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CITY SKETCHES. BY AN OLD CITIZEN. 



No. II. 



THE MATRIMONIAL SPECULATOR. 



should I break into the family vault of the Cobbs 'I Will it not 

 be sufficient to state in solemn whisper that Mr. Drinkwater Cobb 

 was the son of the late Mr. Joseph Cobb, who, some years ago^ 

 was kicked into eternity by a cow-heel, to which he was, perhaps* 

 too weakly attached,- and who still lies (it is to be hoped so) on the 

 east side of St. Magnus' church ? 



Mr. Drinkwater Cobb was a tobacconist and snuff manufacturer, 

 occupying a house in a street appertaining to the parish of St. 

 Magnus, who by dint of scraping, and screwing, and pinching, had 

 contrived to amass the word is too majestic for the purpose had 

 managed to huddle together as much property as justifies a respect^ 

 able man in slightly elevating his eyebrows when he condescends to I 

 look upon his less fortunate neighbours. 



It may readily be believed that Mr. Cobb had his faults. Some 

 few human errors had, indeed, fallen to his share. His chief foible, 

 however, was an insatiate thirst for specie, an ungovernable passion 

 for the precious metals. To the attainment of riches Mr. Cobb sa- 

 crificed his time, his talents, his health, and, at last, himself into the 

 bargain ; and a bad one he made of it, after all. 



It was a mistake, when Mr. Drinkwater Cobb invited to the pec- 

 toral department , in plain language, when he took to his bosom Mrs. 

 Martha Murgatroyd. The woman had a look of stability certainly ; 

 there was asolvent, nay, an accumulative appearance about the widow, 

 that augured well of present assets, if not of contingent remainders. 

 It is painful, however, to be compelled to observe, that Mr. Cobb was y 

 upon this occasion, quite out of his reckoning ; and that, beyond a 

 four-post bedstead, an impracticable clothes-press too large for the 

 doorway, and a drug in the upholstery market, several bandboxes of 

 various hues and sizes, two or three walking-sticks, the property of 

 the late Mr. Murgatroyd, and a portrait of one Mr. Hodgkinson, 

 there was nothing (except the lady herself) on Vhieh Mr. Cobb could 

 justly or conscientiously pride himself. 



This was a legitimate cause of irritation, a justifiable source of 

 discontent to the tobacconist. It is indisputable that there should be 

 money on both sides, that the lady should possess a snug annuity or 

 a good round instantaneously available sum : and Mr. Cobb was 

 perfectly right, when he was overheard, in agony of spirit, making 

 this communication to himself, " Dash my wig, if this isn't a dead 

 take in." 



But much, and naturally, as the reader may be disposed to sym- 

 pathize with Mr. Drinkwater Cobb, it must, nevertheless, be remarked, 

 however startling in these times and in this metropolis the observa- 



