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diff --git a/1415-h/1415-h.htm b/1415-h/1415-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa49c0b --- /dev/null +++ b/1415-h/1415-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1454 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Doctor Marigold</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Doctor Marigold, by Charles Dickens</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Doctor Marigold, by Charles Dickens + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Doctor Marigold + + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Release Date: April 3, 2005 [eBook #1415] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOCTOR MARIGOLD*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1894 Chapman and Hall “Christmas Stories” +edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<h1>DOCTOR MARIGOLD</h1> +<p>I am a Cheap Jack, and my own father’s name was Willum Marigold. +It was in his lifetime supposed by some that his name was William, but +my own father always consistently said, No, it was Willum. On +which point I content myself with looking at the argument this way: +If a man is not allowed to know his own name in a free country, how +much is he allowed to know in a land of slavery? As to looking +at the argument through the medium of the Register, Willum Marigold +come into the world before Registers come up much,—and went out +of it too. They wouldn’t have been greatly in his line neither, +if they had chanced to come up before him.</p> +<p>I was born on the Queen’s highway, but it was the King’s +at that time. A doctor was fetched to my own mother by my own +father, when it took place on a common; and in consequence of his being +a very kind gentleman, and accepting no fee but a tea-tray, I was named +Doctor, out of gratitude and compliment to him. There you have +me. Doctor Marigold.</p> +<p>I am at present a middle-aged man of a broadish build, in cords, +leggings, and a sleeved waistcoat the strings of which is always gone +behind. Repair them how you will, they go like fiddle-strings. +You have been to the theatre, and you have seen one of the wiolin-players +screw up his wiolin, after listening to it as if it had been whispering +the secret to him that it feared it was out of order, and then you have +heard it snap. That’s as exactly similar to my waistcoat +as a waistcoat and a wiolin can be like one another.</p> +<p>I am partial to a white hat, and I like a shawl round my neck wore +loose and easy. Sitting down is my favourite posture. If +I have a taste in point of personal jewelry, it is mother-of-pearl buttons. +There you have me again, as large as life.</p> +<p>The doctor having accepted a tea-tray, you’ll guess that my +father was a Cheap Jack before me. You are right. He was. +It was a pretty tray. It represented a large lady going along +a serpentining up-hill gravel-walk, to attend a little church. +Two swans had likewise come astray with the same intentions. When +I call her a large lady, I don’t mean in point of breadth, for +there she fell below my views, but she more than made it up in heighth; +her heighth and slimness was—in short THE heighth of both.</p> +<p>I often saw that tray, after I was the innocently smiling cause (or +more likely screeching one) of the doctor’s standing it up on +a table against the wall in his consulting-room. Whenever my own +father and mother were in that part of the country, I used to put my +head (I have heard my own mother say it was flaxen curls at that time, +though you wouldn’t know an old hearth-broom from it now till +you come to the handle, and found it wasn’t me) in at the doctor’s +door, and the doctor was always glad to see me, and said, “Aha, +my brother practitioner! Come in, little M.D. How are your +inclinations as to sixpence?”</p> +<p>You can’t go on for ever, you’ll find, nor yet could +my father nor yet my mother. If you don’t go off as a whole +when you are about due, you’re liable to go off in part, and two +to one your head’s the part. Gradually my father went off +his, and my mother went off hers. It was in a harmless way, but +it put out the family where I boarded them. The old couple, though +retired, got to be wholly and solely devoted to the Cheap Jack business, +and were always selling the family off. Whenever the cloth was +laid for dinner, my father began rattling the plates and dishes, as +we do in our line when we put up crockery for a bid, only he had lost +the trick of it, and mostly let ’em drop and broke ’em. +As the old lady had been used to sit in the cart, and hand the articles +out one by one to the old gentleman on the footboard to sell, just in +the same way she handed him every item of the family’s property, +and they disposed of it in their own imaginations from morning to night. +At last the old gentleman, lying bedridden in the same room with the +old lady, cries out in the old patter, fluent, after having been silent +for two days and nights: “Now here, my jolly companions every +one,—which the Nightingale club in a village was held, At the +sign of the Cabbage and Shears, Where the singers no doubt would have +greatly excelled, But for want of taste, voices and ears,—now, +here, my jolly companions, every one, is a working model of a used-up +old Cheap Jack, without a tooth in his head, and with a pain in every +bone: so like life that it would be just as good if it wasn’t +better, just as bad if it wasn’t worse, and just as new if it +wasn’t worn out. Bid for the working model of the old Cheap +Jack, who has drunk more gunpowder-tea with the ladies in his time than +would blow the lid off a washerwoman’s copper, and carry it as +many thousands of miles higher than the moon as naught nix naught, divided +by the national debt, carry nothing to the poor-rates, three under, +and two over. Now, my hearts of oak and men of straw, what do +you say for the lot? Two shillings, a shilling, tenpence, eightpence, +sixpence, fourpence. Twopence? Who said twopence? +The gentleman in the scarecrow’s hat? I am ashamed of the +gentleman in the scarecrow’s hat. I really am ashamed of +him for his want of public spirit. Now I’ll tell you what +I’ll do with you. Come! I’ll throw you in a +working model of a old woman that was married to the old Cheap Jack +so long ago that upon my word and honour it took place in Noah’s +Ark, before the Unicorn could get in to forbid the banns by blowing +a tune upon his horn. There now! Come! What do you +say for both? I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you. +I don’t bear you malice for being so backward. Here! +If you make me a bid that’ll only reflect a little credit on your +town, I’ll throw you in a warming-pan for nothing, and lend you +a toasting-fork for life. Now come; what do you say after that +splendid offer? Say two pound, say thirty shillings, say a pound, +say ten shillings, say five, say two and six. You don’t +say even two and six? You say two and three? No. You +shan’t have the lot for two and three. I’d sooner +give it to you, if you was good-looking enough. Here! Missis! +Chuck the old man and woman into the cart, put the horse to, and drive +’em away and bury ’em!” Such were the last words +of Willum Marigold, my own father, and they were carried out, by him +and by his wife, my own mother, on one and the same day, as I ought +to know, having followed as mourner.</p> +<p>My father had been a lovely one in his time at the Cheap Jack work, +as his dying observations went to prove. But I top him. +I don’t say it because it’s myself, but because it has been +universally acknowledged by all that has had the means of comparison. +I have worked at it. I have measured myself against other public +speakers,—Members of Parliament, Platforms, Pulpits, Counsel learned +in the law,—and where I have found ’em good, I have took +a bit of imagination from ’em, and where I have found ’em +bad, I have let ’em alone. Now I’ll tell you what. +I mean to go down into my grave declaring that of all the callings ill +used in Great Britain, the Cheap Jack calling is the worst used. +Why ain’t we a profession? Why ain’t we endowed with +privileges? Why are we forced to take out a hawker’s license, +when no such thing is expected of the political hawkers? Where’s +the difference betwixt us? Except that we are Cheap Jacks and +they are Dear Jacks, <i>I</i> don’t see any difference but what’s +in our favour.