Jack. True, Trampfoot. Ring the wonderful stick, rub the wo

ic-house, and there, in a stiflingly close atmosphere, were Dark Jack, and Dark Jack’s delight, his white unlovely Nan, sitting against the

uggested why not strike up? ‘Ah, la’ads!’ said a negro sitting by the door

s master of the ceremonies, he called all the figures, and occasionally addressed

e! (Hoy!) Three. Gent come for’ard with a lady and go back, hoppersite come for’ard and do what yer can. (Aeiohoy!) Bal-loon say, and leetle lemonade. (Dat hair nigger by ’um fireplace ’hind a’ time, shake it out o’ yerselbs, gib ’ell a brea

with a great show of teeth, and with a childish good-humoured enjoyment that was very prepossessing. They generally kept together, these poor fellows, said Mr. Superintendent, because they were at a disadvantage singly, and liable to slights in the neighbouring streets. But, if I were Light Jack, I should be very slow to interfere oppressively wit

der than by the corporation: the want of gaslight in the most dangerous and infamous of these places being quite unworthy of so spirited a town. I need describe but two or three of the houses in which Jack was waited for as specimens of the rest. Many we attained by noisome passages so profoundly dark that we felt our way with our han

ing by a fire. One of them had a male child in her arms. On a stool among them was a swar

’ says Mr. Superintend

entlemen are going to treat us la

ere!’ say

hat!’ says

confide to himself, ‘Meggisson

aying his hand on the shoulder of

nio,

does he

it of music. No harm

foreign

d. You’re a Spaniard

Span

you was to talk to him till doomsday.’ (Triumphant

play so

ething, Antonio. You ain’t asha

ght any money in with him, I am afraid he will never take it out, and it even strikes me that his jacket and guitar may be in a bad way. But, the look of the young

ly declaring, regardless of remonstrance from her friends, that she knowed it to be Law, that whoever took a child from its mother of his own will, was bound to stick to it. The uncommercial sense of being in a rather ridiculous position with the poor little child beginning to be frightened, was relieved by my worthy friend and fellow-constable, Trampfoot; who, laying hands on the article as i

r in another Entry, where several people were sitting round a fire in just the same way. It was a dirty and offensive place, with some ragged clothes drying in it; but th

ent, with a comprehensive lo

m the curtseying woman of the ho

stered as a commo

, s

ne) puts in the pertinent i

ye,’ rejoin the woman and my good

are you

r pretence of coughing, and adds, a

, so Sharpeye, who kno

ere makes eight, who

peye, he’s a

he do for

ply upon himself, and shortly an

nce at him I become—but I don’t know why—vaguely reminded of Woolwich, Chatham, Portsmouth, and Do

t young man, sir

What i

rter,

and take that young man. Which in course of time he does: feeling at perfect ease about fin

set forth on a draped chest of drawers masking the staircase, was such a profusion of ornamental crockery, that it would have furnished forth a handsome s

’am, how

gentlemen, sweetly. Charmingly, c

r this boy to be writing his co

he has been to the Play with a young friend for his diversion, and he combinates his im

ended stirring the fire, the old lady so approved it. There she sat, rosily beaming at the copy-book and the bo

was abominable; the seeming poverty of it, diseased and dire. Yet, here again, was visitor or lodger—a man sitting before the fire, like the rest of them

t needlework at a table in this room. Says Trampfoot to F

retorts Trampfoot, a

e witch, shaking her head, and set

. Witch sisterhood all, stitch, stitch. First Witch has a circle round each eye. I fancy it like the beginning of the dev

t behind the table, down by the side of her, there? Wit

ed not to disturb the child, she lets it drop again. Thus we find at last th

how long are they goin

ng to have supper presently. See t

ith their eyes, as for a charmed winding-sheet. Some grim discourse ensues, referring to the mistress of the cave, who will be released from jail to-morr

lready grown larger, and she hungrily and thirstily looked out beyond me into the dark doorway, to see

Jack greater benefit of fire and candle aboard ship, through my mind’s wandering among the vermin I had seen. Afterwards the same vermin ran all over my sleep. Evermore, when on a breezy day I s