Corney

“ Corney.
‘Very much so indeed, ma’am,’ said the beadle. As he spoke, he drew a chair beside the matron, and tenderly inquired what had happened to distress her.
‘Nothing,’ replied Mrs. Corney. ‘I am a foolish, excitable, weak creetur.’
‘Not weak, ma’am,’ retorted Mr. Bumble, drawing his chair a little closer. ‘Are you a weak creetur, Mrs. Corney?’
‘We are all weak creeturs,’ said Mrs. Corney, laying down a general principle. ”

“ Bumble? You’re a gentleman of experience, and ought to know. Come.’
‘Mrs. Corney,’ said the beadle, smiling as men smile who are conscious of superior information, ‘out-of-door relief, properly managed: properly managed, ma’am: is the porochial safeguard. The great principle of out-of-door relief is, to give the paupers exactly what they don’t want; and then they get tired of coming.’
‘Dear me!’ exclaimed Mrs. Corney. ”

“ Corney muttered a variety of invectives against old women who couldn’t even die without purposely annoying their betters; and, muffling herself in a thick shawl which she hastily caught up, briefly requested Mr. Bumble to stay till she came back, lest anything particular should occur. Bidding the messenger walk fast, and not be all night hobbling up the stairs, she followed her from the room with a very ill grace, scolding all the way. ”

“ Corney was bound 'prentice to a brogue-maker, in his native place—which is Drogheda; but, as he tells us, he was too much the lad o' wax to stick to his last, and left a good home, to seek his fortune on the wide ocean. But there's many of us have done as bad: so we shouldn't cry out upon Corney, you know;—should we, now?—The sea is the sole and only thing in the world that an English, Irish, Scotch, or Welch boy, ever feels truly and deeply in love with. ”

“ If I had only a thrifle of money, I'd go an' seek me fortune there."
"Arrah, thin, what for Corney?"
"Oh! I don't know; I'm not aisy in me mind. If we were only as rich now as Phil Blake, how happy we might be!"
There was the cloud that shut out content from Corney's heart—far-sighted envy, that looks with longing eyes on distant objects, regardless of the comfort near. Most stupid envy, which relinquishes the good within its grasp to reach at something better unattainable, and only becomes conscious of its folly when time has swept away the substance and the shadow. ”

“ Corney lifted his chest and his finger: "Now mark me, and verbum sap: Crossjay must not offend Sir Willoughby. I say no more. Look ahead. Miracles happen, but it's best to reckon that they won't. Well, now, and Miss Dale. She'll not be cruel."
"It appears as if she would," said Vernon, meditating on the cloudy sketch Dr. Corney had drawn.
"She can't, my friend. Her position's precarious; her father has little besides a pension. And her writing damages her health. She can't. And she likes the baronet. Oh, it's only a little fit of proud blood. She's the woman for him. ”

“ Corney began to feel nervous, but coming to the conclusion that he had as good a right to be enriched through fairy agency as ever Phil Blake had, he put on a bold front, and was ushered into the presence of the fairy potentate. ”

“ Relatives from the country used to bring presents of vegetables, and these were often hung up by Corney like Christmas decorations round the kitchen. There was one particular press in the kitchen he would not allow anything into. He would throw it out again. A crock with meat in pickle was put into it, and a fish placed on the cover of the crock. He threw the fish out.
Silver teaspoons were missing, and no account of them could be got until Mrs. A—— asked Corney to confess if he had done anything with them. He said, "They are under the ticking in the servants' bed." ”

“ The piper was obstinate; and after awhile, the gentleman was obliged to say he did'nt think the story a lie. It was then, only, that he got a sup of the whiskey; and Corney gave the garron a hint with his wooden leg, to be going.
“Now,” says Corney, “as we've made friends,—and I don't think I ever had an enemy but one, a whole day,—I'll entertain you with some of my music: but, before I begin, I'll just remind you, that I said while ago, there was boobies everywhere,—didn't I?—I did, that's true enough, and Rory's one o'them. ”

“ And didn't the tailor turn upstart when he'd got the money,—and wouldn't look on his own relations, but cocked his nose at them, and every body that used to know him, as though they were dirt?”
“Well then, Corney,” says Luke; “and if you never saw him before, you can get a look at him now, for this is himself.”
“Oh! pullaloo! murther and horse-beans!” shouted Corney; “and is it with Purcell I've been riding?—No offence, sir,—and I beg pardon for being bould in the bog there;—but are you now, without a word of a lie,—are you the Mushroom?” ”

