Part 7 (1/2)

Nell was not a little alarmed to hear this, supposing that the lady might be intimately acquainted with the firm of Short and Codlin; but what followed tended to rea.s.sure her.

”And very sorry I was,” said the lady of the caravan, ”to see you in company with a Punch--a low practical, wulgar wretch, that people should scorn to look at.”

”I was not there by choice,” rejoined the child; ”we didn't know our way, and the two men were very kind to us, and let us travel with them.

Do you--do you know them, ma'am?”

”Know 'em, child!” cried the lady of the caravan in a sort of shriek.

”Know them! But you're young and inexperienced, and that's your excuse for asking sich a question. Do I look as if I know'd them? Does this caravan look as if it know'd 'em?”

”No, ma'am, no,” said the child, fearing that she had committed some grievous fault, ”I beg your pardon.”

It was granted immediately, and the child then explained that they had left the races on the first day, and were travelling to the next town, and ventured to inquire how far it was. The stout lady's reply was rather discouraging, and Nell could scarcely repress a tear at hearing that it was eight miles off. Her grandfather made no complaint, and the two were about to pa.s.s on, when the lady of the caravan called to the child to return. Beckoning to her to ascend the steps, she asked,--”Are you hungry?”

”Not very, but we are tired, and it's--it is a long way.”

”Well, hungry or not, you had better have some tea,” rejoined her new acquaintance. ”I suppose you're agreeable to that, old gentleman?”

The grandfather humbly pulled off his hat, and thanked her, and sitting down, they made a hearty meal, enjoying it to the utmost.

While they were thus engaged, the lady of the caravan held a short conversation with her driver, after which she informed Nell that she and her grandfather were to go forward in the caravan with her, for which kindness Nell thanked the lady with unaffected earnestness. She helped with great alacrity to put away the tea-things, and mounted into the vehicle, followed by her delighted grandfather. Their patroness then shut the door, and away they went, with a great noise of flapping, and creaking, and straining, and the bright bra.s.s knocker, knocking one perpetual double knock of its own accord as they jolted heavily along.

When they had travelled slowly forward for some short distance, Nell looked around the caravan, and observed it more closely. One half of it was carpeted, with a sleeping place, after the fas.h.i.+on of a berth on board s.h.i.+p, part.i.tioned off at the farther end, which was shaded with fair, white curtains, and looked comfortable enough,--though by what kind of gymnastic exercise the lady of the caravan ever contrived to get into it,--was an unfathomable mystery. The other half served for a kitchen, and was fitted up with a stove, whose small chimney pa.s.sed through the roof. It held, also, a closet or larder, and the necessary cooking utensils, which latter necessaries hung upon the walls, which in the other portion of the establishment were decorated with a number of well-thumbed musical instruments.

Presently the old man fell asleep, and the lady of the caravan invited Nell to come and sit beside her.

”Well, child,” she said, ”how do you like this way of travelling?”

Nell replied that she thought that it was very pleasant indeed. Instead of speaking again, the lady of the caravan sat looking at the child for a long time in silence, then getting up, brought out a roll of canvas about a yard in width, which she laid upon the floor, and spread open with her foot until it nearly reached from one end of the caravan to the other.

”There, child,” she said, ”read that.”

Nell walked down it, and read aloud, in enormous black letters, the inscription, ”JARLEY'S WAX-WORK.”

”Read it again,” said the lady complacently.

”Jarley's Wax-Work,” repeated Nell.

”That's me,” said the lady. ”I am Mrs. Jarley.”

The lady of the caravan then unfolded another scroll, whereon was the inscription, ”One hundred figures the full size of life,” then several smaller ones with such inscriptions as, ”The genuine and only Jarley,”

”Jarley is the delight of the n.o.bility and gentry,” ”The royal family are the patrons of Jarley.” When she had exhibited these to the astonished child, she brought forth hand-bills, some of which were couched in the form of parodies on popular melodies, as, ”Believe me, if all Jarley's Wax-Work so rare,” ”I saw thy show in youthful prime,”

”Over the water to Jarley.” While others were composed with a view to the lighter and more facetious spirits, as a parody on the favorite air of ”If I had a donkey,” beginning:

”If I know'd a donkey what wouldn't go To see MRS. JARLEY'S wax-work show, Do you think I'd acknowledge him?

Oh, no, no!

Then run to Jarley's”--

besides other compositions in prose, all having the same moral--namely, that the reader must make haste to Jarley's, and that children and servants were admitted at half price, Mrs. Jarley then rolled these testimonials up, and having put them carefully away, sat down and looked at the child in triumph.