The Sorcery Club - Part 34
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Part 34

STARLING.--On July 27, at No. ---- Snargate Street, Dover, Susan, highly esteemed and greatly beloved mother of Alfred Starling, Wesleyan Minister, in her 71st year. Lost in the harbour. Asleep in Jesus.

TRETICKLER.--On July 27, at No. ---- The Terrace, St. Ives, Cornwall, Elizabeth, adored grandmother of Tobias Tretickler, Congregationalist, in her 91st year. Fell over the Malatoff. "Oh, Paradise! Oh, Paradise!"

BROOT.--On July 27, at Charlton House, Queen's Gate, S.W., Jane, greatly beloved mother of John Broot, Labour M.P., in her 83rd year. Fell down the area. Peace, blessed Peace.

GUM.--On July 27, at No. ---- Church Road, Upper Norwood, Sophia, widow of the late Albert Gum, L.C.C., in her 85th year. Choked whilst eating tripe. Sadly missed!

PAVEMAN.--On July 27, at No. ---- Queen's Road, Clifton, Bristol, Anne Rebecca, dearly beloved mother of Alfred Paveman, grocer, in her 74th year. Accidentally burned to death! At rest at last.

But it must not be supposed from these few notices, selected from at least a hundred, that the applicants for spells were by any means confined to the upper and middle cla.s.ses. By far the greater number of spells were sold to the working people--to those of them who, prudent and respectable, counted amongst their aged relatives, at least, one or two who were insured.

Nor was the sale of spells confined to adults; for among the numbers, that flocked to consult the trio, were countless County Council children.

"Can you give me a spell to make teacher break her neck?" was the most common request, though it was frequently varied with demands such as--

"I'll trouble you for a spell to pay mother out. She won't put more than three lumps of sugar in my tea;"--or, "Mother has got very teazy lately. I want a spell to make her fall downstairs"--or, "Father only gives me twopence a week out of what I earn blacking boots; give me a spell to make him have an accident whilst he's at work." And it was not seldom that the trio were pet.i.tioned thus: "Please give us a spell to make our parents die quickly. Teacher says at school 'perfect freedom is the birthright of all Englishmen,' and we can't have perfect freedom whilst our parents are alive."[22]

The statistics of those who died from the effects of accidents for the week ending August 1, of this year, in London alone, were--over sixty years of age, five thousand; between the ages of twenty-five and sixty, six thousand; and, for the latter deaths, children alone were responsible.

The greatest number of these accidents occurred in Poplar, West Ham, Battersea, and Whitechapel; and at length the working cla.s.s applicants became so numerous that the Modern Sorcery Company could not cope with them, and were forced to raise their charges.

Among other customers, as one might expect, were many militant Suffragettes; whom Hamar and Curtis palmed off on Kelson.

"Give me a spell," demanded a hatchet-faced lady, wearing a half-up-to-the-knee skirt, "one that will cause the roof of the House of Commons to fall in and smash everybody--EVERYBODY. This is no time for half-measures."

Had she been pretty, it is just possible Kelson might have a.s.sented, but he had no sympathy with the ugly--they set his teeth on edge--he loathed them.

"Certainly, madam, certainly," he said, "here is a spell that will have the effect you desire," and he handed her a ring containing a magnes microcosmi fully charged with the essence of life of an idiot.

"Wear it," he said, "night and day. Never be without it."

She joyfully obeyed, and within forty-eight hours was lodged in a home for incurables.

Another woman, if possible even uglier than the last, approached him with a similar request.

"Let me have a spell at once," she said, "that will make every member of the Government be run over by taxis--and killed. They are monsters, tyrants--I abominate them. Let them be slowly--very slowly--SQUASHED to death!"

"Very well, madam," Kelson said, carefully concealing a smile, "here is what you want--wear it next your heart;" and he gave her a locket, containing a magnes microcosmi charged with the essence of life of a leper, which he had procured at considerable risk and expense.

"I consider your fee far too high," the Suffragette said. "You take advantage of me because I'm a woman."

