Part 66 (2/2)

”Come, Bob,” said he, ”here we must uncase--doff the present toggery, and turn out in new trim for the evening.”

”What!” enquired Bob, ”another masquerade?”

”No, no,” was the reply, ”a temporary suspension of the dress and character of a gentleman, in order to avoid being tormented and suspected by the company to which I intend to introduce you.”

Finding his friend at home, they were quickly supplied with tatter'd garments and slouch'd hats, in which they again sallied forth, and about nine o'clock they entered a low public-house in Scotland-yard.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page62 Public House]

”Fear nothing,” said Tom, as they pa.s.sed the threshold; ”don't be flurried by any thing said to you, 'tis only a heavy-wet party among the coal-heaving coves.”

As Bob entered the room, his very first action betrayed him, for, being accustomed to genteel behaviour, he took off his hat, which was in a moment knocked out of his hand by a hard featured fellow near him, whose face indicated the want of water, although so near the river.

~63~~ ”Order, order,” was vociferated in an instant by a jolly good-natured looking man exalted above the rest, who, at the same moment, rapped the table with his knuckles--”This here vay, gentlemen--Bill Muggins, mind you I arn't had your penny in the plate for Backy.”

”Vy, that's a lie!” roar'd out a Stentorian voice, ”I never takes my seat before I sees my vay clear upon the board. I put a crooked ha'

penny.”

”Yes, and two bad fardens vhat an't vorth nothing,'' said another. ”Make him tip” cried a third, ”or else stick him in the nitch.”{1}

1 Stick him in the nitch--Send him to Coventry.

Bob having regained his castor, followed his Cousin to the other end of the room, and after each depositing a penny in the plate, they took their seats at the table, where, being supplied with a flowing quart, they began to look around them.

The first thing which struck Tallyho's eye, was ”No trust,” printed in large letters at one end of the room; a sort of indication, that a man without money would not be likely to meet with agreeable entertainment: then turning his head the other way, he discovered they were in a house of call for Coal Porters. Before the president (who, by way of distinction, had turned the broad flap of his coal-heaving hat forward in the fas.h.i.+on of a huntsman's cap) was placed a small round table, on which stood a gallon measure of heavy wet. On his right sat a worn-out workman fast asleep, and occasionally affording his friends around him a snoring accompaniment to a roar of laughter.

”Silence, silence! vy don't you all be more quieter when I am going to begin?”

”Order, order, chair, chair!” now resounded from every one.

”Vell, you know its no use at all for to make me take this here chair, because vy--I an't got no woice.”

”I knows better nor that,” said Bill Muggins, ”for, by ----ven you fell overboard the other day you roared like a rum un, and ven I pulled you out you squeaked like a pig, so that are proves vhat you have got two woices, and that's one more than you ought to have. Lord, Lord, if you had but seen him and I get drunk a'ter it, you would ha' laughed--d.i.c.k bolted blue ruin till his eyes sparkled just for all the vorld like a vooden spoon against a soot bag.”

~64~~ A general laugh succeeded this sally, which was accompanied by the speaker with a violent blow upon the table, which threatened confusion to the candles, gla.s.ses, and porter-pots, with which it was loaded.

”Veil,” continued the chairman, ”you know its all my eye, I an't got no sing in me, so if you're a mind to be friendly, vill you heave out.”

”Vy, you know d.i.c.k, for the matter o' that are, I never refuses you nothing; nor, vhat's more, I never vont, so here goes.

”Vhat a hearty blade am I, Care ca'nt never touch my heart, Every trouble I defy, Vhile I views the foaming quawt.

A very good song, and very well sung; Jolly kimpanions, every one, Clap your hats on, keep your heads vann, A little more liquor will do us no harm.

Blankets and pins, blankets and pins, When a man's married his sorrow begins.”

The six last lines were repeated as a chorus, till every one appeared to be exhausted, and was succeeded by thunders of approbation, and reiterated cries of ”Well done, Bill--go it, Bill--Bill Muggins for ever!” and the still unabated snoring of their companion in the corner.

”Bill Muggins a'nt nothing but a good'un, Gemmen,”said the President; ”here's his health. Landlord, bring him a bolus of blue ruin. I say, Bill, vhat shall ve say a'ter that are good song?”

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