34 A TALE OF GIBLETTS. 



long year swept from Waithman's corner to Ludgate-hill, " being 

 of sound mind," left, we forget how many hundred pounds, as a por- 

 tion to Miss W. ! In truth, there have been strange doings among 

 sweepers : it behoves us to keep an eye on every man with a broom. 



Let us return to Bond-street there is the subject of our paper, 

 with the same restless visage ; and there is Mr. Spasm, eyeing him 

 with a mixed feeling of sympathy and curiosity. Observe the men- 

 dicant's face ; mark his large, black eye how anxiously it glances at 

 every customer entering yon butcher's shop : he half quits his sup- 

 plicating tone, and lets the passenger, unprayed, pass on, at every new 

 arrival. There another servant-maid he glances at her, watches 

 her like an ogre ; rivets his eyes upon her ; the butcher's man enters 

 into new orders. All the stronger passions seem to animate the 

 sweeper's visage ; fear, suspense, a hundred different emotions ripple 

 his face the butcher's men exeunt with their loaded trays, and take 

 no note of him. Again he sinks into comparative composure. Mr. 

 Spasm is about to cross the path; the sweeper, with one eye still 

 watching the other side of the road, approaches him doffs his hat 

 begs. Mr. Spasm plunges his hand into his pocket, and drops some 

 halfpence into the hand of the sweeper ? No ! For at that critical 

 instant, unmindful of his loss, the sweeper, making but two steps of the 

 crossing and pavement, leapt like a tiger into the butcher's shop ; he 

 urged his way through a crowd of customers to the tradesman him- 

 self, uttered the emphatic monosyllable ." THERE ! " and again re- 

 sumed his station in the road. 



Mr. Spasm rushed at once into the shop : " Heavens ! Mr. Gib- 

 letts ! what is on the poor creature's mind what has the miserable 

 man done?" 



" Done?" 



" I have watched that poor sweeper these two hours ! His eye has 

 never been off your customers; and, but this instant, he let my half- 

 pence roll into the road, to rush here, exclaim ' There,' and again 

 vanish ! What is it all about ? " 



" About a rump of beef. You see, Mr. Besom is very particular 

 in his cut Bill, take this pound-and-a-half of steaks to the Blue Lion 

 he likes it not too near nor too far, but just in the middle. So you 

 see, with one eye he watches my customers, and with the other his 

 own. When my knife gets to his particular cut, all he has to do is 

 to cry ' There,' and it's done. Very particular in his cut, sir !" 



Cut and is this the meaning of his anxious looks his Why I 

 declare he's gone ! " 



" Gone to the Blue Lion, sir." 



