I am a Cheap Jack, and my own father's name was Willum Marigold. It was in hislifetime supposed by some that his name was William, but my own father alwaysconsistently said, No, it was Willum. On which point I content myself with looking atthe argument this way: If a man is not allowed to know his own name in a freecountry, how much is he allowed to know in a land of slavery? As to looking at theargument through the medium of the Register, Willum Marigold come into the worldbefore Registers come up much, -and went out of it too. They wouldn't have beengreatly in his line neither, if they had chanced to come up before him.I was born on the Queen's highway, but it was the King's at that time. A doctor wasfetched to my own mother by my own father, when it took place on a common; andin consequence of his being a very kind gentleman, and accepting no fee but a teatray, I was named Doctor, out of gratitude and compliment to him. There you haveme. Doctor Marigold.I am at present a middle-aged man of a broadish build, in cords, leggings, and asleeved waistcoat the strings of which is always gone behind. Repair them how youwill, they go like fiddle-strings. You have been to the theatre, and you have seen oneof the wiolin-players screw up his wiolin, after listening to it as if it had beenwhispering the secret to him that it feared it was out of order, and then you haveheard it snap. That's as exactly similar to my waistcoat as a waistcoat and a wiolin canbe like one another
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