The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

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ZZ Tl ODDO Oo a THE MYSTERIES OF THE OOURT. at the thought of being thus able so effectually to deceive the old man in respect to who he really was. “ Have you been long in London, sir ?’’: inquired the Burker, speaking slowly, and measuring his words as much as possible, for fear that he should let out any favourite expression of his own and which might raise Carnabie’s euspicions. ‘Only a matter of three or four days, sir,” re- sponded the sexton. “I presume you live in London, sir P”’ Yes,” answered the Barker: “I’m a man of business———” ‘‘ Perhaps a lawyor, sir?” said the sexton in- quiringly. “Well, I doa little in the conveyancing line now and then,” rejoined the Burker. “ And very profitable too, sir, no doubt P” said the sexton, who was pleased as well as proud of having fallen in with such good company. “ Quite right—quite right, sir |” eaid Mr. Barnes. “I do manage to get a good livin’ by the transfer of property.” “T suppose you attend the Courta, sir—the Law Courts, I mean P” continued Jonathan. “Not more than I can help,” responded the Burker. “That's a atmosphere that don’t agree with me.” “Too hot and close, sir?’ suggested Mr. Car- nabie, who was inclined to be chatty and to make himself agreeable. ‘ “Well, it don’t agree with me werry well,” re- joincd Mr. Barnes: “it always gives me a queer feelin’ But perhaps you’d like to take a drop of summut, sir?” he suddenly interrupted himeelf, just as he was on the very point of adding that the queer sensation he alluded to very much resembled a crick in the neck. “T think I’d rather not take anything, sir, till I get to my lodgings,” said Jonathan: “ but if you would condescend to step in with me and drink a quict glasa of brandy-and-water, I shall feel very proud. My landlord is a superior sort of man he is aechoolmaster and parish-clerk——— Mr. Chubb by name. Perhaps you have heard of him, sir?” “T’ve heerd speak of a man named Chubb, which is famous for making locks,” answered the Burker ; “and I can’t abear——” But here he checked himself again; and the truth was that old Jonathan Carnabie did not take parti- cular notice of the Burker’s bad grammar and pecau- liar phraseology, so pleased and flattered was he at having fallen in with a legal gentleman of such great respectability. And then too, it was the old sexton’s first appearance in London: he had been accus- tomed to the country all his life—and he was in- clined to view everything and everybody pertaining to the metropolis in a superior light. The Burker —more and more convinced that the mystery of his disguise was absolutely impenetrable, and re- solved to amuse as well as benefit himself at Jona- than Carnabie’s expense—began holding forth to him on the beauties and wonders of the metropolis, with the idea of rendering himself as agreeable as possible. “This here is a werry fine road,” said Mr. Barnes; “as straight as a harrow right up to Oxford Street till you come to the corner of the Tottenham Court Road and 8t. Giles’s. You see 117 this here gate on your right hand leading into the Park? Well, it’s Tyburn.” “God bless me!” said old Jonathan. where the people used to be hanged P” “The werry identical same,” responded Mr. Barnes. “There’s many a fino feller has rode a “ Not horse there foaled by a acorn, and danced upon no-. think amidst werry great applause. My grand- father-———”’ “ Most likely saw many such sights?” said Mr. Carnabie inquiringly. “Yes—he was rayther fond of ’em,” rejoined the Burker, who had been upon the point of letting out that his respectable ancestor was one of the individuals who had given a terrible notoriety to the district of Tyburn. “Pray, sir, what’s your idea of the punishment of death ?” “Why,” answered Jonathan, who was imbued with all antiquated prejudices, “I think that when aman has done a great deal of wickedness, he ought to be put out of the world.” “Quite right, sir — quite right!” said tho | Burker emphatically. “I'd hang ’em all, the scoundrels! I suppose you have come up to Lon. don, sir, on a little business P” “Yes,” answered Jonathan; “and I’ve got all my expenses paid, as well as good lodgings found for me: so that I’ve got a little opportunity of en- joying myself in a quiet way.” “A country gentleman, I presume, sir?” said the Burker, with as much of an insinuating tone as he could possibly assume. “ Not exactly a gentleman,” rejoined old Car. nabie, who was a man of truth. “I hope you won't think the worse of me, sir, when I tell you that I’m a parish clerk P” “Why, if there’s a class of men that I cotton to more than all others,” exclaimed the Burker as if in admiration, “ it's the werry respectable one that you belongs to. I've always found ’em a set of intelligent say-nothink-to-nubody set of chaps; and at this present speaking I’ve got three cousins and two uncles which is parish-clerke themselves. You should just see how fond the Archbishop of Westminster is of my cousin Tom !” “‘ Dear me!”’ ejaculated Mr. Carnabie: “I was not aware that there was an Archbishop of West- minster.” “To be sure!” ejaculated the Burker: “ he lives just t’other side of the bridge—a beautiful palace, with the Noted Stout House on one side, and the famous sassage-shop on t’other. I'll see if I can’t get my cousin Paul—Tom I mean—to introduce you to his lordship.” . Mr. Carnabie was quite confounded at the idea of such an honour: and when he had somewhat recovered from its overpowering effects, he ex- pressed his acknowledgments in suitable terms. “Oh! I can introduce you toa many fine folks,” continued the Burker. ‘“ There’s the Chief Judge at the Old Bailey, and two or three of the magis- trates, which knows me uncommon well. How long, sir, do you think of staying in London P” “It all depends on circumstances,” replied the sexton. “I am not entirely my own master. But excuse me, sir, for not being more confidential on the business that has brought me up to town: it’s quite of a private nature———” “Pray don’t make any apology, sir,” inter- rupted Barney. “You're quite right to keep COMIC DOG (CO