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diff --git a/32241-h/32241-h.htm b/32241-h/32241-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e19007e --- /dev/null +++ b/32241-h/32241-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10368 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child Can Read, by Charles Dickens</title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 80%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .pageref {text-align: right; font-size: 80%;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child +Can Read, by Charles Dickens, Edited by Jesse Lyman Hurlbut</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child Can Read</p> +<p>Author: Charles Dickens</p> +<p>Editor: Jesse Lyman Hurlbut</p> +<p>Release Date: May 3, 2010 [eBook #32241]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICKENS' STORIES ABOUT CHILDREN EVERY CHILD CAN READ***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by Emmy, Tor Martin Kristiansen,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net/c/">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by<br /> + Internet Archive<br /> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org/">http://www.archive.org</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/dickensstoriesab00dick"> + http://www.archive.org/details/dickensstoriesab00dick</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 317px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="317" height="500" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/frontend.jpg" width="600" height="458" alt="endpapers" title="" /> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;"><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="349" height="500" alt="CHARLES DICKENS." title="" /> +<span class="caption">CHARLES DICKENS.</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 370px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="370" height="600" alt="Title page" title="" /> +</div> +<h1><span class="smcap">Dickens' Stories</span></h1> + +<h3>ABOUT</h3> + +<h1><span class="smcap">Children</span></h1> + + + +<h3>EVERY CHILD CAN READ</h3> + + + +<h3>EDITED BY</h3> + +<h2>REV. JESSE LYMAN HURLBUT, D.D.</h2> + +<div class='center'>ILLUSTRATED<br /> +<br /><br /> +EVERY CHILD'S LIBRARY<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.<br /> +PHILADELPHIA</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1909, By<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The John C. Winston Co.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<div class='unindent'><span class="smcap">To the Young Reader:</span></div> + +<p>Charles Dickens was one of the greatest among +the many story-writers of "the Victorian age;" +that is, the middle and latter part of the Nineteenth +Century, when Victoria was Queen of +Great Britain. Perhaps he was the greatest of +them all for now, a generation after he passed +away, more people read the stories of Dickens +than those by any other author of that period. +In those wonderful writings are found many pictures +of child-life connected with the plan of the +novels or stories. These child-stories have been +taken out of their connections and are told by +themselves in this volume. By and by you will +read for yourselves, "The Christmas Carol," +"The Chimes," "David Copperfield," "The Old +Curiosity Shop," and the other great books by +that fascinating writer, who saw people whom +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>nobody else ever saw, and made them real. When +you read those books you will meet again these +charming children, and will remember them as +the friends of your childhood.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Jesse L. Hurlbut.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Trotty Veck and Meg.</span> <i>From "The Chimes"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tiny Tim.</span> <i>From "Christmas Carol"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Runaway Couple.</span> <i>From "The Holly-Tree Inn"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little Dorrit.</span> <i>From "Little Dorrit"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Toy-Maker and His Blind Daughter.</span> <i>From "Cricket on the Hearth"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little Nell.</span> <i>From "The Old Curiosity Shop"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little David Copperfield.</span> <i>From "David Copperfield"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jenny Wren.</span> <i>From "Our Mutual Friend"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pip's Adventure.</span> <i>From "Great Expectations"</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Todgers'</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Dick Swiveller and the Marchioness</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Wardle's Servant Joe</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Brave and Honest Boy, Oliver Twist</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span></td><td align='right'><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">They Broke in Like a Grace, My Dear.</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Mr. Clennam Followed Her Home.</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Little Nell and Her Grandfather</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">David Copperfield and Little Em'ly</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Seated on the Crystal Carpet Were Two Girls</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Keep Still, You Little Imp, or I'll Cut Your Throat.</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Mr. Tupman, We are Observed!</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> +<h2>I.</h2> + +<h3>TROTTY VECK AND HIS DAUGHTER MEG.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>"TROTTY" seems a strange name for an +old man, but it was given to Toby +Veck because of his always going at +a trot to do his errands; for he was a ticket porter +or messenger and his office was to take letters and +messages for people who were in too great a hurry +to send them by post, which in those days was +neither so cheap nor so quick as it is now. He +did not earn very much, and had to be out in +all weathers and all day long. But Toby was of +a cheerful disposition, and looked on the bright +side of everything, and was grateful for any small +mercies that came in his way; and so was happier +than many people who never knew what it +is to be hungry or in want of comforts. His +greatest joy was his dear, bright, pretty daughter +Meg, who loved him dearly.</div> + +<p>One cold day, near the end of the year, Toby had +been waiting a long time for a job, trotting up and +down in his usual place before the church, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +trying hard to keep himself warm, when the bells +chimed twelve o'clock, which made Toby think of +dinner.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing," he remarked, carefully +feeling his nose to make sure it was still there, +"more regular in coming round than dinner-time, +and nothing less regular in coming round than dinner. +That's the great difference between 'em." +He went on talking to himself, trotting up and +down, and never noticing who was coming near +to him.</p> + +<p>"Why, father, father," said a pleasant voice, +and Toby turned to find his daughter's sweet, +bright eyes close to his.</p> + +<p>"Why, pet," said he, kissing her and squeezing +her blooming face between his hands, "what's +to-do? I didn't expect you to-day, Meg."</p> + +<p>"Neither did I expect to come, father," said +Meg, nodding and smiling. "But here I am! +And not alone, not alone!"</p> + +<p>"Why you don't mean to say," observed Trotty, +looking curiously at the covered basket she +carried, "that you——"</p> + +<p>"Smell it, father dear," said Meg. "Only +smell it!"</p> + +<p>Trotty was going to lift up the cover at once, +in a great hurry, when she gaily interposed her hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, no, no," said Meg, with the glee of a child. +"Lengthen it out a little. Let me just lift up the +corner; just a lit-tle, ti-ny cor-ner, you know," +said Meg, suiting the action to the word with the +utmost gentleness, and speaking very softly, as +if she were afraid of being overheard by something +inside the basket. "There, now; what's +that?"</p> + +<p>Toby took the shortest possible sniff at the edge +of the basket, and cried out in rapture:</p> + +<p>"Why, it's hot," he said.</p> + +<p>But to Meg's great delight he could not guess +what it was that smelt so good.</p> + +<p>"Polonies? Trotters? Liver? Pigs' feet? +Sausages?" he tried one after the other. At last +he exclaimed in triumph. "Why, what am I +a-thinking of? It's tripe."</p> + +<p>And it was.</p> + +<p>"And so," said Meg, "I'll lay the cloth at once, +father; for I have brought the tripe in a basin, and +tied the basin up in a pocket-handkerchief; and +if I like to be proud for once, and spread that for +a cloth, and call it a cloth, there's nobody to prevent +me, is there father?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of, my dear," said Toby; "but +they're always a-bringing up some new law or +other."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And according to what I was reading you in +the paper the other day, father, what the judge +said, you know, we poor people are supposed to +know them all. Ha, ha! What a mistake! My +goodness me, how clever they think us!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear," cried Trotty; "and they'd be +very fond of any one of us that <i>did</i> know 'em all. +He'd grow fat upon the work he'd get, that man, +and be popular with the gentlefolks in his neighborhood. +Very much so!"</p> + +<p>"He'd eat his dinner with an appetite, whoever +he was, if it smelt like this," said Meg cheerfully. +"Make haste, for there's a hot potato besides, and +half a pint of fresh-drawn beer in a bottle. Where +will you dine, father—on the post or on the steps? +Dear, dear, how grand we are! Two places to +choose from!"</p> + +<p>"The steps to-day, my pet," said Trotty. +"Steps in dry weather, post in wet. There's +greater conveniency in the steps at all times, +because of the sitting down; but they're rheumatic +in the damp."</p> + +<p>"Then, here," said Meg, clapping her hands +after a moment's bustle; "here it is all ready! +And beautiful it looks! Come, father. Come!"</p> + + + +<p>And just as Toby was about to sit down to +his dinner on the door-steps of a big house close<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +by, the chimes rang out again, and Toby took +off his hat and said, "Amen."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-022.jpg" width="500" height="328" alt=""They Broke in Like a Grace, My Dear." Page 13" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"They Broke in Like a Grace, My Dear."</span><br /><div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_13">Page 13</a></div> +</div> + +<p>"Amen to the bells, father?"</p> + +<p>"They broke in like a grace, my dear," said +Trotty; "they'd say a good one if they could, I'm +sure. Many's the kind thing they say to me. +How often have I heard them bells say, 'Toby +Veck, keep a good heart, Toby!' A million +times? More!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I never!" cried Meg.</p> + +<p>"When things is very bad, then it's 'Toby +Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby!'"</p> + +<p>"And it comes—at last, father," said Meg, +with a touch of sadness in her pleasant voice.</p> + +<p>"Always," answered Toby. "Never fails."</p> + +<p>While this discourse was holding, Trotty made +no pause in his attack upon the savory meat +before him, but cut and ate, and cut and drank, +and cut and chewed, and dodged about from tripe +to hot potato, and from hot potato back again to +tripe, with an unfailing relish. But happening +now to look all round the street—in case anybody +should be beckoning from any door or window for +a porter—his eyes, in coming back again, saw +Meg sitting opposite him, with her arms folded, +and only busy in watching his dinner with a smile +of happiness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, Lord forgive me!" said Trotty, dropping +his knife and fork. "My dove! Meg! why didn't +you tell me what a beast I was?"</p> + +<p>"Father!"</p> + +<p>"Sitting here," said Trotty, in a sorrowful +manner, "cramming, and stuffing, and gorging +myself, and you before me there, never so much +as breaking your precious fast, nor wanting to, +when——"</p> + +<p>"But I have broken it, father," interposed his +daughter, laughing, "all to bits. I have had my +dinner."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said Trotty. "Two dinners in one +day! It ain't possible! You might as well tell +me that two New Year's days will come together, +or that I have had a gold head all my life, and +never changed it."</p> + +<p>"I have had my dinner, father, for all that," +said Meg, coming nearer to him. "And if you +will go on with yours, I'll tell you how and where, +and how your dinner came to be brought and—and +something else besides."</p> + +<p>Toby still appeared not to believe her; but she +looked into his face with her clear eyes, and, +laying her hand upon his shoulder, motioned him +to go on while the meat was hot. So Trotty +took up his knife and fork again and went to work,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +but much more slowly than before, and shaking +his head, as if he were not at all pleased with +himself.</p> + +<p>"I had my dinner, father," said Meg, after a +little hesitation, "with—with Richard. His +dinner-time was early; and as he brought his +dinner with him when he came to see me, we—we +had it together, father."</p> + +<p>Trotty took a little beer and smacked his lips. +Then he said "Oh!" because she waited.</p> + +<p>"And Richard says, father—" Meg resumed, +then stopped.</p> + +<p>"What does Richard say, Meg?" asked Toby.</p> + +<p>"Richard says, father—" Another stoppage.</p> + +<p>"Richard's a long time saying it," said Toby.</p> + +<p>"He says, then, father," Meg continued, lifting +up her eyes at last, and speaking in a tremble, +but quite plainly, "another year is nearly gone, +and where is the use of waiting on from year to +year, when it is so unlikely we shall ever be better +off than we are now? He says we are poor now, +father, and we shall be poor then; but we are +young now, and years will make us old before we +know it. He says that if we wait, people as poor +as we are, until we see our way quite clearly, the +way will be a narrow one indeed—the common +way—the grave, father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>A bolder man than Trotty Veck must needs +have drawn upon his boldness largely to deny it. +Trotty held his peace.</p> + +<p>"And how hard, father, to grow old and die, +and think we might have cheered and helped each +other! How hard in all our lives to love each +other, and to grieve, apart, to see each other +working, changing, growing old and gray. Even +if I got the better of it, and forgot him (which I +never could), oh, father, dear, how hard to have +a heart so full as mine is now, and live to have it +slowly drained out every drop, without remembering +one happy moment of a woman's life to stay +behind and comfort me and make me better!"</p> + +<p>Trotty sat quite still. Meg dried her eyes, +and said more gaily—that is to say, with here a +laugh and there a sob, and here a laugh and sob +together:</p> + +<p>"So Richard says, father, as his work was yesterday +made certain for some time to come, and +as I love him and have loved him full three years—ah, +longer than that, if he knew it!—will I +marry him on New Year's Day?"</p> + +<p>Just then Richard himself came up to persuade +Toby to agree to their plan; and, almost at the +same moment, a footman came out of the house +and ordered them all off the steps, and some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +gentlemen came out who called up Trotty, and +asked a great many questions, and found a good +deal of fault, telling Richard he was very foolish +to want to get married, which made Toby feel +very unhappy, and Richard very angry. So the +lovers went off together sadly; Richard looking +gloomy and downcast, and Meg in tears. Toby, +who had a letter given him to carry, and a sixpence, +trotted off in rather low spirits to a very +grand house, where he was told to take the letter +in to the gentleman. While he was waiting, he +heard the letter read. It was from Alderman +Cute, to tell Sir Joseph Bowley that one of his +tenants named Will Fern, who had come to London +to try to get work, and been brought before +him charged with sleeping in a shed, and asking +if Sir Joseph wished him to be dealt kindly with +or otherwise. To Toby's great disappointment, +for Sir Joseph had talked a great deal about being +a friend to the poor, the answer was given that +Will Fern might be sent to prison as a vagabond, +and made an example of, though his only fault was +that he was poor. On his way home, Toby, +thinking sadly, with his hat pulled down low on +his head, ran against a man dressed like a country-man, +carrying a fair-haired little girl. Toby +enquired anxiously if he had hurt either of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +The man answered no, and seeing Toby had a kind +face, he asked him the way to Alderman Cute's +house.</p> + +<p>"It's impossible," cried Toby, "that your name +is Will Fern?"</p> + +<p>"That's my name," said the man.</p> + +<p>Thereupon Toby told him what he had just +heard, and said, "Don't go there."</p> + +<p>Poor Will told him how he could not make a +living in the country, and had come to London +with his orphan niece to try to find a friend of +her mother's and to endeavor to get some work, +and, wishing Toby a happy New Year, was about +to trudge wearily off again, when Trotty caught +his hand, saying—</p> + +<p>"Stay! The New Year never can be happy +to me if I see the child and you go wandering +away without a shelter for your heads. Come +home with me. I'm a poor man, living in a poor +place; but I can give you lodging for one night, +and never miss it. Come home with me! Here! +I'll take her!" cried Trotty, lifting up the child. +"A pretty one! I'd carry twenty times her weight +and never know I'd got it. Tell me if I go too quick +for you. I'm very fast. I always was!" Trotty +said this, taking about six of his trotting paces to +one stride of his tired companion, and with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +thin legs quivering again beneath the load he +bore.</p> + +<p>"Why, she's as light," said Trotty, trotting in +his speech as well as in his gait—for he couldn't +bear to be thanked, and dreaded a moment's +pause—"as light as a feather. Lighter than a +peacock's feather—a great deal lighter. Here we +are and here we go!" And, rushing in, he set the +child down before his daughter. The little girl +gave one look at Meg's sweet face and ran into her +arms at once, while Trotty ran round the room, +saying, "Here we are and here we go. Here, +Uncle Will, come to the fire. Meg, my precious +darling, where's the kettle? Here it is and here +it goes, and it'll bile in no time!"</p> + +<p>"Why, father!" said Meg, as she knelt before +the child and pulled off her wet shoes, "you're +crazy to-night, I think. I don't know what the +bells would say to that. Poor little feet, how cold +they are!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're warmer now!" exclaimed the child. +"They're quite warm now!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," said Meg. "We haven't rubbed +'em half enough. We're so busy. And when +they're done, we'll brush out the damp hair; +and when that's done, we'll bring some color to +the poor pale face with fresh water; and when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +that's done, we'll be so gay and brisk and +happy!"</p> + +<p>The child, sobbing, clasped her round the neck, +saying, "O Meg, O dear Meg!"</p> + +<p>"Good gracious me!" said Meg presently, +"father's crazy. He's put the dear child's bonnet +on the kettle, and hung the lid behind the door!"</p> + +<p>Trotty hastily repaired this mistake, and went +off to find some tea and a rasher of bacon he +fancied "he had seen lying somewhere on the stairs."</p> + +<p>He soon came back and made the tea, and +before long they were all enjoying the meal. +Trotty and Meg only took a morsel for form's +sake (for they had only a very little, not enough +for all), but their delight was in seeing their visitors +eat, and very happy they were—though +Trotty had noticed that Meg was sitting by the +fire in tears when they had come in, and he +feared her marriage had been broken off.</p> + +<p>After tea Meg took Lilian to bed, and Toby +showed Will Fern where he was to sleep. As he +came back past Meg's door he heard the child +saying her prayers, remembering Meg's name and +asking for his. Then he went to sit by the fire +and read his paper, and fell asleep to have a +wonderful dream, so terrible and sad, that it was +a great relief when he woke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And whatever you do, father," said Meg, +"don't eat tripe again without asking some +doctor whether it's likely to agree with you; +for how you <i>have</i> been going on! Good gracious!"</p> + +<p>She was working with her needle at the little +table by the fire, dressing her simple gown with +ribbons for her wedding—so quietly happy, so +blooming and youthful, so full of beautiful promise +that he uttered a great cry as if it were an angel +in his house, then flew to clasp her in his arms.</p> + +<p>But he caught his feet in the newspaper, which +had fallen on the hearth, and somebody came +rushing in between them.</p> + +<p>"No!" cried the voice of this same somebody. +A generous and jolly voice it was! "Not even +you; not even you. The first kiss of Meg in +the New Year is mine—mine! I have been waiting +outside the house this hour to hear the bells +and claim it. Meg, my precious prize, a happy +year! A life of happy years, my darling wife!"</p> + +<p>And Richard smothered her with kisses.</p> + +<p>You never in all your life saw anything like +Trotty after this, I don't care where you have +lived or what you have seen; you never in your +life saw anything at all approaching him! He +kept running up to Meg, and squeezing her fresh +face between his hands and kissing it, going from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +her backwards not to lose sight of it, and running +up again like a figure in a magic lantern; and +whatever he did, he was constantly sitting himself +down in his chair, and never stopping in it for +one single moment, being—that's the truth—beside +himself with joy.</p> + +<p>"And to-morrow's your wedding-day, my pet!" +cried Trotty. "Your real, happy wedding-day!"</p> + +<p>"To-day!" cried Richard, shaking hands with +him. "To-day. The chimes are ringing in the +New Year. Hear them!"</p> + +<p>They <i>were</i> ringing! Bless their sturdy hearts, +they <i>were</i> ringing! Great bells as they were—melodious, +deep-mouthed, noble bells, cast in no +common metal, made by no common founder—when +had they ever chimed like that before?</p> + +<p>Trotty was backing off to that wonderful chair +again, when the child, who had been awakened +by the noise, came running in half-dressed.</p> + +<p>"Why, here she is!" cried Trotty, catching her +up. "Here's little Lilian! Ha, ha, ha! Here +we are and here we go. Oh, here we are and here +we go again! And here we are and here we go! +And Uncle Will, too!"</p> + +<p>Before Will Fern could make the least reply, a +band of music burst into the room, attended by a +flock of neighbors, screaming, "A Happy New<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +Year, Meg!" "A happy wedding!" "Many of 'em!" +and other fragmentary good-wishes of that sort. +The Drum (who was a private friend of Trotty's) +then stepped forward and said:</p> + +<p>"Trotty Veck, my boy, it's got about that your +daughter is going to be married to-morrow. +There ain't a soul that knows you that don't +wish you well, or that knows her and don't wish +her well. Or that knows you both, and don't +wish you both all the happiness the New Year +can bring. And here we are to play it in and +dance it in accordingly."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Chickenstalker came in (a good-humored, +nice-looking woman who, to the delight +of all, turned out to be the friend of Lilian's +mother, for whom Will Fern had come to look), +with a stone pitcher full of "flip," to wish Meg +joy, and then the music struck up, and Trotty, +making Meg and Richard second couple, led off +Mrs. Chickenstalker down the dance, and danced +it in a step unknown before or since, founded on +his own peculiar trot.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> +<h2>II.</h2> + +<h3>TINY TIM.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>IT will surprise you all very much to hear that +there was once a man who did not like Christmas. +In fact, he had been heard on several +occasions to use the word <i>humbug</i> with regard to +it. His name was Scrooge, and he was a hard, +sour-tempered man of business, intent only on +saving and making money, and caring nothing for +anyone. He paid the poor, hard-working clerk +in his office as little as he could possibly get the +work done for, and lived on as little as possible +himself, alone, in two dismal rooms. He was +never merry or comfortable or happy, and he +hated other people to be so, and that was the reason +why he hated Christmas, because people <i>will</i> +be happy at Christmas, you know, if they possibly +can, and like to have a little money to +make themselves and others comfortable.</div> + +<p>Well, it was Christmas eve, a very cold and +foggy one, and Mr. Scrooge, having given his poor +clerk permission very unwillingly to spend Christmas +day at home, locked up his office and went +home himself in a very bad temper, and with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +cold in his head. After having taken some gruel +as he sat over a miserable fire in his dismal room, +he got into bed, and had some wonderful and +disagreeable dreams, to which we will leave him, +whilst we see how Tiny Tim, the son of his poor +clerk, spent Christmas day.</p> + +<p>The name of this clerk was Bob Cratchit. He +had a wife and five other children besides Tim, +who was a weak and delicate little cripple, and for +this reason was dearly loved by his father and the +rest of the family; not but what he was a dear +little boy, too, gentle and patient and loving, +with a sweet face of his own, which no one could +help looking at.</p> + +<p>Whenever he could spare the time, it was Mr. +Cratchit's delight to carry his little boy out on his +shoulder to see the shops and the people; and to-day +he had taken him to church for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Whatever has got your precious father and +your brother Tiny Tim!" exclaimed Mrs. Cratchit, +"here's dinner all ready to be dished up. I've +never known him so late on Christmas day before."</p> + +<p>"Here he is, mother!" cried Belinda, and "here +he is!" cried the other children.</p> + +<p>In came little Bob, the father, with at least +three feet of comforter, exclusive of the fringe, +hanging down before him; and his threadbare<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +clothes darned up and brushed, to look just as +well as possible; and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. +Alas for Tiny Tim, he bore a little crutch, and +had his limbs supported by an iron frame!</p> + +<p>"Why, where's our Martha?" cried Bob +Cratchit, looking round.</p> + +<p>"Not coming," said Mrs. Cratchit.</p> + +<p>"Not coming!" said Bob, with a sudden dropping +in his high spirits; for he had been Tim's +blood horse all the way from church, and had +come home rampant. "Not coming upon Christmas +day!"</p> + +<p>Martha didn't like to see him disappointed, if +it were only in joke; so she came out sooner than +had been agreed upon from behind the closet-door, +and ran into his arms, while the two young +Cratchits hustled Tiny Tim, and bore him off into +the wash-house, that he might hear the pudding +singing in the copper kettle.</p> + +<p>"And how did Tim behave?" asked Mrs. +Cratchit.</p> + +<p>"As good as gold and better," replied his father. +"I think, wife, the child gets thoughtful, sitting at +home so much. He told me, coming home, that +he hoped the people in church who saw he was a +cripple, would be pleased to remember on Christmas +day who it was who made the lame to walk."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bless his sweet heart!" said the mother in a +trembling voice, and the father's voice trembled, +too, as he remarked that "Tiny Tim was growing +strong and hearty at last."</p> + +<p>His active little crutch was heard upon the +floor, and back came Tiny Tim before another +word was spoken, led by his brother and sister to +his stool beside the fire; while Bob, Master Peter, +and the two young Cratchits (who seemed to be +everywhere at once) went to fetch the goose, with +which they soon returned in high procession.</p> + +<p>Such a bustle ensued that you might have +thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a perfect +marvel, to which a black swan was a matter of +course—and in truth it was something very like it +in that house. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy +(ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing +hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with +tremendous vigor; Miss Belinda sweetened up +the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; +Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at +the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for +everybody, not forgetting themselves, and, mounting +guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into +their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose +before their turn came to be helped. At last the +dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, +looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared +to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, +and when the long-expected gush of stuffing +issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all +round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by +the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with +the handle of his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah!</p> + +<p>There never was such a goose. Bob said he +didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. +Its tenderness and flavor, size, and cheapness +were the themes of universal admiration. Eked +out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was +a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, +as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying +one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they +hadn't ate it all at that! Yet everyone had had +enough, and the youngest Cratchits, in particular, +were steeped in sage and onions to the eyebrows! +But now, the plates being changed by Miss +Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone—too +nervous to bear witnesses—to take up the pudding +and bring it in.</p> + +<p>Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose +it should break in turning out! Suppose +somebody should have got over the wall of the +back yard and stolen it, while they were merry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +with the goose—a supposition at which the two +young Cratchits became livid! All sorts of +horrors were supposed.</p> + +<p>Halloo! A great deal of steam! The pudding +was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! +That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house +and a pastrycook's next door to each other, +with a laundress' next door to that! That was +the pudding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit +entered—flushed, but smiling proudly—with the +pudding like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and +firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of lighted +brandy, and decorated with Christmas holly +stuck into the top.</p> + +<p>Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, +and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest +success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their +marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that, now the +weight was off her mind, she would confess she +had her doubts about the quantity of flour. +Everybody had something to say about it, but +nobody said or thought it was a small pudding for +a large family. It would have been really wicked +to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to +hint at such a thing.</p> + +<p>At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was +cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +The hot stuff in the jug being tasted, and considered +perfect, apples and oranges were put upon +the table, and a shovel full of chestnuts on the +fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round +the hearth in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, +meaning half a one; and at Bob Cratchit's elbow +stood the family display of glass. Two tumblers +and a custard cup without a handle.</p> + +<p>These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, +as well as golden goblets would have done; and +Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the +chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked +noisily. Then Bob proposed:</p> + +<p>"A merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God +bless us!"</p> + +<p>Which all the family re-echoed.</p> + +<p>"God bless us everyone!" said Tiny Tim, the +last of all.</p> + +<p>Now I told you that Mr. Scrooge had some +disagreeable and wonderful dreams on Christmas +eve, and so he had; and in one of them he dreamt +that a Christmas spirit showed him his clerk's +home; he saw them all gathered round the fire, +and heard them drink his health, and Tiny Tim's +song, and he took special note of Tiny Tim himself.</p> + +<p>How Mr. Scrooge spent Christmas day we do not +know. He may have remained in bed, having a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +cold, but on Christmas night he had more dreams, +and in one of his dreams the spirit took him again +to his clerk's poor home. The mother was doing +some needlework, seated by the table, a tear +dropped on it now and then, and she said, poor +thing, that the work, which was black, hurt her +eyes. The children sat, sad and silent, about the +room, except Tiny Tim, who was not there. +Upstairs the father, with his face hidden in his +hands, sat beside a little bed, on which lay a +tiny figure, white and still. "My little child, my +pretty little child," he sobbed, as the tears fell +through his fingers on to the floor. "Tiny Tim +died because his father was too poor to give him +what was necessary to make him well; <i>you</i> kept +him poor;" said the dream-spirit to Mr. Scrooge. +The father kissed the cold, little face on the bed, +and went downstairs, where the sprays of holly +still remained about the humble room; and taking +his hat, went out, with a wistful glance at the +little crutch in the corner as he shut the door. +Mr. Scrooge saw all this, and many more things +as strange and sad, the spirit took care of that; +but, wonderful to relate, he woke the next morning +feeling a different man—feeling as he had +never felt in his life before. For after all, you +know that what he had seen was no more than a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +dream; he knew that Tiny Tim was not dead, +and Scrooge was resolved that Tiny Tim should +not die if he could help it.</p> + +<p>"Why, I am as light as a feather, and as happy +as an angel, and as merry as a schoolboy," Scrooge +said to himself as he skipped into the next room +to breakfast and threw on all the coals at once, +and put two lumps of sugar in his tea. "I hope +everybody had a merry Christmas, and here's +a happy New Year to all the world."</p> + +<p>On that morning, the day after Christmas poor +Bob Cratchit crept into the office a few minutes +late, expecting to be roundly abused and scolded +for it, but no such thing; his master was there +with his back to a good fire, and actually +smiling, and he shook hands with his clerk, telling +him heartily he was going to raise his salary and +asking quite affectionately after Tiny Tim! +"And mind you make up a good fire in your room +before you set to work, Bob," he said, as he closed +his own door.</p> + +<p>Bob could hardly believe his eyes and ears, but +it was all true. Such doings as they had on New +Year's day had never been seen before in the +Cratchits' home, nor such a turkey as Mr. Scrooge +sent them for dinner. Tiny Tim had his share +too, for Tiny Tim did not die, not a bit of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +Mr. Scrooge was a second father to him from that +day, he wanted for nothing, and grew up strong +and hearty. Mr. Scrooge loved him, and well he +might, for was it not Tiny Tim who had without +knowing it, through the Christmas dream-spirit, +touched his hard heart and caused him to become +a good and happy man?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> +<h2>III.</h2> + +<h3>THE RUNAWAY COUPLE.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Boots at the Holly Tree Inn was the +young man named Cobbs, who blacked +the shoes, and ran errands, and waited +on the people at the inn; and this is the story +that he told, one day.</div> + +<p>"Supposing a young gentleman not eight years +old was to run away with a fine young woman of +seven, would you consider that a queer start? +That there is a start as I—the Boots at the Holly +Tree Inn—have seen with my own eyes; and I +cleaned the shoes they ran away in, and they +was so little that I couldn't get my hand into 'em.</p> + +<p>"Master Harry Walmers' father, he lived at the +Elms, away by Shooter's Hill, six or seven miles +from London. He was uncommon proud of +Master Harry, as he was his only child; but he +didn't spoil him neither. He was a gentleman +that had a will of his own, and an eye of his own, +and that would be minded. Consequently, +though he made quite a companion of the fine +bright boy, still he kept the command over him, +and the child <i>was</i> a child. I was under-gardener<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +there at that time; and one morning Master +Harry, he comes to me and says—</p> + +<p>"'Cobbs, how should you spell Norah, if you +was asked?' and then begun cutting it in print, +all over the fence.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't say he had taken particular notice +of children before that; but really it was pretty +to see them two mites a-going about the place together, +deep in love. And the courage of the +boy! Bless your soul, he'd have throwed off his +little hat, and tucked up his little sleeves, and gone +in at a lion, he would, if they had happened to +meet one and she had been frightened of him. +One day he stops along, with her, where Boots +was hoeing weeds in the gravel, and says—speaking +up, 'Cobbs,' he says, 'I like you.' 'Do you, sir? +I'm proud to hear it.' 'Yes, I do, Cobbs. Why +do I like you, do you think, Cobbs?' 'Don't know, +Master Harry, I am sure.' 'Because Norah likes +you, Cobbs.' 'Indeed, sir? That's very gratifying.' +'Gratifying, Cobbs? It's better than millions +of the brightest diamonds to be liked by +Norah.' 'Certainly, sir.' 'You're going away, +ain't you, Cobbs?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Would you like +another situation, Cobbs?' 'Well, sir, I shouldn't +object, if it was a good 'un.' 'Then, Cobbs,' +says he, 'you shall be our head-gardener when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +we are married.' And he tucks her, in her little +sky-blue mantle, under his arm, and walks away.</p> + +<p>"It was better than a picter, and equal to a +play, to see them babies with their long, bright, +curling hair, their sparkling eyes, and their +beautiful light tread, a-rambling about the garden, +deep in love. Boots was of opinion that the +birds believed they was birds, and kept up with +'em, singing to please 'em. Sometimes, they +would creep under the Tulip tree, and would sit +there with their arms round one another's necks, +and their soft cheeks touching, a-reading about +the prince and the dragon, and the good and bad +enchanters, and the king's fair daughter. Sometimes +he would hear them planning about having a +house in a forest, keeping bees and a cow, and +living entirely on milk and honey. Once he came +upon them by the pond, and heard Master Harry +say, 'Adorable Norah, kiss me, and say you love +me to distraction, or I'll jump in headforemost.' +And Boots made no question he would have done +it, if she hadn't done as he asked her.</p> + +<p>"'Cobbs,' says Master Harry, one evening, +when Cobbs was watering the flowers, 'I am going +on a visit, this present mid-summer, to my grandmamma's +at York.'</p> + +<p>"'Are you, indeed, sir? I hope you'll have a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +pleasant time. I am going into Yorkshire myself +when I leave here.'</p> + +<p>"'Are you going to your grandmamma's, +Cobbs?'</p> + +<p>"'No, sir. I haven't got such a thing.'</p> + +<p>"'Not as a grandmamma, Cobbs?'</p> + +<p>"'No, sir.'</p> + +<p>"The boy looked on at the watering of the +flowers for a little while and then said, 'I shall be +very glad, indeed, to go, Cobbs—Norah's going.'</p> + +<p>"'You'll be all right then, sir,' says Cobbs, +'with your beautiful sweetheart by your side.'</p> + +<p>"'Cobbs,' returned the boy, flushing, 'I never +let anybody joke about it when I can prevent them.'</p> + +<p>"'It wasn't a joke, sir,' says Cobbs, with +humility—'wasn't so meant.'</p> + +<p>"'I am glad of that, Cobbs, because I like you! +you know, and you're going to live with us, Cobbs.</p> + +<p>"'Sir.'</p> + +<p>"'What do you think my grandmamma gives +me, when I go down there?'</p> + +<p>"'I couldn't so much as make a guess, sir.'</p> + +<p>"'A Bank of England five-pound note, Cobbs.'<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + +<p>"'Whew!' says Cobbs, 'that's a spanking sum +of money, Master Harry.'</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> +<p>"'A person could do a great deal with such a +sum of money as that. Couldn't a person, Cobbs?'</p> + +<p>"'I believe you, sir!'</p> + +<p>"'Cobbs,' said the boy, 'I'll tell you a secret. +At Norah's house they have been joking her about +me, and pretending to laugh at our being engaged. +Pretending to make game of it, Cobbs!'</p> + +<p>"'Such, sir,' says Cobbs, 'is the wickedness of +human natur'.'</p> + +<p>"The boy, looking exactly like his father, stood +for a few minutes with his glowing face towards the +sunset, and then departed with, 'Good night, +Cobbs. I'm going in.'</p> + +<p>"I was the Boots at the Holly Tree Inn when +one summer afternoon the coach drives up, and +out of the coach gets these two children.</p> + +<p>"The guard says to our governor, the inn-keeper, +'I don't quite make out these little passengers, +but the young gentleman's words was, that they +were to be brought here.' The young gentleman +gets out; hands his lady out; gives the driver +something for himself; says to our governor, +'We're to stop here to-night, please. Sitting-room +and two bedrooms will be required. Chops and +cherry-pudding for two!' and tucks her, in her +little sky-blue mantle, under his arm, and walks +into the house much bolder than brass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Boots leaves me to judge what the amazement +of that establishment was when those two tiny +creatures, all alone by themselves, was marched +into the parlor—much more so when he, who had +seen them without their seeing him, gave the +governor his views of the errand they was upon. +'Cobbs,' says the governor, 'if this is so, I must +set off myself to York and quiet their friends' +minds. In which case you must keep your eye +upon 'em, and humor 'em, till I come back. But, +before I take these measures, Cobbs, I should wish +you to find out from themselves whether your +opinions is correct.' 'Sir, to you,' says Cobbs, +'that shall be done directly.'</p> + +<p>"So Boots goes up stairs to the parlor, and there +he finds Master Harry on an enormous sofa +a-drying the eyes of Miss Norah with his pocket-hankecher. +Their little legs were entirely off the +ground of course, and it really is not possible for +Boots to express to me how small them children +looked.</p> + +<p>"'It's Cobbs! It's Cobbs!' cries Master Harry, +and comes running to him, and catching hold of +his hand. Miss Norah comes running to him on +t'other side, and catching hold of his t'other hand, +and they both jump for joy.</p> + +<p>"'I see you a-getting out, sir,' says Cobbs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +'I thought it was you. I thought I couldn't be +mistaken in your height and figure. What's the +object of your journey, sir? Are you going to be +married?'</p> + +<p>"'We are going to be married, Cobbs, at Gretna +Green,' returned the boy. 'We have run away on +purpose. Norah has been in rather low spirits, +Cobbs; but she'll be happy, now we have found +you to be our friend.'</p> + +<p>"'Thank you, sir, and thank <i>you</i>, miss,' says +Cobbs, 'for your good opinion. Did you bring any +luggage with you, sir?'</p> + +<p>"If I will believe Boots when he gives me his +word and honor upon it, the lady had got a parasol, +a smelling-bottle, a round and a half of cold +buttered toast, eight peppermint drops, and a +hair-brush—seemingly a doll's. The gentleman +had got about half a dozen yards of string, a knife, +three or four sheets of writing-paper folded up +surprisingly small, an orange, and a china mug +with his name upon it.</p> + +<p>"'What may be the exact natur' of your plans, +sir?' says Cobbs.</p> + +<p>"'To go on,' replied the boy—which the +courage of that boy was something wonderful!—'in +the morning, and be married to-morrow.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Just so, sir,' says Cobbs. 'Would it meet +your views, sir, if I was to go with you?'</p> + +<p>"When Cobbs said this, they both jumped for joy +again, and cried out, 'Oh, yes, yes, Cobbs! Yes!'</p> + +<p>"'Well, sir,' says Cobbs. 'If you will excuse +my having the freedom to give an opinion, what +I should recommend would be this. I'm acquainted +with a pony, sir, which, put in a phaeton +that I could borrow, would take you and Mrs. +Harry Walmers, Jr. (myself driving, if you agree), +to the end of your journey in a very short space +of time. I am not altogether sure, sir, that this +pony will be at liberty to-morrow, but even if you +had to wait over to-morrow for him, it might be +worth your while. As to the small account for +your board here, sir, in case you was to find yourself +running at all short, that don't signify, because +I'm a part proprietor of this inn, and it could +stand over.'</p> + +<p>"Boots tells me that when they clapped their +hands and jumped for joy again, and called him, +'Good Cobbs!' and 'Dear Cobbs!' and bent across +him to kiss one another in the delight of their +trusting hearts, he felt himself the meanest rascal +for deceiving 'em that ever was born.</p> + +<p>"'Is there anything you want just at present, +sir?' says Cobbs, mortally ashamed of himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'We would like some cakes after dinner,' +answered Master Harry, folding his arms, putting +out one leg, and looking straight at him, 'and two +apples—and jam. With dinner, we should like +to have toast and water. But Norah has always +been accustomed to half a glass of currant wine +at dessert. And so have I.'</p> + +<p>"'It shall be ordered at the bar, sir,' says Cobbs, +and away he went.</p> + +<p>"'The way in which the women of that house—without +exception—everyone of 'em—married +and single, took to that boy when they heard the +story, Boots considers surprising. It was as much +as he could do to keep 'em from dashing into the +room and kissing him. They climbed up all sorts +of places, at the risk of their lives, to look at him +through a pane of glass. They were seven deep +at the key-hole. They were out of their minds +about him and his bold spirit.</p> + +<p>"In the evening Boots went into the room, to +see how the runaway couple was getting on. The +gentleman was on the window-seat, supporting +the lady in his arms. She had tears upon her +face, and was lying, very tired and half-asleep, +with her head upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"'Mrs. Harry Walmers, Jr., tired, sir?' says Cobbs.</p> + +<p>"'Yes, she is tired, Cobbs; but she is not used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +to be away from home, and she has been in low +spirits again. Cobbs, do you think you could +bring a biffin, please?'</p> + +<p>"'I ask your pardon, sir,' says Cobbs. 