'Well, you see, it was just as the old boy said--like the cut of a
whip,' said Herrick. 'The one minute I was here on the beach at three in
the morning, the next I was in front of the Golden Cross at midday.
At first I was dazzled, and covered my eyes, and there didn't seem the
smallest change; the roar of the Strand and the roar of the reef were
like the same: hark to it now, and you can hear the cabs and buses
rolling and the streets resound! And then at last I could look about,
and there was the old place, and no mistake! With the statues in
the square, and St Martin's-in-the-Fields, and the bobbies, and the
sparrows, and the hacks; and I can't tell you what I felt like. I felt
like crying, I believe, or dancing, or jumping clean over the Nelson
Column. I was like a fellow caught up out of Hell and flung down into
the dandiest part of Heaven. Then I spotted for a hansom with a spanking
horse. “A shilling for yourself, if you're there in twenty minutes!”
said I to the jarvey. He went a good pace, though of course it was a
trifle to the carpet; and in nineteen minutes and a half I was at the
door.'
'What door?' asked the captain.
'Oh, a house I know of,' returned Herrick.
'But it was a public-house!' cried the clerk--only these were not his
words. 'And w'y didn't you take the carpet there instead of trundling in
a growler?'
'I didn't want to startle a quiet street,' said the narrator.
'Bad form. And besides, it was a hansom.'
'Well, and what did you do next?' inquired the captain.
'Oh, I went in,' said Herrick.
'The old folks?' asked the captain.
'That's about it,' said the other, chewing a grass.
'Well, I think you are about the poorest 'and at a yarn!' cried the
clerk. 'Crikey, it's like Ministering Children! I can tell you there
would be more beer and skittles about my little jaunt. I would go and
have a B. and S. for luck. Then I would get a big ulster with astrakhan
fur, and take my cane and do the la-de-la down Piccadilly. Then I would
go to a slap-up restaurant, and have green peas, and a bottle of fizz,
and a chump chop--Oh! and I forgot, I'd 'ave some devilled whitebait
first--and green gooseberry tart, and 'ot coffee, and some of that form
of vice in big bottles with a seal--Benedictine--that's the bloomin'
nyme! Then I'd drop into a theatre, and pal on with some chappies,
and do the dancing rooms and bars, and that, and wouldn't go 'ome
till morning, till daylight doth appear. And the next day I'd have
water-cresses, 'am, muffin, and fresh butter; wouldn't I just, O my!'
The clerk was interrupted by a fresh attack of coughing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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