Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 286: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

288 ‘No intrusion, believe me,’ cried Tomkins, his long thin legs trembling as he spoke. “T could not think of being a witness to your affectionate interview, my dear sir,” said Jack. “So I will bid you good morning.” ‘Mr. Tomkins! Where are you” came a shrill voice. ‘« Now, don’t go, there’s a good fellow,” pleaded Tomkins, “and J’ll introduce you to her.” ‘Some other time,” said Jack. ‘‘ I do not feel equal to the task of confronting the lady.”’ “T beg——Oh, lor’! here she is. booked !”’ Jack glided quickly away behind the tree, against which the old gentleman had stood, and Mr. Tomkins turned to confront a tall, ill- tempered looking lady, who at that moment ap- peared in the bend of the path. | ‘Oh, you are there, are you ?”’ she exclaimed, as soon as she caught sight of the old gentle- man. “Yes, my dear,” answered Tomkins, meekly. “ And I to wait all day long for you coming home to dinner. Oh, goodness gracious! there’s a pretty mess you are in!” And the lady held up her hands in horrified amazement, Tomkins stood trembling before her, in speech- less terror. — ‘¢ You nasty, vile, wretched, disreputable, un- feeling”’ : “My dear.” ‘‘ Don’t dear me, sir. How did you get in that state? What have you been doing?” . “My dear, 1”’ ‘Don’t dear me, Mr, Tomkins. I’m not your dear, or anybody else’s. Was ever a poor woman compelled to put up with suchastupid dolt? Mr. Tomkins, your goings on is enough to vex the temper ofasaint. There’sa state! there’s a—— Oh! you villian !”’ | And Mrs. Tomkins, overcome with her feelings, shook her hands in Mr. Tomkins’ face, and stamped her foot upon the rod. ‘ [t’s all owing to this stupid fishing. But Ill put a stop to it! Vl break every rod, and burn every line. Oh, you dirty, unfeeling man! Look at yourself, ain’t you ashamed of yourself! There s a sight for a poor unfortunate woman to look upon! Mud and*filth, and soaked to the skin! But you may clean yourself, and wash your own | clothes, Mr. Tomkins. I'll not do it, nor shall the servant. If you will fall into the water, in your stupid eagerness for fish catching, you may suffer for it.” ‘So Ido, my dear. But ’’—— “Don’t ‘but’ me, Mr. Tomkins! Don't speak to me—don’t look at me! I’m ashamed of you, sir! Vm disgusted at you! I’m—l’m —oh dear! oh dear! Why did I ever become Mrs. Tomkins ?” Whether it was the words of his spouse, or the brandy of Jack that roused the meek spirit of the old angler, it is hard to say ; but when the old lady, for want of breath, came to a pause, Mr, Tomkins drew his lank form up, and, looking into his wife’s face, exclaimed— “T’ll tell you, ma’am. It was because” “ What, you vile man? ” ‘‘ Because you couldn’t get anybody else fool (\ “e atti i a LV Vm) SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. enough to have you,” cried the old gentleman. ‘'That’s why you became Mrs. Tomkins.” “Oh !”’ gasped the lady, as if the explanation had fairly taken her breath away. “Oh, you old wretch! You—you tell me this ?” *“T do,” said Tomkins. “Because I couldn’t get anybody else!” shrieked Mrs. Tomkins, “Oh, I shall faint! I know I shall die!” “T wish you, would,” said Tomkins, in a loud voice. “You do, you villain, do you?” cried his wife. ‘‘ Yes, I expect you do. You have long tried to kill me with your unkindness. You would murder me, only you know you dare not. But what can I expect of a man who wastes half his time catching poor little fish—makes sport of their sufferings? Why, that tells what you are—that tells what you are, Mr. Tomkins!” And Mrs. Tomkins took out her handkerchief and held it to her eyes—a proceeding which seemed to cause Mr. Tomkins a certain amount of uneasiness; for his tall body shrank some inches, and the look of indignation he had sum- moned to his face gave place to one of the utmost concern. | He put one of his long arms forward, and with his thin hand gently drew the kerchief down from her face. soe “My dear Mrs. Tomkins,” he exclaimed, “don’t take on so! Pray, don’t, for my sake. I can’t bear to see you weep—to hear your ’?—— “Go home, sir! go home at once!” cried the lady. “Don’t speak to me! don’t pretend to feel forme! It’s all hypocrisy, sir! You care for nobody, you unfeeling man! I’m a neglected woman ! I’m a——. ' But I won’t talk to you here, sir. Go home, and make yourself decent, and then J’ll talk to you; then [’ll let you know what I think of your conduct!» Don’t stand there looking at me, but do as I bid you. I’m not equal to the task of making you ac- quainted with my feelings here. But go home ; and then, sir, you shall know what I think— what I feel—what I mean.” — And the lady flounced away, leaving poor Tomkins to gather up his tackle and follow her, which he did with a very trembling hand and woe-begone countenance, and slowly followed in the track of his wife. a) 4, As he left the spot, Jack came from his con- cealment, and, shrugging his shoulders, followed after them. | nk CHAPTER XCVIII. ~ THE ANGLER AND THE WRANGLER—JACK IN THE BOX, THE wrathful Mrs, Tompkins never once turned her head to gaze upon the dripping and muddy form of her spouse, as she lead the way along the banks of the stream to the high road, | JOOK Gomic poor,