'What +was it you—'</p> + +<p>"'I think a Norfolk biffin<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> would rouse her, +Cobbs. She is very fond of them.'</p> + +<p>"Boots withdrew in search of the required +restorative, and, when he brought it in, the gentleman +handed it to the lady, and fed her with a +spoon, and took a little himself. The lady being +heavy with sleep, and rather cross. 'What should +you think, sir,' says Cobbs, 'of a chamber candlestick?' +The gentleman approved; the chambermaid +went first, up the great staircase; the lady, +in her sky-blue mantle, followed, gallantly led by +the gentleman; the gentleman kissed her at the +door, and retired to his own room, where Boots +softly locked him up.</p> + +<p>"Boots couldn't but feel what a base deceiver +he was when they asked him at breakfast (they +had ordered sweet milk-and-water, and toast and +currant jelly, overnight) about the pony. It +really was as much as he could do, he don't mind +confessing to me, to look them two young things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +in the face, and think how wicked he had grown +up to be. Howsomever, he went on a-lying like +a Trojan, about the pony. He told 'em it did so +unfortunately happen that the pony was half-clipped, +you see, and that he couldn't be taken out +in that state for fear that it should strike to his +inside. But that he'd be finished clipping in the +course of the day, and that to-morrow morning +at eight o'clock the phaeton would be ready. +Boots' view of the whole case, looking back upon +it in my room, is, that Mrs. Harry Walmers, Jr., +was beginning to give in. She hadn't had her +hair curled when she went to bed, and she didn't +seem quite up to brushing it herself, and it's +getting in her eyes put her out. But nothing put +out Master Harry. He sat behind his breakfast +cup, a-tearing away at the jelly, as if he had been +his own father.</p> + +<p>"After breakfast Boots is inclined to think that +they drawed soldiers—at least, he knows that +many such was found in the fireplace, all on horseback. +In the course of the morning Master Harry +rang the bell—it was surprising how that there +boy did carry on—and said in a sprightly way, +'Cobbs, is there any good walks in this neighborhood?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes, sir,' says Cobbs. 'There's Love Lane.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Get out with you, Cobbs!'—that was that +there boy's expression—'you're joking.'</p> + +<p>"'Begging your pardon, sir,' says Cobbs, +'there really is Love Lane. And a pleasant walk +it is, and proud I shall be to show it to yourself +and Mrs. Harry Walmers, Jr.'</p> + +<p>"'Norah, dear,' said Master Harry, 'this is +curious. We really ought to see Love Lane. Put +on your bonnet, my sweetest darling, and we will +go there with Cobbs.'</p> + +<p>"Boots leaves me to judge what a beast he felt +himself to be, when that young pair told him, +as they all three jogged along together, that they +had made up their minds to give him two thousand +guineas a year as head-gardener, on account of his +being so true a friend to 'em. Boots could have +wished at the moment that the earth would have +opened and swallowed him up; he felt so mean +with their beaming eyes a-looking at him, and +believing him. Well, sir, he turned the conversation +as well as he could, and he took 'em down +Love Lane to the water-meadows, and there +Master Harry would have drowned himself in half +a moment more, a-getting out a water-lily for +her—but nothing frightened that boy. Well, +sir, they was tired out. All being so new and +strange to 'em, they was tired as tired could be.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +And they laid down on a bank of daisies, like the +children in the wood, leastways meadows, and fell +asleep.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, they woke up at last, and then one +thing was getting pretty clear to Boots, namely, +that Mrs. Harry Walmers', Jr., temper was on the +move. When Master Harry took her round the +waist she said he 'teased her so,' and when he says, +'Norah, my young May Moon, your Harry tease +you?' she tells him, 'Yes; and I want to go home!'</p> + +<p>"However, Master Harry he kept up, and his +noble heart was as fond as ever. Mrs. Walmers +turned very sleepy about dusk and began to cry. +Therefore, Mrs. Walmers went off to bed as per +yesterday; and Master Harry ditto repeated.</p> + +<p>"About eleven or twelve at night comes back +the inn-keeper in a chaise, along with Mr. Walmers +and an elderly lady. Mr. Walmers looks amused +and very serious, both at once, and says to our +missis, 'We are very much indebted to you, ma'am, +for your kind care of our little children, which we +can never sufficiently acknowledge. Pray, ma'am +where is my boy?' Our missis says, 'Cobbs has +the dear children in charge, sir. Cobbs, show +forty!' Then he says to Cobbs, 'Ah, Cobbs! +I am glad to see <i>you</i>. I understand you was here!' +And Cobbs says, 'Yes, sir. Your most obedient, sir.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I may be surprised to hear Boots say it, perhaps, +but Boots assures me that his heart beat +like a hammer, going up-stairs. 'I beg your pardon, +sir,' says he, while unlocking the door; 'I +hope you are not angry with Master Harry. For +Master Harry is a fine boy, sir, and will do you +credit and honor.' And Boots signifies to me that +if the fine boy's father had contradicted him in +the daring state of mind in which he then was, he +thinks he should have 'fetched him a crack,' and +taken the consequences.</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Walmers only says, 'No, Cobbs. No, +my good fellow. Thank you!' And the door +being open, goes in.</p> + +<p>"Boots goes in too, holding the light, and he +sees Mr. Walmers go up to the bedside, bend gently +down, and kiss the little sleeping face. Then he +stands looking at it for a minute, looking wonderfully +like it; and then he gently shakes the little +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"'Harry, my dear boy! Harry!'</p> + +<p>"Master Harry starts up and looks at him. +Looks at Cobbs, too. Such is the honor of that +mite that he looks at Cobbs to see whether he has +brought him into trouble.</p> + +<p>"'I am not angry, my child. I only want you +to dress yourself and come home.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Yes, pa.'</p> + +<p>"Master Harry dresses himself quickly. His +breast begins to swell when he has nearly finished, +and it swells more and more as he stands a-looking +at his father; his father standing a-looking at him, +the quiet image of him.</p> + +<p>"'Please may I'—the spirit of that little creatur', +and the way he kept his rising tears down!—'Please, +dear pa—may I—kiss Norah before I +go?'</p> + +<p>"'You may, my child.'</p> + +<p>"So he takes Master Harry in his hand, and +Boots leads the way with the candle, and they +come to that other bedroom; where the elderly +lady is seated by the bed, and poor little Mrs. +Harry Walmers, Jr., is fast asleep. There the +father lifts the child up to the pillow, and he lays +his little face down for an instant by the little +warm face of poor unconscious little Mrs. Harry +Walmers, Jr., and gently draws it to him—a sight +so touching to the chambermaids who are peeping +through the door that one of them calls out, +'It's a shame to part 'em!' But this chambermaid +was always, as Boots informs me, a soft-hearted +one. Not that there was any harm in that girl. +Far from it."</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> For the benefit of some of our young readers, it may be well to explain +that this is about the same as a bill of twenty-five dollars would be in +America.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> A biffin is a red apple, growing near Norfolk, and generally eaten after +having been baked.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<h2>IV.</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE DORRIT.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>MANY years ago, when people could be put +in prison for debt, a poor gentleman, who +was unfortunate enough to lose all his +money, was brought to the Marshalsea prison, +which was the prison where debtors were kept. As +there seemed no prospect of being able to pay his +debts, his wife and their two little children came +to live there with him. The elder child was a +boy of three; the younger a little girl of two years +old, and not long afterwards another little girl +was born. The three children played in the courtyard, +and on the whole were happy, for they were +too young to remember a happier state of things.</div> + +<p>But the youngest child, who had never been outside +the prison walls, was a thoughtful little creature, +and wondered what the outside world could be like. +Her great friend, the turnkey, who was also her godfather, +became very fond of her, and as soon as she +could walk and talk he brought a little arm-chair +and stood it by his fire at the lodge, and coaxed her +with cheap toys to come and sit with him. In return +the child loved him dearly, and would often<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +bring her doll to dress and undress as she sat in the +little arm-chair. She was still a very tiny creature +when she began to understand that everyone did +not live locked up inside high walls with spikes at +the top, and though she and the rest of the family +might pass through the door that the great key +opened, her father could not; and she would look at +him with a wondering pity in her tender little heart.</p> + +<p>One day, she was sitting in the lodge gazing +wistfully up at the sky through the barred window. +The turnkey, after watching her some time, said:</p> + +<p>"Thinking of the fields, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"Where are they?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, they're—over there, my dear," said the +turnkey, waving his key vaguely, "just about +there."</p> + +<p>"Does anybody open them and shut them? +Are they locked?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said the turnkey, not knowing what to +say, "not in general."</p> + +<p>"Are they pretty, Bob?" She called him Bob, +because he wished it.</p> + +<p>"Lovely. Full of flowers. There's buttercups, +and there's daisies, and there's—" here he hesitated +not knowing the names of many flowers—"there's +dandelions, and all manner of games."</p> + +<p>"Is it very pleasant to be there, Bob?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Prime," said the turnkey.</p> + +<p>"Was father ever there?"</p> + +<p>"Hem!" coughed the turnkey. "O yes, he was +there, sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Is he sorry not to be there now?"</p> + +<p>"N—not particular," said the turnkey.</p> + +<p>"Nor any of the people?" she asked, glancing +at the listless crowd within. "O are you quite +sure and certain, Bob?"</p> + +<p>At this point, Bob gave in and changed the subject +to candy. But after this chat, the turnkey +and little Amy would go out on his free Sunday +afternoons to some meadows or green lanes, and +she would pick grass and flowers to bring home, +while he smoked his pipe; and then they would +go to some tea-gardens for shrimps and tea and +other delicacies, and would come back hand in +hand, unless she was very tired and had fallen +asleep on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>When Amy was only eight years old, her mother +died; and the poor father was more helpless and +broken-down than ever, and as Fanny was a +careless child and Edward idle, the little one, who +had the bravest and truest heart, was led by her +love and unselfishness to be the little mother of +the forlorn family, and struggled to get some little +education for herself and her brother and sister.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>At first, such a baby could do little more than +sit with her father, deserting her livelier place by +the high fender, and quietly watching him. But +this made her so far necessary to him that he +became accustomed to her, and began to be +sensible of missing her when she was not there. +Through this little gate, she passed out of her +childhood into the care-laden world.</p> + +<p>What her pitiful look saw, at that early time, +in her father, in her sister, in her brother, in the +jail; how much or how little of the wretched truth +it pleased God to make plain to her, lies hidden +with many mysteries. It is enough that she was +inspired to be something which was not what the +rest were, and to be that something, different and +laborious, for the sake of the rest. Inspired? +Yes. Shall we speak of a poet or a priest, and not +of the heart impelled by love and self-devotion +to the lowliest work in the lowliest way of life?</p> + +<p>The family stayed so long in the prison that the +old man came to be known as "The Father of the +Marshalsea;" and little Amy, who had never +known any other home, as "The Child of the +Marshalsea."</p> + +<p>At thirteen she could read and keep accounts—that +is, could put down in words and figures how +much the bare necessaries that they wanted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +would cost, and how much less they had to buy +them with. She had been, by snatches of a few +weeks at a time, to an evening school outside, +and got her sister and brother sent to day-schools +from time to time during three or four years. +There was no teaching for any of them at home; +but she knew well—no one better—that a man so +broken as to be the Father of the Marshalsea, +could be no father to his own children.</p> + +<p>To these scanty means of improvement, she +added another of her own contriving. Once among +the crowd of prisoners there appeared a dancing-master. +Her sister had a great desire to learn the +dancing-master's art, and seemed to have a taste +that way. At thirteen years old, the Child of the +Marshalsea presented herself to the dancing-master, +with a little bag in her hand, and offered +her humble petition.</p> + +<p>"If you please, I was born here, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh! you are the young lady, are you?" said +the dancing-master, surveying the small figure +and uplifted face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And what can I do for you?" said the dancing-master.</p> + +<p>"Nothing for me, sir, thank you," anxiously +undrawing the strings of the little bag; "but if,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +while you stay here, you could be so kind as to +teach my sister cheap—"</p> + +<p>"My child, I'll teach her for nothing," said the +dancing-master, shutting up the bag. He was +as good-natured a dancing-master as ever danced +to the Insolvent Court, and he kept his word. +The sister was so apt a pupil, and the dancing-master +had such abundant time to give her, that +wonderful progress was made. Indeed, the dancing-master +was so proud of it, and so wishful to +show it before he left, to a few select friends +among the collegians (the debtors in the prison +were called "collegians"), that at six o'clock on a +certain fine morning, an exhibition was held in +the yard—the college-rooms being of too small +size for the purpose—in which so much ground was +covered, and the steps were so well executed, that +the dancing-master, having to play his fiddle +besides, was thoroughly tired out.</p> + +<p>The success of this beginning, which led to the +dancing-master's continuing his teaching after +his release, led the poor child to try again. She +watched and waited months for a seamstress. +In the fullness of time a milliner came in, sent +there like all the rest for a debt which she could +not pay; and to her she went to ask a favor for +herself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, ma'am," she said, looking +timidly round the door of the milliner, whom she +found in tears and in bed: "but I was born here."</p> + +<p>Everybody seemed to hear of her as soon as +they arrived; for the milliner sat up in bed, drying +her eyes, and said, just as the dancing-master +had said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! <i>you</i> are the child, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry I haven't got anything for you," +said the milliner, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>"It's not that, ma'am. If you please, I want +to learn needlework."</p> + +<p>"Why should you do that," returned the +milliner, "with me before you? It has not done +me much good."</p> + +<p>"Nothing—whatever it is—seems to have done +anybody much good who comes here," she +returned in her simple way; "but I want to learn, +just the same."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you are so weak, you see," the +milliner objected.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I am weak, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"And you are so very, very little, you see," the +milliner objected.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am afraid I am very little indeed," +returned the Child of the Marshalsea; and so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +began to sob over that unfortunate smallness of +hers, which came so often in her way. The milliner—who +was not unkind or hardhearted, only +badly in debt—was touched, took her in hand +with good-will, found her the most patient and +earnest of pupils, and made her a good workwoman.</p> + +<p>In course of time, the Father of the Marshalsea +gradually developed a new trait of character. He +was very greatly ashamed of having his two +daughters work for their living; and tried to +make it appear that they were only doing work +for pleasure, not for pay. But at the same time +he would take money from any one who would +give it to him, without any sense of shame. With +the same hand that had pocketed a fellow-prisoner's +half-crown half an hour ago, he would +wipe away the tears that streamed over his cheeks +if anything was spoken of his daughters' earning +their bread. So, over and above her other daily +cares, the Child of the Marshalsea had always upon +her the care of keeping up the make-believe that +they were all idle beggars together.</p> + +<p>The sister became a dancer. There was a +ruined uncle in the family group—ruined by his +brother, the Father of the Marshalsea, and knowing +no more how, than his ruiner did, but taking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +the fact as something that could not be helped. +Naturally a retired and simple man, he had shown +no particular sense of being ruined, at the time +when that calamity fell upon him, further than +he left off washing himself when the shock was +announced, and never took to washing his face +and hands any more. He had been a rather poor +musician in his better days; and when he fell with +his brother, supported himself in a poor way by +playing a clarionet as dirty as himself in a small +theatre band. It was the theatre in which his +niece became a dancer; he had been a fixture +there a long time when she took her poor station +in it; and he accepted the task of serving as her +guardian, just as he would have accepted an +illness, a legacy, a feast, starvation—anything +but soap.</p> + +<p>To enable this girl to earn her few weekly +shillings, it was necessary for the Child of the +Marshalsea to go through a careful form with her +father.</p> + +<p>"Fanny is not going to live with us, just now, +father. She will be here a good deal in the day, +but she is going to live outside with uncle."</p> + +<p>"You surprise me. Why?"</p> + +<p>"I think uncle wants a companion, father. +He should be attended to and looked after."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A companion? He passes much of his time +here. And you attend and look after him, Amy, +a great deal more than ever your sister will. You +all go out so much; you all go out so much."</p> + +<p>This was to keep up the form and pretense of +his having no idea that Amy herself went out by +the day to work.</p> + +<p>"But we are always very glad to come home +father; now, are we not? And as to Fanny, +perhaps besides keeping uncle company and +taking care of him, it may be as well for her not +quite to live here always. She was not born here +as I was you know, father."</p> + +<p>"Well, Amy, well. I don't quite follow you, +but it's natural I suppose that Fanny should +prefer to be outside, and even that you often +should, too. So, you and Fanny and your uncle, +my dear, shall have your own way. Good, good. +I'll not meddle; don't mind me."</p> + +<p>To get her brother out of the prison; out of the +low work of running errands for the prisoners +outside, and out of the bad company into which +he had fallen, was her hardest task. At eighteen +years of age her brother Edward would have +dragged on from hand to mouth, from hour to +hour, from penny to penny, until eighty. Nobody +got into the prison from whom he gained anything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +useful or good, and she could find no patron for +him but her old friend and godfather, the turnkey.</p> + +<p>"Dear Bob," said she, "what is to become of +poor Tip?" His name was Edward, and Ted had +been changed into Tip, within the walls.</p> + +<p>The turnkey had strong opinions of his own as +to what would become of poor Tip, and had even +gone so far with the view of preventing their fulfilment, +as to talk to Tip in urging him to run +away and serve his country as a soldier. But Tip +had thanked him, and said he didn't seem to care +for his country.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear," said the turnkey, "something +ought to be done with him. Suppose I try and +get him into the law?"</p> + +<p>"That would be so good of you, Bob!"</p> + +<p>The turnkey now began to speak to the lawyers +as they passed in and out of the prison. He spoke +so perseveringly that a stool and twelve shillings +a week were at last found for Tip in the office of +a lawyer at Clifford's Inn, in the Palace Court.</p> + +<p>Tip idled in Clifford's Inn for six months, and +at the end of that term sauntered back one +evening with his hands in his pockets, and +remarked to his sister that he was not going back +again.</p> + +<p>"Not going back again?" said the poor little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +anxious Child of the Marshalsea, always calculating +and planning for Tip, in the front rank of her +charges.</p> + +<p>"I am so tired of it," said Tip, "that I have +cut it."</p> + +<p>Tip tired of everything. With intervals of +Marshalsea lounging, and errand-running, his +small second mother, aided by her trusty friend, +got him into a warehouse, into a market garden, +into the hop trade, into the law again, into an +auctioneer's, into a brewery, into a stockbroker's, +into the law again, into a coach office, into a wagon +office, into the law again, into a general dealer's, +into a distillery, into the law again, into a wool +house, into a dry goods house, into the fish-market, +into the foreign fruit trade, and into the +docks. But whatever Tip went into he came out +of tired, announcing that he had cut it. Wherever +he went, this useless Tip appeared to take the +prison walls with him, and to set them up in such +trade or calling; and to prowl about within their +narrow limits in the old slipshod, purposeless, +down-at-heel way; until the real immovable +Marshalsea walls asserted their power over him +and brought him back.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the brave little creature did so +fix her heart on her brother's rescue that, while he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +was ringing out these doleful changes, she pinched +and scraped enough together to ship him for Canada. +When he was tired of nothing to do, and disposed +in its turn to cut even that, he graciously consented +to go to Canada. And there was grief in +her bosom over parting with him, and joy in the +hope of his being put in a straight course at last.</p> + +<p>"God bless you, dear Tip. Don't be too proud +to come and see us, when you have made your +fortune."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Tip, and went.</p> + +<p>But not all the way to Canada; in fact, not +further than Liverpool. After making the voyage +to that port from London, he found himself so +strongly impelled to cut the vessel, that he resolved +to walk back again. Carrying out which +intention, he presented himself before her at the +expiration of a month, in rags, without shoes, and +much more tired than ever.</p> + +<p>At length, after another period of running +errands, he found a pursuit for himself, and +announced it.</p> + +<p>"Amy, I have got a situation."</p> + +<p>"Have you really and truly, Tip?"</p> + +<p>"All right. I shall do now. You needn't look +anxious about me any more, old girl."</p> + +<p>"What is it, Tip?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, you know Slingo by sight?"</p> + +<p>"Not the man they call the dealer?"</p> + +<p>"That's the chap. He'll be out on Monday, +and he's going to give me a berth."</p> + +<p>"What is he a dealer in, Tip?"</p> + +<p>"Horses. All right! I shall do now, Amy."</p> + +<p>She lost sight of him for months afterwards, +and only heard from him once. A whisper passed +among the elder prisoners that he had been seen +at a mock auction in Moorfields, pretending to +buy plated articles for real silver, and paying for +them with the greatest liberality in bank-notes; +but it never reached her ears. One evening she +was alone at work—standing up at the window, +to save the twilight lingering above the wall—when +he opened the door and walked in.</p> + +<p>She kissed and welcomed him; but was afraid +to ask him any question. He saw how anxious +and timid she was, and appeared sorry.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, Amy, you'll be vexed this time. +Upon my life I am!"</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to hear you say so, Tip. +Have you come back?"</p> + +<p>"Why—yes."</p> + +<p>"Not expecting this time that what you had +found would answer very well, I am less surprised +and sorry than I might have been, Tip."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah! But that's not the worst of it."</p> + +<p>"Not the worst of it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't look so startled. No, Amy, not the +worst of it. I have come back, you see; but—<i>don't</i> +look so startled—I have come back in what +I may call a new way. I am off the volunteer list +altogether. I am in now, as one of the regulars. +I'm here in prison for debt, like everybody else."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Don't say that you are a prisoner, Tip! +Don't, don't!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't want to say it," he returned in +unwilling tone; "but if you can't understand me +without my saying it, what am I to do? I am in +for forty pound odd."</p> + +<p>For the first time in all those years, she sunk +under her cares. She cried, with her clasped +hands lifted above her head, that it would kill +their father if he ever knew it; and fell down at +Tip's worthless feet.</p> + +<p>It was easier for Tip to bring her to her senses +than for her to bring <i>him</i> to understand that the +Father of the Marshalsea would be beside himself +if he knew the truth. Tip thought that there was +nothing strange in being there a prisoner, but he +agreed that his father should not be told about it. +There were plenty of reasons that could be given +for his return; it was accounted for to the father<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +in the usual way; and the collegians, with a +better understanding of the kind fraud than Tip, +stood by it faithfully.</p> + +<p>This was the life, and this the history, of the +Child of the Marshalsea, at twenty-two. With a +still abiding interest in the one miserable yard and +block of houses as her birthplace and home, she +passed to and fro in it shrinking now, with a +womanly consciousness that she was pointed out to +everyone. Since she had begun to work beyond +the walls, she had found it necessary to hide where +she lived, and to come and go secretly as she +could, between the free city and the iron gates, +outside of which she had never slept in her life. +Her original timidity had grown with this concealment, +and her light step and her little figure +shunned the thronged streets while they passed +along them.</p> + +<p>Worldly wise in hard and poor necessities, she +was innocent in all things else. Innocent, in the +mist through which she saw her father, and the +prison, and the dark living river that flowed +through it and flowed on.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;"> +<img src="images/illus-076.jpg" width="326" height="500" alt=""Mr. Clennam Followed Her Home." Page 65" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Mr. Clennam Followed Her Home."</span><br /> <div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_65">Page 65</a></div> +</div> + +<p>This was the life, and this the history, of +Little Dorrit, until the son of a lady, Mrs. Clennam, +to whose house Amy went to do needlework, +became interested in the pale, patient little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +creature. He followed her to her home one day +and when he found that it was the debtor's prison, +he walked in. Learning her sad history from +her father, Arthur Clennam resolved to do his best +to try to get him released and to help them all.</p> + +<p>One day when he was walking home with Amy +to try to find out the names of some of the people +her father owed money to, a voice was heard +calling, "Little mother, little mother," and a +strange figure came bouncing up to them and fell +down, scattering her basketful of potatoes on the +ground. "Oh Maggie," said Amy, "what a clumsy +child you are!"</p> + +<p>She was about eight and twenty, with large +bones, large features, large hands and feet, large +eyes, and no hair. Amy told Mr. Clennam that +Maggie was the granddaughter of her old nurse, +who had been dead a long time, and that her grandmother +had been very unkind to her and beat her.</p> + +<p>"When Maggie was ten years old she had a fever, +and she has never grown older since."</p> + +<p>"Ten years old," said Maggie. "But what a +nice hospital! So comfortable, wasn't it? Such +a 'e'v'nly place! Such beds there is there! Such +lemonades! Such oranges! Such delicious broth +and wine! Such chicking! Oh, <span class="smcap">ain't</span> it a delightful +place to stop at!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Poor Maggie thought that a hospital was the +nicest place in all the world, because she had +never seen another home as good. For years and +years she looked back to the hospital as a sort of +heaven on earth."</p> + +<p>"Then when she came out, her grandmother +did not know what to do with her, and was very +unkind. But after some time Maggie tried to +improve, and was very attentive and industrious +and now she can earn her own living entirely, +sir!"</p> + +<p>Amy did not say who had taken pains to teach +and encourage the poor half-witted creature, but +Mr. Clennam guessed from the name "little +mother" and the fondness of the poor creature for +Amy.</p> + +<p>One cold, wet evening, Amy and Maggie went +to Mr. Clennam's house to thank him for having +freed Edward from the prison, and on coming +out found it was too late to get home, as the gate +was locked. They tried to get in at Maggie's +lodgings, but, though they knocked twice, the +people were asleep. As Amy did not wish to +disturb them, they wandered about all night, +sometimes sitting at the gate of the prison, Maggie +shivering and whimpering.</p> + +<p>"It will soon be over, dear," said patient Amy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all very well for you, mother," said +Maggie, "but I'm a poor thing, only ten years old."</p> + +<p>Thanks to Mr. Clennam, a great change took +place in the fortunes of the family, and not long +after this wretched night it was discovered that +Mr. Dorrit was owner of a large property, and they +became very rich.</p> + +<p>But Little Dorrit never forgot, as, sad to say, +the rest of the family did, the friends who had been +kind to them in their poverty; and when, in his +turn, Mr. Clennam became a prisoner in the Marshalsea, +Little Dorrit came to comfort and console +him, and after many changes of fortune she +became his wife, and they lived happy ever after.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> +<h2>V.</h2> + +<h3>THE TOY-MAKER AND HIS BLIND DAUGHTER.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>CALEB PLUMMER and his blind daughter +lived alone in a little cracked nutshell of a +house. They were toy-makers, and their +house, which was so small that it might have +been knocked to pieces with a hammer, and carried +away in a cart, was stuck like a toadstool on +to the premises of Messrs. Gruff & Tackleton, +the toy merchants for whom they worked—the +latter of whom was himself both Gruff and +Tackleton in one.</div> + +<p>I am saying that Caleb and his blind daughter +lived here. I should say Caleb did, while his +daughter lived in an enchanted palace, which her +father's love had created for her. She did not +know that the ceilings were cracked, the plaster +tumbling down, and the woodwork rotten; that +everything was old and ugly and poverty-stricken +about her, and that her father was a gray-haired, +stooping old man, and the master for whom they +worked a hard and brutal taskmaster; oh, dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +no, she fancied a pretty, cosy, compact little +home full of tokens of a kind master's care, a +smart, brisk, gallant-looking father, and a handsome +and noble-looking toy merchant who was +an angel of goodness.</p> + +<p>This was all Caleb's doing. When his blind +daughter was a baby he had determined, in his +great love and pity for her, that her loss of sight +should be turned into a blessing, and her life as +happy as he could make it. And she was happy; +everything about her she saw with her father's +eyes, in the rainbow-colored light with which it +was his care and pleasure to invest it.</p> + +<p>Caleb and his daughter were at work together +in their usual working-room, which served them +for their ordinary living-room as well; and a +strange place it was. There were houses in it, +finished and unfinished, for dolls of all stations +in life. Tenement houses for dolls of moderate +means; kitchens and single apartments for dolls +of the lower classes; capital town residences for +dolls of high estate. Some of these establishments +were already furnished with a view to the +needs of dolls of little money; others could be +fitted on the most expensive scale, at a moment's +notice, from whole shelves of chairs and tables, +sofas, bedsteads, and upholstery. The nobility<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +and gentry and public in general, for whose use +these doll-houses were planned, lay, here and +there, in baskets, staring straight up at the ceiling; +but in showing their degrees in society, and +keeping them in their own stations (which is +found to be exceedingly difficult in real life), the +makers of these dolls had far improved on nature, +for they, not resting on such marks as satin, +cotton-print, and bits of rag, had made differences +which allowed of no mistake. Thus, the doll-lady +of high rank had wax limbs of perfect shape; but +only she and those of her grade; the next grade +in the social scale being made of leather; and the +next coarse linen stuff. As to the common-people, +they had just so many matches out of tinder-boxes +for their arms and legs, and there they were—established +in their place at once, beyond the +possibility of getting out of it.</p> + +<p>There were various other samples of his handicraft +besides dolls in Caleb Plummer's room. +There were Noah's Arks, in which the birds and +beasts were an uncommonly tight fit, I assure +you; though they could be crammed in, anyhow, +at the roof, and rattled and shaken into the +smallest compass. Most of these Noah's Arks +had knockers on the doors; perhaps not exactly +suitable to an Ark as suggestive of morning callers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +and a postman, yet a pleasant finish to the outside +of the building. There were scores of melancholy +little carts, which, when the wheels went round, +performed most doleful music. Many small +fiddles, drums, and other instruments of torture; +no end of cannon, shields, swords, spears, and +guns. There were little tumblers in red breeches, +incessantly swarming up high obstacles of red-tape, +and coming down, head first, upon the +other side; and there were innumerable old +gentlemen of respectable, even venerable, appearance, +flying like crazy people over pegs, +inserted, for the purpose, in their own street-doors. +There were beasts of all sorts, horses, in +particular, of every breed, from the spotted +barrel on four pegs, with a small tippet for a +mane, to the fine rocking horse on his highest +mettle.</p> + +<p>"You were out in the rain last night in your +beautiful new overcoat," said Bertha.</p> + +<p>"Yes, in my beautiful new overcoat," answered +Caleb, glancing to where a roughly-made garment +of sackcloth was hung up to dry.</p> + +<p>"How glad I am you bought it, father."</p> + +<p>"And of such a tailor! quite a fashionable +tailor; a bright blue cloth, with bright buttons; +it's a deal too good a coat for me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Too good!" cried the blind girl, stopping to +laugh and clap her hands—"as if anything was +too good for my handsome father, with his +smiling face, and black hair, and his straight +figure, as if <i>any</i> thing could be too good for my +handsome father!"</p> + +<p>"I'm half ashamed to wear it, though," said +Caleb, watching the effect of what he said upon +her brightening face; "upon my word. When I +hear the boys and people say behind me: 'Halloa! +Here's a swell!' I don't know which way to look. +And when the beggar wouldn't go away last +night; and, when I said I was a very common +man, said 'No, your honor! Bless your honor, +don't say that!' I was quite ashamed. I really +felt as if I hadn't a right to wear it."</p> + +<p>Happy blind girl! How merry she was in her +joy!</p> + +<p>"I see you, father," she said, clasping her hands, +"as plainly as if I had the eyes I never want when +you are with me. A blue coat!"——</p> + +<p>"Bright blue," said Caleb.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! Bright blue!" exclaimed the girl, +turning up her radiant face; "the color I can just +remember in the blessed sky! You told me it +was blue before! A bright blue coat——"</p> + +<p>"Made loose to the figure," suggested Caleb.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes! loose to the figure!" cried the blind girl, +laughing heartily; "and in it you, dear father, +with your merry eye, your smiling face, your free +step, and your dark hair; looking so young and +handsome!"</p> + +<p>"Halloa! Halloa!" said Caleb. "I shall be +vain presently."</p> + +<p>"I think you are already," cried the blind girl, +pointing at him, in her glee. "I know you, +father! Ha, ha, ha! I've found you out, you +see!"</p> + +<p>How different the picture in her mind from +Caleb, as he sat observing her! She had spoken +of his free step. She was right in that. For years +and years he never once had crossed that threshold +at his own slow pace, but with a footfall made +ready for her ear, and never had he, when his +heart was heaviest, forgotten the light tread that +was to render hers so cheerful and courageous.</p> + +<p>"There we are," said Caleb, falling back a pace +or two to form the better judgment of his work; +"as near the real thing as sixpen'orth of halfpence +is to sixpence. What a pity that the whole front +of the house opens at once! If there was only a +staircase in it now, and regular doors to the rooms +to go in at! but that's the worst of my calling. +I'm always fooling myself, and cheating myself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are speaking quite softly. You are not +tired, father?"</p> + +<p>"Tired," echoed Caleb, with a great burst in +his manner, "what should tire me, Bertha? +<i>I</i> was never tired. What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>To give the greater force to his words, he +stopped himself in an imitation of two small +stretching and yawning figures on the mantel-shelf, +who were shown as in one eternal state of weariness +from the waist upwards; and hummed a bit of a +song. It was a drinking song, something about +a sparkling bowl; and he sang it with an air of a +devil-may-care voice, that made his face a +thousand times more meager and more thoughtful +than ever.</p> + +<p>"What! you're singing, are you?" said Tackleton, +the toy-seller for whom he worked, putting +his head in at the door. "Go it! <i>I</i> can't +sing."</p> + +<p>Nobody would have thought that Tackleton +<i>could</i> sing. He hadn't what is generally termed +a singing face, by any means.</p> + +<p>"I can't afford to sing," said Tackleton. "I'm +glad you can. I hope you can afford to work, too. +Hardly time for both, I should think?"</p> + +<p>"If you could only see him, Bertha, how he's +winking at me!" whispered Caleb. "Such a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +to joke! you'd think, if you didn't know him, he +was in earnest, wouldn't you, now?"</p> + +<p>The blind girl smiled and nodded.</p> + +<p>"I am thanking you for the little tree, the +beautiful little tree," replied Bertha, bringing +forward a tiny rose-tree in blossom, which, by an +innocent story, Caleb had made her believe was +her master's gift, though he himself had gone +without a meal or two to buy it.</p> + +<p>"The bird that can sing and won't sing must +be made to sing, they say," grumbled Tackleton. +"What about the owl that can't sing, and oughtn't +to sing, and will sing; is there anything that he +should be made to do?"</p> + +<p>"The extent to which he's winking at this +moment!" whispered Caleb to his daughter. "Oh, +my gracious!"</p> + +<p>"Always merry and light-hearted with us!" +cried the smiling Bertha.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you're there, are you?" answered Tackleton. +"Poor idiot!"</p> + +<p>He really did believe she was an idiot; and he +founded the belief, I can't say whether consciously +or not, upon her being fond of him.</p> + +<p>"Well! and being there—how are you?" said +Tackleton, in his cross way.</p> + +<p>"Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +you can wish me to be. As happy as you would +make the whole world, if you could!"</p> + +<p>"Poor idiot!" muttered Tackleton. "No gleam +of reason! Not a gleam!"</p> + +<p>The blind girl took his hand and kissed it; held +it for a moment in her own two hands; and laid +her cheek against it tenderly, before releasing it. +There was such unspeakable affection and such +fervent gratitude in the act, that Tackleton himself +was moved to say, in a milder growl than +usual:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter now?"</p> + +<p>"Bertha!" said Tackleton, assuming, for once, +a little cordiality. "Come here."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I can come straight to you. You needn't +guide me," she rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you a secret, Bertha?"</p> + +<p>"If you will!" she answered, eagerly.</p> + +<p>How bright the darkened face! How adorned +with light the listening head!</p> + +<p>"This is the day on which little what's-her-name, +the spoilt child, Peerybingle's wife, pays +her regular visit to you—makes her ridiculous +picnic here; ain't it?" said Tackleton, with a +strong expression of distaste for the whole +concern.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Bertha. "This is the day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I thought so!" said Tackleton. "I should like +to join the party."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that, father!" cried the blind +girl in delight.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I hear it," murmured Caleb, with the +fixed look of a sleep-walker "but I do not believe +it. It's one of my lies, I've no doubt."</p> + +<p>"You see I—I want to bring the Peerybingles +a little more into company with May Fielding," +said Tackleton. "I am going to be married to +May."</p> + +<p>"Married!" cried the blind girl, starting from +him.</p> + +<p>"She's such a confounded idiot," muttered +Tackleton, "that I was afraid she'd never understand +me. Yes, Bertha! Married! Church, parson, +clerk, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, +favors, marrow-bones, cleavers, and all the +rest of the tomfoolery. A wedding, you know; +a wedding. Don't you know what a wedding is?"</p> + +<p>"I know," replied the blind girl, in a gentle tone. +"I understand!"</p> + +<p>"Do you?" muttered Tackleton. "It's more +than I expected. Well, on that account I want +you to join the party, and to bring May and her +mother. I'll send a little something or other, +before the afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +some comfortable trifle of that sort. You'll +expect me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered.</p> + +<p>She had drooped her head, and turned away; +and so stood, with her hands crossed, musing.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will," muttered Tackleton, +looking at her; "for you seem to have forgotten +all about it already. Caleb!"</p> + +<p>"I may venture to say, I'm here, I suppose," +thought Caleb. "Sir!"</p> + +<p>"Take care she don't forget what I've been +saying to her."</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> never forgets," returned Caleb. "It's +one of the few things she ain't clever in."</p> + +<p>"Every man thinks his own geese swans," +observed the toy merchant, with a shrug. "Poor +devil!"</p> + +<p>Having delivered himself of which remark with +infinite contempt, old Gruff & Tackleton withdrew.</p> + +<p>Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in +meditation. The gaiety had vanished from her +downcast face, and it was very sad. Three or +four times she shook her head, as if bewailing +some remembrance or some loss; but her sorrowful +reflections found no vent in words.</p> + +<p>"Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my +eyes; my patient, willing eyes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here they are," said Caleb. "Always ready. +They are more yours than mine, Bertha, any hour +in the four-and-twenty. What shall your eyes +do for you, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Look round the room, father."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Caleb. "No sooner said than +done, Bertha."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about it."</p> + +<p>"It's much the same as usual," said Caleb. +"Homely, but very snug. The gay colors on the +walls; the bright flowers on the plates and dishes; +the shining wood, where there are beams or panels; +the general cheerfulness and neatness of the building, +make it very pretty."</p> + +<p>Cheerful and neat it was, wherever Bertha's +hands could busy themselves. But nowhere else +were cheerfulness and neatness possible, in the +crazy shed which Caleb's fancy so transformed.</p> + +<p>"You have your working dress on, and are not +so gay as when you wear the handsome coat?" +said Bertha, touching him.</p> + +<p>"Not quite so gay," answered Caleb. "Pretty +brisk though."</p> + +<p>"Father," said the blind girl, drawing close to +his side and stealing one arm round his neck, +"tell me something about May. She is very fair."</p> + +<p>"She is, indeed," said Caleb. And she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +indeed. It was quite a rare thing to Caleb not to +have to draw on his invention.</p> + +<p>"Her hair is dark," said Bertha, pensively, +"darker than mine. Her voice is sweet and +musical I know. I have often loved to hear it. +Her shape—"</p> + +<p>"There's not a doll's in all the room to equal it," +said Caleb. "And her eyes—"</p> + +<p>He stopped; for Bertha had drawn closer round +his neck; and, from the arm that clung about +him, came a warning pressure which he understood +too well.</p> + +<p>He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, +and then fell back upon the song about the sparkling +bowl; the song which helped him through +all such difficulties.</p> + +<p>"Our friend, father; the one who has helped us +so many times, Mr. Tackleton. I am never tired +you know, of hearing about him. Now was I, +ever?" she said, hastily.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," answered Caleb. "And with +reason."