hearing this conversation, Tallyho could not help inquiring into the particulars.
“Why the facts are simply as follows,” continued
1 Spree—A bit of fun, or a frolicsome lark.
Sparkle—“in London, as you perceive, tradesmen are in the habit of exhibiting signs of the business or profession in which they are engaged. The Pawnbroker decorates his door with three gold balls—the Barber, in some places, (though it is a practice almost out of date) hangs out a long pole—the Gold-beater, an arm with a hammer in the act of striking—the Chemist, a head of Glauber, or Esculapius—the Tobacconist, a roll of tobacco, and of late it has become customary for these venders of pulverised atoms called snuff, to station a wooden figure of a Highlander, in the act of taking a pinch of Hardham's, or High-dried, as a sort of inviting introduction to their counters; and a few nights back, a Scotchman, returning from his enjoyments at a neighbouring tavern, stopped to have a little friendly chat with this gentleman's Highlander, and by some means or other, I suppose, a quarrel ensued, upon which the animated young Scotchman took advantage of his countryman—floored him, broke both his arms, and otherwise did him considerable bodily injury, the effects of which are still visible; and Johnny Bull, who is fond of a little gape-seed, is endeavouring to console him under his sufferings.”
“Very kind of him, indeed,” replied Bob.
“At any rate,” said Tom, “the Tobacconist will have occasion to be grateful to the Highlander{1} for some portion of his popularity.”
1 It is matter of astonishment to some, but not less true,
that many tradesmen in the Metropolis have to ascribe both
fame and fortune to adventitious circumstances. It is said
that Hardham, of Fleet Street, had to thank the celebrated
Comedian, Foote, who, in one of his popular characters,
introducing his snuffbox, offered a pinch to the person he
was in conversation with on the stage, who spoke well of it,
and inquired where he obtained it?—“Why, at Hardham's, to
be sure.” And to this apparently trifling circumstance,
Hardham was indebted for his fortune.
The importance of a Highlander to a snuff-shop will appear
by a perusal of the following fact:—
A very respectable young man, a Clerk in the office of an
eminent Solicitor, was recently brought before Mr. Alderman
Atkins, upon the charge of being disorderly. The prisoner,
it seemed, on his return home from a social party, where he
had been sacrificing rather too freely to the jolly god, was
struck with the appearance of a showy wooden figure of a
Highlander, at the door of Mr. Micklan's snuff-shop, No. 12,
Fleet Street. The young Attorney, who is himself a
Scotchman, must needs claim acquaintance with his
countryman. He chucked him familiarly under the chin, called
him a very pretty fellow, and, in the vehemence of his
affection, embraced him with so much violence, as to force
him from his station. Mr. Micklan ran to the assistance of
his servant, and in the scuffle the unfortunate Highlander
had both his arms dislocated, the frill that adorned his
neck damaged, besides other personal injuries, which his
living countryman not being in the humour to atone for, Mr.
Micklau gave him in charge to the watchman. Before the
Magistrate in the morning, the young man appeared heartily
sick of his folly, and perfectly willing to make every
reparation, but complained of the excessive demand, which he
stated to be no less than thirteen guineas. Mr. Micklan
produced the remains of the unfortunate Highlander, who
excited a compound fracture of both arms, with a mutilation
of three or four fingers, and such other bodily wounds, as
to render his perfect recovery, so as to resume his
functions at Mr. Micklan's door, altogether hopeless. The
Highlander, the complainant stated, cost him thirteen
guineas, and was entirely new. The sum might seem large for
the young gentleman to pay for such a frolic, but it would
not compensate him for the injury he should sustain by the
absence of the figure; for, however strange it might appear,
he did not hesitate to say, that without it he should not
have more than half his business. Since he had stationed it
at his door, he had taken on an average thirty shillings a
day more than he had done previous to exhibiting his
attractions.
There being no proof of a breach of the peace, Mr. Alderman
Atkins advised the gentleman to settle the matter upon the
best terms he could. They withdrew together, and on their
return the complainant reported that the gentleman had
agreed to take the figure, and furnish him with a new one.
Mr. Alderman Atkins, in discharging the prisoner,
recommended to him to get the figure repaired, and make a
niche for him in his office, where, by using it as a proper
memorial, it would probably save him more than it cost him.
The broken figure has since been exhibited in his old
station, and excited considerable notice; but we apprehend
he is not yet able to afford all the attractions of his
occupation, for he has formerly been seen inviting his
friends to a pinch of snuff gratis, by holding a box
actually containing that recreating powder in his hand, in
the most obliging and condescending manner—a mark
