Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1859-11-26
$500 PER ANNUM.

afternoon when l found myself one day ira
versing the quiet streets OF Pentonville, whicl
looks on with the most profound composure
the traffic of the City Road. Pentonvile i
not hermit through disgust of the world, bu
through listessness and indifference. 1t can
not understand the hustle of mankind ii doe
not know what they are about, and does no
care. The dust of the great highway sweep
past, not through it, and it preserves, although
it cannot be said to feel o. enjoy, charmed
life ofits own. Already (for Pentonville keep!
early hours) the fragrant scent of tea aros,
from some of the areas as | passed, and tn,
cries of the milkmaids, bringing their contri.
buttons to the afternoon meal, were heard in
| all directions. Paragon Terrace, as all men
know, is retired even in this retirement. 1t is
small, genteel, and eight-roomed and being
one-sided, it enjoys rural view in front over
brick-felds. 1t was here my business lay: in
fact-why should disguise it?-Iw was look
ing for lodgings.
Being satisfied with the sitting-room pro-
posed for me in one of the houses, ascended
to the highest landing place of the neat but
narrow stairs to look at the bedroom but
when the landlady had already turned the key
in the door, an authoritative double-knock at
the street door called her down. She turned
the key back again, therefore, (which is men,
toned as a characteristic trait of the London
landlady,) and left me standing on the landing
place. Presently there came tripping up the
stairs nice-looking young woman lit may be
hardly out of her teens-bonnetted, shawled,
and wn-paper-parcelled. She unlocked
door beside me, and was about to go in, when,
taking her for the landladys daughter, in
quired whether her key would unlock the
other door. She answered in the negative.
"Are the two rooms alike2 ~
"oh, no. said she, 'this is only my room.n
Only her room could not resist the curios-
ity felt to get peep 1t was a mere closet,
which was entirely filled by little bedstead, a
little round work-table, and single chair.
In one corner of the room there was little
chimney, with a very little CRATE, supplied with
a homeopathic dose of remarkably small coal.
What might be at the other end could not
tell, as the door was prevented from opening
to the extent of more than one-third by the
bedstead.
"And you live here alone?" said /. The
young girl looked as if she did not know
whether to shut the door in my face (which
would have been London all over) or not but
after a momcntary glance, in which she saw
in me lad about her own age, she replied
with smile, "Not quite alone--Chirrup
Chirrupp
'Chirrup" replied dingy canary, in cage,
hanging by the window, rousing itself as if
from nap.
''You have not room for many visitors ?"
observed /.
~ have no occasion for room"
"Whatl have you no visitors? ?"
"No. How should II have of course no
acquaintances."
"Why of course?"
"Because am from the country-and not
many years neither"
"Years p cried with a start for my period
was as yet only months. "Do you mean to
tell me that you have been years in London
without making a single acquaintance ?"
"To be sure do' replied she with n plea
SAINT laugh and look of surprise. "How
should make acquaintances ?"
"Do yon not know your landlady, for in
stance ~
eyes, to pay her my rent; but what ! call |
IN acquaintance is some one to visit and to |
That to. have so many acquaintance in the |
,ountry But then do talk TO the milk wo-
nan sometimes, when run down stairs for
my halfpenny worth-and she is such n chat
And when go to the warehouse for my work,
here is a dozen young ladies as well as
myself all gabbling away at the same time
ha HAP
"But do they not visit you, nor You them
Do you not walk together? Do you never
wen meet on the street ?"
"Never. They have all their own families,
IL their own friends, or their own acqliain-
ances; and for me- have only-my own ca
lnryl Chirrupl chirrup l'-and the poor
'oung girl went gayly into her room, and shut
he door; leaving me-great calf that was
with a swelling heart and brimming eyes |
standing OH the landng-place.
This is q specimen of n London hermitess-
If n class little known and less noticed. Some
ortuitons circumstances may at length bring
hem an acquaintance and they may marry a
.lerk, a shopman, or n journeyman, and be-
,omc the mothers of line of cOckneys. But
II general they pass n monotonous, though |
lot always an unhappy life, from youth to age,
md glide away from the world without leav-
ng trace on its surface. The young girl
lavc mentioned became better known to me.
We remained landing-place acquaintance for
ome time, for took lodgings in the house
nut the details of life without blame and |
without incident would tell poorly here, and |
o shall pass from the solitary of Penton-
lille.
| may say, however, that on the present oc-
asion she had been put into better spirits than
Usual by receiving such an abundance of work
rom the warehouse; that she expected, by
lext Sunday, to have enough of savings 10 be
lble to complete the purchase of new bonnet.
What, then, was Sunday to her2 1t was day
o walk; to see crowds of people she did not
lnow gliding past with their families; to watch
undry interesting couples excepting company
md wonder with smile whether she would |
,ver have wooer to pat little children on
he head, and recall to memory her own broth
rs and sisters; and finally, to have large