</p> +<p>For look here! Say it’s election time. I am on +the footboard of my cart in the market-place, on a Saturday night. +I put up a general miscellaneous lot. I say: “Now here, +my free and independent woters, I’m a going to give you such a +chance as you never had in all your born days, nor yet the days preceding. +Now I’ll show you what I am a going to do with you. Here’s +a pair of razors that’ll shave you closer than the Board of Guardians; +here’s a flat-iron worth its weight in gold; here’s a frying-pan +artificially flavoured with essence of beefsteaks to that degree that +you’ve only got for the rest of your lives to fry bread and dripping +in it and there you are replete with animal food; here’s a genuine +chronometer watch in such a solid silver case that you may knock at +the door with it when you come home late from a social meeting, and +rouse your wife and family, and save up your knocker for the postman; +and here’s half-a-dozen dinner plates that you may play the cymbals +with to charm baby when it’s fractious. Stop! I’ll +throw in another article, and I’ll give you that, and it’s +a rolling-pin; and if the baby can only get it well into its mouth when +its teeth is coming and rub the gums once with it, they’ll come +through double, in a fit of laughter equal to being tickled. Stop +again! I’ll throw you in another article, because I don’t +like the looks of you, for you haven’t the appearance of buyers +unless I lose by you, and because I’d rather lose than not take +money to-night, and that’s a looking-glass in which you may see +how ugly you look when you don’t bid. What do you say now? +Come! Do you say a pound? Not you, for you haven’t +got it. Do you say ten shillings? Not you, for you owe more +to the tallyman. Well then, I’ll tell you what I’ll +do with you. I’ll heap ’em all on the footboard of +the cart,—there they are! razors, flat watch, dinner plates, rolling-pin, +and away for four shillings, and I’ll give you sixpence for your +trouble!” This is me, the Cheap Jack. But on the Monday +morning, in the same market-place, comes the Dear Jack on the hustings—<i>his</i> +cart—and, what does <i>he</i> say? “Now my free and +independent woters, I am a going to give you such a chance” (he +begins just like me) “as you never had in all your born days, +and that’s the chance of sending Myself to Parliament. Now +I’ll tell you what I am a going to do for you. Here’s +the interests of this magnificent town promoted above all the rest of +the civilised and uncivilised earth. Here’s your railways +carried, and your neighbours’ railways jockeyed. Here’s +all your sons in the Post-office. Here’s Britannia smiling +on you. Here’s the eyes of Europe on you. Here’s +uniwersal prosperity for you, repletion of animal food, golden cornfields, +gladsome homesteads, and rounds of applause from your own hearts, all +in one lot, and that’s myself. Will you take me as I stand? +You won’t? Well, then, I’ll tell you what I’ll +do with you. Come now! I’ll throw you in anything +you ask for. There! Church-rates, abolition of more malt +tax, no malt tax, universal education to the highest mark, or uniwersal +ignorance to the lowest, total abolition of flogging in the army or +a dozen for every private once a month all round, Wrongs of Men or Rights +of Women—only say which it shall be, take ’em or leave ’em, +and I’m of your opinion altogether, and the lot’s your own +on your own terms. There! You won’t take it yet! +Well, then, I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you. Come! +You <i>are</i> such free and independent woters, and I am so proud of +you,—you <i>are</i> such a noble and enlightened constituency, +and I <i>am</i> so ambitious of the honour and dignity of being your +member, which is by far the highest level to which the wings of the +human mind can soar,—that I’ll tell you what I’ll +do with you. I’ll throw you in all the public-houses in +your magnificent town for nothing. Will that content you? +It won’t? You won’t take the lot yet? Well, +then, before I put the horse in and drive away, and make the offer to +the next most magnificent town that can be discovered, I’ll tell +you what I’ll do. Take the lot, and I’ll drop two +thousand pound in the streets of your magnificent town for them to pick +up that can. Not enough? Now look here. This is the +very furthest that I’m a going to. I’ll make it two +thousand five hundred. And still you won’t? Here, +missis! Put the horse—no, stop half a moment, I shouldn’t +like to turn my back upon you neither for a trifle, I’ll make +it two thousand seven hundred and fifty pound. There! Take +the lot on your own terms, and I’ll count out two thousand seven +hundred and fifty pound on the footboard of the cart, to be dropped +in the streets of your magnificent town for them to pick up that can. +What do you say? Come now! You won’t do better, and +you may do worse. You take it? Hooray! Sold again, +and got the seat!”</p> +<p>These Dear Jacks soap the people shameful, but we Cheap Jacks don’t. +We tell ’em the truth about themselves to their faces, and scorn +to court ’em. As to wenturesomeness in the way of puffing +up the lots, the Dear Jacks beat us hollow. It is considered in +the Cheap Jack calling, that better patter can be made out of a gun +than any article we put up from the cart, except a pair of spectacles. +I often hold forth about a gun for a quarter of an hour, and feel as +if I need never leave off. But when I tell ’em what the +gun can do, and what the gun has brought down, I never go half so far +as the Dear Jacks do when they make speeches in praise of <i>their</i> +guns—their great guns that set ’em on to do it. Besides, +I’m in business for myself: I ain’t sent down into the market-place +to order, as they are. Besides, again, my guns don’t know +what I say in their laudation, and their guns do, and the whole concern +of ’em have reason to be sick and ashamed all round. These +are some of my arguments for declaring that the Cheap Jack calling is +treated ill in Great Britain, and for turning warm when I think of the +other Jacks in question setting themselves up to pretend to look down +upon it.</p> +<p>I courted my wife from the footboard of the cart. I did indeed. +She was a Suffolk young woman, and it was in Ipswich market-place right +opposite the corn-chandler’s shop. I had noticed her up +at a window last Saturday that was, appreciating highly. I had +took to her, and I had said to myself, “If not already disposed +of, I’ll have that lot.” Next Saturday that come, +I pitched the cart on the same pitch, and I was in very high feather +indeed, keeping ’em laughing the whole of the time, and getting +off the goods briskly. At last I took out of my waistcoat-pocket +a small lot wrapped in soft paper, and I put it this way (looking up +at the window where she was). “Now here, my blooming English +maidens, is an article, the last article of the present evening’s +sale, which I offer to only you, the lovely Suffolk Dumplings biling +over with beauty, and I won’t take a bid of a thousand pounds +for from any man alive. Now what is it? Why, I’ll +tell you what it is. It’s made of fine gold, and it’s +not broke, though there’s a hole in the middle of it, and it’s +stronger than any fetter that ever was forged, though it’s smaller +than any finger in my set of ten. Why ten? Because, when +my parents made over my property to me, I tell you true, there was twelve +sheets, twelve towels, twelve table-cloths, twelve knives, twelve forks, +twelve tablespoons, and twelve teaspoons, but my set of fingers was +two short of a dozen, and could never since be matched. Now what +else is it? Come, I’ll tell you. It’s a hoop +of solid gold, wrapped in a silver curl-paper, that I myself took off +the shining locks of the ever beautiful old lady in Threadneedle Street, +London city; I wouldn’t tell you so if I hadn’t the paper +to show, or you mightn’t believe it even of me. Now what +else is it? It’s a man-trap and a handcuff, the parish stocks +and a leg-lock, all in gold and all in one. Now what else is it? +It’s a wedding-ring. Now I’ll tell you what I’m +a going to do with it. I’m not a going to offer this lot +for money; but I mean to give it to the next of you beauties that laughs, +and I’ll pay her a visit to-morrow morning at exactly half after +nine o’clock as the chimes go, and I’ll take her out for +a walk to put up the banns.” She laughed, and got the ring +handed up to her. When I called in the morning, she says, “O +dear! It’s never you, and you never mean it?” +“It’s ever me,” says I, “and I am ever yours, +and I ever mean it.” So we got married, after being put +up three times—which, by the bye, is quite in the Cheap Jack way +again, and shows once more how the Cheap Jack customs pervade society.