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his　strong　box　…　for　which　architectural　offence　alone　he　ought　to

have　been　condemned　to　live　in　it。　　But；　what　populace　would　waste

fancy　upon　such　a　place；　or　on　New　Inn；　Staple　Inn；　Barnard's　Inn；

or　any　of　the　shabby　crew？



The　genuine　laundress；　too；　is　an　institution　not　to　be　had　in　its

entirety　out　of　and　away　from　the　genuine　Chambers。　　Again；　it　is

not　denied　that　you　may　be　robbed　elsewhere。　　Elsewhere　you　may

have　…　for　money　…　dishonesty；　drunkenness；　dirt；　laziness；　and

profound　incapacity。　　But　the　veritable　shining…red…faced　shameless

laundress；　the　true　Mrs。　Sweeney　…　in　figure；　colour；　texture；　and

smell；　like　the　old　damp　family　umbrella；　the　tip…top　complicated

abomination　of　stockings；　spirits；　bonnet；　limpness；　looseness；　and

larceny；　is　only　to　be　drawn　at　the　fountain…head。　　Mrs。　Sweeney　is

beyond　the　reach　of　individual　art。　　It　requires　the　united　efforts

of　several　men　to　ensure　that　great　result；　and　it　is　only

developed　in　perfection　under　an　Honourable　Society　and　in　an　Inn

of　Court。







CHAPTER　XV　…　NURSE'S　STORIES







There　are　not　many　places　that　I　find　it　more　agreeable　to　revisit

when　I　am　in　an　idle　mood；　than　some　places　to　which　I　have　never

been。　　For；　my　acquaintance　with　those　spots　is　of　such　long

standing；　and　has　ripened　into　an　intimacy　of　so　affectionate　a

nature；　that　I　take　a　particular　interest　in　assuring　myself　that

they　are　unchanged。



I　never　was　in　Robinson　Crusoe's　Island；　yet　I　frequently　return

there。　　The　colony　he　established　on　it　soon　faded　away；　and　it　is

uninhabited　by　any　descendants　of　the　grave　and　courteous

Spaniards；　or　of　Will　Atkins　and　the　other　mutineers；　and　has

relapsed　into　its　original　condition。　　Not　a　twig　of　its　wicker

houses　remains；　its　goats　have　long　run　wild　again；　its　screaming

parrots　would　darken　the　sun　with　a　cloud　of　many　flaming　colours

if　a　gun　were　fired　there；　no　face　is　ever　reflected　in　the　waters

of　the　little　creek　which　Friday　swam　across　when　pursued　by　his

two　brother　cannibals　with　sharpened　stomachs。　　After　comparing

notes　with　other　travellers　who　have　similarly　revisited　the　Island

and　conscientiously　inspected　it；　I　have　satisfied　myself　that　it

contains　no　vestige　of　Mr。　Atkins's　domesticity　or　theology；　though

his　track　on　the　memorable　evening　of　his　landing　to　set　his

captain　ashore；　when　he　was　decoyed　about　and　round　about　until　it

was　dark；　and　his　boat　was　stove；　and　his　strength　and　spirits

failed　him；　is　yet　plainly　to　be　traced。　　So　is　the　hill…top　on

which　Robinson　was　struck　dumb　with　joy　when　the　reinstated　captain

pointed　to　the　ship；　riding　within　half　a　mile　of　the　shore；　that

was　to　bear　him　away；　in　the　nine…and…twentieth　year　of　his

seclusion　in　that　lonely　place。　　So　is　the　sandy　beach　on　which　the

memorable　footstep　was　impressed；　and　where　the　savages　hauled　up

their　canoes　when　they　came　ashore　for　those　dreadful　public

dinners；　which　led　to　a　dancing　worse　than　speech…making。　　So　is

the　cave　where　the　flaring　eyes　of　the　old　goat　made　such　a　goblin

appearance　in　the　dark。　　So　is　the　site　of　the　hut　where　Robinson

lived　with　the　dog　and　the　parrot　and　the　cat；　and　where　he　endured

those　first　agonies　of　solitude；　which　…　strange　to　say　…　never

