The Steam-Packet: A Tale of the River and the Ocean — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

48 THE STEAM PACKET, encountered Mr, Pifpafinthealley. ‘‘ But,” he added, after a moment, ‘‘T am in hopes that this foreboding will not prove true; for I re- member that my fetch was once seen in the stocks, when I was a very young man; and of course youcouldn’t suppose that I was really there hance particularly as I never did rob the orchard. Howe you need not let this matter go beyond ourselves.” And they separated for the moment—Mr. Rumtutch to obtain a glass of brandy-and-water, and Mr. Pifpaf to make memoranda of this history of a fetch, for a future pamphlet,—which (we may as well ob- serve here) has since appeared, under the auspices of Mr. Humm Bugg—and very good auspices too, as the reader is doubtless inclined to believe. Meantime the packet had left the wharf, and was now threading its way amidst the mazes of the shipping which thronged the pool. The captain of the vessel, whose name was Bloomfield, was standing upon the paddle-box, conveying signs with his fingers to a boy who was posted above the hatchway of the engine-room, to which he (the afore- said small boy) transmitted the directions of his commander by means of his own shrill lungs. ‘“‘What do they mean by ‘ease her’?’’ demanded Aramintha of her lover, as the treble tones of the small boy’s tongue, which just then gave utterance to the phrase, fell upon her ears. _ “They are afraid the engine will fatigue itself, my dear girl,” answered the captain, who was anxiously listening to the conversation which took place between Mrs. Pifpaf and the tailor. : ‘‘Dear me! how beautiful is this scene!’ murmured ‘Hie senti- mental Aramintha. ‘‘ What sweet vessel is that, with all its sails set, and which is now ‘ walking the waters like a thing of life’ 2?” ‘That, dear?—oh! that is a collier,” replied the captain, with an amorous glance, - ‘“‘ Aramintha, my love,” said Mrs. Pifpaf, turning towards her eldest daughter, and addressing her in a somewhat loud tone of voice, ‘I am so glad now that I didn’t bring the six large pots of raspberry jam, ~ and the four small, and the three pots of currant jelly, and. the five bottles of walnut catsup, and the pickles: his lordship says it is so very vulgar to encumber one’s self with such-like things.”’ “Oh! certainly,” ejaculated the soz-disant nobleman. “Stop her!’’ shouted the small boy, at this ‘pout of the conver- > sation. “Stop her!—and why?” inquired the bewitching Aramintha ; ‘* surely there ’s nothing wrong—is there? Where is my dear father ? where is Belinda—where is my Byron? has that, too, deserted me?” GComicbooks.c (@)