</p> +<p>She wasn’t a bad wife, but she had a temper. If she could +have parted with that one article at a sacrifice, I wouldn’t have +swopped her away in exchange for any other woman in England. Not +that I ever did swop her away, for we lived together till she died, +and that was thirteen year. Now, my lords and ladies and gentlefolks +all, I’ll let you into a secret, though you won’t believe +it. Thirteen year of temper in a Palace would try the worst of +you, but thirteen year of temper in a Cart would try the best of you. +You are kept so very close to it in a cart, you see. There’s +thousands of couples among you getting on like sweet ile upon a whetstone +in houses five and six pairs of stairs high, that would go to the Divorce +Court in a cart. Whether the jolting makes it worse, I don’t +undertake to decide; but in a cart it does come home to you, and stick +to you. Wiolence in a cart is <i>so</i> wiolent, and aggrawation +in a cart is <i>so</i> aggrawating.</p> +<p>We might have had such a pleasant life! A roomy cart, with +the large goods hung outside, and the bed slung underneath it when on +the road, an iron pot and a kettle, a fireplace for the cold weather, +a chimney for the smoke, a hanging-shelf and a cupboard, a dog and a +horse. What more do you want? You draw off upon a bit of +turf in a green lane or by the roadside, you hobble your old horse and +turn him grazing, you light your fire upon the ashes of the last visitors, +you cook your stew, and you wouldn’t call the Emperor of France +your father. But have a temper in the cart, flinging language +and the hardest goods in stock at you, and where are you then? +Put a name to your feelings.</p> +<p>My dog knew as well when she was on the turn as I did. Before +she broke out, he would give a howl, and bolt. How he knew it, +was a mystery to me; but the sure and certain knowledge of it would +wake him up out of his soundest sleep, and he would give a howl, and +bolt. At such times I wished I was him.</p> +<p>The worst of it was, we had a daughter born to us, and I love children +with all my heart. When she was in her furies she beat the child. +This got to be so shocking, as the child got to be four or five year +old, that I have many a time gone on with my whip over my shoulder, +at the old horse’s head, sobbing and crying worse than ever little +Sophy did. For how could I prevent it? Such a thing is not +to be tried with such a temper—in a cart—without coming +to a fight. It’s in the natural size and formation of a +cart to bring it to a fight. And then the poor child got worse +terrified than before, as well as worse hurt generally, and her mother +made complaints to the next people we lighted on, and the word went +round, “Here’s a wretch of a Cheap Jack been a beating his +wife.”</p> +<p>Little Sophy was such a brave child! She grew to be quite devoted +to her poor father, though he could do so little to help her. +She had a wonderful quantity of shining dark hair, all curling natural +about her. It is quite astonishing to me now, that I didn’t +go tearing mad when I used to see her run from her mother before the +cart, and her mother catch her by this hair, and pull her down by it, +and beat her.</p> +<p>Such a brave child I said she was! Ah! with reason.</p> +<p>“Don’t you mind next time, father dear,” she would +whisper to me, with her little face still flushed, and her bright eyes +still wet; “if I don’t cry out, you may know I am not much +hurt. And even if I do cry out, it will only be to get mother +to let go and leave off.” What I have seen the little spirit +bear—for me—without crying out!</p> +<p>Yet in other respects her mother took great care of her. Her +clothes were always clean and neat, and her mother was never tired of +working at ’em. Such is the inconsistency in things. +Our being down in the marsh country in unhealthy weather, I consider +the cause of Sophy’s taking bad low fever; but however she took +it, once she got it she turned away from her mother for evermore, and +nothing would persuade her to be touched by her mother’s hand. +She would shiver and say, “No, no, no,” when it was offered +at, and would hide her face on my shoulder, and hold me tighter round +the neck.</p> +<p>The Cheap Jack business had been worse than ever I had known it, +what with one thing and what with another (and not least with railroads, +which will cut it all to pieces, I expect, at last), and I was run dry +of money. For which reason, one night at that period of little +Sophy’s being so bad, either we must have come to a dead-lock +for victuals and drink, or I must have pitched the cart as I did.</p> +<p>I couldn’t get the dear child to lie down or leave go of me, +and indeed I hadn’t the heart to try, so I stepped out on the +footboard with her holding round my neck. They all set up a laugh +when they see us, and one chuckle-headed Joskin (that I hated for it) +made the bidding, “Tuppence for her!”</p> +<p>“Now, you country boobies,” says I, feeling as if my +heart was a heavy weight at the end of a broken sashline, “I give +you notice that I am a going to charm the money out of your pockets, +and to give you so much more than your money’s worth that you’ll +only persuade yourselves to draw your Saturday night’s wages ever +again arterwards by the hopes of meeting me to lay ’em out with, +which you never will, and why not? Because I’ve made my +fortunes by selling my goods on a large scale for seventy-five per cent. +less than I give for ’em, and I am consequently to be elevated +to the House of Peers next week, by the title of the Duke of Cheap and +Markis Jackaloorul. Now let’s know what you want to-night, +and you shall have it. But first of all, shall I tell you why +I have got this little girl round my neck? You don’t want +to know? Then you shall. She belongs to the Fairies. +She’s a fortune-teller. She can tell me all about you in +a whisper, and can put me up to whether you’re going to buy a +lot or leave it. Now do you want a saw? No, she says you +don’t, because you’re too clumsy to use one. Else +here’s a saw which would be a lifelong blessing to a handy man, +at four shillings, at three and six, at three, at two and six, at two, +at eighteen-pence. But none of you shall have it at any price, +on account of your well-known awkwardness, which would make it manslaughter. +The same objection applies to this set of three planes which I won’t +let you have neither, so don’t bid for ’em. Now I +am a going to ask her what you do want.” (Then I whispered, +“Your head burns so, that I am afraid it hurts you bad, my pet,” +and she answered, without opening her heavy eyes, “Just a little, +father.”) “O! This little fortune-teller says +it’s a memorandum-book you want. Then why didn’t you +mention it? Here it is. Look at it. Two hundred superfine +hot-pressed wire-wove pages—if you don’t believe me, count +’em—ready ruled for your expenses, an everlastingly pointed +pencil to put ’em down with, a double-bladed penknife to scratch +’em out with, a book of printed tables to calculate your income +with, and a camp-stool to sit down upon while you give your mind to +it! Stop! And an umbrella to keep the moon off when you +give your mind to it on a pitch-dark night. Now I won’t +ask you how much for the lot, but how little? How little are you +thinking of? Don’t be ashamed to mention it, because my +fortune-teller knows already.” (Then making believe to whisper, +I kissed her,—and she kissed me.) “Why, she says you +are thinking of as little as three and threepence! I couldn’t +have believed it, even of you, unless she told me. Three and threepence! +And a set of printed tables in the lot that’ll calculate your +income up to forty thousand a year! With an income of forty thousand +a year, you grudge three and sixpence. Well then, I’ll tell +you my opinion. I so despise the threepence, that I’d sooner +take three shillings. There. For three shillings, three +shillings, three shillings! Gone. Hand ’em over to +the lucky man.”