Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/551

540 “In a minute  one  of  his  grinders  was  seized — caught in  a vice,  wrenched,  twisted,  pulled. Heaven spare  us  all  the  horrible  agony! I can’t laugh any  more. The grinder  came  out  at  last,  in the  midst  of  stifled  screams,  and  I’m  afraid,  curses. It came  out,  and  the  young  man  was  guilty  of  an assault  on  the  body  of  the  dexterous  operator. Mr. Filey went  down.

“‘Where’s the  lady? Where’s Sir  Sampson Spriggs? ’ roars the  young  man,  with  his  hand  on his  mouth.

“‘My dear  sir,’  says  Mr. Filey. You really — you may  be  eccentric; but  when  one  is  doing you a good,  sir — doing  you  a service — ’

“‘ Service,’ splutters  the  wretched  young  fellow. 'Service to  pull  out  a tooth  when  I didn’t  ask you! ’

“‘Ask me,  sir,’  says  Mr. Filey. ‘ When I tell  you  it  has  been  arranged  by  your  estimable aunt, Lady  Spriggs,  and  that  it  was  paid  for yesterday — ’

“‘Paid for  yesterday! ’ bawls the  victim,  starting back.

“‘This tooth,  sir,  was  paid  for  yesterday,’ says Mr. Filey, impressively.

“‘Lady Spriggs — my  aunt?’  exclaimed  the confounded youth.

“Come, sir,’  says  Mr. Filey. ‘I think  what- ever your objection  to  part  with  it,  you  owe  me an  apology. I will not  say,  in  due  form. I expected caprice. But really  such  violence!’

“The young  man  deliberately  asked  for  Sir Sampson Spriggs,  or  the  parcel  of  jewels  which  he hail  brought  half  an  hour  ago  from  the  shop  of Messrs.  Spitchcock  and  Co.,  whose  servant  he distinctly  proclaimed  himself  to  be.

“‘ Bless me! ’ cried Mr.  Filey,  ‘is  there  some mistake! Have I really? — on my  honour,  I — ’

“‘ If you  will  go  up  to  Sir  Sampson  Spriggs, and get  that  parcel  of  jewellery  immediately — ’ said the  young  man.

“Mr. Filey started.

“‘I won’t  prosecute  you,’  the  young  man added, washing  his  mouth  out  with  water.

“‘You are  not  the  nephew  of  Sir  Sampson?’ said Mr. Filey.

“‘Don’t laugh  at  a chap,  after  what  you’ve done to  him,’  growled  the  young  man.

“‘There’s a mistake,’  said  Mr. Filey. ‘Sir Sampson is  not  here. It was  an  innocent  stratagem— ’

“‘Innocent? ’ sneers the  young  man.

“‘To get  you  to  submit  to  the  operation — Lady Spriggs — ’

“‘Will you  ring  for  her,  or  not!’  cries  the  no longer  unsuspicious  youth.

“The bell  was  rung. The ready  page  informed them that  Lady  Spriggs  had  left  the  house  shortly after her  brief  interview  with  the  young  man. By degrees  the  consummate  confidence  of  Mr. Filey  in  her  ladyship  was  melted  and  dispersed. He accompanied  the  young  man  to  Messrs. Spitchcock’s,  relates  his  share  in  the  adventure, and made,  let  us  hope,  something  like  due  reparation to  the  poor  victim  of  the  cleverest  piece  of rascality  I know  of. The rest  was  in  the  hands of the  police  and  my  agents  in  London.

“At any  rate — you  talk  of  miserable  nights — I think  you’ll  allow,  gentlemen,  that  there  was  a miserable  day  for  any  poor  fellow  under  the sun.”

On the  whole,  we  certainly  thought  that  this young fellow  was  worse  off  than  the  Colonel.

“If comparisons  were  in  good  taste,”  said  Mr. Lorquison,  “I should  request  permission  to observe,  that  your  day  is  more  horrible  than  any night I ever  heard  of. To lose  a tooth  for  nothing, egad! Allow me  to  fill  your  glass,  sir.  Bottom of the  bowl,  by  George  I How  say  you,  gentlemen?”

Oh, decidedly! we answer: a fresh  bowl! During the  brew  we  conversed. Mr. Selby  tried us with  a ghost. But there  was  no  belief  to  be had  in  it,  though  the  wind  did  blow,  and  it  was Christmas. The dealer  in  hops  laughed  outright, and struck  his  gaiters  at  the  real  climax  of  the phantom. This gentleman  had  evidently  something on  his  mind.

“Talking of  miserable  days,”  said  I,  as  I held my glass  to  be  replenished  by  Mr.  Lorquison’s second great  triumph  in  the  business  of  punch-brewing; “talking  of  miserable  days,  a friend  of mine  passed  one  in  a railway  carriage,  which  is,  I think,  almost  unsurpassed.”

“Out with  it! Let’s hear  it!” cried  the  company, settling  in  semi-circle  round  the  fire,  glass in hand.

“But first,  to  appreciate  the  incident,”  I began, “you must  know  my  friend. He is  the  most bashful of  men,  and  he  stutters: under  the  influence of  excitement,  he  can  hardly  speak. Afflicted by a sense  of  shame,  he  would  fain  be  dead  and buried. To such  men  life  may  be  a daily  tragedy. My friend  also  is  liable  to  misfortune; so  that, v’ith a light  heart,  and  a great  capacity  for  enjoyment, he  is  usually  as  miserable  as  any  Manichaan would desire. I seldom meet  him  but  he  has some dire  calamity  to  communicate  to  me. And, as if  by  fatality,  it  is  of  a kind  that  reddens  the cheeks of  a bashful  man. I might tell  you  many extraordinary adventures  that  have  befallen  him. This was  his  last.

“My friend,  you  must  know — we  will  call  him Harry Saxon — is  a very  amiable  amateur- cricketer, out of  his  bank. He will  take  the  train  at  six o’clock in  the  morning  to  be  down  a himdred miles north  or  w'est,  to  a match. On the  occasion which led  him  to  his  disaster,  he  had  journeyed down north  and  played  his  game  with  success  and satisfaction. But the  next  morning  he  had  to  be  up  in  town  in  time  for  the  first  official  hour  at  his bank,  so  he  made  short  work  of  it  over-night, and  escaped  to  bed  at  half -past  one  a.m.; breakfasted hastily  at  half-past  five,  and  hurried  to  the station  as  quick  as  he  could,  arriving  there  twenty minutes  too  early,  which  cooled  him; so  much  so that,  when  he  entered  the  carriage,  he  bethought him  that  he  had  on  his  light  cricketing-trousers, and might  as  well — since  he  had  a warm  pair,  and was alone  in  the  carriage — change  them  and  comfort his  limbs. He remembered  also  that  he  could not  appear  at  his  bank  in  light  flannels. I hope no one  will  see  any  harm  in  that  resolve. If the