England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- England -- Fiction
“Yes; we tell no tales here,” observed another: “a ditch in th' woods is
longer than th' longest tongue that ever spoke.”
“What, you think,” added the first speaker, “a crack on th' scull, and
two or three shovelfuls of dirt, soon stops a gabbler, do ye? Ay, by
Go'! you're right, lad, there; and so it does.”
An uncouth laugh, which went nearly round the company, at once evinced
their sense of the facetiousness of this remark, and showed the feeling
of indifference with which nearly all present regarded a remedy for
tale-telling of the kind here suggested; but, in the mean time, the
individual whose appearance in the house had elicited these remarks, had
been conducted, with her young charge, into a small inner room, where
we will leave her conversing with Mrs. Mallory, or preparing for very
needful rest, as the case may be. Scarcely, however, had she passed out
of hearing, before some inquiry was made by the ruffian who had first
spoken, and whose name, it may be observed, was David Shaw, as to the
family and genealogy of old Jerry Clink, “Because,” he observed, “this
woman called herself a Clink; and, as Jerry will be here to-night, I
thought they might be summut related.”
The explanation given by another of the company in reply, went on to
state that at the time when Jerry was doing well in business he had
two daughters, whom he brought up like two ladies: “But I thought there
would soon be an end of that,” continued the speaker, “and so there was.
The old man was getting on too fast by half; so that when his creditors
came on him, and he'd all this finery to pay for, he found he'd been
sailing in shallow water; and away he went off to prison. What became
of the gals I don't know exactly; but, if my memory be right, one of
'em died; and t' other was obliged to take up with a place in a
confectioner's shop. I don't know how true it is; but report said,
after that, that Mrs. Longstaff here, the steward's wife at th' hall,
persuaded her to go over as a sort of school-missis to her children;
though, if that had been the case, she could not have been coming to
such a house as this at twelve o'clock at night, and especially with two
of th' children along wi' her. Thou mun be mistaken, David, i' th' name,
I think.”
“Am I?” said David sourly; “then _I_ think not.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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