Japhet, In Search Of A Father Part 1 - Frederick Marryat (polar express read aloud .txt) 📗
- Author: Frederick Marryat
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Like Most Other Children, Who Should Be My Godfather Is Decided By
Mammon--So Precocious As To Make Some Noise In The World And Be
Hung A Few Days After I Was Born--Cut Down In Time And Produce A
Scene Of Bloodshed--My Early Propensities Fully Developed By The
Choice Of My Profession
Those Who May Be Pleased To Honour These Pages With A Perusal, Will Not
Be Detained With A Long Introductory History Of My Birth, Parentage, And
Education. The Very Title Implies That, At This Period Of My Memoirs, I
Was Ignorant Of The Two First; And It Will Be Necessary For The Due
Development Of My Narrative, That I Allow Them To Remain In The Same
State Of Bliss; For In The Perusal Of A Tale, As Well As In The
Pilgrimage Of Life, Ignorance Of The Future May Truly Be Considered As
The Greatest Source Of Happiness. The Little That Was Known Of Me At
This Time I Will However Narrate As Concisely, And As Correctly, As I Am
Able. It Was On The--I Really Forget The Date, And Must Rise From My
Chair, Look For A Key, Open A Closet, And Then Open An Iron Safe To Hunt
Over A Pile Of Papers--It Will Detain You Too Long--It Will Be
Sufficient To Say That It Was On _A_ Night--But Whether The Night Was
Dark Or Moonlit, Or Rainy Or Foggy, Or Cloudy Or Fine, Or Starlight, I
Really Cannot Tell; But It Is Of No Very Great Consequence. Well, It Was
On A Night About The Hour--There Again I'M Puzzled, It Might Have Been
Ten, Or Eleven, Or Twelve, Or Between Any Of These Hours; Nay It Might
Have Been Past Midnight, And Far Advancing To The Morning, For What I
Know To The Contrary. The Reader Must Excuse An Infant Of--There Again
I Am At A Nonplus; But We Will Assume Of Some Days Old--If, When Wrapped
Up In Flannel And In a Covered Basket, And, Moreover, Fast Asleep At The
Time, He Does Not Exactly Observe The State Of The Weather, And The Time
By The Church Clock. I Never Before Was Aware Of The Great Importance Of
Dates In Telling A Story; But It Is Now Too Late To Recover These Facts,
Which Have Been Swept Away Into Oblivion By The Broad Wing Of Time. I
Must Therefore Just Tell The Little I Do Know, Trusting To The Reader'S
Good Nature, And To Blanks. It Is As Follows:--That, At The Hour--Of
The Night--The State Of The Weather Being Also--I, An Infant Of A
Part 1 Chapter 1 Pg 2Certain Age--Was Suspended By Somebody Or Somebodies--At The Knocker
Of The Foundling Hospital. Having Made Me Fast, The Said Somebody Or
Somebodies Rang A Peal Upon The Bell Which Made The Old Porter Start Up
In So Great A Hurry, That, With The Back Of His Hand He Hit His Better
Half A Blow On The Nose, Occasioning A Great Suffusion Of Blood From
That Organ, And A Still Greater Pouring Forth Of Invectives From The
Organ Immediately Below It.
All This Having Been Effected By The Said Peal On The Bell, The Said
Somebody Or Somebodies Did Incontinently Take To Their Heels, And
Disappear Long Before The Old Porter Could Pull His Legs Through His
Nether Garments And Obey The Rude Summons. At Last The Old Man Swung
Open The Gate, And The Basket Swung Across His Nose; He Went In again
For A Knife And Cut Me Down, For It Was Cruel To Hang A Baby Of A Few
Days Old; Carried Me Into The Lodge, Lighted A Candle, And Opened The
Basket. Thus Did I Metaphorically First Come To Light.
When He Opened The Basket I Opened My Eyes, And Although I Did Not
Observe It, The Old Woman Was Standing At The Table In Very Light
Attire, Sponging Her Nose Over A Basin.
"Verily, A Pretty Babe With Black Eyes!" Exclaimed The Old Man In a
Tremulous Voice.
"Black Eyes Indeed," Muttered The Old Woman. "I Shall Have Two
To-Morrow."
"Beautiful Black Eyes Indeed!" Continued The Old Man.
"Terrible Black Eyes, For Sartain," Continued The Old Woman, As She
Sponged Away.
"Poor Thing, It Must Be Cold," Murmured The Old Porter.
"Warrant I Catch My Death A-Cold," Muttered The Wife.
"But, Dear Me, Here'S A Paper!" Exclaimed The Old Man.
"Vinegar And Brown Paper," Echoed The Old Woman.
"Addressed To The Governors Of The Hospital," Continued The Porter.
"Apply To The Dispenser Of The Hospital," Continued His Wife.
"And Sealed," Said He.
"Get It Healed," Said She.
"The Linen Is Good; It Must Be The Child Of No Poor People. Who
Knows?"--Soliloquised The Old Man.
"My Poor Nose!" Exclaimed The Old Woman.
"I Must Take It To The Nurses, And The Letter I Will Give To-Morrow,"
Said The Old Porter, Winding Up His Portion Of This Double Soliloquy,
And Tottering Away With The Basket And Your Humble Servant Across The
Courtyard.
Part 1 Chapter 1 Pg 3"There, It Will Do Now," Said The Old Wife, Wiping Her Face On A Towel,
And Regaining Her Bed, In Which She Was Soon Joined By Her Husband, And
They Finished Their Nap Without Any Further Interruption During That
Night.
