The history of the life and adventures of Mr. Duncan Campbell : $b a gentleman, who, tho' deaf and dumb, writes down any stranger's name at first sight, with their future contingencies of fortune
General
The history of the life and adventures of Mr. Duncan Campbell : $b a gentleman, who, tho' deaf and dumb, writes down any stranger's name at first sight, with their future contingencies of fortune
Campbell, Duncan, 1680?-1730; Deaf people -- Great Britain -- Biography; Occultism -- Early works to 1900; Prophets -- Great Britain -- Biography
The colour of a young woman there came and went a hundred times, if
possible, in the space of two minutes; she blushed like a red rose this
moment, and in the switch of an eyelash she was all over as pale as a
white one: the suitor, whose name her heart had gone pit-a-pat for the
space of an hour to be informed of from the pen of a seer, was now
deferred a whole day longer; she was once or twice within an ace of
swooning away, but he comforted her in particular, by telling her,
though he said it only by way of jest, that the day following would be a
more lucky day to consult about husbands than the present that she came
on. The answer was a kind of cordial to her hopes, and brought her a
little better to herself.
Two others, I remember, sisters and old maids, that it seems were
misers, women ordinarily dressed and in blue aprons, and yet, by
relation, worth no less than two thousand pounds each, were in a peck of
troubles about his going and leaving them unsatisfied. They came upon an
inquiry after goods that were stolen, and they complained that by next
morning at that time, the thief might be got far enough off, and creep
into so remote a corner, that he would put it beyond the power of the
devil and the art of conjuration to find him out and bring him back
again. The disturbance and anxiety that was to be seen in their
countenances was like that which is to be beheld in the face of a great
losing gamester, when his all, his last great stake, lies upon the
table, and is just sweeping off by another winning hand into his own
hat.
The next was a widow who bounced, because, as she pretended, he would
not tell her what was best to do with her sons, and what profession it
would be most happy for them to be put to; but in reality all the cause
of the widow's fuming and fretting, was not that she wanted to provide
for her sons, but for herself; she wanted a second husband, and was not
half so solicitous about being put in a way of educating those children
she had already, as of knowing when she should be in a likelihood of
getting more. This was certainly in her thoughts, or else she would
never have flounced about in her weed, from one end of the room to the
other, and all the while of her passion, smile by fits upon the
merchant, and leer upon a young pretty Irish fellow that was there. The
young Irishman made use of a little eye-language; she grew appeased,
went away in quite a good humour, scuttled too airily down stairs for a
woman in her clothes, and the reason was certainly that she knew the
matter before, which we took notice of presently after: the Irishman
went precipitately after her down stairs without taking his leave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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