The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

104 REYNOLDS’ WORKS dilapidated and broken it seemed as if the slightest touch would send them crumbling into dust; others which were somewhat better preserved, others again which evidently be- longed to a still more recent period, and two or three which seemed as if it were only within the last few years that they had taken their places in the midst of that family receptacle. ‘* Well, it is strange,’ continued the old man in his audible musings, “‘ that I can’t at once hit upon the place where this newcomer shall be deposited to-morrow. I suppose my intellect is not as clear as it used to be, and I know that it takes me twice as long to dig a grave in the yard as it did a matter of twenty years back. But then I’m twenty years older, and perhaps I ought to be thinking of who will dig my own grave. Whoever he is, it won’t be the same as the one who is to act as clerk, for when I am dead and gone the offices are to be separated. That I know fora fact. I shall look out for an assistant; the people die fast in this village, small as it is, but then there’s an astonishing number of old people here. It would really seem as if they had lived on with an understanding that when they all came to a certain date they should die off as fast as possible. Yes, I will have an assistant.’’ Having arrived at this conclusion, Jonathan Carnabie slowly and deliberately drew forth from his pocket a toler- ably large flask, and it was also well filled, as the Burker could judge by the way in which the old man put it to his lips. The draught he took was a moderate one, and then he consigned the flask back again to his pocket. ‘Yes, an assistant,’ resumed Jonathan, in his audible musings; “‘ it is all very fine to talk about an assistant, but where is one to be found? If I cast my eye over all the stout young chaps at Woodbridge and roundabout, I cannot think of one that will in any way do. None of them like old Jonathan, as I know the rascals call me, — Heaven for- give me for using such a strong term as rascals in a church. But about the assistant, — where is he to be found? ” The old man paused, and took another small draught from his flask, as if he thought it would sharpen his intellects and help on his reflections. But now there were two cir- cumstances which had acquired a peculiar interest for Mr. Barnes, whose countenance was cooling itself against the iron bar of the window. ‘The first was that the old sexton wanted ECORMIClIOO KS (E(0)