"Do you read the papers much?" asked Mr. Mortimer, thinking the old man displayed shrewdness enough to deserve another question.
"Why, sir, I might read 'em more than I do, if I would," answered the veteran; "but I don't think it worth the trouble. This is a London paper, and I see it weekly. They publish two papers in Greenwich here, but they're neither of 'em worth looking at, according to my thinking. How they get supported I can't make out, for nobody thinks any thing of 'em; yet I heard a person say that there was strong talk of another being started by some gentleman that's disposed to fool his money away. 'Tis a pity but what somebody or other would advise him different, for it's the wildest scheme in the world, I think, to imagine that any newspaper can prosper in a place like this, that's so near London."
Mr. Mortimer felt as if he would have dropped into the earth, and had but just presence of mind left to bid the old pensioner "good morning," before he walked away to recover the blow thus given to his hopes. But he consoled himself by reflecting that it was a "mere vulgar old man" who had delivered this opinion,—one who was not at all likely to know what chance there was for the success of a newspaper enterprise, into which so many commercial and political interests and considerations must needs be woven. It must be a matter altogether beyond the scope and reach of a mere Greenwich pensioner. After restoring his own confidence in some degree, the tourist returned to his inn, dined, read the papers, and at length had the pleasure of seeing the evening company begin to gather. But Mr. Mortimer was resolved to make longer preliminary observation this time, ere he introduced the subject that most nearly concerned him. He was pleased to find, by attending to the tone of remarks, as the current subjects of Mahomet Ali, and Napier, and the Syrian question, were being discussed, that the two great parties of Whigs and Tories were fully represented in the room. He thought this a fortunate circumstance for himself, since he would be less likely to gather a biassed decision among the company, on his great newspaper question, when he thought the time was come for his introduction of it. And after waiting long, he did introduce it, cautiously concealing, as he thought, the fact, that he himself was desirous of commencing a Kentish paper. But Mr. Mortimer was not the cunningest man in the world, and more than one member of the company perceived his purpose before the close of the conversation.
"Vy, sir, you understand,"—began a very elderly person, of a portly figure, who seemed to be held in great respect by his companions, but who, by his dialect, had evidently been thrown among the least cultivated portion of the metropolitan population,—"you understand, that's a vay o' hembarking cappitle, as it vere, vich I vouldn't recommend, for von: for, by the same rule, you understand, another gen'lmans a-been thinking of it, and I said the same, you understand, to him."
But Mr. Mortimer did not understand; and he therefore made no reply.
"But it depends a good deal on the particular object the individual has in view who embarks the capital," observed a thin, keen-looking man: "if Captain Dundas, now, were to start a paper in Greenwich, it could not fail to answer his purpose."
"By the same rule," interjected the elderly person, "that's quite another affair, as it vere. The Captain, you understand,—and success to him say I, vith all my 'art!—the Captain, you understand, by the same rule, vouldn't care about the paper paying."
"Exactly," observed the bland landlord, reconciling the apparent difference of his guests; "so that that does not disprove your point."
"But pray, gentlemen," asked Mr. Mortimer, "may I ask what would be the particular object of Captain Dundas, if he were to start a new paper in your town?"
"O! Parliament, sir!—Parliament, of course!" quickly replied the thin, keen-looking man, with a very significant shake of the head.