We were moving off when a voice was heard from the interior of the cab George, Ive left my handkerchief upon the dressing-table; ask Harriet to fetch it down.
I arrested the driver, who seemed to be regarding me rather superciliously, which I attributed to insignificance of appearance, when he exclaimed:
Now, Jarge, fetch the missuss wipe, and look alive.
Confound his impudence, I muttered, he takes me for the attendant; and then, with what must have been a decidedly melodramatic, tyrannical-baron-like scowl upon my brow, I resummoned the abigail, and obtained the required piece of cambric.
The feeling of indignation had fled as I reseated myself, and during the drive down I omitted the smoke, and suffered the driver to discourse fancy free.
He had an agreeable voice, had this Cabby husky and wheezy; and but for an unpleasant habit of expectorating at the flies which settled upon the shafts, he might have proved an agreeable companion. Curiosity, however, seemed to be one of his failings, for addressing me in a mock provincial style as Jarge, and at the same time forcing his voice somewhere down into the cavernous recesses beneath his waistcoat, he began to catechise me after an approved method of his own.
New hand? I nodded.
Measured for your livery?
What? I said.
Measured for your harness togs, you know?
Not yet, I replied mildly a martyr to information.
Nice time on it, you fellers has: plenty ter eat, plenty ter drink, nothing ter do, and plenty o niste gals in the house. Got any guvnor?
I replied in the negative.
Vell, then, young feller, youve put your foot into a good thing, and if you plays your cards right, youll make a swell of yourself in just no time. Reglar swell, you know; keep yer own wally, private barber, and shoeblack brigade, yer know, to keep you all square some one to swear at when yer outer sorts. Ony think; have yer chockely brought to you in bed; and then come down arterwards in a red dressin-gownd with gold flowers on it, and a fancy cap with a big torsel! And there yer sits, big as a Lord Mayor, and has yer breakfass outer chany. Ah, its a fine thing to be a swell, my lad! Arterwards yer goes out, fust chalk all noo clothes and when wun o us pore chaps says, Keb, sir! Yes! sez you, and you goes down to yer club and reads the papers, and drinks champagne all day till dinner-time, when yer goes back to dinner with the missus, and finishes off every night by going to the oprer. Swells lifes a first-rate un, my lad.
Niste gals them missuses o yourn. I should stick up ter the little un if I was you. (Mrs Scribe.) I likes the
looks on her. Cant say much for tother. Shes rayther too scraggy for my taste. (Miss Bellefille.) Howsumever, it depends a good deal on which has most ochre. Though, mind yer, I wouldnt marry a gal altogether for her tin; Id rayther hev a good-tempered fat un with six thousan than wun o yer thin, razor-backed, sour-tempered uns with twiste as much. Taint no use havin heaps o tin if yer cant enjoy it and do what yer likes. Theres some chaps as I knows as is spliced and dursent say as their souls their own; and no more durst send out for a pot o porter than fly. Lor bless you, every drop o drink they swallers is lowanced out to em. Ony let the missus ketch em with the long clay and the backer, and then see how soon all the fats in the fire. Gets told as they makes the parly curtains smell wuss nor a tap-room, and keeps a buzzin about their ears till the pipes reglar put out, and them too, werry often.
You take my adwice, young man, and dont you go and throw yourself away. Dont you go and make a martyr o yourself, and get a ring o bitter haloes round your head sure sign o rain, you know, and the wifes eyes a runnin over. I rather takes to that little un inside, though; she looks good-tempered. I spose she aint above five-and-twenty, is she?
I said I believed that was her age.
Good-tempered? said Cabby; dont shy the bread about if its stale, or bully the gals, or any o them sorter games?
Oh, no! I said.
Vell, then; mind what youre arter, and yer fortuns made. Youve got your hand crossed with the right bit o silver. I squinted over my left shoulder, and seed her a smilin at yer when yer brought her the handkercher. Eh? Ah! its all werry fine, yer know; but Im up to yer, young feller. We see some life our way, you know. Nice artful card, you are, you know, now aint yer?
Under the circumstances it seemed best to own to the soft impeachment, which I did, and removed my ribs from Cabbys rather angular elbow.
I say, yer know, bimeby, if yer look out, stead of Jarge, itll be Jarge, dear: ony dont you be in too big a hurry dont you get a building a castle in the hair without putting any bricks under it, or else some fine morning down it comes atop of yer, and yer finds yerself flat on yer back with all the wind knocked out of yer corpus.
Then came another facetious nudge of the elbow, almost forcible enough to produce the effect so graphically described.
Play your cards well, my lad, and youre a made man; but whatever you do, dont be rash. Allus make a pint o cleanin yerself fust thing, and never show yourself to her with yer hair touzled and rough; and, whats more, allus have a clean shave every morning, for theres nothin a woman hates wus than a man with a rough chin nayther one thing nor tother. Arter a bit, some day, when shes werry civil, and when shes a-sayin Jarge this or Jarge that, you might, just by accident like, say Yes, dear, or No, dear, as the case may be; ony mind and see how she takes it; and, as I said afore, dont be rash. Whatever you do, dont touch her without she begins fust, or else its all dickey with yer. Theres many a good game been spoilt by young fellers like you bein too fast, and not havin nous enough to wait till the proper time.