The Cornhill Magazine, Vol. I, January 1860Various
General
The Cornhill Magazine, Vol. I, January 1860
Various
England -- Periodicals; English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
Prior, his sister, would nurse me like a mother. So, in a word, I
went to Prior’s: I took the rooms: I was attracted by some children:
Amelia Jane (that little dirty maid before mentioned) dragging a
go-cart, containing a little dirty pair; another marching by them,
carrying a fourth well nigh as big as himself. These little folks,
having threaded the mighty flood of Regent Street, debouched into the
quiet creek of Beak Street, just as I happened to follow them. And the
door at which the small caravan halted,--the very door I was in search
of,--was opened by Elizabeth, then only just emerging from childhood,
with tawny hair falling into her solemn eyes.
The aspect of these little people, which would have deterred many,
happened to attract me. I am a lonely man. I may have been ill-treated
by some one once, but that is neither here nor there. If I had had
children of my own, I think I should have been good to them. I thought
Prior a dreadful vulgar wretch, and his wife a scheming, greedy little
woman. But the children amused me: and I took the rooms, liking to hear
overhead in the morning the patter of their little feet. The person I
mean has several;--husband, judge in the West Indies. _Allons_! now you
know how I came to live at Mrs. Prior’s.
Though I am now a steady, a _confirmed_ old bachelor (I shall call
myself Mr. Batchelor, if you please, in this story; and there is some
one far--far away who knows why I will NEVER take another title), I
was a gay young fellow enough once. I was not above the pleasures of
youth: in fact, I learned quadrilles on purpose to dance with her
that long vacation when I went to read with my young friend Lord
Viscount Poldoody at Dub--psha! Be still, thou foolish heart! Perhaps I
mis-spent my time as an undergraduate. Perhaps I read too many novels,
occupied myself too much with “elegant literature” (that used to be our
phrase), and spoke too often at the Union, where I had a considerable
reputation. But those fine words got me no college prizes: I missed my
fellowship: was rather in disgrace with my relations afterwards, but
had a small independence of my own, which I eked out by taking a few
pupils for little goes and the common degree. At length, a relation
dying, and leaving me a farther small income, I left the university,
and came to reside in London.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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