</p> + +<p>"Ah! with how much reason?" cried the blind +girl, with such fervency that Caleb, though his +motives were pure, could not endure to meet her +face, but dropped his eyes, as if she could have +read in them his innocent deceit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then tell me again about him, dear father," +said Bertha. "Many times again! His face is +good, kind, and tender. Honest and true, I am +sure it is. The manly heart that tries to cloak +all favors with a show of roughness and unwillingness +beats in its every look and glance."</p> + +<p>"And makes it noble," added Caleb in his quiet +desperation.</p> + +<p>"And makes it noble!" cried the blind girl. +"He is older than May, father?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," said Caleb, reluctantly. "He's a +little older than May, but that don't signify."</p> + +<p>"Bertha," said Caleb softly, "what has happened? +How changed you are, my darling, in a +few hours—since this morning. <i>You</i> silent and +dull all day! What is it? Tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh father, father!" cried the blind girl, bursting +into tears. "Oh, my hard, hard fate!"</p> + +<p>Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he +answered her.</p> + +<p>"But think how cheerful and how happy you +have been, Bertha! How good, and how much +loved, by many people."</p> + +<p>"That strikes me to the heart, dear father! +Always so mindful of me! Always so kind to me!"</p> + +<p>Caleb was very much perplexed to understand +her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"To be—to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear," +he faltered, "is a great affliction; but——"</p> + +<p>"I have never felt it!" cried the blind girl. +"I have never felt it in its fullness. Never! I +have sometimes wished that I could see you, or +could see him; only once, dear father; only for +one little minute. But, father! Oh, my good, +gentle father, bear with me, if I am wicked!" said +the blind girl. "This is not the sorrow that so +weighs me down!"</p> + +<p>"Bertha, my dear!" said Caleb, "I have something +on my mind I want to tell you, while we are +alone. Hear me kindly! I have a confession to +make to you, my darling."</p> + +<p>"A confession, father?"</p> + +<p>"I have wandered from the truth and lost +myself, my child," said Caleb, with a pitiable look +on his bewildered face. "I have wandered from +the truth, intending to be kind to you; and have +been cruel."</p> + +<p>She turned her wonder-stricken face towards +him, and repeated, "Cruel! He cruel to me!" +cried Bertha, with a smile of incredulity.</p> + +<p>"Not meaning it, my child," said Caleb. "But +I have been; though I never suspected it till +yesterday. My dear blind daughter, hear me and +forgive me! The world you live in, heart of mine,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +doesn't exist as I have represented it. The eyes +you have trusted in have been false to you."</p> + +<p>She turned her wonder-stricken face towards +him still.</p> + +<p>"Your road in life was rough, my poor one," said +Caleb, "and I meant to smooth it for you. I have +altered objects, invented many things that never +have been, to make you happier. I have had +concealments from you, put deceptions on you, +God forgive me! and surrounded you with fancies."</p> + +<p>"But living people are not fancies?" she said +hurriedly, and turning very pale, and still retiring +from him. "You can't change them."</p> + +<p>"I have done so, Bertha," pleaded Caleb. +"There is one person that you know, my Dove—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father! why do you say I know?" she +answered in a tone of keen reproach. "What and +whom do I know! I, who have no leader! I, so +miserably blind!"</p> + +<p>In the anguish of her heart she stretched out +her hands, as if she were groping her way; then +spread them, in a manner most forlorn and sad, +upon her face.</p> + +<p>"The marriage that takes place to-day," said +Caleb, "is with a stern, sordid, grinding man. +A hard master to you and me, my dear, for many +years. Ugly in his looks and in his nature. Cold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +and callous always. Unlike what I have painted +him to you in everything, my child. In everything."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why," cried the blind girl, tortured, as it +seemed, almost beyond endurance, "why did you +ever do this? Why did you ever fill my heart so +full, and then come in, like death, and tear away +the objects of my love? Oh, heaven, how blind +I am! How helpless and alone!"</p> + +<p>Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered +no reply but in his grief.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what my home is. What it truly is."</p> + +<p>"It is a poor place, Bertha; very poor and bare +indeed. The house will scarcely keep out wind +and rain another winter. It is as roughly shielded +from the weather, Bertha, as your poor father in +his sackcloth coat."</p> + +<p>"Those presents that I took such care of, that +came almost at my wish, and were so dearly welcome +to me," she said, trembling; "where did they +come from?"</p> + +<p>Caleb did not answer. She knew already, and +was silent.</p> + +<p>"I see, I understand," said Bertha, "and now +I am looking at you, at my kind, loving compassionate +father, tell me what is he like?"</p> + +<p>"An old man, my child; thin, bent, gray-haired,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +worn-out with hard work and sorrow; a weak, +foolish, deceitful old man."</p> + +<p>The blind girl threw herself on her knees before +him, and took his gray head in her arms. "It is +my sight, it is my sight restored," she cried. +"I have been blind, but now I see; I have never +till now truly seen my father. Does he think that +there is a gay, handsome father in this earth that +I could love so dearly, cherish so devotedly, as +this worn and gray-headed old man? Father +there is not a gray hair on your head that shall be +forgotten in my prayers and thanks to heaven."</p> + +<p>"My Bertha!" sobbed Caleb, "and the brisk +smart father in the blue coat—he's gone, my +child."</p> + +<p>"Dearest father, no, he's not gone, nothing is +gone, everything I loved and believed in is here in +this worn, old father of mine, and more—oh, so +much more, too! I have been happy and contented, +but I shall be happier and more contented +still, now that I know what you are. I am <i>not</i> +blind, father, any longer."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> +<h2>VI.</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE NELL.</h3> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/illus-099.jpg" width="319" height="500" alt="Little Nell and Her Grandfather. Page 86" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Little Nell and Her Grandfather.</span> <div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_86"> Page 86</a></div> +</div> +<div class='cap'>THE house where little Nell and her grandfather +lived was one of those places where +old and curious things were kept, one of +those old houses which seem to crouch in odd +corners of the town, and to hide their musty +treasures from the public eye in jealousy and +distrust. There were suits of mail standing like +ghosts in armor, here and there; curious carvings +brought from monkish cloisters; rusty +weapons of various kinds; distorted figures in +china, and wood, and iron, and ivory; tapestry, +and strange furniture that might have been designed +in dreams; and in the old, dark, dismal +rooms there lived alone together the man and a +child—his grandchild, Little Nell. Solitary and +dull as was her life, the innocent and cheerful +spirit of the child found happiness in all things, +and through the dim rooms of the old curiosity +shop Little Nell went singing, moving with gay +and lightsome step.</div> + + +<p>But gradually over the old man, whom she so +tenderly loved, there stole a sad change. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +became thoughtful, sad and wretched. He had +no sleep or rest but that which he took by day in +his easy-chair; for every night, and all night long, +he was away from home. To the child it seemed +that her grandfather's love for her increased, even +with the hidden grief by which she saw him struck +down. And to see him sorrowful, and not to +know the cause of his sorrow; to see him growing +pale and weak under his trouble of mind, so +weighed upon her gentle spirit that at times she +felt as though her heart must break.</p> + +<p>At last the time came when the old man's +feeble frame could bear up no longer against his +hidden care. A raging fever seized him, and, as +he lay delirious or insensible through many weeks, +Nell learned that the house which sheltered them +was theirs no longer; that in the future they would +be very poor; that they would scarcely have +bread to eat. At length the old man began to +mend, but his mind was weakened.</p> + +<p>He would sit for hours together, with Nell's +small hand in his, playing with the fingers, and +sometimes stopping to smooth her hair or kiss +her brow; and when he saw that tears were glistening +in her eyes he would look amazed. As the +time drew near when they must leave the house, +he made no reference to the necessity of finding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +other shelter. An indistinct idea he had that the +child was desolate and in need of help; though he +seemed unable to understand their real position +more distinctly. But a change came upon him +one evening, as he and Nell sat silently together.</p> + +<p>"Let us speak softly, Nell," he said. "Hush! +for if they knew our purpose they would say that +I was mad, and take thee from me. We will not +stop here another day. We will travel afoot +through the fields and woods, and trust ourselves +to God in the places where He dwells. To-morrow +morning, dear, we'll turn our faces from this scene +of sorrow, and be as free and happy as the birds."</p> + +<p>The child's heart beat high with hope and confidence. +She had no thought of hunger, or cold, +or thirst, or suffering. To her it seemed that they +might beg their way from door to door in happiness, +so that they were together.</p> + +<p>When the day began to glimmer they stole out +of the house, and, passing into the street, stood +still.</p> + +<p>"Which way?" asked the child.</p> + +<p>The old man looked doubtfully and helplessly +at her, and shook his head. It was plain that she +was thenceforth his guide and leader. The child +felt it, but had no doubts or misgivings, and, +putting her hand in his, led him gently away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +Forth from the city, while it yet was asleep went +the two poor wanderers, going, they knew not +whither.</p> + +<p>They passed through the long, deserted streets, +in the glad light of early morning, until these +streets dwindled away, and the open country was +about them. They walked all day, and slept +that night at a small cottage where beds were let +to travelers. The sun was setting on the second +day of their journey, and they were jaded and +worn out with walking, when, following a path +which led through a churchyard to the town where +they were to spend the night, they fell in with two +traveling showmen, the exhibitors or keepers +of a Punch and Judy show. These two men +raised their eyes when the old man and his young +companion were close upon them. One of them, +the real exhibitor, no doubt, was a little, merry-faced +man with a twinkling eye and a red nose, +who seemed to be something like old Punch himself. +The other—that was he who took the +money—had rather a careful and cautious look, +which perhaps came from his business also.</p> + +<p>The merry man was the first to greet the +strangers with a nod; and following the old man's +eyes, he observed that perhaps that was the first +time he had ever seen a Punch off the stage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why do you come here to do this?" said the +old man sitting down beside them, and looking at +the figures with extreme delight.</p> + +<p>"Why, you see," rejoined the little man, "we're +putting up for to-night at the public house yonder, +and it wouldn't do to let 'em see the present company +undergoing repair."</p> + +<p>"No!" cried the old man, making signs to Nell +to listen, "why not, eh? why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because it would destroy all the reality of the +show and take away all the interest, wouldn't it?" +replied the little man. "Would you care a +ha'penny for the Lord Chancellor if you know'd +him in private and without his wig?—certainly +not."<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + +<p>"Good!" said the old man, venturing to touch +one of the puppets, and drawing away his hand +with a shrill laugh. "Are you going to show 'em +to-night? are you?"</p> + +<p>"That is the purpose, governor," replied the +other, "and unless I'm much mistaken, Tommy +Codlin is a-calculating at this minute what we've +lost through your coming upon us. Cheer up, +Tommy, it can't be much."</p> + +<p>The little man accompanied these latter words<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +with a wink, expressive of the estimate he had +formed of the travelers' pocketbook.</p> + +<p>To this Mr. Codlin, who had a surly, grumbling +manner, replied, as he twitched Punch off the +tombstone and flung him into the box:</p> + +<p>"I don't care if we haven't lost a farden, but +you're too free. If you stood in front of the +curtain and see the public's faces as I do, you'd +know human natur' better."</p> + +<p>Turning over the figures in the box like one who +knew and despised them, Mr. Codlin drew one +forth and held it up for the inspection of his friend:</p> + +<p>"Look here; here's all this Judy's clothes falling +to pieces again. You haven't got a needle and +thread, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>The little man shook his head and scratched it +sadly, as he contemplated this condition of a +principal performer in his show. Seeing that +they were at a loss, the child said, timidly:</p> + +<p>"I have a needle, sir, in my basket, and thread +too. Will you let me try to mend it for you? +I think I could do it neater than you could."</p> + +<p>Even Mr. Codlin had nothing to urge against a +proposal so seasonable. Nell, kneeling down +beside the box, was soon busily engaged in her +task, and finished it in a wonderful way.</p> + +<p>While she was thus at work, the merry little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +man looked at her with an interest which did not +appear to be any less when he glanced at her +helpless companion. When she had finished her +work he thanked her, and asked to what place +they were traveling.</p> + +<p>"N—no farther to-night, I think," said the +child, looking toward her grandfather.</p> + +<p>"If you're wanting a place to stop at," the man +remarked. "I should advise you to take up at the +same house with us. That's it. The long low, +white house there. It's very cheap."</p> + +<p>They went to the little inn, and when they had +been refreshed, the whole house hurried away into +an empty stable where the show stood, and where, +by the light of a few flaring candles stuck round +a hoop which hung by a line from the ceiling, it +was to be forthwith shown.</p> + +<p>And now Mr. Thomas Codlin, after blowing +away at the Pan's pipes, took his station on one +side of the curtain which concealed the mover of +the figures, and, putting his hands in his pockets, +prepared to reply to all questions and remarks +of Punch, and to make a pretence of being his +most intimate private friend, of believing in him +to the fullest and most unlimited extent, of +knowing that Mr. Punch enjoyed day and night +a merry and glorious life in that temple, and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +he was at all times and under every circumstance +the same wise and joyful person that all present +then beheld him.</p> + +<p>The whole performance was applauded until +the old stable rang, and gifts were showered in +with a liberality which testified yet more strongly +to the general delight. Among the laughter none +was more loud and frequent than the old man's. +Nell's was unheard, for she, poor child, with her +head drooping on his shoulder, had fallen asleep, +and slept too soundly to be roused by any of his +efforts to awaken her to a part in his glee.</p> + +<p>The supper was very good, but she was too +tired to eat, and yet would not leave the old man +until she had kissed him in his bed. He, happily +insensible to every care and anxiety, sat listening +with a vacant smile and admiring face to all that +his new friends said; and it was not until they +retired yawning to their room that he followed +the child up-stairs.</p> + +<p>She had a little money, but it was very little; +and when that was gone they must begin to beg. +There was one piece of gold among it, and a need +might come when its worth to them would be increased +a hundred times. It would be best to hide +this coin, and never show it unless their case was +entirely desperate, and nothing else was left them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>Her resolution taken, she sewed the piece of +gold into her dress, and going to bed with a lighter +heart sunk into a deep slumber.</p> + +<p>"And where are you going to-day?" said the +little man the following morning, addressing himself +to Nell.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I hardly know—we have not made up +our minds yet," replied the child.</p> + +<p>"We're going on to the races," said the little +man. "If that's your way and you like to have +us for company, let us travel together. If you +prefer going alone, only say the word and you'll +find that we sha'n't trouble you."</p> + +<p>"We'll go with you," said the old man. "Nell—with +them, with them."</p> + +<p>The child thought for a moment, and knowing +that she must shortly beg, and could scarcely hope +to do so at a better place than where crowds of +rich ladies and gentlemen were met together for +enjoyment, determined to go with these men so +far. She therefore thanked the little man for his +offer, and said, glancing timidly toward his friend, +that they would if there was no objection to their +staying with them as far as the race-town.</p> + +<p>And with these men they traveled forward on +the following day.</p> + +<p>They made two long days' journey with their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +new companions, passing through villages and +towns, and meeting upon one occasion with two +young people walking upon stilts, who were also +going to the races.</p> + +<p>And now they had come to the time when they +must beg their bread. Soon after sunrise the +second morning, she stole out, and, rambling into +some fields at a short distance, plucked a few wild +roses and such humble flowers, purposing to make +them into little nosegays and offer them to the +ladies in the carriages when the company arrived. +Her thoughts were not idle while she was thus +busy; when she returned and was seated beside +the old man, tying her flowers together, while the +two men lay dozing in the corner, she plucked him +by the sleeve, and, slightly glancing toward them, +said in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"Grandfather, don't look at those I talk of, and +don't seem as if I spoke of anything but what I am +about. What was that you told me before we +left the old house? That if they knew what we +were going to do, they would say that you were +mad, and part us?"</p> + +<p>The old man turned to her with a look of wild +terror; but she checked him by a look, and bidding +him hold some flowers while she tied them +up, and so bringing her lips closer to his ear, said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know that was what you told me. You +needn't speak, dear. I recollect it very well. It +was not likely that I should forget it. Grandfather, +I have heard these men say they think that +we have secretly left our friends, and mean to carry +us before some gentleman and have us taken care +of and sent back. If you let your hand tremble +so, we can never get away from them, but if you're +only quiet now, we shall do so easily."</p> + +<p>"How?" muttered the old man. "Dear Nell, +how? They will shut me up in a stone-room, +dark and cold, and chain me up to the wall, Nell—flog +me with whips, and never let me see thee +more!"</p> + +<p>"You're trembling again," said the child. +"Keep close to me all day. Never mind them, +don't look at them, but me. I shall find a time +when we can steal away. When I do, mind you +come with me, and do not stop or speak a word. +Hush! That's all."</p> + +<p>"Halloo! what are you up to, my dear?" said +Mr. Codlin, raising his head, and yawning.</p> + +<p>"Making some nosegays," the child replied; +"I am going to try to sell some, these three days +of the races. Will you have one—as a present, +I mean?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Codlin would have risen to receive it, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +the child hurried toward him and placed it in his +hand, and he stuck it in his button-hole.</p> + +<p>As the morning wore on, the tents at the race-course +assumed a gayer and more brilliant appearance, +and long lines of carriages came rolling softly +on the turf. Black-eyed gipsy girls, their heads +covered with showy handkerchiefs, came out to +tell fortunes, and pale, slender women with +wasted faces followed the footsteps of conjurers, +and counted the sixpences with anxious eyes long +before they were gained. As many of the children +as could be kept within bounds were stowed away, +with all the other signs of dirt and poverty, among +the donkeys, carts, and horses; and as many as +could not be thus disposed of ran in and out in all +directions, crept between people's legs and carriage +wheels, and came forth unharmed from under +horses' hoofs. The dancing-dogs, the stilts, the +little lady and the tall man, and all the other +attractions, with organs out of number and bands +innumerable, came out from the holes and corners +in which they had passed the night, and flourished +boldly in the sun.</p> + +<p>Along the uncleared course, Short led his party, +sounding the brazen trumpet and speaking in +the voice of Punch; and at his heels went Thomas +Codlin, bearing the show as usual, and keeping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +his eye on Nell and her grandfather, as they +rather lingered in the rear. The child bore upon +her arm the little basket with her flowers, and +sometimes stopped, with timid and modest looks, +to offer them at some gay carriage; but alas! there +were many bolder beggars there, gipsies who +promised husbands, and others skillful in their +trade; and although some ladies smiled gently +as they shook their heads, and others cried to the +gentlemen beside them, "See what a pretty face!" +they let the pretty face pass on, and never thought +that it looked tired or hungry.</p> + +<p>There was but one lady who seemed to understand +the child, and she was one who sat alone in +a handsome carriage, while two young men in +dashing clothes, who had just stepped out from it, +talked and laughed loudly at a little distance, +appearing to forget her, quite. There were many +ladies all around, but they turned their backs, or +looked another way, or at the two young men +(not unfavorably at <i>them</i>), and left her to herself. +The lady motioned away a gipsy woman, eager +to tell her fortune, saying that it was told already +and had been for some years, but called the child +toward her, and, taking her flowers, put money +into her trembling hand, and bade her go home +and keep at home.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>Many a time they went up and down those long, +long lines, seeing everything but the horses and +the race; when the bell rung to clear the course, +going back to rest among the carts and donkeys, +and not coming out again until the heat was over. +Many a time, too, was Punch displayed in the +full glory of his humor; but all this while the eye of +Thomas Codlin was upon them, and to escape +without notice was almost impossible.</p> + +<p>At length, late in the day, Mr. Codlin pitched +the show in a spot right in the middle of the +crowd, and the Punch and Judy were surrounded +by people who were watching the performance.</p> + +<p>Short was moving the images, and knocking +them in the fury of the combat against the sides +of the show, the people were looking on with +laughing faces, and Mr. Codlin's face showed a +grim smile as his roving eye detected the hands of +thieves in the crowd going into waistcoat pockets. +If Nell and her grandfather were ever to get away +unseen, that was the very moment. They seized +it, and fled.</p> + +<p>They made a path through booths and carriages +and throngs of people, and never once stopped to +look behind. The bell was ringing, and the +course was cleared by the time they reached the +ropes, but they dashed across it, paying no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +attention to the shouts and screeching that +assailed them for breaking in it, and, creeping +under the brow of the hill at a quick pace, made +for the open fields. At last they were free from +Codlin and Short.</p> + +<p>That night they reached a little village in a +woody hollow. The village schoolmaster, a good +and gentle man, pitying their weariness, and +attracted by the child's sweetness and modesty, +gave them a lodging for the night; nor would he +let them leave him until two days more had +passed.</p> + +<p>They journeyed on, when the time came that +they must wander forth again, by pleasant +country lanes; and as they passed, watching the +birds that perched and twittered in the branches +overhead, or listening to the songs that broke the +happy silence, their hearts were peaceful and free +from care. But by-and-by they came to a long +winding road which lengthened out far into the +distance, and though they still kept on, it was at +a much slower pace, for they were now very +weary.</p> + +<p>The afternoon had worn away into a beautiful +evening, when they arrived at a point where the +road made a sharp turn and struck across a +common. On the border of this common, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +close to the hedge which divided it from the cultivated +fields, a caravan was drawn up to rest; +upon which they came so suddenly that they could +not have avoided it if they would. Do you know +what a "caravan" is? It is a sort of gipsy house +on wheels in which people live, while the house +moves from place to place.</p> + +<p>It was not a shabby, dingy, dusty cart, but a +smart little house with white dimity curtains +hung over the windows, and window-shutters of +green picked out with panels of a staring red, in +which happily-contrasted colors the whole house +shone brilliant. Neither was it a poor caravan +drawn by a single donkey or feeble old horse, for a +pair of horses in pretty good condition were +released from the shafts and grazing on the frouzy +grass. Neither was it a gipsy caravan, for at the +open door (graced with a bright brass knocker) +sat a Christian lady, stout and comfortable to look +upon, who wore a large bonnet trembling with +bows. And that it was not a caravan of poor +people was clear from what this lady was doing; +for she was taking her tea. The tea-things, +including a bottle of rather suspicious looks and +a cold knuckle of ham, were set forth upon a +drum, covered with a white napkin; and there, as +if at the most convenient round-table in all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +world, sat this roving lady, taking her tea and +enjoying the prospect.</p> + +<p>It happened at that moment that the lady of +the caravan had her cup (which, that everything +about her might be of a stout and comfortable +kind, was a breakfast cup) to her lips, and that +having her eyes lifted to the sky in her enjoyment +of the full flavor of her tea, it happened that, being +thus agreeably engaged, she did not see the +travelers when they first came up. It was not +until she was in the act of setting down the cup, +and drawing a long breath after the exertion of +swallowing its contents, that the lady of the +caravan beheld an old man and a young child +walking slowly by, and glancing at her proceedings +with eyes of modest, but hungry admiration.</p> + +<p>"Hey!" cried the lady of the caravan, scooping +the crumbs out of her lap and swallowing +the same before wiping her lips. "Yes, to be +sure———Who won the Helter-Skelter Plate, +child?"</p> + +<p>"Won what, ma'am?" asked Nell.</p> + +<p>"The Helter-Skelter Plate at the races, child—the +plate that was run for on the second day."</p> + +<p>"On the second day, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Second day! Yes, second day," repeated +the lady, with an air of impatience. "Can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +you say who won the Helter-Skelter Plate when +you're asked the question civilly?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Don't know!" repeated the lady of the caravan; +"why, you were there. I saw you with my +own eyes."</p> + +<p>Nell was not a little alarmed to hear this, supposing +that the lady might be intimately acquainted +with the firm of Short and Codlin; but +what followed tended to put her at her ease.</p> + +<p>"And very sorry I was," said the lady of the +caravan, "to see you in company with a Punch—a +low, common, vulgar wretch, that people should +scorn to look at."</p> + +<p>"I was not there by choice," returned the child; +"we didn't know our way, and the two men were +very kind to us, and let us travel with them. +Do you—do you know them, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Know 'em, child?" cried the lady of the caravan, +in a sort of shriek. "Know <i>them</i>! But +you're young and ignorant, and that's your excuse +for asking sich a question. Do I look as if I +know'd 'em? does the caravan look as if <i>it</i> know'd +'em?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, no," said the child, fearing she +had committed some grievous fault. "I beg +your pardon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>The lady of the caravan was in the act of +gathering her tea things together preparing to clear +the table, but noting the child's anxious manner, +she hesitated and stopped. The child courtesied, +and, giving her hand to the old man, had already +got some fifty yards or so away, when the lady of +the caravan called to her to return.</p> + +<p>"Come nearer, nearer still," said she, beckoning +to her to ascend the steps. "Are you hungry, +child?"</p> + +<p>"Not very, but we are tired, and it's—it <i>is</i> a +long way———"</p> + +<p>"Well, hungry or not, you had better have some +tea," rejoined her new acquaintance. "I suppose +you are agreeable to that old gentleman?"</p> + +<p>The grandfather humbly pulled off his hat and +thanked her. The lady of the caravan then bade +him come up the steps likewise, but the drum +proving an inconvenient table for two, they went +down again, and sat upon the grass, where she +handed down to them the tea-tray, the bread and +butter, and the knuckle of ham.</p> + +<p>"Set 'em out near the hind wheels child, that's +the best place," said their friend, superintending +the arrangement from above. "Now hand up the +tea-pot for a little more hot water and a pinch of +fresh tea, and then both of you eat and drink as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +much as you can, and don't spare anything; +that's all I ask of you."</p> + +<p>The mistress of the caravan, saying the girl and +her grandfather could not be very heavy, invited +them to go along with them for a while, for which +Nell thanked her with all her heart.</p> + +<p>When they had traveled slowly forward for +some short distance, Nell ventured to steal a look +round the caravan and observe it more closely. +One-half of it—that part in which the comfortable +proprietress was then seated—was carpeted, and +so divided the farther end as to form a sleeping-place, +made after the fashion of a berth on board +ship, which was shaded, like the little windows, +with fair white curtains, and looked comfortable +enough, though by what kind of gymnastic exercise +the lady of the caravan ever contrived to +get into it was a mystery. The other half +served for a kitchen, and was fitted up with a stove +whose small chimney passed through the roof.</p> + +<p>The mistress sat looking at the child for a long +time in silence, and then, getting up, brought out +from a corner a large roll of canvas about a yard +in width, which she laid upon the floor and spread +open with her foot until it nearly reached from one +end of the caravan to the other.</p> + +<p>"There, child," she said, "read that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nell walked down it, and read aloud, in enormous +black letters, the inscription, "<span class="smcap">Jarley's +Wax-work</span>."</p> + +<p>"Read it again," said the lady, complacently.</p> + +<p>"Jarley's Wax-work," repeated Nell.</p> + +<p>"That's me," said the lady. "I am Mrs. +Jarley."</p> + +<p>Giving the child an encouraging look, the lady +of the caravan unfolded another scroll, whereon +was the inscription, "One hundred figures the +full size of life;" and then another scroll, on which +was written, "The only stupendous collection +of real wax-work in the world;" and then several +smaller scrolls, with such inscriptions as "Now +exhibiting within"—"The genuine and only +Jarley"—"Jarley's unrivaled collection"—"Jarley +is the delight of the Nobility and Gentry"—"The +Royal Family are the patrons of Jarley." +When she had exhibited these large painted signs +to the astonished child, she brought forth specimens +of the lesser notices in the shape of hand-bills, +some of which were printed in the form of +verses on popular times, as "Believe me if all +Jarley's wax-work so rare"—"I saw thy show +in youthful prime"—"Over the water to Jarley;" +while, to satisfy all tastes, others were composed +with a view to the lighter and merrier spirits, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +a verse on the favorite air of "If I had a donkey," +beginning</p> + +<div class='poem'> +If I know'd a donkey wot wouldn't go<br /> +To see Mrs. Jarley's wax-work show,<br /> +Do you think I'd own him?<br /> +Oh no, no!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Then run to Jarley's———</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>besides several compositions in prose, pretending +to be dialogues between the Emperor of China +and an oyster.</div> + +<p>"I never saw any wax-work, ma'am," said +Nell. "Is it funnier than Punch?"</p> + +<p>"Funnier!" said Mrs. Jarley in a shrill voice. +"It is not funny at all."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Nell, with all possible humility.</p> + +<p>"It isn't funny at all," repeated Mrs. Jarley. +"It's calm and—what's that word again—critical?—no—classical, +that's it—it's calm and +classical. No low beatings and knockings about, +no jokings and squeakings like your precious +Punches, but always the same, with a constantly +unchanging air of coldness and dignity; and so like +life that, if wax-work only spoke and walked about +you'd hardly know the difference. I won't go +so far as to say that, as it is, I've seen wax-work +quite like life, but I've certainly seen some life +that was exactly like wax-work."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>This conference at length concluded, she beckoned +Nell to sit down.</p> + +<p>"And the old gentleman, too," said Mrs. Jarley; +"for I want to have a word with him. Do you +want a good place for your granddaughter, +master? If you do, I can put her in the way of +getting one. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>"I can't leave her," answered the old man. +"We can't separate. What would become of +me without her?"</p> + +<p>"If you're really ready to employ yourself," +said Mrs. Jarley, "there would be plenty for you +to do in the way of helping to dust the figures, +and take the checks, and so forth. What I +want your granddaughter for is to point 'em out +to the company; they would be soon learned and +she has a way with her that people wouldn't +think unpleasant, though she <i>does</i> come after +me; for I've been always accustomed to go round +with visitors myself, which I should keep on doing +now, only that my spirits make a little rest absolutely +necessary. It's not a common offer, +bear in mind," said the lady, rising into the tone +and manner in which she was accustomed to address +her audiences; "it's Jarley's wax-work, remember. +The duty's very light and genteel, +the company particularly select, the exhibition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +takes place in assembly-rooms, town-halls, large +rooms at inns, or auction galleries. There is none +of your open-air wondering at Jarley's, recollect; +there is no tarpaulin and sawdust at Jarley's, +remember. Every promise made in the hand-bills +is kept to the utmost, and the whole forms +an effect of splendor hitherto unknown in this +kingdom. Remember that the price of admission +is only sixpence, and that this is an opportunity +which may never occur again!"</p> + +<p>"We are very much obliged to you, ma'am," +said Nell, "and thankfully accept your offer."</p> + +<p>"And you'll never be sorry for it," returned +Mrs. Jarley. "I'm pretty sure of that. So +as that's all settled, let us have a bit of +supper."</p> + +<p>Rumbling along with most unwonted noise, the +caravan stopped at last at the place of exhibition, +where Nell came down from the wagon among an +admiring group of children, who evidently supposed +her to be an important part of the curiosities, +and were almost ready to believe that her +grandfather was a cunning device in wax. The +chests were taken out of the van for the figures +with all haste, and taken in to be unlocked by +Mrs. Jarley, who, attended by George and the +driver, arranged their contents (consisting of red<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +festoons and other ornamental work) to make the +best show in the decoration of the room.</p> + +<p>When the festoons were all put up as tastily as +they might be, the wonderful collection was uncovered; +and there were shown, on a raised platform +some two feet from the floor, running round +the room and parted from the rude public by a +crimson rope, breast high, a large number of +sprightly waxen images of famous people, singly +and in groups, clad in glittering dresses of various +climes and times, and standing more or less unsteadily +upon their legs, with their eyes very wide +open, and their nostrils very much inflated, and +the muscles of their legs, and arms very strongly +developed, and all their faces expressing great +surprise. All the gentlemen were very narrow +in the breast, and very blue about the beards; and +all the ladies were wonderful figures; and all +the ladies and all the gentlemen were looking +intensely nowhere, and staring with tremendous +earnestness at nothing.</p> + +<p>When Nell had shown her first wonder at +this glorious sight, Mrs. Jarley ordered the +room to be cleared of all but herself and the child, +and, sitting herself down in an arm-chair in the +center, presented Nell with a willow wand, long +used by herself for pointing out the characters,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +and was at great pains to instruct her in her +duty.</p> + +<p>"That," said Mrs. Jarley, in her exhibition +tone, as Nell touched a figure at the beginning of +the platform, "is an unfortunate maid of honor +in the time of Queen Elizabeth, who died from +pricking her finger in consequence of working +upon a Sunday. Observe the blood which is +trickling from her finger; also the gold-eyed +needle of the period, with which she is at work."</p> + +<p>All this Nell repeated twice or thrice—pointing +to the finger and the needle at the right times; +and then passed on to the next.</p> + +<p>"That, ladies and gentlemen," said Mrs. Jarley, +"is Jasper Packlemerton, of terrible memory, +who courted and married fourteen wives, and +destroyed them all, by tickling the soles of their +feet when they were sleeping in the consciousness +of innocence and virtue. On being brought to the +scaffold and asked if he was sorry for what he had +done, he replied yes, he was sorry for having let +'em off so easy, and hoped all Christian husbands +would pardon him the offense. Let this be a +warning to all young ladies to be particular in +the character of the gentlemen of their choice. +Observe that his fingers are curled as if in the act +of tickling, and that his face is represented with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +wink, as he appeared when committing his barbarous +murders."</p> + +<p>When Nell knew all about Mr. Packlemerton, +and could say it without faltering, Mrs. Jarley +passed on to the fat man, and then to the thin +man, the tall man, the short man, the old lady +who died of dancing at a hundred and thirty-two, +the wild boy of the woods, the woman who poisoned +fourteen families with pickled walnuts, +and other historical characters and interesting +but misguided individuals. And so well did Nell +profit by her instructions, and so apt was she to +remember them, that by the time they had been +shut up together for a couple of hours, she was in +full possession of the history of the whole establishment, +and perfectly able to tell the stories of the +wax-work to visitors.</p> + +<p>For some time her life and the life of the poor +vacant old man passed quietly and happily. They +traveled from place to place with Mrs. Jarley; +Nell spoke her piece, with the wand in her hand, +before the waxen images; and her grandfather +in a dull way dusted the images when he was told +to do so.</p> + +<p>But heavier sorrow was yet to come. One +night, a holiday night for them, Neil and her +grandfather went out to walk. A terrible thunderstorm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +coming on, they were forced to take +refuge in a small public house; and here they saw +some shabbily dressed and wicked looking men +were playing cards. The old man watched them +with increasing interest and excitement, until his +whole appearance underwent a complete change. +His face was flushed and eager, his teeth set. +With a hand that trembled violently he seized +Nell's little purse, and in spite of her pleadings +joined in the game, gambling with such a savage +thirst for gain that the distressed and frightened +child could almost better have borne to see him +dead. It was long after midnight when the play +came to an end; and they were forced to remain +where they were until the morning. And in the +night the child was wakened from her troubled +sleep to find a figure in the room—a figure busying +its hands about her garments, while its face +was turned to her, listening and looking lest she +should awake. It was her grandfather himself, +his white face pinched and sharpened by the greediness +which made his eyes unnaturally bright, +counting the money of which his hands were +robbing her.</p> + +<p>Evening after evening, after that night, the +old man would steal away, not to return until +the night was far spent, demanding, wildly, money.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +And at last there came an hour when the child +overheard him, tempted beyond his feeble powers +of resistance, undertake to find more money to +feed the desperate passion which had laid its hold +upon his weakness by robbing the kind Mrs. +Jarley, who had done so much for them. The +poor old man had become so weak in his mind, +that he did not understand how wicked was his +act.</p> + +<p>That night the child took her grandfather by +the hand and led him forth. Through the strait +streets and narrow outskirts of the town their +trembling feet passed quickly; the child sustained +by one idea—that they were flying from +wickedness and disgrace, and that she could save +her grandfather only by her firmness unaided by +one word of advice or any helping hand; the old +man following her as though she had been an +angel messenger sent to lead him where she would.</p> + +<p>The hardest part of all their wanderings was +now before them. They slept in the open air +that night, and on the following morning some +men offered to take them a long distance on their +barge on the river. These men, though they +were not unkindly, were very rugged, noisy +fellows, and they drank and quarreled fearfully +among themselves, to Nell's inexpressible terror.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +It rained, too, heavily, and she was wet and cold. +At last they reached the great city whither the +barge was bound, and here they wandered up +and down, being now penniless, and watched the +faces of those who passed, to find among them a +ray of encouragement or hope. Ill in body, and +sick to death at heart, the child needed her utmost +courage and will even to creep along.</p> + +<p>They lay down that night, and the next night +too, with nothing between them and the sky; a +penny loaf was all they had had that day, and +when the third morning came, it found the child +much weaker, yet she made no complaint. The +great city with its many factories hemmed them +in on every side, and seemed to shut out hope.</p> + +<p>Faint and spiritless as they were, its streets +were terrible to them. After humbly asking for +relief at some few doors, and being driven away, +they agreed to make their way out of it as speedily +as they could, and try if the people living in some +lone house beyond would have more pity on their +worn out state.</p> + +<p>They were dragging themselves along through +the last street, and the child felt that the time +was close at hand when her enfeebled powers +would bear no more. There appeared before +them, at this moment, going in the same direction<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +as themselves, a traveler on foot, who, with a +bundle of clothing strapped to his back, leaned +upon a stout stick as he walked, and read from a +book which he held in his other hand.</p> + +<p>It was not an easy matter to come up with him +and ask his aid, for he walked fast, and was a +little distance in advance. At length he stopped, +to look more attentively at some passage in his +book. Encouraged by a ray of hope, the child +shot on before her grandfather, and, going close to +the stranger without rousing him by the sound of +her footsteps, began, in a few faint words, to beg +his help.</p> + +<p>He turned his head. The child clapped her +hands together, uttered a wild shriek, and fell +senseless at his feet.</p> + +<p>It was the poor schoolmaster. No other than +the poor schoolmaster. Scarcely less moved and +surprised by the sight of the child than she had +been on recognizing him, he stood, for a moment, +silent, without even the presence of mind to raise +her from the ground.</p> + +<p>But, quickly recovering himself, he threw down +his stick and book, and, dropping on one knee +beside her, tried simple means as came to his +mind, to restore her to herself; while her grandfather, +standing idly by, wrung his hands, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +begged her, with many words of love, to speak +to him, were it only a whisper.</p> + +<p>"She appears to be quite worn out," said the +schoolmaster, glancing upward into his face. +"You have used up all her strength, friend."</p> + +<p>"She is dying of want," answered the old man. +"I never thought how weak and ill she was till +now."</p> + +<p>Casting a look upon him, half-angry and half-pitiful, +the schoolmaster took the child in his +arms, and, bidding the old man gather up her +little basket and follow him directly, bore her +away at his utmost speed.</p> + +<p>There was a small inn within sight, to which, it +would seem, he had been walking when so unexpectedly +overtaken. Toward this place he hurried +with his unconscious burden, and rushing +into the kitchen, and calling upon the company +there assembled to make way for God's sake, laid +it down on a chair before the fire.</p> + +<p>The company, who rose in confusion on the +schoolmaster's entrance, did as people usually +do under such circumstances. Everybody called +for his or her favorite remedy, which nobody +brought; each cried for more air, at the same +time carefully shutting out what air there was, +by closing round the object of sympathy; and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +wondered why somebody else didn't do what it +never appeared to occur to them might be done +by themselves.</p> + +<p>The landlady, however, who had more readiness +and activity than any of them, and who seemed +to understand the case more quickly, soon came +running in, with a little hot medicine, followed by +her servant-girl, carrying vinegar, hartshorn, +smelling-salts, and such other restoratives; which, +being duly given, helped the child so far as to +enable her to thank them in a faint voice, and to +hold out her hand to the poor schoolmaster, who +stood, with an anxious face, near her side. +Without suffering her to speak another word, or +so much as to stir a finger any more, the women +straightway carried her off to bed; and, having +covered her up warm, bathed her cold feet, and +wrapped them in flannel, they sent a messenger for +the doctor.