The letter ran thus: "Messrs. Child and Co. present their compliments to
Captain Stubbs, and regret that they have been obliged to refuse payment
of the enclosed, having been served this day with an attachment by
Messrs. Solomonson and Co., which compels them to retain Captain
Stubbs's balance of £2010 11_s._ 6_d._ until the decision of the suit of
Solomonson v. Stubbs.
"Fleet Street."
"You see," says Mr. Nabb, as I read this dreadful letter, "you see,
Shtubbsh, dere vas two debts,—a littel von, and a big von. So dey
arrested you for de littel von, and attashed your money for de big von."
* * * * *
Don't laugh at me for telling this story: if you knew what tears are
blotting over the paper as I write it; if you knew that for weeks after
I was more like a madman than a sane man,—a madman in the Fleet Prison,
where I went, instead of to the desert island. What had I done to
deserve it? Hadn't I always kept an eye to the main chance? Hadn't I
lived economically, and not like other young men? Had I ever been known
to squander or give away a single penny? No! I can lay my hand on my
heart, and, thank Heaven, say, No! Why—why was I punished so?
Let me conclude this miserable history. Seven months—my wife saw me once
or twice, and then dropped me altogether—I remained in that fatal place.
I wrote to my dear mamma, begging her to sell her furniture, but got no
answer. All my old friends turned their backs upon me. My action went
against me—I had not a penny to defend it. Solomonson proved my wife's
debt, and seized my two thousand pounds.—As for the detainer against me,
I was obliged to go through the court for the relief of insolvent
debtors. I passed through it, and came out a beggar. But, fancy the
malice of that wicked Stiffelkind; he appeared in court as my creditor
for £3, with sixteen years' interest, at five per cent., for a PAIR OF
TOP-BOOTS. The old thief produced them in court, and told the whole
story—Lord Cornwallis, the detection, the pumping, and all.
Commissioner Dubobwig was very funny about it. "So Doctor Swishtail
would not pay you for the boots, eh, Mr. Stiffelkind?"
"No; he said, ven I ask him for payment, dey was ordered by a yong boy,
and I ought to have gone to his schoolmaster."
"What, then, you came on a _bootless_ errand, eh, sir?" (A laugh.)
"Bootless! no, sare. I brought de boots back vid me; how de devil else
could I show dem to you?" (Another laugh.)
"You've never _soled_ 'em since, Mr. Tickleshins?"
"I never vood sell dem; I svore I never vood, on porpus to be revenged
on dat Stobbs."
"What, your wound has never been _healed_, eh?"
"Vat do you mean vid your bootless errants, and your soling and healing?
I tell you I have done vat I svore to do; I have exposed him at school,
I have broak off a marriage for him, ven he vould have had twenty
tousand pound, and now I have showed him up in a court of justice; dat
is vat I ave done, and dat's enough." And then the old wretch went down,
whilst everybody was giggling and staring at poor me—as if I was not
miserable enough already.
"This seems the dearest pair of boots you ever had in your life, Mr.
Stubbs," said Commissioner Dubobwig, very archly, and then he began to
inquire about the rest of my misfortunes.
In the fulness of my heart I told him the whole of them; how Mr.
Solomonson the attorney had introduced me to the rich widow, Mrs.
Manasseh, who had fifty thousand pounds, and an estate in the West
Indies. How I was married, and arrested on coming to town, and cast in
an action for two thousand pounds, brought against me by this very
Solomonson for my wife's debts.
"Stop," says a lawyer in the court. "Is this woman a showy black-haired
woman, with one eye? very often drunk, with three children—Solomonson,
short, with red hair?"
"Exactly so," says I, with tears in my eyes.
"That woman has married _three men_ within the last two years. One in
Ireland, and one at Bath. A Solomonson is, I believe, her husband, and
they both are off for America ten days ago."
"But why did you not keep your £2000?" said the lawyer.
"Sir, they attached it."
"O! well, we may pass you; you have been unlucky, Mr. Stubbs, but it
seems as if the biter had been bit in this affair."
"No," said Mr. Dubobwig, "Mr. Stubbs is the victim of a FATAL
ATTACHMENT."