Within, the hut presented such an appearance as might be expected, from
its owner's pursuits and its own unpromising exterior. Consisting of
little more than a couple of rooms, the rude whitewashed walls
exhibited, in lieu of prints of more pretension, a gallery of
choicely-illustrated ballads, celebrating the exploits of various
highwaymen, renowned in song, amongst which our friend Dick Turpin
figured conspicuously upon his sable steed, Bess being represented by a
huge rampant black patch, and Dick, with a pistol considerably longer
than the arm that sustained it. Next to this curious collection was a
drum-net, a fishing-rod, a landing-net, an eel-spear, and other
piscatorial apparatus, with a couple of sculls and a boat-hook,
indicative of Jem's ferryman's office, suspended by various hooks; the
whole blackened and begrimed by peat-smoke, there being no legitimate
means of _exit_ permitted to the vapor generated by the turf-covered
hearthstone. The only window, indeed, in the hut, was to the front; the
back apartment, which served Jem for dormitory, had no aperture whatever
for the admission of light, except such as was afforded through the door
of communication between the rooms. A few broken rush-bottomed chairs,
with a couple of dirty tables, formed the sum total of the ferryman's
furniture.
Notwithstanding the grotesque effect of his exaggerated nasal organ,
Jem's aspect was at once savage and repulsive; his lank black hair hung
about his inflamed visage in wild elf locks, the animal predominating
throughout; his eyes were small, red, and wolfish, and glared
suspiciously from beneath his scarred and tufted eyebrows; while certain
of his teeth projected, like the tusks of a boar, from out his
coarse-lipped, sensual mouth. Dwarfish in stature, and deformed in
person, Jem was built for strength; and what with his width of shoulder
and shortness of neck, his figure looked as square and as solid as a
cube. His throat and hirsute chest, constantly exposed to the weather,
had acquired a glowing tan, while his arms, uncovered to the shoulders,
and clothed with fur, like a bear's hide, down, almost, to the tips of
his fingers, presented a knot of folded muscles, the concentrated force
of which few would have desired to encounter in action.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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