Japhet, In Search Of A Father by Frederick Marryat

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We reduced the dislocation, and then carried Mr Cophagus up to his bed.
In an hour he was sensible, and Mr Pleggit took his departure, shaking
hands with Mr Cophagus, and wishing him joy of his providential escape.

"Bad job, Japhet," said Mr Cophagus to me.

"Very bad indeed, sir; but it might have been worse."

"Worse--um--no, nothing worse--not possible."

"Why, sir, you might have been killed."

"Pooh!--didn't mean that--mean Pleggit--rascal--um--kill me if he
can--sha'n't though--soon get rid of him--and so on."

"You will not require his further attendance now that your shoulder is
reduced. I can very well attend upon you."

"Very true, Japhet;--but won't go--sure of that--damned rascal--quite
pleased--I saw it--um--eyes twinkled--smile checked--and so on."

That evening Mr Pleggit called in as Mr Cophagus said that he would,
and the latter showed a great deal of impatience; but Mr Pleggit
repeated his visits over and over again, and I observed that Mr Cophagus
no longer made any objection; on the contrary, seemed anxious for his
coming, and still more so, after he was convalescent, and able to sit at
his table. But the mystery was soon divulged. It appeared that Mr
Cophagus, although he was very glad that other people should suffer from
mad bulls, and come to be cured, viewed the case in a very different
light when the bull thought proper to toss him, and having now realised
a comfortable independence, he had resolved to retire from business, and
from a site attended with so much danger. A hint of this escaping him
when Mr Pleggit was attending him on the third day after his accident,
the latter, who knew the value of the _locale_, also hinted that if Mr
Cophagus was inclined so to do, that he would be most happy to enter
into an arrangement with him. Self-interest will not only change
friendship into enmity, in this rascally world, but also turn enmity
into friendship. All Mr Pleggit's enormities, and all Mr Cophagus'
shameful conduct, were mutually forgotten. In less than ten minutes it
was, "_My dear Mr Pleggit_, and so on," and "_My dear brother
Cophagus_."

In three weeks every thing had been arranged between them, and the shop,
fixtures, stock in trade, and good will, were all the property of our
ancient antagonist. But although Mr Pleggit could shake hands with Mr
Cophagus for his fixtures and _good will_, yet as Timothy and I were not
included in the _good will_, neither were we included among the
_fixtures_, and Mr Cophagus could not, of course, interfere with Mr
Pleggit's private arrangements. He did all he could do in the way of
recommendation, but Mr Pleggit had not forgotten my occasional
impertinences or the battle of the bottles. I really believe that his
_ill will_ against Timothy was one reason for purchasing the _good will_
of Mr Cophagus, and we were very gently told by Mr Pleggit that he would
have no occasion for our services.

Mr Cophagus offered to procure me another situation as soon as he could,
and at the same time presented me with twenty guineas, as a proof of
his regard and appreciation of my conduct--but this sum put in my hand
decided me: I thanked him, and told him I had other views at present,
but hoped he would let me know where I might find him hereafter, as I
should be glad to see him again. He told me he would leave his address
for me at the Foundling Hospital, and shaking me heartily by the hand,
we parted. Timothy was then summoned. Mr Cophagus gave him five guineas,
and wished him good fortune.

"And now, Japhet, what are you about to do?" said Timothy, as he
descended into the shop.

"To do," replied I; "I am about to leave you, which is the only thing I
am sorry for. I am going, Timothy, in search of my father."

"Well," replied Timothy, "I feel as you do, Japhet, that it will be hard
to part; and there is another thing on my mind--which is, I am very
sorry that the bull did not break the rudimans (pointing to the iron
mortar and pestle); had he had but half the spite I have against it, he
would not have left a piece as big as a thimble. I've a great mind to
have a smack at it before I go."

"You will only injure Mr Cophagus, for the mortar will not then be paid
for."

"Very true; and as he has just given me five guineas, I will refrain
from my just indignation. But now, Japhet, let me speak to you. I don't
know how you feel, but I feel as if I could not part with you. I do not
want to go in search of my father particularly. They say it's a wise
child that knows its own father--but as there can be no doubt of my
other parent--if I can only hit upon her, I have a strong inclination to
go in search of my mother, and if you like my company, why I will go
with you--always, my dear Japhet," continued Tim, "keeping in my mind
the great difference between a person who has been feed as an M.D., and
a lad who only carries out his prescriptions."

"Do you really mean to say, Tim, that you will go with me?"

