Oldal 107 [107]
OCR
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 quarter-sessions at Clerkinwell; and I very much question,” added Mr. Bumble, drawing 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 paupers 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 acknowledgment 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, baddisposed 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 discovered; 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, porochial 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
