"Yes, sir," continued my father, with increasing emphasis and peculiar
dignity, "Ticket--the great Ticket--the greatest"--
"Pawnbroker in London," said I, finishing the sentence.
"Yes, sir, he is; and what of that?"
"Nothing further; I don't much like the trade, but"--
"But he's your uncle, sir. It's a glorious money-making business. He
offers to take you as an apprentice. Nancy, my love, pack up this lad's
things, and start him off by the mail to-morrow. Go to bed, Tom."
So the die was cast! The mail was punctual; and I was duly delivered to
Ticket--the great Ticket--my maternal, and everybody else's undefinable,
uncle. Duly equipped in glazed calico sleeves, and ditto apron, I took my
place behind the counter. But as it was discovered that I had a peculiar
_penchant_ for giving ten shillings in exchange for gilt sixpences, and
encouraging all sorts of smashing by receiving counterfeit crowns,
half-crowns, and shillings, I received a box on the ear, and a positive
command to confine myself to the up-stairs, or "top-of-the-spout
department" for the future. Here my chief duties were to deposit such
articles as progressed up that wooden shaft in their respective places,
and by the same means transmit the "redeemed" to the shop below. This was
but dull work, and in the long dreary evenings, when partial darkness (for
I was allowed no candle) seemed to invite sleep, I frequently fell into a
foggy sort of mystified somnolency--the partial prostration of my
corporeal powers being amply compensated by the vague wanderings of
indistinct imagination.
In these dozing moods some of the parcels round me would appear not only
imbued with life, but, like the fabled animals of Æsop, blessed with the
gift of tongues. Others, though speechless, would conjure up a vivid train
of breathing tableaux, replete with their sad histories. That tiny relic,
half the size of the small card it is pinned upon, swells like the
imprisoned genie the fisherman released from years of bondage, and the
shadowy vapour takes once more a form. From the small circle of that
wedding ring, the tear-fraught widow and the pallid orphan, closely dogged
by Famine and Disease, spring to my sight. That brilliant tiara opens the
vista of the rich saloon, and shows the humbled pride of the titled
hostess, lying excuses for her absent gems. The flash contents of that
bright yellow handkerchief shade forth the felon's bar; the daring burglar
eyeing with confidence the counsel learned in the law's defects, fee'd by
its produce to defend its quondam owner. The effigies of Pride,
Extravagance, honest Distress, and reckless Plunder, all by turns usurp
the scene. In my last waking sleep, just as I had composed myself in
delicious indolence, a parcel fell with more than ordinary force on one
beneath. These were two of my talking friends. I stirred not, but sat
silently to listen to their curious conversation, which I now proceed to
give verbatim.
_Parcel fallen upon_.--"What the d--l are you?"
_Parcel that fell_.--"That's my business."
"Is it? I rather think its mine, though. Why don't you look where you're
going?"
"How can I see through three brown papers and a rusty black silk
handkerchief?"
"Ain't there a hole in any of 'em?"
"No."
"That's a pity; but when you've been here as long as I have, the moths
will help you a bit."
"Will they?"
"Certainly."
"I hope not."
"Hope if you like; but you'll find I'm right."
"I trust I didn't hurt you much."
"Not very. Bless you, I'm pretty well used to ill-treatment now. You've
only rubbed the pile of my collar the wrong way, just as that awkward
black rascal would brush me."
"Bless me! I think I know your voice."
"Somehow, I think I know yours."
"You ain't Colonel Tomkins, are you?"
"No."
"Nor Count Castor?"
"No."
"Then I'm in error."
"No you're not. I was the Colonel once; then I became the Count by way of
loan; and then I came here--as he said by mistake."
"Why, my dear fellow, I'm delighted to speak to you. How did you wear?"
"So-so."
"When I first saw you, I thought you the handsomest Petersham in town.
Your velvet collar, cuffs, and side-pockets, were superb; and when you
were the Colonel, upon my life you were the sweetest cut thing about the
waist and tails I ever walked with."
"You flatter me."
"Upon my honour, no."
"Well, I can return the compliment; for a blue, with chased buttons and
silk lining, you beat anything I ever had the honour of meeting. But I
suppose, as you are here, you are not the Cornet now?"
"Alas! no."
"May I ask why?"
"Certainly. His scoundrel of a valet disgraced his master's cloth and me
at the same time. The villain went to the Lowther Arcade--took me with him
by force. Fancy my agony; literally accessory to handing ices to
milliners' apprentices and staymakers; and when the wretch commenced
quadrilling it, he dos-a-dos'd me up against a fat soap-boiler's wife, in
filthy three-turned-and-dyed common satin."
"Scoundrel!"
"Rascal! But he was discovered--he reeled home drunk. _I_, that is, as
it's known, _we_ make the men. The Cornet saw him, and thrashed him
soundly with a three-foot Crowther."
"That must have been delightful to your feelings."
"Not very."
"Why not? revenge is sweet."
"So it is; but as the Cornet forgot to order him to take me off, I got the
worst of the drubbing. I was dreadfully cut about. Two buttons fearfully
lacerated--nothing but the shanks left."
"How did it end?"
"The valet mentioned something about wages and assault warrants, so I was
given to him to make the matter up. Between you and I, the Cornet was very
hard up."
"Indeed!"
"Certain of it. You remember the French-grey trousers we used to walk out
with--those he strapped so tight over the remarkably chatty and pleasant
French-polished boots whose broken English we used to admire so much?"
"Of course I do; they were the most charming greys I ever met. They beat
the plaids into fits; and the plaids were far from ungentlemanly, only
they would always talk with a sham Scotch accent, and quote the 'Cotter's
Saturday Night.'"
"Certainly that was a drawback. But to return to our friends, and the
Cornet's friends, they must have been bad, for those very greys were
seated."
"Impossible!"
"Fact, I assure you. My tails were pinned over the patch for three weeks."
"How did they bear it?"
"Shockingly. A general break up of the constitution--went all to pieces.
First, decay appeared in the brace buttons; then the straps got out of
order. They did say it was owing to the heels of the French-polished boots
going down on one side, but the boots would never admit it."
"How did you get here?"
"I came from the Bench for eggs and bacon for the Cornet and his Valet's
breakfast! What brought you?"
"The Count's landlady, for a week's rent."
"What did you fetch?"
"A guinea!"
"Bless me, you must have worn well."
"No; hold your tongue--I think I shall die with laughing,--ha! ha!--When
they took me in, I returned the compliment. I've been--"
"What?"
"Cuffed and collared!"
"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" shouted both coats; and "Ha! ha!" shouted I; "And I'll
teach you to 'ha! ha!' and neglect your business" shouted the Governor;
and the reality of a stunning box on the ear dispelled the illusion of my
"Day-dream at my Uncle's."