</p> +<p>As there had been no bid at all, everybody looked about and grinned +at everybody, while I touched little Sophy’s face and asked her +if she felt faint, or giddy. “Not very, father. It +will soon be over.” Then turning from the pretty patient +eyes, which were opened now, and seeing nothing but grins across my +lighted grease-pot, I went on again in my Cheap Jack style. “Where’s +the butcher?” (My sorrowful eye had just caught sight of +a fat young butcher on the outside of the crowd.) “She says +the good luck is the butcher’s. Where is he?” +Everybody handed on the blushing butcher to the front, and there was +a roar, and the butcher felt himself obliged to put his hand in his +pocket, and take the lot. The party so picked out, in general, +does feel obliged to take the lot—good four times out of six. +Then we had another lot, the counterpart of that one, and sold it sixpence +cheaper, which is always wery much enjoyed. Then we had the spectacles. +It ain’t a special profitable lot, but I put ’em on, and +I see what the Chancellor of the Exchequer is going to take off the +taxes, and I see what the sweetheart of the young woman in the shawl +is doing at home, and I see what the Bishops has got for dinner, and +a deal more that seldom fails to fetch ’em ’up in their +spirits; and the better their spirits, the better their bids. +Then we had the ladies’ lot—the teapot, tea-caddy, glass +sugar-basin, half-a-dozen spoons, and caudle-cup—and all the time +I was making similar excuses to give a look or two and say a word or +two to my poor child. It was while the second ladies’ lot +was holding ’em enchained that I felt her lift herself a little +on my shoulder, to look across the dark street. “What troubles +you, darling?” “Nothing troubles me, father. +I am not at all troubled. But don’t I see a pretty churchyard +over there?” “Yes, my dear.” “Kiss +me twice, dear father, and lay me down to rest upon that churchyard +grass so soft and green.” I staggered back into the cart +with her head dropped on my shoulder, and I says to her mother, “Quick. +Shut the door! Don’t let those laughing people see!” +“What’s the matter?” she cries. “O woman, +woman,” I tells her, “you’ll never catch my little +Sophy by her hair again, for she has flown away from you!”</p> +<p>Maybe those were harder words than I meant ’em; but from that +time forth my wife took to brooding, and would sit in the cart or walk +beside it, hours at a stretch, with her arms crossed, and her eyes looking +on the ground. When her furies took her (which was rather seldomer +than before) they took her in a new way, and she banged herself about +to that extent that I was forced to hold her. She got none the +better for a little drink now and then, and through some years I used +to wonder, as I plodded along at the old horse’s head, whether +there was many carts upon the road that held so much dreariness as mine, +for all my being looked up to as the King of the Cheap Jacks. +So sad our lives went on till one summer evening, when, as we were coming +into Exeter, out of the farther West of England, we saw a woman beating +a child in a cruel manner, who screamed, “Don’t beat me! +O mother, mother, mother!” Then my wife stopped her ears, +and ran away like a wild thing, and next day she was found in the river.</p> +<p>Me and my dog were all the company left in the cart now; and the +dog learned to give a short bark when they wouldn’t bid, and to +give another and a nod of his head when I asked him, “Who said +half a crown? Are you the gentleman, sir, that offered half a +crown?” He attained to an immense height of popularity, +and I shall always believe taught himself entirely out of his own head +to growl at any person in the crowd that bid as low as sixpence. +But he got to be well on in years, and one night when I was conwulsing +York with the spectacles, he took a conwulsion on his own account upon +the very footboard by me, and it finished him.</p> +<p>Being naturally of a tender turn, I had dreadful lonely feelings +on me arter this. I conquered ’em at selling times, having +a reputation to keep (not to mention keeping myself), but they got me +down in private, and rolled upon me. That’s often the way +with us public characters. See us on the footboard, and you’d +give pretty well anything you possess to be us. See us off the +footboard, and you’d add a trifle to be off your bargain. +It was under those circumstances that I come acquainted with a giant. +I might have been too high to fall into conversation with him, had it +not been for my lonely feelings. For the general rule is, going +round the country, to draw the line at dressing up. When a man +can’t trust his getting a living to his undisguised abilities, +you consider him below your sort. And this giant when on view +figured as a Roman.</p> +<p>He was a languid young man, which I attribute to the distance betwixt +his extremities. He had a little head and less in it, he had weak +eyes and weak knees, and altogether you couldn’t look at him without +feeling that there was greatly too much of him both for his joints and +his mind. But he was an amiable though timid young man (his mother +let him out, and spent the money), and we come acquainted when he was +walking to ease the horse betwixt two fairs. He was called Rinaldo +di Velasco, his name being Pickleson.</p> +<p>This giant, otherwise Pickleson, mentioned to me under the seal of +confidence that, beyond his being a burden to himself, his life was +made a burden to him by the cruelty of his master towards a step-daughter +who was deaf and dumb. Her mother was dead, and she had no living +soul to take her part, and was used most hard. She travelled with +his master’s caravan only because there was nowhere to leave her, +and this giant, otherwise Pickleson, did go so far as to believe that +his master often tried to lose her. He was such a very languid +young man, that I don’t know how long it didn’t take him +to get this story out, but it passed through his defective circulation +to his top extremity in course of time.</p> +<p>When I heard this account from the giant, otherwise Pickleson, and +likewise that the poor girl had beautiful long dark hair, and was often +pulled down by it and beaten, I couldn’t see the giant through +what stood in my eyes. Having wiped ’em, I give him sixpence +(for he was kept as short as he was long), and he laid it out in two +three-penn’orths of gin-and-water, which so brisked him up, that +he sang the Favourite Comic of Shivery Shakey, ain’t it cold?—a +popular effect which his master had tried every other means to get out +of him as a Roman wholly in vain.</p> +<p>His master’s name was Mim, a wery hoarse man, and I knew him +to speak to. I went to that Fair as a mere civilian, leaving the +cart outside the town, and I looked about the back of the Vans while +the performing was going on, and at last, sitting dozing against a muddy +cart-wheel, I come upon the poor girl who was deaf and dumb. At +the first look I might almost have judged that she had escaped from +the Wild Beast Show; but at the second I thought better of her, and +thought that if she was more cared for and more kindly used she would +be like my child. She was just the same age that my own daughter +would have been, if her pretty head had not fell down upon my shoulder +that unfortunate night.