The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 255: what you’re looking at

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

“Thank you.” “No, I shall do,” said the other grazier, in reply to a mute imitation from Todd to sit down in the shaving chair, “I shall do pretty well, I thank you, till to-morrow.” “Very good, sir. Hope I shall have the pleasure of your patronage another time, as well as your recommendation, gentlemen.” “You may depend.” said the grazier, who had been shaved, “that we shall do all we can for you, and shall not lose sight of you.” Todd bowed like a Frenchman, and the graziers left the shop. No sooner was the door closed upon them, than his countenance altered, as if by magic, and the most woefully diabolical expression came over it, as with eyes flashing with rage, he cried— 33 “Curses on you both! But I will have one of you, yet. May the bitterest curse of—but, no matter, I “What, sir?” said Johanna. “What do you say, sir?” “Hell’s fury! what is that to you? Do dare you, you devil’s cub, to ask me what I said? By all that’s furious, I’ll tear out your teeth with red-hot pincers, and scoop your eyes from their gory sockets with an old oyster knife, Damn you, I’II—I’ll flay you!” Johanna shrank back aghast. The pure spirit of the young girl, that had been used to little else but words of love and kindness, started at the furious and brutal abuse that was launched at it by Todd. “Did I not tell you,” he continued, “that I would have no prying—no peeping—no remarking about this or the other? I’Il crush the life out of you, as I would that from a mad dog!” A strange howling cry at the door at this moment came upon the ears of Todd. His countenance changed, and his lips moved as though he was still saying something, but he had not power to give it audibly. At length, somewhat mastering his emotion, he said— “What—what’s that?” “A dog, sir.” “A dog! Confound all dogs.” Another howl, and a violent scratching at the door, was further and most conclusive evidence of the canine character of the visitor. “Charley,” said Todd, in quite a soft tone—“Charley.” “Yes, sir.” “Take the poor dog something to eat—or—or to drink, rather I should say. You will find a saucer in yon cupboard, with some milk in it. If—if he only, bless him, takes one lick at it, I shall be satisfied. You know, Charley, God made all things, and we should be good to his creatures.” “Yes, sir,” said Johanna, with a shudder. She went to the cupboard, and found the saucer, in which there seemed to be a drop of fresh milk. She walked to the door, while Todd, as though he did not feel by any means sure of the pacific intentions of the dog, at once rushed into his back parlour, and locked himself in. Todd had a peep-hole from the back parlour into the shop, but he could not see further than the shop door. Moreover, Johanna’s back was towards him, so he could only guess at what was going on if the dog did not actually come across the threshold. That the milk which Todd was so solicitous should be given to the dog was poisoned, occurred to Johanna in a moment; and just before opening the door, she threw it into a corner, upon some loose shavings, and odds and ends of waste paper, that were there. Johanna then opened the door. In an instant Hector, the large dog of the unfortunate Thornhill, whose identity with Mark Ingestrie appeared to be so established in the mind of Johanna, sprang upon her with an angry growl. It was only for one brief moment, however, that Hector made any such mistake as fancying Johanna to be Sweeney Todd; and then he, with an affectionate whine, licked the hands of the young girl. “Pison! Pison!” cried a loud voice, and in another moment, the ostler, from the coach-office opposite, rushed to the door, and caught the dog around the neck. “Ah, there ye is agin. Why, what a goose of a feller you is, to be sure, Pison. Don’t you know, now, as well as I do, that that barber will do you a mischief yet, you great blockhead, you? Come home, will yer? Come home, now. Come along wi’ yer!” “Yes—yes,” said Johanna. “Take him away—take him away.” “Won’t I, that’s all. I suppose you are a young shaver? Only let me catch you a-interfering with Pison, that’s all, and won’t I let you know what’s what, young feller.” The ostler having uttered this most uncalled-for threat to poor Johanna, took Pison in triumph over the way. Johanna closed the door. “Ts he gone?” said Todd. “Yes, sir.” “And the milk? Is that gone, likewise?” “Every drop of it.” “Ha! ha! ha! Well—well. Only to think, now. Ha! ha! I hope that milk won’t disagree with the noble animal. How fond I am of him! How often he has been over here, in his little pretty playful way, to try and bite pieces out of my legs. Bless him. If now that milk should give him a stomach-ache, what a pity it would be. Did I hear a man’s voice?” “Yes, sir; Some man came and called the dog away.” “How good of him, and what a pity it would have been if he had called the noble animal away before the milk was all consumed. Dear me, some people would grudge a creature a drop of milk. A-hem—Charley?” CORniclooo S CO)