of the Mob-Cap. He is very popular, and can
always manage to hold the attention of his
audience, when he does not extend his sermon
beyond one o'clock. When he is indiscreet
enough to overstep that limit, he finds that the
attractions of beer are too much for him. A
little higher up the road we are edified by an
awakened tinman, who draws his illustrations
from his own family circle, and occasionally tells
us what pious thoughts came into his wife's
head when she was washing the greens for
dinner. The tinman has so often mentioned his
boy Tommy in a religious and doctrinal connexion,
that I begin to regard Tommy as an extra
Scriptural personage, and an essential part of
the new doctrine. I have a vague sort of feeling
that some day or other I shall be required
to subscribe to Tommy. In the evening, a
youth of tender years addresses us, with his eyes
shut, as "O, his friends," from the top of a four
and a half gallon cask close to the open side-door
of the House of Call for Plasterers. This
preaching is promoted by the landlady of the
House of Call for Plasterers, who stands at the
door to listen—leaving her daughters to serve
at the bar—and appears greatly to profit by the
youth's ministrations, both as a publican and as
a sinner. If heresy and strange doctrine be
what you want, come to Twopenny Town. There
is a chapel up the road where all the heresies
are introduced the moment they arrive from
Oxford or South Africa. The reverend proprietor
sends round circulars to inform us when
he has added any strange doctrine to his collection.
We have had all the new things as they
came out: the Rejection of the Thirty-nine
Articles; the Denial of Moses; the Explosion
of Noah's Ark; and I have no doubt that the
Fallacy of Baptismal Regeneration "will shortly
be added."
Literature? Twopenny Town boasts two
newspapers, solely devoted to the interests of
the locality, recording from week to week, for
the small charge of one penny, the doings of
the vestry, the local improvement board, and the
workhouse committee, and keeping a sharp eye
—two sharp eyes—upon the half-yearly rating.
N.B. Advertisements threepence a line; servants
wanting places and apartments to let (with or
without board, or partial) at a reduction. The
editors, or proprietors, have no objection to call
and leave your copies early on the day of
publication. Five circulating libraries within a
radius of a quarter of a mile, where all the oldest
standard works may be obtained; twopence a
volume for as long as you like, and the librarians
don't mind if you never return them. The
Fine Arts? The barber's in Nobthatch-street,
where you may have your hair cut for threepence
—including brushing by machinery—and
enjoy the contemplation of all the masters,
ola and young, on view, or for sale; on view
gratis, a genuine Corregio, or on sale, two
pound fifteen, with a pot of bear's grease or
a bottle of wash for thinness on the top,
thrown in.
Is there anything else you would like to
mention? Nothing? Very well then; allow
that Twopenny Town is a world in itself, leaving
nothing to be desired.
QUITE ALONE.
THE continuation of this Story is postponed
until next week.
MEDUSA.
IN FIVE CHAPTERS. CHAPTER IV.
THE next morning, Edward Saville watched
the old serving-man out, he saw the two girls
start in the direction of Kensington Gardens,
and he determined once more to essay his
blandishments, backed with another half-crown, upon
the little maid-of-all-work. He had not closed
his eyes all night, and could not rest until he
had acquired some definite information with regard
to his neighbours.
He rung at the bell, and Jane answered it.
"I am sure you're a good-natured little puss,"
he said, giving her the half-crown; "and you
won't refuse to tell me who it was playing so
beautifully on the piano last night. I had my
window open, and was listening all the evening:
was it Miss Elizabeth?"
"Oh laws no," said Jane, "that was Mr.
William; he do play beautiful to be sure! I
often listens myself."
"Oh, that was Mr. William, was it? And
does he often come and play here?"
"Why, to be sure he do," answered the
girl; "he's Mrs. Hausmann's own son, and he's
here a'most every evening."
"Oh, Mrs. Hausmann's son, is he?" It was
her brother, then—and he drew a long breath.
"What fun they were having afterwards! Miss
Elizabeth fell fast asleep in the moonlight."
"Laws!" said the girl, "that was Countess
Vander, that wasn't Miss Elizabeth."
"No, no," said Edward Saville, impatiently,
with a renewal of agitation; "I mean Miss
Elizabeth, the tall lady in white."
"I know," interrupted the girl, "with all
her hair down to her feet—well, that's Countess
Vander, that is."
"Jane!" called a loud voice from within,
and the conscience-stricken Jane vanished under
ground, as a homely-looking old German woman,
with a stern careworn aspect, walked straight up
to the street-door, and shut it in his face.
Nothing daunted, he repaired to the florist's,
and, having provided himself with another
beautiful nosegay, left it at the house as he
came back. He gave it to the old man-servant
with a sovereign, and begged him to deliver it
to Countess Vander, the tall lady with the long
fair hair. In about ten minutes his flowers
were again returned to him, with the following
note:
Sir,—I must beg you to abandon a pursuit
which is extremely annoying to us, and can only
be productive of disappointment and unhappiness
to yourself. Your attentions are not welcome
Dickens Journals Online