Little Britain has its long
catalogue[1] of city wonders, which its inhabitants consider the wonders of the world: such as the great bell of St. Paul's, which sours all the beer when it tolls; the figures that
strike the hours at St. Dunstan's clock; the Monument; the lions in the Tower; and the wooden giants in Guildhall. They still believe in dreams and fortune-telling, and an old woman that lives in Bull-and-Mouth Street makes a
tolerable[2] subsistence by detecting stolen goods, and promising the girls good husbands. They are
apt[3] to be rendered uncomfortable by comets and eclipses; and if a dog howls
dolefully[4] at night,
it is looked upon[5] as a sure sign of a death in the place. There are even many ghost stories current, particularly concerning the old mansion-houses; in several of which it is said strange
sights are sometimes seen[6]. Lords and ladies, the former in full bottomed wigs, hanging sleeves, and swords, the latter in
lappets[7], stays, hoops and brocade,
have been seen[8] walking up and down the great waste chambers, on moonlight nights; and are supposed to be the shades of the ancient proprietors in their court-dresses.
Little Britain has likewise its sages and great men. One of the most important of the former is a tall, dry old gentleman, of the name of Skryme, who keeps a small apothecary's shop. He has a
cadaverous[9] countenance[10], full of cavities and projections; with a brown circle round each eye, like a pair of horned
spectacles[11]. He is
much thought[12] of by the old women, who consider him a kind of conjurer, because he has two of three stuffed alligators hanging up in his shop, and several snakes in bottles. He is a
great reader[13] of almanacs and newspapers, and is much given to pore over alarming accounts of
plots[14], conspiracies, fires, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions; which last phenomena he considers as signs of the times. He has always some dismal tale of the kind to deal out to his customers, with their doses; and thus at the same time puts both soul and body into an uproar. He is a great believer in omens and predictions; and
has the prophecies of Robert Nixon and Mother Shipton
by heart[15]. No man can make so much out of an eclipse, or even an unusually dark day; and he shook the tail of the last comet over the heads of his customers and disciples until they were nearly frightened out of their wits. He has lately
got hold[16] of a popular legend or prophecy,
on which[17] he has been unusually eloquent. There has been a saying current among the ancient sibyls, who treasure up these things, that when the grasshopper on the top of the Exchange shook hands with the dragon on the top of Bow Church Steeple, fearful events would take place. This strange conjunction, it seems, has as strangely come to pass. The same architect has been engaged lately on the repairs of the cupola of the Exchange, and the steeple of Bow church; and, fearful to relate, the dragon and the grasshopper actually lie, cheek by
jole[18], in the
yard of his workshop[19].
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Lexical
Syntax
Function
words
Semantic
Morphological
spelling
[1] catalogue vs. catalog
[17] Jole vs. jowl
false hits
[15] Has…by heart = memorized. Only one usage.
