condescending gentleman of Government Office
appearance, who keeps the books of the
establishment with his glass in his eye. The
Institution may stoop to bets of single shillings,
or may reject lower ventures than half-crowns,
or may draw the line of demarcation between
itself and the snobs at five shillings, or
seven-and-sixpence, or half-a-sovereign, or even
(but very rarely indeed), at a pound. Its note of
the little transaction may be a miserable scrap
of limp pasteboard with a wretchedly printed
form, worse filled up; or, it may be a
genteelly tinted card, addressed "To the Cashier
of the Aristocratic Club," and authorising
that important officer to pay the bearer two
pounds fifteen shillings, if Greenhorn wins
the Fortunatus's Cup; and to be very
particular to pay it the day after the race. But,
whatever the Betting-shop be, it has only to
be somewhere—anywhere, so people pass and
repass—and the rapid youth of England, with
its slang intelligence perpetually broad awake
and its weather eye continually open, will
walk in and deliver up its money, like the
helpless Innocent that it is

    Pleased to the last, it thinks its wager won,
    And licks the hand by which it's surely Done!

We cannot represent the head quarters of
Household Words as being situated peculiarly
in the midst of these establishments, for, they
pervade the whole of London and its suburbs.
But, our neighbourhood yields an abundant
crop of Betting-shops, and we have not to go
far to know something about them. Passing,
the other day, through a dirty thoroughfare,
much frequented, near Drury Lane Theatre,
we found that a new Betting-shop had
suddenly been added to the number under the
auspices of MR. CHEERFUL.

Mr. Cheerful's small establishment was so
very like that of the apothecary in Romeo
and Juliet, unfurnished, and hastily adapted
to the requirements of secure and profitable
investment, that it attracted our particular
notice. It burst into bloom, too, so very shortly
before the Ascot Meeting, that we had our
suspicions concerning the possibility of Mr.
Cheerful having devised the ingenious
speculation of getting what money he could, up to
the day of the race, and then—if we may be
allowed the harsh expression—bolting. We
had no doubt that investments would be made
with Mr. Cheerful, notwithstanding the very
unpromising appearance of his establishment;
for, even as we were considering its exterior
from the opposite side of the way (it may
have been opened that very morning), we saw
two newsboys, an incipient baker, a clerk,
and a young butcher, go in, and transact
business with Mr. Cheerful in a most
confiding manner.

We resolved to lay a bet with Mr. Cheerful,
and see what came of it. So, we stepped across
the road into Mr. Cheerful's Betting-shop, and,
having glanced at the lists hanging up therein,
while another noble sportsman (a boy with a
blue bag) laid another bet with Mr. Cheerful,
we expressed our desire to back Tophana for
the Western Handicap, to the spirited amount
of half-a-crown. In making this advance to
Mr. Cheerful, we looked as knowing on the
subject, both of Tophana and the Western
Handicap, as it was in us to do: though, to
confess the humiliating truth, we neither had,
nor have, the least idea in connexion with
those proper names, otherwise than as we
suppose Tophana to be a horse, and the
Western Handicap an aggregate of stakes.
It being Mr. Cheerful's business to be grave
and ask no questions, he accepted our wager,
booked it, and handed us over his railed desk
the dirty scrap of pasteboard, in right of
which we were to claim the day after the
race; we were to be very particular about
that—seven-and-sixpence sterling, if Tophana
won. Some demon whispering us that here
was an opportunity of discovering whether
Mr. Cheerful had a good bank of silver in the
cash-box, we handed in a sovereign. Mr.
Cheerful's head immediately slipped down
behind the partition, investigating imaginary
drawers; and Mr. Cheerful's voice was
presently heard to remark, in a stifled manner,
that all the silver had been changed for gold
that morning. After which, Mr. Cheerful
reappeared in the twinkling of an eye, called
in from a parlour the sharpest small boy ever
beheld by human vision, and dispatched him
for change. We remarked to Mr. Cheerful
that if he would obligingly produce
half-a-sovereign (having so much gold by him) we
would increase our bet, and save him trouble.
But, Mr. Cheerful, sliding down behind the
partition again, answered that the boy was gone,
now—trust him for that; he had vanished the
instant he was spoken to—and it was no
trouble at all. Therefore, we remained until
the boy came back, in the society of Mr.
Cheerful, and of an inscrutable woman who
stared out resolutely into the street, and was
probably Mrs. Cheerful. When the boy
returned, we thought we once saw him faintly
twitch his nose while we received our change,
as if he exulted over a victim; but, he was so
miraculously sharp, that it was impossible to
be certain.

The day after the race, arriving, we returned
with our document to Mr. Cheerful's
establishment, and found it in great confusion. It
was filled by a crowd of boys, mostly greasy,
dirty, and dissipated; and all clamouring for
Mr. Cheerful. Occupying Mr. Cheerful's
place, was the miraculous boy; all alone, and
unsupported, but not at all disconcerted.
Mr. Cheerful, he said, had gone out on
"tickler bizniz" at ten o'clock in the morning,
and would'nt be back till late at night.
Mrs. Cheerful was gone out of town for her
health, till the winter. Would Mr. Cheerful
be back to-morrow? cried the crowd. "He
won't be here, to-morrow," said the
miraculous boy. "Coz it's Sunday, and he always