My capturer was a boy, and as remarkable a specimen of a boy as it has
ever been my lot to meet during the whole of my career. His age was,
say, fourteen. He stood four feet one in his slipshod boots.
The hat which adorned his head was an old white billycock, which in its
palmy days might have adorned noble brows, so fashionable were its
pretensions. Now, alas! it had one side caved in, and the other was
green with wear and weather. The coat which arrayed his manly form was
evidently one not made recently or to wearer's measure, for besides
showing cracks and rents in various parts, its tails were so
extravagantly long for its small occupant that they literally almost
touched the ground. His nether garments, on the other hand, although
they resembled the coat in their conveniences for ventilation, being all
in rags and tatters, appeared to have been borrowed from a smaller pair
of legs even than those owned by my present possessor, for they--at
least one leg--barely reached half way below the knee, while the other
stopped short very little lower. Altogether, the boy was as nondescript
and "scarecrowy" an object as one could well expect to meet with.
As he left the hall he gave a quick look round to assure himself no one
was following him; then he darted across the road and proceeded to
shuffle forward in so extremely leisurely and casual a way, that very
few of the people who met him would have imagined he carried a stolen
watch in his pocket.
Such a hole as it was! As soon as I had sufficiently recovered from my
astonishment to look about me, I became aware that I was by no means the
sole occupant of the receptacle he was pleased to designate by the title
of a pocket, but which other people would have called a slit in the
lining of his one sound coat-tail.
There was a stump of a clay pipe, with tobacco still hot in it. There
was a greasy piece of string, a crust of bread, a halfpenny, a few brass
buttons, and a very greasy and very crumpled and very filthy copy of a
"penny awful" paper. I need hardly say that this scrutiny did not
afford me absolute pleasure. In the first place, my temporary lodging
was most unsavoury and unclean; and in the second place, there was not
one among my many fellow-lodgers who could be said to be in my position
in life, or to whom I felt in any way tempted to address any inquiry.
This difficulty, however, was settled for me. A voice close beside me
said, in a hoarse whisper, "What cheer, Turnip? how do you like it?"
I looked round, and perceived that the speaker was the clay pipe, who
happened to be close beside me as I lay.
I held my nose--so to speak (for watches are not supposed to be gifted
with that organ)--the tobacco which was smouldering in him must have
been a month old, while the pipe itself looked remarkably grimy and
dirty. However, thought I, there would be no use in being uncivil to my
new comrades, unpleasant though they were, and I might as well make use
of this pipe to assist me to certain information I was curious to get.
So I answered, "I don't like it at all. Can you tell me where I am?"
"Where are you, Turnip? Why, you're in young Cadger's pocket, to be
sure; but you won't stay there long, no error."
I secretly wished this objectionable pipe would not insist on addressing
me as "Turnip," but on the whole the present did not seem exactly the
time to stand on my dignity, so I replied,--
"Why, what's going to become of me?"
"What's going to become of you, Turnip! Why, you'll go to Cadger's
uncle. Won't he, mate?"
The mate addressed was the piece of string, who, I should say, was by no
means the latest addition to the Cadger's collection of valuables. He
now grinned and wriggled in reply to the pipe's appeal, and snuffled,--
"That's right, mate; that's where he'll go. Do you hear, Turnip? that's
where you'll go--to Cadger's uncle."
It occurred to me that Cadger's uncle would have to be vastly more
respectable and fragrant than his nephew to make the change at all
advantageous to me.
"Is young Cadger a thief?" I next inquired.
The pipe laughed.
"Why, what a funny chap you are, Turnip!" it said.
"Does it look like it? Cadger a thief!--oh, my eye! not at all. Eh,
mate?"
The greasy string took up the laugh, and snivelled in chorus.
"Ho, ho! ain't he a funny chap? Do you hear. Turnip? ain't you a funny
chap? Oh, my eye! not at all."
It was disgusting! Not only was I cooped up in an abominably filthy
tail-coat pocket, with a motley rabble of disreputable associates, but
every time I opened my lips here I was insulted and laughed at for every
word I spoke.
However, I gathered that the purport of the reply to my last inquiry was
that the young Cadger _was_ a thief, and I made one more attempt to gain
information.
"Where are we going to now?" I asked.
"Going!" cried the pipe, with his insulting jeer.
"What, don't you know where you're a-going, old Turnip? You're a-going
wherever he takes yer; ain't he, mate?"
It was positively painful to see how that vile piece of string wriggled
as he replied,--
"Do you hear, Turnip? You're a-going wherever young Cadger takes yer.
Now what do you think of that?"
It was impossible to continue a conversation with such low, ill-mannered
creatures, and I therefore abandoned the attempt, having at least
ascertained that I was at present located in a thief's pocket, that my
immediate destination was vague, and that ultimately I might expect to
become the property of a near relative of my present possessor.
Noticing that I became silent, the pipe and the string between them
began to question me. But I was neither in the mood nor the desire to
gratify their curiosity. They therefore contented themselves with
cracking jokes at my expense, and thus we journeyed together a mile or
two towards our unknown destination.
Presently a dirty little hand came groping down into our place of
retreat. It first fumbled me and my chain, with a view, I suppose, to
ascertain if we were all safe, and then proceeded among the other
occupants of the pocket to secure and draw forth the half penny which I
have before mentioned.
I was relieved to have even one of my unpleasant companions removed, and
could not refrain from expressing my feelings by a sigh.
"What are you snivelling at, Turnip?" asked the pipe.