The Second Column of “The Times ” Of this Date, with Other Matters.
“TOMATO. Slam the door!”
“EDWARD. Come at once; poor Maria is in sad distress. Toodlekins stole!!!”
“J. B. can return to his deeply afflicted family if he likes, or remain away if he likes. The A F, one and all, will view either course with supreme indifference. Should he choose the former alternative, he is requested to be as quick as possible. If the latter, to send the key of the cellaret.”
“LOST. A little black and tan lady’s lap dog. Its real name is Pussy, but it will answer to the name of Toodlekins best. If any gentleman, living near Kensal Green or Kentish Town, should happen, perfectly accidentally of course, to have it in his possession, and would be so good as to bring it to 997, Sloane Street, I would give him a sovereign and welcome, and not a single question asked, upon my honour.”
It becomes evident to me that the dog Toodlekins, mentioned in the second advertisement, is the same dog alluded to in the fourth; unless you resort to the theory that two dogs were stolen on the same day, and that both were called Toodlekins. And you are hardly prepared to do that, I fancy. Consequently, you arrive at this, that the “Maria ” of the second advertisement, is the “little black and tan lady” of the fourth. And that, in 1854, she lived at 997, Sloane Street. Who was she? Had she made a fortune by exhibiting herself in a aravan like Mrs. Gamp’s spotted negress, and taken a house in Sloane Street, for herself, Toodlekins, and the person who advertised for Edward to come and comfort her? Again, who was Edward? Was he her l3rother? Was he something nearer and dearer? Was he enamoured of her person or her property? I fear the latter. Who could tndy love a little black and tan lady?
Again. The wording of her advertisement gives rise to this train of thought. Two persons must always be concerned in stealing a dog — the person who steals the dog, and the person who has the dog stolen; because, if the dog did not belong to any one, it is evident that no one could steal it. To put it more scientifically, there must be an active and a passive agent. Now, I’ll bet a dirty old dishcloth against the New York Herald, which is pretty even betting, that our little black and tan friend, Maria, had been passive agent in a dog — stealing case more than once before this, or why does she mention these two localities? But we must get on to the other advertisements.
“LOST. A large white bulldog, very red about the eyes; desperately savage. Answers to the name of ‘Billy.’ The advertiser begs that any person finding him will be very careful not to irritate him. The best way of securing him is to make him pin another dog, and then tie his four legs together and muzzie him. Any one bringing him to the Coach and Horses, St. Martin’s Lane, will be rewarded.”
He seems to have been found the same day, and by some one who was a bit of a wag; for the very next advertisement nms thus:
“FOUND. A large white bulldog, very red about the eyes; desperately savage. The owner can have him at once, by applying to Queen’s Mew’s, Belgrave Street, and paying the price of the advertisement and the cost of a new pad groom, aged 18, as the dog has bitten one so severely about the knee that it is necessary to sell him at once to drive a cab.”
“LOST. Somewhere between Mile-end Road and Putney Bridge, an old leathern piu-se, containing a counterfeit sixpence, a lock of hair in a paper, and a twenty-pound note. Any one bringing the note to 267, Tylney Street, Mayfair, may keep the purse and the rest of its contents for their trouble.”
This was a very shabby advertisement. The next, though coming from an attorney’s office, is much more munificent. It quite makes one’s mouth water, and envy the lucky fellow who would answer it.
“ONE HUNDRED GUINEAS REWARD. Register wanted.
To parish clerks. Any person who can discover the register of marriage between Petre Ravenshoe, Esq. of Ravenshoe, in the county of Devon, and Maria Dawson, which is supposed to have been solemnised in............