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- 8545
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- 2026-01-30T03:55:03.883Z
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- 8479
- text
- he kept himself informed of European affairs, and the last literature,
foreign and domestic. And of this, when encouragement was given, he
would largely talk. But encouragement was not always given. At certain
houses, and not a few, Jimmy would drop in about ten minutes before the
tea-hour, and drop out again about ten minutes after it; well knowing
that his further presence was not indispensable to the contentment or
felicity of his host.
How forlorn it was to see him so heartily drinking the generous tea, cup
after cup, and eating the flavorous bread and butter, piece after piece,
when, owing to the lateness of the dinner hour with the rest, and the
abundance of that one grand meal with them, no one besides Jimmy touched
the bread and butter, or exceeded a single cup of Souchong. And knowing
all this very well, poor Jimmy would try to hide his hunger, and yet
gratify it too, by striving hard to carry on a sprightly conversation
with his hostess, and throwing in the eagerest mouthfuls with a sort of
absent-minded air, as if he ate merely for custom’s sake, and not
starvation’s.
Poor, poor Jimmy--God guard us all--poor Jimmy Rose!
Neither did Jimmy give up his courtly ways. Whenever there were ladies
at the table, sure were they of some fine word; though, indeed,
toward the close of Jimmy’s life, the young ladies rather thought
his compliments somewhat musty, smacking of cocked hats and
small-clothes--nay, of old pawnbrokers’ shoulder-lace and sword-belts.
For there still lingered in Jimmy’s address a subdued sort of martial
air; he having in his palmy days been, among other things, a general of
the State militia. There seems a fatality in these militia generalships.
Alas! I can recall more than two or three gentlemen who from militia
generals became paupers. I am afraid to think why this is so. Is it that
this military learning in a man of an unmilitary heart--that is, a
gentle, peaceable heart--is an indication of some weak love of vain
display? But ten to one it is not so. At any rate it is unhandsome, if
not unchristian, in the happy, too much to moralise on those who are not
so.
So numerous were the houses that Jimmy visited, or so cautious was he in
timing his less welcome calls, that at certain mansions he only dropped
in about once a year or so. And annually upon seeing at that house the
blooming Miss Frances or Miss Arabella, he would profoundly bow in his
forlorn old coat, and with his soft, white hand take hers in gallant
wise, saying, ‘Ah, Miss Arabella, these jewels here are bright upon
these fingers; but brighter would they look were it not for those still
brighter diamonds of your eyes!’
Though in thy own need thou hadst no pence to give the poor, thou,
Jimmy, still hadst alms to give the rich. For not the beggar chattering
at the corner pines more after bread than the vain heart after
compliment. The rich in their craving glut, as the poor in their craving
want, we have with us always. So, I suppose, thought Jimmy Rose.
But all women are not vain, or if a little grain that way inclined, more
than redeem it all with goodness. Such was the sweet girl that closed
poor Jimmy’s eyes. The only daughter of an opulent alderman, she knew
Jimmy well, and saw to him in his declining days. During his last
sickness, with her own hands she carried him jellies and blanc-mange;
made tea for him in his attic, and turned the poor old gentleman in his
bed. And well hadst thou deserved it, Jimmy, at that fair creature’s
hands; well merited to have thy old eyes closed by woman’s fairy
fingers, who through life, in riches and in poverty, was still woman’s
sworn champion and devotee.
I hardly know that I should mention here one little incident connected
with this young lady’s ministrations, and poor Jimmy’s reception of
them. But it is harm to neither; I will tell it.
- title
- Chunk 7