</p> +<p>To cut it short, I spoke confidential to Mim while he was beating +the gong outside betwixt two lots of Pickleson’s publics, and +I put it to him, “She lies heavy on your own hands; what’ll +you take for her?” Mim was a most ferocious swearer. +Suppressing that part of his reply which was much the longest part, +his reply was, “A pair of braces.” “Now I’ll +tell you,” says I, “what I’m a going to do with you. +I’m a going to fetch you half-a-dozen pair of the primest braces +in the cart, and then to take her away with me.” Says Mim +(again ferocious), “I’ll believe it when I’ve got +the goods, and no sooner.” I made all the haste I could, +lest he should think twice of it, and the bargain was completed, which +Pickleson he was thereby so relieved in his mind that he come out at +his little back door, longways like a serpent, and give us Shivery Shakey +in a whisper among the wheels at parting.</p> +<p>It was happy days for both of us when Sophy and me began to travel +in the cart. I at once give her the name of Sophy, to put her +ever towards me in the attitude of my own daughter. We soon made +out to begin to understand one another, through the goodness of the +Heavens, when she knowed that I meant true and kind by her. In +a very little time she was wonderful fond of me. You have no idea +what it is to have anybody wonderful fond of you, unless you have been +got down and rolled upon by the lonely feelings that I have mentioned +as having once got the better of me.</p> +<p>You’d have laughed—or the rewerse—it’s according +to your disposition—if you could have seen me trying to teach +Sophy. At first I was helped—you’d never guess by +what—milestones. I got some large alphabets in a box, all +the letters separate on bits of bone, and saying we was going to WINDSOR, +I give her those letters in that order, and then at every milestone +I showed her those same letters in that same order again, and pointed +towards the abode of royalty. Another time I give her CART, and +then chalked the same upon the cart. Another time I give her DOCTOR +MARIGOLD, and hung a corresponding inscription outside my waistcoat. +People that met us might stare a bit and laugh, but what did <i>I</i> +care, if she caught the idea? She caught it after long patience +and trouble, and then we did begin to get on swimmingly, I believe you! +At first she was a little given to consider me the cart, and the cart +the abode of royalty, but that soon wore off.</p> +<p>We had our signs, too, and they was hundreds in number. Sometimes +she would sit looking at me and considering hard how to communicate +with me about something fresh,—how to ask me what she wanted explained,—and +then she was (or I thought she was; what does it signify?) so like my +child with those years added to her, that I half-believed it was herself, +trying to tell me where she had been to up in the skies, and what she +had seen since that unhappy night when she flied away. She had +a pretty face, and now that there was no one to drag at her bright dark +hair, and it was all in order, there was a something touching in her +looks that made the cart most peaceful and most quiet, though not at +all melancholy. [N.B. In the Cheap Jack patter, we generally +sound it lemonjolly, and it gets a laugh.]</p> +<p>The way she learnt to understand any look of mine was truly surprising. +When I sold of a night, she would sit in the cart unseen by them outside, +and would give a eager look into my eyes when I looked in, and would +hand me straight the precise article or articles I wanted. And +then she would clap her hands, and laugh for joy. And as for me, +seeing her so bright, and remembering what she was when I first lighted +on her, starved and beaten and ragged, leaning asleep against the muddy +cart-wheel, it give me such heart that I gained a greater heighth of +reputation than ever, and I put Pickleson down (by the name of Mim’s +Travelling Giant otherwise Pickleson) for a fypunnote in my will.</p> +<p>This happiness went on in the cart till she was sixteen year old. +By which time I began to feel not satisfied that I had done my whole +duty by her, and to consider that she ought to have better teaching +than I could give her. It drew a many tears on both sides when +I commenced explaining my views to her; but what’s right is right, +and you can’t neither by tears nor laughter do away with its character.</p> +<p>So I took her hand in mine, and I went with her one day to the Deaf +and Dumb Establishment in London, and when the gentleman come to speak +to us, I says to him: “Now I’ll tell you what I’ll +do with you, sir. I am nothing but a Cheap Jack, but of late years +I have laid by for a rainy day notwithstanding. This is my only +daughter (adopted), and you can’t produce a deafer nor a dumber. +Teach her the most that can be taught her in the shortest separation +that can be named,—state the figure for it,—and I am game +to put the money down. I won’t bate you a single farthing, +sir, but I’ll put down the money here and now, and I’ll +thankfully throw you in a pound to take it. There!” +The gentleman smiled, and then, “Well, well,” says he, “I +must first know what she has learned already. How do you communicate +with her?” Then I showed him, and she wrote in printed writing +many names of things and so forth; and we held some sprightly conversation, +Sophy and me, about a little story in a book which the gentleman showed +her, and which she was able to read. “This is most extraordinary,” +says the gentleman; “is it possible that you have been her only +teacher?” “I have been her only teacher, sir,” +I says, “besides herself.” “Then,” says +the gentleman, and more acceptable words was never spoke to me, “you’re +a clever fellow, and a good fellow.” This he makes known +to Sophy, who kisses his hands, claps her own, and laughs and cries +upon it.</p> +<p>We saw the gentleman four times in all, and when he took down my +name and asked how in the world it ever chanced to be Doctor, it come +out that he was own nephew by the sister’s side, if you’ll +believe me, to the very Doctor that I was called after. This made +our footing still easier, and he says to me:</p> +<p>“Now, Marigold, tell me what more do you want your adopted +daughter to know?”</p> +<p>“I want her, sir, to be cut off from the world as little as +can be, considering her deprivations, and therefore to be able to read +whatever is wrote with perfect ease and pleasure.”</p> +<p>“My good fellow,” urges the gentleman, opening his eyes +wide, “why <i>I</i> can’t do that myself!”</p> +<p>I took his joke, and gave him a laugh (knowing by experience how +flat you fall without it), and I mended my words accordingly.</p> +<p>“What do you mean to do with her afterwards?” asks the +gentleman, with a sort of a doubtful eye. “To take her about +the country?”</p> +<p>“In the cart, sir, but only in the cart. She will live +a private life, you understand, in the cart. I should never think +of bringing her infirmities before the public. I wouldn’t +make a show of her for any money.”</p> +<p>The gentleman nodded, and seemed to approve.</p> +<p>“Well,” says he, “can you part with her for two +years?”</p> +<p>“To do her that good,—yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“There’s another question,” says the gentleman, +looking towards her,—“can she part with you for two years?”</p> +<p>I don’t know that it was a harder matter of itself (for the +other was hard enough to me), but it was harder to get over. However, +she was pacified to it at last, and the separation betwixt us was settled. +How it cut up both of us when it took place, and when I left her at +the door in the dark of an evening, I don’t tell. But I +know this; remembering that night, I shall never pass that same establishment +without a heartache and a swelling in the throat; and I couldn’t +put you up the best of lots in sight of it with my usual spirit,—no, +not even the gun, nor the pair of spectacles,—for five hundred +pound reward from the Secretary of State for the Home Department, and +throw in the honour of putting my legs under his mahogany arterwards.