ze beef melted away from very richness before my eyes; and in the midst
of all the bustle and jollity, the crowding, laughing, drinking, and
shouting, I was still on my unvarying way to Whitecross-street.

There was a man resting a child's coffin on a railing, and chattering with
a pot-boy, with whom he shared a pot of porter "with the sharp edge taken
off." There are heavy hearts--heavier perchance than yours, in London, this
Christmas Eve, my friend Prupper, thought I. To-morrow's dawn will bring
sorrow and faint-heartedness to many thousands--to oceans of humanity, of
which you are but a single drop.

The cab had conveyed me through Smithfield Market, and now rumbled up
Barbican. My companion, the gentleman with the crab-stick (to whose care
Mr. Aminadab had consigned me), beguiled the time with pleasant and
instructive conversation. He told me that he had "nabbed a many parties."
That he had captured a Doctor of Divinity going to a Christmas, a
bridegroom starting for the honeymoon, a colonel of hussars in full fig
for her Majesty's drawing-room. That he had the honor once of "nabbing"
the eldest son of a peer of the realm, who, however, escaped from him
through a second-floor window, and over the tiles. That he was once
commissioned to "nab" the celebrated Mr. Wix, of the Theatres Royal. That
Mr. Wix, being in the act of playing the Baron Spolaccio, in the famous
tragedy of "Love, Ruin, and Revenge," he, Crabstick, permitted him, in
deference to the interests of the drama, to play the part out, stationing
an assistant at each wing to prevent escape. That the delusive Wix
"bilked" him, by going down a trap. That he, Crabstick, captured him,
notwithstanding under the stage, though opposed by the gigantic Wix
himself, two stage carpenters, a demon, and the Third Citizen. That Wix
rushed on the stage, and explained his position to the audience, whereupon
the gallery (Wix being an especial favorite of theirs) expressed a strong
desire to have his (Crabstick's) blood; and, failing to obtain that, tore
up the benches; in the midst of which operation the recalcitrant Wix was
removed. With these and similar anecdotes of the nobility, gentry, and the
public in general, he was kind enough to regale me, until the cab stopped.
I alighted in a narrow, dirty street; was hurried up a steep flight of
steps; a heavy door clanged behind me; and Crabstick, pocketing his small
gratuity, wished me a good-night and a merry Christmas. A me