Stepney

“ If none of us ever drank anything stronger than tea.
For how can a man hope to write a beautiful song
When he is hanging round the public-houses all day long?
"Spring Onions" apart, Stepney is a home for all manner of queer characters, full of fire and salt; from Peter the Painter, of immortal memory, to those odd-job men who live well by being Jacks of all trades, and masters of them, too. ”

“ Then the girl came to him, and she said: "You will never be able to catch it without my help. And I will turn myself into a mare," she said; "and you can get on my back. But remember," she said, "not to put the spurs into me whatever may happen." She turned herself into a mare then, and he got on her back. And the old witch came out then and she called to Stepney: "Don't spare the spurs." ”

“ Marcus Stepney as well as Jean knew him, she would have realised that he adapted his mental attitude to his audience. He was a man whose stock-in-trade was a knowledge of human nature, and the ability to please. He would no more have attempted to shock or frighten her, than a first-class salesman would shock or annoy a possible customer. ”

“ In the next year he returned to England in the hope of recovering from a severe illness, but died in Chelsea, London, on the 15th of September 1707, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Stepney had a very full and accurate knowledge of German affairs, and was an excellent letter-writer. ”

“ It seems probable that the eminence to which Stepney rose, must have been more owing to some personal kindness lord Hallifax had for him, than to his merit as a writer. In raising Stepney, his lordship might act as the friend of the man, but not as a patron of the poet. Friendship, in many respects, participates of the nature of love; it begins, we know not how, it strengthens by imperceptible degrees, and grows into an established firmness. ”

“ STEPNEY, GEORGE (1663–1707) , poet and envoy, descended from the Stepneys of Prendergast in Pembrokeshire, was the son of George Stepney, groom of the chamber to Charles II, and grandson of Sir Thomas Stepney, knt., cupbearer to Charles I, by his wife, Mary, eldest daughter and coheiress of Sir Bernard Whetstone, knt., of Woodford, Essex. He was born at Westminster in 1663, and was educated at Westminster School, where he was admitted on the foundation at Whitsuntide 1676, and formed his lifelong friendship with Charles Montagu (afterwards Earl of Halifax) [q. v.] ”

“ Montague, was owing all the preferment Mr. Stepney afterwards enjoyed; for he seems not to have had parts sufficient to have risen to any distinction, without the immediate patronage of so great a man, as the lord Hallifax. When Stepney first set out in life, he was perhaps attached to the Tory interest, for one of the first poems he wrote, was an Address to king James the Second, on his Accession to the Throne. In this little piece, in which there is as little poetry, he compares that monarch to Hercules, but with what propriety let the reader judge. ”

“ Soon after the accession of James II. when Monmouth's rebellion broke out, the university of Cambridge, to demonstrate their zeal for the King, thought proper to burn the picture of that rash Prince, who had formerly been their chancellor. Upon this occasion Stepney wrote some good verses, in answer to this question;
——Sed quid Turba Remi? sequitur fortunam, ut semper et odit damnatos.
Upon the revolution he embraced another interest, and procured himself to be nominated for several foreign embassies. ”

“ And, second, there is a resemblance in the diction of the notes from the kidnappers and the note of blackmail intent, signed ‘Step’.”
“What do you suppose ‘Step’ means?” Granniss asked.
“Short for Stephen, I daresay,” replied Wise. “There’s no other name that begins,—oh, yes, there is Stepney,—but it doesn’t matter. ‘Step’ is our man,—of that I’m sure. But how to find such an elusive individual is a puzzling problem.” ”

“ Shoreditch [sings, smiling] . "When I grow rich, says the bell of Shoreditch."
Old Bailey. That's all very well, but it's a long time to wait. You put back that orange and give me back the pennies.
[They begin fighting, their bells making a noise as they do so. Enter Stepney and Bow, ringing bells, Stepney in front.
Stepney. Stepney!
Bow. And Bow!
Stepney. Stepney!
Bow. And Bow!
[They look at the boys fighting.
Bow. What's all this about?
Old Bailey. I've lent this Shoreditch boy twopence, and he says he'll pay me when he grows rich.
Stepney [to Shoreditch, sings] . "When will that be? ”

“ Jack Stepney had once said of her that she was as reliable as roast mutton. His own taste was in the line of less solid and more highly-seasoned diet; but hunger makes any fare palatable, and there had been times when Mr. Stepney had been reduced to a crust. ”