“ Corney began to stammer out, "bekase I was a trifle unaisy in me mind."
"What about?"
"In regard of the scarcity of money, plaze your reverence."
"What is your trade?"
"A shoemaker, sir."
"Cobbler, you mean," said the voice, severely. "No lying here; recollect your poor, miserable, naked soul stands before us."
Corney thought of the height he'd have to fall, and trembled.
"You can't get work, I suppose," the voice returned.
"Too much of it, if it plaze yer honor. I niver have a minute to spare." ”

“ Corney, sharply. ‘Some of the old women dying, I suppose. They always die when I’m at meals. Don’t stand there, letting the cold air in, don’t. What’s amiss now, eh?’
‘Nothing, ma’am, nothing,’ replied a man’s voice.
‘Dear me!’ exclaimed the matron, in a much sweeter tone, ‘is that Mr. Bumble?’
‘At your service, ma’am,’ said Mr. Bumble, who had been stopping outside to rub his shoes clean, and to shake the snow off his coat; and who now made his appearance, bearing the cocked hat in one hand and a bundle in the other. ”

“ To what?"
"To take a drink."
"Then you have no home?"
"Oh, yes, but I have, sir."
"But 'tis pleasanter to lounge in a tap-room?"
"A trifle, may-be, your honor."
"Perhaps you have no wife to make your home comfortable?"
"Have't I though; the best that ever drew the breath of life," cried Corney, with a loving remembrance of Mary.
"Poor fellow," continued the voice; "your situation is deplorable, it appears. You have a good trade, an excellent wife, a comfortable home, and yet you are discontented."
Corney felt himself resolving into a leaden pellet. ”

“ Corney constantly joined in any conversation carried on by the people of the house. One could never tell when a voice from the coal-cellar would erupt into the dialogue. He had his likes and dislikes: he appeared to dislike anyone that was not afraid of him, and would not talk to them. Mrs. C.'s mother, however, used to get good of him by coaxing. An uncle, having failed to get him to speak one night, took the kitchen poker, and hammered at the door of the coal-cellar, saying, "I'll make you speak"; but Corney wouldn't. Next morning the poker was found broken in two. ”

“ I don't know what's come to them at all now—being out night skirring through the counthry; it can't come to no good, any ways."
"When Corney's at home, where does he sleep?" said Thady, looking round the cabin for a second bed, but seeing none.
"He mostly takes a stretch then down there afore the fire; but Corney's not over partickler where he sleeps. For the matter of that, I b'lieve he sleeps most out in the bog at day time." ”

“ Corney might have come to the hospital to fetch Bert; but probably the old man would have found it impossible to leave his sister, whom he needed to watch constantly, if he would save her from the intemperance that threatened to prove fatal to her. ”

“ Bert watched with interest as the old man made up his fire and set the kettle on it, preparatory to making some cocoa.
"Did you go to Liverpool to see a friend, Mr.—?" he hesitated, not being sure of the name.
"I'm called Corney," said the sailor; "not that it's my real name, but it does as well as any other. My mother, who was a wonderful hand at Bible names, called me Cornelius Theophilus, and my mates soon shortened that into 'Corney.' No, I didn't go to Liverpool to see a friend ”

“ In real life I never knew but of one case where a man suffered in silence unpleasantness he could have ended with a word; and that was the case of the late Corney Grain. He had been engaged to give his entertainment at a country house. The lady was a nouvelle riche of snobbish instincts. She left instructions that Corney Grain when he arrived was to dine with the servants. ”

“ It was ah ugly looking thing, and he felt better when he had it where it could be brought into instant use. Both of the men were desperate characters--one of them had tried to take his life--and he was resolved to run no more risks.
"Oi suppose we can't go back to Corney any more," remarked Mosey, as he took the bottle and helped himself freely. "Ye'll be up fer stealin' and----"
"You'll be up for something worse," finished Corrigan, with a forced laugh. "You're right, Andy. The place is getting too hot to hold us. We'll have to clear out soon, I'm afraid. Where is Max?" ”

