478 The Tailor of Brummelton. 



lot of our enterprising- tailor as he eyed his baits. He could peer 

 over and through his old green screen like an angler from the midst 

 of flag or osier.; 



At an early hour things looked well ; poor working men, the hum- 

 ble gudgeons of society, swimming with the stream of the street, 

 though too small (in purse) to think even of nibbling at what called 

 for larger gills than their's, hung about, and admired with all their 

 eyes. But Jenkin did not lay himself out for small fry like these, so 

 no disappointment ensued, as, one after another, they all walked on- 

 wards. As the day advanced, however, Slops was surprised to find, 

 that though many paused to criticise his goods, no one entered to or- 

 der the like ; and among these passers-by the old man recognised no 

 few of the greater folks of the town. " They will go home and think 

 of it, and come to-morrow," said he. But to-morrow came, and not 

 so his expected customers ; so Slops worked half the night with pen 

 and with ink, with aching hand and tingling eyes, and on the third 

 day appeared an announcement, in large letters and in small, full 

 cunningly displayed, to the effect that he, Jenkin Slops, with the 

 utmost deference to his worthy masters the nobility and gentry of 

 Brummelton, prayed and beseeched such of them as might propose to 

 avail themselves of the fashions which he, at enormous expense and 

 great personal risk, had imported from London, to hasten and give 

 their commands immediately, seeing that he, their humble servant to 

 command, was already so overwhelmed with business that another 

 day's delay might prove fatal. And hereto he added a postscript, 

 setting forth, that having made recent and important additions to his 

 establishment, he would be able to meet the wishes of any gentleman 

 as to time. From this document it would appear that to this day we 

 have made but little progress in the art rf puffing. A broad hint at 

 the beginning of Slops's memorial about the " Crisis/' and a flourish 

 at the end, touching a "dreadful sacrifice,'' would place it on a par 

 with any similar effusion of the mercantile Muse of our own times. 



" This will do the business, or the devil's in it !" said Jenkin. But 

 the elderly gentleman alluded to was in it, in the shape of the Danish 

 skipper, who had made believe that his Danebrog passengers were 

 neither more nor less than French counts, or chevaliers at least ; and 

 Slops had the mortification, from the 'vantage-ground where he sat, 

 cross legged, and sufficiently cross-minded, behind the green veil, to 

 hear sundry remarks which satisfied him that his fellow-townsmen of 

 Brummelton affected to wonder at his impertinence. " Old Rem- 

 nant," said they, " after hiding himself for half the summer, brings 

 himself back, and tries to persuade us that these are the fashions of 

 London. The old impostor! he is cutting the wrong way of the cloth 

 now, however ; for every body knows that our * cut' is already in the 

 most approved style of the court of the Louvre." u Misguided 

 wretches !" ejaculated Slops, as the men in blue stockings and close- 

 laced boots went on their way, rejoicing in their erroneous full-bot- 

 tomed yellow inexpressibles, peppered all over with buttons, their 

 hungry-looking cloaks, and tall sugar-loaf hats. 



That this sort of thing could not last for ever was the firm belief of 

 Jenkin Slops. He held fast by faith in the influence of the true 



