“Well, I’m d—d!”
This did not convey a great deal of information to Jacob Gray, and he waited very anxiously to hear what further remarks concerning his thoughts and objects in this world might fall from the speaker who had so cavalierly and off handedly settled his destination in the next. Nor was he disappointed, for Mr. Elias, having no one to talk to, addressed himself, in the following strains:—
“Well, here’s a precious old crib to be shut up in. Upon my soul, it’s too bad of the governor. And no dinner—not a drop of nothing, no how what so ever. How would he like it, I wonder? Why, not at all, to be sure. The fifty pounds is something—but it’s all moonshine if the fellow don’t come, or that ere gal as he talks on, as may make her blessed appearance in a masculine sort o’ way. Well, I only hopes she may, that’s all. Won’t I give that Stephy a precious nob on his cocoa-nut, if he makes it very late afore he comes? Curse this place, it’s as dull as a sermon, and about as pleasant and lively-looking as mud in a wine-glass. I don’t like these kind of goes at all. Give me fun, and a hunt after such a rollicking, slashing blade as Jack Sheppard. Ah, he’s the fellow for my money. I love that blade. He’s got a voice, too, like a flock o’ nightingales, that he has. Shall I ever hear him sing that song again as I learnt of him by listening to him in quod, and all the while as I was taken up with the tune, he was a filing away at his darbies, bless him! Oh, he’s a rum un!”
Elias then delighted himself and astonished Jacob Gray, by singing the following song; which was in great vogue at the time:—
What Knight’s Like the Knight of the Road?
“What knight’s like the knight of the road?
Who lives so well as he?
The proudest duke don’t lead
A life so brave and free.
Heighho! How the maidens sigh,