The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1873-01-08
NOT JUST YET .
BY E. LOWERY.

fILeen years ago, LONDON was
much jollier place in every way
than it is now. It had an indi
viduality Of its own then; its big
hotels were unbuilt, it's Houses Of
Parliament were unfinished; it
was just a big, brown, busy city,
with . splendid river running slap
through it. For it had a river
then, with shores and noble bridges;
now it has but 8 stone trough,
with iron drain-pipcs across it.
One rode on the top Of buses then,
or darted about in hansoms; now,
I declare, when l visit London, |
spend all my time in a coal-cellar,
where there is an escape Of gas,
and where all the hot cindcrs from
the kitchen fire are emptied-l
mean the metropolitan Railway.
Fifteen years ago / was in Lon.
don, living on a slender pittance,
and much troubled in the matter
Of dinners.
One Sunday. I remember, my
funds were getting low, very low.
[ had determined to remain in my
lodgings and support nature on
tobacco-smoke; but my hunger
was too strong. I had a few shil-
lings left, and the evening wore
on, and as the cravings of my ap-
petite increased, resolution broke
down. put on my hat, and hur-
ried out in quest of q dinner.
When l made up my mind to 60
to the Recesses for a dinner, it
was because l knew that there
was no other place open the prices
of which would be within my
means. How dismal It looked this
Sunday evening, that long low
room. it's tables almost deserted,
save for one or two men here ana
there nodding over a plate Of bis
cults. There was pea-soup that
night, I remember, and it was ra-
ther good too. The fish was fshy,
the Joint was reduced to a stump.
"Waiter," / cried, noan I dis
pense with the other courses, and
dine off the soup?'
eff you wish, Of course, sir"
said the waiter.
! had three helps of that excel
lent pea-soup, and in each plate I
put a spoonful Of dried mint. But
the after result was not exhilara-
ting; it rather clogged the pores,
1 think, that soup. Miserable and
depressed as I went into the Re-
cesses, I felt still more miserable,
moro depressed after my dinner.
1 had spent my prescribed allow
ance. I couldn't 60 anywhere or
do anything. ! could only 60
back to my gloomy lodgings
through the sloppy street, and sit,
and lonely chew the cud Of bitter
meditation.
The idea seemed to me horrible;
and yet now, as ever, there ap-
peared to be no escape for me
from the embraces of this dull
melancholy fiend. I couldn't help
saying to myself, as I sat with
my chin resting on my hands, II
wish I were dead !"
I didn't mean to say it aloud,
but I suppose I must have whis-
pered it audibly for man who
was sitting opposite me at the Ia
hle-who had been sitting there,
smoothing his heavy red mustache
all the time I had been dining, his
eyes fixed on his platc-looked up
of a sudden, and gave me q quick
and searching glance.
I knew him then ; it was Med
hurst, an old schoolfellow. AS o
boy he had been always a mystery
to US; that quick sudden glance
Of lis had such q strange effect up
on all on whom it fell. We used
to say he had the Evil Eye, and
W wonderful tales used to be told at
school about the effect Of Med
bursts look. Still, I was glad to
see him ; any relief from the lone
Illness and monotony of my life
was pleasant. He recognized me
also, and came over and sat beside
me.