“ His widow, who was pretty, accomplished, and fashionable, and made her house the rendezvous of authors and artists, died at Henrietta Street, Cavendish Square, London, on 14 April 1845.
She wrote in later life four novels: ‘The New Road to Ruin,’ 1833; ‘The Heir Presumptive,’ 1835; ‘The Courtier's Daughter,’ 1838, 1841; and ‘The Three Peers,’ 1841, all in 3 vols. They show careful observation of London society. Lady Stepney also contributed to the fashionable annuals ”

“ Thus passed I forth the time at Limehurst until Christmas [1553] was passed, then I waxed something strong. I then thought it best to shift from thence; for that I had there fierce enemies; especially [Henry More the Vicar of Stepney, Abbot quondam of St. Mary de Grace on Tower Hill. He died in November, 1554.]
Whom I apprehended in King Edward's time, and carried him to Croydon to Cranmer, Bishop of Canterbury, for that he disturbed the Preachers in his Church [at Stepney] causing the bells to be rung when they were at the Sermon ”

“ She has a pleasant little home in one of the big tenements, where she lives with her mother and little brother, and, in her [Pg 103] own demonstrative way, is happy. The harder she works, the more money there is for luxuries for the little brother. Often of an evening her friends come home with her, and drink tea-and-lemon with her, and make music.
Sonia Karavitch is very shy, and never mixes with the folk who are not of her own colony. She was born in Stepney of Russian parents, and she never goes out of Stepney. ”

“ Macray, Annals of the Bodleian Library.
GEORGE STEEVENS, 1736-1800
George Steevens, the Shakesperian commentator, who was born on the 10th of May 1736, was the only son of George Steevens of Stepney, for many years an East India captain, and afterwards a Director of the East India Company. He received his early education at a school at Kingston-on-Thames and at Eton. In 1753 he [Pg 241] was admitted a fellow-commoner of King's College, Cambridge, but left the University without taking a degree. ”

“ LAWRENCE, GEORGE (1616–1695?) , puritan divine, son of George Lawrence of Stepney, was born in the county of Middlesex about 1615. He was a scholar of St. Paul's School under Alexander Gill, was Pauline exhibitioner at New Inn Hall, Oxford, from 1632 to 1640, proceeded B.A. 2 July 1636, and M.A. 2 May 1639. Wood (Athenæ, iv. 783) is unable to state whether he took holy orders from a bishop or not. He was a 'most violent puritan, and a great admirer of the Scotch covenant.' In 1640 he was lecturer at the church of St. ”

“ Al Stephens, as his wife and comrade, it made his heart sink. He fastened his low collar and made a neat little bow of his necktie.... The two clear eyed and fearless comrades who were to face life together—to solve problems of living—this earnest young man in a blue serge suit, and this slender, seductive creature in silver.
“My God!” he said to himself. “The Life Urge works the wrong way—no doubt about it. It’s against progress and clear thinking.”
He was not given to facile caresses; he only looked at Andrée, with eyes sombre and doubtful. ”

“ CHAPTER V. STEPAN MAKES COFFEE.
"BAH!" said Stepan, moving not a muscle as Gavril brandished the great axe over his head. "It seems to me that, for a man no longer in his first youth, thou art passing foolish. Hast thou not sin enough yet upon thy soul but thou must add murder to thy wrongdoings? In truth, Red-scar, thou hast much to learn, and thou wilt one day learn thy last lesson too late, with a noose about thy neck." ”

“ It was clear to Mrs Verloc that he was greatly excited.
"Nobody can help that," she said. "Do come along. Is that the way you're taking care of me?"
Stevie mended his pace obediently. He prided himself on being a good brother. His morality, which was very complete, demanded that from him. Yet he was pained at the information imparted by his sister Winnie who was good. Nobody could help that! He came along gloomily, but presently he brightened up. Like the rest of mankind, perplexed by the mystery of the universe, he had his moments of consoling trust in the organised powers of the earth. ”

“ Mr Verloc never meant Stevie to perish with such abrupt violence. He did not mean him to perish at all. Stevie dead was a much greater nuisance than ever he had been when alive. Mr Verloc had augured a favourable issue to his enterprise, basing himself not on Stevie's intelligence, which sometimes plays queer tricks with a man, but on the blind docility and on the blind devotion of the boy. Though not much of a psychologist, Mr Verloc had gauged the depth of Stevie's fanaticism. ”

