Shirk.—To skulk or get off.
Shove in the Mouth.—A glass of gin.
Shoulder Knot.—A man-trap or bailiff.
Six and Eight-pence.—A lawyer of the first order of Sharks, whose whole object in commencing an action is to make a “bill of costs.”
Sketch-Room.—The—in Corinthian House which was principally dedicated to the productions of the late George Morland, Jerry was rather more if not quite at home, almost skipping with rapture as his eye ran over the subjects of that unrivalled genius of the pencil. Nature was seen so strongly at every touch that Jerry nearly fancied himself again at Hawthorn Hall, looking at his dogs, pigs, and horses.
“It was the opinion of Corinthian Tom, in his remarks to Jerry, when the latter first entered this apartment, that if Morland had only painted half the number of subjects which are now before the public, their value might have been enhanced twice as much; and finished pictures, instead of sketches, most likely would have been the result. This was the reason Tom assigned to Jerry for having it called the Sketch-Room. ‘Nine times out of ten,’ said Tom, ‘dull matter-of-fact calculation is not allied with genius.’ Money, to George Morland, was a colour that he did not paint with; and, therefore, respecting its value, he seemed to know nothing. Embarrassment and the Catchpoles first drew up the curtain and showed him the iron bars which stopped his thoughtless career. They also explained to him, in the most feeling manner, the uses of a strong lock. They likewise pointed out to George the difference in his prospects,—not in an artist-like manner to his ‘mind’s eye,’ but in a clear distinct way of business, that twenty shillings make a Pound. For the moment, he keenly felt the disgusting cramped situation of Carey Street,[40] which compelled him to peep at his objects, through the rails of his apartment: for the moment, also, he felt the immediate necessity of procuring the gold talismanic key to give him once more liberty, again to wander amidst the beauties of nature: it was then that Morland painted for money: it was then that Genius was in fetters: it was then that rapid exertions got the better of his taste. ‘The sooner you paint me a picture, Mr. Morland,’ said the leary Bum-trap, ‘the sooner the door will be open to you. Freedom is in view,—and I’ll discharge your debt.’ No skilful angler ever threw his line into waters with more coaxing bait to hook the poor fish, than Mr. Screw ‘tried it on’ with his prisoner. It was plausible: it was better,—it gave no trouble to his acquaintance: it also prevented shyness or Refusal from his friends. The lock-up-house, by such means lost its terror. Employment was found for the mind and pencil of Morland. He experienced no shiverings of the body—no feverish parched-up tongue, waiting with the most anxious suspense for the return of the messenger to bring the No, which ultimately sent him to jail, or the delightful Yes, that set the prisoner once more at liberty. On the contrary, George was quite at home. He did as his inclinations prompted him. Jolly fellows called on him in abundance; and the song and the glass went round with the freedom of a tavern. All his wants were supplied, and the misery of a spunging-house was not seen in Morland’s apartments. In fact, he was better attended than when out of it. From the top screw to the stamper cleaner, all of them felt an interest in waiting upon the ‘Great Genius,’ as he was termed, in order to take a sly peep at his paintings. Here George set no price to his pictures, but when he was tired of his companions, and his confined situation, he then industriously, and in a short time, painted himself out of the lock-up house. Lumbering him, never afterwards gave Morland any horrors: and, whenever he was in trouble, the same kind of judgment was repeated, time and often, till Mr. Screw had realized a tolerable collection of valuable paintings. This officer was rather fond of paintings himself; but when any gentleman took a fancy to purchase any of them, Mr. Screw never betrayed a want of knowledge of their value—by the prices he affixed to them. Morland died at the premature age of 41, in October 29, 1804—dissipated habits proved his quietus.”
Slang.—St. Giles’s Greek—a conversational expression of an irregular, more or less vulgar, type, familiar to and in vogue among a certain class.
Slavey.—Servants of all work, in allusion to their laborious employment and hard work.
Slipped Cover.—Got away.
Sluice.—To drink. Sluice your whistle, wet your throat.