Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1855-06-28
THE WIDOW,
Or the Old Jew Brokers' Secret,
A LONDON STORY.

acfer and what that must have been, when
bad for broker, we leave to imagination and
johnson to define. He was reputed the hard
est man of his trade, and as men of that trade
are popularity supposed to be mere electrical
machines, worked by fints, not hearts, .su-
premacy of fintiness must have left him
fearful conglomerate. He was withered old
man now, bent nearly double with age and
rheumatism, with a hooked nose, and light
brown eyes, red round the lids, and a strange
mixture of surliness and suspicion in his face.
He looked cross between a mastiff and
weasel, which he was, in character as well as
in oountenance. No one had good word to
say for him. The publican at the corner was
sure there was something queer in man who
did not take an honest glass like the rest; and
the baker looked down on him because he ate
Seconds on principle. If a distress was to
be put for miles round the neighborhood, they
prayed that it might not be by old Joe Mappin,
of Holborn Buildings. One woman said she'd
as lief have the Emperor of Rooshia as him;
her daughter said she'd liefer. The very
children were afraid Of him, and screamed if
he came too near them, unless they were i'm
pudent and Knocked him. But to the little
ones he was the district Boyle; and Old Joe
Mappin stood in Hol5orn Building, soaring
the riotous small fry of the cutters, for the
black man of more civilized nurseries.
Everybody said the man had secret
Some thought he was a coiner, and others
that he had committed murder, and went to
look at the body or the grave. Others again
said that he had mad wife locked up in the
garret, on straw; but none knew exactly what
they thought, excepting the broad fact that
there was secret somehow, and of course, if
it belonged to him, disgraceful one he
could have nothing but vllainy to conceal
said the inspector to Policeman X, 81.
Why the report arose of his having secret
in his life was, because evening after evening,
he was seen stealing in the dusk from his
garret, along Holborn, to the West End
No one knew where he went to, though more
than one lounger had set out to follow him
bat somehow the old man always contrived to
escape, doubling through the streets in such a
quick and unexpected manner, that however it
was done, he invariably got away. All sorts
of plans had been made TO track him, but they
failed, overy one of them; and the brokers'
secret was asecret still. Little Teddy, his
landlords boy, came the nearest to the dis
coyery; but he lost him at last somewhere up
in the New Road near Regents Park, though
that was good measure TO have taken, too
Moreover, he saw that Joe was decently
dressed beneath his shabby old cloak thing
no one else would wear and from that time
the report had got abroad that it was love
affair with some mysterious celebrity, and that
Joe was buying wife with his gold for he
had Californy-worth,' said his landlords lit
tie boy, Teddy.
One evening Joe set out, as usual, with his
shabby old cloak and battered old hat, but well
enough beneath. He walked cautiously at
first, hobbling, was natural to him now,
with his rheumatics so bad but after he had
passed through his particular quarter, turning
round constantly as if to cough, but in reality
to see if any one were following, he walked
briskly on, cutting through all sorts of queer
alleys and bye-places, winding and doubling
like a fox; the best typographer in London
could not have followed him. At last he came
to a very pretty house in the Regents Park
house evidently inhabited by gentlewoman
Of fortune az well as taste, for all the appoint
ments were in such perfect keeping, and there
was such wealth of costly simplicity about
it as could only belong to both these condi
tions. The broker looked up at the window
as he came beneath it, and little girl of about
fourteen or fifteen-but slight for her age
ieaning out from among the geraniums, cried,
rs answer to his look:
why, Joe, how late you are tonight
That sweet voice the old man used to say
himself that he would not exchange its Joe
for good fppun' note. He nodded to her
afection1tely, and carefully scraping his shoes,
opened the door, went in-with the air of man
who knows that he will be welcome. He
took off his hat and cloak, and put them away
in dark corner, and then, clean and respect
able looking, he went up stairs to the draw
Sng-room.
A lady still beautiful and still young-young
al least for the mother of a child of fifteen
was sitting there embroidering. Surrounded
with every luxury and every beauty-nested
in that lonely home, like bird in golden
cage-how strange the chance which had
thrown together anything SO graceful as that
lady, and that old Jew broker; yet they were
well acquainted; they were even friends; for
she rose when he entered, and advanced to-
wards him kindly, and shook hands with him,
and drew forward the best easy chair Tor him,
and petted him as only woman can pet, with
out any visible over-tact. But all that Joe
seemed to wish tor was to sit little, and
watch her as she bent over her embroidery,
and to hear her say again and again that she
was contented and happy.
And are you certain sure that Won want
for nothing p inquired Joe nor Miss Marpa-
ret neither!
Nothing, Joe, nothing , and the swee,
LADY, looked nm affectionatelv as ;f IL. , ,