the uncommercial traveller-第15部分

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not　have　more　than　half…filled　the　room。　　Observe；　however；　said

Mr。　Licensed　Victualler；　the　host；　that　it　was　Friday　night；　and；

besides；　it　was　getting　on　for　twelve；　and　Jack　had　gone　aboard。　　A

sharp　and　watchful　man；　Mr。　Licensed　Victualler；　the　host；　with

tight　lips　and　a　complete　edition　of　Cocker's　arithmetic　in　each

eye。　　Attended　to　his　business　himself；　he　said。　　Always　on　the

spot。　　When　he　heard　of　talent；　trusted　nobody's　account　of　it；　but

went　off　by　rail　to　see　it。　　If　true　talent；　engaged　it。　　Pounds　a

week　for　talent　…　four　pound　…　five　pound。　　Banjo　Bones　was

undoubted　talent。　　Hear　this　instrument　that　was　going　to　play　…　it

was　real　talent！　　In　truth　it　was　very　good；　a　kind　of　piano…

accordion；　played　by　a　young　girl　of　a　delicate　prettiness　of　face；

figure；　and　dress；　that　made　the　audience　look　coarser。　　She　sang

to　the　instrument；　too；　first；　a　song　about　village　bells；　and　how

they　chimed；　then　a　song　about　how　I　went　to　sea；　winding　up　with

an　imitation　of　the　bagpipes；　which　Mercantile　Jack　seemed　to

understand　much　the　best。　　A　good　girl；　said　Mr。　Licensed

Victualler。　　Kept　herself　select。　　Sat　in　Snug；　not　listening　to

the　blandishments　of　Mates。　　Lived　with　mother。　　Father　dead。　　Once

a　merchant　well　to　do；　but　over…speculated　himself。　　On　delicate

inquiry　as　to　salary　paid　for　item　of　talent　under　consideration；

Mr。　Victualler's　pounds　dropped　suddenly　to　shillings　…　still　it

was　a　very　comfortable　thing　for　a　young　person　like　that；　you

know；　she　only　went　on　six　times　a　night；　and　was　only　required　to

be　there　from　six　at　night　to　twelve。　　What　was　more　conclusive

was；　Mr。　Victualler's　assurance　that　he　'never　allowed　any

language；　and　never　suffered　any　disturbance。'　　Sharpeye　confirmed

the　statement；　and　the　order　that　prevailed　was　the　best　proof　of

it　that　could　have　been　cited。　　So；　I　came　to　the　conclusion　that

poor　Mercantile　Jack　might　do　（as　I　am　afraid　he　does）　much　worse

than　trust　himself　to　Mr。　Victualler；　and　pass　his　evenings　here。



But　we　had　not　yet　looked；　Mr。　Superintendent　…　said　Trampfoot；

receiving　us　in　the　street　again　with　military　salute　…　for　Dark

Jack。　　True；　Trampfoot。　　Ring　the　wonderful　stick；　rub　the

wonderful　lantern；　and　cause　the　spirits　of　the　stick　and　lantern

to　convey　us　to　the　Darkies。



There　was　no　disappointment　in　the　matter　of　Dark　Jack；　HE　was

producible。　　The　Genii　set　us　down　in　the　little　first　floor　of　a

little　public…house；　and　there；　in　a　stiflingly　close　atmosphere；

were　Dark　Jack；　and　Dark　Jack's　delight；　his　WHITE　unlovely　Nan；

sitting　against　the　wall　all　round　the　room。　　More　than　that：　　Dark

Jack's　delight　was　the　least　unlovely　Nan；　both　morally　and

physically；　that　I　saw　that　night。



As　a　fiddle　and　tambourine　band　were　sitting　among　the　company；

Quickear　suggested　why　not　strike　up？　　'Ah；　la'ads！'　said　a　negro

sitting　by　the　door；　'gib　the　jebblem　a　darnse。　　Tak'　yah　pardlers；

jebblem；　for　'um　QUAD…rill。'



