Mr. Joseph Hanson, The Haberdasher | Page 6

You would not give your own sweet Harriet, the best and prettiest
girl in the county, to an adventurer, the history of whose life is to be
found in the Gazette and the Insolvent Court, and who is a high
churchman and a tory to boot. Surely you would not fling away your
daughter and your honest earnings upon a man of notorious bad
character, with whom you have not an opinion or a prejudice in
common? Just think what the other party will say!"
"I'll tell you what, Mr. Mallet or Mr. Mayor, if you prefer the sound of
your new dignity," broke out John Parsons, in a fury, "I shall do what I
like with my money and my daughter, without consulting you, or
caring what anybody may chance to say, whether whig or tory. For my
part, I think there's little to choose between them. One side's as bad as
the other. Tyrants in office and patriots out. If Hanson is a conservative
and a churchman, his foreman is a radical and a dissenter; and they
neither of them pretend to dictate to their betters, which is more than I
can say of some who call themselves reformers. Once for all, I tell you
that he shall marry my Harriet, and that your nephew sha'n't: so now
you may arrest him as soon as you like. I'm not to be managed here,
however you and your tools may carry matters at the Town Hall. An
Englishman's house is his castle."
"Well," said Mr. Mallet, "I am going. God knows I came out of old
friendship towards yourself, and sincere affection for the dear girl your
daughter. As to my nephew, besides that I firmly believe the young
people like each other, I know him to be as steady a lad as ever drew a
conveyance; and with what his father has left him, and what I can give
him, to say nothing of his professional prospects, he would be a fit
match for Harriet as far as money goes. But if you are determined----"

"I am determined," roared John Parsons. "Before next week is out,
Joseph Hanson shall be my son-in-law. And now, sir, I advise you to go
and drill your police." And the tinman retired from behind the counter
into the interior of his dwelling, (for this colloquy had taken place in
the shop,) banging the door behind him with a violence that really
shook the house.
"Poor pretty Harriet!" thought the compassionate chief magistrate, "and
poor Frederick too! The end of next week! This is only Monday;
something may turn up in that time; we must make inquiries; I had
feared that it would have been earlier. My old tetchy friend here is just
the man to have arranged the marriage one day, and had the ceremony
performed the next. We must look about us." And full of such
cogitations, the mayor returned to his habitation.
On the Thursday week after this conversation a coach drew up, about
eight o'clock in the morning, at the gate of St Stephen's churchyard, and
Mr. Joseph Hanson, in all the gloss of bridal finery, newly clad from
top to toe, smiling and smirking at every instant, jumped down,
followed by John Parsons, and prepared to hand out his reluctant bride
elect, when Mr. Mallet, with a showy-looking middle-aged woman (a
sort of feminine of Joseph himself) hanging upon his arm, accosted our
friend the tinman.
"Stop!" cried the mayor.
"What for?" inquired John Parsons. "If it's a debt, I've already told you
that I'll be his bail."
"It is a debt," responded the chief magistrate; "and one that luckily he
must pay, and not you. Three years ago he married this lady at
Liverpool We have the certificate and all the documents."
"Yes, sir," added the injured fair one; "and I find that he has another
wife in Dublin, and a third at Manchester. I have heard, too, that he ran
away with a young lady to Scotland; but that don't count, as he was
under age."

"Four wives!" ejaculated John Parsons, in a transport of astonishment
and indignation. "Why the man is an absolute great Turk! But the
thing's impossible. Come and answer for yourself, Joseph Hanson."
And the tinman turned to look for his intended son-in-law; but
frightened at the sight of the fair claimant of his hand and person, the
bridegroom had absconded, and John Parsons and the mayor had
nothing for it but to rejoin the pretty Harriet, smiling through her tears
as she sate with her bride-maiden in the coach at the churchyard-gate.
"Well; it's a great escape! and we're for ever obliged to you, Mr. Mayor.
Don't cry any more, Harriet. If Frederick was but here, why, in spite of
the policemen---- but