</p> + +<p>The doctor, who was a red-nosed gentleman +with a great bunch of seals dangling below a +waistcoat of ribbed black satin, arrived with all +speed, and taking his seat by the bedside of poor +Nell, drew out his watch, and felt her pulse. +Then he looked at her tongue, then he felt her +pulse again, and while he did so, he eyed the half-emptied +wine-glass as if in profound abstraction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should give her," said the doctor at length, +"a teaspoonful, every now and then, of hot +medicine."</p> + +<p>"Why, that's exactly what we've done, sir!" +said the delighted landlady.</p> + +<p>"I should also," observed the doctor, who had +passed the foot-bath on the stairs, "I should also," +said the doctor, in a very wise tone of voice, +"put her feet in hot water and wrap them up in +flannel. I should likewise," said the doctor, with +increased solemnity, "give her something light +for supper—the wing of a roasted chicken now———"</p> + +<p>"Why, goodness gracious me, sir, it's cooking +at the kitchen fire this instant!" cried the landlady. +And so indeed it was, for the schoolmaster had +ordered it to be put down, and it was getting on +so well that the doctor might have smelled it if he +had tried; perhaps he did.</p> + +<p>"You may then," said the doctor, rising +gravely, "give her a glass of hot mulled port-wine, +if she likes wine———"</p> + +<p>"And a piece of toast, sir?" suggested the landlady.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said the doctor, in a very dignified tone, +"And a toast—of bread. But be very particular +to make it of bread, if you please, ma'am."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>With which parting advice, slowly and solemnly +given, the doctor departed, leaving the whole +house in admiration of that wisdom which agreed +so closely with their own. Everybody said he was +a very shrewd doctor indeed, and knew perfectly +what people's bodies needed; which there appears +some reason to suppose he did.</p> + +<p>While her supper was preparing, the child fell +into a refreshing sleep, from which they were +obliged to rouse her when it was ready. As she +showed extraordinary uneasiness on learning that +her grandfather was below stairs, and as she was +greatly troubled at the thought of their being +apart, he took his supper with her. Finding her +still very anxious for the old man, they made him +up a bed in an inner room, to which he soon went. +The key of this room happened by good-fortune +to be on that side of the door which was in Nell's +room; she turned it on him when the landlady +had withdrawn, and crept to bed again with a +thankful heart.</p> + +<p>The schoolmaster sat for a long time smoking +his pipe by the kitchen fire, which was now +deserted, thinking, with a very happy face, on the +fortunate chance which had brought him at just +the right moment to the child's assistance.</p> + +<p>The schoolmaster, as it appeared, was on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +way to a new home. And when the child had +recovered somewhat from her hunger and weariness, +it was arranged that she and her grandfather +should go with him to the village whither he was +bound, and that he should endeavor to find them +some work by which they could get their +living.</p> + +<p>It was a lonely little village, lying among the +quiet country scenes Nell loved. And here, her +grandfather being peaceful and at rest, a great +calm fell upon the spirit of the child. Often she +would steal into the church, and, sitting down +among the quiet figures carved upon the tombs, +would think of the summer days and the bright +spring-time that would come; of the rays of sun +that would fall in, aslant those sleeping forms; +of the songs of birds, and the sweet air that would +steal in. What if the spot awakened thoughts +of death! It would be no pain to sleep amid such +sights and sounds as these. For the time was +drawing nearer every day when Nell was to rest +indeed. She never murmured or complained, +but faded like a light upon a summer's evening +and died. Day after day and all day long, the +old man, broken-hearted and with no love or care +for anything in life, would sit beside her grave +with her straw hat and the little basket she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +been used to carry, waiting till she should come +to him again. At last they found him lying dead +upon the stone. And in the church where they +had often prayed and mused and lingered, hand +in hand, the child and the old man slept together.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> The Lord Chancellor, it may be explained, is the highest judge in the +courts of England; and when in court always wears a great wig and a +robe.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2>VII.</h2> + +<h3>LITTLE DAVID COPPERFIELD.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>I, little David Copperfield, lived with my mother +in a pretty house in the village of Blunderstone +in Suffolk. I had never known my +father, who died before I could remember anything, +and I had neither brothers nor sisters. I +was fondly loved by my pretty young mother, +and our kind, good servant, Peggotty, and was +a very happy little fellow. We had very few +friends, and the only relation my mother talked +about was an aunt of my father's, a tall and +rather terrible old lady, from all accounts, who +had once been to see us when I was quite a tiny +baby, and had been so angry to find I was not a +little girl that she had left the house quite offended, +and had never been heard of since. One +visitor, a tall dark gentleman, I did not like at +all, and was rather inclined to be jealous that my +mother should be so friendly with the stranger.</div> + +<p>Peggotty and I were sitting one night by the +parlor fire, alone. I had been reading to Peggotty +about crocodiles. I was tired of reading, and +dead sleepy; but having leave, as a high treat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +to sit up until my mother came home from spending +the evening at a neighbor's, I would rather +have died upon my post (of course) than have +gone to bed. I had reached that stage of sleepiness +when Peggotty seemed to swell and grow +immensely large. I propped my eyelids open +with my two forefingers, and looked perseveringly +at her as she sat at work; at the little house with +a thatched roof, where she kept her yard-measure; +at her work-box with a sliding-lid, with a view +of St. Paul's Cathedral (with a pink dome) +painted on the top; at the brass thimble on her +finger; at herself, whom I thought lovely. I felt +so sleepy that I knew if I lost sight of anything, +for a moment, I was gone.</p> + +<p>"Peggotty," says I, suddenly, "were you ever +married?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, Master Davy!" replied Peggotty. +"What's put marriage in your head?"</p> + +<p>She answered with such a start that it quite +awoke me. And then she stopped in her work and +looked at me, with her needle drawn out to its +thread's length.</p> + +<p>"But <i>were</i> you ever married, Peggotty?" says +I. "You are a very handsome woman, ain't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Me handsome, Davy!" said Peggotty. "Lawk,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +no, my dear! But what put marriage in your +head?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know! You mustn't marry more than +one person at a time, may you, Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," says Peggotty, with the +promptest decision.</p> + +<p>"But if you marry a person, and the person +dies, why then you may marry another person, +mayn't you, Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>"You <span class="smcap">may</span>," says Peggotty, "if you choose, my +dear. That's a matter of opinion."</p> + +<p>"But what is your opinion, Peggotty?" said I.</p> + +<p>I asked her and looked curiously at her, because +she looked so curiously at me.</p> + +<p>"My opinion is," said Peggotty, taking her eyes +from me, after waiting a little, and going on with +her work, "that I never was married myself, +Master Davy, and that I don't expect to be. +That's all I know about the subject."</p> + +<p>"You ain't cross, I suppose, Peggotty, are you?" +said I, after sitting quiet for a minute.</p> + +<p>I really thought she was, she had been so short +with me; but I was quite mistaken; for she laid +aside her work (which was a stocking of her own) +and opening her arms wide, took my curly head +within them, and gave it a good squeeze. I +know it was a good squeeze, because, being very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +plump, whenever she made any little exertion +after she was dressed, some of the buttons on the +back of her flew off. And I recollect two bursting +to the opposite side of the parlor while she was +hugging me.</p> + +<p>One day Peggotty asked me if I would like to +go with her on a visit to her brother at Yarmouth.</p> + +<p>"Is your brother an agreeable man, Peggotty?" +I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what an agreeable man he is!" cried Peggotty. +"Then there's the sea, and the boats and +ships, and the fishermen, and the beach. And +'Am to play with."</p> + +<p>Ham was her nephew. I was quite anxious +to go when I heard of all these delights; but my +mother, what would she do all alone? Peggotty +told me my mother was going to pay a visit to +some friends, and would be sure to let me go. +So all was arranged, and we were to start the +next day in the carrier's cart. I was so eager that +I wanted to put my hat and coat on the night +before! But when the time came to say good-by +to my dear mamma, I cried a little, for I had +never left her before. It was rather a slow way of +traveling, and I was very tired and sleepy when I +arrived at Yarmouth, and found Ham waiting to +meet me. He was a great strong fellow, six feet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +high, and took me on his back and the box under +his arm to carry both to the house. I was delighted +to find that this house was made of a real big +black boat, with a door and windows cut in the +side, and an iron funnel sticking out of the roof +for a chimney. Inside, it was very cozy and clean, +and I had a tiny bedroom in the stern. I was +very much pleased to find a dear little girl, about +my own age, to play with, and after tea I said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Peggotty."</p> + +<p>"Sir," says he.</p> + +<p>"Did you give your son the name of Ham +because you lived in a sort of ark?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Peggotty seemed to think it a deep idea, +but answered:</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I never giv' him no name."</p> + +<p>"Who gave him that name, then?" said I, +putting question number two of the catechism to +Mr. Peggotty.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, his father giv' it him," said Mr. +Peggotty.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were his father!"</p> + +<p>"My brother Joe was <i>his</i> father," said Mr. +Peggotty.</p> + +<p>"Dead, Mr. Peggotty?" I hinted, after a respectful +pause.</p> + +<p>"Drowndead," said Mr. Peggotty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + +<p>I was very much surprised that Mr. Peggotty +was not Ham's father, and began to wonder +whether I was mistaken about his relationship to +anybody else there. I was so curious to know +that I made up my mind to have it out with Mr. +Peggotty.</p> + +<p>"Little Em'ly," I said, glancing at her. "She +is your daughter, isn't she, Mr. Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. My brother-in-law, Tom, was <i>her</i> +father."</p> + +<p>I couldn't help it. "——Dead, Mr. Peggotty?" +I hinted, after another respectful silence.</p> + +<p>"Drowndead," said Mr. Peggotty.</p> + +<p>I felt the difficulty of resuming the subject, but +had not got to the bottom of it yet, and must get +to the bottom somehow. So I said:</p> + +<p>"Haven't you <i>any</i> children, Mr. Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>"No, master," he answered, with a short laugh. +"I'm a bacheldore."</p> + +<p>"A bachelor!" I said, astonished. "Why, +who's that, Mr. Peggotty?" Pointing to the +person in the apron who was knitting.</p> + +<p>"That's Missis Gummidge," said Mr. Peggotty.</p> + +<p>"Gummidge, Mr. Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>But at this point Peggotty—I mean my own +Peggotty—made such impressive motions to me +not to ask any more questions, that I could only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +sit and look at all the company, until it was time +to go to bed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gummidge lived with them too, and did +the cooking and cleaning, for she was a poor widow +and had no home of her own. I thought Mr. +Peggotty was very good to take all these people +to live with him, and I was quite right, for Mr. +Peggotty was only a poor man himself and had +to work hard to get a living.</p> + +<p>Almost as soon as morning shone upon the +oyster-shell frame of my mirror I was out of bed, +and out with tittle Em'ly, picking up stones upon +the beach.</p> + +<p>"You're quite a sailor I suppose?" I said to +Em'ly. I don't know that I supposed anything +of the kind, but I felt it proper to say something; +and a shining sail close to us made such a pretty +little image of itself, at the moment, in her bright +eye, that it came into my head to say this.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Em'ly, shaking her head, "I'm +afraid of the sea."</p> + +<p>"Afraid!" I said, with a becoming air of boldness, +and looking very big at the mighty ocean. +"I ain't."</p> + +<p>"Ah! but it's cruel," said Em'ly. "I have seen +it very cruel to some of our men. I have seen +it tear a boat as big as our house all to pieces."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hope it wasn't the boat that—"</p> + +<p>"That father was drowned in?" said Em'ly. +"No. Not that one, I never see that boat."</p> + +<p>"Nor him?" I asked her.</p> + +<p>Little Em'ly shook her head. "Not to remember!"</p> + +<p>Here was something remarkable. I immediately +went into an explanation how I had never +seen my own father; and how my mother and I +had always lived by ourselves in the happiest +state imaginable, and lived so then, and always +meant to live so; and how my father's grave was +in the churchyard near our house, and shaded by a +tree, beneath the boughs of which I had walked +and heard the birds sing many a pleasant morning. +But there were some differences between Em'ly's +orphanhood and mine, it appeared. She had lost +her mother before her father, and where her +father's grave was no one knew, except that it +was somewhere in the depths of the sea.</p> + +<p>"Besides," said Em'ly, as she looked about +for shells and pebbles, "your father was a gentleman +and your mother is a lady; and my father +was a fisherman and my mother was a fisherman's +daughter, and my Uncle Dan is a fisherman."</p> + +<p>"Dan is Mr. Peggotty, is he?" said I.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 321px;"> +<img src="images/illus-146.jpg" width="321" height="500" alt="David Copperfield and Little Em'ly. Page 131" title="" /> +<span class="caption">David Copperfield and Little Em'ly.</span><div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_131">Page 131</a></div> +</div> + +<p>"Uncle—yonder," answered Em'ly, nodding +at the boat-house.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I mean him. He must be very good, +I should think."</p> + +<p>"Good?" said Em'ly. "If I was ever to be a +lady, I'd give him a sky-blue coat with diamond +buttons, nankeen trousers, a red velvet waistcoat, +a cocked hat, a large gold watch, a silver pipe, and +a box of money."</p> + +<p>I said I had no doubt that Mr. Peggotty well +deserved these treasures.</p> + +<p>Little Em'ly had stopped and looked up at the +sky while she named these articles, as if they +were a glorious vision. We went on again picking +up shells and pebbles.</p> + +<p>"You would like to be a lady?" I said.</p> + +<p>Em'ly looked at me, and laughed and nodded +"yes."</p> + +<p>"I should like it very much. We would all be +gentlefolks together, then. Me, and uncle, and +Ham, and Mrs. Gummidge. We wouldn't mind +then, when there come stormy weather. Not for +our own sakes, I mean. We would for the poor +fishermen's, to be sure, and we'd help 'em with +money when they come to any hurt."</p> + +<p>I was quite sorry to leave these kind people and +my dear little companion, but I was glad to think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +I should get back to my own dear mamma. When +I reached home, however, I found a great change. +My mother was married to the dark man I did not +like, whose name was Mr. Murdstone, and he was +a stern, hard man, who had no love for me, and +did not allow my mother to pet and indulge me as +she had done before. Mr. Murdstone's sister +came to live with us, and as she was even more +difficult to please than her brother, and disliked +boys, my life was no longer a happy one. I tried +to be good and obedient, for I knew it made my +mother very unhappy to see me punished and +found fault with. I had always had lessons with +my mother, and as she was patient and gentle, +I had enjoyed learning to read, but now I had a +great many very hard lessons to do, and was so +frightened and shy when Mr. and Miss Murdstone +were in the room, that I did not get on at all well, +and was continually in disgrace.</p> + +<p>Let me remember how it used to be, and bring +one morning back again.</p> + +<p>I come into the second-best parlor after breakfast, +with my books, and an exercise-book and a +slate. My mother is ready for me at her writing-desk, +but not half so ready as Mr. Murdstone in his +easy-chair by the window (though he pretends to +be reading a book), or as Miss Murdstone, sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +near my mother stringing steel beads. The very +sight of these two has such an influence over me +that I begin to feel the words I have been at infinite +pains to get into my head all sliding away, +and going I don't know where. I wonder where +they <i>do</i> go, by-the-by?</p> + +<p>I hand the first book to my mother. Perhaps +it is a grammar, perhaps a history, or geography. +I take a last drowning look at the page as I give +it into her hand, and start off aloud at a racing +pace while I have got it fresh. I trip over a word. +Mr. Murdstone looks up. I trip over another +word. Miss Murdstone looks up. I redden, +tumble over half a dozen words and stop. I +think my mother would show me the book if +she dared, but she does not dare, and she says +softly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Davy, Davy!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Clara," says Mr. Murdstone, "be firm +with the boy. Don't say, 'Oh, Davy, Davy!' +That's childish. He knows his lesson, or he does +not know it."</p> + +<p>"He does <i>not</i> know it," Miss Murdstone interposes +awfully.</p> + +<p>"I am really afraid he does not," says my +mother.</p> + +<p>"Then you see, Clara," returns Miss Murdstone,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +"you should just give him the book back, and +make him know it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly," says my mother; "that is +what I intend to do, my dear Jane. Now, Davy, +try once more, and don't be stupid."</p> + +<p>I obey the first clause of my mother's words +by trying once more, but am not so successful +with the second, for I am very stupid. I tumble +down before I get to the old place, at a point where +I was all right before, and stop to think. But I +can't think about the lesson. I think of the number +of yards of net in Miss Murdstone's cap, or of +the price of Mr. Murdstone's dressing-gown, or +any such ridiculous matter that I have no business +with, and don't want to have anything at all to do +with. Mr. Murdstone makes a movement of +impatience which I have been expecting for a long +time. Miss Murdstone does the same. My +mother glances submissively at them, shuts the +book, and lays it by, to be worked out when my +other tasks are done.</p> + +<p>There is a pile of these tasks very soon, and it +swells like a rolling snowball. The bigger it gets, +the more stupid <i>I</i> get. The case is so hopeless, and +I feel that I am wallowing in such a bog of nonsense, +that I give up all idea of getting out, and abandon +myself to my fate. The despairing way in which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +my mother and I look at each other, as I blunder +on, is truly melancholy. But the greatest effect +in these miserable lessons is when my mother +(thinking nobody is observing her) tries to give +me the cue by the motion of her lips. At that +instant, Miss Murdstone, who has been lying in +wait for nothing else all along says in a deep warning +voice:</p> + +<p>"Clara!"</p> + +<p>My mother starts, colors, and smiles faintly. +Mr. Murdstone comes out of his chair, takes the +book, throws it at me, or boxes my ears with it, +and turns me out of the room by the shoulders.</p> + +<p>My only pleasure was to go up into a little room +at the top of the house where I had found a number +of books that had belonged to my own father, +and I would sit and read Robinson Crusoe, and +many tales of travels and adventures, and I +imagined myself to be sometimes one and sometimes +another hero, and went about for days +with the centre-piece out of an old set of boot-trees, +pretending to be a captain in the British +Royal Navy.</p> + +<p>One morning when I went into the parlor with +my books, I found my mother looking anxious, +Miss Murdstone looking firm, and Mr. Murdstone +binding something round the bottom of a cane—a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +lithe and limber cane, which he left off binding +when I came in, and poised and switched in the +air.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Clara," said Mr. Murdstone, "I +have often been flogged myself."</p> + +<p>"To be sure; of course," said Miss Murdstone.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, my dear Jane," faltered my mother, +meekly. "But—but do you think it did Edward +good?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think it did Edward harm, Clara?" +asked Mr. Murdstone, gravely.</p> + +<p>"That's the point!" said his sister.</p> + +<p>To this my mother returned, "Certainly, my +dear Jane," and said no more.</p> + +<p>I felt afraid that all this had something to do +with myself, and sought Mr. Murdstone's eye as +it lighted on mine.</p> + +<p>"Now, David," he said—and I saw that cast +again, as he said it—"you must be far more careful +to-day than usual." He gave the cane another +poise and another switch; and having +finished his preparation of it, laid it down beside +him, with an expressive look, and took up his +book.</p> + +<p>This was a good freshener to my memory, as a +beginning. I felt the words of my lessons slipping +off, not one by one, or line by line, but by the entire<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +page. I tried to lay hold of them; but they +seemed, if I may so express it, to have put skates +on, and to skim away from me with a smoothness +there was no checking.</p> + +<p>We began badly, and went on worse. I had +come in with an idea of doing better than usual, +thinking that I was very well prepared; but it +turned out to be quite a mistake. Book after +book was added to the heap of failures, Miss Murdstone +being firmly watchful of us all the time. +And when we came at last to a question about +five thousand cheeses (canes he made it that day, +I remember), my mother burst out crying.</p> + +<p>"Clara!" said Miss Murdstone, in her warning +voice.</p> + +<p>"I am not quite well, my dear Jane, I think," +said my mother.</p> + +<p>I saw him wink, solemnly, at his sister, as he +rose and said, taking up the cane:</p> + +<p>"Why, Jane, we can hardly expect Clara to bear, +with perfect firmness, the worry and torment +that David has caused her to-day. Clara is +greatly strengthened and improved; but we can +hardly expect so much from her. David, you and +I will go up-stairs, boy."</p> + +<p>As he took me out at the door, my mother ran +towards us. Miss Murdstone said, "Clara! are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +you a perfect fool?" and interfered. I saw my +mother stop her ears then, and I heard her crying.</p> + +<p>He walked me up to my room slowly and +gravely—I am certain he had a delight in that +formal show of doing justice—and when we got +there, suddenly twisted my head under his arm.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Murdstone! Sir!" I cried to him. +"Don't! Pray don't beat me! I have tried to +learn, sir, but I can't learn while you and Miss +Murdstone are by. I can't indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Can't you, indeed, David?" he said. "We'll +try that."</p> + +<p>He had my head as in a vise, but I twined +round him somehow, and stopped him for a +moment, entreating him not to beat me. It was +only for a moment that I stopped him, for he cut +me heavily an instant afterwards, and in the same +instant I caught the hand with which he held me +in my mouth, between my teeth, and bit it through. +It sets my teeth on edge to think of it.</p> + +<p>He beat me then, as if he would have beaten me +to death. Above all the noise we made, I heard +them running up the stairs, and crying out—I +heard my mother crying out—and Peggotty. +Then he was gone; and the door was locked outside; +and I was lying, fevered, and hot, and torn, +and raging in my puny way, upon the floor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<p>How well I recollect, when I became quiet, +what an unnatural stillness seemed to reign +through the whole house! How well I remember, +when my smart and passion began to cool, how +wicked I began to feel!</p> + +<p>I sat listening for a long while, but there was +not a sound. I crawled up from the floor, and +saw my face in the glass, so swollen, red, and ugly +that it almost frightened me. My stripes were +sore and stiff, and made me cry afresh, when I +moved; but they were nothing to the guilt I felt. +It lay heavier on my breast than if I had been a +most terrible criminal, I dare say, and the longer +I thought of it the greater the offense seemed.</p> + +<p>It had begun to grow dark, and I had shut the +window (I had been lying, for the most part, with +my head upon the sill, by turns crying, dozing, +and looking listlessly out), when the key was +turned, and Miss Murdstone came in with some +bread and meat and milk. These she put down +upon the table without a word, glaring at me the +while and then retired, locking the door after +her.</p> + +<p>I never shall forget the waking next morning; +the being cheerful and fresh for the first moment, +and then the being weighed down by the stale +and dismal oppression of remembrance. Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +Murdstone came again before I was out of bed; +told me, in so many words, that I was free to walk +in the garden for half an hour and no longer; +retired, leaving the door open, that I might avail +myself of that permission.</p> + +<p>I did so, and did so every morning of my imprisonment, +which lasted five days. If I could +have seen my mother alone, I should have gone +down on my knees to her and besought her forgiveness; +but I saw no one, Miss Murdstone excepted, +during the whole time.</p> + +<p>The length of those five days I can convey no +idea of to anyone. They occupy the place of +years in my remembrance.</p> + +<p>On the last night of my restraint, I was awakened +by hearing my own name spoken in a whisper. +I started up in bed, and, putting out my arms in +the dark, said:</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>There was no immediate answer, but presently +I heard my name again, in a tone so very mysterious +and awful, that I think I should have gone +into a fit, if it had not occurred to me that it must +have come through the keyhole.</p> + +<p>I groped my way to the door, and, putting my +own lips to the keyhole, whispered:</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Peggotty, dear?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, my own precious Davy," she replied. +"Be as soft as a mouse, or the cat'll hear us."</p> + +<p>I understood this to mean Miss Murdstone, +and knew that we must be careful and quiet; her +room being close by.</p> + +<p>"How's mamma, dear Peggotty? Is she very +angry with me?"</p> + +<p>I could hear Peggotty crying softly on her side +of the keyhole, as I was doing on mine, before she +answered. "No. Not very."</p> + +<p>"What is going to be done with me, Peggotty, +dear? Do you know?"</p> + +<p>"School. Near London," was Peggotty's answer. +I was obliged to get her to repeat it, for +she spoke it the first time quite down my throat +in consequence of my having forgotten to take +my mouth away from the keyhole and put my +ear there; and, though her words tickled me a +good deal, I didn't hear them.</p> + +<p>"When, Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Is that the reason why Miss Murdstone took +the clothes out of my drawers?" which she had +done, though I have forgotten to mention it.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Peggotty. "Box."</p> + +<p>"Shan't I see mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Peggotty. "Morning."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then Peggotty fitted her mouth close to the +keyhole, and spoke these words through it with +as much feeling and earnestness as a keyhole has +ever been the means of communicating, I will +venture to say, shooting in each broken little +sentence in a convulsive little burst of its own.</p> + +<p>"Davy, dear. If I ain't been azackly as intimate +with you. Lately, as I used to be. It +ain't because I don't love you. Just as well and +more, my pretty poppet. It's because I thought +it better for you. And for someone else besides. +Davy, my darling, are you listening? Can you +hear?"</p> + +<p>"Ye—ye—ye—yes, Peggotty!" I sobbed.</p> + +<p>"My own!" said Peggotty, with infinite compassion. +"What I want to say, is. That you +must never forget me. For I'll never forget you. +And I'll take as much care of your mamma, Davy. +As I ever took of you. And I won't leave her. +The day may come when she'll be glad to lay +her poor head. On her stupid, cross old Peggotty's +arm again. And I'll write to you, my +dear. Though I ain't no scholar. And I'll—I'll—" +Peggotty fell to kissing the keyhole, as she +couldn't kiss me.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear Peggotty!" said I. "Oh, +thank you! Thank you! Will you promise me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +one thing, Peggotty? Will you write and tell +Mr. Peggotty and little Em'ly and Mrs. Gummidge +and Ham that I am not so bad as they +might suppose, and that I sent 'em all my love—especially +to little Em'ly? Will you, if you please, +Peggotty?"</p> + +<p>The kind soul promised, and we both of us +kissed the keyhole with the greatest affection—I +patted it with my hand, I recollect, as if it had +been her honest face—and parted.</p> + +<p>In the morning Miss Murdstone appeared as +usual, and told me I was going to school; which +was not altogether such news to me as she supposed. +She also informed me that when I was +dressed, I was to come down-stairs into the parlor +and have my breakfast. There I found my +mother, very pale and with red eyes; into whose +arms I ran, and begged her pardon from my +suffering soul.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Davy!" she said. "That you could hurt +anyone I love! Try to be better, pray to be +better! I forgive you; but I am so grieved, +Davy, that you should have such bad passions in +your heart."</p> + +<p>Miss Murdstone was good enough to take me out +to the cart, and to say on the way that she hoped +I would repent, before I came to a bad end; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +then I got into the cart, and the lazy horse walked +off with it.</p> + +<p>We might have gone about half a mile, and my +pocket handkerchief was quite wet through, +when the carrier stopped short.</p> + +<p>Looking out to ascertain for what, I saw, to my +amazement, Peggotty burst from a hedge and +climb into the cart. She took me in both her +arms and squeezed me until the pressure on my +nose was extremely painful, though I never +thought of that till afterwards, when I found it +very tender. Not a single word did Peggotty speak, +releasing one of her arms, she put it down in her +pocket to the elbow, and brought out some paper-bags +of cakes, which she crammed into my pockets, +and a purse which she put into my hand, but not +one word did she say. After another and a final +squeeze with both arms, she got down from the +cart and ran away; and my belief is, and has always +been, without a solitary button on her gown. +I picked up one, of several that was rolling about, +and treasured it as a keepsake for a long time.</p> + +<p>The carrier looked at me, as if to inquire if she +were coming back. I shook my head, and said +I thought not. "Then come up!" said the carrier +to the lazy horse, who came up accordingly.</p> + +<p>Having by this time cried as much as I possibly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +could, I began to think it was of no use crying any +more. The carrier seeing me in this resolution, +proposed that my pocket handkerchief should +be spread upon the horse's back to dry. I +thanked him and agreed; and particularly small +it looked under those circumstances.</p> + +<p>I had now time to examine the purse. It was a +stiff leather purse, with a snap, and had three +bright shillings in it, which Peggotty had evidently +polished up with whitening, for my greater delight. +But its precious contents were two half-crowns +folded together in a bit of paper, on which +was written, in my mother's hand, "For Davy. +With my love." I was so overcome by this, +that I asked the carrier to be so good as reach +me my pocket handkerchief again, but he said +he thought I had better do without it; and I +thought I really had; so I wiped my eyes on my +sleeve and stopped myself.</p> + +<p>For good, too; though, in consequence of my +previous feelings, I was still occasionally seized +with a stormy sob. After we had jogged on for +some little time, I asked the carrier if he was going +all the way.</p> + +<p>"All the way where?" inquired the carrier.</p> + +<p>"There," I said.</p> + +<p>"Where's there?" inquired the carrier.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Near London," I said.</p> + +<p>"Why, that horse," said the carrier, jerking the +rein to point him out, "would be deader than pork +afore he got over half the ground."</p> + +<p>"Are you only going to Yarmouth then?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"That's about it," said the carrier. "And there +I shall take you to the stage-cutch, and the stage-cutch +that'll take you to—wherever it is."</p> + +<p>I shared my cakes with the carrier, who asked +if Peggotty made them, and told him yes, she did +all our cooking. The carrier looked thoughtful, +and then asked if I would send a message to Peggotty +from him. I agreed, and the message was +"Barkis is willing." While I was waiting for the +coach at Yarmouth, I wrote to Peggotty:</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Peggotty:</span>—I have come here safe. +Barkis is willing. My love to mamma. Yours +affectionately.</p> + +<p>"<i>P.S.</i>—He says he particularly wanted you to +know <i>Barkis is willing</i>."</p> + +<p>At Yarmouth I found dinner was ordered for +me, and felt very shy at having a table all to myself, +and very much alarmed when the waiter told +me he had seen a gentleman fall down dead after +drinking some of their beer. I said I would have +some water, and was quite grateful to the waiter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +for drinking the ale that had been ordered for me, +for fear the people of the hotel should be offended. +He also helped me to eat my dinner, and accepted +one of my bright shillings.</p> + +<p>After a long, tiring journey by the coach, for +there were no trains in those days, I arrived in +London and was taken to the school at Blackheath, +by one of the masters, Mr. Mell.</p> + +<p>I gazed upon the schoolroom into which he took +me, as the most forlorn and desolate place I had +ever seen. I see it now. A long room, with three +long rows of desks, and six of long seats, bristling +all round with pegs for hats and slates. Scraps +of old copy-books and exercises litter the dirty +floor.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mell having left me for a few moments, I +went softly to the upper end of the room, observing +all this as I crept along. Suddenly I came +upon a pasteboard placard, beautifully written +which was lying on the desk, and bore these +words—"<i>Take care of him.</i> <i>He bites.</i>"</p> + +<p>I got upon the desk immediately, afraid of at +least a great dog underneath. But, though I +looked all round with anxious eyes, I could see +nothing of him. I was still engaged in peering +about when Mr. Mell came back, and asked me +what I did up there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," says I, "if you please, +I'm looking for the dog."</p> + +<p>"Dog?" says he. "What dog?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a dog, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't what a dog?"</p> + +<p>"That's to be taken care of, sir; that bites."</p> + +<p>"No, Copperfield," says he, gravely, "that's not +a dog. That's a boy. My instructions are, +Copperfield, to put this placard on your back. +I am sorry to make such a beginning with you, +but I must do it."</p> + +<p>With that, he took me down, and tied the placard, +which was neatly constructed for the purpose, +on my shoulders like a knapsack; and +wherever I went, afterwards, I had the consolation +of carrying it.</p> + +<p>What I suffered from that placard, nobody +can imagine. Whether it was possible for people +to see me or not, I always fancied that somebody +was reading it. It was no relief to turn round and +find nobody; for wherever my back was, there I +imagined somebody always to be.</p> + +<p>There was an old door in this playground, on +which the boys had a custom of carving their +names. It was completely covered with such +inscriptions. In my dread of the end of the vacation +and their coming back, I could not read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +one boy's name, without inquiring in what tone +and with what emphasis <i>he</i> would read, "Take +care of him. He bites." There was one boy—a +certain J. Steerforth—who cut his name very +deep and very often, who, I conceived, would read +it in a rather strong voice, and afterwards pull my +hair. There was another boy, one Tommy Traddles, +who I dreaded would make game of it, and +pretend to be dreadfully frightened of me. There +was a third, George Demple, who I fancied would +sing it. I have looked, a little shrinking creature, +at that door, until the owners of all the names—there +were five-and-forty of them in the school +then, Mr. Mell said—seemed to cry out, each in +his own way, "Take care of him. He bites!"</p> + +<p>Tommy Traddles was the first boy who returned. +He introduced himself by informing me +that I should find his name on the right-hand +corner of the gate, over the top bolt; upon that +I said, "Traddles?" to which he replied, "The +same," and then he asked me for a full account of +myself and family.</p> + +<p>It was fortunate for me that Traddles came +back first. He enjoyed my placard so much that +he saved me from the embarrassment of either +telling about it or trying to hide it by presenting +me to every other boy who came back, great or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +small, immediately on his arrival, in this form +of introduction, "Look here! Here's a game!" +Happily, too, the greater part of the boys came +back low-spirited, and were not so boisterous at +my expense as I had expected. Some of them +certainly could not resist the temptation of pretending +that I was a dog, and patting and smoothing +me lest I should bite, and saying, "Lie down, +sir!" and calling me Towzer. This was naturally +confusing, among so many strangers, and cost some +tears, but on the whole it was much better than +I had anticipated.</p> + +<p>I was not considered as being formally received +into the school, however, until J. Steerforth arrived. +Before this boy, who was reputed to be +a great scholar, and was very good-looking, and at +least half-a-dozen years older than I, I was carried +as before a judge. He inquired, under a shed in +the playground, into the particulars of my punishment, +and was pleased to express his opinion that +it was a "jolly shame;" for which I became bound +to him ever afterwards.</p> + +<p>"What money have you got, Copperfield?" +he said, walking aside with me when he had disposed +of my affair in these terms.</p> + +<p>I told him seven shillings.</p> + +<p>"You had better give it to me to take care of,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +he said. "At least, you can, if you like. You +needn't if you don't like."</p> + +<p>I hastened to comply with his friendly suggestion, +and, opening Peggotty's purse, turned +it upside down into his hand.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to spend anything now?" he +asked me.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," I replied.</p> + +<p>"You can, if you like, you know," said Steerforth. +"Say the word."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, sir," I repeated.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'd like to spend a couple of shillings +or so in a bottle of currant wine by-and-by, +up in the bedroom?" said Steerforth. "You +belong to my bedroom, I find."</p> + +<p>It certainly had not occurred to me before, but +I said, Yes, I should like that.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said Steerforth. "You'll be glad +to spend another shilling or so in almond cakes, +I dare say?"</p> + +<p>I said, "Yes, I should like that, too."</p> + +<p>"And another shilling or so in biscuits, and another +in fruit, eh?" said Steerforth. "I say, +young Copperfield, you're going it!"</p> + +<p>I smiled because he smiled, but I was a little +troubled in my mind, too.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Steerforth. "We must make it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +stretch as far as we can; that's all. I'll do the +best in my power for you. I can go out when I +like, and I'll smuggle the prog in." With these +words he put the money in his pocket, and kindly +told me not to make myself uneasy; he would take +care it should be all right.</p> + +<p>He was as good as his word, if that were all +right which I had a secret misgiving was nearly +all wrong—for I feared it was a waste of my +mother's two half-crowns—though I had preserved +the piece of paper they were wrapped in; +which was a precious saving. When we went up-stairs +to bed, he produced the whole seven shillings +worth, and laid it out on my bed in the moonlight, +saying:</p> + +<p>"There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal +spread you've got!"</p> + +<p>I couldn't think of doing the honors of the feast +at my time of life, while he was by; my hand +shook at the very thought of it. I begged him +to do me the favor of taking charge of the treat; +and my request being seconded by the other boys +who were in that room, he agreed to it, and sat +upon my pillow, handing round the food—with +perfect fairness, I must say—and giving out the +currant wine in a little glass without a foot, +which was his own property. As to me, I sat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +on his left hand, and the rest were grouped about +us, on the nearest beds and on the floor.</p> + +<p>How well I recollect our sitting there, talking +in whispers; or their talking, and my respectfully +listening, I ought rather to say; the moonlight +falling a little way into the room, through the +window, painting a pale window on the floor, and +the greater part of us in shadow, except when +Steerforth scratched a match, when he wanted to +look for anything on the board, and shed a blue +glare over us that was gone directly! A certain +mysterious feeling, consequent on the darkness, +the secrecy of the revel, and the whisper in which +everything was said, steals over me again, and I +listen to all they tell me, with a vague feeling of +solemnity and awe, which makes me glad they are +all so near, and frightens me (though I feign to +laugh) when Traddles pretends to see a ghost in +the corner.</p> + +<p>I heard all kinds of things about the school +and all belonging to it. I heard that Mr. Creakle +was the sternest and most severe of masters; +that he laid about him, right and left, every day +of his life, charging in among the boys like a +trooper, and slashing away, unmercifully.</p> + +<p>I heard that the man with the wooden leg, +whose name was Tungay, was an obstinate fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +who had formerly been in the hop business, but +had come into the line with Mr. Creakle, in consequence, +as was supposed among the boys, of his +having broken his leg in Mr. Creakle's service, and +having done a deal of dishonest work for him, and +knowing his secrets.</p> + +<p>But the greatest wonder that I heard of Mr. +Creakle was, there being one boy in the school on +whom he never ventured to lay a hand, and that +that boy being J. Steerforth. Steerforth himself +confirmed this when it was stated, and said that he +should like to begin to see him do it. On being +asked by a mild boy (not me) how he would proceed +if he did begin to see him do it, he +scratched a match on purpose to shed a glare over +his reply, and said he would commence with knocking +him down with a blow on the forehead from the +seven-and-six-penny ink-bottle that was always +on the mantelpiece. We sat in the dark for some +time, breathless.</p> + +<p>I heard that Miss Creakle was regarded by the +school in general as being in love with Steerforth; +and I am sure, as I sat in the dark, thinking of +his nice voice, and his fine face, and his easy +manner, and his curling hair, I thought it very +likely. I heard that Mr. Mell was not a bad sort +of fellow, but hadn't a sixpence to bless himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +with; and that there was no doubt that old Mrs. +Mell, his mother, was as poor as Job.</p> + +<p>One day, Traddles (the most unfortunate boy +in the world) breaks a window accidentally with a +ball. I shudder at this moment with the tremendous +sensation of seeing it done, and feeling +that the ball has bounded on to Mr. Creakle's +sacred head.</p> + +<p>Poor Traddles! In a tight sky-blue suit that +made his arms and legs like German sausages, or +roly-poly puddings, he was the merriest and most +miserable of all the boys. He was always being +caned—I think he was caned every day that half-year, +except one holiday Monday, when he was +only rulered on both hands—and was always +going to write to his uncle about it, and never did. +After laying his head on the desk for a little while, +he would cheer up somehow, begin to laugh again, +and draw skeletons all over his slate before his +eyes were dry. I used at first to wonder what +comfort Traddles found in drawing skeletons. +But I believe he only did it because they were +easy, and didn't want any features.</p> + +<p>He was very honorable, Traddles was; and held +it as a solemn duty in the boys to stand by one +another. He suffered for this on several occasions; +and particularly once, when Steerforth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +laughed in church, and the beadle thought it was +Traddles, and took him out. I see him now, +going away under guard, despised by the congregation. +He never said who was the real +offender, though he smarted for it next day, and +was imprisoned so many hours that he came forth +with a whole churchyard full of skeletons swarming +all over his Latin Dictionary. But he had his +reward. Steerforth said there was nothing of the +sneak in Traddles, and we all felt that to be the +highest praise. For my part, I could have gone +through a great deal (though I was much less +brave than Traddles, and nothing like so old) to +have won such a reward, as praise from J. Steerforth.