This　was　the　landlord；　in　a　Greek　cap；　and　a　dress　half　Greek　and

half　English。　　As　master　of　the　ceremonies；　he　called　all　the

figures；　and　occasionally　addressed　himself　parenthetically　…　after

this　manner。　　When　he　was　very　loud；　I　use　capitals。



'Now　den！　　Hoy！　　ONE。　　Right　and　left。　　（Put　a　steam　on；　gib　'um

powder。）　　LA…dies'　chail。　　BAL…loon　say。　　Lemonade！　　TWO。　　AD…

warnse　and　go　back　（gib　'ell　a　breakdown；　shake　it　out　o'　yerselbs；

keep　a　movil）。　　SWING…corners；　BAL…loon　say；　and　Lemonade！　　（Hoy！）

THREE。　　GENT　come　for'ard　with　a　lady　and　go　back；　hoppersite　come

for'ard　and　do　what　yer　can。　　（Aeiohoy！）　　BAL…loon　say；　and　leetle

lemonade。　　（Dat　hair　nigger　by　'um　fireplace　'hind　a'　time；　shake

it　out　o'　yerselbs；　gib　'ell　a　breakdown。）　　Now　den！　　Hoy！　　FOUR！

Lemonade。　　BAL…loon　say；　and　swing。　　FOUR　ladies　meet　in　'um

middle；　FOUR　gents　goes　round　'um　ladies；　FOUR　gents　passes　out

under　'um　ladies'　arms；　SWING　…　and　Lemonade　till　'a　moosic　can't

play　no　more！　　（Hoy；　Hoy！）'



The　male　dancers　were　all　blacks；　and　one　was　an　unusually　powerful

man　of　six　feet　three　or　four。　　The　sound　of　their　flat　feet　on　the

floor　was　as　unlike　the　sound　of　white　feet　as　their　faces　were

unlike　white　faces。　　They　toed　and　heeled；　shuffled；　double…

shuffled；　double…double…shuffled；　covered　the　buckle；　and　beat　the

time　out；　rarely；　dancing　with　a　great　show　of　teeth；　and　with　a

childish　good…humoured　enjoyment　that　was　very　prepossessing。　　They

generally　kept　together；　these　poor　fellows；　said　Mr。

Superintendent；　because　they　were　at　a　disadvantage　singly；　and

liable　to　slights　in　the　neighbouring　streets。　　But；　if　I　were

Light　Jack；　I　should　be　very　slow　to　interfere　oppressively　with

Dark　Jack；　for；　whenever　I　have　had　to　do　with　him　I　have　found　him

a　simple　and　a　gentle　fellow。　　Bearing　this　in　mind；　I　asked　his

friendly　permission　to　leave　him　restoration　of　beer；　in　wishing

him　good　night；　and　thus　it　fell　out　that　the　last　words　I　heard

him　say　as　I　blundered　down　the　worn　stairs；　were；　'Jebblem's　elth！

Ladies　drinks　fust！'



The　night　was　now　well　on　into　the　morning；　but；　for　miles　and

hours　we　explored　a　strange　world；　where　nobody　ever　goes　to　bed；

but　everybody　is　eternally　sitting　up；　waiting　for　Jack。　　This

exploration　was　among　a　labyrinth　of　dismal　courts　and　blind

alleys；　called　Entries；　kept　in　wonderful　order　by　the　police；　and

in　much　better　order　than　by　the　corporation：　　the　want　of　gaslight

in　the　most　dangerous　and　infamous　of　these　places　being　quite

unworthy　of　so　spirited　a　town。　　I　need　describe　but　two　or　three

of　the　houses　in　which　Jack　was　waited　for　as　specimens　of　the

rest。　　Many　we　attained　by　noisome　passages　so　profoundly　dark　that

we　felt　our　way　with　our　hands。　　Not　one　of　the　whole　number　we

visited；　was　without　its　show　of　prints　and　ornamental　crockery；

the　quantity　of　the　latter　set　forth　on　little　shelves　and　in

little　cases；　in　otherwise　wretched　rooms；　indicating　that

Mercantile　Jack　must　have　an　extraordinary　fondness　for　crockery；

to　necessitate　so　much　of　that　bait　in　his　traps。



Among　such　garniture；　in　one　front　parlour　in　the　dead　of　the

night；　four　women　were　sitting　by　a　fire。　　One　of　them　had　a　male

child　in　her　arms。　　On　a　stool　among　them　was　a　swarthy　youth　with

a　guitar；　who　had　evidently　stopped　playing　when　our　footsteps　were

heard。



'Well　I　how　do　YOU　do？'　says　Mr。　Superintendent；　looking　about　him。



'Pretty　well；　sir；　and　hope　you　gentlemen　are　going　to　treat　us

ladies；　now　you　have　come　to　see　us。'



'Order　there！'　says　Sharpeye。



'None　of　that！'　says　Quickear。



Trampfoot；　outside；　is　heard　to　confide　to　himself；　'Meggisson's

lot　this　is。　　And　a　bad　'un！'



'Well！'　says　Mr。　Superintendent；　laying　his　hand　on　the　shoulder　of

the　swarthy　youth；　'and　who's　this？'



'Antonio；　sir。'



'And　what　does　HE　do　here？'



'Come　to　give　us　a　bit　of　music。　　No　harm　in　that；　I　suppose？'



'A　young　foreign　sailor？'