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SO I went to London Bridge； and again took my station on the spot
by the booth where I had stood on the former occasion。 The booth；
however； was empty； neither the apple…woman nor her stall was to be
seen。 I looked over the balustrade upon the river； the tide was
now； as before； rolling beneath the arch with frightful
impetuosity。 As I gazed upon the eddies of the whirlpool； I
thought within myself how soon human life would become extinct
there； a plunge； a convulsive flounder； and all would be over。
When I last stood over that abyss I had felt a kind of impulse … a
fascination； I had resisted it … I did not plunge into it。 At
present I felt a kind of impulse to plunge； but the impulse was of
a different kind； it proceeded from a loathing of life； I looked
wistfully at the eddies … what had I to live for？ … what； indeed！
I thought of Brandt and Struensee； and Yeoman Patch … should I
yield to the impulse … why not？ My eyes were fixed on the eddies。
All of a sudden I shuddered； I thought I saw heads in the pool；
human bodies wallowing confusedly； eyes turned up to heaven with
hopeless horror； was that water or … ？ Where was the impulse now？
I raised my eyes from the pool； I looked no more upon it … I looked
forward； far down the stream in the far distance。 'Ha！ what is
that？ I thought I saw a kind of Fata Morgana； green meadows；
waving groves； a rustic home； but in the far distance … I stared …
I stared … a Fata Morgana … it was gone。 。 。 。〃
I left the balustrade and walked to the farther end of the bridge；
where I stood for some time contemplating the crowd； I then passed
over to the other side with an intention of returning home； just
half…way over the bridge； in a booth immediately opposite to the
one in which I had formerly beheld her； sat my friend； the old
apple…woman； huddled up behind her stall。
'Well； mother；' said I； 'how are you？' The old woman lifted her
head with a startled look。
'Don't you know me？' said I。
'Yes； I think I do。 Ah； yes；' said she； as her features beamed
with recollection； 'I know you； dear； you are the young lad that
gave me the tanner。 Well； child； got anything to sell？'
'Nothing at all；' said I。
'Bad luck？'
'Yes；' said I； 'bad enough； and ill usage。'
'Ah； I suppose they caught ye； well； child； never mind； better luck
next time； I am glad to see you。'
'Thank you；' said I； sitting down on the stone bench； 'I thought
you had left the bridge … why have you changed your side？'
The old woman shook。
'What is the matter with you；' said I； 'are you ill？'
'No； child； no； only … '
'Only what？ Any bad news of your son？'
'No； child； no； nothing about my son。 Only low； child … every
heart has its bitters。'
'That's true；' said I； 'well； I don't want to know your sorrows；
come； where's the book？'
The apple…woman shook more violently than before； bent herself
down； and drew her cloak more closely about her than before。
'Book； child； what book？'
'Why； blessed Mary； to be sure。'
'Oh； that； I ha'n't got it； child … I have lost it； have left it at
home。'
'Lost it；' said I； 'left it at home … what do you mean？ Come； let
me have it。'
'I ha'n't got it； child。'
'I believe you have got it under your cloak。'
'Don't tell any one； dear； don't … don't；' and the apple…woman
burst into tears。
'What's the matter with you？' said I； staring at her。
'You want to take my book from me？'
'Not I； I care nothing about it； keep it； if you like； only tell me
what's the matter？'
'Why； all about that book。'
'The book？'
'Yes； they wanted to take it from me。'
'Who did？'
'Why； some wicked boys。 I'll tell you all about it。 Eight or ten
days ago； I sat behind my stall； reading my book； all of a sudden I
felt it snatched from my hand； up I started； and see three rascals
of boys grinning at me； one of them held the book in his hand。
〃What book is this？〃 said he； grinning at it。 〃What do you want
with my book？〃 said I； clutching at it over my stall； 〃give me my
book。〃 〃What do you want a book for？〃 said he； holding it back； 〃I
have a good mind to fling it into the Thames。〃 〃Give me my book；〃
I shrieked； and； snatching at it； I fell over my stall； and all my
fruit was scattered about。 Off ran the boys … off ran the rascal
