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He was ed. at private schools, and as a private pupil of the Rev. R. Gutch, whose dau. he afterwards m. In 1841 he was elected to a scholarship at Oxf. He had inherited an income sufficient to make him independent of a profession, and a prepossession in favour of the celibacy of the clergy disinclined him to enter the Church, of which he had at one time thought.
Why, five pounds would have been ample, to have informed every inhabitant of the city of it. But here, however, is 52l. 18s. paid to one corrupt knave of an editor, merely for calling a meeting! No wonder these caitiff editors are such time-serving tools, when they can get so profusely paid for their mercenary loyalty. This is a pretty bill of goggle-eyed Gutch, and for a pretty purpose too.
Our society was denounced as seditious, revolutionary, and treasonable, by the corrupt newspapermongers of that city; at the head of whom stood a man of the name of GUTCH, who was the editor of the paper called Felix Farley's Bristol Journal. This was as corrupt and time-serving a political knave as ever lived.
I went up to the station with her, and she told me then before she got in the train that Maitland had all her fortune and her savings, and her sister's, his wife's, too, and that she feared all would be lost." "Mrs. Maitland was then dead," observed Spargo without looking up from his writing-block. "She was, young man, and a good thing, too," continued Mrs. Gutch.
"West End again!" says that Gus Hoskins; and accordingly down I went, taking a place in a cab which Roundhand hired for himself, Gutch, and me, and for which he very generously paid eight shillings.
And so there's so much of the secret, gentlemen, and I would like to know if I ain't giving good value." "Very good," said the proprietor. "Go on." But Spargo intervened. "Did you ever hear the name of the gentleman who took the boy away?" he asked. "Yes, I did," replied Mrs. Gutch. "Of course I did. Which it was Elphick."
Mother Gutch began to smooth out a pleat in her gown.
At last Mother Gutch spoke. "Well, young man," she said, "having considered matters, and having a right to look well to myself, I think that what I should prefer to have would be one of those annuities. A nice, comfortable annuity, paid weekly none of your monthlies or quarterlies, but regular and punctual, every Saturday morning.
Spargo dropped his pen on the desk before him with a sharp clatter that made Mrs. Gutch jump. A steady devotion to the bottle had made her nerves to be none of the strongest, and she looked at the startler of them with angry malevolence. "Don't do that again, young man!" she exclaimed sharply. "I can't a-bear to be jumped out of my skin, and it's bad manners.
Spargo looked at the editor and the proprietor, nodding his head slightly. He meant them to understand that he had got all he wanted from Mother Gutch. "What are you going to do, Mrs. Gutch, when you leave here?" he asked. "You shall be driven straight back to Bayswater, if you like." "Which I shall be obliged for, young man," said Mrs.
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