Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 427 | Page 2

himself led off the
harmony, to the tune of _Tally-ho_, at the top of his voice. It was all of
no avail. The half-dozen grooms who joined in feeble chorus did not
pay the expense of the gas; and he found the Free-and-easy, without
abettors, the most difficult thing in the world. So he gave it up, and fell

into a brown study, which engrossed him for a month. He had visions
of Whitecross Street before his eyes; and poor Mrs Bowley sighed
again, and sighed in vain, after the remembrance of Sir Plumberry's
kitchen, and its vanished joys. The only symptom of business was the
gathering of half-a-dozen nightly customers, who sipped their grog for
an hour or two in the parlour; and one of these, moreover, had never
paid a farthing since he had patronised the house. There were twenty
grogs scored up against him, besides a double column of beers. Mr
Bowley will put an end to that, at anyrate; so he signals the bibulous
debtor, and having got him within the folds of the crimson curtains, he
politely informs him, that credit is no part of his system of doing
business, and requests payment. Mr Nogoe, the convivial defaulter,
who is a gentleman of fifty, who has seen the world, and knows how to
manage it, is decidedly of Bowley's opinion--that, as a general rule,
credit is a bad plan; inasmuch as, so far as his experience goes in the
public line, to afford it to your customers, is the first step towards
losing it yourself. But he feels himself free to confess, that he is at the
present moment under a cloud, and that it would be inconvenient to
him to liquidate his score just then, though, of course, if Bowley insists,
&c. While Bowley is pausing to consider which will be the best way to
insist, Mr Nogoe carelessly leads the conversation to another topic, and
begins to descant upon the marvellous capabilities of the 'Mother
Bunch' for doing a first-rate trade; and hints mysteriously at the
splendid thing that might be made of it, only supposing that his friend
Bowley knew his own interest, and went the right way to work. The
landlord, who is now all ear, and who knows his own interest well
enough, pours out to his guest a glass of his favourite 'cold without,'
and seating himself opposite him at the little table, encourages him to
be more explicit. A long private and confidential conversation ensues,
the results of which are destined to change the aspect of affairs at the
'Mother Bunch.' We shall recount the process for the information of our
readers.
Next morning, Mr Bowley is altogether a new man; brisk, cheerful, and
active, he has a smile for everybody, and a joke and a 'good-morning'
even for the cobbler, who has the cure of soles in that very questionable
benefice, the Mews. He visits his tap-room guests, and informs them of

a plan which is in operation to improve the condition of the
labouring-classes, of which they will hear more by and by. He is
profoundly impressed with the sublime virtues of charity, benevolence,
brotherly love, and, as he terms it, all that sort of thing. Day after day,
he is seen in close confab with Mr Nogoe, who is now as busy as a bee,
buzzing about here, there, and everywhere, with rolls of paper in his
hand, a pen behind his ear, and another in his mouth, and who is never
absent an hour together from the 'Mother Bunch,' where he has a
private room much frequented by active, middle-aged persons of a
rather seedy cast, and where he takes all his meals at the landlord's
table. The first-fruits of these mysterious operations at length appear in
the form of a prospectus of a new mutual-assurance society, under the
designation of 'The Charitable Chums' Benefit Club;' of which Mr
Nogoe, who has undertaken its organisation, is to act as secretary and
chairman at the preliminary meetings, and to lend his valuable
assistance in getting the society into working order. Under his direction,
tens of thousands of the prospectuses are printed, and industriously
circulated among the artisans, labourers, small tradesmen, and
serving-men in all parts of the town, both far and near. Promises of
unheard-of advantages, couched in language of most affectionate
sympathy, are addressed to all whom it may concern. The same are
repeated again and again in the daily and weekly papers. A public
meeting is called, and the names of intending members are enrolled;
special meetings follow, held at the large room of the 'Mother Bunch;'
the enrolled members are summoned; officers and functionaries are
balloted for and appointed; rules and regulations are drawn up,
considered, adopted, certified, and printed. Mr Nogoe is confirmed