Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 194: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

196 shaddy of a quarthern of one am [ afther see- ing at all,at all! Och! but it’s hard lines for a poor lone widdy that was once married to a rale Irish gintleman who used to get stone blind drunk every night of his life, and smelt strong of the creature when they put him in his coffin, barring that they couldn’t put him in at all; at all, but dropped him over the tother side on to the floor, widout hurting him, sure.” ‘© And he was not at all angry at such treat- ment?” asked Jack. “ Angry, yer honour? Sure, an’ the boy was as quiet as a lamb, and neversaid a blessed word,” replied Biddy. “But of course you felt vexed at such care- lessness, Mrs. Mokes ?” ““The devil a bit, yer honour. How could I, when they all sit down on the floor beside him, and trated him like a gintleman as he was.” “Treated him?” said Jack, in surprise. “Sure and they did that same,’ replied Biddy, with a look of pride. ‘‘ They poured the whiskey down the throat of the corpse till it couldn’t hold a single drop more.”’ “Ha! ha!” laughed Jack, ‘‘and that’s what you call treating him like a gentleman, Biddy, is it?” “Bedad! an’ Ido, sir; and I’m sure it’s yer honour thinks that same.’’ Jack did not, but he did not say so. If he had expressed his feelings they would have been those of disgust instead of approbation. ‘So ever since you have been a vender of fruit, eh, Biddy ?” he asked, edging towards the corner of the stall. © “Sorry a bit, yer honour. Sure an’ didn’t they get up a friendly lead for me, and buy me a mangle ?’’ “And didn’t that answer ?”’ “Tt couldn’t spake yer honour,”’ said Biddy, looking up with an air of surprise at her ques- tioner; ‘‘ barring it used to creak and groan like an evil spirit when it wanted oil. Sure an’ I never heard one spake at all, at all.” ‘‘T did not mean that.” “Sure, now, and what did yer honour mane?” asked Biddy. “ Could you not make it support you?” “Sure an’ it often did that same, seeing as I made the bed on the top of it, and barring that it was a little too higb, it was as comfortable as any I ever had.”’ “Still you do not understand my question, Biddy. Could you not get sutiicient work for it to enable you to live comfortable ?”’ “Och ! that’s it,is it?” cried Biddy. “ Sure, now I know yer honour’s maneing. The devil fly away wid me for a fool. Work, is it? Sure an’ it was meself that had plenty of that same at a penny a dozen.”’ “Then why did you not keep at it, Biddy ?”’ asked Jack. ‘‘I should think bad as mang- ling must be, 1t was far preferable to the life you now lead.” “Sure now, yer honour, it wasn’t my fault, at all, at all, that [ didn’t kape it. You see, yer honour, turning a mangle is very: thirsty work ; and it was a little drop of the creature TNE to take now and then, just to put strength into me elbow. Well, one day it was mighty busy I was, a SPRING-HEEL’D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. and I got Jem Flanagan’s wife to come and help me. We had two or three drops, when Mrs, Flanagan made a mistake, and threw the bottle of the creature into a basket of clothes belonging to a laundress instead of some of the things, and the spirit ran all over them; and sure, yer honour, I didn’t like to send them home like — that, so I puts them in the fender to dry, when, bad luck to it! a large piece of coal, red hot, fell out upon one of them, and they was all in a blaze in a moment.” | ‘© And of course you lost the lady’s work after- wards ?” | ‘‘ Bad luck to her! she wasn’t satisfied with taking away the work, but she summoned me for ten pounds, and as I wouldn’t be imposed upon by her, afther her things had nearly burnt me house and mangle, sure an’ a lot of darty spalpeens come and took the mangle away from me, and sold it, and gave her the money.” : “And what did you do then, Biddy? ” “What did I do, yer honour? sure an’ I acted like a dacent woman. I puta big stone in the foot of a stocking, and I smashed every blessed pane of glass in her windows as far as I could reach, and when I couldn’t break any © more I went into the door and broke her head with that same stocking.” | ‘¢ Certainly, that was the work of a decent woman,’ said Jack. “Sure an’ that’s thrue yer honour, But I never could get justice, for as sure as I’m sitting here, if they didn’t put me in prison for six months. Och! but it graves me sore when I think of it, for when I came back they had taken all the sticks for the rint, bad luck to them! and had left poor Biddy Mokes no home at all, at all. But Flanagan got up a raffle for me, and I bought this board and basket, and here I’ve been ever since.” “And I suppose if you had the money to purchase another mangle, you would not do so?” said Jack, after a pause. 4 4 ‘“‘Bedad! but it’s that same I’d do, for I gets rheumaticky sitting here.” | ‘““T’m afraid if you did get one you would upset bottles of spirits into the baskets of clothes, and again set them on fire.” — “Sorry a bit, yer honour. It’s careful I'd be afther being that not a drop of the creature came into the house while the work was about. But it’s a long time, I think, I'll be gettin money for a mangle here, for I ain’t had a blessec customer this two hours. Won’t yer honour buy some of these nice apples? Sure an’ they . are aS swate as sugar, and I’ll polish them up beautiful with my handkerchief,” said Biddy, taking from her pocket a piece of rag that cer- tainly had not felt water for some time. ‘¢ Tt’s only the colour, sir,” she continued, as she began polishing the skin of an apple, after breathing upon the rind. “ It was as clean asa new pin three weeks ago, and, barring that it’s a nasty cold I’ve had on me through sitting here, it ain’t been used much. There, your honour, sure an’ ye could eat that apple with pleasure, I know.’”. | Jack turned his head, with a shudder of dis- gust, as a voice exclaimed— ‘Hallo, Mother Murphy !*ain’t you coming s00kKs.co (Elo A MUCE