Page images
PDF
EPUB

ticket, they were mine! I received them reverentially and moved off, bearing my novel baptismal certificate with me. Alas, my uncle,' how many unfortunates have, like myself, lived to thank thee for a release from the terrors of want! Gladly shall this pen proclaim its tribute, and witness how, though thy doles have been abused by the drunkard, thy counter polluted by the thief, there remains yet a door open to the hungry, the needy, the distressed.

And here I lay aside my narrative, and disappear into the prosaic land from which my enthusiasm has forced me.

In after days the rays of a brighter destiny shone upon me, and when a long lapse of time found me again within the everswinging portal, it was on a different errand. I desired to explore the mysteries of that historic 'spout' in whose insatiable mouth the doomed bales awaited their transmission to the unknown regions beyond.

My whim was gratified, greatly against my expectations. It was a quiet hour, and an unwonted silence reigned in the depths of the boxes.

A small bag for tickets, being the sop for the avuncular Cerberus, hung at its entrance. A ticket was placed in it, a small bell resounded feebly above, and the bag presently disappeared. A hasty rumbling announced the advent of a huge bundle, which suddenly appeared with a startling bound at the orifice. It was removed, and I was invited to look up. A light appeared far above through the gloom, and seemed to suggest the presence of an upper and more cheerful region. My friend now motioned to me to stand aside, and proceeded, after a hoarse roar up the pipe, to clamber into its interior. On his disappearance I mustered up resolution to follow, and found myself in a square columnar structure, perfectly dark, and having wooden projections, after the fashion of a companionladder, attached to one of its sides. A tedious and prolonged series of efforts brought me at length to the top, and I stood in a large chamber, having a collection of gigantic kitchen-dressers, arranged in parallel rows, through its entire length. In these were deposited the hopes and fears of thousands: the tools of the carpenter, the watch and ring of the roué, the last rags of the outcast, the weddingdress of the bride, the ill-gotten spoil of the thief-all screened alike from view in dingy wrappings. A methodical arrangement was visible throughout; separate spaces being allotted to the numerous parcels of unredeemed effects, or goods out of time,' as they are professionally termed. The uniformity and cleanliness which prevailed formed a striking contrast to the chaotic state of the shades below.

I had been impressed with the conviction that the profits of the pawnbroker were large and his sales ready, but as regards the goods pledged my assurance was destined to be seriously shaken.

The profits which accrue to the pawnbroker from the sale of unredeemed effects form the smallest and most uncertain element of his business; the perishable nature of many of the articles, their fluctuating value, and the expense of warehousing and auction, entail in many instances a positive loss. My uncle' has therefore to look to his normal rate of interest and the sale of purchased stock for his pecuniary support.

[ocr errors]

A word in conclusion as to the personnel of a pawnbroking establishment.

The great man- -the deus ex machina-stands in the obscure relation of cause and effect to the general public. He is not often visible to the unassisted eye. More frequently he is represented by his familiars, who are, of all classes of the community, the most amenable to the scourge of the immortal flagellator Mr. Punch. They represent the type of his 'Arry' in its purest and most irrepressible form. There are, of course, degenerate scions of the avuncular stock, who cultivate a reserved demeanour, and recognise the letter h in its integrity, but they are indeed raræ aves. Buying, selling, and valuing is the staple employment of their leisure as of their working hours. As their opportunities in this respect are many, so are their emoluments large; and, but for an extravagant taste in dress, and sundry educational deficiencies, their aspirations to a higher sphere might not lack at least a substantial foundation.

Let me not forget in this parting hour, when the pignatorial ties are being riven asunder one by one, and the lineaments of the votaries of the Three Balls are growing dim in the mist of Time, to say a word as to the tenants of the gloomy causeries of mine uncle.'

The whole of the middle and lower classes, with, it is whispered, a goodly section of the upper, have stood at one time or the other before the tribunal of Mr. Pledger. He has heard the history of the fascinating Madame X-, whose cashmere shawl, long since 'out of time,' parades its beauties in the front window. Mr. F. Emera, the short-lived scion of a noble family, could, if he were at hand, swear to the late ownership of that handsome set of diamond studs. Mr. Crowquill, the poor clerk with 100l. a year and eight children, will tell you that the faded black suit before you was his last tie to society and respectability. Mr. Highlow, a gentleman without any visible means of subsistence, whose recent exit from the box, with a seedy coat buttoned up to the chin, suggests the suspicion that the shirt just pledged was his last, is a familiar and natural denizen of the avuncular domain. Laundresses, mechanics, clerks, costermongers, and a formidable subsidy of local freebooters, bring up the rear of this motley procession.

EDWARD SALA.

THE DYING WRECKER

THE parson needn't darken my door; there's time enough for him When my hand can lift the can no more, and my sight is waxing

dim.

Just put a pillow beneath my head, and hold me up the glass;
For all that the sea keeps calling me, I'll not die this bout, my lass.

Thou'lt sit by me a bit to-night ?-'tis the tenth of March once

more:

Hark how the wild winds wail and howl, and the great waves crash on the shore.

There might be a vessel out in the haze, where the reef lies under the foam;

But there's never a light in a lattice now, to wile the mariners

home.

Give us hold of the watch and the golden case. I promised, to-day's

a year,

I'd tell their tale, so thou'd stay and keep thy grandad company

here.

It's fit to scare a man, to sit by the drift-wood fire alone,

Till he hears the billows shriek for help, the gale for mercy moan.

'Twas a black and bitter night like this, just fifty years ago; The breakers churn'd and froth'd like yeast, the wind was thick with snow.

We drove the old horse with his lantern out, and we cower'd beneath the crags;

And a brave ship drove on the cruel reef, where the white surf veils

the jags.

Not a plank could live, I tell thee-we knew naught of lifeboats then

We had bairns to keep, and bread to get; we were hungry desperate

men.

It didn't hurt them, dead and drown'd, if we dragg'd their chests to

land,

And fought and strove mid the angry sea for the prizes on the sand.

[graphic]

"FOUGHT AND STROVE, 'MID THE ANGRY SEA, FOR THE PRIZES ON THE SAND.

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »