Oldal 107 [107]
paupers might have chorused the rejoinder
with great propriety if they had heard it.
“A porochial life, ma’am,” continued
Mr. Bumble, striking the table with his
cane, “is a life of worry, and vexation,
and hardihood ; but all public characters,
as I may say, must suffer prosecution.”
Mrs. Mann, not very well knowing
what the beadle meant, raised her hands
with a look of sympathy, and sighed.
6 Ah! You may well sigh, Mrs. Mann!"
said the beadle.
Finding she had done right, Mrs. Mann
sighed again, evidently to the satisfaction
ef the public character, who, repressing a
complacent smile by looking sternly at his
cocked hat, said,
‘ Mrs. Mann, I am a going to London.”
c Lauk, Mr. Bumble!” said Mrs. Mann,
starting back.
c To London, ma’am,” resumed the
inflexible beadle, “ by coach; I, and two
paupers, Mrs. Mann. A legal action is
coming on about a settlement, and the
board has appointed me—me, Mrs. Mann
—to depose to the matter before the quar¬
ter-sessions at Clerkinwell; and I very
much question,” added Mr. Bumble, draw¬
ing himself up, “ whether the Clerkinwell
Sessions will not find themselves in the
wrong box before they have done with me.”
6 Oh! you mustn’t be too hard upon
them, sir,” said Mrs. Mann coaxingly.
«The Clerkinwell Sessions have brought
it upon themselves, ma’am,” replied Mr.
Bumble; “ and if the Clerkinwell Sessions
find they come off rather worse than they
expected, the Clerkinwell Sessions have
only themselves to thank.”
here was so much determination and
depth of purpose about the menacing
manner in which Mr. Bumble delivered
himself of these words, that Mrs. Mann
appeared quite awed by them. At length
she said,
“ You ’re going by coach, sir? I thought
it was always usual to send them paupers
in carts.”
* 'That’s when they "re ill, Mrs. Mann,”
said the beadle. “We put the sick pau¬
pers into open carts in the rainy weather,
to prevent their taking cold.”
“Oh!” said Mrs. Mann.
c The opposition coach contracts for
these two, and takes them cheap,” said
Mr. Bumble. “They are both in a very
low state, and we find it would come two
pound cheaper to move ’em than to bury
em,—that is, if we can throw ’em upon
another parish, which I think we shall be
able to do, if they don’t die upon the road
to spite us. Ha! ha! ha!”
When Mr. Bumble had laughed a little
cocked hat, and he became grave.
“ We are forgetting business, ma’am,”
said the beadle ;—* here is your porochial
stipend for the month.”
Wherewith Mr. Bumble produced some
silver money, rolled up in paper, from his
pocket-book, and requested a receipt,
which Mrs. Mann wrote.
“It’s very much blotted, sir,” said the
farmer of infants ; " but it’s formal enough,
I dare say. Thank you, Mr. Bumble, sir;
I am very much obliged to you, I’m
sure.”
Mr. Bumble nodded blandly in acknow¬
ledgment of Mrs. Mann’s curtsey, and
inquired how the children were.
“ Bless their dear little hearts ¥’ said
Mrs. Mann with emotion, “they’re as
well as can be, the dears! Of course,
except the two that died last week, and
little Dick.”
“Tsn’t that boy no better?” inquired
Mr. Bumble. Mrs. Mann shook her head.
“He’s a ill-conditioned, vicious, bad¬
disposed porochial child that,” said Mr.
Bumble angrily. “ Where is he?”
sc [/11 bring him to you in one minute,
sir,” replied Mrs. Mann. “ Here, you
Dick!
After some calling, Dick was discov¬
ered; and having had his face put under
the pump, and dried upon Mrs. Mann’s
gown, he was led into the awful presence
of Mr. Bumble, the beadle.
The child was pale and thin; his cheeks
were sunken, and his eyes large and
bright. The scanty parish dress, the
livery of his misery, hung loosely upon
his feeble body ; and his young limbs had
wasted away like those of an old man.
Such was the little being that stood
trembling beneath Mr. Bumble’s glance,
not daring to lift his eyes from the floor
and dreading even to hear the beadle’s
voice. |
“ Can’t you look at the gentleman, you
obstinate boy ?" said Mrs. :
The child meekly raised his eyes, and
encountered those of Mr. Bumble.
c What’s the matter with you, poro¬
chial Dick?" inquired Mr. Bumble with
well-timed jocularity.
“ Nothing, sir,” replied the child faintly.
“] should think not,” said Mrs, Mann,
who had of course laughed very much at
Mr. Bumble’s exquisite humour. You
want for nothing, I’m sure.”
“JT should like—” faltered the child. ©
“ Hey-day !” interposed Mrs. Mann,
“ f suppose you ’re going to say that you