</p> + +<p>To see Steerforth walk to church before us, +arm-in-arm with Miss Creakle, was one of the +great sights of my life. I didn't think Miss +Creakle equal to little Em'ly in point of beauty, +and I didn't love her (I didn't dare); but I thought +her a young lady of extraordinary attractions, +and in point of gentility not to be surpassed. +When Steerforth, in white trousers, carried her +parasol for her, I felt proud to know him; and +believed that she could not choose but adore him +with all her heart. Mr. Sharp and Mr. Mell <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'were were'">were</ins> +both great personages in my eyes; but Steerforth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +was to them what the sun was to two stars. +An accidental matter strengthened the friendship +between Steerforth and me, in a manner that +inspired me with great pride and satisfaction, +though it sometimes led to inconvenience. It +happened on one occasion, when he was doing me +the honor of talking to me in the playground +that I remarked that something or somebody—I +forget what now—was like something or somebody +in the story of Peregrine Pickle. He said nothing +at the time; but when I was going to bed at night, +asked me if I had got that book.</p> + +<p>I told him no, and explained how it was that I +had read it, and all those other books of which I +had made mention.</p> + +<p>"And do you recollect them?" Steerforth said.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," I replied; I had a good memory, and +I believed I recollected them very well.</p> + +<p>"Then I tell you what, young Copperfield," said +Steerforth, "you shall tell 'em to me. I can't get +to sleep very early at night, and I generally wake +rather early in the morning. We'll go over 'em +one after another. We'll make some regular +Arabian Nights of it."</p> + +<p>I felt extremely flattered by this arrangement, +and we commenced carrying out the plan that very +evening.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>Steerforth showed his thought for me in one +particular instance, in an unflinching manner that +was a little troublesome, to poor Traddles and the +rest. Peggotty's promised letter—what a comfortable +letter it was!—arrived before "the half" +of the school-term was many weeks old; and with +it a cake in a perfect nest of oranges, and two +bottles of cowslip wine. This treasure, as in duty +bound, I laid at the feet of Steerforth, and begged +him to divide it among the boys.</p> + +<p>"Now, I'll tell you what, young Copperfield," +said he, "the wine shall be kept to wet your whistle +when you are story-telling."</p> + +<p>I blushed at the idea, and begged him, in my +modesty, not to think of it. But he said he had +observed I was sometimes hoarse—a little roopy +was his exact expression—and it should be, every +drop, set apart to the purpose he had mentioned. +Accordingly, it was locked up in his box, and +drawn off by himself in a phial, and administered +to me through a piece of quill in the cork, when I +was supposed to be in want of something to restore +my voice. Sometimes, to make it more +powerful, he was so kind as to squeeze orange +juice into it, or to stir it up with ginger, or dissolve +a peppermint drop in it.</p> + +<p>We seem to me to have been months over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +Peregrine, and months more over the other stories. +The school never flagged for want of a story, I am +certain; and the wine lasted out almost as well +as the matter. Poor Traddles—I never think of +that boy but with a strange disposition to laugh, +and with tears in my eyes—was a sort of echo +to the story; and pretended to be overcome with +laughing at the funny parts, and to be overcome +with fear when there was any passage of an alarming +character in the story. This rather put me out +very often. It was a great jest of his, I recollect, +to pretend that he couldn't keep his teeth from +chattering, whenever mention was made of an +Alguazil in connection with the adventures of +Gil Blas; and I remember when Gil Blas met the +captain of the robbers in Madrid, this unlucky +joker acted such a shudder of terror that he was +overheard by Mr. Creakle, who was prowling about +the passage, and handsomely flogged for disorderly +conduct in the bedroom.</p> + +<p>One day I had a visit from Mr. Peggotty and +Ham, who had brought two enormous lobsters, +a huge crab, and a large canvas bag of shrimps, +as they "remembered I was partial to a relish +with my meals."</p> + +<p>I was proud to introduce my friend Steerforth +to these kind, simple friends, and told them how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +good Steerforth was to me, and how he helped +me with my work and took care of me, and Steerforth +delighted the fishermen with his friendly, +pleasant manners.</p> + +<p>The "relish" was greatly enjoyed by the boys +at supper that night. Only poor Traddles became +very ill from eating crab so late.</p> + +<p>At last the holidays came, and I went home. +The carrier, Barkis, met me at Yarmouth, and +was rather gruff, which I soon found out was because +he had not had any answer to his message. +I promised to ask Peggotty for one.</p> + +<p>Ah, what a strange feeling it was to be going +home when it was not home, and to find that every +object I looked at reminded me of the happy old +home, which was like a dream I could never dream +again!</p> + +<p>God knows how like a child the memory may +have been that was awakened within me by the +sound of my mother's voice in the old parlor, when +I set foot in the hall.</p> + +<p>I believed, from the solitary and thoughtful +way in which my mother murmured her song, +that she was alone. And I went softly into the +room. She was sitting by the fire, nursing an +infant, whose tiny hand she held against her neck. +Her eyes were looking down upon its face, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +she sat singing to it. I was so far right, that she +had no other companion.</p> + +<p>I spoke to her, and she started, and cried out. +But seeing me, she called me her dear Davy, her +own boy; and, coming half across the room to +meet me, kneeled down upon the ground and +kissed me, and laid my head down on her bosom +near the little creature that was nestling there, +and put its hand up to my lips.</p> + +<p>I wish I had died. I wish I had died then, with +that feeling in my heart! I should have been more +fit for heaven than I ever have been since.</p> + +<p>"He is your brother," said my mother, fondling +me. "Davy, my pretty boy: my poor child!" +Then she kissed me more and more, and clasped +me round the neck. This she was doing when +Peggotty came running in, and bounced down +on the ground beside us and went mad about us +both for a quarter of an hour.</p> + +<p>We had a very happy afternoon the day I +came. Mr. and Miss Murdstone were out, and I +sat with my mother and Peggotty, and told them +all about my school and Steerforth, and took the +little baby in my arms and nursed it lovingly. +But when the Murdstones came back I was more +unhappy than ever.</p> + +<p>I felt uncomfortable about going down to breakfast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +in The morning, as I had never set eyes on Mr. +Murdstone since the day when I committed my +memorable offense. However, as it must be done, +I went down, after two or three false starts halfway, +and as many runs back on tiptoe to my own +room, and presented myself in the parlor.</p> + +<p>He was standing before the fire with his back +to it, while Miss Murdstone made the tea. He +looked at me steadily as I entered, but made no +sign of recognition whatever.</p> + +<p>I went up to him, after a moment of confusion, +and said, "I beg your pardon, sir. I am very sorry +for what I did, and I hope you will forgive me."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear you are sorry, David," he +replied.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, ma'am?" I said to Miss +Murdstone.</p> + +<p>"Ah, dear me!" sighed Miss Murdstone, giving +me the tea-caddy scoop instead of her finger. +"How long are the holidays?"</p> + +<p>"A month, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Counting from when?"</p> + +<p>"From to-day, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Miss Murdstone. "Then here's <i>one</i> +day off."</p> + +<p>She kept a calendar of the holidays in this way, +and every morning checked a day off in exactly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +the same manner. She did it gloomily until she +came to ten, but when she got into two figures she +became more hopeful, and, as the time advanced, +even jocular.</p> + +<p>Thus the holidays lagged away, until the morning +came when Miss Murdstone said: "Here's the +last day off!" and gave me the closing cup of tea +of the vacation.</p> + +<p>I was not sorry to go. Again Mr. Barkis appeared +at the gate, and again Miss Murdstone in +her warning voice said: "Clara!" when my mother +bent over me, to bid me farewell.</p> + +<p>I kissed her and my baby brother; it is not so +much the embrace she gave me that lives in my +mind, though it was as fervent as could be, as +what followed the embrace.</p> + +<p>I was in the carrier's cart when I heard her +calling to me. I looked out, and she stood at the +garden gate alone, holding her baby up in her +arms for me to see. It was cold, still weather; +and not a hair of her head, or fold of her dress, was +stirred, as she looked intently at me, holding up +her child.</p> + +<p>So I lost her. So I saw her afterwards in my +sleep at school—a silent presence near my bed—looking +at me with the same intent face—holding +up her baby in her arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>About two months after I had been back at +school I was sent for one day to go into the parlor. +I hurried in joyfully, for it was my birthday, and +I thought it might be a box from Peggotty—but, +alas! no; it was very sad news Mrs. Creakle had +to give me—my dear mamma had died! Mrs. +Creakle was very kind and gentle to me, and the +boys, especially Traddles, were very sorry for me.</p> + +<p>I went home the next day, and heard that the +dear baby had died too. Peggotty received me +with great tenderness, and told me about my +mother's illness and how she had sent a loving +message to me.</p> + +<p>"Tell my dearest boy that his mother, as she +lay here, blessed him not once, but a thousand +times," and she had prayed to God to protect and +keep her fatherless boy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Murdstone did not take any notice of me, +nor had Miss Murdstone a word of kindness for +me. Peggotty was to leave in a month, and, to +my great joy, I was allowed to go with her on a +visit to Mr. Peggotty. On our way I found out +that the mysterious message I had given to Peggotty +meant that Barkis wanted to marry her, +and Peggotty had consented. Everyone in Mr. +Peggotty's cottage was pleased to see me, and did +their best to comfort me. Little Em'ly was at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +school when I arrived, and I went out to meet her. +I knew the way by which she would come, and +presently found myself strolling along the path to +meet her.</p> + +<p>A figure appeared in the distance before long, +and I soon knew it to be Em'ly, who was a little +creature still in stature, though she was grown. +But when she drew nearer, and I saw her blue eyes +looking bluer, and her dimpled face looking +brighter, and her own self prettier and gayer, a +curious feeling came over me that made me pretend +not to know her, and pass by as if I were +looking at something a long way off. I have done +such a thing since in later life, or I am mistaken.</p> + +<p>Little Em'ly didn't care a bit. She saw me +well enough; but instead of turning round and +calling after me, ran away laughing. This obliged +me to run after her, and she ran so fast that we +were very near the cottage before I caught her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you, is it?" said little Em'ly.</p> + +<p>"Why, you knew who it was, Em'ly," said I.</p> + +<p>"And didn't <i>you</i> know who it was?" said Em'ly. +I was going to kiss her, but she covered her cherry +lips with her hands, and said she wasn't a baby +now, and ran away, laughing more than ever, into +the house.</p> + +<p>She seemed to delight in teasing me, which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +a change in her I wondered at very much. The +tea-table was ready, and our little locker was put +out in its old place, but instead of coming to sit +by me, she went and bestowed her company upon +that grumbling Mrs. Gummidge; and on Mr. +Peggotty's inquiring why, rumpled her hair all +over her face to hide it, and would do nothing +but laugh.</p> + +<p>"A little puss it is!" said Mr. Peggotty, patting +her with his great hand.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Peggotty, running his fingers through +her bright curls, "here's another orphan, you see, +sir, and here," giving Ham a backhanded knock +in the chest, "is another of 'em, though he don't +look much like it."</p> + +<p>"If I had <i>you</i> for a guardian, Mr. Peggotty," +said I, "I don't think I should <i>feel</i> much like it."</p> + +<p>Em'ly was confused by our all observing her, +and hung down her head, and her face was covered +with blushes. Glancing up presently through +her stray curls, and seeing that we were all looking +at her still (I am sure I, for one, could have looked +at her for hours), she ran away, and kept away +till it was nearly bedtime.</p> + +<p>I lay down in the old little bed in the stern of +the boat, and the wind came moaning on across +the flat as it had done before. But I could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +help fancying, now that it moaned, of those who +were gone; and instead of thinking that the sea +might rise in the night and float the boat away, +I thought of the sea that had risen, since I last +heard those sounds, and drowned my happy +home, I recollect, as the wind and water began +to sound fainter in my ears, putting a short clause +into my prayers, petitioning that I might grow +up to marry little Em'ly, and so dropping lovingly +asleep.</p> + +<p>During this visit Peggotty was married to Mr. +Barkis, and had a nice little house of her own, and +I spent the night before I was to return home in a +little room in the roof.</p> + +<p>"Young or old, Davy dear, so long as I have +this house over my head," said Peggotty, "you +shall find it as if I expected you here directly +every minute. I shall keep it as I used to keep +your old little room, my darling, and if you was +to go to China, you might think of its being kept +just the same all the time you were away."</p> + +<p>I felt how good and true a friend she was, and +thanked her as well as I could, for they had +brought me to the gate of my home, and Peggotty +had me clasped in her arms.</p> + +<p>I was poor and lonely at home, with no one near +to speak a loving word, or a face to look on with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +love or liking, only the two persons who had +broken my mother's heart. How utterly wretched +and forlorn I felt! I found I was not to go back +to school any more, and wandered about sad and +solitary, neglected and uncared for. Peggotty's +weekly visits were my only comfort. I longed to +go to school, however hard an one, to be taught +something anyhow, anywhere—but no one took +any pains with me, and I had no friends near who +could help me.</p> + +<p>At last one day, after some weary months had +passed, Mr. Murdstone told me I was to go to +London and earn my own living. There was a +place for me at Murdstone & Grinby's, a firm in +the wine trade. My lodging and clothes would be +provided for me by my step-father, and I would +earn enough for my food and pocket money. +The next day, I was sent up to London with the +manager, dressed in a shabby little white hat with +black crape round it for my mother, a black +jacket, and hard, stiff corduroy trousers, a little +fellow of ten years old, to fight my own battles +with the world!</p> + +<p>My place, I found, was one of the lowest in the +firm of Murdstone & Grinby, with boys of no education +and in quite an inferior station to myself—my +duties were to wash the bottles, stick on labels,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +and so on. I was utterly miserable at being +degraded in this way, when I thought of my +former companions, Steerforth and Traddles, and +my hopes of becoming a learned and famous man, +and shed bitter tears, as I feared I would forget +all I had learnt at school. My lodging, one bare +little room, was in the house of some people +named Micawber, shiftless, careless, good-natured +people, who were always in debt and difficulties. +I felt great pity for their misfortunes and did what +I could to help poor Mrs. Micawber to sell her +books and other little things she could spare, to +buy food for herself, her husband, and their four +children. I was too young and childish to know +how to provide properly for myself, and often +found I was obliged to live on bread and slices of +cold pudding at the end of the week. If I had +not been a very innocent-minded, good little boy, +I might easily have fallen into bad ways at this +time. But God took care of me and kept me from +harm. I would not even tell Peggotty how miserable +I was, for fear of distressing her.</p> + +<p>The troubles of the Micawbers increased more +and more, until at last they were obliged to leave +London. I was very sad at this, for I had been +with them so long that I felt they were my friends, +and the prospect of being once more utterly alone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +and having to find a lodging with strangers, made +me so unhappy that I determined to endure this +sort of life no longer. The last Sunday the Micawbers +were in town I dined with them. I had +bought a spotted horse for their little boy and a +doll for the little girl, and had saved up a shilling +for the poor servant-girl. After I had seen them +off the next morning by the coach, I wrote to +Peggotty to ask her if she knew where my aunt, +Miss Betsy Trotwood, lived, and to borrow half-a-guinea; +for I had resolved to run away from +Murdstone & Grinby's, and go to this aunt and tell +her my story. I remembered my mother telling +me of her visit when I was a baby, and that she +fancied Miss Betsy had stroked her hair gently, +and this gave me courage to appeal to her. Peggotty +wrote, enclosing the half-guinea, and saying +she only knew Miss Trotwood lived near Dover, +but whether in that place itself, or at Folkestone, +Sandgate, or Hythe, she could not tell. Hearing +that all these places were close together, I made +up my mind to start. As I had received my +week's wages in advance, I waited till the following +Saturday, thinking it would not be honest to +go before. I went out to look for someone to +carry my box to the coach office, and unfortunately +hired a wicked young man who not only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +ran off with the box, but robbed me of my half-guinea, +leaving me in dire distress. In despair, +I started off to walk to Dover, and was forced to +sell my waistcoat to buy some bread. The first +night I found my way to my old school at Blackheath, +and slept on a haystack close by, feeling +some comfort in the thought of the boys being +near. I knew Steerforth had left, or I would have +tried to see him.</p> + +<p>On I trudged the next day and sold my jacket +at Chatham to a dreadful old man, who kept me +waiting all day for the money, which was only +one shilling and fourpence. I was afraid to buy +anything but bread or to spend any money on a +bed or a shelter for the night, and was terribly +frightened by some rough tramps, who threw +stones at me when I did not answer to their calls. +After six days, I arrived at Dover, ragged, dusty, +and half-dead with hunger and fatigue. But +here, at first, I could get no tidings of my aunt, +and, in despair, was going to try some of the other +places Peggotty had mentioned, when the driver +of a fly dropped his horsecloth, and as I was +handing it up to him, I saw something kind in the +man's face that encouraged me to ask once more +if he knew where Miss Trotwood lived.</p> + +<p>The man directed me towards some houses on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +the heights, and thither I toiled. Going into a +little shop, I by chance met with Miss Trotwood's +maid, who showed me the house, and went in +leaving me standing at the gate, a forlorn little +creature, without a jacket or waistcoat, my white +hat crushed out of shape, my shoes worn out, my +shirt and trousers torn and stained, my pretty +curly hair tangled, my face and hands sunburnt +and covered with dust. Lifting my eyes to one of +the windows above, I saw a pleasant-faced gentleman +with gray hair, who nodded at me several +times, then shook his head and went away. I +was just turning away to think what I should do, +when a tall, erect elderly lady, with a gardening +apron on and a knife in her hand, came out of the +house, and began to dig up a root in the garden.</p> + +<p>"Go away," she said. "Go away. No boys +here."</p> + +<p>But I felt desperate. Going in softly, I stood +beside her, and touched her with my finger, and +said timidly, "If you please, ma'am—" and when +she looked up, I went on—</p> + +<p>"Please, aunt, I am your nephew."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord!" she exclaimed in astonishment, +and sat flat down on the path, staring at me, +while I went on—</p> + +<p>"I am David Copperfield of Blunderstone, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +Suffolk, where you came the night I was born, +and saw my dear mamma. I have been very +unhappy since she died. I have been neglected +and taught nothing, and thrown upon myself, +and put to work not fit for me. It made me run +away to you. I was robbed at first starting out +and have walked all the way, and have never slept +in a bed since I began the journey." Here I +broke into a passion of crying, and my aunt +jumped up and took me into the house, where she +opened a cupboard and took out some bottles, +pouring some of the contents of each into my +mouth, not noticing in her agitation what they +were, for I fancied I tasted anise-seed water, +anchovy sauce, and salad dressing! Then she +put me on the sofa and sent the servant to ask +"Mr. Dick" to come down. The gentleman whom +I had seen at the window came in and was told +by Miss Trotwood who the ragged little object on +the sofa was, and she finished by saying—</p> + +<p>"Now here you see young David Copperfield, +and the question is what shall I do with him?"</p> + +<p>"Do with him?" answered Mr. Dick. Then, +after some consideration, and looking at me, he +said, "Well, if I was you, I should wash him!"</p> + +<p>Miss Trotwood was quite pleased at this, and +a warm bath was got ready at once, after which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +I was dressed in a shirt and trousers belonging +to Mr. Dick (for Janet had burnt my rags), rolled +up in several shawls, and put on the sofa till +dinner-time, where I slept, and woke with the +impression that my aunt had come and put my +hair off my face, and murmured, "Pretty fellow, +poor fellow."</p> + +<p>After dinner I had to tell my story all over again +to my aunt and Mr. Dick. Miss Trotwood again +asked Mr. Dick's advice, and was delighted when +that gentleman suggested I should be put to bed. +I knelt down to say my prayers that night in a +pleasant room facing the sea, and as I lay in the +clean, snow-white bed, I felt so grateful and +comforted that I prayed earnestly I might never +be homeless again, and might never forget the +homeless.</p> + +<p>The next morning my aunt told me she had +written to Mr. Murdstone. I was alarmed to +think that my step-father knew where I was, and +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know what I shall do if I have to +go back to Mr. Murdstone!"</p> + +<p>But my aunt said nothing of her intentions, and +I was uncertain what was to become of me. I +hoped she might befriend me.</p> + +<p>At last Mr. and Miss Murdstone arrived. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +Miss Betsy's great indignation, Miss Murdstone +rode a donkey across the green in front of the +house, and stopped at the gate. Nothing made +Miss Trotwood so angry as to see donkeys on that +green, and I had already seen several battles +between my aunt or Janet and the donkey boys.</p> + +<p>After driving away the donkey and the boy +who had dared to bring it there, Miss Trotwood +received her visitors. She kept me near her, +fenced in with a chair.</p> + +<p>Mr. Murdstone told Miss Betsy that I was a +very bad, stubborn, violent-tempered boy, whom +he had tried to improve, but could not succeed; +that he had put me in a respectable business from +which I had run away. If Miss Trotwood chose +to protect and encourage me now, she must do it +always, for he had come to fetch me away from +there and then, and if I was ready to come, and +Miss Trotwood did not wish to give me up to be +dealt with exactly as Mr. Murdstone liked, he +would cast me off for always, and have no more +to do with me.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready to go, David?" asked my aunt.</p> + +<p>But I answered no, and begged and prayed +her for my father's sake to befriend and protect +me, for neither Mr. nor Miss Murdstone had ever +liked me or been kind to me and had made my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +mamma, who always loved me dearly, very unhappy +about me, and I had been very miserable.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dick," said Miss Trotwood, "what shall +I do with this child?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dick considered. "Have him measured +for a suit of clothes directly."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dick," said Miss Trotwood, "your common sense +is invaluable."</p> + +<p>Then she pulled me towards her, and said to +Mr. Murdstone, "You can go when you like. I'll +take my chance with the boy. If he's all you say +he is I can at least do as much for him as you have +done. But I don't believe a word of it."</p> + +<p>Then she told Mr. Murdstone what she thought +of the way he had treated me and my mother, +which did not make that gentleman feel very +comfortable, and finished by turning to Miss +Murdstone and saying—</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, too, ma'am, and if I ever +see you ride a donkey across my green again, as +sure as you have a head upon your shoulders, +I'll knock your bonnet off and tread upon it!"</p> + +<p>This startled Miss Murdstone so much that she +went off quite quietly with her brother, while I, +overjoyed, threw my arms round my aunt's neck, +and kissed and thanked her with great heartiness.</p> + +<p>Some clothes were bought for me that same day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +and marked "Trotwood Copperfield," for my +aunt wished to call me by her name.</p> + +<p>Now I felt my troubles were over, and I began +quite a new life, well cared for and kindly treated. +I was sent to a very nice school in Canterbury, +where my aunt left me with these words, which I +never forgot:</p> + +<p>"Trot, be a credit to yourself, to me, and Mr. +Dick, and heaven be with you. Never be mean +in anything, never be false, never be cruel. +Avoid these three vices, Trot, and I shall always +be hopeful of you?"</p> + +<p>I did my best to show my gratitude to my dear +aunt by studying hard, and trying to be all she +could wish.</p> + +<p>When you are older you can read how Little +David Copperfield grew up to be a good, clever +man, and met again all his old friends, and made +many new ones.</p> + +<p>Also, what became of Steerforth, Traddles, the +Peggottys, little Em'ly, and the Micawbers.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> +<h2>VIII.</h2> + +<h3>JENNY WREN.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>WALKING into the city one holiday, a +great many years ago, a gentleman ran +up the steps of a tall house in the neighborhood +of St. Mary Axe. The lower windows +were those of a counting-house but the blinds, like +those of the entire front of the house, were drawn +down.</div> + +<p>The gentleman knocked and rang several times +before any one came, but at last an old man +opened the door. "What were you up to that +you did not hear me?" said Mr. Fledgeby +irritably.</p> + +<p>"I was taking the air at the top of the house, +sir," said the old man meekly, "it being a holiday. +What might you please to want, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Humph! Holiday indeed," grumbled his +master, who was a toy merchant amongst other +things. He then seated himself in the counting-house +and gave the old man—a Jew and Riah by +name—directions about the dressing of some +dolls about which he had come to speak, and, as +he rose to go, exclaimed—</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 319px;"> +<img src="images/illus-196.jpg" width="319" height="500" alt=""Seated on the Crystal Carpet Were Two Girls." Page 179" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Seated on the Crystal Carpet Were Two Girls."</span> <div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_179">Page 179</a></div> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By-the-by, how <i>do</i> you take the air? Do you +stick your head out of a chimney-pot?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I have made a little garden on the +leads."</p> + +<p>"Let's look it at," said Mr. Fledgeby.</p> + +<p>"Sir, I have company there," returned Riah +hesitating, "but will you please come up and see +them?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Fledgeby nodded, and, passing his master +with a bow, the old man led the way up flight +after flight of stairs, till they arrived at the house-top. +Seated on a carpet, and leaning against a +chimney-stack, were two girls bending over books. +Some humble creepers were trained round the +chimney-pots, and evergreens were placed round +the roof, and a few more books, a basket of gaily +colored scraps, and bits of tinsel, and another of +common print stuff lay near. One of the girls +rose on seeing that Riah had brought a visitor, +but the other remarked, "I'm the person of the +house down-stairs, but I can't get up, whoever +you are, because my back is bad and my legs are +queer."</p> + +<p>"This is my master," said Riah, speaking to the +two girls, "and this," he added, turning to Mr. +Fledgeby, "is Miss Jenny Wren; she lives in this +house, and is a clever little dressmaker for little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +people. Her friend Lizzie," continued Riah, +introducing the second girl. "They are good +girls, both, and as busy as they are good; in +spare moments they come up here and take to +book learning."</p> + +<p>"We are glad to come up here for rest, sir," +said Lizzie, with a grateful look at the old Jew. +"No one can tell the rest what this place is to us."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Mr. Fledgeby, looking round, +"Humph!" He was so much surprised that +apparently he couldn't get beyond that word, and +as he went down again the old chimney-pots in +their black cowls seemed to turn round and look +after him as if they were saying "Humph" too.</p> + +<p>Lizzie, the elder of these two girls, was strong +and handsome, but little Jenny Wren, whom she +so loved and protected, was small and deformed, +though she had a beautiful little face, and the +longest and loveliest golden hair in the world, +which fell about her like a cloak of shining curls, +as though to hide the poor little mis-shapen +figure.</p> + +<p>The Jew Riah, as well as Lizzie, was always +kind and gentle to Jenny Wren, who called him her +godfather. She had a father, who shared her +poor little rooms, whom she called her child; for +he was a bad, drunken, worthless old man, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +the poor girl had to care for him, and earn money +to keep them both. She suffered a great deal, +for the poor little bent back always ached sadly, +and was often weary from constant work but it +was only on rare occasions, when alone or with +her friend Lizzie, who often brought her work and +sat in Jenny's room, that the brave child ever +complained of her hard lot. Sometimes the two +girls Jenny helping herself along with a crutch, +would go and walk about the fashionable streets, +in order to note how the grand folks were dressed. +As they walked along, Jenny would tell her friend +of the fancies she had when sitting alone at her +work. "I imagine birds till I can hear them sing," +she said one day, "and flowers till I can smell +them. And oh! the beautiful children that come +to me in the early mornings! They are quite +different to other children, not like me, never cold, +or anxious, or tired, or hungry, never any pain; +they come in numbers, in long bright slanting +rows, all dressed in white, and with shiny heads. +'Who is this in pain?' they say, and they sweep +around and about me, take me up in their arms, +and I feel so light, and all the pain goes. I know +when they are coming a long way off, by hearing +them say, 'Who is this in pain?' and I answer, +'Oh my blessed children, it's poor me! have pity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +on me, and take me up and then the pain will +go."</p> + +<p>Lizzie sat stroking and brushing the beautiful +hair, whilst the tired little dressmaker leant +against her when they were at home again, and as +she kissed her good-night, a miserable old man +stumbled into the room. "How's my Jenny +Wren, best of children?" he mumbled, as he +shuffled unsteadily towards her, but Jenny pointed +her small finger towards him, exclaiming—"Go +along with you, you bad, wicked old child, you +troublesome, wicked old thing, <i>I</i> know where you +have been, <i>I</i> know your tricks and your manners." +The wretched man began to whimper like a +scolded child. "Slave, slave, slave, from morning +to night," went on Jenny, still shaking her +finger at him, "and all for this; ain't you ashamed +of yourself, you disgraceful boy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; my dear, yes," stammered the tipsy old +father, tumbling into a corner. Thus was the +poor little dolls' dressmaker dragged down day +by day by the very hands that should have cared +for and held her up; poor, poor little dolls' dressmaker! +One day when Jenny was on her way +home with Riah, who had accompanied her on +one of her walks to the West End, they came on a +small crowd of people. A tipsy man had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +knocked down and badly hurt. "Let us see what +it is!" said Jenny, coming swiftly forward on her +crutches. The next moment she exclaimed—"Oh, +gentlemen—gentlemen, he is my child, he +belongs to me, my poor, bad old child!"</p> + +<p>"Your child—belongs to you," repeated the +man who was about to lift the helpless figure on +to a stretcher, which had been brought for the +purpose. "Aye, it's old Dolls—tipsy old Dolls," +cried someone in the crowd, for it was by this +name that they knew the old man.</p> + +<p>"He's her father, sir," said Riah in a low tone +to the doctor who was now bending over the +stretcher.</p> + +<p>"So much the worse," answered the doctor, +"for the man is dead."</p> + +<p>Yes, "Mr. Dolls" was dead, and many were the +dresses which the weary fingers of the sorrowful +little worker must make in order to pay for his +humble funeral and buy a black frock for herself. +Riah sat by her in her poor room, saying a word +of comfort now and then, and Lizzie came and +went, and did all manner of little things to help +her; but often the tears rolled down on to her +work. "My poor child," she said to Riah, "my +poor old child, and to think I scolded him so."</p> + +<p>"You were always a good, brave, patient girl,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +returned Riah, smiling a little over her quaint +fancy about her <i>child</i>, "always good and patient, +however tired."</p> + +<p>And so the poor little "person of the house" +was left alone but for the faithful affection of the +kind Jew and her friend Lizzie. Her room grew +pretty and comfortable, for she was in great +request in her "profession," as she called it, and +there were now no one to spend and waste her +earnings. But nothing could make her life +otherwise than a suffering one till the happy +morning when her child-angels visited her for the +last time and carried her away to the land where +all such pain as hers is healed for evermore.</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> +<h2>IX.</h2> + +<h3>PIP'S ADVENTURE</h3> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 328px;"> +<img src="images/illus-204.jpg" width="328" height="500" alt=""Keep Still, You Little Imp, or I'll Cut Your Throat." Page 185" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Keep Still, You Little Imp, or I'll Cut Your Throat."</span> <div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_185">Page 185</a></div> +</div><div class='cap'>ALL that little Philip Pirrip, usually called +Pip, knew about his father and mother, +and his five little brothers, was from seeing +their tombstones in the churchyard. He was +cared for by his sister, who was twenty years older +than himself. She had married a blacksmith, +named Joe Gargery, a kind, good man, while she, +unfortunately, was a hard, stern woman, and +treated her little brother and her amiable husband +with great harshness. They lived in a marshy +part of the country, about twenty miles from the +sea.</div> + +<p>One cold, raw day towards evening, when Pip +was about six years old, he had wandered into the +churchyard, and was trying to make out what he +could of the inscriptions on his family tombstones. +The darkness was coming on, and feeling very +lonely and frightened, he began to cry.</p> + +<p>"Hold your noise!" cried a terrible voice; and +a man started up from among the graves close to +him. "Keep still, you little imp, or I'll cut your +throat!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was a dreadful looking man, dressed in +coarse gray cloth, with a great iron on his leg. +Wet, muddy, and miserable, he limped and +shivered, and glared and growled; his teeth +chattered in his head, as he seized Pip, by the chin.</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't cut my throat, sir," cried Pip, in +terror. "Pray don't do it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Tell us your name!" said the man. "Quick!"</p> + +<p>"Pip, sir."</p> + +<p>"Once more," said the man, staring at him, +"Give it mouth."</p> + +<p>"Pip. Pip, sir."</p> + +<p>"Show us where you live," said the man. +"Point out the place."</p> + +<p>Pip showed him the village, about a mile or +more from the church.</p> + +<p>The man looked at him for a moment, and then +turned him upside down and emptied his pockets. +He found nothing in them but a piece of bread, +which he ate ravenously.</p> + +<p>"You young dog," said the man, licking his +lips, "what fat cheeks you ha' got. . . . +Darn me if I couldn't eat 'em, and if I han't half +a mind to!"</p> + +<p>Pip said earnestly that he hoped he would not.</p> + +<p>"Now lookee here," said the man. "Where's +your mother?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There sir," said Pip.</p> + +<p>At this the man started and seemed about to +run away, but stopped and looked over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"There, sir," explained Pip, showing him the +tombstone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, and is that your father along of your +mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Pip.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" muttered the man, "then who d'ye live +with—supposin' you're kindly let to live, which I +han't made up my mind about?"</p> + +<p>"My sister, sir, Mrs. Joe Gargery, wife of Joe +Gargery, the blacksmith, sir."</p> + +<p>"Blacksmith, eh?" said the man, and looked +down at his leg. Then he seized the trembling +little boy by both arms, and glaring down at him, +he said—</p> + +<p>"Now lookee here, the question being whether +you're to be let to live. You know what a file is?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And you know what wittles is. Something +to eat?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"You get me a file, and you get me wittles—you +bring 'em both to me." All this time he was +tilting poor Pip backwards till he was so dreadfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +frightened and giddy that he clung to the +man with both hands.</p> + +<p>"You bring me, to-morrow morning early, that +file and them wittles. You do it, and you never +dare to say a word or dare to make a sign concerning +your having seen such a person as me, or +any person sumever, and you shall be let to live." +Then he threatened all sorts of dreadful and terrible +things to poor Pip if he failed to do all he had +commanded, and made him solemnly promise to +bring him what he wanted, and to keep the secret. +Then he let him go, saying, "You remember what +you've undertook, and you get home."</p> + +<p>"Goo—good-night, sir," faltered Pip.</p> + +<p>"Much of that!" said he, glancing over the cold +wet flat. "I wish I was a frog or a eel!"</p> + +<p>Pip ran home without stopping. Joe was sitting +in the chimney-corner, and told him Mrs. Joe +had been out to look for him, and taken Tickler +with her. Tickler was a cane, and Pip was rather +downhearted by this piece of news.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Joe came in almost directly, and, after +having given Pip a taste of Tickler, she sat down to +prepare the tea, and, cutting a huge slice of bread +and butter, she gave half of it to Joe and half to +Pip. Pip managed, after some time, to slip his +down the leg of his trousers, and Joe, thinking he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +had swallowed it, was dreadfully alarmed and +begged him not to bolt his food like that. "Pip, +old chap, you'll do yourself a mischief—it'll stick +somewhere, you can't have chewed it, Pip. You +know, Pip, you and me is always friends and I'd +be the last one to tell upon you any time, but +such a—such a most uncommon bolt as that."</p> + +<p>"Been bolting his food, has he?" cried Mrs. Joe.</p> + +<p>"You know, old chap," said Joe. "I bolted +myself when I was your age—frequent—and as a +boy I've been among a many bolters; but I +never see your bolting equal yet, Pip, and it's a +mercy you ain't bolted dead."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Joe made a dive at Pip, fished him up by +the hair, saying, "You come along and be dosed."</p> + +<p>It was Christmas eve, and Pip had to stir the +pudding from seven to eight, and found the bread +and butter dreadfully in his way. At last he +slipped out and put it away in his little bedroom.</p> + +<p>Poor Pip passed a wretched night, thinking of +the dreadful promise he had made, and as soon as +it was beginning to get light outside he got up +and crept down-stairs, fancying that every board +creaked out "Stop thief!" and "Get up, Mrs. Joe!"</p> + +<p>As quickly as he could, he took some bread, +some rind of cheese, about half a jar of mince-meat, +which he tied up in a handkerchief, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +the slice of bread and butter, some brandy from +a stone bottle, a meat-bone with very little on it, +and a pork-pipe, which he found on an upper shelf. +Then he got a file from among Joe's tools, and ran +for the marshes.</p> + +<p>It was a very misty morning, and Pip imagined +that all the cattle stared at him, as if to say, +"Halloa, young thief!" and one black ox with a +white cravat on, that made Pip think of a clergyman, +looked so accusingly at him, that Pip blubbered +out, "I couldn't help it, sir! It wasn't for +myself I took it."</p> + +<p>Upon which the ox put down his head, blew a +cloud of smoke out of his nose, and vanished with +a kick-up of his hind legs and a flourish of his +tail.</p> + +<p>Pip was soon at the place of meeting after that, +and there was the man—hugging himself and limping +to and fro, as if he had never all night left +off hugging and limping. He was awfully cold, +to be sure. Pip half expected to see him drop +down before his face and die of cold. His eyes +looked so awfully hungry, too, that when Pip +handed him the file it occurred to him he would +have tried to eat it, if he had not seen the bundle. +He did not turn Pip upside down, this time, to get +at what he had, but left him right side upward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +while he opened the bundle and emptied his +pockets.</p> + +<p>"What's in the bottle, boy?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Brandy," said Pip.</p> + +<p>He was already handing mince-pie down his +throat in the most curious manner, more like a +man who was putting it away somewhere in a +violent hurry than a man who was eating it—but +he left off to take some of the liquor, shivering +all the while so violently that it was quite as +much as he could do to keep the neck of the bottle +between his teeth.</p> + +<p>"I think you have got the chills," said Pip.</p> + +<p>"I'm much of your opinion, boy," said he.</p> + +<p>"It's bad about here. You've been lying out +on the marshes, and they're dreadful for the chills. +Rheumatic, too."</p> + +<p>"I'll eat my breakfast before they're the death +of me," said he. "I'd do that, if I was going to +be strung up to that there gallows as there is over +there directly arterward. I'll beat the shivers +so far, I'll bet you a guinea."</p> + +<p>He was gobbling mince-meat, meat-bone, bread, +cheese, and pork-pie all at once, staring distrustfully +while he did so at the mist all round, and +often stopping—even stopping his jaws—to listen. +Some real or fancied sound, some clink upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +river or breathing of beasts upon the marsh, now +gave him a start, and he said, suddenly:</p> + +<p>"You're not a false imp? You brought no one +with you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir! No!"</p> + +<p>"Nor told nobody to follow you?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "I believe you. You'd be but +a fierce young hound indeed, if at your time of +life you should help to hunt a wretched warmint, +hunted as near death and dunghill as this poor +wretched warmint is!"</p> + +<p>Something clicked in his throat, as if he had +works in him like a clock, and was going to strike. +And he smeared his ragged, rough sleeve over his +eyes.</p> + +<p>Pitying his desolation, and watching him as he +gradually settled down upon the pie, Pip made +bold to say, "I am glad you enjoy it."</p> + +<p>"Did you speak?"</p> + +<p>"I said I was glad you enjoyed it."</p> + +<p>"Thankee, my boy—. I do."</p> + +<p>Pip had often watched a large dog eating his +food; and he now noticed a decided similarity +between the dog's way of eating and the man's. +The man took strong, sharp, sudden bites, just like +the dog. He swallowed, or rather snapped up,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +every mouthful too soon and too fast; and he +looked sideways here and there while he ate, as if +he thought there was danger of somebody's +coming to take the pie away. He was altogether +too unsettled in his mind over it to enjoy it comfortably, +Pip thought, or to have anybody to +dine with him, without making a chop with his +jaws at the visitor. In all of which particulars +he was very like the dog.</p> + +<p>Pip watched him trying to file the iron off his +leg, and then being afraid of stopping longer away +from home, he ran off.</p> + +<p>Pip passed a wretched morning, expecting every +moment that the disappearance of the pie would +be found out. But Mrs. Joe was too much taken +up with preparing the dinner, for they were expecting +visitors, and were to have a superb dinner, +consisting of a leg of pickled pork and greens, and +a pair of roast stuffed fowls, a mince-pie, and a +pudding.</p> + +<p>Just at the end of the dinner Pip thought his +time had come to be found out, for his sister said +graciously to her guests—</p> + +<p>"You must taste a most delightful and delicious +present I have had. It's a pie, a savory pork-pie."</p> + +<p>Pip could bear it no longer, and ran for the door, +and there ran head foremost into a party of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +soldiers with their muskets, one of whom held out +a pair of handcuffs to him, saying, "Here you are, +look sharp, come on." But they had not come +for him, they only wanted Joe to mend the handcuffs, +for they were on the search for two convicts +who had escaped and were somewhere hid in the +marshes. This turned the attention of Mrs. Joe +from the disappearance of the pie, without which +she had come back, in great astonishment. +When the handcuffs were mended the soldiers +went off, accompanied by Joe and one of the visitors, +and Joe took Pip and carried him on his +back.