Old Saint Paul\'s A Tale of the Plague and the Fire
THE GROCER OF WOOD-STREET AND HIS FAMILY. One night, at the latter end of April, 1665, the family of a citizen of London carrying on an extensive business as a grocer in Wood-street, Cheapside, were assembled, according to custom, at prayer. The grocer's name was Stephen Bloundel. His family consisted of his wife, three sons, and two daughters. He had, moreover, an apprentice; an elderly female serving as cook; her son, a young man about five-and-twenty, filling the place of porter to the shop and general assistant; and a kitchen-maid. The whole household attended; for the worthy grocer, being a strict observer of his religious duties, as well as a rigid disciplinarian in other respects, suffered no one to be absent, on any plea whatever, except indisposition, from morning and evening devotions; and these were always performed at stated times. In fact, the establishment was conducted with the regularity of clockwork, it being the aim of its master not to pass a single hour of the day unprofitably. The ordinary prayers gone through, Stephen Bloundel offered up along and fervent supplication to the Most High for protection against the devouring pestilence with which the city was then scourged. He acknowledged that this terrible visitation had been justly brought upon
"But he is tearing my trousers," expostulated Mr. Green, who was by
no means partial to the "play" of a thoroughbred terrier.
"Ah! he's an uncommon sensible dog," observed his master; "he's
always on the look-out for rats everywhere. It's the Wellington
boots that does it; he's accustomed to have a rat put into a boot,
and he worries it out how he can. I daresay he thinks you've got one
in yours."
"But I've got nothing of the sort, sir; I must request you to keep
your dog--" A violent fit of coughing, caused by a well-directed
volley of smoke from his neighbour's lips, put a stop to Mr. Green's
expostulations.
"I hope my weed is no annoyance?" said the gentleman; "if it is, I
will throw it away."
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 27]
To which piece of politeness Mr. Green could, of course, only reply,
between fits of coughing, "Not in the least I - assure you, - I am
very fond - of tobacco - in the open air."
"Then I daresay you'll do as we are doing, and smoke a weed
THE GROCER OF WOOD-STREET AND HIS FAMILY. One night, at the latter end of April, 1665, the family of a citizen of London carrying on an extensive business as a grocer in Wood-street, Cheapside, were assembled, according to custom, at prayer. The grocer's name was Stephen Bloundel. His family consisted of his wife, three sons, and two daughters. He had, moreover, an apprentice; an elderly female serving as cook; her son, a young man about five-and-twenty, filling the place of porter to the shop and general assistant; and a kitchen-maid. The whole household attended; for the worthy grocer, being a strict observer of his religious duties, as well as a rigid disciplinarian in other respects, suffered no one to be absent, on any plea whatever, except indisposition, from morning and evening devotions; and these were always performed at stated times. In fact, the establishment was conducted with the regularity of clockwork, it being the aim of its master not to pass a single hour of the day unprofitably. The ordinary prayers gone through, Stephen Bloundel offered up along and fervent supplication to the Most High for protection against the devouring pestilence with which the city was then scourged. He acknowledged that this terrible visitation had been justly brought upon