The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 251: what you’re looking at

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

234 REYNOLDS’ WORKS" “ Sit down, my lord, and make yourself at home,” said the Cannibal. ‘“‘ Here’s brandy and water. If you’ve got a cigar you can hght it. I don’t mind smoke, or more does my landlady, as long as she gets the ready. You see I’m going to blow a cloud,’ and he lighted his pipe accordingly. ‘‘ You have had some strange adventures lately,’ observed Harold, looking rather suspiciously around the room, and not feeling overcomfortable in the Cannibal’s quarters, despite the kind invitation to make himself at home. ‘“ Adventures — ah!”’ growled Chiffin, “ rum ’uns enough, too. But as you was in Park Lane, I suppose you have been to see my very particklar and intimate friend her ladyship, and so she has no doubt told you all about it. But adven- tures are always tumbling down upon me, and a precious one I had this morning, too, I can tell you. You see, my lord, I thought this toggery of mine had better be changed, but as I didn’t like to walk right bang into a Regent Street tailor’s and order a fashionable suit, it struck me as how I would go down to the quarters where those honest folks of Jews deal in second-hand articles. They are not such impudent fellers as to ask any questions, if so be they only get their price. So having made up my mind to rig myself out afresh, and convert myself into a real genelman, — all the better to get out of the country, which I mean to do as soon as possible, —I toddled off toward Houndsditch. I needn’t tell your lordship that I don’t patronize the great thorough- fares, but keep as much as possible in the back lanes and alleys. That’s the way I take my walks. Well, at length I found myself in Houndsditch, and just past Phil’s Buildings stands the new Exchange — ”’ “The Exchange?” ejaculated Lord Harold. “I always thought it was on Cornhill, close by the Bank of Eng- land.”’ ‘Lord bless your lordship’s ignorance exclaimed Chiffn. ‘Il didn’t mean the Exchange where such tip-top fellers as Rothschild and them sort of coves go. I mean the Jews’ Exchange in Houndsditch. It was only built a year or two ago, by a Mr. Isaac, and so you may take your salva- tion oath he was a Jew by the name. Well, there’s a toll at the entrance, and I had to fork out a halfpenny for going in as a buyer. And when I did get in — for I had never been there before in my life -— I was astonished.” !»? CONNIE OO KS (E(0)