The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

148 REYNOLDS’ WORKS us how to do things better on this second occasion; so we clambered up to one of the windows that overlooked the River Trent, and got into the uninhabited part that way. We went down into the vaults and found the body just where we had left it lying on the steps. One would have thought the rats must have begun to make a meal upon it, but it was quite otherwise, the stiff’un was as fresh and as periect as when we dragged it out of the water, two nights before. Well, we got it up the stone stairs into a sort of vestry-place opening out of the chapel. There we put it into’ one of those precious big sacks that resurrectionists have for the purpose, and lowered it by ropes out of the window by which wé had got in. Our own escape was made without exciting any alarm in the building, and we got the stufun safe away into the wood, where Bob Shakerly was waiting with a horse and cart. He then drove off to Gains- borough, while me and my pals followed on foot. Doctor Ferney paid the price agreed upon, and though when it came to be divided amongst us all, our shares weren’t very great, yet it was a matter of eight pound apiece, and that was better than nothing. Me and my pals came back to London, and sold Ralph Farefield’s jewelry to Solomon Patch. So, all things considering, we did not return quite empty-handed.”’ ‘“ And that is all you have to tell me? ’’ observed Madge Somers, as Chiffin the Cannibal left off speaking. “ Yes, that’s all, and enough, too, I should think,” he answered, with one of his grim smiles. “‘ Wasn’t it a precious string of adventures? But, by the bye, I may tell you that the Doctor Ferney I have been speaking about has since become a very celebrated man. Bob Shakerly told me so. Ah! Bob’s an old man now, and does nothing in the resur- rection line. Subjects have got so precious cheap since the law was altered, and doctors can get hold of poor people that die in hospitals, and workhouse paupers, and convicts. But Bob is doing pretty well, though, in another line; he keeps a knacker’s yard down at Cow Cross, Sharp’s Alley, I think it 1s — you must know whereabouts I mean? So, having dug up human bodies for the doctors to dissect, he now buys old horses which he dissects himself for cats’ meat and sausages. But it’s precious late, Madge, and I think I have had quite enough brandy and water, so I will be off. Gomichbooks (E(@)