</p> + +<p>Pip whispered, "I hope, Joe, we shan't find +them," and Joe answered, "I'd give a shilling if +they had cut and run, Pip."</p> + +<p>But the soldiers soon caught them, and one was +the wretched man who had talked with Pip; and +once when he looked at Pip, the child shook his +head to try and let him know he had said nothing.</p> + +<p>But the convict, without looking at anyone, +told the sergeant he wanted to say something to +prevent other people being under suspicion, and +said he had taken some "wittles" from the blacksmith's. +"It was some broken wittles, that's +what it was, and a dram of liquor, and a +pie."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you happened to miss such an article +as a pie, blacksmith?" inquired the sergeant.</p> + +<p>"My wife did, at the very moment when you +came in. Don't you know, Pip?"</p> + +<p>"So," said the convict, looking at Joe, "you're +the blacksmith, are you? Then, I'm sorry to +say, I've eat your pie."</p> + +<p>"God knows you're welcome to it," said Joe. +"We don't know what you have done, but we +wouldn't have you starved to death for it, poor +miserable fellow-creature. Would us, Pip?"</p> + +<p>Then the boat came, and the convicts were +taken back to their prison, and Joe carried Pip +home.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Some years after, some mysterious friend sent +money for Pip to be educated and brought up as a +gentleman; but it was only when Pip was quite +grown up that he discovered this mysterious +friend was the wretched convict who had frightened +him so dreadfully that cold, dark Christmas eve. +He had been sent to a far away land, and there had +grown rich; but he never forgot the little boy who +had been kind to him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> +<h2>X.</h2> + +<h3>TODGERS'.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THIS is the story of a visit made by Mr. +Pecksniff, a very pompous man, and his two +daughters Miss Mercy and Miss Charity, +to the boarding-house kept by Mrs. Todgers, in +London; and a call while there on Miss Pinch, a +governess or young lady teaching in a rich family.</div> + +<p>Mr. Pecksniff with his two beautiful young +daughters looked about him for a moment, and +then knocked at the door of a very dingy building, +even among the choice collection of dingy houses +around, on the front of which was a little oval +board, like a tea-tray, with this inscription—"Commercial +Boarding-house: M. Todgers."</p> + +<p>It seemed that M. Todgers was not up yet, +for Mr. Pecksniff knocked twice and rang three +times without making any impression on anything +but a dog over the way. At last a chain and some +bolts were withdrawn with a rusty noise, and a +small boy with a large red head, and no nose to +speak of, and a very dirty boot on his left arm, +appeared; who (being surprised) rubbed the nose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +just mentioned with the back of a shoe-brush, and +said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Still abed, my man?" asked Mr. Pecksniff.</p> + +<p>"Still abed!" replied the boy. "I wish they +was still abed. They're very noisy abed; all +calling for their boots at once. I thought you was +the paper, and wondered why you didn't shove +yourself <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'though'">through</ins> the grating as usual. What do +you want?"</p> + +<p>Considering his years, which were tender, the +youth may be said to have asked this question +sternly, and in something of a defiant manner. +But Mr. Pecksniff, without taking offense at his +bearing, put a card in his hand, and bade him take +that up-stairs, and show them in the meanwhile +into a room where there was a fire.</p> + +<p>Surely there never was, in any other borough, +city, or hamlet, in the world, such a singular +sort of a place as Todgers'. And surely London, +to judge from that part of it which hemmed +Todgers' round, and hustled it, and crushed it, +and stuck its brick-and-mortar elbows into it, and +kept the air from it, and stood perpetually between +it and the light, was worthy of Todgers'.</p> + +<p>There were more trucks near Todgers' than you +would suppose a whole city could ever need; not +trucks at work but a vagabond race, forever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +lounging in the narrow lanes before their masters' +doors and stopping up the pass; so that when +a stray hackney-coach or lumbering wagon came +that way, they were the cause of such an uproar +as enlivened the whole neighborhood, and made +the very bells in the next church-tower ring again. +In the narrow dark streets near Todgers', wine-merchants +and wholesale dealers in grocery-ware +had perfect little towns of their own; and, deep +among the very foundations of these buildings, +the ground was undermined and burrowed out +into stables, where cart-horses, troubled by rats, +might be heard on a quiet Sunday, rattling their +halters, as disturbed spirits in tales of haunted +houses are said to clank their chains.</p> + +<p>To tell of half the queer old taverns that had a +drowsy and secret existence near Todgers' would +fill a goodly book; while a second volume no less +in size might be given to an account of the quaint +old guests who frequented their dimly-lighted +parlors.</p> + +<p>The top of the house was worthy of notice. +There was a sort of terrace on the roof, with posts +and fragments of rotten lines, once intended to +dry clothes upon; and there were two or three +tea-chests out there, full of earth, with forgotten +plants in them, like old walking-sticks. Whoever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +climbed to this observatory was stunned at first +from having knocked his head against the little +door in coming out; and, after that, was for the +moment choked from having looked, perforce, +straight down the kitchen chimney; but these two +stages over, there were things to gaze at from the +top of Todgers', well worth your seeing, too. For, +first and foremost, if the day were bright, you +observed upon the house-tops, stretching far +away, a long dark path—the shadow of the tall +Monument which stands in memory of the great +fire in London many years before: and turning +round, the Monument itself was close beside you, +with every hair erect upon his golden head, as if +the doings of the city frightened him. Then +there were steeples, towers, belfries, shining +vanes and masts of ships, a very forest. Gables, +house-tops, garret-windows, wilderness upon wilderness. +Smoke and noise enough for all the +world at once.</p> + +<p>After the first glance, there were slight features +in the midst of this crowd of objects, which sprung +out from the mass without any reason, as it were, +and took hold of the attention whether the spectator +would or no. Thus, the revolving chimney-pots +on one great stack of buildings seemed to be +turning gravely to each other every now and then,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +and whispering the result of their separate observation +of what was going on below. Others, of a +crooked-back shape, appeared to be maliciously +holding themselves askew, that they might shut +the prospect out and baffle Todgers'. The man +who was mending a pen at an upper window over +the way became of vast importance in the scene, +and made a blank in it, ridiculously large in its +size, when he went away. The fluttering of a +piece of cloth upon the dyer's pole had far more +interest for the moment than all the changing +motion of the crowd. Yet even while the looker-on +felt angry with himself for this, and wondered +how it was the tumult swelled into a roar; the +hosts of objects seemed to thicken and expand a +hundredfold; and after gazing round him, quite +scared, he turned into Todgers' again, much more +rapidly than he came out; and ten to one he told +M. Todgers afterwards that if he hadn't done so, +he would certainly have come into the street by +the shortest cut: that is to say, head-foremost.</p> + +<p>So said the two Miss Pecksniffs, when they came +down with Mrs. Todgers from the roof of the house; +leaving the youthful porter to close the door and +follow them down-stairs: who being of a playful +temperament, and contemplating with a delight +peculiar to his sex and time of life any chance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +of dashing himself into small fragments, lingered +behind to walk upon the wall around the roof.</p> + +<p>It was the second day of their stay in London, +and by this time the Misses Pecksniff and Mrs. +Todgers were becoming very friendly, insomuch +that the last-named lady had already told the +story of three early disappointments in love; and +had furthermore given her young friends a general +account of the life, conduct, and character of Mr. +Todgers: who, it seemed, had cut his life as a +husband rather short, by unlawfully running +away from his happiness, and staying for a time in +foreign countries as a bachelor.</p> + +<p>"Your pa was once a little particular in his +attentions, my dears," said Mrs. Todgers, "but +to be your ma was too much happiness denied me. +You'd hardly know who this was done for, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>She called their attention to an oval miniature, +like a little blister, which was tacked up over the +kettle-holder, and in which there was a dreamy +shadowing forth of her own visage.</p> + +<p>"It's a speaking likeness!" cried the two Misses +Pecksniff.</p> + +<p>"It was considered so once," said Mrs. Todgers, +warming herself in a gentlemanly manner at the +fire: "but I hardly thought you would have +known it, my loves."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>They would have known it anywhere. If they +could have met with it in the street or seen it in a +shop-window, they would have cried, "Good +gracious! Mrs. Todgers!"</p> + +<p>"Being in charge of a boarding-house like this +makes sad havoc with the features, my dear Misses +Pecksniff," said Mrs. Todgers. "The gravy alone +is enough to add twenty years to one's age, I do +assure you."</p> + +<p>"Lor!" cried the two Misses Pecksniff.</p> + +<p>"The anxiety of that one thing, my dears," +said Mrs. Todgers, "keeps the mind continually +upon the stretch. There is no such passion in +human nature as the passion for gravy among +business men. It's nothing to say a joint won't +yield—a whole animal wouldn't yield—the amount +of gravy they expect each day at dinner. And +what I have undergone in consequence," cried +Mrs. Todgers, raising her eyes and shaking her +head, "no one would believe!"</p> + +<p>"Just like Mr. Pinch, Mercy!" said Charity. +"We have always noticed it in him, you remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear," giggled Mercy, "but we have +never given it him, you know."</p> + +<p>Mr. Pecksniff kept what was called a school +for architects, and Tom Pinch was one of his students.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You, my dears, having to deal with your pa's +pupils who can't help themselves, are able to take +your own way," said Mrs. Todgers, "but in a +boarding-house, where any gentleman may say, +any Saturday evening, 'Mrs. Todgers, this day +week we part, in consequence of the cheese,' +it is not so easy to preserve a pleasant understanding. +Your pa was kind enough," added the good +lady, "to invite me to take a ride with you to-day; +and I think he mentioned that you were going to +call upon Miss Pinch. Any relation to the gentleman +you were speaking of just now, Miss Pecksniff?"</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake, Mrs. Todgers," interposed +the lively Mercy, "don't call him a gentleman. +My dear Cherry, Pinch a gentleman! The +idea!"</p> + +<p>"What a wicked girl you are!" cried Mrs. Todgers, +embracing her with great affection. "You +are quite a joker, I do declare! My dear Miss +Pecksniff, what a happiness your sister's spirits +must be to your pa and self!"</p> + +<p>"That Pinch is the most hideous, goggle-eyed +creature, Mrs. Todgers, in existence," resumed +Mercy: "quite an ogre. The ugliest, awkwardest, +frightfullest being, you can imagine. This +is his sister, so I leave you to suppose what <i>she</i> is.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +I shall be obliged to laugh outright, I know I +shall!" cried the charming girl. "I never shall +be able to keep my face straight. The notion +of a Miss Pinch really living at all is sufficient to +kill one, but to see her—oh my stars!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Todgers laughed immensely at the dear +love's humor, and declared she was quite afraid of +her, that she was. She was so very severe.</p> + +<p>"Who is severe?" cried a voice at the door. +"There is no such thing as severity in our family, +I hope!" And then Mr. Pecksniff peeped smilingly +into the room, and said, "May I come in, +Mrs. Todgers?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Todgers almost screamed, for the little +door between that room and the inner one being +wide open, there was a full showing of the sofa-bedstead +open as a bed, and not closed as a sofa. +But she had the presence of mind to close it in the +twinkling of an eye; and having done so, said, +though not without confusion, "Oh yes, Mr. +Pecksniff, you can come in if you please."</p> + +<p>"How are we to-day," said Mr. Pecksniff, +jocosely; "and what are our plans? Are we +ready to go and see Tom Pinch's sister? Ha, ha, +ha! Poor Thomas Pinch!"</p> + +<p>"Are we ready," returned Mrs. Todgers, nodding +her head in a mysterious manner, "to send a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +favorable reply to Mr. Jinkins' round-robin?<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> +That's the first question, Mr. Pecksniff."</p> + +<p>"Why Mr. Jinkins' robin, my dear madam?" +asked Mr. Pecksniff, putting one arm round +Mercy and the other round Mrs. Todgers, whom +he seemed for the moment, to mistake for Charity. +"Why Mr. Jinkins'?"</p> + +<p>"Because he began to get it up, and indeed +always takes the lead in the house," said Mrs. +Todgers, playfully. "That's why, sir."</p> + +<p>"Jinkins is a man of superior talents," observed +Mr. Pecksniff. "I have formed a great regard for +Jinkins. I take Jinkins' desire to pay polite attention +to my daughters as an additional proof of the +friendly feelings of Jinkins, Mrs. Todgers."</p> + +<p>"Well now," returned the lady, "having said +so much, you must say the rest, Mr. Pecksniff: so +tell the dear young ladies all about it."</p> + +<p>With these words, she gently drew away from +Mr. Pecksniff's grasp, and took Miss Charity +into her own embrace; though whether she was +led to this act solely by the affection she had conceived +for that young lady, or whether it had any +reference to a lowering, not to say distinctly +spiteful expression which had been visible in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +face for some moments, has never been exactly +ascertained. Be this as it may, Mr. Pecksniff +went on to inform his daughters of the purpose and +history of the round-robin aforesaid, which was, in +brief, that the young men who helped to make +up the sum and substance of that company, called +Todgers', desired the honor of their presence at +the general table so long as they remained in the +house, and besought that they would grace the +board at dinner-time next day, the same being +Sunday. He further said that, Mrs. Todgers +having consented to this invitation, he was willing, +for his part, to accept it; and so left them that he +might write his gracious answer, the while they +armed themselves with their best bonnets for the +utter defeat and overthrow of Miss Pinch.</p> + +<p>Tom Pinch's sister was governess in a family, +a lofty family; perhaps the wealthiest brass and +copper founder's family known to mankind. +They lived at Camberwell; in a house so big and +fierce that its mere outside, like the outside of a +giant's castle, struck terror into vulgar minds +and made bold persons quail. There was a great +front gate, with a great bell, whose handle was in +itself a note of admiration; and a great lodge, +which, being close to the house, rather spoiled +the look-out certainly, but made the look-in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +tremendous. At this entry, a great porter kept +constant watch and ward; and when he gave the +visitor high leave to pass, he rang a second great +bell, answering to whose notes a great footman +appeared in due time at the great hall-door with +such great tags upon his liveried shoulders that +he was perpetually entangling and hooking himself +among the chairs and tables and led a life of +torment which could scarcely have been surpassed +if he had been a blue-bottle in a world of cobwebs.</p> + +<p>To this mansion, Mr. Pecksniff, accompanied +by his daughters and Mrs. Todgers, drove gallantly +in a one-horse fly. The foregoing ceremonies +having been all performed, they were ushered +into the house, and so, by degrees, they got at last +into a small room with books in it, where Mr. +Pinch's sister was at that moment instructing her +eldest pupil: to wit, a little woman thirteen years +old, who had already arrived at such a pitch of +whalebone and education that she had nothing +girlish about her; which was a source of great +rejoicing to all her relations and friends.</p> + +<p>"Visitors for Miss Pinch!" said the footman. +He must have been an ingenious young man, for +he said it very cleverly; with a nice distinction +in his manner between the cold respect with which +he would have announced visitors to the family<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +and the warm personal interest with which he +would have announced visitors to the cook.</p> + +<p>"Visitors for Miss Pinch!"</p> + +<p>Miss Pinch rose hastily with such tokens of +agitation as plainly declared that her list of callers +was not numerous. At the same time, the little +pupil became alarmingly upright, and prepared +herself to take notice of all that might be said and +done. For the lady of the establishment was +curious in the natural history and habits of the +animal called Governess, and encouraged her +daughters to report thereon whenever occasion +served; which was, in reference to all parties concerned, +very proper, improving, and pleasant.</p> + +<p>It is a melancholy fact, but it must be related, +that Mr. Pinch's sister was not at all ugly. On +the contrary, she had a good face—a very mild +and friendly face; and a pretty little figure—slight +and short, but remarkable for its neatness. +There was something of her brother, much of him +indeed, in a certain gentleness of manner, and in +her look of timid truthfulness; but she was so far +from being a fright, or a dowdy, or a horror, or +anything else predicted by the two Misses Pecksniff, +that those young ladies naturally regarded her +with great indignation, feeling that this was by +no means what they had come to see.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Mercy, as having the larger share of gayety, +bore up the best against this disappointment, and +carried it off, in outward show at least, with a +titter; but her sister, not caring to hide her disdain, +expressed it pretty openly in her looks. As +to Mrs. Todgers, she leaned on Mr. Pecksniff's +arm and preserved a kind of genteel grimness, +suitable to any state of mind, and involving any +shade of opinion.</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed, Miss Pinch," said Mr. +Pecksniff, taking her hand condescendingly in one +of his, and patting it with the other. "I have +called to see you, in pursuance of a promise given +to your brother, Thomas Pinch. My name—compose +yourself, Miss Pinch—is Pecksniff."</p> + +<p>The good man spoke these words as though he +would have said, "You see in me, young person, +the friend of your race; the patron of your house; +the preserver of your brother, who is fed with +manna daily from my table; and in right of whom +there is a considerable balance in my favor at +present standing in the books beyond the sky. +But I have no pride, for I can afford to do without +it!"</p> + +<p>The poor girl felt it all as if it had been Gospel +Truth. Her brother, writing in the fullness of +his simple heart, had often told her so, and how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +much more! As Mr. Pecksniff ceased to speak, +she hung her head, and dropped a tear upon his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, Miss Pinch!" thought the sharp +pupil, "crying before strangers as if you didn't +like the situation!"</p> + +<p>"Thomas is well," said Mr. Pecksniff; "and +sends his love and this letter. I cannot say, poor +fellow, that he will ever become great in our profession; +but he has the will to do well, which is +the next thing to having the power; and, therefore, +we must bear with him. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"I know he has the will, sir," said Tom Pinch's +sister, "and I know how kindly and thoughtfully +you cherish it, for which neither he nor I can ever +be grateful enough, as we often say in writing to +each other. The young ladies, too," she added, +glancing gratefully at his two daughters. "I +know how much we owe to them."</p> + +<p>"My dears," said Mr. Pecksniff, turning to them +with a smile: "Thomas' sister is saying something +you will be glad to hear, I think."</p> + +<p>"We can't take any merit to ourselves, papa!" +cried Cherry, as they both showed Tom Pinch's +sister, with a courtesy, that they would feel +obliged if she would keep her distance. "Mr. +Pinch's being so well provided for is owing to you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +alone, and we can only say how glad we are to +hear that he is as grateful as he ought to be."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, Miss Pinch!" thought the pupil +again. "Got a grateful brother, living on other +people's kindness!"</p> + +<p>"It was very kind of you," said Tom Pinch's +sister, with Tom's own simplicity and Tom's own +smile, "to come here—very kind indeed: though +how great a kindness you have done me in gratifying +my wish to see you, and to thank you with my +own lips, you, who make so light of benefits conferred, +can scarcely think."</p> + +<p>"Very grateful; very pleasant; very proper;" +murmured Mr. Pecksniff.</p> + +<p>"It makes me happy too," said Ruth Pinch, +who, now that her first surprise was over, had a +chatty, cheerful way with her, and a single-hearted +desire to look upon the best side of everything, +which was the very moral and image of Tom; +"very happy to think that you will be able to tell +him how more than comfortably I am situated +here, and how unnecessary it is that he should ever +waste a regret on my being cast upon my own +resources. Dear me! So long as I heard that he +was happy and he heard that I was," said Tom's +sister, "we could both bear, without one impatient +or complaining thought, a great deal more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +ever we have had to endure, I am certain." And +if ever the plain truth were spoken on this occasionally +false earth, Tom's sister spoke it when she +said that.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Mr. Pecksniff, whose eyes had in the +meantime wandered to the pupil; "certainly. +And how do <i>you</i> do, my very interesting child?"</p> + +<p>"Quite well, I thank you, sir," replied that +frosty innocent.</p> + +<p>"A sweet face this, my dears," said Mr. Pecksniff, +turning to his daughters. "A charming +manner!"</p> + +<p>Both young ladies had been in delight with the +child of a wealthy house (through whom the +nearest road and shortest cut to her parents +might be supposed to lie) from the first. Mrs. +Todgers vowed that anything one-quarter so +angelic she had never seen. "She wanted but a +pair of wings, a dear," said that good woman, "to +be a young syrup"—meaning, possibly, young +sylph or seraph.</p> + +<p>"If you will give that to your distinguished +parents, my amiable little friend," said Mr. Pecksniff, +producing one of his professional cards, +"and will say that I and my daughters——"</p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Todgers, pa," said Mercy.</p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Todgers, of London," added Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +Pecksniff, "that I, and my daughters, and Mrs. +Todgers, of London, did not intrude upon them, +as our object simply was to take some notice of +Miss Pinch, whose brother is a young man in my +employment; but that I could not leave this very +noble mansion without adding my humble tribute, +as an architect, to the correctness and elegance +of the owner's taste, and to his just appreciation +of that beautiful art, to the cultivation of which I +have devoted a life, and to the promotion of whose +glory and advancement I have sacrificed a—a +fortune—I shall be very much obliged to you."</p> + +<p>"Missis' compliments to Miss Pinch," said the +footman, suddenly appearing and speaking in +exactly the same key as before, "and begs to know +wot my young lady is a-learning of just now."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Mr. Pecksniff, "here is the young +man. <i>He</i> will take the card. With my compliments, +if you please, young man. My dears, we +are interrupting the studies. Let us go."</p> + +<p>One evening, following the visit to Miss Pinch, +there was a great bustle at Todgers', partly owing +to some additional domestic preparations for the +morrow and partly to the excitement always +arising in that house from Saturday night, when +every gentleman's linen arrived at a different +hour in his own little bundle, with his private<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +account pinned on the outside. Shrill quarrels +from time to time arose between Mrs. Todgers +and the girls in remote back kitchens; and sounds +were occasionally heard, indicative of small +articles of ironmongery and hardware being +thrown at the boy. It was the custom of that +youth on Saturdays to roll up his shirt sleeves to +his shoulders, and pervade all parts of the house +in an apron of coarse green baize; moreover, he +was more strongly tempted on Saturdays than on +other days (it being a busy time) to make bolts +into the neighboring alleys when he answered +the door, and there to play at leap-frog and other +sports with vagrant lads, until pursued and +brought back by the hair of his head or the lobe +of his ear; thus, he was quite a conspicuous feature +among the peculiar incidents of the last day in +the week at Todgers'.</p> + +<p>He was especially so on this particular Saturday +evening, and honored the Misses Pecksniff with +a deal of notice; seldom passing the door of Mrs. +Todgers' private room, where they sat alone before +the fire, without putting in his head and greeting +them with some such compliments as, "There you +are again!" "Ain't it nice?"—and similar humorous +attentions.</p> + +<p>"I say," he whispered, stopping in one of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +journeys to and fro, "young ladies, there's soup +to-morrow. She's a-making it now. Ain't she +a-putting in the water? Oh! not at all neither!"</p> + +<p>In the course of answering another knock, he +thrust in his head again:</p> + +<p>"I say—there's fowls to-morrow. Not skinny +ones. Oh no!"</p> + +<p>Presently he called through the keyhole:</p> + +<p>"There's a fish to-morrow—just come. Don't +eat none of him!" and with this spectral warning +vanished again.</p> + +<p>By-and-by, he returned to lay the cloth for +supper. He entertained them on this occasion +by thrusting the lighted candle into his mouth, +after the performance of which feat, he went on +with his professional duties; brightening every +knife as he laid it on the table, by breathing on the +blade and afterwards polishing the same on the +apron already mentioned. When he had completed +his preparations, he grinned at the sisters, +and expressed his belief that the approaching +meal would be of "rather a spicy sort."</p> + +<p>"Will it be long before it's ready, Bailey?" +asked Mercy.</p> + +<p>"No," said Bailey, "it <i>is</i> cooked. When I +come up she was dodging among the tender +pieces with a fork, and eating of 'em."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>But he had scarcely achieved the utterance of +these words, when he received a sudden blow on +the head, which sent him staggering against the +wall; and Mrs. Todgers, dish in hand, stood +indignantly before him.</p> + +<p>"Oh you little villain!" said that lady. "Oh +you bad, false boy!"</p> + +<p>"No worse than yerself," retorted Bailey, +guarding his head with his arm. "Ah! Come +now! Do that agin, will yer!"</p> + +<p>"He's the most dreadful child," said Mrs. +Todgers, setting down the dish, "I ever had to +deal with. The gentlemen spoil him to that +extent, and teach him such things, that I'm afraid +nothing but hanging will ever do him any good."</p> + +<p>"Won't it!" cried Bailey. "Oh! Yes! Wot +do you go a-lowerin' the table-beer for, then, and +destroying my constitooshun?"</p> + +<p>"Go down-stairs, you vicious boy!" said Mrs. +Todgers, holding the door open. "Do you hear +me? Go along!"</p> + +<p>After two or three skilful dodges he went, and +was seen no more that night, save once, when he +brought up some tumblers and hot water, and +much disturbed the two Misses Pecksniff by squinting +hideously behind the back of the unconscious +Mrs. Todgers. Having done this justice to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +wounded feelings, he retired under-ground; where, +in company with a swarm of black beetles and a +kitchen candle, he employed himself in cleaning +boots and brushing clothes until the night was +far advanced.</p> + +<p>Benjamin was supposed to be the real name of +this young servant, but he was known by a great +variety of names. Benjamin, for instance, had +been converted into Uncle Ben, and that again +had been corrupted into Uncle. The gentlemen +at Todgers' had a merry habit, too, of bestowing +upon him, for the time being, the name of any +notorious criminal or minister; and sometimes, +when current events were flat, they even sought +the pages of history for these distinctions; as Mr. +Pitt, Young Brownrigg, and the like. At the +period of which we write, he was generally known +among the gentlemen as Bailey junior; a name +bestowed upon him in contradistinction, perhaps, +to the Old Bailey prison; and possibly as involving +the recollection of an unfortunate lady of the same +name, who perished by her own hand early in life, +and has been made famous in a song.</p> + +<p>The usual Sunday dinner-hour at Todgers' was +two o'clock—a suitable time, it was considered, +for all parties; convenient to Mrs. Todgers, on +account of the baker's; and convenient to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +gentlemen, with reference to their afternoon +engagements. But on the Sunday which was to +introduce the two Misses Pecksniff to a full knowledge +of Todgers' and its society, the dinner was +postponed until five, in order that everything +might be as genteel as the occasion demanded.</p> + +<p>When the hour drew nigh, Bailey junior, testifying +great excitement, appeared in a complete suit +of cast-off clothes several sizes too large for him, +and, in particular, mounted a clean shirt of such +extraordinary magnitude that one of the gentlemen +(remarkable for his ready wit) called him +"collars" on the spot. At about a quarter before +five a deputation, consisting of Mr. Jinkins and +another gentleman whose name was Gander, +knocked at the door of Mrs. Todgers' room, and, +being formally introduced to the two Misses Pecksniff +by their parent, who was in waiting, besought +the honor of showing them up-stairs.</p> + +<p>Here the gentlemen were all assembled. There +was a general cry of "Hear, hear!" and "Bravo, +Jink!" when Mr. Jinkins appeared with Charity +on his arm: which became quite rapturous as +Mr. Gander followed, escorting Mercy, and Mr. +Pecksniff brought up the rear with Mrs. Todgers.</p> + +<p>"The wittles is up!"</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> A "round-robin" is a letter signed by all the people of a company, +with the names written in a circle around the letter so that no name will +be first or last.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> +<h2>XI.</h2> + +<h3>DICK SWIVELLER AND THE MARCHIONESS.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>RICHARD SWIVELLER, a good-hearted, +though somewhat queer young man, the +clerk of Sampson Brass, a scheming lawyer, +often found time hanging heavily on his +hands; and for the better preservation of his +cheerfulness therefore, and to prevent his faculties +from rusting, he provided himself with a cribbage-board +and pack of cards, and accustomed himself +to play at cribbage with a dummy, for twenty, +thirty, or sometimes even fifty thousand pounds +a side, besides many hazardous bets to a considerable +amount.</div> + +<p>As these games were very silently conducted, +notwithstanding the greatness of the interests +involved, Mr. Swiveller, began to think that on +those evenings when Mr. and Miss Brass were out +(and they often went out now) he heard a kind of +snorting or hard-breathing sound in the direction +of the door, which it occurred to him, after some +thought, must proceed from the small servant,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +who always had a cold from damp living. Looking +intently that way one night, he plainly distinguished +an eye gleaming and glistening at the +keyhole; and having now no doubt that his +suspicions were correct, he stole softly to the door +and pounced upon her before she was aware of his +approach.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I didn't mean any harm indeed. Upon +my word I didn't," cried the small servant, struggling +like a much larger one. "It's so very dull +down-stairs. Please don't you tell upon me; +please don't."</p> + +<p>"Tell upon you!" said Dick. "Do you mean to +say you were looking through the keyhole for +company?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, upon my word I was," replied the small +servant.</p> + +<p>"How long have you been cooling your eye +there?" said Dick.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ever since you first began to play them +cards, and long before."</p> + +<p>Vague recollections of several fantastic exercises +such as dancing around the room, and bowing +to imaginary people with which he had refreshed +himself after the fatigues of business; all of which, +no doubt, the small servant had seen through the +keyhole, made Mr. Swiveller feel rather awkward;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +but he was not very sensitive on such points, and +recovered himself speedily.</p> + +<p>"Well—come in," he said, after a little thought. +"Here—sit down, and I'll teach you how to play."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I durstn't do it," rejoined the small servant. +"Miss Sally 'ud kill me, if she know'd I +came up here."</p> + +<p>"Have you got a fire down-stairs?" said Dick.</p> + +<p>"A very little one," replied the small servant.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sally couldn't kill me if she know'd I +went down there, so I'll come," said Richard, +putting the cards into his pocket. "Why, how +thin you are! What do you mean by it?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't my fault."</p> + +<p>"Could you eat any bread and meat?" said +Dick, taking down his hat. "Yes? Ah! I +thought so. Did you ever taste beer?"</p> + +<p>"I had a sip of it once," said the small servant.</p> + +<p>"Here's a state of things!" cried Mr. Swiveller, +raising his eyes to the ceiling. "She <i>never</i> tasted +it—it can't be tasted in a sip! Why, how old are +you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>Mr. Swiveller opened his eyes very wide and +appeared thoughtful for a moment; then, bidding +the child mind the door until he came back, vanished +straightway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently he returned, followed by the boy from +the public house, who bore in one hand a plate of +bread and beef and in the other a great pot, filled +with some very fragrant compound, which sent +forth a grateful steam, and was indeed choice purl +made after a particular rule which Mr. Swiveller +had given to the landlord at a period when he was +deep in his books and desirous to win his friendship. +Relieving the boy of his burden at the door, +and charging his little companion to fasten it to +prevent surprise, Mr. Swiveller followed her into +the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"There!" said Richard, putting the plate before +her. "First of all, clear that off, and then you'll +see what's next."</p> + +<p>The small servant needed no second bidding, +and the plate was soon empty.</p> + +<p>"Next," said Dick, handing the purl, "take a +pull at that; but moderate your delight, you +know, for you're not used to it. Well, is it +good?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! isn't it?" said the small servant.</p> + +<p>Mr. Swiveller appeared gratified beyond all +expression by this reply, and took a long draught +himself, steadfastly regarding his companion +while he did so. These matters disposed of, he +applied himself to teaching her the game, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +she soon learnt tolerably well, being both sharp-witted +and cunning.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mr. Swiveller, putting two sixpences +into a saucer, and trimming the wretched +candle, when the cards had been cut and dealt, +"those are the stakes. If you win, you get 'em +all. If I win, I get 'em. To make it seem more +real and pleasant, I shall call you the Marchioness, +do you hear?"</p> + +<p>The small servant nodded.</p> + +<p>"Marchioness," as the reader knows, is a title +to a lady of very high rank, and such Mr. Swiveller +chose to imagine this small servant to be.</p> + +<p>"Then, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, "fire +away!"</p> + +<p>The Marchioness, holding her cards very tight +in both hands, considered which to play, and Mr. +Swiveller, assuming the gay and fashionable air +which such society required, took another pull at +the jug and waited for her to lead in the game.</p> + +<p>Mr. Swiveller and his partner played several +rubbers with varying success, until the loss of three +sixpences, the gradual sinking of the purl, and the +striking of ten o'clock, combined to render that +gentleman mindful of the flight of time, and the +wisdom of withdrawing before Mr. Sampson and +Miss Sally Brass returned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + +<p>"With which object in view, Marchioness," +said Mr. Swiveller gravely, "I shall ask your ladyship's +permission to put the board in my pocket, +and to retire from the presence when I have +finished this glass; merely observing, Marchioness, +that since life like a river is flowing, I care not how +fast it rolls on, ma'am, on, while such purl on the +bank still is growing, and such eyes light the waves +as they run. Marchioness, your health! You will +excuse my wearing my hat but the palace is damp, +and the marble floor is—if I may be allowed the +expression—sloppy."</p> + +<p>As a protection against this latter inconvenience +Mr. Swiveller had been sitting for some time with +his feet on the hob, in which attitude he now gave +utterance to these apologetic observations, and +slowly sipped the last choice drops of nectar.</p> + +<p>"The Baron Sampsono Brasso and his fair sister +are (you tell me) at the Play?" said Mr. Swiveller, +leaning his left arm heavily upon the table, and +raising his voice and his right leg after the manner +of a bandit in the theater.</p> + +<p>The Marchioness nodded.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" said Mr. Swiveller with a portentous +frown. "'Tis well, Marchioness!—but no matter. +Some wine there. Ho!" He illustrated these +melodramatic morsels by handing the glass to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +himself with great humility, receiving it haughtily, +drinking from it thirstily, and smacking his lips +fiercely.</p> + +<p>The small servant, who was not so well acquainted +with theatrical customs as Mr. Swiveller +(having indeed never seen a play or heard one +spoken of, except by some chance through chinks +of doors and in other forbidden places), was +rather alarmed by demonstrations so strange in +their nature, and showed her concern so plainly +in her looks that Mr. Swiveller felt it necessary to +change his brigand manner for one more suitable +to private life, as he asked:</p> + +<p>"Do they often go where glory waits 'em, and +leave you here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I believe they do," returned the +small servant. "Miss Sally's such a one-er for +that, she is."</p> + +<p>"Such a what?" said Dick.</p> + +<p>"Such a one-er," returned the Marchioness.</p> + +<p>After a moment's reflection, Mr. Swiveller +determined to forego his responsible duty of setting +her right and to suffer her to talk on, as it +was evident that her tongue was loosened by the +purl and her opportunities for conversation were +not so frequent as to render a momentary check +of little consequence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They sometimes go to see Mr. Quilp," said the +small servant with a shrewd look; "they go to a +good many places, bless you."</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Brass a wunner?" said Dick.</p> + +<p>"Not half what Miss Sally is, he isn't," replied +the small servant, shaking her head. "Bless you, +he'd never do anything without her."</p> + +<p>"Oh! He wouldn't, wouldn't he?" said Dick.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sally keeps him in such order," said the +small servant; "he always asks her advice, he +does; and he catches it sometimes. Bless you, +you wouldn't believe how much he catches it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Dick, "that they consult +together a good deal, and talk about a great many +people—about me, for instance sometimes, eh, +Marchioness?"</p> + +<p>The Marchioness nodded amazingly.</p> + +<p>"Do they speak of me in a friendly manner?" +said Mr. Swiveller.</p> + +<p>The Marchioness changed the motion of her +head, which had not yet left off nodding, and +suddenly began to shake it from side to side so +hard as to threaten breaking her neck.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" Dick muttered. "Would it be any +breach of confidence, Marchioness, to relate what +they say of the humble individual who has now +the honor to——?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Miss Sally says you're a funny chap," replied +his friend.</p> + +<p>"Well, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, "that's +not uncomplimentary. Merriment, Marchioness, +is not a bad or degrading quality. Old King Cole +was himself a merry old soul, if we may put any +faith in the pages of history."</p> + +<p>"But she says," pursued his companion, "that +you ain't to be trusted."</p> + +<p>"Why, really, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller +thoughtfully; "several ladies and gentlemen—not +exactly professional persons, but tradespeople, +ma'am, tradespeople—have made the +same remark. The person who keeps the hotel +over the way inclined strongly to that opinion to-night +when I ordered him to prepare the banquet. +It's a popular prejudice, Marchioness; and yet I +am sure I don't know why, for I have been trusted +in my time to a considerable amount, and I can +safely say that I never forsook my trust until it +deserted me—never. Mr. Brass is of the same +opinion, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>His friend nodded again, with a cunning look +which seemed to hint that Mr. Brass held stronger +opinions on the subject than his sister; and seeming +to recollect herself, added imploringly, "But don't +you ever tell upon me, or I shall be beat to death."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, rising, "the +word of a gentleman is as good as his bond—sometimes +better; as in the present case, where +his bond might prove but a doubtful sort of +security. I am your friend, and I hope we shall +play many more rubbers together in the same +saloon. But, Marchioness," added Richard, stopping +on his way to the door, and wheeling slowly +round upon the small servant, who was following +with the candle, "it occurs to me that you must +be in the constant habit of airing your eye at +keyholes, to know all this."</p> + +<p>"I only wanted," replied the trembling Marchioness, +"to know where the key of the safe was +hid; that was all; and I wouldn't have taken +much, if I had found it—only enough to squench +my hunger."</p> + +<p>"You didn't find it, then?" said Dick. "But +of course you didn't, or you'd be plumper. Good-night, +Marchioness. Fare thee well, and if forever, +then forever fare thee well—and put up the chain, +Marchioness, in case of accidents."</p> + +<p>With this parting word, Mr. Swiveller came out +from the house; and feeling that he had by this +time taken quite as much to drink as promised to +be good for his constitution (purl being a rather +strong and heady compound), wisely resolved to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +betake himself to his lodgings, and to bed at once. +Homeward he went therefore; and his apartments +(for he still spoke of his one little room as "apartments") +being at no great distance from the office, +he was soon seated in his own bed-chamber, where, +having pulled off one boot and forgotten the +other, he fell into deep thought.</p> + +<p>"This Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, folding +his arms, "is a very extraordinary person—surrounded +by mysteries, ignorant of the taste of +beer, unacquainted with her own name (which is +less remarkable), and taking a limited view of +society through the keyholes of doors—can these +things be her destiny, or has some unknown person +started an opposition to the decrees of fate? +It is a most amazing staggerer!"</p> + +<p>When his meditations had attained this satisfactory +point, he became aware of his remaining +boot, of which, with great solemnity, he proceeded +to divest himself; shaking his head with exceeding +gravity all the time, and sighing deeply.</p> + +<p>"These rubbers," said Mr. Swiveller, putting on +his nightcap in exactly the same style as he wore +his hat, "remind me of the matrimonial fireside. +My old girl, Chegg's wife, plays cribbage; all-fours +alike. She rings the changes on 'em now. +From sport to sport they hurry her, to banish her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +regrets, and when they win a smile from her, they +think that she forgets—but she don't. By this +time, I should say," added Richard, getting his +left cheek into profile, and looking complacently +at the reflection of a very little scrap of whisker +in the looking-glass; "by this time, I should say, +the iron has entered into her soul. It serves her +right."</p> + +<p>Mr. Swiveller, it must be said had been at one +time somewhat in love with a young lady: but +she had left his love and married a Mr. Cheggs.</p> + +<p>Melting from this stern and harsh into the tender +and pathetic mood, Mr. Swiveller groaned a +little, walked wildly up and down, and even made +a show of tearing his hair, which, however, he +thought better of, and wrenched the tassel from +his nightcap instead. At last, undressing himself +with a gloomy resolution, he got into bed.</p> + +<p>Some men, in his blighted position, would have +taken to drinking; but as Mr. Swiveller had taken +to that before, he only took, on receiving the news +that this girl was lost to him forever, to playing +the flute; thinking, after mature consideration, +that it was a good, sound, dismal occupation, +not only in unison with his own sad thoughts, but +tending to awaken a fellow-feeling in the bosom, +of his neighbors. Following out this resolution,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +he now drew a little table to his bedside, and, +arranging the light and a small oblong music-book +to the best advantage, took his flute from +its box and began to play most mournfully.</p> + +<p>The air was "Away with melancholy"—a composition, +which, when it is played very slowly on +the flute in bed, with the farther disadvantage of +being performed by a gentleman not fully acquainted +with the instrument, who repeats one +note a great many times before he can find the +next, has not a lively effect. Yet for half the +night, or more, Mr. Swiveller, lying sometimes on +his back with his eyes upon the ceiling and sometimes +half out of bed to correct himself by the +book, played this unhappy tune over and over +again; never leaving off, save for a minute or two +at a time to take breath and talk to himself about +the Marchioness and then beginning again with +renewed vigor. It was not until he had quite +exhausted his several subjects of meditation, and +had breathed into the flute the whole sentiment +of the purl down to its very dregs, and had nearly +maddened the people of the house, and at both the +next doors, and over the way—that he shut up the +music-book, extinguished the candle, and, finding +himself greatly lightened and relieved in his mind, +turned round and fell asleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dick continued his friendly relations towards +the Marchioness, and when he fell ill with typhoid +fever his little friend nursed him back to health. +Just after this illness an aunt of his died and left +him quite a large sum of money, a portion of which +he used to educate the Marchioness, whom he +afterwards married.