involved　any　ghostly　fancies；　a　circumstance　so　very　remarkable；

that　perhaps　he　left　out　something　in　writing　his　record？　　Round

hundreds　of　such　objects；　hidden　in　the　dense　tropical　foliage；　the

tropical　sea　breaks　evermore；　and　over　them　the　tropical　sky；

saving　in　the　short　rainy　season；　shines　bright　and　cloudless。



Neither；　was　I　ever　belated　among　wolves；　on　the　borders　of　France

and　Spain；　nor；　did　I　ever；　when　night　was　closing　in　and　the

ground　was　covered　with　snow；　draw　up　my　little　company　among　some

felled　trees　which　served　as　a　breastwork；　and　there　fire　a　train

of　gunpowder　so　dexterously　that　suddenly　we　had　three　or　four

score　blazing　wolves　illuminating　the　darkness　around　us。

Nevertheless；　I　occasionally　go　back　to　that　dismal　region　and

perform　the　feat　again；　when　indeed　to　smell　the　singeing　and　the

frying　of　the　wolves　afire；　and　to　see　them　setting　one　another

alight　as　they　rush　and　tumble；　and　to　behold　them　rolling　in　the

snow　vainly　attempting　to　put　themselves　out；　and　to　hear　their

howlings　taken　up　by　all　the　echoes　as　well　as　by　all　the　unseen

wolves　within　the　woods；　makes　me　tremble。



I　was　never　in　the　robbers'　cave；　where　Gil　Blas　lived；　but　I　often

go　back　there　and　find　the　trap…door　just　as　heavy　to　raise　as　it

used　to　be；　while　that　wicked　old　disabled　Black　lies　everlastingly

cursing　in　bed。　　I　was　never　in　Don　Quixote's　study；　where　he　read

his　books　of　chivalry　until　he　rose　and　hacked　at　imaginary　giants；

and　then　refreshed　himself　with　great　draughts　of　water；　yet　you

couldn't　move　a　book　in　it　without　my　knowledge；　or　with　my

consent。　　I　was　never　（thank　Heaven）　in　company　with　the　little　old

woman　who　hobbled　out　of　the　chest　and　told　the　merchant　Abudah　to

go　in　search　of　the　Talisman　of　Oromanes；　yet　I　make　it　my　business

to　know　that　she　is　well　preserved　and　as　intolerable　as　ever。　　I

was　never　at　the　school　where　the　boy　Horatio　Nelson　got　out　of　bed

to　steal　the　pears：　　not　because　he　wanted　any；　but　because　every

other　boy　was　afraid：　　yet　I　have　several　times　been　back　to　this

Academy；　to　see　him　let　down　out　of　window　with　a　sheet。　　So　with

Damascus；　and　Bagdad；　and　Brobingnag　（which　has　the　curious　fate　of

being　usually　misspelt　when　written）；　and　Lilliput；　and　Laputa；　and

the　Nile；　and　Abyssinia；　and　the　Ganges；　and　the　North　Pole；　and

many　hundreds　of　places　…　I　was　never　at　them；　yet　it　is　an　affair

of　my　life　to　keep　them　intact；　and　I　am　always　going　back　to　them。



But；　when　I　was　in　Dullborough　one　day；　revisiting　the　associations

of　my　childhood　as　recorded　in　previous　pages　of　these　notes；　my

experience　in　this　wise　was　made　quite　inconsiderable　and　of　no

account；　by　the　quantity　of　places　and　people　…　utterly　impossible

places　and　people；　but　none　the　less　alarmingly　real　…　that　I　found

I　had　been　introduced　to　by　my　nurse　before　I　was　six　years　old；

and　used　to　be　forced　to　go　back　to　at　night　without　at　all　wanting

to　go。　　If　we　all　knew　our　own　minds　（in　a　more　enlarged　sense　than

the　popular　acceptation　of　that　phrase）；　I　suspect　we　should　find

our　nurses　responsible　for　most　of　the　dark　corners　we　are　forced

to　go　back　to；　against　our　wills。



The　first　diabolical　character　who　intruded　himself　on　my　peaceful

youth　（as　I　called　to　mind　that　day　at　Dullborough）；　was　a　certain

