KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



169 



same time, pause, or they will not be gra- 

 ciously welcomed by either. 



" Now " do boarding-houses receive their 

 inmates by the hundred. Now do venerable 

 spinsters and the genus " tabby " residing 

 thereat, take special care of the residue of 

 half-pints of vapid dinner wine, and eat till 

 nature knows no rest (" the cost," as they 

 remark, " being the same"). Now does 

 scandal go its giddy round, whilst the 



" Forty are feeding like one." 



And now do we, a casual visitor " making 

 observations," devoutly thank God that we 

 and ours are of " another world." Boarding- 

 houses, their keepers, their visitors, their 

 habits, their notions, their individualities, 

 — Nare frightful enormities. Mammon is the 

 host, mammon are the guests. Two power- 

 ful parties striving for the mastery, who 

 shall get most out of the other ! The human 

 countenance at these dens of feasting and 

 grumbling, is a study worthy of Lavater. 

 Here is character sacrificed without scruple, 

 and a fair reputation stabbed clean through 

 the back — over a glass of vapid " Cape." 



" Now " do " our inhabitants " at water- 

 ing-places look out for London " flats." Now 

 do our steamboats groan beneath the weight 

 of thousands, as ready to be victimised. Now 

 do " pleasure's votaries " begin to give a 

 loose to their appetites before they reach 

 Woolwich; and now do many mysterious 

 bottles with short and long necks, find their 

 way mysteriously from places where no 

 " thought " could ever have penetrated. 

 Now too do noses suddenly become tinted — 

 not aqua-tinted! 



"Now" do "curious" smells of ardent 

 spirits, gin, rum, porter, tobacco, and ale, 

 rise " curling " on the air of the well-spread 

 decks, tempered by the rich flavor of a 

 decayed " double-Gloucester." Now do recre- 

 ant shop-boys, fresh from the undisguiseable 

 mart of " Moses & Son, Minories," unroll 

 their weed, and imbibe the poisonous fumes 

 of embalmed cabbage-leaves — their imagi- 

 nation the while fondly hovering on the 

 confines of Havannah ! Now do their paste- 

 washed countenances, shrouded under wide- 

 awake hats, begin to grow " suspiciously 

 animated " by their bottled-gooseberry eyes, 

 as one by one they become lost to sight, 

 and disappear no one knows where. Now 

 does the steamer rejoice in a union of 

 "essences," that even our own Rowland, 

 with all his invention, could not clearly 

 define. Now are certain " results " visible, 

 which our muse declines to record. 



" Now" does the crowded vessel " near " 

 the desired haven. Now do the hoisted 

 flag-poles proclaim how many hundreds of 

 hungry " wide-awake " savages are about to 



besiege the land of plenty, and eat it up.* 

 Now do the "licensed porters" address 

 themselves to their barrows, and make re- 

 solutions (never broken) to " fleece " their 

 victims. Now do the " touters " muster in 

 armies on the head of the pier, to frighten 

 away all who {hut for their remorseless per- 

 secutors) would most probably have dealt 

 with their employers; and now does the 

 vessel gaily enter the " Royal Harbour." 

 Now too do the pale boys,f martyrs to the 

 baked leaves of summer- cabbage, mys- 

 teriously appear from the side boxes ; and 

 try, as they mingle with the crowd, to 

 smile as if they had " enjoyed the trip." 

 Now do we observe that they severally 

 fail in making converts to that opinion. 

 A variety of masonic signals, given by 

 the agitation of fingers, and a rapidly-os- 

 cillating thumb, justify us in the belief. 



" Now " is all hurry and confusion. Now 

 do all the victims rush on shore as quickly 

 as they can— pursued, bellowed after, be- 

 sieged, almost stripped by the " touters," 

 who claim every parcel carried by a visitor 

 as their own by " right." Now do we feel 

 inclined to level them all uno ictu — by a 

 single blow. 



" Now" do visitors walk about the town, 

 followed by a " disinterested guide," who 

 conducts them to " eligible apartments ; " 

 and now does the smiling lodging-house 

 keeper do " the best she can " for her lodger, 

 " under circumstances." Now do visitors 

 settle down ; and now do they begin to pay 

 for " their whistle." Tradesmen's cards 

 form " the carpet " of the drawing-room, 



* Every flag hoisted, denotes one hundred pas- 

 sengers. We have seen seven flags up at one 

 time, and shuddered at the " visitation " about to 

 be inflicted upon the town! 



f The term "pale boys," is applicable to 

 youth of every grade — from the genus " gent " 

 to the shop-boy, clerk, and merchant's assistant. 

 The word " boys " extends to the age of twenty- 

 five, assuming that after this age, they ought to be 

 civilised. These "pale boys" are a veritable 

 nuisance, particularly in the summer — they 

 poison the sweet air of heaven wherever they go. 

 We can only compare them to that loathsome 

 animal, "the skunk," whose stench is distin- 

 guishable a mile off. We never come to town, 

 without having to wait while some of these 

 "domestic skunks" (many of them "married" 

 skunks) are lighting their high-dried cabbage- 

 leaves. It does indeed seem marvellous that 

 real gentlemen, riding beside them, can permit 

 such a nuisance. Even inside the public carriage, 

 these fumes of morning smoke are indescribably 

 filthy ; making ones clothes, for the day, to be 

 redolent of a pot-house carousal. How we so 

 hate these " skunks ! " They are a scourge on 

 society. As for their "better-halves" — but, 

 poor souls! they, perhaps, are more "used" to 

 it!— Faugh 1!— Ed. K. J. 



