Not the slightest objection was
put in opposition to my uncle's proposal, consequently the next day,
November the 9th, 1837, uncle Cheeseman and I formed integral portions of
the huge mass of spectators which reached from St. James's to the City.
After slipping off the pavement a score of times (and in some instances
opportunely enough to be shoulder-grazed by a passing coach-wheel),
stunning numberless persons by explosions of oaths for clumsy collisions
and unintentional performances upon his tenderest corn, we reached the
corner of St. Paul's churchyard.
Having secured by a two-shilling bargain about three feet of a form,
which, I suppose, upon any other day than a general holiday like the
present was the _locus in quo_ for little dears whose young ideas were
taught to shoot at threepence a week, uncle took breath, and a pinch of
snuff together: he smiled as I observed, that he'd be sure to take a
refresher when her Majesty passed; and though he shook his head and
designated me a sly young rogue, I could clearly perceive that he was
plotting to perform, as if by chance, what I had predicated as a
certainty; and although nineteen persons out of twenty would have marked
(in this instance) his puerility, I doubt not but that the same number are
(at some periods of their existence) innocent victims to the like
weakness, whether it be generated in a snuff-box or a royal diploma.
Pages:
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149