Stephen Archer, and Other Tales - BestLightNovel.com
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_Wat_. Let me see:--to-morrow night--on the steps of St. Martin's Church--ten o'clock.
_Bill_. But if I don't find her? It may be a week--or a month--or--
_Wat_. Come whether you find her or not, and let me know.
_Bill_. All serene, sir! There you are, sir! Brush your trousers, sir?
_Wat_. No; leave 'em.--Don't forget now.
_Bill_. Honour bright, sir! Not if I knows it, sir!
_Wat_. There's that other skid, you know.
_Bill_. All right, sir! Anything more, sir?
_Wat_. d.a.m.n your impudence! Get along.
_Exit_. BILL _watches him into_ MRS. CLIFFORD'S.
_Bill_. Now by all the 'ungry gums of Arabiar, 'ere's a swell arter our Mattie!--A right rig'lar swell! I knows 'em--soverings an' red socks. What's come to our Mattie? 'Ere's Daddy Longlegs arter her, vith his penny and his blessin'! an' 'ere's this 'ere mighty swell vith his soverings--an' his red socks! An' she's 'ungry, poor gal!--This 'ere yellow-boy?--I 'ain't got no faith in swells--no more 'n in Daddy Longlegses--I 'ain't!--S'posin' he wants to marry her?--Not if I knows it. He ain't half good 'nough for _her_. Too many quids--goin' a flingin' on 'em about like b.u.t.tons! He's been a crackin' o' cribs--_he_ has. I ain't a goin' to interduce our Mattie to no sich blokes as him. No fathers or lovyers for me--says I!--But this here pebble o' Paradise!--What's to be done wi' the cherub? I can't tell _her_ a lie about it, an' who'll break it up for a cove like me, lookin' jes' as if I'd been an' tarred myself and crep'
through a rag-bag! They'd jug me. An' what 'ud Mattie say then? I wish I 'adn't 'a' touched it. I'm blowed if I don't toss it over a bridge!--Then the gent 'ain't got the weight on his dunop out o' me. O Lord! what _shall_ I do with it? I wish I'd skied it in his face! I don't believe it's a good un; I don't! (_Bites it_.) It do taste wery nasty. It's nothin' better 'n a gilt fardin'! Jes' what a cove might look for from sich a swell! (_Goes to a street lamp and examines it_.) Lor! there's a bobby! (_Exit. Re-enter to the lamp_.) I wish the gen'leman 'ad guv me a penny. I can't do nothin' wi' this 'ere quid.
Vere am I to put it? I 'ain't got no pocket, an' if I was to stow it in my 'tato-trap, I couldn't wag my red rag--an' Mother Madge 'ud soon have me by the chops. Nor I've got noveres to plant it.--O Lor! it's all I've got, an' Madge lets n.o.body go to bed without the tuppence.
It's all up with Bill--_for_ the night!--Where's the odds!--there's a first-cla.s.s hotel by the river--The Adelphi Arches, they calls it--where they'll take me in fast enough, and I can go to sleep with it in my cheek. Coves is past talkin' to you there. n.o.body as sees me in that 'ere 'aunt of luxury, 'ill take me for a millionaire vith a skid in his mouth. 'Tain't a bit cold to-night neither (_going_).--Vy do they say a _aunt_ of luxury? I s'pose acause she's wife to my uncle. _Exit_.
_Slow music. The night pa.s.ses. A policeman crosses twice_. THOMAS _crosses between. Dawn_.
_Re-enter_ BILL.
_Bill_. I'm hanged if this here blasted quid ain't a burnin' of me like a red-hot fardin'! I'm blest if I've slep' more 'n half the night. I woke up oncet, with it a slippin' down red lane. I wish I had swallered it. Then n.o.body 'd 'a' ast me vere I got it. I don't wonder as rich coves turn out sich a bad lot. I believe the devil's in this 'ere!
_Knocks at_ MRS. CLIFFORD'S door. JAMES _opens. Is shutting it again_. BILL _shoves in his stool_.
_Bill_. Hillo, Blazes! where's your manners? Is that the way you behaves to callers on your gov'nor's business?
_James (half opening the door_). Get about your own business, you imperent boy!
_Bill_. I'm about it now, young man. I wants to see your gov'nor.
_James_. _You_'ve got business with _him_, have you, eh?
