Sketches by Boz, Illustrative of Every-Day Life and Every-Day PeopleDickens, Charles
General
Sketches by Boz, Illustrative of Every-Day Life and Every-Day People
Dickens, Charles
London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century; London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
We were so lost in these meditations, that we had turned into the
street, and run up against a door-post, before we recollected where we
were walking. On looking upwards to see what house we had stumbled
upon, the words ‘Prerogative-Office,’ written in large characters, met
our eye; and as we were in a sight-seeing humour and the place was a
public one, we walked in.
The room into which we walked, was a long, busy-looking place,
partitioned off, on either side, into a variety of little boxes, in
which a few clerks were engaged in copying or examining deeds. Down the
centre of the room were several desks nearly breast high, at each of
which, three or four people were standing, poring over large volumes.
As we knew that they were searching for wills, they attracted our
attention at once.
It was curious to contrast the lazy indifference of the attorneys’
clerks who were making a search for some legal purpose, with the air of
earnestness and interest which distinguished the strangers to the
place, who were looking up the will of some deceased relative; the
former pausing every now and then with an impatient yawn, or raising
their heads to look at the people who passed up and down the room; the
latter stooping over the book, and running down column after column of
names in the deepest abstraction.
There was one little dirty-faced man in a blue apron, who after a whole
morning’s search, extending some fifty years back, had just found the
will to which he wished to refer, which one of the officials was
reading to him in a low hurried voice from a thick vellum book with
large clasps. It was perfectly evident that the more the clerk read,
the less the man with the blue apron understood about the matter. When
the volume was first brought down, he took off his hat, smoothed down
his hair, smiled with great self-satisfaction, and looked up in the
reader’s face with the air of a man who had made up his mind to
recollect every word he heard. The first two or three lines were
intelligible enough; but then the technicalities began, and the little
man began to look rather dubious. Then came a whole string of
complicated trusts, and he was regularly at sea. As the reader
proceeded, it was quite apparent that it was a hopeless case, and the
little man, with his mouth open and his eyes fixed upon his face,
looked on with an expression of bewilderment and perplexity
irresistibly ludicrous.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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