Volume 2 — CHAPTER IV. JOSH. HUDSON, “THE JOHN BULL FIGHTER.”—1816–1826. (continued 2)

“How much?”

“Forty pounds!” gasped Jolly Josh. not yet recovered from his run.

The assistant stepped into his employer’s sanctum, who instantly returned with the shining pledge in his hands.

A brief colloquy explained the position of affairs. Josh. wanted forty pounds.

“Mine Uncle” proceeded to his desk, but not to make out the “ticket” required by law. He merely wrote an acknowledgment, to be signed by Josh., that he had received a loan of forty pounds. This “mine Uncle” presented to him for signature. Josh. was overwhelmed.

“No, no,” said mine Uncle! “Take back your Cup, Josh., you must not be without it. Pay me, as I know you will, as soon as you are able. I’ll not have that piece of wedge go to sale anyhow.”

Josh returned to the Half Moon with both money and cup; discharged the duty of friendship, and the pawnbroker lost nothing by his confidence.

We must preserve the name of the generous pawnbroker (strange coupling of epithets!), it was Folkard, and the assistant was the youth who, in after years, was the well-known Renton Nicholson, of newspaper and “Town” celebrity, 290from whose lips we have often heard this little episode of “John Bull and his Uncle.”

“Mine host in the market, a prime jolly fellow,

As rough and as ready as here and there one;

In his lush-crib when seated, good-humoured and mellow,

Looks very like Bacchus astride of his tun.

But more to advantage, with Davy beside him,

This John Bull, the picture of frolic appears,

Discoursing on battles, which those who have tried him

Confess to have rung a full peal in their ears.”

In 1827, Mrs. Hudson presented, as a second offering, a son and heir, which occasion the friends and admirers of the father celebrated by a festival on Christmas Day, whereat a silver cup was presented to the young “John Bull,” inscribed: “The gift of a few friends to Josh. Hudson, junior, born February 28th, 1827, within the sound of Bow Bells.”

The free life of a publican, with one who certainly had no inclination to check free living, was not long in telling its tale. Josh. was now visited with increasing frequency by gout and its too common sequel, dropsy, and died at the age of thirty-eight, on the 8th of October, 1835, at the Flying Horse, in Milton Street, Finsbury.

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