Page:Grimshaw, Bagshaw and Bradshaw.djvu/9

but I'm afraid there's nothing of the sort there. Now, then, for my dressing-gown! Oh! I know—it's in this closet. (opens door l. c., and shows a closet, at the back of which a dressing-gown and other articles of apparel are hanging up—takes down dressing-gown, closing door after him: takes off his coat and puts on dressing-gown) There! and now for my slippers—they're in this closet. (opens door of closet, r. c, and takes out slippers—closing door) Let me see—where did I put the boot-jack?—I shall never be able to get these boots off without that jack. (hunting about) A bachelor's life has its advantages, no doubt; but if I was married, I should insist on Mrs. Grimshaw finding that boot-jack—in short, I should tell her, that if she didn't, I should go to bed in my boots! Ah! (sighs) what right 'has a chemist and druggist's shopman to think of matrimony?—and yet I do think of it, especially when I'm making up pills and penn'orths of salts for the poor people; and I suppose that's why I'm always making such dreadful blunders! I can't help it—my mind is always carrying me back to last Friday three weeks, when I was induced to go to Cremorne to see a man go up in a balloon on a donkey. I did go,—there was the balloon—there was the man—there was the donkey,—some people said there were two donkeys, but I only saw one;—away they went; and as I stood watching the intrepid aeronauts for a considerable period after they were out of sight, it suddenly came on to rain in torrents, and I heard a female voice at my elbow exclaim in the most touching accents—"What a fool I was to put on my new bonnet!" I turned and beheld a sky-blue creature in a sweet young bonnet—I mean, a sweet young creature in a sky-blue bonnet. I instantly offered her half my umbrella—she thanked me, and took it all. I offered to escort her home; before we got half way, we were such good friends that we were actually calling each other by our Christian names—Peter and Fanny,—she was Fanny. At length we arrived at her place of abode, which, to my unspeakable delight, I found to be exactly opposite my place of abode; there was only this one trifling drawback about it, that she occupies the front parlor, and I live in the two pair back, which may perhaps account for my never being able to see her as I look out at my window,—nevertheless, I know that she is near me—that the same