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> +<h2>XII.</h2> + +<h3>MR. WARDLE'S SERVANT JOE.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>AN old country gentleman named Wardle had +a servant of whom he was very proud, not +because of the latter's diligence, but because +Joe, commonly called the "Fat Boy," was a +character which could not be matched anywhere in +the world. At the time when our story opens, Mr. +Pickwick of London, and three others of his +literary club, were traveling in search of adventure. +With Mr. Pickwick, the founder and head of the +Pickwick club, were Mr. Tupman, whose great +weakness for the ladies brought him frequent +troubles, Mr. Winkle, whose desire to appear as a +sport brought much ridicule upon himself, and +Mr. Snodgrass, whose poetic nature induced him +to write many romantic verses which amused his +friends and all who read them. These four Pickwickians +were introduced one day to Mr. Wardle, +his aged sister Miss Rachel Wardle, and his two +daughters, Emily and Isabella, as they were looking +at some army reviews from their coach. Mr. +Wardle hospitably asked Mr. Pickwick and his +friends to join them in the coach.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></div> + +<p>"Come up here! Mr. Pickwick," said Mr. +Wardle, "come along sir. Joe! Drat that boy! +He's gone to sleep again. Joe, let down the steps +and open the carriage door. Come ahead, room +for two of you inside and one outside. Joe, make +room for one. Put this gentleman on the box!" +Mr. Wardle mounted with a little help and the fat +boy, where he was, fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>One rank of soldiers after another passed, firing +over the heads of another rank, and when the +cannon went off the air resounded with the screams +of ladies. Mr. Snodgrass actually found it +necessary to support one of the Misses Wardle +with his arm. Their maidenly aunt was in +such a dreadful state of nervous alarm that +Mr. Tupman found that <i>he</i> was obliged to +put his arm about <i>her</i> waist to keep her up +at all. Everyone was excited with the exception +of the fat boy, and he slept as +soundly as if the roaring of cannon were his +ordinary lullaby.</p> + +<p>"Joe! Joe!" called Mr. Wardle. "Drat that +boy! He's gone asleep again. Pinch him in the +leg, if you please. Nothing else wakens him. +Thank you. Get out the lunch, Joe." The fat +boy, who had been effectually aroused by Mr. +Winkle, proceeded to unpack the hamper with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +more quickness than could have been expected +from his previous inactivity.</p> + +<p>"Now Joe, knives and forks." The knives and +forks were handed in and each one was furnished +with these useful implements.</p> + +<p>"Now Joe, the fowls. Drat that boy! He's +gone asleep again. Joe! Joe!" Numerous taps +on the head with a stick and the fat boy with some +difficulty was awakened. "Go hand in the eatables." +There was something in the sound of the +last word which aroused him. He jumped up +with reddened eyes which twinkled behind his +mountainous cheeks, and feasted upon the food +as he unpacked it from the basket.</p> + +<p>"Now make haste," said Mr. Wardle, for the fat +boy was hanging fondly over a chicken which he +seemed wholly unable to part with. The boy +sighed deeply and casting an ardent gaze upon +its plumpness, unwillingly handed it to his +master.</p> + +<p>"A very extraordinary boy, that," said Mr. +Pickwick. "Does he always sleep in this way?"</p> + +<p>"Sleep!" said the old gentleman. "He's always +sleeping. Goes on errands fast asleep and snores +as he waits at table."</p> + +<p>"How very odd," said Mr. Pickwick.</p> + +<p>"Ah! odd indeed," returned the old gentleman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +"I'm proud of that boy. Wouldn't part with him +on any account. He's a natural curiosity. Here, +Joe, take these things away and open another +bottle. Do you hear?" The fat boy aroused, +opened his eyes, started and finished the piece of +pie he was in the act of eating when he fell fast +asleep, and slowly obeyed his master's orders, +looking intently upon the remains of the feast as he +removed the plates and stowed them in the hamper. +At last Mr. Wardle and his party mounted +the coach and prepared to drive off.</p> + +<p>"Now mind," he said, as he shook hands with +Mr. Pickwick, "we expect to see you all to-morrow. +You have the address?"</p> + +<p>"Manor Farm, Dingley Dell," said Mr. Pickwick, +consulting his pocket-book.</p> + +<p>"That's it," said the old gentleman. "You +must come for at least a week. If you are traveling +to get country life, come to me and I will give +you plenty of it. Joe! Drat that boy, he's gone +to sleep again. Help put in the horses." The +horses were put in and the driver mounted and the +boy clambered up by his side. The farewells were +exchanged and the carriage rolled off. As the +Pickwickians turned around to take a last glimpse +of it the setting sun cast a red gold upon the faces +of their entertainers, and fell upon the form of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +fat boy. His head was sunk upon his bosom, and +he slumbered again.</p> + +<p>After some amusing difficulties, which we have +not space to describe here, Mr. Pickwick and his +friends arrived safely at the country home of Mr. +Wardle. The time passed very pleasantly.</p> + +<p>One day some of the men decided upon a shooting +trip, and Mr. <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Wardle'">Winkle</ins> , to maintain his reputation +as a sport, did not admit that he knew nothing +about guns. Mr. Pickwick, early in the morning, +seeing Mr. Wardle carrying a gun, asked what +they were going to do.</p> + +<p>"Why, your friend and I are going out rook +shooting. He's a very good shot, isn't he?" said +Mr. Wardle.</p> + +<p>"I have heard him say he's a capital one," +replied Mr. Pickwick, "but I never saw him aim at +anything."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the host, "I wish Mr. Tupman +would join us. Joe! Joe!" The fat boy who, +under the exciting influences of the morning, did +not appear to be more than three parts and a +fraction asleep, emerged from the house. "Go +up and call Mr. Tupman, and tell him he will find +us waiting." At last the party started, Mr. Tupman +having joined them. Some boys, who were +with them, discovered a tree with a nest in one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +the branches, and when all was ready Mr. Wardle +was persuaded to shoot first. The boys shouted, +and shook a branch with a nest on it, and a half-a-dozen +young rooks, in violent conversation, flew +out to ask what the matter was. Mr. Wardle +leveled his gun and fired; down fell one and off +flew the others.</p> + +<p>"Pick him up, Joe," said the old gentleman. +There was a smile upon the youth's face as he +advanced, for an indistinct vision of rook pie +floated through his imagination. He laughed as +he retired with the bird. It was a plump one.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Winkle," said the host, reloading +his own gun, "fire away." Mr. Winkle advanced +and raised his gun. Mr. Pickwick and his friends +crouched involuntarily to escape damage from +the heavy fall of birds which they felt quite certain +would be caused by their friend's skill. There +was a solemn pause, a shout, a flapping of wings.</p> + +<p>Mr. Winkle closed his eyes and fired; there was +a scream from an individual, not a rook. Mr. +Tupman had saved the lives of innumerable birds +by receiving a portion of the charge in his left arm. +Though it was a very slight wound, Mr. Tupman +made a great fuss about it and everyone was +horror-stricken. He was partly carried to the +house. The unmarried aunt uttered a piercing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +scream, burst into an hysterical laugh and fell +backwards into the arms of her nieces. She +recovered, screamed again, laughed again and +fainted again.</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself," said Mr. Tupman, affected +almost to tears by this expression of sympathy. +"Dear, dear Madam, calm yourself."</p> + +<p>"You are not dead?" exclaimed the hysterical +lady. "Say you are not dead!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Rachel," said Mr. Winkle. +"What the mischief is the use of his saying he +isn't dead?"</p> + +<p>"No! No! I am not," said Mr. Tupman. "I +require no assistance but yours. Let me lean on +your arm," he added in a whisper. Miss Rachel +advanced and offered her arm. They turned into +the breakfast parlor. Mr. Tupman gently pressed +her hands to his lips and sunk upon the sofa. +Presently the others left him to her tender mercies. +That afternoon Mr. Tupman, much affected by the +extreme tenderness of Miss Rachel, suggested +that as he was feeling much better they take a +short stroll in the garden. There was a bower at +the farther end, all honeysuckles and creeping +plants, and somehow they unconsciously wandered +in its direction and sat down on a bench +within.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 327px;"> +<img src="images/illus-261.jpg" width="327" height="500" alt=""Mr. Tupman, We Are Observed!"Page 240" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Mr. Tupman, We Are Observed!"</span><div class='pageref'><a href="#Page_240">Page 240</a></div> +</div> +<p>"Miss Wardle," said Mr. Tupman, "you are an +angel." Miss Rachel blushed very becomingly. +Much more conversation of this nature followed +until finally Mr. Tupman proceeded to do what his +enthusiastic emotions prompted and what were, +(for all we know, for we are but little acquainted +with such matters) what people in such circumstances +always do. She started, and he, throwing +his arms around her neck imprinted upon her lips +numerous kisses, which, after a proper show of +struggling and resistance, she received so passively +that there is no telling how many more Mr. Tupman +might have bestowed if the lady had not +given a very unaffected start and exclaimed: +"Mr. Tupman, we are observed! We are discovered!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Tupman looked around. There was the +fat boy perfectly motionless, with his large, circular +eyes staring into the arbor, but without the +slightest expression on his face. Mr. Tupman +gazed at the fat boy and the fat boy stared at him, +but the longer Mr. Tupman observed the utter +vacancy of the fat boy's face, the more convinced +he became that he either did not know or did not +understand anything that had been happening. +Under this impression he said with great fierceness: +"What do you want here?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Supper is ready, sir," was the prompt +reply.</p> + +<p>"Have you just come here?" inquired Mr. Tupman, +with a piercing look.</p> + +<p>"Just," replied the fat boy. Mr. Tupman +looked at him very hard again but there was not +a wink of his eye or a movement in his face. Mr. +Tupman took the arm of the spinster aunt and +walked toward the house. The fat boy followed +behind.</p> + +<p>"He knows nothing of what has happened," +he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said the spinster aunt. There was +a sound behind them as of an imperfectly suppressed +chuckle. Mr. Tupman turned sharply +around.</p> + +<p>No, it could not have been the fat boy. There +was not a gleam of mirth or anything but feeding +in his whole visage. "He must have been fast +asleep," whispered Mr. Tupman.</p> + +<p>"I have not the least doubt of it," replied Miss +Rachel, and they both laughed heartily. Mr. +Tupman was wrong. The fat boy for once had +not been fast asleep. He was awake, wide awake +to everything that had happened.</p> + +<p>The day following, Joe saw his mistress, Mr. +Wardle's aged mother, sitting in the arbor. Without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +saying a word he walked up to her, stood perfectly +still and said nothing.</p> + +<p>The old lady was easily frightened; most old +ladies are, and her first impression was that Joe +was about to do her some bodily harm with a view +of stealing what money she might have with her. +She therefore watched his motions, or rather lack +of motions, with feelings of intense terror, which +were in no degree lessened by his finally coming +close to her and shouting in her ear, for she was +very deaf, "Missus!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Joe," said the trembling old lady, "I +am sure I have been a good mistress to you." +He nodded. "You have always been treated very +kindly?" He nodded. "You have never had +too much to do?" He nodded. "You have +always had enough to eat?" This last was an +appeal to the fat boy's most sensitive feelings. +He seemed touched as he replied, "I know I has."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you want to do now?"</p> + +<p>"I wants to make yo' flesh creep," replied the +boy. This sounded like a very blood-thirsty +method of showing one's gratitude and so the old +lady was as much frightened as before. "What +do you think I saw in this very arbor last night?" +inquired the boy.</p> + +<p>"Mercies, what?" screamed the old lady,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +alarmed at the mysterious manner of the corpulent +youth.</p> + +<p>"A strange gentleman as had his arm around +her, a kissin' and huggin'."</p> + +<p>"Who, Joe, who? None of the servants, I +hope?"</p> + +<p>"Worser than that," roared the fat boy in the +old lady's ear.</p> + +<p>"None of my granddaughters."</p> + +<p>"Worser than that," said Joe.</p> + +<p>"Worse than that?" said the old lady, who had +thought this the extreme limit. "Who was it, +Joe? I insist upon knowing!"</p> + +<p>The fat boy looked cautiously about and having +finished his survey shouted in the old lady's ear, +"Miss Rachel!"</p> + +<p>"What?" said the old lady in a shrill tone, +"speak louder!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Rachel," roared the fat boy.</p> + +<p>"My daughter?" The succession of nods which +the fat boy gave by way of assent could not be +doubted. "And she allowed him?" exclaimed the +old lady. A grin stole over the fat boy's features +as he said, "I see her a kissin' of him agin!" Joe's +voice of necessity had been so loud that another +party in the garden could not help hearing the +entire conversation. If they could have seen the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +expression of the old lady's face at this time it is +probable that a sudden burst of laughter would +have betrayed them. Fragments of angry sentences +drifted to them through the leaves, such as +"Without my permission!" "At her time of life!" +"Might have waited until I was dead," etc. Then +they heard the heels of the fat boy's foot crunching +the gravel as he retired and left the old lady alone.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tupman would probably have found himself +in considerable trouble if one of his friends, +who had overheard the conversation had not told +Mrs. Wardle that perhaps Joe had dreamed the +entire incident, which did not seem altogether +improbable. She watched Mr. Tupman at supper +that evening, but this gentleman, having been +warned, paid no attention whatever to Miss Rachel, +and the old lady was finally persuaded that it was +all a mistake.</p> + +<p>Finally the visit of Mr. Pickwick and his friends +came to an end, and it was several months before +they again partook of Mr. Wardle's hospitality. +The Pickwickians had arrived at the Inn near Mr. +Wardle's place for dinner before completing the +rest of their journey to Dingley Dell. Mr. Pickwick +had brought with him several barrels of +oysters and some special wine as a gift to his host, +and he stood examining his packages to see that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +they had all arrived when he felt himself gently +pulled by the skirts of his coat. Looking around +he discovered that the individual who used this +means of drawing his attention was no other +than Mr. Wardle's favorite page, the fat +boy.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" said Mr. Pickwick.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the fat boy, and as he said it he +glanced from the wine to the oysters and chuckled +joyously. He was fatter than ever.</p> + +<p>"Well, you look rosy enough my young friend," +said Mr. Pickwick.</p> + +<p>"I have been sitting in front of the fire," replied +the fat boy, who had indeed heated himself to the +color of a new chimney pot in the course of an +hour's nap. "Master sent me over with the cart +to carry your luggage over to the house." Mr. +Pickwick called his man, Sam Weller, to him and +said, "Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put the packages +into the cart and then ride on with him. We +prefer to walk." Having given this direction Mr. +Pickwick and his three friends walked briskly +away, leaving Mr. Weller and the fat boy face to +face for the first time. Sam looked at the fat boy +with great astonishment but without saying a +word, and began to put the things rapidly upon the +cart while Joe stood calmly by and seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +think it a very interesting sort of thing to see Mr. +Weller working by himself.</p> + +<p>"There," said Sam, "everything packed at last. +There they are."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the fat boy in a very satisfied tone, +"there they are."</p> + +<p>"Well, young twenty stone," said Sam. "You're +a nice specimen, you are."</p> + +<p>"Thankee," said the fat boy.</p> + +<p>"You ain't got nothing on your mind as makes +you fret yourself, have you?" inquired Sam.</p> + +<p>"Not as I knows of," replied the boy.</p> + +<p>"I should rather have thought, to look at you, +that you was a laborin' under a disappointed love +affair with some young woman," said Sam. +"Vell, young boa-constrictor," said Sam, "I'm +glad to hear it. Do you ever drink anythin'?"</p> + +<p>"I likes eatin' better," replied the boy.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Sam. "I should ha' 'sposed that, +but I 'spose you were never cold with all them +elastic fixtures?"</p> + +<p>"Was sometimes," replied the boy, "and I +likes a drop of something that's good."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you do, do you," said Sam, "come this +way." Then after a short interruption they got +into the cart.</p> + +<p>"You can drive, can you?" said the fat boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should rather think so," replied Sam.</p> + +<p>"Well then," said the fat boy, putting the reins +in his hands and pointing up a lane, "it's as +straight as you can drive. You can't miss it." +With these words the fat boy laid himself affectionately +down by the side of the provisions and +placing an oyster barrel under his head for a +pillow, fell asleep instantly.</p> + +<p>"Vell," said Sam, "of all the boys ever I set +my eyes on—wake up young dropsy." But as +young dropsy could not be awakened, Sam Weller +set himself down in front of the cart, started the +old horse with a jerk of the rein, and jogged +steadily on toward Manor Farm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> +<h2><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'X.III'">XIII.</ins> </h2> + +<h3>A BRAVE AND HONEST BOY, OLIVER TWIST.</h3> + + +<div class='cap'>LITTLE Oliver Twist was an orphan. He +never saw his mother or his father. He +was born at the workhouse, the home for +paupers, where his poor heart-broken mother had +been taken just a short time before baby Oliver +came; and, the very night he was born, she was so +sick and weak she said: "Let me see my child and +then I will die." The old nurse said: "Nonsense, +my dear, you must not think of dying, you have +something now to live for." The good kind doctor +said she must be very brave and she might get well. +They brought her little baby boy to her, and she +hugged him in her weak arms and she kissed him on +the brow many times and cuddled him up as close +as her feeble arms could hold him; and then she +looked at him long and steadily, and a sweet +smile came over her face and a bright light came +into her eyes, and before the smile could pass +from her lips she died.</div> + +<p>The old nurse wept as she took the little baby +from its dead mother's arms; and the good doctor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +had to wipe the tears from his eyes, it was so +very, very sad.</p> + +<p>After wrapping the baby in a blanket and laying +him in a warm place, the old nurse straightened +out the limbs of the young mother and folded her +hands on her breast; and, spreading a white +sheet over her still form, she called the doctor +to look at her—for the nurse and the doctor were +all who were there. The same sweet smile was +on her face, and the doctor said as he looked upon +her: "Poor, poor girl, she is so beautiful and so +young! What strange fate has brought her to +this poor place? Nurse, take good care of the +baby, for his mother must have been, at one time, +a kind and gentle woman."</p> + +<p>The next day they took the unknown woman +out to the potter's field and buried her; and, for +nine months, the old nurse at the workhouse +took care of the baby; though, it is sad to say, +this old woman, kind-hearted though she was, +was at the same time so fond of gin that she +often took the money, which ought to have +bought milk for the baby, to buy drink for +herself.</p> + +<p>Nobody knew what the young mother's name +was, and so this baby had no name, until, at last, +Mr. Bumble, who was one of the parish officers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +who looked after the paupers, came and named +him <i>Oliver Twist</i>.</p> + +<p>When little Oliver was nine months old they +took him away from the workhouse and carried +him to the "Poor Farm," where there were +twenty-five or thirty other poor children who had +no parents. A woman by the name of Mrs. +Mann had charge of this cottage. The parish +gave her an allowance of enough money to keep +the children in plenty of food and clothing; but +she starved the little ones to keep the money +for herself, so that many of them died and others +came to take their places. But young Oliver +was a tough little fellow, and, while he looked very +pale and thin, he was, otherwise, healthy and +hung on to his life.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mann was also very cruel to the children. +She would scold and beat them and shut them up +in the cellar and treat them meanly in many ways +when no visitors were there. But, when any of +the men who had control or visitors came around, +she would smile and call the children "dear," and +all sorts of pet names. She told them if any of +them should tell on her she would beat them; and, +furthermore, that they should tell visitors that +she was very kind and good to them and that they +loved her very much.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Bumble was a very mean man, too, as we +shall see. They called him the <i>Beadle</i>, which +means he was a sort of sheriff or policeman; and +he was supposed to look after the people at the +workhouse and at the poor farm and to wait on +the directors who had charge of these places. +He had the right to punish the boys if they did +not mind, and they were all afraid of him.</p> + +<p>Oliver remained at the cottage on the poor +farm until he was nine years old, though he was +a pale little fellow and did not look to be over +seven.</p> + +<p>On the morning of his birthday, Mrs. Mann had +given Oliver and two other boys a bad whipping +and put them down in a dark coal-cellar. Presently +she saw Mr. Bumble coming and she told +her servant to take the boys out and wash them +quick, for she did not let Mr. Bumble know she +ever punished them, and was fearful he might hear +them crying in the dark, damp place. Mrs. +Mann talked very nicely to Mr. Bumble and made +him a "toddy" (a glass of strong liquor) and kept +him busy with her flattering and kindness until +she knew the boys were washed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bumble told her Oliver Twist was nine +years old that day, and the Board (which meant +the men in charge) had decided they must take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +him away from the farm and carry him back to the +workhouse. Mrs. Mann pretended to be very +sorry, and she went out and brought Oliver in, +telling him on the way that he must appear very +sorry to leave her, otherwise she would beat him. +So when Oliver was asked if he wanted to go, he +said he was sorry to leave there. This was not a +falsehood, for, miserable as the place was, he +dearly loved his little companions. They were +all the people he knew; and he did feel sad, and +really wept with sorrow as he told them good-by +and was led by Mr. Bumble back to the workhouse, +where he was born and where his mother +died nine years ago that very day.</p> + +<p>When he got back there he found the old nurse +who remembered his mother, and she told him +she was a beautiful sweet woman and how she had +kissed him and held him in her arms when she +died. Night after night little Oliver dreamed +about his beautiful mother, and she seemed +sometimes to stand by his bed and to look down +upon him with the same beautiful eyes and the +same sweet smile of which the nurse told him. +Every time he had the chance he asked questions +about her, but the nurse could not tell him anything +more. She did not even know her name.</p> + +<p>Oliver had been at the workhouse only a very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +short time when Mr. Bumble came in and told +him he must appear before the Board at once. +Now Oliver was puzzled at this. He thought +a board was a piece of flat wood, and he could not +imagine why he was to appear before that. But +he was too much afraid of Mr. Bumble to ask any +questions. This gentleman had treated him +roughly in bringing him to the workhouse; and, +now, when he looked a little puzzled—for his +expressive face always told what was in his +honest little heart—Mr. Bumble gave him a +sharp crack on the head with his cane and another +rap over the back and told him to wake up and +not look so sleepy, and to mind to be polite when +he went before the Board. Oliver could not help +tears coming into his eyes as he was pushed along, +and Mr. Bumble gave him another sharp rap, +telling him to hush, and ushered him into a room +where several stern-looking gentlemen sat at a +long table. One of them, in a white waistcoat, +was particularly hard-looking. "Bow to the +Board," said Mr. Bumble to Oliver. Oliver +looked about for a board, and, seeing none, he +bowed to the table, because it looked more like +a board than anything else. The men laughed, +and the man in the white waistcoat said: "The +boy is a fool. I thought he was." After other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +ugly remarks, they told Oliver he was an orphan +and they had supported him all his life. He ought +to be very thankful. (And he was, when he remembered +how many had been starved to death.) +"Now," they said, "you are nine years old, and +we must put you out to learn a trade." They +told him he should begin the next morning at six +o'clock to pick oakum, and work at that until +they could get him a place.</p> + +<p>Oliver was faithful at his work, in which several +other boys assisted, but oh! so hungry they +got, for they were given but one little bowl of +gruel at a meal—hardly enough for a kitten. So +one day the boys said they must ask for more; +and they "drew straws" to see who should venture +to do so. It fell to Oliver's lot to do it, and the +next meal, when they had emptied their bowls, +Oliver walked up to the man who helped them and +said very politely, "Please, sir, may I not have +some more? I am very hungry." This made +the man so angry that he hit Oliver over the head +with his ladle and called for Mr. Bumble. He +came, and when told that Oliver had "asked for +more," he grabbed him by the collar and took +him before the Board and made the complaint +that he had been very naughty and rebellious, +telling the circumstance in an unfair and untruthful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +way. The Board was angry at Oliver, and the +man in the white waistcoat told them again as +he had said before. "This boy will be hung sometime. +We must get rid of him at once." So +they offered five pounds, or twenty-five dollars +to anyone who would take him.</p> + +<p>The first man who came was a very mean chimney-sweeper, +who had almost killed other boys with +his vile treatment. The Board agreed to let him +have Oliver; but, when they took him before the +magistrates, Oliver fell on his knees and begged +them not to let that man have him, and they +would not. So Oliver was taken back to the workhouse.</p> + +<p>The next man who came was Mr. Sowerberry, +an undertaker. He was a very good man, and +the magistrates let him take Oliver along. But he +had a very cross, stingy wife, and a mean servant-girl +by the name of Charlotte, and a big overbearing +boy by the name of Noah Claypole, whom he had +taken to raise. Oliver thought he would like Mr. +Sowerberry well enough, but his heart fell when +"the Mrs." met him and called him "boy" and a +"measly-looking little pauper," and gave him for +supper the scraps she had put for the dog. But +this was so much better than he got at the workhouse, +he would not complain about the food;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +and he hoped, by faithful work, to win kind treatment.</p> + +<p>They made him sleep by himself in the shop +among the coffins, and he was very much frightened; +but he would rather sleep there than with +the terrible boy, Noah. The first night he +dreamed of his beautiful mother, and thought +again he could see her sitting among those black, +fearful coffins, with the same sweet smile upon +her face. He was awakened the next morning +by Noah, who told him he had to obey him, and +he'd better lookout or he'd wear the life out of +him. Noah kicked and cuffed Oliver several +times, but the poor boy was too much used to that +to resent it, and determined to do his work well.</p> + +<p>Mr. Sowerberry found Oliver so good, sensible, +and polite that he made him his assistant and took +him to all the funerals, and occasionally gave him +a penny. Oliver went into fine houses and saw +people and sights he had never dreamed of before. +Mr. Sowerberry had told him he might some day +be an undertaker himself; and Oliver worked hard +to please his master, though Noah and Mrs. +Sowerberry and Charlotte grew more unkind to +him all the time, because "he was put forward," +they said, "and Noah was kept back." This, of +course, made Noah meaner than ever to Oliver—determined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +to endure it all rather than complain, +and try to win them over after while by being +kind. He could have borne any insult to himself, +but Noah tried the little fellow too far when he +attacked the name of Oliver's mother, and it +brought serious trouble, as we shall see.</p> + +<p>One day, Oliver and Noah had descended into +the kitchen at the usual dinner-hour, when, +Charlotte being called out of the way, there came +a few minutes of time, which Noah Claypole, being +hungry and vicious, considered he could not +possibly devote to a worthier purpose than +aggravating and tantalizing young Oliver +Twist.</p> + +<p>Intent upon this innocent amusement, Noah +put his feet on the tablecloth; and pulled Oliver's +hair; and twitched his ears; and expressed his +opinion that he was a "sneak;" and furthermore +announced his intention of coming to see him +hanged, whenever that desirable event should +take place; and entered upon various other topics +of petty annoyance, like a malicious and ill-conditioned +charity-boy as he was. But, none +of these taunts producing the desired effect of +making Oliver cry, Noah began to talk about his +mother.</p> + +<p>"Work'us," said Noah, "how's your mother?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +Noah had given Oliver this name because he had +come from the workhouse.</p> + +<p>"She's dead," replied Oliver; "don't you say +anything about her to me!"</p> + +<p>Oliver's color rose as he said this; he breathed +quickly; and there was a curious working of the +mouth and nostrils, which Noah thought must +be the immediate precursor of a violent fit of +crying. Under this impression he returned to +the charge.</p> + +<p>"What did she die of, Work'us?" said Noah.</p> + +<p>"Of a broken-heart, some of our old nurses told +me," replied Oliver: more as if he were talking to +himself than answering Noah. "I think I know +what it must be to die of that!"</p> + +<p>"Tol de rol lol lol, right fol lairy, Work'us," +said Noah, as a tear rolled down Oliver's check. +"What's set you a sniveling now?"</p> + +<p>"Not <i>you</i>," replied Oliver, hastily brushing the +tear away. "Don't think it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not me, eh?" sneered Noah.</p> + +<p>"No, not you," replied Oliver, sharply.</p> + +<p>"There, that's enough. Don't say anything +more to me about her; you'd better not!"</p> + +<p>"Better not!" exclaimed Noah. "Well! Better +not! Work'us, don't be impudent. <i>Your</i> mother, +too! She was a nice 'un, she was. Oh, Lor'!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +And here Noah nodded his head expressively and +curled his small red nose.</p> + +<p>"Yer know, Work'us," continued Noah, emboldened +by Oliver's silence, and speaking in a +jeering tone of affected pity. "Yer know, Work'us, +it can't be helped now; and of course yer +couldn't help it then. But yer must know, +Work'us, yer mother was a regular-down bad +'un."</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" inquired Oliver, looking +up very quickly.</p> + +<p>"A regular right-down bad'un, Work'us," replied +Noah, coolly. "And it's a great deal better, +Work'us, that she died when she did, or else she'd +have been hard laboring in the jail, or sent out of +the country, or hung; which is more likely than +either, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Crimson with fury, Oliver started up; overthrew +the chair and table; seized Noah by the +throat; shook him, in the violence of his rage, till +his teeth chattered in his head; and, collecting his +whole force into one heavy blow, felled him to the +ground.</p> + +<p>A minute ago, the boy had looked the quiet, +mild, dejected creature that harsh treatment had +made him. But his spirit was roused at last; +the cruel insult to his dead mother had set his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +blood on fire. His breast heaved; his form was +erect; his eye bright and vivid; his whole person +changed, as he stood glaring over the cowardly +tormentor who now lay crouching at his feet; +and defied him with an energy he had never known +before.</p> + +<p>"He'll murder me!" blubbered Noah. "Charlotte! +missis! Here's the new boy a-murdering +of me! Help! help! Oliver's gone mad! Char—lotte!"</p> + +<p>Noah's shouts were responded to by a loud +scream from Charlotte and a louder from Mrs. +Sowerberry; the former of whom rushed into the +kitchen by a side-door, while the latter paused on +the staircase till she was quite certain that it was +safe to come farther down.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you little wretch!" screamed Charlotte, +seizing Oliver with her utmost force, which was +about equal to that of a moderately strong man +in particularly good training. "Oh, you little +un-grate-ful, mur-de-rous, hor-rid villain!" And +between every syllable Charlotte gave Oliver a +blow with all her might.</p> + +<p>Charlotte's fist was by no means a light one; +and Mrs. Sowerberry plunged into the kitchen and +assisted to hold him with one hand, while she +scratched his face with the other. In this favorable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +position of affairs, Noah rose from the ground +and pommeled him behind.</p> + +<p>When they were all wearied out, and could tear +and beat no longer, they dragged Oliver, struggling +and shouting, but nothing daunted, into the +dust-cellar, and there locked him up. This being +done, Mrs. Sowerberry sunk into a chair and burst +into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Charlotte," said Mrs. Sowerberry. "Oh! +Charlotte, what a mercy we have not all been +murdered in our beds!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! mercy indeed, ma'am," was the reply. +"I only hope this'll teach master not to have any +more of these dreadful creatures, that are born +to be murderers and robbers from their very +cradle. Poor Noah! he was all but killed, ma'am, +when I come in."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" said Mrs. Sowerberry, looking +piteously on the charity-boy.</p> + +<p>"What's to be done!" exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry. +"Your master's not at home; there's not +a man in the house, and he'll kick that door down +in ten minutes." Oliver's vigorous plunges +against the door did seem as if he would break it.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear! I don't know, ma'am," said +Charlotte, "unless we send for the police officers."</p> + +<p>"Or the millingtary," suggested Noah.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, no," said Mrs. Sowerberry: bethinking +herself of Oliver's old friend. "Run to Mr. +Bumble, Noah, and tell him to come here directly, +and not to lose a minute; never mind your cap! +Make haste!"</p> + +<p>Noah set off with all his might, and paused +not once for breath until he reached the workhouse +gate.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter with the boy!" said +the people as Noah rushed up.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bumble! Mr. Bumble!" cried Noah, +with well-pretended alarm. "Oh, Mr. Bumble, +sir! Oliver, sir—Oliver has—"</p> + +<p>"What? What?" interposed Mr. Bumble, with +a gleam of pleasure in his steel-like eyes. "Not +run away; he hasn't run away, has he, Noah?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, no! Not run away, sir, but he's +turned wicious," replied Noah. "He tried to +murder me, sir; and then he tried to murder +Charlotte; and then missis. Oh! what dreadful +pain it is! Such agony, please, sir!" And here +Noah writhed and twisted his body into an extensive +variety of eel-like positions, by which the +gentleman's notice was very soon attracted; +for he had not walked three paces, when he turned +angrily round and inquired what that young cur +was howling for.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's a poor boy from the free-school, sir," +replied Mr. Bumble, "who has been nearly murdered—all +but murdered, sir—by young Twist."</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" exclaimed the gentleman in the +white waistcoat, stopping short. "I knew it! +I felt from the very first that that terrible young +savage would come to be hung!"</p> + +<p>"He has likewise attempted, sir, to murder the +female servant," said Mr. Bumble, with a face of +ashy paleness.</p> + +<p>"And his missis," interposed Noah.</p> + +<p>"And his master, too. I think you said, Noah?" +added Mr. Bumble.</p> + +<p>"No! he's out, or he would have murdered +him," replied Noah. "He said he wanted +to."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Said he wanted to, did he, my boy?" +inquired the gentleman in the white waistcoat.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. And please, sir," replied Noah, +"missis wants to know whether Mr. Bumble can +spare time to step up there, directly, and flog +him—'cause master's out."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, my boy; certainly," said the gentleman +in the white waistcoat, smiling benignly and +patting Noah's head, which was about three inches +higher than his own. "You're a good boy—a +very good boy. Here's a penny for you. Bumble<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +just step up to Sowerberry's with your cane, +and see what's to be done. Don't spare him, +Bumble."</p> + +<p>"No, I will not, sir," replied the beadle as he +hurried away.</p> + +<p>Meantime, Oliver continued to kick, with undiminished +vigor, at the cellar-door. The accounts +of his ferocity, as related by Mrs. Sowerberry +and Charlotte, were of so startling a nature +that Mr. Bumble judged it prudent to parley +before opening the door. With this view he gave +a kick at the outside, by way of prelude; and +then, putting his mouth to the keyhole, said, in a +deep and impressive tone:</p> + +<p>"Oliver!"</p> + +<p>"Come, you let me out!" replied Oliver, from +the inside.</p> + +<p>"Do you know this here voice, Oliver?" said +Mr. Bumble.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you afraid of it, sir? Ain't you a-trembling +while I speak, sir?" said Mr. Bumble.</p> + +<p>"No!" replied Oliver, boldly.</p> + +<p>An answer so different from the one he had +expected to hear, and was in the habit of receiving, +staggered Mr. Bumble not a little.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know, Mr. Bumble, he must be mad,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +said Mrs. Sowerberry. "No boy in half his senses +could venture to speak so to you."</p> + +<p>"It's not madness, ma'am," replied Mr. Bumble, +after a few moments of deep meditation. +"It's meat."</p> + +<p>"What?" exclaimed Mrs. Sowerberry.</p> + +<p>"Meat, ma'am, meat," replied Bumble, with +stern emphasis. "You've overfed him, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear!" ejaculated Mrs. Sowerberry, +piously raising her eyes to the kitchen ceiling; +"this comes of being liberal!"</p> + +<p>The liberality of Mrs. Sowerberry to Oliver had +consisted in a bestowal upon him of all the dirty +odds and ends which nobody else would eat.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mr. Bumble, when the lady brought +her eyes down to earth again; "the only thing +that can be done now, that I know of, is to leave +him in the cellar for a day or so, till he's a little +starved down; and then to take him out, and +keep him on gruel all through his apprenticeship. +He comes of a bad family. Excitable natures, +Mrs. Sowerberry! Both the nurse and doctor +said that that mother of his made her way +here, against difficulties and pain that would have +killed any well-disposed woman, weeks before."</p> + +<p>At this point of Mr. Bumble's discourse, Oliver, +just hearing enough to know that some new allusion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +was being made to his mother, recommenced +kicking, with a violence that rendered every +other sound inaudible. Sowerberry returned at +this moment. Oliver's offense having been explained +to him, with such exaggerations as the +ladies thought best calculated to rouse his ire, +he unlocked the cellar-door in a twinkling, and +dragged his rebellious apprentice out by the collar.</p> + +<p>Oliver's clothes had been torn in the beating +he had received; his face was bruised and scratched; +and his hair scattered over his forehead. +The angry flush had not disappeared, however; +and when he was pulled out of his prison, he +scowled boldly on Noah, and looked quite undismayed.</p> + +<p>"Now, you are a nice young fellow, ain't you?" +said Sowerberry, giving Oliver a shake and a box +on the ear.</p> + +<p>"He called my mother names," replied Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Well, and what if he did, you little ungrateful +wretch?" said Mrs. Sowerberry. "She deserved +what he said, and worse."</p> + +<p>"She didn't," said Oliver.</p> + +<p>"She did," said Mrs. Sowerberry.</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!" said Oliver.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sowerberry burst into a flood of tears.</p> + +<p>This flood of tears left Mr. Sowerberry nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +else to do; so he at once gave Oliver a drubbing, +which satisfied even Mrs. Sowerberry herself. +For the rest of the day he was shut up in the backs +kitchen, in company with a pump and a slice of +bread; and, at night, Mrs. Sowerberry, after +making various remarks outside the door, by no +means kind to the memory of his mother, looked +into the room, and, amidst the jeers and pointings +of Noah and Charlotte, ordered him up-stairs to +his dismal bed.</p> + +<p>It was not until he was left alone in the silence +and stillness of the gloomy workshop of the undertaker +that Oliver gave way to the feelings which +the day's treatment may be supposed likely to +have awakened in a mere child. He had listened +to their taunts with a look of contempt; he had +borne the lash without a cry; for he felt that +pride swelling in his heart which would have kept +down a shriek to the last, though they had +roasted him alive. But now, when there was +none to see or hear him, he fell upon his knees on +the floor; and, hiding his face in his hands, wept +bitter tears and prayed in his bleeding heart that +God would help him to get away from these cruel +people. There, upon his knees, Oliver determined +to run away, and, rising, tied up a few clothes in a +handkerchief and went to bed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> + +<p>With the first ray of light that struggled through +the crevices in the shutters, Oliver arose and +unbarred the door. One timid look around—one +moment's pause of hesitation—he had closed +it behind him, and was in the open street.</p> + +<p>He looked to the right and to the left, uncertain +which way to fly. He remembered to have seen +the wagons, as they went out, toiling up the hill. +He took the same route; and arriving at a foot-path +across the fields, which he knew, after some +distance, led out again into the road, struck into it, +and walked quickly on.</p> + +<p>Along this same foot-path, Oliver well remembered +he had trotted beside Mr. Bumble when he +first carried him to the workhouse from the farm. +His heart beat quickly when he bethought himself +of this, and he half resolved to turn back. +He had come a long way though, and should lose +a great deal of time by doing so. Besides, it was +so early that there was very little fear of his being +seen; so he walked on.</p> + +<p>He reached the house. There was no appearance +of the people inside stirring at that early +hour. Oliver stopped, and peeped into the garden. +A child was weeding one of the little beds; +as he stopped, he raised his pale face and disclosed +the features of one of his former companions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +Oliver felt glad to see him before he went; +for, though younger than himself, he had been his +little friend and playmate. They had been +beaten, and starved, and shut up together many +and many a time.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Dick!" said Oliver, as the boy ran to the +gate, and thrust his thin arm between the rails to +greet him. "Is anyone up?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody but me," replied the child.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't say you saw me, Dick," said +Oliver. "I am running away. They beat and +ill-use me, Dick; and I am going to seek my fortune +some long way off. I don't know where. +How pale you are!"</p> + +<p>"I heard the doctor tell them I was dying," +replied the child, with a faint smile. "I am very +glad to see you, dear; but don't stop, don't +stop!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I will to say good-by to you," +replied Oliver. "I shall see you again, Dick. I +know I shall. You will be well and happy!"</p> + +<p>"I hope so," replied the child. "After I am +dead, but not before. I know the doctor must be +right, Oliver, because I dream so much of +heaven and angels, and kind faces that I never see +when I am awake. Kiss me," said the child, +climbing up the low gate, and flinging his little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +arms around Oliver's neck: "Good-by, dear! +God bless you!"</p> + +<p>The blessing was from a young child's lips, but +it was the first that Oliver had ever heard invoked +upon his head; and through the struggles and +sufferings, and troubles and changes of his after-life, +he never once forgot it.