with my book。 Oh dear； I thought I should have died； up I got；
however； and ran after them as well as I could； I thought of my
fruit； but I thought more of my book。 I left my fruit and ran
after my book。 〃My book！ my book！〃 I shrieked； 〃murder！ theft！
robbery！〃 I was near being crushed under the wheels of a cart； but
I didn't care … I followed the rascals。 〃Stop them！ stop them！〃 I
ran nearly as fast as they … they couldn't run very fast on account
of the crowd。 At last some one stopped the rascal； whereupon he
turned round； and flinging the book at me； it fell into the mud；
well； I picked it up and kissed it； all muddy as it was。 〃Has he
robbed you？〃 said the man。 〃Robbed me； indeed； why he had got my
book。〃 〃Oh； your book；〃 said the man； and laughed； and let the
rascal go。 Ah； he might laugh； but … '
'Well； go on。'
'My heart beats so。 Well； I went back to my booth and picked up my
stall and my fruits； what I could find of them。 I couldn't keep my
stall for two days I got such a fright； and when I got round I
couldn't bide the booth where the thing had happened； so I came
over to the other side。 Oh； the rascals； if I could but see them
hanged。'
'For what？'
'Why； for stealing my book。'
'I thought you didn't dislike stealing； … that you were ready to
buy things … there was your son； you know … '
'Yes； to be sure。'
'He took things。'
'To be sure he did。'
'But you don't like a thing of yours to be taken。'
'No； that's quite a different thing； what's stealing handkerchiefs；
and that kind of thing； to do with taking my book？ there's a wide
difference … don't you see？'
'Yes； I see。'
'Do you； dear？ well； bless your heart； I'm glad you do。 Would you
like to look at the book？'
'Well； I think I should。'
'Honour bright？' said the apple…woman； looking me in the eyes。
'Honour bright；' said I； looking the apple…woman in the eyes。
'Well then； dear； here it is；' said she； taking it from under her
cloak； 'read it as long as you like； only get a little farther into
the booth … Don't sit so near the edge … you might … '
I went deep into the booth； and the apple…woman； bringing her chair
round； almost confronted me。 I commenced reading the book； and was
soon engrossed by it； hours passed away； once or twice I lifted up
my eyes； the apple…woman was still confronting me： at last my eyes
began to ache； whereupon I returned the book to the apple…woman；
and； giving her another tanner； walked away。
CHAPTER XLI
Decease of the Review … Homer himself … Bread and cheese … Finger
and thumb … Impossible to find … Something grand … Universal
mixture … Some other publisher。
TIME passed away； and with it the Review； which； contrary to the
publisher's expectation； did not prove a successful speculation。
About four months after the period of its birth it expired； as all
Reviews must for which there is no demand。 Authors had ceased to
send their publications to it； and； consequently； to purchase it；
for I have already hinted that it was almost entirely supported by
authors of a particular class； who expected to see their
publications foredoomed to immortality in its pages。 The behaviour
of these authors towards this unfortunate publication I can
attribute to no other cause than to a report which was
industriously circulated； namely； that the Review was low； and that
to be reviewed in it was an infallible sign that one was a low
person； who could be reviewed nowhere else。 So authors took
fright； and no wonder； for it will never do for an author to be
considered low。 Homer himself has never yet entirely recovered
from the injury he received by Lord Chesterfield's remark that the
speeches of his heroes were frequently exceedingly low。
So the Review ceased； and the reviewing corps no longer existed as
such； they forthwith returned to their proper avocations … the
editor to compose tunes on his piano； and to the task of disposing
of the remaining copies of his Quintilian … the inferior members to
working for the publisher； being to a man dependants of his； one；
to composing fairy tales； another； to collecting miracles of Popish
saints； and a third； Newgate lives and trials。 Owing to the bad
success of the Review； the publisher became more furious than ever。
My money was growing short； and I one day asked him to pay me for
my labours in the deceased public