"Yes, to the end of the world, Japhet, as your companion, your friend,
and your servant, if you require it. I love you, Japhet, and I will
serve you faithfully."

"My dear Tim, I am delighted; now I am really happy: we will have but
one purse, and but one interest; if I find good fortune, you shall share
it."

"And if you meet with ill luck, I will share that too--so the affair is
settled--and as here come Mr Pleggit's assistants with only one pair of
eyes between them, the sooner we pack up the better."

In half an hour all was ready; a bundle each, contained our wardrobes.
We descended from our attic, walked proudly through the shop without
making any observation, or taking any notice of our successors; all the
notice taken was by Timothy, who turned round and shook his fist at his
old enemies, the iron mortar and pestle; and there we were, standing on
the pavement, with the wide world before us, and quite undecided which
way we should go.

"Is it to be east, west, north, or south, Japhet?" said Timothy.

"The wise men came from the east," replied I.

"Then they must have travelled west," said Tim; "let us show our wisdom
by doing the same."

"Agreed."

Passing by a small shop, we purchased two good sticks, as defenders, as
well as to hang our bundles on--and off we set upon our pilgrimage.

Chapter VIII

We take a coach, but the driver does not like his fare and hits us
foul--We change our mode of travelling upon the principle of slow
and sure, and fall in with a very learned man.

I believe it to be a very general custom, when people set off upon a
journey, to reckon up their means--that is, to count the money which
they may have in their pockets. At all events, this was done by Timothy
and me, and I found that my stock amounted to twenty-two pounds
eighteen shillings, and Timothy's to the five guineas presented by Mr
Cophagus, and three halfpence which were in the corner of his waistcoat
pocket--sum total, twenty-eight pounds three shillings and three
halfpence; a very handsome sum, as we thought, with which to commence
our peregrinations, and, as I observed to Timothy, sufficient to last us
for a considerable time, if husbanded with care.

"Yes," replied he, "but we must husband our legs also, Japhet, or we
shall soon be tired, and very soon wear out our shoes. I vote we take a
hackney coach."

"Take a hackney coach, Tim! we mustn't think of it; we cannot afford
such a luxury; you can't be tired yet, we are now only just clear of
Hyde Park Corner."

"Still I think we had better take a coach, Japhet, and here is one
coming. I always do take one when I carry out medicines, to make up for
the time I lose looking at the shops, and playing peg in the ring."

I now understood what Timothy meant, which was, to get behind and have a
ride for nothing. I consented to this arrangement, and we got up behind
one which was already well filled inside. "The only difference between
an inside and outside passenger in a hackney coach, is that one pays,
and the other does not," said I, to Timothy, as we rolled along at the
act of parliament speed of four miles per hour.

"That depends upon circumstances: if we are found out, in all
probability we shall not only have our ride, but be _paid_ into the
bargain."

"With the coachman's whip, I presume?"

"Exactly." And Timothy had hardly time to get the word out of his mouth,
when flac, flac, came the whip across our eyes--a little envious wretch,
with his shirt hanging out of his trousers, having called out, _Cut
behind!_ Not wishing to have our faces, or our behinds cut any more, we
hastily descended, and reached the footpath, after having gained about
three miles on the road before we were discovered.

"That wasn't a bad lift, Japhet, and as for the whip I never mind that
with _corduroys_. And now, Japhet, I'll tell you something; we must get
into a wagon, if we can find one going down the road, as soon as it is
dark."

"But that will cost money, Tim."

"It's economy, I tell you; for a shilling, if you bargain, you may ride
the whole night, and if we stop at a public-house to sleep, we shall
have to pay for our beds, as well as be obliged to order something to
eat, and pay dearer for it than if we buy what we want at cooks' shops."

"There is sense in what you say, Timothy; we will look out for a wagon."

"Oh! it's no use now--wagons are like black beetles, not only in shape
but in habits, they only travel by night--at least most of them do. We
are now coming into long dirty Brentford, and I don't know how you feel,
Japhet, but I find that walking wonderfully increases the
appetite--that's another reason why you should not walk when you can
ride--for nothing."

"Well, I'm rather hungry myself; and dear me, how very good that piece
of roast pork looks in that window!"

"I agree with you--let's go in and make a bargain!"

