The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 216: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES, } i i Hii si a m " Hit a i — i — Le Zen WS Ck hoa \s Ze er, is YU) —V]aAaLZ LIES ILIA 4 1 Wea LAAN —— = "1 ') cd a >= fy; “aa ma | iy a i 5) J ‘ — <4 — I hin SA s ss SRA G, Af a oh, fl" 7% rs (] . van as at tribute our mite to so good a cause as that which you have propounded to us. Tor the present we can do nothing better than drink, in brimming tumblers, the health of our other new and esteemed friend Mr. Ichabod Paxwax.” The face of the little gentleman, which had already acquired an additional rubicundity from the wine he had drunk, now became absolutely purple through excitement; and the toast having been duly honoured, he responded to the same in the following terms :— “ Dear brother Sneaksby and Christian friends, I thank you kindly. I’m a man of few words, but very capacious thoughts. My reverend leader in the good cause has given youasketch of his life. [ll give you mine. Inscrutable decrees made me adopt the cheesemongering and bacon line. Like brother Sneaksby, 1 made money rapidly—but spent it faster still. I mean I got into debt. My extrava- gance was wonderful; and I am not ashamed now, because I glory in the present when compared with 26 e WE Ee =| : ip ia ey —_---- ’ AY NY <i i “ ee a: ie i) ay ih r iy i the past,—I am not ashamed now, I say, to confess that for a matter of twelve years I went to bed drunk every night of my life. Liquor was as necessary to me as victuals—or more so. Well, this couldn’t last —and it didn’t. The Philistines put executions into my house—the Ammonites took me to gaol. I was like Lazarus—but even worse; for I had no rich man’s crumbs to eat. Like orother Sneaksby again, I was turned adrift naked and in want. As I passed the tavern and ale-houses, I would have given my soul for a draught of strong beer: I was sick unto death for a pint of ale. But I could obtain none. Being sore athirst, I entered the famous inn where I was wont to expend my gold: I craved credit for some drink—but the waiter thrust me forth into the street. I anathematised him in the bitter- ness of my spirit; and I denounced the tavern as a whitened sepulchre. Thus was my soul relieved of a part of the load that lay upon it. But still the thirst was torturing me; and I was fain to seek the 201 (C(O) nn) (@ 6)(0)©) KS). (Cc)