WALTER EVELYN. CHAPTER I. "I saw a troop Of lords and ladies gay As I lay a thynkyne, a thynkyne, a thynkyne,— How do you do, my Public? We have not met for some time. Looking well, too. Fatter, eh, my Public? Manchester pretty quiet? So, that's right! Farmers not so well, eh? Dissatisfied because they have not got Lord Derby now? I do not see that it is any business of yours, my Public, how I came by this manuscript, but I will tell you, too, if you like. I went out to California, made my fortune in three days of course, three million sterling, robbed of it all in Panama, that is, paid it all to a doctor, who cured me of the yellow fever, caught in the mines; worked my passage home. My wife did not know me, said she did not like yellow people; went away in despair to Homburg, to get back my complexion and regain my wife, who had serious thoughts of marrying again.-(Mem. Curate very assiduous in his attendance.) Shown into a room at the hotel, just vacated by a remarkably fresh-coloured gentleman, thought it was a good omen, determined to take up my quarters there; looked in the pigeon-holes of the incomprehensible table you always find in a German hotel and break your nose against, under the impression that it is a washhandstand. Well, there it lay in a pigeon-hole on the right side, I mean the manuscript, evidently left there by fresh-coloured gentleman. Pigeon-hole would not open at first I pulled at it, it resisted; I pulled harder, got excited, handle gave way, fell down, knocked my head against another piece of incomprehensible furniture with marble top standing against the bed. Incomprehensible piece of furniture rattled as if there was something inside. Never mind now, look into it by-and-bye, perhaps a treasure also left by fresh-coloured gentleman. Well, up again, would not be discouraged (bump on my head not very large after all), attacked pigeon-hole again with German pocket-knife, German pocket-knife broke, cut my fingershot work-bound up my finger,-never say die; tried English corkscrew screwed up to the hilt into the place where the handle was; German wood-work gave way; another bump on the head, but victory! victory! first incomprehensible piece of furniture tumbled all down together; hurt my knee a little in falling; never mind, get at drawer now from behind. Put my foot against it to push it out from the other side, back gave way, would not open to the last, any more than a Spanish window will. At last, then, cried I, here we are! Pooh, only a bundle of old bills! Eh? No! What's this! Walter Evelyn! A literary discovery -a second Rowley! No, it's not of the fifteenth century either. Never mind, I shall be a second Chatterton in all except Mrs. Angel and the arsenic water. Hollo! though, I forgot all about fresh-coloured gentleman. Run after him, quite breathless; caught him |
