 as possible), how during some hours of yesterday evening a very peculiar
smell was observed by the inhabitants of the court, in which the tragical
occurrence which forms the subject of that present account transpired; and which
odour was at one time so powerful, that Mr. Swills, a comic vocalist,
professionally engaged by Mr. J.G. Bogsby, has himself stated to our reporter
that he mentioned to Miss M. Melvilleson, a lady of some pretensions to musical
ability, likewise engaged by Mr. J.G. Bogsby to sing at a series of concerts
called Harmonic Assemblies or Meetings, which it would appear are held at the
Sol's Arms, under Mr. Bogsby's direction, pursuant to the Act of George the
Second, that he (Mr. Swills) found his voice seriously affected by the impure
state of the atmosphere; his jocose expression, at the time, being, that he was
like an empty post-office, for he hadn't a single note in him. How this account
of Mr. Swills is entirely corroborated by two intelligent married females
residing in the same court, and known respectively by the names of Mrs. Piper
and Mrs. Perkins; both of whom observed the foetid effluvia, and regarded them
as being emitted from the premises in the occupation of Krook, the unfortunate
deceased. All this and a great deal more, the two gentlemen, who have formed an
amicable partnership in the melancholy catastrophe, write down on the spot; and
the boy population of the court (out of bed in a moment) swarm up the shutters
of the Sol's Arms parlour, to behold the tops of their heads while they are
about it.
    The whole court, adult as well as boy, is sleepless for that night, and can
do nothing but wrap up its many heads, and talk of the ill-fated house, and look
at it. Miss Flite has been bravely rescued from her chamber, as if it were in
flames, and accommodated with a bed at the Sol's Arms. The Sol neither turns off
its gas nor shuts its door, all night; for any kind of public excitement makes
good for the Sol, and causes the court to stand in need of comfort. The house
has not done so much in the stomachic article of cloves, or in brandy-and-water
warm, since the Inquest. The moment the potboy heard what had happened, be
rolled up his shirt-sleeves tight to his shoulders, and said, »There'll be a run
upon us!« In
