“And Jericho sat with his heart beating faster. Again he placed his hand to his breast, again drew forth another bank-note. He jumped to his feet, tore away his dress, and, running to a mirror, saw therein reflected, not human flesh, but over the region of the heart a loose skin of bank-paper, veined with marks of ink. He touched it, and still in his hand lay another note. His thoughtless wish had been wrought into reality. Solomon Jericho was in very truth a Man made of Money.”
The fête at Jogtrot Hall was a great success. The guests were many, and some of them distinguished. The Honourable Mr. Candytuft, Colonel Bones, Commissioner Thrush, and Dr. Mizzlemist, of Doctors’ Commons, must be noted, as they have to be dealt with pictorially by Leech hereafter. After a variety of entertainments, some twenty or thirty hungry guests graced a table under a long, wide tent, on which “there were the most delicious proofs of the earth’s goodness, with every kitchen mystery.” The host, Mr. Carraway, took the head of the table; Mr. Jericho, “dignified and taciturn, graced the board.” The orator on the occasion was Dr. Mizzlemist, who had been seized with a passion to drink everybody’s health. For the third time he rose to give “the health of Solomon Jericho, Esquire, an honour to his country.”
“In the course of his speech the Doctor delivered himself with so much energy that at the same time he stuck the fork, which had served him in emphasizing the Jericho virtues, between the bones of Mr. Jericho’s right hand, pinning it where it lay.
“‘It is nothing,’ said the philosophic Jericho.”
The change in Mr. Jericho’s appearance, from the full-faced, healthy-looking individual of Leech’s first drawing, to the spare, hollow-cheeked man at the banquet, is to be accounted for by the fact that, after each application to the strange bank established in Mr. Jericho’s breast, his whole form shrinks; he becomes thinner and thinner, to the alarm of his tailor, who “says, as he measures the changed man:
“‘Six inches less round the body, as I’m a sinner! Six inches less, Mr. Jericho, and I last took your measure six weeks ago.’”
At the Carraway fête the Misses Jericho made, and improved, the acquaintance of the Hon. Mr. Candytuft, and of an incredible idiot, Sir Arthur Homadod. The idiot was as beautiful as he was foolish; he was therefore handsome beyond the dreams of beauty. Whatever had taken the place of the mind in the baronet was impressed by Miss Agatha Pennibacker, and that virgin’s heart being free, she lost it to Sir Arthur. The Hon. Mr. Candytuft, having an eye to the enormous fortune supposed to be possessed by Mr. Jericho, and being desirous to secure the portion of it that would of course fall to his step-daughter, made love to Miss Monica with considerable success.
In the meantime the ladies wish to go to Court; in this they are encouraged by Candytuft; and, to enable them to make a proper figure there, costly jewels are required. To Candytuft and Jericho enter Mrs. J., “with a magnificent suite of jewels.
“‘Aren’t they beautiful, my dear Solomon?’ said she....