The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 252: what you’re looking at

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

THE INQUEST 235 “The magnificence of the place, I suppose? ’”’ observed Harold. : ““Magnificence of fiddlesticks,”’ exclaimed Chiffin. “ No, not that. I mean I was astonished at the rum figures I saw, and the lots of toggery spread out on every side. I really fancied the whole twelve tribes of Israel — there was twelve, wasn’t there? Ah, I thought so. Well, the whole of the twelve tribes seemed to be thcre. Men, and women, and children, all Jews, and no mistake, save and except a few Christians like me, that came as buyers. Your lordship smiles, but I suppose you call yourself a Christian, and why shouldn’t I? Howsumever, there I was in the middle of that Exchange, surrounded by such quantities of clothes of all shapes, sizes, and colours that there was enough to suit and fit a whole tribe of naked Indians, if any of them mis- sionary societies should be at a loss for toggery to send out to clothe them with. And such a clatter of voices, too; it was as stunning as Babel. Presently I saw one venerable old Jew in a gabardine, with a long beard, a pair of top-boots in one hand, and his bag over his shoulder; and he looked uncommon suspicious at me, as if he thought I meant to take an advantage of him. The idea of an innocent say- nothing-to-nobody sort of a genelman like me fancying he could take in a Jew! But I presently recollected that I had seen this identical old file at the Billy Goat, — that’s a public- house in Agar Town, — and I got rather funky. For thinks I to myself, the old file might go and peach for the sake of the reward. So, as he was looking at me askance from under his battered old hat, I turned toward a stall, and snatching up a pair of unmentionables, asked the price. A shambling, lanky feller of a Jew, with a long frock coat on that was never made for him, — and he too was carrying a pair of boots in his hand, — asks me thirty shillings, swearing they was dirt cheap and that he would losc by the bargain. I was just telling him, in no very complimentary terms, that I thought it a dead take-in, when a voice whispered over my shoulder, ‘ They’ll be very cheap, Mr. Chiffin, at a hundred pounds.’ Now, my lord, I’m no coward, I scarce know what cowardice is, but, ’pon my soul, any one might have knocked me down with a straw, for without turning my head I knew uncommon well it was that old rascal of a Jew with the long beard and greasy gabardine. So then CONnNIEDOOKS (©)