Cradock Nowell, Vol. 2 (of 3)

time to track the steps of him whom Fortune, blithe at her cruel trade, shall track as far as Gades, Cantaber, and wild Syrtes, where the

poverty, the bride without a dower." "A very fine sentiment, Master Horace; but were you not a little too fo

n, before he got very far from Amy, and while her tears were still o

giance, and the swearing of fealty to the brother. To which conclusion the tender mode in which she was being carried conduced, perhaps, considerably; for she was wrapped in Clayton?s woolly jacket,

keepsake, "you shall go with me wherever I go. You are faithful e

e of all her misery, Amy had kept her pretty plump, plumper than she herself was; and

for him. As he would not let her do this, she occupied her mind with the rabbits, which were out

t, Cavendish–square,"-I quote from the lady?s bags: confound it, there! I am always saying improper things; honi soit-I

nd not the great janua mundi. He found his classical scholarship, his early fame at Oxford

and you won?t bear to be spoken to, even if you stick to your work; which, I assure you, is quite the exception. Then you hold yourself aloof, with your stupid etiquette, from the other young men, who are quite as good as you are. I assure you

adock?s face proved that the princ

pon the increase? At any rate, one cause of it is being removed most rapidly; for the buckram etiquette

apply to any of his father?s friends, or of the people whom he had known in London, to help him in this emergency. He would rather starve than do that; for he had dropped all name and claim of Nowell, and cut his life in twain at manh

ever did so. It would have kept him to his identity, which (so far as the world was concerned) he wished to change entirely, immediately, and irrevocably. So he called himself "Nowell" no longer-although the nam

of literature, but the door would not swing back for him. The mare magnum-to mix metaphors, although bars are added to the Lucrine-the mare magnum of letters was mo

e publishers upon whom he called we

is manuscript, "we cannot take it on our own account; and, if

he first surprise; "is there no

s, by advertising continually, by influence among the reviewers, by hitting some popular vein, or being taken up by some authority, you might a

when compared with some whom it might have been his evil luck to consult. They advertise their patent methods of putting a work before the public, without any ri

any of them. So he accepted the verdict so unanimously returned, and stored away with a heavy heart his laborious little manuscript. It was only

–street which, for misery and poverty, dirt and desperation,

hings, acting upon a sad lone heart, and a bold mind beginning to think for itself, had made the owner an infidel? And very likely they would have done so, when he was removed from John Rosedew?s influence, but for that scene with Amy. He loved that girl so warmly, so devotedly, so purely, that, when he found his love returned in equal quantity and quality, it renewed his faith in justice. He saw that there is a measure and law, even where al

shall never form nor educate-which truth alone to a great heart might be conclusive against that

ies, which still exist and try to cheat us under the name of "Society." The cant is going by already. Every man who dares to t

e inches of brick or two inches of deal; the wealth and the want, the feast and the famine, the satiety and the ravening, the euphemy and the blasphemy-though sometimes that last got inside the door, blew its nose, and was infidelity; the prudery and the indecency, the whispered lie and the yelled one, the sale of maid

could not do much; and he tried to help in little ways, though as yet he had no experience. He b

ng them. In one thing he was right, although he had no experience; he confined his exertions to a very narrow compass. Of course he got imposed upon-of course he he

I wish I had a heap of money," said Cradock, every day; "I must keep some for myself, I su

d the good done to him was threefold as much as he could do to others. Every day he grew less selfis

ng of the waves)-a stone as grey and foggy–looking;-as ever Deucalion took the trouble to cast away over the left into an empty world. Yet it has, through the heart of it, traversing it from pole to pole (for its shape is always conical) a threa

h a hammer, as too many do of our Boanerg?; but he was too young to see or feel the chord of the golden siphuncle.

at the heart of him. If my pluck were up a little more. I?d fight hi

ntions-at least, when he took to the cuddy; but his horses had pulled crosswise

cried, when Cradock came near him; though the yo

hn Bunyan?s business. Moreover, Jupp was wonderfully jealous of his wife, a gentle but grimy woman, forty–five years old, whom he larruped ever

ose education has been neglected, of a hot and hasty order. Not that we need suppose the pepper to

ay along the sacks which towered above its head, like bulky snow–giants embrowned with thaw; and then by the legs of the "tatie–bin," with the great scales hanging above it, and then by the heap of lighting–wood, piled

trap, where the black bogeys lives. Bless my heart, if it ain?t little Loo! Why, Loo, I hardly knew you. You a

een very pretty, if her mother would have let her hair alone. But it was all combed back, and tied tightly behind, like the tail of a horse at a fair, or as affording a spout to pour the little girl out b

the heart of it-"and father don from home, ma?am, on the Wasintote" [Basingstoke canal], "and mo

he grey edge still upon it, wriggled in and out of her shape and self, in the way only ch

it, Loo? Oh, you poor little

utside so many are sacrificed; without circumlocution, the counter. Her eyes were below the rim of it, till she stood upon tiptoe with one foot, while th

goin to make a 'tew, tree ha?porth of tipe and

orth of taties, and a farthing?s worth of onions. And you shall have them, my dear, and as goo

down it. She had not yet lost her appe

ce room inside; though some will be for mother, won?t

ad told her, that the Ducksacres now were getting so high, they would soon leave off making

iked-"I am sure you can?t carry a ha?porth. Oh, Mr. Newman, you are so good–natured"-Cradock was just coming in, rather glum fro

I would not," replied

only Sally is out, and the boy gone home ever so long ago. I beg yo

t I should rather hope I would not think it below me to go home with this little dear. If I could suppose it any disgrace to me, I should deserve to be kicked by

arms to Cradock. All the children loved him, as the little ones at Nowelhurst wo

drew a thousand straws of light through her lashes from the gas–jet, which she had never yet been so close to, "how hot

ing to her, "Loo dot wever; Irishers dot bad wever on the foor bel

le legs feel! And a shilling?s worth of grapes, if you please, in a bag by themselves. Here?s

more for cornopean–pattern with a pineapple, and grapes and oranges. But lor, sir, the cornopean" [cornucopi?] "would frighten half our customers. The b

eign grapes-Mrs. Ducksacre never bought English ones-and the best three farthing?s worth of potatoes and onions that was m

that trembling flame of life, and fostered it, and sheltered it, as if "the hopes of a nation hung"-as the penny–a–liners love to say of some babe not a whit more valuable-upon its feeble flicker. He hired another room for her, where the air

that, then--" and he lifted a great oak bludgeon, newly cut from the towing–path of the Basingstoke Canal. If Cradock had not been as qu

noise, man. Your child is at the p

he compliment as to the "pallor jecoris." The bargee turned so pale, that he looked like a collier?s t

ll he could say; "oh my

. We hope with all our hearts to save her, and to–night we shall know. Already I t

ever has described, nor shall, but which every bo

at chest heaving and wanting to sob, only it didn?t know the way; "[condemn] my eyes for swearing so, and making such

ation weakness; perhaps it was entered in whit

bottom of his nature, and not himself be splintered? I don?t believe that

out at this door, in at the other. Poor little soul! she has been so good. Yo

[condemning] myself enough," said Issachar Jupp,

scarded by turtle–dove quill–drivers for daring to record it, will he ever be worse f