</p> +<p>Still, the loneliness that followed in the cart was not the old loneliness, +because there was a term put to it, however long to look forward to; +and because I could think, when I was anyways down, that she belonged +to me and I belonged to her. Always planning for her coming back, +I bought in a few months’ time another cart, and what do you think +I planned to do with it? I’ll tell you. I planned +to fit it up with shelves and books for her reading, and to have a seat +in it where I could sit and see her read, and think that I had been +her first teacher. Not hurrying over the job, I had the fittings +knocked together in contriving ways under my own inspection, and here +was her bed in a berth with curtains, and there was her reading-table, +and here was her writing-desk, and elsewhere was her books in rows upon +rows, picters and no picters, bindings and no bindings, gilt-edged and +plain, just as I could pick ’em up for her in lots up and down +the country, North and South and West and East, Winds liked best and +winds liked least, Here and there and gone astray, Over the hills and +far away. And when I had got together pretty well as many books +as the cart would neatly hold, a new scheme come into my head, which, +as it turned out, kept my time and attention a good deal employed, and +helped me over the two years’ stile.</p> +<p>Without being of an awaricious temper, I like to be the owner of +things. I shouldn’t wish, for instance, to go partners with +yourself in the Cheap Jack cart. It’s not that I mistrust +you, but that I’d rather know it was mine. Similarly, very +likely you’d rather know it was yours. Well! A kind +of a jealousy began to creep into my mind when I reflected that all +those books would have been read by other people long before they was +read by her. It seemed to take away from her being the owner of +’em like. In this way, the question got into my head: Couldn’t +I have a book new-made express for her, which she should be the first +to read?</p> +<p>It pleased me, that thought did; and as I never was a man to let +a thought sleep (you must wake up all the whole family of thoughts you’ve +got and burn their nightcaps, or you won’t do in the Cheap Jack +line), I set to work at it. Considering that I was in the habit +of changing so much about the country, and that I should have to find +out a literary character here to make a deal with, and another literary +character there to make a deal with, as opportunities presented, I hit +on the plan that this same book should be a general miscellaneous lot,—like +the razors, flat-iron, chronometer watch, dinner plates, rolling-pin, +and looking-glass,—and shouldn’t be offered as a single +indiwidual article, like the spectacles or the gun. When I had +come to that conclusion, I come to another, which shall likewise be +yours.</p> +<p>Often had I regretted that she never had heard me on the footboard, +and that she never could hear me. It ain’t that <i>I</i> +am vain, but that <i>you</i> don’t like to put your own light +under a bushel. What’s the worth of your reputation, if +you can’t convey the reason for it to the person you most wish +to value it? Now I’ll put it to you. Is it worth sixpence, +fippence, fourpence, threepence, twopence, a penny, a halfpenny, a farthing? +No, it ain’t. Not worth a farthing. Very well, then. +My conclusion was that I would begin her book with some account of myself. +So that, through reading a specimen or two of me on the footboard, she +might form an idea of my merits there. I was aware that I couldn’t +do myself justice. A man can’t write his eye (at least <i>I</i> +don’t know how to), nor yet can a man write his voice, nor the +rate of his talk, nor the quickness of his action, nor his general spicy +way. But he can write his turns of speech, when he is a public +speaker,—and indeed I have heard that he very often does, before +he speaks ’em.</p> +<p>Well! Having formed that resolution, then come the question +of a name. How did I hammer that hot iron into shape? This +way. The most difficult explanation I had ever had with her was, +how I come to be called Doctor, and yet was no Doctor. After all, +I felt that I had failed of getting it correctly into her mind, with +my utmost pains. But trusting to her improvement in the two years, +I thought that I might trust to her understanding it when she should +come to read it as put down by my own hand. Then I thought I would +try a joke with her and watch how it took, by which of itself I might +fully judge of her understanding it. We had first discovered the +mistake we had dropped into, through her having asked me to prescribe +for her when she had supposed me to be a Doctor in a medical point of +view; so thinks I, “Now, if I give this book the name of my Prescriptions, +and if she catches the idea that my only Prescriptions are for her amusement +and interest,—to make her laugh in a pleasant way, or to make +her cry in a pleasant way,—it will be a delightful proof to both +of us that we have got over our difficulty.” It fell out +to absolute perfection. For when she saw the book, as I had it +got up,—the printed and pressed book,—lying on her desk +in her cart, and saw the title, DOCTOR MARIGOLD’S PRESCRIPTIONS, +she looked at me for a moment with astonishment, then fluttered the +leaves, then broke out a laughing in the charmingest way, then felt +her pulse and shook her head, then turned the pages pretending to read +them most attentive, then kissed the book to me, and put it to her bosom +with both her hands. I never was better pleased in all my life!</p> +<p>But let me not anticipate. (I take that expression out of a +lot of romances I bought for her. I never opened a single one +of ’em—and I have opened many—but I found the romancer +saying “let me not anticipate.” Which being so, I +wonder why he did anticipate, or who asked him to it.) Let me +not, I say, anticipate. This same book took up all my spare time. +It was no play to get the other articles together in the general miscellaneous +lot, but when it come to my own article! There! I couldn’t +have believed the blotting, nor yet the buckling to at it, nor the patience +over it. Which again is like the footboard. The public have +no idea.</p> +<p>At last it was done, and the two years’ time was gone after +all the other time before it, and where it’s all gone to, who +knows? The new cart was finished,—yellow outside, relieved +with wermilion and brass fittings,—the old horse was put in it, +a new ’un and a boy being laid on for the Cheap Jack cart,—and +I cleaned myself up to go and fetch her. Bright cold weather it +was, cart-chimneys smoking, carts pitched private on a piece of waste +ground over at Wandsworth, where you may see ’em from the Sou’western +Railway when not upon the road. (Look out of the right-hand window +going down.)</p> +<p>“Marigold,” says the gentleman, giving his hand hearty, +“I am very glad to see you.”</p> +<p>“Yet I have my doubts, sir,” says I, “if you can +be half as glad to see me as I am to see you.”</p> +<p>“The time has appeared so long,—has it, Marigold?”</p> +<p>“I won’t say that, sir, considering its real length; +but—”</p> +<p>“What a start, my good fellow!”</p> +<p>Ah! I should think it was! Grown such a woman, so pretty, +so intelligent, so expressive! I knew then that she must be really +like my child, or I could never have known her, standing quiet by the +door.</p> +<p>“You are affected,” says the gentleman in a kindly manner.</p> +<p>“I feel, sir,” says I, “that I am but a rough chap +in a sleeved waistcoat.”</p> +<p>“I feel,” says the gentleman, “that it was you +who raised her from misery and degradation, and brought her into communication +with her kind. But why do we converse alone together, when we +can converse so well with her? Address her in your own way.”</p> +<p>“I am such a rough chap in a sleeved waistcoat, sir,” +says I, “and she is such a graceful woman, and she stands so quiet +at the door!”</p> +<p>“<i>Try</i> if she moves at the old sign,” says the gentleman.