Arrah Neil; or, Times of OldJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"And so you think, ma'am, that you will be able to get me Master Hugh
O'Donnell's right address by to-morrow morning?"
"I am certain of it," replied the landlady, who thought there was no
great harm in a little confidence, whatever might be the result.
Arrah Neil looked down in silent thought, and then raised her large,
bright eyes with an inquiring look in the landlady's face; while Mr.
Dry, as if in a fit of absentness, took up the glass, and sipped
nearly one half of the contents before he recollected what he was
about. He then, however, set it down suddenly, and inquired--
"Pray, can you tell me if Mr. Twigg the drysalter is now in Hull? A
God-fearing and saintly man, Mrs. White, who used to hold forth to the
edification of a flock that was wont to assemble at the tabernacle in
Backwater alley."
"Oh, dear! yes, sir, he is in Hull," replied Mrs. White. "I saw the
good gentleman only yesterday."
"Then I will go and visit him presently," answered Mr. Dry.
"Humble-minded folks may always profit much of godly conversation; and
to do him but justice, he is always ready to use his spiritual gifts
for the benefit of others."
Thus speaking, Mr. Dry, after contemplating the glass for a moment,
seemed to come to the conclusion that there was no use of leaving in
it the little that remained. He accordingly tossed it off with a
sudden motion of the hand, and then set it resolutely down upon the
table again, as if defying the landlady, the Hollands, or the devil,
to tempt him to take another drop.
The fiend and women, however have generally more than one way of
accomplishing their object, and consequently Mrs. White, after having
pronounced a eulogium on the graces of Mr. Twigg, and his friend
Master Theophilus Longbone, the hemp-merchant, who was likewise an
acquaintance of her guest's, she set down the bottle carelessly by Mr.
Dry's side, and retired into a little room, with a glass window
towards the passage, so constructed as to afford a view of the door of
the house, with those of the chambers on the ground floor, and also of
the foot of the stairs.
Here she remained for about half-an-hour, while sundry persons came in
and out, spoke to her or to some of her attendant satellites, paid
money, received change, brought in goods for sale, amongst which it
may be as well to record six pairs of very fine pigeons in a basket,
or applied for small quantities of cordials, which sometimes they
drank upon the spot, sometimes carried away in phials.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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