Tylney Hall


Tylney Hall


reckoned unlucky, and I may as well be put out of

my misery at once. I don't mind dying, for I'm

sick of my days ; and, if it pleased God Almighty

to chuck down a handful of sudden deaths, you'd

see me scrambling after one, aye, as hard as ever

a barefoot beggar-boy for a copper out of a coach-


Seldom are the utterers of such sentiments so

sincere as Unlucky Joe was, in this depreciation

of existence : like a long-standing cup of tea, life

generally grows sweeter and sweeter towards the

bottom, and seems to be nothing less than syrup

of sugar at the very last. The desponding, hope-

less creed of the fatalist, however, was one espe-

cially calculated to sicken the heart, and to sadden

the soul, and to wean the owner from a world

paved all over with black stones. According to

an old astrological theorist, there are stars which

ray forth darkness, as well as others that distri-

bute light, and under some gloomy star of the

former class, the unfortunate post-boy considered

himself to have been born, and that he was doomed

to walk in its shade to the end of his days. He

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