Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XI.—April, 1851—Vol. II.Various
General
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XI.—April, 1851—Vol. II.
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
Such is the pilchard fishery of Cornwall--a small unit, indeed, in the
vast aggregate of England's internal sources of wealth: but yet, neither
unimportant nor uninteresting, if it be regarded as giving active
employment to a hardy and honest race who would starve without it, as
impartially extending the advantages of commerce to one of the remotest
corners of our island, and--more than all--as displaying a wise and
beautiful provision of Nature, by which the rich tribute of the great
deep is most generously lavished on the land which most needs a
compensation for its own sterility.
[From Dickens's Household Words.]
LUCY CAWTHORNE.--A TALE BY A BACHELOR CLERK.
The office of clerk of the Carvers' Company has been filled by members
of my family for one hundred years past. My great-grandfather was
elected in the year 1749. After him, came his younger brother; and, when
he died, my grandfather was chosen by nine votes out of twelve; after
that, all opposition vanished: our dynasty was established. When my
grandfather died, my father went through the ceremony of calling upon
the members of the Court of Assistants, and soliciting their votes; and,
afterward, the formality of a show of hands being passed, he was
declared, as every one knew he would be who was aware of the existence
of the Carvers' Company, the successor of his father. The transition
from him to myself was so easy as to be hardly felt. When I threw aside
my yellow breeches, and came out of the "Blue-Coat School," with some
knowledge of Greek, and very small skill in penmanship, I was at once
transplanted to a stool at my father's desk; which stood railed off, in
a corner of the great hall, under the stained-glass window. The master
and twelve senior liverymen, who formed what is called the Court of
Assistants, saw me there when they met together; and one patted me on
the head, and prophesied great things of me, while I sat, very red in
the face, wondering who had been talking to him about me. Another, who
had himself worn the girdle and blue-petticoats, some half a century
previously, examined my classical knowledge; and, finding himself
somewhat at fault, remarked that he was not fresh from school, like me.
At length, my father and I attended their meetings alternately; and, as
he became old and infirm, the duties devolved entirely upon me. When he
died, therefore, there was no change. The twelve liverymen held up
twelve of their four-and-twenty hands, and my election was recorded on
the minutes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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