Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Egan Pierce

appears to improve your manners wonderfully; and I dare say if you had staid away another month, your old friends would not have known you.”

      This created a laugh among the party, which roused Bob from his reverie, who, turning round rather hastily, trod with considerable force upon the gouty toe of an old debauchee in spectacles, who, in the height of ecstasy, was at that moment entering into a treaty of amity with a pretty rosy-faced little girl, and chucking her under the

      1 The names of Elliston, Pope, Johnston, Powell, Dowton,

      Munden, Holland, Wallack, Knight, T. Cooke, Oxberry, Smith,

      Bromley, &c. are to be found on the male list of Performers,

      and it is sincerely to be hoped that of Mr. Kean will not

      long be absent. The females are, Mrs. Davison, Mrs. Glover,

      Miss Kelly, Mrs. Bland, Mrs. Orger, Mrs. Sparks, Miss

      Wilson, Miss Byrne, Miss Cubitt, &c.

      chin, as a sort of preliminary, to be succeeded by a ratification; for in all probability gratification was out of the question. However this might be, the pain occasioned by the sudden movement of Tallyho, who had not yet learned to trip it lightly along the mutton walk,{1} induced the sufferer to roar out most lustily, a circumstance which immediately attracted the attention of every one in the room, and in a moment they were surrounded by a group of lads and lasses.

      “Upon my soul, Sir,” stammer'd out Bob, “I beg your pardon, I—I—did not mean—”

      “Oh! oh! oh!” continued the gouty Amoroso. Mother K——p{2} came running like lightning with a glass of water; the frail sisterhood were laughing, nodding, whispering, and winking at each other; while St——ns,{3} who pick'd up the spectacles the unfortunate victim of the gout had dropp'd, swore that fellow in the green coat and white hat ought to be sent to some dancing-school, to learn to step without kicking people's shins.

      Another declared he was a Johnny-raw,{4} just catched, and what could be expected.

      Tom, who, however, kept himself alive to the passing occurrences, stepping up to Bob, was immediately recognized by all around him, and passing a significant wink, declared it was an accident, and begged to assist the Old Buck to a seat, which being accomplished, he declared he had not had his shoe on for a week, but as he found himself able to walk, he could not resist the temptation of taking a look around him.

      Over a bottle of wine the unpleasant impressions made by this unfortunate occurrence appeared to be removed. In the mean time, Tom received a hundred congratulations and salutations; while Sparkle, after a glass or two, was missing.

      Dashall informed the friends around him, that his Cousin was a pupil of his, and begged to introduce him

      1 Mutton Walk—A flash term recently adopted to denominate

      the Saloon.

      2 A well known fruit-woman, who is in constant attendance,

      well acquainted with the girls and their protectors, and

      ready upon all occasions to give or convey information for

      the benefit of both parties.

      3 St——ns—A very pretty round-faced young lady-bird, of

      rather small figure, inclining to be lusty.

      4 Johnny Raw—A country bumpkin.

      as a future visitor to this gay scene. This had an instantaneous effect upon the trading fair ones, who began immediately to throw out their lures. One declared he had a sweet pretty brooch; another, that she knew he was a trump by the cut of his jib; a third, that he look'd like a gentleman, for she liked the make of his mug; a fourth, that his hat was a very pretty shaped one, although it was of a radical colour; and while Tom and the ladybird{l} were soothing the pains of the grey-headed wanton, Bob was as busily employed in handing about the contents of the bottle. A second and a third succeeded, and it was not a little astonishing to him that every bottle improved his appearance; for, though not one of his admirers remained long with him, yet the absence of one only brought another, equally attracted by his look and manner: every one declared he was really a gentleman in every respect, and in the course of their short parley, did not fail to slip a card into his hand. By this time he began to grow chatty, and was enabled to rally in turn the observations they made. He swore he lov'd them all round, and once or twice hummed over,

      “Dear creatures, we can't do without them,

      They're all that is sweet and seducing to man,

      Looking, sighing about, and about them,

      We doat on them—do for them, all that we can.”

      The play being over, brought a considerable influx of company into the Saloon. The regular covies paired off with their covesses, and the moving panorama of elegance and fashion presented a scene that was truly delightful to Bob.

      The Ladybird, who had been so attentive to the gouty customer, now wished him a good night, for, said she, “There is my friend,{2} and so I am off.” This seemed only to increase the agony of his already agonized toe, notwithstanding which he presently toddled off, and was seen no more for the evening.

      “What's become of Sparkle,” enquired Tom. “Stole away,” was the reply.

      “Tipp'd us the double, has he,” said Dashall. “Well, what think you of Drury-lane?”

      1 Lady-bird—A dashing Cyprian.

      2 The term friend is in constant use among accessible

      ladies, and signifies their protector or keeper.

      “'Tis a very delightful tragedy indeed, but performed in the most comical manner I ever witnessed in my life.”

      “Pshaw!” said Bob, “very few indeed, except the critics and the plebs, come here to look at the play; they come to see and be seen.”

      “Egad then,” said Bob, “a great many have been gratified to-night, and perhaps I have been highly honoured, for every person that has passed me has complimented me with a stare.”

      “Which of course you did not fail to return?”

      “Certainly not; and upon my soul you have a choice show of fruit here.”

      “Yes,” continued Tom, “London is a sort of hot-house, where fruit is forced into ripeness by the fostering and liberal sun of Folly, sooner than it would be, if left to its natural growth. Here however, you observe nothing but joyful and animated features, while perhaps the vulture of misery is gnawing at the heart. I could give you histories of several of these unfortunates,{1}

      1 A life of prostitution is a life fraught with too many

      miseries to be collected in any moderate compass. The mode

      in which they are treated, by parties who live upon the

      produce of their infamy, the rude and boisterous, nay, often

      brutal manner in which they are used by those with whom they

      occasionally associate, and the horrible reflections of

      their own minds, are too frequently and too fatally

      attempted to be obliterated by recourse to the Bacchanalian

      fount. Reason becomes obscured, and all decency and

      propriety abandoned. Passion rules predominantly until it

      extinguishes itself, and leaves the wretched victim of early

      delusion, vitiated both in body and mind, to drag on a

      miserable existence, without character, without friends, and

      almost without hope. There is unfortunately, however, no

      occasion for the