Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 22: what you’re looking at

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JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. 9 afford me an opportunity of bestowing that testi- monial of my affectionate gratitude: for, seizing me by the hand, he led me hurriedly along the street. Ino longer felt tired—nor did I feel that my feet were cut and bleeding, my shoes and stockings being completely worn through. We passed out of that street, through several thorough- fares, into a maze of lanes and alleys, with nu- merous courts leading out—and which district my companion informed me was called Clerkenwell. At length we turned into a court narrower and darker than any other which I had as yet seen— and stopped at a door, at which my companion knocked. It was opened by an elderly woman with grizzly gray hair, and whose countenance of flaming red was rendered still more rubicund by the light of the candle which she carried in her hand. “Lend us this light,” said my friend: and snatching it from her, he led me into a room open- ing from the narrow passage on the ground floor. —— CHAPTER IIIf. MY NEW FRIEND. THE place into which I thus found myself con- ducted, was dirty to a degree, and wretchedly fur- nished with a miserable ricketty table, half-a-dozen rush-bottomed chairs in an advanced state of dilapidation, and a desk covered with papers at the curtainless window. <A door communicated with an inner room; and as it stood open, I caught a glimpse of a bed stretched upon the floor. Such was the result of the first glance which I threw around: but my attention was speedily called to a more cheering spectacle, as my new friend, opening a cupboard, proceeded to place a loaf, part of a Dutch cheese, and some cold meat upon the table. He then told me to “peg away,” while he went and fetched some beer ;—saying which, he quitted the house. In a few minutes he returned, bring- ing a quart of beer in one hand, and a bottle half- filled with spirits in the other. I gladly partook of the former liquor: for now that I was once more seated, I experienced a return of that sense of weariness amounting almost to exhaustion, which had compelled me to sit down upon the door-step where my new acquaintance had found me. “Now, youngster,” he said, so soon as I had finished my supper,—and I believe I never ate so ravenously before in all my life,—“you can go and get to bed as soon as you like; for I see that you are thoroughly knocked up. ‘You may take possession of my crib; and I will make myself a shake-down in this room when I have done my glass and my pipe. We will postpone all talk upon business till to-morrow morning. But, by the bye, what’s your name P” * Joseph Wilmot,” I answered. “And a very fine one it is too—especially the Wilmot. Mine is Taddy Mr. Taddy to those that Tam not familiar with; but Tom Taddy to intimate friends. And now good night.” I expressed my thanks to Mr. Taddy for his kindness towards me: he bade me take the candle, as he could smoke and drink in the dark until I 2 had got to bed; and I accordingly retired to the inner room. This contained little more than the bed upon the floor—a large earthenware pan upon a chair, to wash in—and a huge stone jug to con- tain water. .Mr. Taddy’s lodging was. therefore of the most wretched description: but I was too thankful for having obtained an asylum to suffer myself to find fault with it—and too tired to do so, even if I had been inclined. I lay down; and in a few minutes was fast asleep. When I awoke in the morning, my first impression was that I was still at school, and that I had been hurried through the varied phases of a dream in which whole days appeared to have passed: but as L looked around that wretched room, I was too forcibly reminded of the sad change which had taken place in my condition, to be able to doubt its reality any longer. My heart sickened at the thought; and in comparison with the. poverty- stricken place where I now found myself, the dormitory at the school appeared a perfect para- dise. In order to escape from the bitterness of my reflections, I rose and dressed myself as quickly as I could; and scarcely had I finished, when Mr. Taddy threw open the door, exclaim- ing, “ Well, youngster, I hope you liked your quarters >” “Yes, thank you,” I answered. “ But I do not see where you have slept; and 1 am afraid that I must have deprived you % “Of my bed?” he ejaculated. ‘ Nonsense! I slept where I tumbled down :’—then, perceiving that I was opening my eyes in astonishment, he went on to say, “ Yes, it’s quite true. I drank all that stuff which the publican calls gin, but which is two-thirds vitriol ; and where I fell, there I lay—and there I slept. Now for a wash—then to breakfast—and then to business. You light the fire, Joe; and put the kettle on to boul. You will find a couple of herrings in the cupboard: put them in the skillet, and hang them in front of the fire.” All these instructions I obeyed as well as I was able; and when Mr. Taddy had finished his ablu- tions, he recreated himself with a pipe until break- fast was ready. All the time the meal lasted, I wondered what could be the nature of that business to which he alluded, and in which I was evidently to play a part. I was not kept very long in sus- pense: for so soon as I had cleared away the breakfast things, my companion said, “ Now, Joe, seat yourself at that desk, and write down some- thing to give me a specimen of your hand.” ** What shall I write?” I inquired. “ Anything.. Only three or four words, that I may see what sort of a fist you make of it, and whether the coveys that I do business with can read it. Write one or two of your school-copies, if you like, in a good bold round hand. I write such a precious scrawl that I do believe it’s the reason my business hasn’t taken better than it has ; and that’s the reason too why I resolved to employ aclerk. So Isaw that you were a likely lad to | sult me,—and now to work.” accordingly sat down at the desk; and in pursuance of the hint which Mr. Taddy had given me, I wrote these three favourite school-copies in my best round hand :—“ Virtue is commendable.” —‘ Honesty is the best policy.”—“ Integrity is its own reward.” Being well satisfied with my per- GomiGcvooks (Cc) im