The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

made the terrific announcement concerning the poisoning— “Now, you wretches, you see what a woman can do when she makes up her mind for vengeance. As long as you all live, you’ll recollect me; but if you don’t, that won’t much matter, for you won’t live long, I can tell you, and now I’m going to my sister’s, Mrs. Tiddiblow.” So saying, Mrs. Oakley turned quickly round, and, with an insulting toss of her head, and not at all caring for the pangs and sufferings of her poor victims, she left the place, and proceeded to her sister’s house, where she slept as comfortably as if she had not by any means committed two diabolical murders. But has she done so, or shall we, for the honour of human nature, discover that she went to a neighbouring chemist’s,®* and only purchased some dreadfully powerful medicinal compound, which she placed in the half-and-half, and which began to give those pangs to Big Ben, the beef-eater, and to Mr. Oakley, concerning which they were so eloquent? This must have been the case; for Mrs. Oakley could not have been such a fiend in human guise as to laugh as she passed the chemist’s shop. Oh no! she might not have felt remorse, but that is a very different thing, indeed, from laughing at the matter, unless it were really laughable and not serious at all. Big Ben and Mr. Oakley must have at length found out how they had been hoaxed, and the most probable thing was that the before- mentioned chemist himself told them; for they sent for him in order to know if anything could be done to save their lives. Ben from that day forthwith made a determination that he would not visit Mr. Oakley, and the next time they met he said— “T tell you what it is, that old hag, your wife, is one too many for us, that’s a fact; she gets the better of me altogether—so, whenever you feels a little inclined for a gossip about old times, just you come down to the Tower.” “T will, Ben.” “Do; we can always find you something to drink, and you can amuse yourself, too, by looking at the animals. Remember feeding time is two o’clock; so, now and then, I shall expect to see you, and, above all, be sure you let me know if that canting® parson, Lupin, comes any more to your house.” “T will, Ben.” “Ah, do; and I'll give him another lesson if he should, and I’Il tell you how I’Il do it. P’ll get a free admission to the wild beasteses in the Tower, and when he comes to see ’em, for them ’ere sort of fellows always goes everywhere they can go for nothing, I’ ll just manage to pop him into a cage along of some of the most cantankerous creatures as we have.” “But would that not be dangerous?” “Oh dear no! we has a laughing hyena as would frighten him out of his wits; but I don’t think as he’d bite him much, do you know. He’s as playful as a kitten, and very fond of standing on his head.” “Well, then, Ben, I have, of course, no objection, although I do think that the lesson you have already given to the reverend gentleman will and ought to be fully sufficient for all purposes, and I don’t expect we shall see him again.” “But how does Mrs. O. behave to you?” asked Ben. “Well, then, Ben, I don’t think there’s much difference; sometimes she’s a little civil, and sometimes she ain’t; it’s just as she takes into her head.” “Ah! all that comes of marrying.” “T have often wondered, though, Ben, that you never married.” Ben gave a chuckle as he replied— “Have you, though, really? Well, Cousin Oakley, I don’t mind telling you, but the real fact is, once I was very near being served out in that sort of way.” “Indeed!” “Yes. ll tell you how it was: there was a girl called Angelina Day, and a nice-looking enough creature she was as you’d wish to see, and didn’t seem as if she’d got any claws at all; leastways, she kept them in, like a cat at meal times.” “Upon my word, Ben, you have a great knowledge of the world.” “T believe you, I have! Haven’t I been brought up among the wild beasts in the Tower all my life? That’s the place to get a knowledge of the world in, my boy. I ought to know a thing or two, and in course I does.” “Well, but how was it, Ben, that you did not marry this Angelina you speak of?” “T’Il tell you; she thought she had me as safe as a hare in a trap, and she was as amiable as a lump of cotton. You’d have thought, to look at her, that she did nothing but smile; and, to hear her, that she said nothing but nice, mild, pleasant things, and I really began to think as I had found the proper sort of animal.” “But you were mistaken?” “T believe you, I was. One day I’d been there to see her, I mean, at her father’s house, and she’d been as amiable as she could be; I got up to go away, with a determination that the next time I got there I would ask her to say yes, and when I had got a little way out of the garden of the house where they lived—it was out of town some distance—I found I had left my little walking-cane behind me, so I goes back to get it, and when I got into the garden, I heard a voice.” “Whose voice?” “Why Angelina’s to be sure; she was a-speaking to a poor little dab of a servant they had; and oh, my eye! how she did rap out, to be sure! Such a speech as I never heard in all my life. She went on for a matter of ten minutes without stopping, and every other word was some ill name or another, and her voice—oh, gracious! it was like a bundle of wire all of a tangle—it was!” CORniclooo S CO)