“ It's a great honor, and worthy of him. He will be elevated above us all, as it were, and he deserves to be."
"Elevate him on a weathercock!" raged Miss Corny. "There, you may go. I've heard quite enough."
Brushing past the old gentleman, leaving him to depart or not, as he might please, Miss Carlyle strode upstairs, flung on her shawl and bonnet, and strode down again. Her servant looked considerably surprised, and addressed her as she crossed the hall.
"Your dinner, ma'am?" he ventured to say.
"What's my dinner to you?" returned Miss Corny, in her wrath. "You have had yours." ”

“ And Corny’s heart within him swelled like Sir Lancelot’s, for the mirror spoke to him as he passed and said: “Corny, lad, there’s not a guy among ’em that looks a bit the sweller than yerself. And you drivin’ of a truck and them swearin’ off their taxes and playin’ the red in art galleries with the best in the land!” ”

“ It is no uncommon thing for a Cornishman to build his own house, make his own shoes, be both fisherman and miner, and, possibly, small shop-keeper besides; and wherever the Cornish miner emigrates, he is pretty sure to take the lead in enterprise and danger.
Wilkie Collins says: "As a body of men they are industrious, intelligent, sober, and orderly, neither soured by hard work, nor depressed by harsher privations"; and the old poet Taylor, in 1649, writes: "Cornwall is the compleate and repleate Home of Abundance, for high, churlish hills and affable, courteous people. ”

“ Cornish said feebly: "Oh, well...."
Before she willed it, she was telling him:
"He didn't. He didn't leave me," she cried with passion. "He had another wife." Incredibly it was as if she were defending both him and herself.
"Lord sakes!" said Cornish.
She poured it out, in her passion to tell some one, to share her news of her state where there would be neither hardness nor censure.
"We were in Savannah, Georgia," she said. "We were going to leave for Oregon—going to go through California. We were in the hotel, and he was going out to get the tickets. He started to go. Then he came back. ”

“ Again and again have I heard her declare that she saw Joseph, her son, as distinctly as ever she saw him in her life, and that, as he passed the parlour windows, he looked in upon her and smiled.
This is not given as a superstition belonging in any peculiar way to Cornwall. In every part of the British Isles it exists; but I have never met with any people who so firmly believed in the appearance of the phantoms of the dying to those upon whom the last thoughts are centred, as the Cornish did. ”

“ At Eton my tutor was Mr. Francis Warre Cornish, one of the gentlest and most accomplished of men, the very antithesis of the bullying, blustering schoolmaster of the good old type which even then was not wholly superseded. Much loved by those of his pupils who learnt to know him intimately, Mr. Cornish was a good deal hampered in his dealings with boys by his shyness and diffidence; he lacked that gift of geniality which is essential to a successful teacher. ”

“ There is no virtue in the dead hand of a near relation. A curious old troth plight was formerly practised in Cornwall: The couple broke a wedding ring taken from the finger of a corpse, and each kept one half. The editor of a local paper (Cornishman) once obtained a piece of rope, with which a man was hanged, for a poor woman who had walked fourteen miles to Bodmin in the hopes of getting it, that she might effect the cure of her sore eyes. [154]
The Rev. S. Rundle writes that “a Cornish surgeon recommended a charmer as being more efficacious than himself in curing shingles. ”

“ On this subject I do not venture to speak of the Cornish people generally. There may be important differences. I have been told that in the more easterly parts, particularly in mining districts, the people are not of so lively, friendly and communicative a disposition as in West Cornwall; but I assume that here, in Bolerium, we get the least mixed, the truer, Cornishman. Here it seemed to me that not only with regard to the æsthetic faculties, but in various other ways too, in mind and disposition, they are like children of a larger growth. ”

“ A fit of coughing, that almost convinced me that Corny had given his last curse, followed this burst of eloquence, just as I appeared at the door.
“What's the matter, Corny?”
“The matter?—ugh, ain't I coughing my soul out with a wheezing and whistling in my chest like a creel of chickens. Here's Mr. Rooney wanting to see ye; and faith,” as he added in an under tone, “if s not long you wor in making his acquaintance. That's his room,” added he, with a jerk of his thumb. “Now lave the way if you plase, and let me got a howld of the banisters.” ”