The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1873-03-22
PEARL AND EMERALD,
CHAPTER VIII.
DOUBLE LIFE.

Even in the shortest story, which hur-
ries itself along as fast as may be, over a
short space of time, and yet endeavors to
tell all things that need be known ABOUT
everybody with whom it is concerned,
there must be occasional intervals during
which nothing happens, and about which
there is absolutely nothing to teil-in
which the streams of the lives of those
with whom it deals do not blend, but flow
in independent and parallel course. SO 1t
was with Mr.. erode, so it was with Felicia,
SO with Arthur Cranstoun, SO with Nathan
Levi during the few months that followed
the departure from her home of the second
named of these. Each lived his or her own
life. and went on his or her own way; and
that is about all that can be said OF any OF
them. But as no one can go on his own
way without at last arriving somewhere,
and as that somewhere is all with which a
short story has to do:
There is, then-to let these same few
months drop unnoticed into the sea OF
oblivion-a certain part of Soho which IS
almost as much French colony as Alglers
itself. There the hungry man has to sat
isfy himself with strange ragouts OF horse
flesh and beans, and the exhausted to re-
cruit his energies with absinthe, though
within a stones throw of roast beef and
pale ale. The geography of this colony is
little arbitrary, for sometimes it has tax
en- complete possession of one side OF
street, without encroaching in the least
upon the other; but to those who know the
district, it is well-marked enough. 1t is
here that lodge by night those who by day
are the ha5itues of Coventry street and the
Quadrant; it is here that they hatch con-
spiracies as added as the eggs whereof too
often they have to make their omelettes
aur fines herbes; and it is here that they
Get washed to a too quickly evanescent
whiteness, the scanty linen which has so
much the air of having been born with the
jaundice.
| In one of these small streets, to which
the possession of a Jlanchisserie Fran
caise'' gave quite an ill-deserved sugges-
ton of superior cleanliness, with its snowy
gauze curtains and its prospect, through
the ever-open door, of two or three rosy
| Norman faces in semi Norman caps, whose
owners were eternally engaged in crimping,
clear. starchirg, and chattering-if these
are the proper techuicals terms to describe
their occupation-were to be seen as many
| eccentric specimens of human nature as in
any part of London. do not mean the
army of unhealthy gutterchildren, and of
other Arab tribes that made this street
their playground, their schoolroom, and
their home: these were not out of the COM
mon. heaven knows. l mean rather those
who passed along it in the morning and
evening, on their way elsewhere; those who
had to leave their country for their coun-
try's good Or i'll, as the case might be, and
had found a refuge in Soho. The cloaks
and boards and hats familiar to Bean street,
and which there passed unnoticed, were
wholly unfamiliar elsewhere, and would
have gathered starers in Mayfair and a
mob in the Strand. But it is not with
exiled patriots and swindlers that we have
| to do now. 1t is with certain old-clothes-
man, who invariably took Bean street on
his way to his daily business.
He was a very old clothesman of old
clothesmen, of we'll known and histori-
cal type that has of late years been little
on the wane. He carried on his back the
orthodox black bag, and wore upon his
head the orthodox three hats if not more
while he was dressed in his greasiest, most
homogeneous, oldest clothes of all-greasy,
homogeneous, and old beyond possibility of
purchase or sale. Nor could one hear his
cry without ascribng him at once to the
orthodox and traditional nation of his call
| ing. But how he could find any one to
deal with him was almost inconceivable
He had simply the most hideons face in all
London, and was deformed in body be-
sides.
On his first appearance in Bean street, lie
had created quite sensation even there,
accustomed as it was to strange appear
ances. A well-directed stone had struck
off the topmost of his three hats; and he,
in revenge, had caught hold-not of the
offending urchin-but of a small boy who
was gazing at him open-mouthed, and had
given him such thrashing with an old
umbrella, that "Fll give you to old Mo tc
put you in his bag!' became henceforth
the best and surest way of stopping the
crying of all the unruly babies within q
mile. The hat itself was picked up by one
of the gi-is-not, however, one of the rosy
faced Normandes. but by young fellow
woman of theirs, who handed it to it:
owner quietly, and without any outward
symptom Of disgust or fear. He, however
did not even say "Thank you," but scowl
ed tiercely at her and passed on.
The next day he passed the blanchisseri
again, and passed also the same young girl
who was entering the door at the moment
SO Glossy that she, being engaged in wool
gathering, just brushed him inadvertentl,
with her dress. She recognized him-how
indeed, could she help ito-and instinc
, lively wished him "Good morning as hi
; went on his way.
, Perhaps had he been youn. and good
looking fellow, he would lave had to wal
: EE9at many mornings for his salutation