The Parent's Assistant; Or, Stories for Children

Just. Hum! a sort of a travelling man. Hum! lay my books out open at the title Vagrant; and, William, tell the cook that Mrs. Bustle promises me the goose-pie for dinner. Four o'clock, do you hear? And show the old man in now.

    (The Landlady looks eagerly towards the door, as it opens, and exclaims,)

Land. My old gentleman, as I hope to breathe!

Enter the Old Man

(Lucy follows the Old Man on tiptoe – The Justice leans back and looks consequential – The Landlady sets her arms akimbo – The Old Man starts as he sees her.)

Just. What stops you, friend? Come forward, if you please.

Land. (advancing). So, sir, is it you, sir? Ay, you little thought, I warrant ye, to meet me here with his worship; but there you reckoned without your host – Out of the frying-pan into the fire.

Just. What is all this? What is this?

Land. (running on). None of your flummery stuff will go down with his worship no more than with me, I give you warning; so you may go further and far worse, and spare your breath to cool your porridge.

Just. (waves his hand with dignity). Mrs. Bustle, good Mrs. Bustle, remember where you are. Silence! silence! Come forward, sir, and let me hear what you have to say.

    (The Old Man comes forward.)

Just. Who and what may you be, friend, and what is your business with me?

Land. Sir, if your worship will give me leave —

    (Justice makes a sign to her to be silent.)

Old M. Please your worship, I am an old soldier.

Land. (interrupting). An old hypocrite, say.

Just. Mrs. Bustle, pray, I desire, let the man speak.

Old M. For these two years past – ever since, please your worship – I wasn't able to work any longer; for in my youth I did work as well as the best of them.

Land. (eager to interrupt). You work – you —

Just. Let him finish his story, I say.

Lucy. Ay, do, do, papa, speak for him. Pray, Mrs. Bustle —

Land. (turning suddenly round to Lucy). Miss, a good morrow to you, ma'am. I humbly beg your apologies for not seeing you sooner, Miss Lucy.

    (Justice nods to the Old Man, who goes on.)

Old Man. But, please your worship, it pleased God to take away the use of my left arm; and since that I have never been able to work.

Land. Flummery! flummery!

Just. (angrily). Mrs. Bustle, I have desired silence, and I will have it, that's poz! You shall have your turn presently.

Old M. For these two years past (for why should I be ashamed to tell the truth?) I have lived upon charity, and I scraped together a guinea and a half and upwards, and I was travelling with it to my grandson, in the north, with him to end my days —but (sighing) —

Just.But what? Proceed, pray, to the point.

Old M. But last night I slept here in town, please your worship, at the 'Saracen's Head.'

Land. (in a rage). At the 'Saracen's Head!' Yes, forsooth! none such ever slept at the 'Saracen's Head' afore, or ever shall afterwards, as long as my name's Bustle and the 'Saracen's Head' is the 'Saracen's Head.'

Just. Again! again! Mrs. Landlady, this is downright – I have said you should speak presently. He shall speak first, since I've said it – that's poz! Speak on, friend. You slept last night at the 'Saracen's Head.'

Old M. Yes, please your worship, and I accuse nobody; but at night I had my little money safe, and in the morning it was gone.

Land. Gone! – gone, indeed, in my house! and this is the way I'm to be treated! Is it so? I couldn't but speak, your worship, to such an inhuman like, out o' the way, scandalous charge, if King George and all the Royal Family were sitting in your worship's chair, beside you, to silence me (turning to the Old Man). And this is your gratitude, forsooth! Didn't you tell me that any hole in my house was good enough for you, wheedling hypocrite? And the thanks I receive is to call me and mine a pack of thieves.

Old M. Oh, no, no, no, No– a pack of thieves, by no means.

Land. Ay, I thought when I came to speak we should have you upon your marrow-bones in —

Just. (imperiously). Silence! Five times have I commanded silence, and five times in vain; and I won't command anything five times in vain —that's poz!

Land. (in a pet, aside). Old Poz! (Aloud.) Then, your worship, I don't see any business I have to be waiting here; the folks want me at home (returning and whispering). Shall I send the goose-pie up, your worship, if it's ready?

Just. (with magnanimity). I care not for the goose-pie, Mrs. Bustle. Do not talk to me of goose-pies; this is no place to talk of pies.

Land. Oh, for that matter, your worship knows best, to be sure.

    (Exit Landlady, angry.)

SCENE III

Justice Headstrong, Old Man, and Lucy

Lucy. Ah, now, I'm glad he can speak; now tell papa; and you need not be afraid to speak to him, for he is very good-natured. Don't contradict him, though, because he told me not.

Just. Oh, darling, you shall contradict me as often as you please – only not before I've drunk my chocolate, child – hey? Go on, my good friend; you see what it is to live in Old England, where, thank Heaven, the poorest of His Majesty's subjects may have justice, and speak his mind before the first in the land. Now speak on; and you hear she tells you that you need not be afraid of me. Speak on.

Old M. I thank your worship, I'm sure.

Just. Thank me! for what, sir? I won't be thanked for doing justice, sir; so – but explain this matter. You lost your money, hey, at the 'Saracen's Head'? You had it safe last night, hey? – and you missed it this morning? Are you sure you had it safe at night?

Old M. Oh, please your worship, quite sure; for I took it out and looked at it just before I said my prayers.

Just. You did – did ye so? – hum! Pray, my good friend, where might you put your money when you went to bed?

Old M. Please, your worship, where I always put it – always – in my tobacco-box.

Just. Your tobacco-box! I never heard of such a thing – to make a strong box of a tobacco-box. Ha! ha! ha! hum! – and you say the box and all were gone in the morning?