ul, and
active, he has a smile for everybody, and a joke and a 'good-morning'
even for the cobbler, who has the cure of soles in that very
questionable benefice, the Mews. He visits his tap-room guests, and
informs them of a plan which is in operation to improve the condition of
the labouring-classes, of which they will hear more by and by. He is
profoundly impressed with the sublime virtues of charity, benevolence,
brotherly love, and, as he terms it, all that sort of thing. Day after
day, he is seen in close confab with Mr Nogoe, who is now as busy as a
bee, buzzing about here, there, and everywhere, with rolls of paper in
his hand, a pen behind his ear, and another in his mouth, and who is
never absent an hour together from the 'Mother Bunch,' where he has a
private room much frequented by active, middle-aged persons of a rather
seedy cast, and where he takes all his meals at the landlord's table.
The first-fruits of these mysterious operations at length appear in the
form of a prospectus of a new mutual-assurance society, under the
designation of 'The Charitable Chums' Benefit Club;' of which Mr Nogoe,
who has undertaken its organisation, is to act as secretary and chairman
at the preliminary meetings, and to lend his valuable assistance in
getting the society into working order. Under his direction, tens of
thousands of the prospectuses are printed, and industriously circulated
among the artisans, labourers, small tradesmen, and serving-men in all
parts of the town, both far and near. Promises of unheard-of advantages,
couched in language of most affectionate sympathy, are addressed to all
whom it may concern. The same are repeated again and again in the daily
and weekly papers. A public meeting is called, and the names of
intending members are enrolled; special meetings follow, held at the
large room of the 'Mother Bunch;' the enrolled members are summoned;
officers and functionaries are balloted for and appointed; rules and
regulations are drawn up, considered, adopted, certified, and printed.
Mr Nogoe is confirmed in his double function as secretary and treasurer.
Subscriptions flow in; and, to Bowley's infinite gratification, beer and
spirits begin to flow out. The Charitable Chums, though eminently
provident, are as bibulous as they are benevolent; for every sixpence
they invest for the contingencies of the future tense, they imbibe at
least half-a-crown for the exigencies of the present. The society soon
rises