Captain　Murderer。　　This　wretch　must　have　been　an　off…shoot　of　the

Blue　Beard　family；　but　I　had　no　suspicion　of　the　consanguinity　in

those　times。　　His　warning　name　would　seem　to　have　awakened　no

general　prejudice　against　him；　for　he　was　admitted　into　the　best

society　and　possessed　immense　wealth。　　Captain　Murderer's　mission

was　matrimony；　and　the　gratification　of　a　cannibal　appetite　with

tender　brides。　　On　his　marriage　morning；　he　always　caused　both

sides　of　the　way　to　church　to　be　planted　with　curious　flowers；　and

when　his　bride　said；　'Dear　Captain　Murderer；　I　ever　saw　flowers

like　these　before：　　what　are　they　called？'　he　answered；　'They　are

called　Garnish　for　house…lamb；'　and　laughed　at　his　ferocious

practical　joke　in　a　horrid　manner；　disquieting　the　minds　of　the

noble　bridal　company；　with　a　very　sharp　show　of　teeth；　then

displayed　for　the　first　time。　　He　made　love　in　a　coach　and　six；　and

married　in　a　coach　and　twelve；　and　all　his　horses　were　milk…white

horses　with　one　red　spot　on　the　back　which　he　caused　to　be　hidden

by　the　harness。　　For；　the　spot　WOULD　come　there；　though　every　horse

was　milk…white　when　Captain　Murderer　bought　him。　　And　the　spot　was

young　bride's　blood。　　（To　this　terrific　point　I　am　indebted　for　my

first　personal　experience　of　a　shudder　and　cold　beads　on　the

forehead。）　　When　Captain　Murderer　had　made　an　end　of　feasting　and

revelry；　and　had　dismissed　the　noble　guests；　and　was　alone　with　his

wife　on　the　day　month　after　their　marriage；　it　was　his　whimsical

custom　to　produce　a　golden　rolling…pin　and　a　silver　pie…board。

Now；　there　was　this　special　feature　in　the　Captain's　courtships；

that　he　always　asked　if　the　young　lady　could　make　pie…crust；　and　if

she　couldn't　by　nature　or　education；　she　was　taught。　　Well。　　When

the　bride　saw　Captain　Murderer　produce　the　golden　rolling…pin　and

silver　pie…board；　she　remembered　this；　and　turned　up　her　laced…silk

sleeves　to　make　a　pie。　　The　Captain　brought　out　a　silver　pie…dish

of　immense　capacity；　and　the　Captain　brought　out　flour　and　butter

and　eggs　and　all　things　needful；　except　the　inside　of　the　pie；　of

materials　for　the　staple　of　the　pie　itself；　the　Captain　brought　out

none。　　Then　said　the　lovely　bride；　'Dear　Captain　Murderer；　what　pie

is　this　to　be？'　　He　replied；　'A　meat　pie。'　　Then　said　the　lovely

bride；　'Dear　Captain　Murderer；　I　see　no　meat。'　　The　Captain

humorously　retorted；　'Look　in　the　glass。'　　She　looked　in　the　glass；

but　still　she　saw　no　meat；　and　then　the　Captain　roared　with

laughter；　and　suddenly　frowning　and　drawing　his　sword；　bade　her

roll　out　the　crust。　　So　she　rolled　out　the　crust；　dropping　large

tears　upon　it　all　the　time　because　he　was　so　cross；　and　when　she

had　lined　the　dish　with　crust　and　had　cut　the　crust　all　ready　to

fit　the　top；　the　Captain　called　out；　'I　see　the　meat　in　the　glass！'

And　the　bride　looked　up　at　the　glass；　just　in　time　to　see　the

Captain　cutting　her　head　off；　and　he　chopped　her　in　pieces；　and

peppered　her；　and　salted　her；　and　put　her　in　the　pie；　and　sent　it

to　the　baker's；　and　ate　it　all；　and　picked　the　bones。



Captain　Murderer　went　on　in　this　way；　prospering　exceedingly；　until

he　came　to　choose　a　bride　from　two　twin　sisters；　and　at　first

didn't　know　which　to　choose。　　For；　though　one　was　fair　and　the

other　dark；　they　were　both　equally　beautiful。　　But　the　f