City Sketches. 465 



much in the sentry box." Now the late Mrs. Co'bh was not deli- 

 cate far from it, and yet . No actuary at a fire office could have 

 withstood this reasoning. Cobb, therefore, put on his hat, and 

 hastened towards the house of the pork-butcher. 



He found that gentleman on the point of going out : " My dear 

 Mr. Griskin," exclaimed Cobb, thrusting him into the back parlour, 

 " hear me for one moment" 



" I won't hear nothing, you know," said Oriskin,;" without a wit- 

 ness. Here, Chitterlingl" 



" My dear Sir, there is no occasion for the presence of Mr. Chit- 

 terling, I assure you," cried Cobb earnestly, " let me explain." 



" Oh ! you're not going to gammon me, you know; /know, with- 

 out a witness," said the pork-butcher. " Here, Chitterling !" 



Upo*n this second summons the foreman burst into the parlour in 

 dishabille, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up to the shoulder-blade, and 

 looked like a gymnast prepared for combat. And so, in fact, he was?. 



"Here, sit down there, Chitterling," said Griskin, pointing to a 

 chair, " and listen to what this here gentleman has got to say." 



Chitterling obeyed, and, flinging his brawny arms upon the table, 

 leaned forward, and fixed his frightfully extended eyes upon the 

 countenance of Cobb with a look of profound attention. 



Cobb was now fain to slate with artful solemnity that he had re- 

 cently met with a severe pecuniary loss, which he thought might 

 prevent him entering into a contract otherwise so highly desirable ; 

 but if Mr. Griskin was willing 



" And so it was nothing you heard about me?" enquired Griskin. 



*' My dear Sir, how could that be ?" replied Cobb. " So respect- 

 able an inhabitant of this parish " 



" Well then," said Griskin, appeased, "enough of that, you know. 

 But do you think I think worse'of a)man because he happens to be poor ? 

 I should be a despicable wretch if I did. Why, you don't, do you ?" 



" Not I," said Cobb, * far from it. But let me hope Miss Griskin 

 has not been informed " 



" Not a word all right anH it, Chitterling?" said Griskin, and 

 he shook Cobb's extended hand with great cordiality. And that 

 business was settled. - kji 



And here I would willingly drop the pen, and leave it to the 

 imagination ofjhe reader to conceive what sort of a marriage (which, 

 by the bye> Griskin urged on with strong rapidity) Mr. Drinkwater 

 Cobb made of it. But it may be as well to say that Miss Griskin 

 made him a much better wife than, from all he had heard of her, he 

 expected, and, from what the reader has seen of him., he deserved. 



And, perhaps, it is necessary, also, to mention this. On the very 

 day week after his marriage, Mr. Drinkwater Cobb, taking up the 

 newspaper, and casting his eyes casually on the columns, found his 

 vision magnetically attracted by the following words, printed so plainly 

 that the compositor must hav-e selected new type for the occasion : 



"THOMAS GRISKIN, pork-butcher, 73 - - Street. Official As- 

 signee, Mr. Tucker. Solicitors, Messrs. Rackem and Wrench; and 

 just above, in a bolder letter, LIST OF BANKRUPTS/ " 



MAY., 1837.. . % H 