</p> +<p>They had got it up together o’ purpose to please me! +For when I give her the old sign, she rushed to my feet, and dropped +upon her knees, holding up her hands to me with pouring tears of love +and joy; and when I took her hands and lifted her, she clasped me round +the neck, and lay there; and I don’t know what a fool I didn’t +make of myself, until we all three settled down into talking without +sound, as if there was a something soft and pleasant spread over the +whole world for us.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>[A portion is here omitted from the text, having reference to the +sketches contributed by other writers; but the reader will be pleased +to have what follows retained in a note:</p> +<p>“Now I’ll tell you what I am a-going to do with you. +I am a-going to offer you the general miscellaneous lot, her own book, +never read by anybody else but me, added to and completed by me after +her first reading of it, eight-and-forty printed pages, six-and-ninety +columns, Whiting’s own work, Beaufort House to wit, thrown off +by the steam-ingine, best of paper, beautiful green wrapper, folded +like clean linen come home from the clear-starcher’s, and so exquisitely +stitched that, regarded as a piece of needlework alone, it’s better +than the sampler of a seamstress undergoing a Competitive examination +for Starvation before the Civil Service Commissioners—and I offer +the lot for what? For eight pound? Not so much. For +six pound? Less. For four pound. Why, I hardly expect +you to believe me, but that’s the sum. Four pound! +The stitching alone cost half as much again. Here’s forty-eight +original pages, ninety-six original columns, for four pound. You +want more for the money? Take it. Three whole pages of advertisements +of thrilling interest thrown in for nothing. Read ’em and +believe ’em. More? My best of wishes for your merry +Christmases and your happy New Years, your long lives and your true +prosperities. Worth twenty pound good if they are delivered as +I send them. Remember! Here’s a final prescription +added, “To be taken for life,” which will tell you how the +cart broke down, and where the journey ended. You think Four Pound +too much? And still you think so? Come! I’ll +tell you what then. Say Four Pence, and keep the secret.”]</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>So every item of my plan was crowned with success. Our reunited +life was more than all that we had looked forward to. Content +and joy went with us as the wheels of the two carts went round, and +the same stopped with us when the two carts stopped. I was as +pleased and as proud as a Pug-Dog with his muzzle black-leaded for a +evening party, and his tail extra curled by machinery.</p> +<p>But I had left something out of my calculations. Now, what +had I left out? To help you to guess I’ll say, a figure. +Come. Make a guess and guess right. Nought? No. +Nine? No. Eight? No. Seven? No. +Six? No. Five? No. Four? No. Three? +No. Two? No. One? No. Now I’ll tell +you what I’ll do with you. I’ll say it’s another +sort of figure altogether. There. Why then, says you, it’s +a mortal figure. No, nor yet a mortal figure. By such means +you got yourself penned into a corner, and you can’t help guessing +a <i>im</i>mortal figure. That’s about it. Why didn’t +you say so sooner?</p> +<p>Yes. It was a immortal figure that I had altogether left out +of my Calculations. Neither man’s, nor woman’s, but +a child’s. Girl’s or boy’s? Boy’s. +“I, says the sparrow with my bow and arrow.” Now you +have got it.</p> +<p>We were down at Lancaster, and I had done two nights more than fair +average business (though I cannot in honour recommend them as a quick +audience) in the open square there, near the end of the street where +Mr. Sly’s King’s Arms and Royal Hotel stands. Mim’s +travelling giant, otherwise Pickleson, happened at the self-same time +to be trying it on in the town. The genteel lay was adopted with +him. No hint of a van. Green baize alcove leading up to +Pickleson in a Auction Room. Printed poster, “Free list +suspended, with the exception of that proud boast of an enlightened +country, a free press. Schools admitted by private arrangement. +Nothing to raise a blush in the cheek of youth or shock the most fastidious.” +Mim swearing most horrible and terrific, in a pink calico pay-place, +at the slackness of the public. Serious handbill in the shops, +importing that it was all but impossible to come to a right understanding +of the history of David without seeing Pickleson.</p> +<p>I went to the Auction Room in question, and I found it entirely empty +of everything but echoes and mouldiness, with the single exception of +Pickleson on a piece of red drugget. This suited my purpose, as +I wanted a private and confidential word with him, which was: “Pickleson. +Owing much happiness to you, I put you in my will for a fypunnote; but, +to save trouble, here’s fourpunten down, which may equally suit +your views, and let us so conclude the transaction.” Pickleson, +who up to that remark had had the dejected appearance of a long Roman +rushlight that couldn’t anyhow get lighted, brightened up at his +top extremity, and made his acknowledgments in a way which (for him) +was parliamentary eloquence. He likewise did add, that, having +ceased to draw as a Roman, Mim had made proposals for his going in as +a conwerted Indian Giant worked upon by The Dairyman’s Daughter. +This, Pickleson, having no acquaintance with the tract named after that +young woman, and not being willing to couple gag with his serious views, +had declined to do, thereby leading to words and the total stoppage +of the unfortunate young man’s beer. All of which, during +the whole of the interview, was confirmed by the ferocious growling +of Mim down below in the pay-place, which shook the giant like a leaf.</p> +<p>But what was to the present point in the remarks of the travelling +giant, otherwise Pickleson, was this: “Doctor Marigold,”—I +give his words without a hope of conweying their feebleness,—“who +is the strange young man that hangs about your carts?”—“The +strange young <i>man</i>?” I gives him back, thinking that +he meant her, and his languid circulation had dropped a syllable. +“Doctor,” he returns, with a pathos calculated to draw a +tear from even a manly eye, “I am weak, but not so weak yet as +that I don’t know my words. I repeat them, Doctor. +The strange young man.” It then appeared that Pickleson, +being forced to stretch his legs (not that they wanted it) only at times +when he couldn’t be seen for nothing, to wit in the dead of the +night and towards daybreak, had twice seen hanging about my carts, in +that same town of Lancaster where I had been only two nights, this same +unknown young man.</p> +<p>It put me rather out of sorts. What it meant as to particulars +I no more foreboded then than you forebode now, but it put me rather +out of sorts. Howsoever, I made light of it to Pickleson, and +I took leave of Pickleson, advising him to spend his legacy in getting +up his stamina, and to continue to stand by his religion. Towards +morning I kept a look out for the strange young man, and—what +was more—I saw the strange young man. He was well dressed +and well looking. He loitered very nigh my carts, watching them +like as if he was taking care of them, and soon after daybreak turned +and went away. I sent a hail after him, but he never started or +looked round, or took the smallest notice.</p> +<p>We left Lancaster within an hour or two, on our way towards Carlisle. +Next morning, at daybreak, I looked out again for the strange young +man. I did not see him. But next morning I looked out again, +and there he was once more. I sent another hail after him, but +as before he gave not the slightest sign of being anyways disturbed. +This put a thought into my head. Acting on it I watched him in +different manners and at different times not necessary to enter into, +till I found that this strange young man was deaf and dumb.