We bought a good allowance for a shilling, and after sticking out for a
greater proportion of mustard than the woman said we were entitled to,
and some salt, we wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and continued our
course, till we arrived at a baker's, where we purchased our bread, and
then taking up a position on a bench outside a public-house, called for
a pot of beer, and putting our provisions down before us, made a hearty,
and, what made us more enjoy it, an independent meal. Having finished
our pork and our porter, and refreshed ourselves, we again started and
walked till it was quite dark, when we felt so tired that we agreed to
sit down on our bundles and wait for the first wagon which passed. We
soon heard the jingling of bells, and shortly afterwards its enormous
towering bulk appeared between us and the sky. We went up to the
wagoner, who was mounted on a little pony, and asked him if he could
give two poor lads a lift, and how much he would charge us for the ride.

"How much can you afford to give, measters? for there be others as poor
as ye." We replied that we could give a shilling. "Well, then, get up in
God's name, and ride as long as you will. Get in behind."

"Are there many people in there already?" said I, as I climbed up, and
Timothy handed me the bundles.

"Noa," replied the wagoner, "there be nobody but a mighty clever
poticary or doctor, I can't tell which; but he wear an uncommon queer
hat, and he talk all sort of doctor stuff--and there be his odd man and
his odd boy; that be all, and there be plenty of room, and plenty o'
clean _stra_'."

After this intimation we climbed up, and gained a situation in the rear
of the wagon under the cloth. As the wagoner said, there was plenty of
room, and we nestled into the straw without coming into contact with the
other travellers. Not feeling any inclination to sleep, Timothy and I
entered into conversation, _sotto voce_, and had continued for more than
half an hour, supposing by their silence that the other occupants of the
wagon were asleep, when we were interrupted by a voice clear and
sonorous as a bell.

"It would appear that you are wanderers, young men, and journey you know
not whither. Birds seek their nests when the night falls--beasts hasten
to their lairs--man bolts his door. '_Propria quae maribus_,' as
Herodotus hath it; which, when translated, means, that 'such is the
nature of mankind.' '_Tribuuntur mascula dicas_' 'Tell me your
troubles,' as Homer says."

I was very much surprised at this address--my knowledge of the language
told me immediately that the quotations were out of the Latin grammar,
and that all his learning was pretence; still there was a novelty of
style which amused me, and at the same time gave me an idea that the
speaker was an uncommon personage. I gave Timothy a nudge, and then
replied,

"You have guessed right, most learned sir; we are, as you say, wanderers
seeking our fortunes, and trust yet to find them--still we have a weary
journey before us, '_Haustus hora somni sumendum_,' as Aristotle hath
it; which I need not translate to so learned a person as yourself."

"Nay, indeed, there is no occasion; yet am I pleased to meet with one
who hath scholarship," replied the other. "Have you also a knowledge of
the Greek?"

"No, I pretend not to Greek."

"It is a pity that thou hast it not, for thou wouldst delight to
commune with the ancients. Esculapius hath these
words--'A_shol_der--offmotton--_acca_pon--pasti--venison,'--which I will
translate for thee--'We often find what we seek, when we least expect
it.' May it be so with you, my friend. Where have you been educated? and
what has been your profession?"

I thought I risked little in telling, so I replied, that I had been
brought up as a surgeon and apothecary, and had been educated at a
foundation school.

"'Tis well," replied he; "you have then commenced your studies in my
glorious profession; still, have you much to learn; years of toil, under
a great master, can only enable you to benefit mankind as I have done,
and years of hardship and of danger must be added thereunto, to afford
you the means. There are many hidden secrets. '_Ut sunt Divorum, Mars,
Bacchus, Apollo, Virorum_,'--many parts of the globe to traverse, '_Ut
Cato, Virgilius, fluviorum, ut Tibris, Orontes._' All these have I
visited, and many more. Even now do I journey to obtain more of my
invaluable medicine, gathered on the highest Andes, when the moon is in
her perigee. There I shall remain for months among the clouds, looking
down upon the great plain of Mexico, which shall appear no larger than
the head of a pin, where the voice of man is heard not. '_Vocito,
vocitas vocitavi_,' bending for months towards the earth. '_As in
presenti_,' suffering with the cold--'_frico quod fricui dat_,' as
Eusebius hath it. Soon shall I be borne away by the howling winds
towards the new world, where I can obtain more of the wonderful
medicine, which I may say never yet hath failed me, and which nothing
but love towards my race induces me to gather at such pains and risk."

"Indeed, sir," replied I, amused with his imposition, "I should like to
accompany you--for, as Josephus says most truly, '_Capiat pillulae duae
post prandium_.' Travel is, indeed, a most delightful occupation, and I
would like to run over the whole world."

