The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 203: what you’re looking at

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

186 tened to you with the respect due to a lady of your appearance: but I really don’t wish to hear any more. As for confession—that’s all gammon ; and if I must swing, I shall die game.” Mrs. Brace lifted her hands as if in despair of converting him, and, turning away, issued from the cell. Mr. Soper closed the massive door— locked and bolted it again—and then conducted the milliner and her attendant to the other quarters of the prison. Bot thither we shall not follow them: suffice it to say that, having inspected the remainder of the gaol, the visitors took their departure, leaving Mr. Soper well contented with the recompense which he had received for his trouble CHAPTER LIIL THR MYSTRRIBE OF OLD PAINTINGS Ix he house which at hat borrows its ns i by a picture- de en feet higher th wily let himself i" the leads of the Wo ge eee eee ee . _Sntlderably ad- vanced in years: or, to speak more acourately, he was verging upon sixty-five He was a widower— t-4 -- -183-— --4 being excessively parsimo- tablishment in the shape of | 1 in ormed the duties of | f maid-of-all-work;: a slip- r attended in the shop when 1 engaged ;-—and the third | artiat whom the picture- ly in his employment for st immediately transpire. ¢ was the euphonious name aaa tall, thin man, with a d head fringed with white . . . . ..tat dull hue which, being a mixture of light gray and green, gave them the ap- pearance of having been boiled. His mouth had fallen in, because he had not a single tooth left in his head; and his nose being particularly pointed, the outlines of his profile were sharp and angular. His attirewas a seedy suit of black, which age and dirt had rendered rusty and brown; and he usually wore an ney in hue and smeared with paint and var- nish. Add a massive pair of silver spectacles, with large circular glasses, to his countenance, and huge buckles of the same metal to his shoes, and you haye before your eyes a complete portraiture of Mr Shrubsole. THR MYSTERIRS. shop, and then vow that it was a perfect illumine tion. Notwithstanding the sordid appearance of the shop itself, it contained a great number of paintings. All the different Schools, whether ancient or modern, were represented in that congress of pictures; and it seemed as if all imaginable subjects and branches of the art had exercised the right of universal suffrage to send suitable members to that assembly. Por- traits, landscapes, naval and military battles, river- scenes, animals, flowers, cities, ruins, angels, devils, historica] and religious designs,—in a word, every description of subject might be viewed and selected in Mr. Shrubsole’s “Gallery of Art.” And if the visitor were not satisfied with what he beheld on the ground-floor, he was escorted to the first and second storeys, all the rooms of which were likewise filled with pictures. rat C8 Cf && r. : : a &. fe Or S| FS Se AA o @e ow’ oe : d your see the ylerable good judge, I flatter myself—and I shall very soon discover whether they are the originale or only copies.” “If you find any copies here, ely,” responded Shrubsole, * I'll eat ‘em.” “ Well—you can say nothing fairer,” observed the gentleman, taking the picture-dealer’s answer very seriously ; and, placing himself in an attentive atti- tude, he began to survey the large painting behind which the boy was devouring a sausage and slice of —— © hh ooh oP The shop was narrow, but high and long. The | bread. windows were very seldom cleaned—the floor never } and the oeiling was as black as a ceiling, that once was white, well could be. The place was always in- volved in a semi-obscurity, even in the most glorious summers day: but in the winter time it was par- ticularly sombre. This, however, the old man was wont to represent as the very best light in which real judges and connoisseurs eould possibly wish to view paintings; and when evening came, or a fog pre- vailed in the City, he would distribute half-a-dozen Wretched candles, twenty to the pound, about the “ Splendid altar-pieos, that!” sald Mr. Shrubsedle, aftera pause. ‘“‘The great master’s hand visible in every int characteristic brilliancy of style—splen- dour and richness of colouring, eh? Look at that Saint in the foreground—he literally seems to stand out of the canvass.” Still the elderly gentleman made no reply—bat kept his looks intently fixed upon the painting, just for all the world as if he were criticising it most mi- nutely. But Mr. Shrubaole had already seen through him as completely as if his entire form were COMNGBOOKS COMM