Part 10 (1/2)
At length, upon charging him with having been caught _blue-pigeon flying,_{3} Pat gave him the lie in his teeth--swore he'd fight him for all the _blunt_{4} he had about him, ”which to be sure,” said he, ”is but a sweet pretty half-a-crown, and be d----d to you--good luck to it! Here goes,” throwing the half-crown upon the floor, which the prisoner attempted to pick up, but was prevented by Pat's stamping his foot upon it, while he was _doffing his jacket_,{5} exclaiming--
”Arrah, be after putting your dirty fingers in your pocket, and don't spoil the King's picture by touching it--devil burn me, but I'll _mill your mug to m.u.f.fin dust_{6} before I'll give up that beautiful looking bit; so tip us your mauley,{7} and no more blarney.”
1 Down upon the Kiddies--To understand the arts and manouvres of thieves and sharpers.
2 Boned--Taken or secured.
s Blue pigeon flying--The practice of stealing lead from houses, churches, or other buildings. A species of depredation very prevalent in London and its vicinity, and which is but too much encouraged by the readiness with which it can be disposed of to the plumbers in general.
4 Blunt--A flash term for money.
5 Doffing his Jacket--Taking off his jacket.
6 Mill your mug to m.u.f.fin dust--The peculiarity of the Irish character for overstrained metaphor, may perhaps, in some degree, account for the Hibernian's idea of beating his head to flour, though he was afterwards inclined to commence his operations in the true style and character of the prize ring, where
”Men shake hands before they box, Then give each other plaguy knocks, With all the love and kindness of a brother.”
7 Tip us your mauley--Give me your hand. Honour is so sacred a thing with the Irish, that the rapid transition from a violent expression to the point of honour, is no uncommon thing amongst them; and in this instance it is quite clear that although he meant to mill the mug of his opponent to m.u.f.fin dust, he had a notion of the thing, and intended to do it in an honourable way.
~87~~During this conversation, the spectators, who were numerous, were employed in endeavouring to pacify the indignant Hibernian, who by this time had buffid it, or, in other words, _peeled in prime twig_,{1} for a regular _turn to._{2} All was noise and confusion, when a new group of persons entered the room--another capture had been made, and another charge given. It was however with some difficulty that honest Pat Murphy was prevailed upon to remain a little quiet, while one of the officers beckoned Dashall out of the room, and gave him to understand that the man in custody, just brought in, was a well-known _pal_{3} of the one first suspected, though they took not the least notice of each other upon meeting. In the mean time, another officer in the room had been searching the person of the last captured, from whose bosom he drew the identical handkerchief of Bob; and the Irishman recollected seeing him in the crowd opposite the Opera House.
This cleared up the mystery in some degree, though the two culprits affected a total ignorance of each other. The property of the person who had given the last charge was also discovered, and it was deemed absolutely necessary to take them before the Magistrate. But as some new incidents will arise on their introduction to the office, we shall reserve them for the next Chapter.
1 Buff'd it, or peeled in prime twig--Stripped to the skin in good order. The expressions are well known, and frequently in use, among the sporting characters and lovers of the fancy.
2 Turn to, or set to--The commencement of a battle.
3 Pal--A partner or confederate.
CHAPTER VIII
Houses, churches, mixt together, Streets unpleasant in all weather; Prisons, palaces contiguous, Gates, a bridge--the Thames irriguous; Gaudy things, enough to tempt ye, Showy outsides, insides empty; Bubbles, trades, mechanic arts, Coaches, wheelbarrows, and carts; Warrants, bailiffs, bills unpaid, Lords of laundresses afraid; Rogues, that nightly rob and shoot men, Hangmen, aldermen, and footmen; Lawyers, poets, priests, physicians, n.o.ble, simple, all conditions; Worth beneath a thread-bare cover, Villainy bedaubed all over; Women, black, red, fair, and grey, Prudes, and such as never pray; Handsome, ugly, noisy still, Some that will not, some that will; Many a beau without a s.h.i.+lling, Many a widow not unwilling; Many a bargain, if you strike it:-- This is London--How d'ye like it?
~88~~ON entering the Public Office, Bow-street, we must leave our readers to guess at the surprise and astonishment with which the Hon.
Tom Dashall and his Cousin beheld their lost friend, Charles Sparkle, who it appeared had been kindly accommodated with a lodging gratis in a neighbouring watch-house, not, as it may readily be supposed, exactly suitable to his taste or inclination. Nor was wonder less excited in the mind of Sparkle at this unexpected meeting, as unlooked for as it was fortunate to all parties. There was however no opportunity at the present moment for an explanation, as the worthy Magistrate immediately proceeded to an investigation of the case just brought before him, upon which there was no difficulty in deciding. The charge was made, the handkerchief sworn to, and the men, who ~89~~were well known as old hands upon the town, committed for trial. The most remarkable feature in the examination being the evidence of Pat Murphy, who by this time had recollected that the man who was taken with the property about his person, was the very identical aggressor who had offended him while the hod of mortar was on his shoulder, before the conversation commenced between himself and Tom opposite the Opera-house.
”Sure enough, your Honour,” said he, ”its a true bill. I'm an Irishman, and I don't care who knows it--I don't fight under false colours, but love the land of potatoes, and honour St. Patrick. That there man with the _blue toggery_{1} tipp'd me a bit of blarney, what did not suit my stomach. I dropp'd my load, which he took for an order to quit, and so _mizzled_{2} out of my way, or by the big bull of Ballynafad, I'd have powdered his wig with brick-dust, and bothered his bread-basket with a little human kindness in the shape of an Irishman's fist; and then that there other dirty end of a shelalah, while the Jontleman--long life to your Honour, (bowing to Tom Dashall)--was houlding a bit of conversation with Pat Murphy, _grabb'd_{3} his pocket-handkerchief, and was after shewing a leg,{4} when a little boy that kept his oglers upon 'em, let me into the secret, and let the cat out of the bag by bawling--Stop thief! He darted off like a cow at the sound of the bagpipes, and I boulted a'ter him like a good'un; so when I came up to him, Down you go, says I, and down he was; and that's all I know about the matter.”
As the prisoners were being taken out of court, the Hibernian followed them. ”Arrah,” said he, ”my lads, as I have procured you a lodging for nothing, here's the half-a-crown, what the good-looking Jontleman gave me; it may sarve you in time of need, so take it along with you, perhaps you may want it more than I do; and if you know the pleasure of spending money that is honestly come by, it may teach you a lesson that may keep you out of the clutches of Jock Ketch, and save
1 Blue toggery--Toggery is a flash term for clothing in general, but is made use of to describe a blue coat.
2 Mizzled--Ran away.
3 Grabb'd--Took, or stole.
4 Shewing a leg--or, as it is sometimes called, giving leg- bail--making the best use of legs to escape detection.
~90~~you from dying in a horse's night-cap{1}--there, be off wid you.”