"And I would like to follow you," interrupted Timothy. "I suspect we
have commenced our _grand tour_ already--three miles behind a
hackney-coach--ten on foot, and about two, I should think, in this
wagon. But as Cophagus says, _Cochlearija crash many summendush_,' which
means, 'there are ups and downs in this world.'"

"Hah!" exclaimed our companion. "He, also, has the rudiments."

"Nay, I hope I've done with the _Rudimans_," replied Timothy.

"Is he your follower?" inquired the man.

"That very much depends upon who walks first," replied Timothy, "but
whether or no--we hunt in couples."

"I understand--you are companions. '_Concordat cum nominativo numero et
persona_.' Tell me, can you roll pills, can you use the pestle and the
mortar, handle the scapula, and mix ingredients?"

I replied that of course I knew my profession.

"Well, then, as we have still some hours of night, let us now obtain
some rest. In the morning, when the sun hath introduced us to each
other, I may then judge from your countenances whether it is likely that
we may be better acquainted. Night is the time for repose, as Quintus
Curtius says, '_Custos, bos, fur atque sacerdos_. Sleep was made for
all--my friends, good-night."

Chapter IX

In which the adventures in the wagon are continued, and we become
more puzzled with our new companions--We leave off talking Latin,
and enter into an engagement.

Timothy and I took his advice, and were soon fast asleep. I was awakened
the next morning by feeling a hand in my trouser's pocket. I seized it,
and held it fast.

"Now just let go my hand, will you?" cried a lachrymal voice.

I jumped up--it was broad daylight, and looked at the human frame to
which the hand was an appendix. It was a very spare, awkwardly-built
form of a young man, apparently about twenty years old, but without the
least sign of manhood on his chin. His face was cadaverous, with large
goggling eyes, high cheek bones, hair long and ragged, reminding me of a
rat's nest, thin lips, and ears large almost as an elephant's. A more
woe-begone wretch in appearance I never beheld, and I continued to look
at him with surprise. He repeated his words with an idiotical
expression, "Just let go my hand, can't you?"

"What business had your hand in my pocket?" replied I, angrily.

"I was feeling for my pocket-handkerchief," replied the young man. "I
always keeps it in my breeches' pocket."

"But not in your neighbour's, I presume?"

"My neighbour's!" replied he, with a vacant stare. "Well, so it is, I
see now--I thought it was my own."

I released his hand; he immediately put it into his own pocket, and drew
out his handkerchief, if the rag deserved the appellation. "There," said
he, "I told you I put it in that pocket--I always do."

"And pray who are you?" said I, as I looked at his dress, which was a
pair of loose white Turkish trousers, and an old spangled jacket.

"Me! why, I'm the fool."

"More knave than fool, I expect," replied I, still much puzzled with his
strange appearance and dress.

"Nay, there you mistake," said the voice of last night. "He is not only
a fool by profession, but one by nature. It is a half-witted creature,
who serves me when I would attract the people. Strange in this world,
that wisdom may cry in the streets without being noticed, yet folly will
always command a crowd."

During this address I turned my eyes upon the speaker. He was an
elderly-looking person, with white hair, dressed in a suit of black,
ruffles and frill. His eyes were brilliant, but the remainder of his
face it was difficult to decipher, as it was evidently painted, and the
night's jumbling in the wagon had so smeared it, that it appeared of
almost every colour in the rainbow. On one side of him lay a large
three-cornered cocked hat, on the other, a little lump of a boy, rolled
up in the straw like a marmot, and still sound asleep. Timothy looked at
me, and when he caught my eye, burst out into a laugh.

"You laugh at my appearance, I presume," said the old man, mildly.

"I do in truth," replied Timothy. "I never saw one like you before, and
I dare say never shall again."

"That is possible; yet probably if you meet me again, you would not know
me."

"Among a hundred thousand," replied Timothy, with increased mirth.

"We shall see, perhaps," replied the quack doctor, for such the reader
must have already ascertained to be his profession; "but the wagon has
stopped, and the driver will bait his horses. If inclined to eat, now is
your time. Come, Jumbo, get up; Philotas, waken him, and follow me."

Philotas, for so was the fool styled by his master, twisted up some
straw, and stuffed the end of it into Jumbo's mouth. "Now, Jumbo will
think he has got something to eat. I always wake him that way," observed
the fool, grinning at us.

