with a knowing air of being up to the contents of
the closet, and a musical air of intending to combine
all its harmonies in one delicious fugue. No
common closet with a vulgar door on hinges, openable
all at once, and leaving nothing to be disclosed by
degrees, this rare closet had a lock in mid-air, where
two perpendicular slides met; the one falling down,
and the other pushing up. The upper slide, on
being pulled down (leaving the lower a double mystery),
revealed deep shelves of pickle-jars, jam-pots, tin
canisters, spice-boxes, and agreeably outlandish vessels
of blue and white, the luscious lodgings of preserved
tamarinds and ginger. Every benevolent inhabitant
of this retreat had his name inscribed upon his stomach.
The pickles, in a uniform of rich brown double-breasted
buttoned coat, and yellow or sombre drab continuations,
announced their portly forms, in printed capitals,
as Walnut, Gherkin, Onion, Cabbage, Cauliflower, Mixed,
and other members of that noble family. The
jams, as being of a less masculine temperament, and
as wearing curlpapers, announced themselves in feminine
caligraphy, like a soft whisper, to be Raspberry,
Gooseberry, Apricot, Plum, Damson, Apple, and Peach.
The scene closing on these charmers, and the lower
slide ascending, oranges were revealed, attended by
a mighty japanned sugar-box, to temper their acerbity
if unripe. Home-made biscuits waited at the
Court of these Powers, accompanied by a goodly fragment
of plum-cake, and various slender ladies’ fingers,
to be dipped into sweet wine and kissed. Lowest
of all, a compact leaden-vault enshrined the sweet
wine and a stock of cordials: whence issued whispers
of Seville Orange, Lemon, Almond, and Caraway-seed.
There was a crowning air upon this closet of closets,
of having been for ages hummed through by the Cathedral
bell and organ, until those venerable bees had made
sublimated honey of everything in store; and it was
always observed that every dipper among the shelves
(deep, as has been noticed, and swallowing up head,
shoulders, and elbows) came forth again mellow-faced,
and seeming to have undergone a saccharine transfiguration.
The Reverend Septimus yielded himself up quite as
willing a victim to a nauseous medicinal herb-closet,
also presided over by the china shepherdess, as to
this glorious cupboard. To what amazing infusions
of gentian, peppermint, gilliflower, sage, parsley,
thyme, rue, rosemary, and dandelion, did his courageous
stomach submit itself! In what wonderful wrappers,
enclosing layers of dried leaves, would he swathe
his rosy and contented face, if his mother suspected
him of a toothache! What botanical blotches would
he cheerfully stick upon his cheek, or forehead, if
the dear old lady convicted him of an imperceptible
pimple there! Into this herbaceous penitentiary,
situated on an upper staircase-landing: a low
and narrow whitewashed cell, where bunches of dried
leaves hung from rusty hooks in the ceiling, and were