</p> +<p>The discovery turned me over, because I knew that a part of that +establishment where she had been was allotted to young men (some of +them well off), and I thought to myself, “If she favours him, +where am I? and where is all that I have worked and planned for?” +Hoping—I must confess to the selfishness—that she might +<i>not</i> favour him, I set myself to find out. At last I was +by accident present at a meeting between them in the open air, looking +on leaning behind a fir-tree without their knowing of it. It was +a moving meeting for all the three parties concerned. I knew every +syllable that passed between them as well as they did. I listened +with my eyes, which had come to be as quick and true with deaf and dumb +conversation as my ears with the talk of people that can speak. +He was a-going out to China as clerk in a merchant’s house, which +his father had been before him. He was in circumstances to keep +a wife, and he wanted her to marry him and go along with him. +She persisted, no. He asked if she didn’t love him. +Yes, she loved him dearly, dearly; but she could never disappoint her +beloved, good, noble, generous, and I-don’t-know-what-all father +(meaning me, the Cheap Jack in the sleeved waistcoat) and she would +stay with him, Heaven bless him! though it was to break her heart. +Then she cried most bitterly, and that made up my mind.</p> +<p>While my mind had been in an unsettled state about her favouring +this young man, I had felt that unreasonable towards Pickleson, that +it was well for him he had got his legacy down. For I often thought, +“If it hadn’t been for this same weak-minded giant, I might +never have come to trouble my head and wex my soul about the young man.” +But, once that I knew she loved him,—once that I had seen her +weep for him,—it was a different thing. I made it right +in my mind with Pickleson on the spot, and I shook myself together to +do what was right by all.</p> +<p>She had left the young man by that time (for it took a few minutes +to get me thoroughly well shook together), and the young man was leaning +against another of the fir-trees,—of which there was a cluster,—with +his face upon his arm. I touched him on the back. Looking +up and seeing me, he says, in our deaf-and-dumb talk, “Do not +be angry.”</p> +<p>“I am not angry, good boy. I am your friend. Come +with me.”</p> +<p>I left him at the foot of the steps of the Library Cart, and I went +up alone. She was drying her eyes.</p> +<p>“You have been crying, my dear.”</p> +<p>“Yes, father.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“A headache.”</p> +<p>“Not a heartache?”</p> +<p>“I said a headache, father.”</p> +<p>“Doctor Marigold must prescribe for that headache.”</p> +<p>She took up the book of my Prescriptions, and held it up with a forced +smile; but seeing me keep still and look earnest, she softly laid it +down again, and her eyes were very attentive.</p> +<p>“The Prescription is not there, Sophy.”</p> +<p>“Where is it?”</p> +<p>“Here, my dear.”</p> +<p>I brought her young husband in, and I put her hand in his, and my +only farther words to both of them were these: “Doctor Marigold’s +last Prescription. To be taken for life.” After which +I bolted.</p> +<p>When the wedding come off, I mounted a coat (blue, and bright buttons), +for the first and last time in all my days, and I give Sophy away with +my own hand. There were only us three and the gentleman who had +had charge of her for those two years. I give the wedding dinner +of four in the Library Cart. Pigeon-pie, a leg of pickled pork, +a pair of fowls, and suitable garden stuff. The best of drinks. +I give them a speech, and the gentleman give us a speech, and all our +jokes told, and the whole went off like a sky-rocket. In the course +of the entertainment I explained to Sophy that I should keep the Library +Cart as my living-cart when not upon the road, and that I should keep +all her books for her just as they stood, till she come back to claim +them. So she went to China with her young husband, and it was +a parting sorrowful and heavy, and I got the boy I had another service; +and so as of old, when my child and wife were gone, I went plodding +along alone, with my whip over my shoulder, at the old horse’s +head.</p> +<p>Sophy wrote me many letters, and I wrote her many letters. +About the end of the first year she sent me one in an unsteady hand: +“Dearest father, not a week ago I had a darling little daughter, +but I am so well that they let me write these words to you. Dearest +and best father, I hope my child may not be deaf and dumb, but I do +not yet know.” When I wrote back, I hinted the question; +but as Sophy never answered that question, I felt it to be a sad one, +and I never repeated it. For a long time our letters were regular, +but then they got irregular, through Sophy’s husband being moved +to another station, and through my being always on the move. But +we were in one another’s thoughts, I was equally sure, letters +or no letters.</p> +<p>Five years, odd months, had gone since Sophy went away. I was +still the King of the Cheap Jacks, and at a greater height of popularity +than ever. I had had a first-rate autumn of it, and on the twenty-third +of December, one thousand eight hundred and sixty-four, I found myself +at Uxbridge, Middlesex, clean sold out. So I jogged up to London +with the old horse, light and easy, to have my Christmas-eve and Christmas-day +alone by the fire in the Library Cart, and then to buy a regular new +stock of goods all round, to sell ’em again and get the money.</p> +<p>I am a neat hand at cookery, and I’ll tell you what I knocked +up for my Christmas-eve dinner in the Library Cart. I knocked +up a beefsteak-pudding for one, with two kidneys, a dozen oysters, and +a couple of mushrooms thrown in. It’s a pudding to put a +man in good humour with everything, except the two bottom buttons of +his waistcoat. Having relished that pudding and cleared away, +I turned the lamp low, and sat down by the light of the fire, watching +it as it shone upon the backs of Sophy’s books.</p> +<p>Sophy’s books so brought Sophy’s self, that I saw her +touching face quite plainly, before I dropped off dozing by the fire. +This may be a reason why Sophy, with her deaf-and-dumb child in her +arms, seemed to stand silent by me all through my nap. I was on +the road, off the road, in all sorts of places, North and South and +West and East, Winds liked best and winds liked least, Here and there +and gone astray, Over the hills and far away, and still she stood silent +by me, with her silent child in her arms. Even when I woke with +a start, she seemed to vanish, as if she had stood by me in that very +place only a single instant before.</p> +<p>I had started at a real sound, and the sound was on the steps of +the cart. It was the light hurried tread of a child, coming clambering +up. That tread of a child had once been so familiar to me, that +for half a moment I believed I was a-going to see a little ghost.</p> +<p>But the touch of a real child was laid upon the outer handle of the +door, and the handle turned, and the door opened a little way, and a +real child peeped in. A bright little comely girl with large dark +eyes.</p> +<p>Looking full at me, the tiny creature took off her mite of a straw +hat, and a quantity of dark curls fell about her face. Then she +opened her lips, and said in a pretty voice,</p> +<p>“Grandfather!”</p> +<p>“Ah, my God!” I cries out. “She can speak!”</p> +<p>“Yes, dear grandfather. And I am to ask you whether there +was ever any one that I remind you of?”</p> +<p>In a moment Sophy was round my neck, as well as the child, and her +husband was a-wringing my hand with his face hid, and we all had to +shake ourselves together before we could get over it. And when +we did begin to get over it, and I saw the pretty child a-talking, pleased +and quick and eager and busy, to her mother, in the signs that I had +first taught her mother, the happy and yet pitying tears fell rolling +down my face.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DOCTOR MARIGOLD***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 1415-h.htm or 1415-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/1/1415 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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