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Updated: May 3, 2025


The box was considerably charred and only fragments of the lettering on the lid remained intact but it was not difficult to make out what the full wording had been. . . . . enius, . . .nd jeweller, . . ed Street. "That's one of the late Mr. Multenius's boxes," affirmed Melky at once. "Daniel Multenius, Pawnbroker and Jeweller, Praed Street that's the full wording.

"Maybe I'll be walking round to Praed Street again," he said, laughing. "I've a bit of what you call property, yet." The girl nodded, and turned towards a side-walk that led across the Gardens. "All right," she said. "Don't think me inquisitive I don't like to think of of people like you being hard up: I'm not wrapped up in business as much as all that.

Praed in her most agreeable and natural moods one must revert to the novels in which the scenery and people of her own country are described.

He took the oath and faced the court with something of an air, as much as to imply that upon what he was about to say more depended than any one could conceive. Invited to tell what he knew, he told his story, obviously enjoying the telling of it. He was a tradesman in Praed Street: a dealer in second-hand clothing, to be exact; been there many years, in succession to his father.

Usually the poet declares that as for himself, he is indifferent to his financial condition. Praed speaks fairly for his brethren, when in A Ballad Teaching How Poetry Is Best Paid For, he represents their terms as very easy to meet. Even the melancholy Bowles takes on this subject, for once, a cheerful attitude, telling his visionary boy,

The third was a man whose political life has long since been forgotten, but whose name is well remembered because of his success in quite a different field Winthrop Mackworth Praed, the charming author of delightful verses, the founder of that English school of minstrelsy which sings for the drawing-room and the club-room, the feasts and the fashions, the joys and the well-ordered troubles of the West-End.

Hood, partly influenced by the need of caring for the public, partly by his pupilship to Lamb, perhaps went to further extremes both in mere fun and in mere sentiment than Praed did, but the central substance is the same in both. Yet one gift which Hood has and Praed has not remains to be noticed the gift of exquisite song writing.

Praed has nothing to show against these; but he, like Hood, was no inconsiderable prose writer, while the latter, thanks to his apprenticeship to the burin, had an extraordinary faculty of illustrating his own work with cuts, contrary to all the canons, but inimitably grotesque.

Killick, before I go further have you read in the newspapers about what's called the Praed Street Mystery?" The old gentleman shook his head. "My dear young sir!" he answered, waving his hand towards his books. "I'm not a great newspaper reader except for a bit of politics. I never read about mysteries I've wrapped myself up in antiquarian pursuits since I retired. No!

For anything we know, Levendale and Purvis with him may be safely trapped within half-a-mile of Praed Street or, as I say, they may have been quietly murdered. Of one thing I'm dead certain, anyway if you want to get at the bottom of this affair, you've got to find those two men!"

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