The Next Morning I Was Reported And Examined, And The Letter Addressed
To The Governors Was Opened And Read. It Was Laconic, But Still, As Most
Things Laconic Are, Very Much To The Point.
"This Child Was Born In Wedlock--He Is To Be Named Japhet. When
Circumstances Permit, He Will Be Reclaimed."
But There Was A Postscript By Abraham Newlands, Esq., Promising To Pay
The Bearer, On Demand, The Sum Of Fifty Pounds. In Plainer Terms, There
Was A Bank Note To That Amount Inclosed In The Letter. As In General,
The Parties Who Suspend Children In baskets, Have Long Before Suspended
Cash Payments, Or, At All Events, Forget To Suspend Them With The
Baskets, My Arrival Created No Little Noise, To Which I Added My Share,
Until I Obtained A Share Of The Breast Of A Young Woman, Who, Like
Charity, Suckled Two Or Three Babies At One Time.
We Have Preparatory Schools All Over The Kingdom; For Young Gentlemen,
From Three To Five Years Of Age, Under Ladies, And From Four To Seven,
Under Either, Or Both Sexes, As It May Happen; But The Most Preparatory
Of All Preparatory Schools, Is Certainly The Foundling Hospital, Which
Takes In Its Pupils, If They Are Sent, From One To Three Days Old, Or
Even Hours, If The Parents Are In Such Extreme Anxiety About Their
Education. Here It Commences With Their Weaning, When They Are
Instructed In The Mystery Of Devouring Pap; Next, They Are Taught To
Walk--And As Soon As They Can Walk--To Sit Still; To Talk--And As Soon
As They Can Talk--To Hold Their Tongues; Thus Are They Instructed And
Passed On From One Part Of The Establishment To Another, Until They
Finally Are Passed Out Of Its Gates, To Get On In The World, With The
Advantages Of Some Education, And The Still Further Advantage Of Having
No Father Or Mother To Provide For, Or Relatives To Pester Them With
Their Necessities. It Was So With Me: I Arrived At The Age Of Fourteen,
And Notwithstanding The Promise Contained In The Letter, It Appeared
That Circumstances Did _Not_ Permit Of My Being Reclaimed. But I Had A
Great Advantage Over The Other Inmates Of The Hospital; The Fifty Pounds
Sent With Me Were Not Added To The Funds Of The Establishment, But
Generously Employed For My Benefit By The Governors, Who Were Pleased
With My Conduct, And Thought Highly Of My Abilities. Instead Of Being
Bound 'Prentice To A Cordwainer Or Some Other Mechanic, By The Influence
Of The Governors, Added To The Fifty Pounds And Interest, As A Premium,
I Was Taken By An Apothecary, Who Engaged To Bring Me Up To The
Profession. And Now, That I Am Out Of The Foundling, We Must Not Travel
Quite So Fast.
The Practitioner Who Thus Took Me By The Hand Was A Mr Phineas Cophagus,
Whose House Was Most Conveniently Situated For Business, One Side Of
The Shop Looking Upon Smithfield Market, The Other Presenting A Surface
Of Glass To The Principal Street Leading Out Of The Same Market. It Was
A _Corner_ House, But Not In a _Corner_. On Each Side Of The Shop Were
Two Gin Establishments, And Next To Them Were Two Public-Houses And Then
Two Eating-Houses, Frequented By Graziers, Butchers, And Drovers. Did
The Men Drink So Much As To Quarrel In Their Cups, Who Was So Handy To
Part 1 Chapter 1 Pg 4Plaister Up The Broken Heads As Mr Cophagus? Did A Fat Grazier Eat
Himself Into An Apoplexy, How Very Convenient Was The Ready Lancet Of Mr
Cophagus. Did A Bull Gore A Man, Mr Cophagus Appeared With His Diachylon
And Lint. Did An Ox Frighten A Lady, It Was In The Back Parlour Of Mr
Cophagus That She Was Recovered From Her Syncope. Market Days Were A
Sure Market To My Master; And If An Overdriven Beast Knocked Down
Others, It Only Helped To Set Him On His Legs. Our Windows Suffered
Occasionally; But Whether It Were Broken Heads, Or Broken Limbs, Or
Broken Windows, They Were Well Paid For. Every One Suffered But Mr
Phineas Cophagus, Who Never Suffered A Patient To Escape Him. The Shop
Had The Usual Allowance Of Green, Yellow, And Blue Bottles; And In Hot
Weather, From Our Vicinity, We Were Visited By No Small Proportion Of
Bluebottle Flies. We Had A White Horse In One Window, And A Brown Horse
In The Other, To Announce To The Drovers That We Supplied
Horse-Medicines. And We Had All The Patent Medicines In The Known World,
Even To The "All-Sufficient Medicine For Mankind" Of Mr Enouy; Having
Which, I Wondered, On My First Arrival, Why We Troubled Ourselves About
Any Others. The Shop Was Large, And At The Back Part There Was A Most
Capacious Iron Mortar, With A Pestle To Correspond. The First Floor Was
Tenanted By Mr Cophagus, Who Was A Bachelor; The Second Floor Was Let;
The Others Were Appropriated To The Housekeeper, And To Those Who Formed
The Establishment. In This Well-Situated Tenement, Mr Cophagus Got On
Swimmingly. I Will Therefore, For The Present, Sink The
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