Clarissa Harlowe: Or, the History of a Young Lady, Volume 8 by Samuel Richardson Page A
Authors: Samuel Richardson
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went, they paying diligent attendance on my steps.
When I came into the shop, seeing no chair or stool, I went behind the compter, and sat down under an arched kind of canopy of carved work, which these proud traders, emulating the royal niche-fillers, often give themselves, while a joint-stool, perhaps, serves those by whom they get their bread: such is the dignity of trade in this mercantile nation!
I looked about me, and above me; and told them I was very proud of my seat; asking, if John were ever permitted to fill this superb niche?
Perhaps he was, he said, very surlily.
That is it that makes thee looks so like a statue, man.
John looked plaguy glum upon me. But his man Joseph and my man Will. turned round with their backs to us, to hide their grinning, with each his fist in his mouth.
I asked, what it was they sold?
Powder, and wash-balls, and snuff, they said; and gloves and stockings.
O come, I'll be your customer. Will. do I want wash-balls?
Yes, and please your Honour, you can dispense with one or two.
Give him half a dozen, dame Smith.
She told me she must come where I was, to serve them. Pray, Sir, walk
from behind the compter.
Indeed but I won't. The shop shall be mine. Where are they, if a
customer shall come in?
She pointed over my head, with a purse mouth, as if she would not have simpered, could she have helped it. I reached down the glass, and gave Will. six. There--put 'em up, Sirrah.
He did, grinning with his teeth out before; which touching my conscience, as the loss of them was owing to me, Joseph, said I, come hither. Come hither, man, when I bid thee.
He stalked towards me, his hands behind him, half willing, and half
unwilling.
I suddenly wrapt my arm round his neck. Will. thy penknife, this moment. D----n the fellow, where's thy penknife?
O Lord! said the pollard-headed dog, struggling to get his head loose from under my arm, while my other hand was muzzling about his cursed chaps, as if I would take his teeth out.
I will pay thee a good price, man: don't struggle thus? The penknife,
Will.!
O Lord, cried Joseph, struggling still more and more: and out comes Will.'s pruning-knife; for the rascal is a gardener in the country. I have only this, Sir.
The best in the world to launch a gum. D----n the fellow, why dost
struggle thus?
Master and Mistress Smith being afraid, I suppose, that I had a design upon Joseph's throat, because he was their champion, (and this, indeed, made me take the more notice of him,) coming towards me with countenances tragic-comical, I let him go.
I only wanted, said I, to take out two or three of this rascal's broad teeth, to put them into my servant's jaws--and I would have paid him his price for them.--I would by my soul, Joseph.
Joseph shook his ears; and with both hands stroked down, smooth as it would lie, his bushy hair; and looked at me as if he knew not whether he should laugh or be angry: but, after a stupid stare or two, stalked off to the other end of the shop, nodding his head at me as he went, still stroking down his hair; and took his stand by his master, facing about and muttering, that I was plaguy strong in the arms, and he thought would have throttled him. Then folding his arms, and shaking his bristled head, added, 'twas well I was a gentleman, or he would not have taken such an affront.
I demanded where their rappee was? the good woman pointed to the place; and I took up a scollop-shell of it, refusing to let her weight it, and filled my box. And now, Mrs. Smith, said I, where are your gloves?
She showed me; and I chose four pair of them, and set Joseph, who looked as if he wanted to be taken notice of again, to open the fingers.
A female customer, who had been gaping at the door, came in for some Scots sniff; and I would serve her. The wench was plaguy homely; and I told her so; or else, I said, I would have treated her. She, in anger, [no woman is homely in her own opinion,] threw down her penny; and I put it in my pocket.
Just
When I came into the shop, seeing no chair or stool, I went behind the compter, and sat down under an arched kind of canopy of carved work, which these proud traders, emulating the royal niche-fillers, often give themselves, while a joint-stool, perhaps, serves those by whom they get their bread: such is the dignity of trade in this mercantile nation!
I looked about me, and above me; and told them I was very proud of my seat; asking, if John were ever permitted to fill this superb niche?
Perhaps he was, he said, very surlily.
That is it that makes thee looks so like a statue, man.
John looked plaguy glum upon me. But his man Joseph and my man Will. turned round with their backs to us, to hide their grinning, with each his fist in his mouth.
I asked, what it was they sold?
Powder, and wash-balls, and snuff, they said; and gloves and stockings.
O come, I'll be your customer. Will. do I want wash-balls?
Yes, and please your Honour, you can dispense with one or two.
Give him half a dozen, dame Smith.
She told me she must come where I was, to serve them. Pray, Sir, walk
from behind the compter.
Indeed but I won't. The shop shall be mine. Where are they, if a
customer shall come in?
She pointed over my head, with a purse mouth, as if she would not have simpered, could she have helped it. I reached down the glass, and gave Will. six. There--put 'em up, Sirrah.
He did, grinning with his teeth out before; which touching my conscience, as the loss of them was owing to me, Joseph, said I, come hither. Come hither, man, when I bid thee.
He stalked towards me, his hands behind him, half willing, and half
unwilling.
I suddenly wrapt my arm round his neck. Will. thy penknife, this moment. D----n the fellow, where's thy penknife?
O Lord! said the pollard-headed dog, struggling to get his head loose from under my arm, while my other hand was muzzling about his cursed chaps, as if I would take his teeth out.
I will pay thee a good price, man: don't struggle thus? The penknife,
Will.!
O Lord, cried Joseph, struggling still more and more: and out comes Will.'s pruning-knife; for the rascal is a gardener in the country. I have only this, Sir.
The best in the world to launch a gum. D----n the fellow, why dost
struggle thus?
Master and Mistress Smith being afraid, I suppose, that I had a design upon Joseph's throat, because he was their champion, (and this, indeed, made me take the more notice of him,) coming towards me with countenances tragic-comical, I let him go.
I only wanted, said I, to take out two or three of this rascal's broad teeth, to put them into my servant's jaws--and I would have paid him his price for them.--I would by my soul, Joseph.
Joseph shook his ears; and with both hands stroked down, smooth as it would lie, his bushy hair; and looked at me as if he knew not whether he should laugh or be angry: but, after a stupid stare or two, stalked off to the other end of the shop, nodding his head at me as he went, still stroking down his hair; and took his stand by his master, facing about and muttering, that I was plaguy strong in the arms, and he thought would have throttled him. Then folding his arms, and shaking his bristled head, added, 'twas well I was a gentleman, or he would not have taken such an affront.
I demanded where their rappee was? the good woman pointed to the place; and I took up a scollop-shell of it, refusing to let her weight it, and filled my box. And now, Mrs. Smith, said I, where are your gloves?
She showed me; and I chose four pair of them, and set Joseph, who looked as if he wanted to be taken notice of again, to open the fingers.
A female customer, who had been gaping at the door, came in for some Scots sniff; and I would serve her. The wench was plaguy homely; and I told her so; or else, I said, I would have treated her. She, in anger, [no woman is homely in her own opinion,] threw down her penny; and I put it in my pocket.
Just
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