_Bill_. Amazin' prec.o.xity! You've hit it! I _have_ got business with _him_, Door-post--not in the wery smallest with _you_, Door-post!--essep' the knife-boy's been and neglected of your feet-bags this mornin'. (JAMES _would slam the door_. BILL _shoves in his stool_.) Don't you try that 'ere little game again, young man! for if I loses my temper and takes to hollerin', you'll wish yourself farther.
_James_. A humbug you are! I 'ain't got no gov'nor, boy. The master as belongs to me is a mis'ess.
_Bill_. Then that 'ere gen'lemen as comes an' goes, ain't your master--eh?
_James_. What gen'leman, stoopid?
_Bill_. Oh! it don't matter.
_James_. What _have--you--got_ to say to _him_?
_Bill_. Some'at pickled: it'll keep.
_James_. I'll give him a message, if you like.
_Bill_. Well, you may tell him the bargain's hoff, and if he wants his money, it's a waitin' of him round the corner.
_James_. You little blackguard! Do you suppose a gen'leman's a goin'
to deliver sich a message as that! Be off, you himp! (_Makes a dart at him_.)
_Bill_ (_dodging him_). How d'e do, Clumsy? Don't touch me; I ain't nice. Why, what was you made for, Parrot? Is them calves your own rearin' now? Is that a quid or a fardin? Have a shot, now, s.h.i.+ns.
_James_. None o' your imperence, young blackie! 'And me over the money, and I'll give it to the gen'leman.
_Bill_. Do you see anything peticlar green in my eye, Rainbow?
JAMES _makes a rush_. BILL _gets down before him_. JAMES _tumbles over him_. BILL _blacks his face with his brush_.
_Bill_ (_running a little way_). Ha! ha! ha! Bill s...o...b..ack--his mark!
Who's blackie now? You owes me a penny--twopence--'twor sich a ugly job! Ain't s.h.i.+ny? I'll come back and s.h.i.+ne ye for another penny. Good mornin', Jim Crow! Take my adwice, and don't on no account apply your winegar afore you've opened your hoyster. Likeways: b.u.t.ter don't melt on a cold tater. _Exit_.
_Exit_ JAMES _into the house, banging the door_.
_Enter_ WATERFIELD, _followed by BILL_.
_Bill_. Please, sir, I been a watchin' for you.
_Wat_. Go to the devil!
_Bill_. I'd rayther not. So there's your suv'ring!
_Wat_. Go along. Meet me where I told you.
_Bill_. I won't. There's yer skid.
_Wat_. Be off, or I'll give you in charge. Hey! Policeman! _Exit_.
_Bill_. Well, I'm blowed! This quid '11 be the hangin' o' me! _d.a.m.n you_! (_Throws it fiercely on the ground and stamps on it_.) Serves me right for chaffin' the old un! He didn't look a bad sort--_for_ a gov'nor.--Now I reflexes, I heerd Mattie spoony on some father or other, afore. O Lord! I'll get Jim and Jack to help me look out for him. (_Enter_ THOMAS.) Lor' ha' mussy!--talk o' the old un!--I'm wery peticlar glad as I found you, daddy. I been a lookin' for ye--leastways I was a goin' to look for ye this wery moment as you turns up. I chaffed you like a zorologicle monkey yesterday, daddy, an' I'm wery sorry. But you see fathers ain't nice i' this 'ere part o' the continent. (_Enter_ JAMES, _in plain clothes, watching them_.) They ain't no good nohow to n.o.body. If _I_ wos a husband and a father, I don't know as how I should be A One, myself. P'r'aps I might think it wur my turn to break arms and legs. I knowed more 'n one father as did. It's no wonder the boys is a plaguy lot, daddy.
_Tho._ Goo away, boy. Dosto yer, aw've seen so mich wickedness sin' aw coom to Lon'on, that aw dunnot knaw whether to breighk thi yed, or to goo wi' tho? There be thieves and there be robbers.
_Bill_. Never fear, daddy. You ain't worth robbin' of, I don't think.
_Tho._ How dosto knaw that? Aw've moore 'n I want to lose abeawt mo.
_Bill_. Then Mattie 'ill have som'at to eat--will she, daddy?
_Tho._ Som'at to eight, boy! Be mo Mattie hungry--dun yo think?