"Very well, madam," he said, "I will make an exception in your case, and let you have it for half the sum."

With a good deal more grumbling she paid the half fee, and, fastening the locket round her neck, flounced out of the building. As Kelson gleefully antic.i.p.ated, the spell acted in less than two days, and with such success, that he was more than compensated for the monetary loss.

Shortly afterwards, Kelson received a frantic visit from another Suffragette--a woman whose virulent sandy hair at once aroused his animosity.

"Quick! Quick!" she cried, bursting into the room where he was sitting. "Let me have a spell that will blow up every Cabinet Minister, and their wives and families as well."

"Such an ambitious request as that, madam," Kelson rejoined, "cannot be granted in a hurry. I must have time--to--"

"No! No! At once!" the lady cried, stamping her feet with ill-suppressed rage.

"--to consider how it can best be done," Kelson went on calmly. "I must have time to think."

The lady fumed, but Kelson remained inexorable; and directly she had gone, he made a wax image of her, and taking up a knife chopped its head off. In the evening, he learned that a lady answering to her description had been run over by a train at Chislehurst--and decapitated.

Kelson grew heartily sick of the Suffragettes. They were not only plain but abusive, and he complained bitterly to Hamar.

"Look here," he said, "it's not fair. You and Curtis see all the decent-looking women and shelve all the rest on me. I'll stand it no longer." And he spoke so determinedly, that Hamar thought it politic to humour him.

"Very well, Matt," he said, forcing a laugh. "I'll try and arrange differently in future. After to-day you shall have your share of the pretty ones--anything to keep the peace. Only--remember--no falling in love."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 22: Lest the reader should query this, let him consult the police in any of our big centres, and he will learn that crime and prost.i.tution is immensely on the increase among children. In Newcastle it is estimated that there are over two thousand girls, of under fourteen years of age, voluntarily leading immoral lives, and making big incomes.]

CHAPTER XXII

THE PERSECUTION OF THE MARTINS

Hamar's one great idea on reaching stage four was to utilize the torments as a means of getting Gladys. Though he saw crowds of pretty girls every day, none appealed to him as she did--and the very difficulty of getting her enhanced her value and stimulated his pa.s.sions.

"I will give her one more chance," he said to himself, "and then if she won't have me I'll plague her to death."

He went to the Imperial, and pa.s.sing himself off as her father to the new official at the stage-door entrance, was shown into the ante-room (which led to her dressing-room). It took a good deal to scare Hamar, but he admitted afterwards that he did feel a trifle apprehensive whilst he awaited her advent; and his antic.i.p.ations were fully realized.

"Why, father!" she began, as the door of her dressing-room swung open and she appeared on the threshold, clad in a shimmering white dress, that intensified her fair style of beauty, "what brings you--" The smile on her face suddenly died away.

"You!" she cried, "how dare you! Go! Go at once! And if you dare come here again or attempt to molest me in any way, I'll prosecute you!"

Hamar, dumbfounded at such an exhibition of wrath, slunk out of the room without uttering a syllable.

"The vixen," he muttered as soon as he found himself in the street. "A thousand cats in one! Treated me like mud. Jerusalem! I'll pay her out. And I'll lose no time about it either. She'll look differently at me next time we meet."

He hurried back to c.o.c.kspur Street and going into the laboratory, threw himself into a chair and--thought.

That same evening at nine-thirty, in the interval between her first and second "going on," Gladys hastened to her dressing-room, and was preparing to partake of the light refreshments she had ordered, when--to her horror--she perceived crawling towards her, across the floor, a huge c.o.c.kroach--a hideous black thing with spidery legs and long antennae that it waved, to and fro, in the air, as it advanced.

It was at least double the size of any Gladys had hitherto seen, and her feelings can best be appreciated by those who fear such things--her blood ran cold, her flesh crawled, she sat glued to her chair, terrified to move, lest it should run after her. She screamed, and her dresser, startled out of her senses, came flying into the room.

"What is it, madam? What is it?" she cried.

Gladys pointed at the floor.