“ And that from the calm Winnie sounded like exaggeration. But, in truth, Stevie moped in the striking fashion of an unhappy domestic animal. He would go up on the dark landing, to sit on the floor at the foot of the tall clock, with his knees drawn up and his head in his hands. To come upon his pallid face, with its big eyes gleaming in the dusk, was discomposing; to think of him up there was uncomfortable.
Mr Verloc got used to the startling novelty of the idea. He was fond of his wife as a man should be—that is, generously. ”

“ No physical impossibility stood in the way of his whim. Stevie could have managed easily to keep pace with the infirm, dancing horse without getting out of breath. But his sister withheld her consent decisively. "The idea! Whoever heard of such a thing! Run after a cab!" Her mother, frightened and helpless in the depths of the conveyance, entreated: "Oh, don't let him, Winnie. He'll get lost. Don't let him."
"Certainly not. What next! Mr Verloc will be sorry to hear of this nonsense, Stevie,—I can tell you. He won't be happy at all." ”

“ But, strangely, more than the actual Stephen did he miss the imaginary future Stephen at school, hero of a thousand games, winner of a thousand prizes, the Stephen grown up, famous already at so young an age, loved by men and women, handsome, good. . . . Oh! the folly of it! No human being could carry all the glories that Peter had designed for his son—no human being, then how much less a Westcott. It might be best after all, young Stephen had been spared. ”

“ Stephen looked up with a smile. "Peace be with thee, Ben Obed, and to all that are within thy house; yes, I will come with thee, but let me first speak with this woman, who hath patiently waited for me since the beginning of the distribution. What is it that thou wouldst ask of me, woman?"
"I have brought hither my babe," answered the woman in a low, anxious voice. "He doth not wake and smile on me as formerly, but only sleeps. Surely it is not well with him."
"If he sleep he shall do well," said Stephen, unconsciously quoting the words of his Master when told of the sickness of Lazarus. ”

“ He knew that Stepan had been put into prison through ill luck, and did not mind giving him shelter for the night. He was a rich man, and had persuaded his neighbour’s wife to leave her husband and come to live with him. She lived in his house as his wife, and helped him in his business as well.
Stepan knew all about the innkeeper’s affairs—how he had wronged the peasant, and how the woman who was living with him had left her husband. He saw her now sitting at the table in a rich dress, and looking very hot as she drank her tea. With great condescension she asked Stepan to have tea with her. ”

“ Mother would take Teddy away and do whatever she pleased with him because she was stronger than Stephen. The brute forces of jungle [Pg 21] life yelled loud in Stephen’s ears and mocked at his helplessness.
But Stephen was no Henry or Helen to droop, to shrink and quail. He fled to his own refuge, the only one which left him a shred of human dignity: fierce, hopeless, endless resistance: the determination of every brave despairing heart confronted with hopeless odds, at least to sell his safety dear; to fight as long as his strength held out: never, never to surrender of his own accord. ”

“ And Stepan came out, with a dignity scarcely to be expected from him. Some of his words were beyond my knowledge; but upon the whole he spoke like this—
"I have not been round the world three times; and that man is the wisest traveller who goes through his own self the most. But in all the countries that I have seen, the women are better than the men, according to the gifts of nature. Of money they are not half so greedy, and they have more compassion. Usi, the Svân, will tell you what the father does to the female babies, when he has too many of them, in the country of men and women. ”

“ SPIRIT OF A LIVING MAN THROWING STONES.
Mr. Thomas Stephens, an intelligent old man in the neighbourhood of Mydroilyn, in the Parish of Llanarth, Cardiganshire, informed me that between 60 and 70 years ago his father, John Stephens, when a young man, was coming home late one evening after spending a few hours of pleasant time with the young woman of his affection at a neighbouring farm. ”

“ The singers looked at him in a languid, careless way, and he began to lose his temper. Suddenly one of the trebles pulled another’s ear, which instantly resulted in a quarrel.
“Ivàn Stepànych,” said one of the most troublesome, “I can’t sing with Mìtka; he keeps on snuffling all the time.”
“Mìtka!”
“Yes, sir!”
“What are you doing?”
“I haven’t done nothing,” replied the injured alto.
323“Nothing! I’ll give you what for, my lad! Come and stand over here; I won’t put up with much nonsense, I can tell you! Oh, good Lord! what a dog’s life! What do you come here for, if you please? ”