It certainly, as might be expected, did waken Jumbo, who uncoiled
himself, rubbed his eyes, stared at the tilt of the wagon, then at us,
and without saying a word, rolled himself out after the fool. Timothy
and I followed. We found the doctor bargaining for some bread and bacon,
his strange appearance exciting much amusement, and inducing the people
to let him have a better bargain than perhaps otherwise they would have
done. He gave a part of the refreshment to the boy and the fool, and
walked out of the tap-room with his own share. Timothy and I went to the
pump, and had a good refreshing wash, and then for a shilling were
permitted to make a very hearty breakfast. The wagon having remained
about an hour, the driver gave us notice of his departure; but the
doctor was no where to be found. After a little delay, the wagoner drove
off, cursing him for a _bilk_, and vowing that he'd never have any more
to do with a "lamed man." In the mean time, Timothy and I had taken our
seats in the wagon, in company with the fool, and Master Jumbo. We
commenced a conversation with the former, and soon found out, as the
doctor had asserted, that he really was an idiot, so much so, that it
was painful to converse with him. As for the latter, he had coiled
himself away to take a little more sleep. I forgot to mention, that the
boy was dressed much in the same way as the fool, in an old spangled
jacket, and dirty white trousers. For about an hour Timothy and I
conversed, remarking upon the strange disappearance of the doctor,
especially as he had given us hopes of employing us; in accepting which
offer, if ever it should be made, we had not made up our minds, when we
were interrupted with a voice crying out, "Hillo, my man, can you give a
chap a lift as far as Reading, for a shilling?"

"Ay, get up, and welcome," replied the wagoner.

The wagon did not stop, but in a moment or two the new passenger climbed
in. He was dressed in a clean smock frock, neatly worked up the front,
leather gaiters, and stout shoes; a bundle and a stick were in his hand.
He smiled as he looked round upon the company, and showed a beautiful
set of teeth. His face was dark, and sun-burnt, but very handsome, and
his eyes as black as coals, and as brilliant as gas. "Heh! player
folk--I've a notion," said he, as he sat down, looking at the doctor's
attendants, and laughing at us. "Have you come far, gentlemen?"
continued he.

"From London," was my reply.

"How do the crops look up above, for down here the turnips seem to have
failed altogether? Dry seasons won't do for turnips."

I replied that I really could not satisfy him on that point, as it was
dark when we passed.

"Very true--I had forgotten that," replied he. "However, the barleys
look well; but perhaps you don't understand farming?"

I replied in the negative, and the conversation was kept up for two or
three hours, in the course of which I mentioned the quack doctor, and
his strange departure.

"That is the fellow who cured so many people at ----," replied he; and
the conversation then turned upon his profession and mode of life, which
Timothy and I agreed must be very amusing. "We shall meet him again, I
dare say," replied the man. "Would you know him?"

"I think so, indeed," replied Timothy, laughing.

"Yes, and so you would think that you would know a guinea from a
halfpenny, if I put it into your hands," replied the man. "I do not wish
to lay a bet, and win your money; but I tell you, that I will put either
the one or the other into each of your hands, and if you hold it fast
for one minute, and shut your eyes during that time, you will not be
able to tell me which it is that you have in it."

"That I am sure I would," replied Tim; and I made the same assertion.

"Well, I was taken in that way at a fair, and lost ten shillings by the
wager; now, we'll try whether you can tell or not." He took out some
money from his pocket, which he selected without our seeing it, put a
coin into the hand of each of us, closing our fists over it, "and now,"
said he, "keep your eyes shut for a minute."

We did so, and a second or two afterwards we heard a voice which we
instantly recognised. "Nay, but it was wrong to leave me on the way side
thus, having agreed to pay the sum demanded. At my age one walketh not
without fatigue, _Excipenda tamen quaedam sunt urbium_, as Philostratus
says, meaning, 'that old limbs lose their activity, and seek the help of
a crutch.'"

"There's the doctor," cried Timothy, with his eyes still shut.

"Now open your eyes," said the man, "and tell me, before you open your
hand, what there is in it."

"A halfpenny in mine," said Tim.

"A guinea in mine," replied I.

We opened our hands, and they were _empty_.

"Where the devil is it?" exclaimed I, looking at Tim.

"And where the devil's the doctor?" replied he, looking round.

"The money is in the doctor's pocket," replied the man, smiling.

"Then where is the doctor's pocket?"

"Here," replied he, slapping his pocket, and looking significantly at
us. "I thought you were certain of knowing him again. About as certain
as you were of telling the money in your hand."

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