</p> + +<p>Oliver soon got into the high-road. It was +eight o'clock now. Though he was nearly five +miles away from the town, he ran, and hid +behind the hedges, by turns, till noon, fearing +that he might be pursued and overtaken. +Then he sat down to rest by the side of the mile-stone.</p> + +<p>The stone by which he was seated had a sign +on it which said that it was just seventy miles +from that spot to London. The name awakened +a new train of ideas in the boy's mind, London!—that +great large place!—nobody—not even Mr. +Bumble—could ever find him there! He had +often heard the old men in the workhouse, too, say +that no lad of spirit need want in London; and +that there were ways of living in that vast city +which those who had been bred in the country +parts had no idea of. It was the very place for +a homeless boy, who must die in the streets unless +some-one helped him. As these things passed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +through his thoughts, he jumped upon his feet and +again walked forward.</p> + +<p>He had made the distance between himself and +London less by full four miles more, before he +thought how much he must undergo ere he could +hope to reach the place toward which he was going. +As this consideration forced itself upon him, +he slackened his pace a little, and meditated upon +his means of getting there. He had a crust of +bread, a coarse shirt, and two pairs of stockings in +his bundle. He had a penny too—a gift of +Sowerberry's after some funeral in which he had +acquitted himself more than ordinarily well—in his +pocket. "A clean shirt," thought Oliver, "is a very +comfortable thing; and so are two pairs of darned +stockings; and so is a penny; but they are small +helps to a sixty-five miles' walk in winter-time."</p> + +<p>Thus day after day the weary but plucky little +boy walked on, and early on the seventh morning +after he had left his native place, Oliver limped +slowly into the little town of Barnet, and sat down +on a doorstep to rest. Some few stopped to gaze +at Oliver for a moment or two, or turned round to +stare at him as they hurried by; but none helped +him, or troubled themselves to inquire how he +came there. He had no heart to beg. And there +he sat for some time when he was roused by observing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +that a boy was watching him most earnestly +from the opposite side of the way. He took little +heed of this at first; but the boy remained in the +same attitude so long that Oliver raised his head +and returned his steady look. Upon this, the boy +crossed over, and, walking close up to Oliver, said:</p> + +<p>"Hullo, my covey! What's the row?"</p> + +<p>The boy who had spoken to the young wayfarer +was about his own age: but one of the +queerest-looking boys that Oliver had ever seen. +He was a snub-nosed, flat-browed, common-faced +boy enough; and as dirty a youth as one +would wish to see; but he had about him all the +airs and manners of a man. He was short for his +age; with rather bow-legs, and little, sharp, ugly +eyes. His hat was stuck on the top of his head +so lightly that it threatened to fall off every +moment. He wore a man's coat, which reached +nearly to his heels.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, my covey! What's the row?" said the +stranger.</p> + +<p>"I am very hungry and tired," replied Oliver: +the tears standing in his eyes as he spoke. "I +have walked a long way. I have been walking +these seven days."</p> + +<p>"Walking for sivin days!" said the young gentleman. +"Oh, I see. Beak's order, eh? But," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +added, noticing Oliver's look of surprise, "I suppose +you don't know what a beak is, my flash com-pan-i-on."</p> + +<p>Oliver mildly replied that he had always heard +a bird's mouth described by the word beak.</p> + +<p>"My eyes, how green!" exclaimed the young +gentleman. "Why, a beak's a madgst'rate; and +when you walk by a beak's order, it's not straight +forerd.</p> + +<p>"But come," said the young gentleman; "you +want grub, and you shall have it. Up with you +on your pins. There! Now then!"</p> + +<p>Assisting Oliver to rise, the young gentleman +took him to a near by grocery store, where he +bought a supply of ready-dressed ham and a half-quartern +loaf, or, as he himself expressed it, "a +fourpenny bran!" Taking the bread under his +arm, the young gentleman turned into a small +public-house, and led the way to a tap-room in the +rear of the premises. Here a pot of beer was +brought in by direction of the mysterious youth; +and Oliver, falling to at his new friend's bidding, +made a long and hearty meal, during which the +strange boy eyed him from time to time with great +attention.</p> + +<p>"Going to London?" said the strange boy, when +Oliver had at length concluded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Got any lodgings?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Money?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>The strange boy whistled, and put his arms into +his pockets as far as the big coat-sleeves would let +them go.</p> + +<p>"Do you live in London?" inquired Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do, when I'm at home," replied the boy. +"I suppose you want some place to sleep in to-night, +don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I do, indeed," answered Oliver. "I have not +slept under a roof since I left the country."</p> + +<p>"Don't fret your eyelids on that score," said the +young gentleman. "I've got to be in London +to-night; and I know a 'spectable old genelman +as lives there, wot'll give you lodgings for nothink, +and never ask for the change—that is, if any +genelman he knows interduces you. And don't +he know me? Oh, no! not in the least! By no +means. Certainly not!" which was his queer way +of saying he and the old gentleman were good +friends.</p> + +<p>This unexpected offer of shelter was too tempting +to be resisted, especially as it was immediately +followed up by the assurance that the old gentleman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +referred to would doubtless provide Oliver +with a comfortable place, without loss of time. +This led to a more friendly and free talk, from +which Oliver learned that his friend's name was +Jack Dawkins—among his intimate friends better +known as the "Artful Dodger"—and that he was a +peculiar pet of the elderly gentleman before mentioned.</p> + +<p>As John Dawkins objected to their entering +London before nightfall, it was nearly eleven +o'clock when they reached the small city street, +along which the Dodger scudded at a rapid pace, +directing Oliver to follow close at his heels.</p> + +<p>Although Oliver had enough to occupy his +attention in keeping sight of his leader, he could +not help bestowing a few hasty glances on either +side of the way as he passed along. A dirtier or +more wretched place he had never seen.</p> + +<p>Oliver was just considering whether he hadn't +better run away, when they reached the bottom of +the hill. His conductor, catching him by the +arm, pushed open the door of a house, and, drawing +him into the passage, closed it behind them.</p> + +<p>"Now, then!" cried a voice from below, in reply +to a whistle from the Dodger.</p> + +<p>"Plummy and slam!" was the reply.</p> + +<p>This seemed to be some watchword or signal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +that all was right; for the light of a feeble candle +gleamed on the wall at the remote end of the passage, +and a man's face peeped out from where a +balustrade of the old kitchen staircase had been +broken away.</p> + +<p>"There's two <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'on'">of</ins> you," said the man, thrusting +the candle farther out, and shading his eyes with +his hand. "Who's the t'other one?"</p> + +<p>"A new pal," replied Jack Dawkins, pulling +Oliver forward.</p> + +<p>"Where did he come from?"</p> + +<p>"Greenland. Is Fagin up-stairs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he's a sortin' the wipes. Up with you!" +The candle was drawn back, and the face disappeared.</p> + +<p>Oliver, groping his way with one hand, and +having the other firmly grasped by his companion, +ascended with much difficulty the dark and +broken stairs; which his conductor mounted with +an ease and expedition that showed he was well +acquainted with them. He threw open the door +of a back-room, and drew Oliver in after him.</p> + +<p>The walls and ceiling of the room were perfectly +black with age and dirt. There was a deal table +before the fire, upon which were a candle stuck +in a ginger-beer bottle, two or three pewter-pots, +a loaf and butter, and a plate. Seated round the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +table were four or five boys, none older than the +Dodger, smoking clay pipes and drinking spirits, +with the air of middle-aged men. These all +crowded about their friend as he whispered a few +words to the Jewish proprietor; and then turned +round and grinned at Oliver. So did the Jew +himself, toasting-fork in hand.</p> + +<p>"This is him, Fagin," said Jack Dawkins; "my +friend, Oliver Twist."</p> + +<p>The Jew grinned, and, making a low bow to +Oliver, took him by the hand, and hoped he should +have the honor of a closer acquaintance. Upon +this, the young gentlemen with the pipes came +round him and shook both his hands very hard.</p> + +<p>"We are very glad to see you. Oliver, very," +said the Jew. "Dodger, take off the sausages, and +draw a tub near the fire for Oliver. Ah! you're +a-staring at the pocket-handkerchiefs! eh, my +dear! There are a good many of 'em, ain't there? +We've just looked 'em out, ready for the wash: +that's all, Oliver—that's all. Ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>The latter part of this speech was hailed by a +noisy shout from all the pupils of the merry old +gentleman; in the midst of which they went to +supper.</p> + +<p>Oliver ate his share, and the Jew then mixed +him a glass of hot gin and water, telling him he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +must drink it off directly, because another gentleman +wanted the tumbler. Oliver did as he was +desired. Immediately afterward he felt himself +gently lifted on to one of the sacks; and then he +sunk into a deep sleep.</p> + +<p>It was late next morning when Oliver awoke +from a sound, long sleep. There was no other +person in the room but the old Jew, who was boiling +some coffee in a saucepan for breakfast, and +whistling softly to himself as he stirred it round +and round with an iron spoon. He would stop +every now and then to listen when there was the +least noise below; and when he had satisfied himself, +he would go on, whistling and stirring again, +as before.</p> + +<p>Although Oliver had roused himself from sleep, +he was not thoroughly awake.</p> + +<p>Oliver was precisely in this condition. He saw +the Jew with his half-closed eyes; heard his low +whistling; and recognized the sound of the spoon +grating against the saucepan's sides.</p> + +<p>When the coffee was done, the Jew drew the +saucepan to the hob, looked at Oliver, and called +him by his name. He did not answer, and was +to all appearance asleep.</p> + +<p>After satisfying himself upon this head, the Jew +stepped gently to the door, which he fastened.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +He then drew forth, as it seemed to Oliver, from +some trap in the floor, a small box, which he placed +carefully on the table. His eyes glistened as he +raised the lid and looked in. Dragging an old +chair to the table, he sat down; and took from it a +magnificent gold watch, sparkling with jewels.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" said the Jew, shrugging up his shoulders +and distorting every feature with a hideous grin. +"Clever dogs! Clever dogs! Stanch to the last! +Never told the old parson where they were. +Never peached upon old Fagin! And why should +they? It wouldn't have loosened the knot, or +kept the drop up, a minute longer. No, no, no! +Fine fellows! Fine fellows!"</p> + +<p>With these and other muttered remarks of the +like nature, the Jew once more laid the watch in its +place of safety. At least half a dozen more were +severally drawn forth from the same box, and +looked at with equal pleasure; besides rings, bracelets, +and other articles of jewelry, of such magnificent +materials, and costly workmanship, that +Oliver had no idea even of their names.</p> + +<p>As the Jew looked up, his bright dark eyes, +which had been staring at the jewelry, fell on +Oliver's face; the boy's eyes were fixed on his +in mute curiosity; and although the recognition +was only for an instant, it was enough to show the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +old man that he had been observed. He closed +the lid of the box with a loud crash; and, laying +his hand on a bread-knife which was on the table, +started furiously up.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said the Jew. "What do you +watch me for? Why are you awake? What +have you seen? Speak out boy! Quick—quick! +for your life!"</p> + +<p>"I wasn't able to sleep any longer, sir," replied +Oliver, meekly. "I am very sorry if I have disturbed +you, sir."</p> + +<p>"You were not awake an hour ago?" said the +Jew, scowling fiercely.</p> + +<p>"No! No, indeed!" replied Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?" cried the Jew, with a still +fiercer look than before, and a threatening attitude.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I was not, sir," replied Oliver, +earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Tush, tush, my dear!" said the Jew, abruptly +resuming his old manner, and playing with the +knife a little, before he laid it down; to make +Oliver think that he had caught it up in mere +sport. "Of course I know that, my dear. I only +tried to frighten you. You're a brave boy. Ha! +ha! you're a brave boy, Oliver!" The Jew +rubbed his hands with a chuckle, but glanced +uneasily at the box, notwithstanding.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you see any of these pretty things, my +dear?" said the Jew, laying his hand upon it after +a short pause.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," replied Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the Jew, turning rather pale. "They—they're +mine, Oliver: my little property. All +I have to live upon in my old age. The folks call +me a miser, my dear. Only a miser; that's +all."</p> + +<p>Oliver thought the old gentleman must be a +decided miser to live in such a dirty place, with so +many watches; but, thinking that perhaps his +fondness for the Dodger and the other boys cost +him a good deal of money, he only looked kindly +at the Jew, and asked if he might get up.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, my dear, certainly," replied the old +gentleman. "There's a pitcher of water in the +corner by the door. Bring it here, and I'll give +you a basin to wash in, my dear."</p> + +<p>Oliver got up, walked across the room, and +stooped for an instant to raise the pitcher. When +he turned his head the box was gone.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely washed himself, and made +everything tidy by emptying the basin out of the +window, agreeably to the Jew's directions, when +the Dodger returned, accompanied by a very +sprightly young friend, whom Oliver had seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +smoking on the previous night, and who was now +formally introduced to him as Charley Bates. +The four sat down to breakfast on the coffee and +some hot rolls and ham which the Dodger had +brought home in the crown of his hat.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Jew, glancing slyly at Oliver, +and addressing himself to the Dodger, "I hope +you've been at work this morning, my dears?"</p> + +<p>"Hard," replied the Dodger.</p> + +<p>"As nails," added Charley Bates.</p> + +<p>"Good boys, good boys!" said the Jew. "What +have <i>you</i>, Dodger?"</p> + +<p>"A couple of pocket-books," replied that young +gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Lined?" inquired the Jew, with eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Pretty well," replied the Dodger, producing +two pocket-books.</p> + +<p>"Not so heavy as they might be," said the Jew, +after looking at the insides carefully; "but very +neat and nicely made. A good workman, ain't he, +Oliver?"</p> + +<p>"Very, indeed, sir," said Oliver. At which Mr. +Charles Bates laughed uproariously, very much +to the amazement of Oliver, who saw nothing to +laugh at in anything that had passed.</p> + +<p>"And what have you got, my dear?" said Fagin +to Charley Bates.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wipes," replied Master Bates; at the same +time producing four pocket-handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the Jew, inspecting them closely; +"they're very good ones, very. You haven't +marked them well, though, Charley; so the marks +shall be picked out with a needle, and we'll teach +Oliver how to do it. Shall us, Oliver, eh? Ha! +ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir," said Oliver.</p> + +<p>"You'd like to be able to make pocket-handkerchiefs +as easy as Charley Bates, wouldn't you, +my dear?" said the Jew.</p> + +<p>"Very much, indeed, if you'll teach me, sir," +replied Oliver.</p> + +<p>Master Bates burst into another laugh.</p> + +<p>"He is so jolly green!" said Charley when he +recovered, as an apology to the company for his +impolite behavior.</p> + +<p>The Dodger said nothing, but he smoothed +Oliver's hair over his eyes, and said he'd know +better by-and-by.</p> + +<p>When the breakfast was cleared away, the +merry old gentleman and the two boys played at a +very curious and uncommon game, which was +performed in this way: The merry old gentleman, +placing a snuff-box in one pocket of his trousers, +a note-case in the other, and a watch in his waistcoat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +pocket, with a guard-chain round his neck, +and sticking a mock-diamond pin in his shirt, +buttoned his coat tight around him, and putting +his spectacle-case and handkerchief in his pockets, +trotted up and down the room with a stick, in +imitation of the manner in which old gentlemen +walk about the streets any hour in the day.</p> + +<p>Now during all this time the two boys followed +him closely about, getting out of his sight, so +nimbly, every time he turned round that it was +impossible to follow their motions. At last the +Dodger trod upon his toes or ran upon his boot +accidentally, while Charley Bates stumbled up +against him behind; and in that one moment they +took from him, with the most extraordinary rapidity, +snuff-box, note-case, watch-guard, chain, +shirt-pin, pocket handkerchief, even the spectacle-case. +If the old gentleman felt a hand in any one +of his pockets, he cried out where it was, and then +the game began all over again.</p> + +<p>When this game had been played a great many +times, Charley Bates expressed his opinion that +it was time to pad the hoof. This, it occurred to +Oliver, must be French for going out; for, directly +afterward, the Dodger and Charley went away +together, having been kindly furnished by the +amiable old Jew with money to spend.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, my dear," said Fagin. "That's a +pleasant life, isn't it? They have gone out for the +day."</p> + +<p>"Have they done work, sir?" inquired Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Jew; "that is, unless they +should unexpectedly come across any when they +are out; and they won't neglect it, if they do, my +dear, depend upon it. Make 'em your models, +my dear. Make 'em your models," tapping the +fire-shovel on the hearth to add force to his words; +"do everything they bid you, and take their +advice in all matters—especially the Dodger's +my dear. He'll be a great man himself, and will +make you one too, if you take pattern by him. +Is my handkerchief hanging out of my pocket, my +dear?" said the Jew, stopping short.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Oliver.</p> + +<p>"See if you can take it out, without my feeling +it, as you saw them do when we were at play this +morning."</p> + +<p>Oliver held up the bottom of the pocket with +one hand, as he had seen the Dodger hold it, and +drew the handkerchief lightly out with the other.</p> + +<p>"Is it gone?" cried the Jew.</p> + +<p>"Here it is, sir," said Oliver, showing it in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"You're a clever boy, my dear," said the playful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +old gentleman, patting Oliver on the head +approvingly. "I never saw a sharper lad. Here's +a shilling for you. If you go on in this way, you'll +be the greatest man of the time. And now come +here, and I'll show you how to take the marks out +of the handkerchief."</p> + +<p>Oliver wondered what picking the old gentleman's +pocket in play had to do with his chances +of being a great man. But, thinking that the +Jew, being so much older must know best, he +followed him quietly to the table, and was soon +deeply at work in his new study.</p> + +<p>For many days Oliver remained in the Jew's +room, picking the marks out of the pocket-handkerchiefs +(of which a great number were brought +home), and sometimes taking part in the game +already described, which the two boys and the +Jew played, regularly, every morning.</p> + +<p>At length, one morning, Oliver obtained the +permission to go out with the boys. There had +been no handkerchiefs to work upon for two or +three days, and the dinners had been rather +meager. Perhaps these were reasons for the old +gentleman giving his assent; but, whether they +were or no, he told Oliver he might go, and placed +him under the joint care of Charley Bates and his +friend, the Dodger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> + +<p>The three boys started out; the Dodger with his +coat-sleeves tucked up and his hat cocked, as +usual; Master Bates sauntering along with his +hands in his pockets; and Oliver between them, +wondering where they were going, and what they +would teach him to make first.</p> + +<p>They were just coming from a narrow court +not far from an open square, which is yet called +"The Green," when the Dodger made a sudden +stop, and, laying his finger on his lip, drew his +companions back again, with the greatest caution.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" demanded Oliver.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" replied the Dodger. "Do you see that +old cove at the book-stall?"</p> + +<p>"The old gentleman over the way?" said Oliver. +"Yes, I see him."</p> + +<p>"He'll do," said the Dodger.</p> + +<p>"A prime plant," observed Master Charley +Bates.</p> + +<p>Oliver looked from one to the other with the +greatest surprise, but he was not permitted to +make any inquiries; for the two boys walked +stealthily across the road and slunk close behind +the old gentleman. Oliver walked a few paces +after them, and, not knowing whether to advance +or retire, stood looking on in silent amazement.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman was a very respectable-looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +personage, with a powdered head and gold +spectacles, as he stood reading a book; and what +was Oliver's horror and alarm as he stood a few +paces off, looking on with his eyelids as wide open +as they would possibly go, to see the Dodger +plunge his hand into the old gentleman's pocket +and draw from thence a handkerchief! To see +him hand the same to Charley Bates; and finally +to behold them both running away round the +corner.</p> + +<p>In an instant the whole mystery of the handkerchiefs, +and the watches, and the jewels, and the +Jew, rushed upon the boy's mind. He stood, for +a moment, with the blood so tingling through all +his veins from terror that he felt as if he were in a +burning fire; then, confused and frightened, he +took to his heels, and, not knowing what he did, +made off as fast as he could lay his feet to the +ground.</p> + +<p>This was all done in a minute's space. In the +very instant when Oliver began to run, the old +gentleman, putting his hand to his pocket, and +missing his handkerchief, turned sharp round. +Seeing the boy scudding away at such a rapid +pace, he very naturally concluded him to be the +thief; and, shouting "Stop thief!" with all his +might, made off after him, book in hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the old gentleman was not the only person +who raised the hue-and-cry. The Dodger and +Master Bates, unwilling to attract public attention +by running down the open street, had merely +retired into the very first doorway round the corner. +They no sooner heard the cry, and saw +Oliver running, than, guessing exactly how the +matter stood, they issued forth with great quickness; +and shouting "Stop thief!" too, joined in the +pursuit like good citizens.</p> + +<p>Away they ran, pell-mell, helter-skelter, slap-dash; +tearing, yelling, screaming, knocking down +the passengers as they turn the corners, rousing up +the dogs, and astonishing the fowls; and making +streets, squares, and courts re-echo with the +sound.</p> + +<p>At last a burly fellow struck Oliver a terrible +blow and he went down upon the pavement; +and the crowd eagerly gathered round him, each +newcomer jostling and struggling with the others +to catch a glimpse. "Stand aside!" "Give him +a little air!" "Nonsense! he don't deserve it!" +"Where's the gentleman?" "Here he is, coming +down the street." "Make room there for the +gentleman!" "Is this the boy, sir?"</p> + +<p>Oliver lay covered with mud and dust, and +bleeding from the mouth, looking wildly round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +upon the heap of faces that surrounded him, when +the old gentleman was officiously dragged and +pushed into the circle by the foremost of the pursuers.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the gentleman, "I am afraid it is +the boy."</p> + +<p>"Afraid!" murmured the crowd. "That's a +good 'un!"</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" said the gentleman, "he has hurt +himself."</p> + +<p>"I did that, sir," said a great lubberly fellow, +stepping forward; "and preciously I cut my +knuckle agin his mouth. I stopped him, +sir."</p> + +<p>The fellow touched his hat with a grin, expecting +something for his pains; but the old gentleman, +eyeing him with an expression of dislike, +looked anxiously round, as if he contemplated +running away himself; which it is very possible +he might have attempted to do, and thus have +afforded another chase, had not a police officer +(who is generally the last person to arrive in such +cases) at that moment made his way through the +crowd, and seized Oliver by the collar.</p> + +<p>"Come, get up," said the man, roughly.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't me, indeed, sir. Indeed, indeed, it +was two other boys," said Oliver, clasping his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +hands passionately and looking round. "They are +here somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, they ain't," said the officer. He meant +this to be ironical, but it was true besides; for the +Dodger and Charley Bates had filed off down the +first convenient court they came to. "Come, get +up!"</p> + +<p>"Don't hurt him," said the old gentleman, +compassionately.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I won't hurt him," replied the officer, +tearing his jacket half off his back, in proof thereof. +"Come, I know you; it won't do. Will you stand +upon your legs, you young devil?"</p> + +<p>Oliver, who could hardly stand, made a shift to +raise himself on his feet, and was at once lugged +along the streets by the jacket-collar at a rapid +pace. The gentleman walked on with them by the +officer's side.</p> + +<p>At last they came to a place called Mutton Hill. +Here he was led beneath a low archway, and up a +dirty court, where they saw a stout man with a +bunch of whiskers on his face and a bunch of keys +in his hand.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter now?" said the man carelessly.</p> + +<p>"A young fogle-hunter," replied the officer who +had Oliver in charge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Are you the party that's been robbed, sir?" +inquired the man with the keys.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," replied the old gentleman; "but +I am not sure that this boy actually took the +handkerchief. I would rather not press the case."</p> + +<p>"Must go before the magistrate now, sir," replied +the man. "His worship will be disengaged in half +a minute. Now, young gallows!"</p> + +<p>This was an invitation for Oliver to enter +through a door which he unlocked as he spoke, +and which led into a stone cell. Here he was +searched, and, nothing being found upon him, +locked up.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman looked almost as unhappy as +Oliver when the key grated in the lock.</p> + +<p>At last this gentleman, Mr. Brownlow, was +summoned before the magistrate—a very mean +man, whose name was Fang. Oliver was brought +in, and the magistrate, after using very abusive +language to Mr. Brownlow, had him sworn, but +would not let him tell his story. He flew into a +rage and told the policeman to tell what happened.</p> + +<p>The policeman, with becoming humility, related +how he had taken the boy; how he had searched +Oliver, and found nothing on his person; and how +that was all he knew about it.</p> + +<p>"Are there any witnesses?" inquired Mr. Fang.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> + +<p>"None, your worship," replied the policeman.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fang sat silent for some minutes, and then, +turning round to Mr. Brownlow, said in a towering +passion:</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to state what your complaint +against this boy is, man, or do you not? You have +been sworn. Now, if you stand there, refusing +to give evidence, I'll punish you for disrespect to +the bench."</p> + +<p>With many interruptions, and repeated insults, +Mr. Brownlow contrived to state his case; observing +that, in the surprise of the moment, he had run +after the boy because he saw him running away.</p> + +<p>"He has been hurt already," said the old gentleman, +in conclusion. "And I fear," he added, +with great energy, looking toward the bar, "I +really fear that he is ill."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I dare say!" said Mr. Fang, with a +sneer. "Come, none of your tricks here, you +young vagabond; they won't do. What's your +name?"</p> + +<p>Oliver tried to reply, but his tongue failed him. +He was deadly pale; and the whole place seemed +turning round and round.</p> + +<p>"What's your name, you hardened scoundrel?" +demanded Mr. Fang.</p> + +<p>At this point of the inquiry, Oliver raised his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +head, and, looking round with imploring eyes, +asked feebly for a drink of water.</p> + +<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" said Fang; "don't try to +make a fool of me."</p> + +<p>"I think he really is ill, your worship," said the +officer.</p> + +<p>"I know better," said Mr. Fang.</p> + +<p>"Take care of him, officer," said the old gentleman, +raising his hands instinctively; "he'll fall +down."</p> + +<p>"Stand away, officer," cried Fang; "let him, if +he likes."</p> + +<p>Oliver availed himself of the kind permission, +and fell to the floor in a fainting fit. The men in +the office looked at each other, but no one dared to +stir.</p> + +<p>"I knew he was shamming," said Fang, as if +this were enough proof of the fact. "Let him lie +there; he'll soon be tired of that."</p> + +<p>"How do you propose to deal with the case, sir?" +inquired the clerk in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Summarily," replied Mr. Fang. "He stands +committed for three months—hard labor, of +course. Clear the office."</p> + +<p>The door was opened for this purpose, and a +couple of men were preparing to carry the insensible +boy to his cell, when an elderly man of decent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +but poor appearance, clad in an old suit of black, +rushed in.</p> + +<p>"Stop! stop! Don't take him away! For +heaven's sake stop a moment!" cried the newcomer, +breathless with haste.</p> + +<p>"What is this? Who is this? Turn this man +out. Clear the office," cried Mr. Fang.</p> + +<p>"I <i>will</i> speak," cried the man; "I will not be +turned out. I saw it all. I keep the book-stall. +I demand to be sworn. I will not be put down. +Mr. Fang, you must hear me. You must not +refuse, sir."</p> + +<p>The man was right. His manner was determined; +and the matter was growing rather too +serious to be hushed up.</p> + +<p>"Swear the man," growled Mr. Fang, with a +very ill grace. "Now, man, what have you to +say?"</p> + +<p>"This," said the man: "I saw three boys—two +two others and the prisoner here—loitering on the +opposite side of the way, when this gentleman +was reading. The robbery was committed by +another boy. I saw it done; and I saw this boy +was perfectly amazed and stupefied by it."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you come here before?" said Fang, +after a pause.</p> + +<p>"I hadn't a soul to mind the shop," replied the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +man. "Everybody who could have helped me +had joined in the pursuit. I could get nobody +till five minutes ago; and I have run here all the +way to speak the truth."</p> + +<p>"The boy is discharged. Clear the office!" +shouted the angry magistrate.</p> + +<p>The command was obeyed; and as Oliver was +taken out he fainted away again in the yard, and +lay with his face a deadly white and a cold tremble +convulsing his frame.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy! poor boy!" said Mr. Brownlow, +bending over him. "Call a coach, somebody, +pray. Directly!"</p> + +<p>A coach was obtained, and Oliver, having been +carefully laid on one seat, the old gentleman got +in and sat himself on the other.</p> + +<p>"May I go with you?" said the book-stall keeper, +looking in.</p> + +<p>"Bless me, yes, my dear sir," said Mr. Brownlow +quickly. "I forgot you. Dear, dear! I +have this unhappy book still! Jump in. Poor +fellow! No time to lose."</p> + +<p>The book-stall keeper got into the coach, and it +rattled away. It stopped at length before a neat +house, in a quiet shady street. Here a bed was +prepared, without loss of time, in which Mr. +Brownlow saw his young charge carefully and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +comfortably laid; and here he was tended with a +kindness and solicitude that knew no bounds.</p> + +<p>At last the sick boy began to recover, and one +day Mr. Brownlow came to see him. You may +imagine how happy Oliver was to see his good +friend; but he was no more delighted than was +Mr. Brownlow. The old gentleman came to +spend a short time with him every day; and, when +he grew stronger, Oliver went up to the learned +gentleman's study and talked with him by the +hour and was astonished at the books he saw, and +which Mr. Brownlow told him to look at and read +as much as he liked.</p> + +<p>Oliver was soon well, and no thought was in +Mr. Brownlow's mind but that he should keep +him, and raise him and educate him to be a +splendid man; for no father loves his own son +better than Mr. Brownlow had come to love Oliver.</p> + +<p>Now, I know, you want to ask me what became +of Oliver Twist. But I cannot tell you here. +Let us leave him in this beautiful home of good +Mr. Brownlow; and, if you want to read the rest +of his wonderful story, get Dickens' big book +called <i>Oliver Twist</i>, and read it there. There were +many surprises and much trouble yet in store for +Oliver, but he was always noble, honest, and +brave.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16ad" id="Page_16ad">[16]</a></span></p> + +<h2>———THE———<br /> + +Famous Standard Juveniles</h2> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +Published by<br /> +THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.<br /> +Philadelphia<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<h3>EDWARD S. ELLIS</h3> + + +<p><b>Edward S. Ellis</b>, the popular writer of boys' books, is a +native of Ohio, where he was born somewhat more than a half-century +ago. His father was a famous hunter and rifle shot, +and it was doubtless his exploits and those of his associates, +with their tales of adventure which gave the son his taste +for the breezy backwoods and for depicting the stirring life +of the early settlers on the frontier.</p> + +<p>Mr. Ellis began writing at an early age and his work was +acceptable from the first. His parents removed to New +Jersey while he was a boy and he was graduated from the +State Normal School and became a member of the faculty +while still in his teens. He was afterward principal of the +Trenton High School, a trustee and then superintendent +of schools. By that time his services as a writer had become +so pronounced that he gave his entire attention to literature. +He was an exceptionally successful teacher and +wrote a number of text-books for schools, all of which met +with high favor. For these and his historical productions, +Princeton College conferred upon him the degree of Master +of Arts.</p> + +<p>The high moral character, the clean, manly tendencies +and the admirable literary style of Mr. Ellis' stories have +made him as popular on the other side of the Atlantic as in +this country. A leading paper remarked some time since,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17ad" id="Page_17ad">[17]</a></span> +that no mother need hesitate to place in the hands of her +boy any book written by Mr. Ellis. They are found in +the leading Sunday-school libraries, where, as may well +be believed, they are in wide demand and do much good +by their sound, wholesome lessons which render them as +acceptable to parents as to their children. Nearly all of +the Ellis books published by The John C. Winston Company +are reissued in London, and many have been translated +into other languages. Mr. Ellis is a writer of varied accomplishments, +and, in addition to his stories, is the author of +historical works, of a number of pieces of popular music, +and has made several valuable inventions. Mr. Ellis is in +the prime of his mental and physical powers, and great as +have been the merits of his past achievements, there is +reason to look for more brilliant productions from his pen in +the near future.</p> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<big>DEERFOOT SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Hunters of the Ozark<br /> +The Last War Trail<br /> +Camp in the Mountains<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>LOG CABIN SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Lost Trail<br /> +Footprints in the Forest<br /> +Camp-Fire and Wigwam<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>BOY PIONEER SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Ned in the Block-House<br /> +Ned on the River<br /> +Ned in the Woods<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>THE NORTHWEST SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Two Boys in Wyoming<br /> +Cowmen and Rustlers<br /> +A Strange Craft and its Wonderful Voyage<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>BOONE AND KENTON SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Shod with Silence<br /> +In the Days of the Pioneers<br /> +Phantom of the River<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>WAR CHIEF SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Red Eagle<br /> +Blazing Arrow<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18ad" id="Page_18ad">[18]</a></span>Iron Heart, War Chief of the Iroquois<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>THE NEW DEERFOOT SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Deerfoot in the Forest<br /> +Deerfoot on the Prairie<br /> +Deerfoot in the Mountains<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>TRUE GRIT SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Jim and Joe<br /> +Dorsey, the Young Inventor<br /> +Secret of Coffin Island<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>GREAT AMERICAN SERIES</big><br /> + +2 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $2.00<br /> + +Teddy and Towser; or, Early Days in California<br /> +Up the Forked River<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>COLONIAL SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +An American King<br /> +The Cromwell of Virginia<br /> +The Last Emperor of the Old Dominion<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>FOREIGN ADVENTURE SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Lost in the Forbidden Land<br /> +River and Jungle<br /> +The Hunt of the White Elephant<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +The Forest Messengers<br /> +The Mountain Star<br /> +Queen of the Clouds<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>THE ARIZONA SERIES</big><br /> + +3 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $3.00<br /> + +Off the Reservation<br /> +Trailing Geronimo<br /> +The Round Up<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>OVERLAND SERIES</big><br /> +2 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $2.00<br /> +Alden, the Pony Express Rider<br /> +Alden Among the Indians<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>THE CATAMOUNT CAMP SERIES</big><br /> +2 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $2.00<br /> +Captain of the Camp<br /> +Catamount Camp<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<big>THE FLYING BOYS SERIES</big><br /> +2 vols. By EDWARD S. ELLIS $2.00<br /> +The Flying Boys in the Sky<br /> +The Flying Boys to the Rescue<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'><b>Sent Postpaid on Receipt of Price</b></div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<big>THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., <i>Publishers</i></big><br /> +WINSTON BUILDING PHILADELPHIA<br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6ad" id="Page_6ad">[6]</a></span></p> + +<h2>EVERY CHILD'S LIBRARY</h2> + + +<h3>Books "That Every Child Can<br /> +Read" for Four Reasons:</h3> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Four reasons"> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>1 </td><td align='left'>Because the subjects have all proved their lasting popularity.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>2 </td><td align='left'>Because of the simple language in which they are written.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>3 </td><td align='left'>Because they have been carefully edited, and anything that might prove<br />objectionable for children's reading has been eliminated.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' valign='top'>4 </td><td align='left'>Because of their accuracy of statement.</td></tr> +</table></div> +<p><b>This Series of Books</b> comprises subjects that appeal to +all young people. Besides the historical subjects that are +necessary to the education of children, it also contains +standard books written in language that children can read +and understand.</p> + +<p><b>Carefully Edited.</b> Each work is carefully edited by +Rev. Jesse Lyman Hurlbut, D.D., to make sure that the +style is simple and suitable for Young Readers, and to eliminate +anything which might be objectionable. Dr. Hurlbut's +large and varied experience in the instruction of young +people, and in the preparation of literature in language that +is easily understood, makes this series of books a welcome +addition to libraries, reading circles, schools and home.</p> + +<p>Issued in uniform style of binding.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<b><big>Cloth, 12mo. Illustrated. Price, 75 cents</big></b><br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'>LIST OF TITLES</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="LIST OF TITLES"> +<tr><td align='left'>DICKENS' STORIES ABOUT CHILDREN. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LIVES OF OUR PRESIDENTS. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LEATHER STOCKING TALES. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORIES ABOUT CHILDREN OF ALL NATIONS. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORIES OF GREAT AMERICANS. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORIES OF OUR NAVAL HEROES. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORY OF JESUS, THE. Every Child can read</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>STORY OF OUR COUNTRY, THE. Every Child can read</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class='center'>(Others in preparation)<br /> + +CATALOGUE MAILED ON APPLICATION</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<big>THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., <i>Publishers</i></big><br /> +WINSTON BUILDING PHILADELPHIA<br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9ad" id="Page_9ad">[9]</a></span></p> + +<h2>HURLBUT'S STORY OF THE BIBLE</h2> + +<h3><small><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub></small>FROM GENESIS<br /> +TO REVELATION</h3> + +<div class='center'>BY REV. JESSE LYMAN HURLBUT, D.D.</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<h3>A BOOK FOR OLD AND YOUNG</h3> + +<p>Told in language that interests both Old and Young. +"Supersedes all other books of the kind." Recommended +by all Denominations for its freshness and +accuracy; for its freedom from doctrinal discussion; for its +simplicity of language; for its numerous and appropriate +illustrations; as the best work on the subject. The greatest +aid to Parents, Teachers and all who wish the Bible +Story in a simplified form. 168 separate stories, each +complete in itself, yet forming a continuous narrative of +the Bible. 762 pages, nearly 300 half-tone illustrations, +8 in colors. Octavo.</p> + +<h3>THE FLEXIBLE MOROCCO STYLE</h3> + +<p>"<b>HURLBUT'S STORY OF THE BIBLE</b>" can be obtained +in <b>FLEXIBLE MOROCCO BINDING</b> with red under gold +edges. This new binding will give the work a wider use, +for in this convenient form the objection to carrying the +ordinary bound book is entirely overcome. This convenient +style also contains "<b>HURLBUT'S BIBLE LESSONS +FOR BOYS AND GIRLS</b>," a system of questions and +answers, based on the stories in the book, by which the +Old Testament story can be taught in a year, and the +New Testament story can be taught in a year. This edition +also contains 17 Maps printed in colors, covering the geography +of the Old Testament and of the New Testament.</p> + +<p>Those additional features are not included in the +Cloth bound book, but are only to be obtained in the new +Flexible Morocco style.</p> + +<div class='center'> +Cloth, extra Price, $1.50<br /> +</div> + +<div class="hang1">FLEXIBLE MOROCCO STYLE. Bound in FRENCH SEAL, +round corners, red under gold edges, extra grained lining, +specially sewed to produce absolute flexibility and +great durability. Each book packed in neat and substantial +box</div> + +<div class='center'> +Price $3.75<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<big>THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., <i>Publishers</i></big><br /> +WINSTON BUILDING PHILADELPHIA<br /></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10ad" id="Page_10ad">[10]</a></span></p> + +<div class="center"><b>Critics uniformly agree that parents can safely place in the hands +of boys and girls any book written by Edward S. Ellis</b></div> + + + + +<h2>The "FLYING BOYS" Series</h2> + +<h3>By EDWARD S. ELLIS</h3> + +<div class="center"> +Author of the Renowned "Deerfoot" Books, and 100<br /> +other famous volumes for young people<br /> +</div> + + +<p>During his trip abroad last summer, Mr. Ellis became +intensely interested in æroplane and airship flying in +France, and this new series from his pen is the visible result +of what he would call a "vacation." He has made +a study of the science and art of æronautics, and these +books will give boys just the information they want about +this marvelous triumph of man.</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Flying Boys books"> +<tr><td align='left'><b>First Volume: THE FLYING BOYS IN THE SKY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>Second Volume: THE FLYING BOYS TO THE RESCUE</b></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The stories are timely and full of interest and stirring +events. Handsomely illustrated and with appropriate +cover design.</p> + +<div class='center'> +Price Per volume, 60 cents. Postpaid<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="center"><b>This series will appeal to up-to-date American Girls. The subsequent +volumes will carry the Ranch Girls through numerous ups and downs +of fortune and adventures in America and Europe</b><br /> + + +THE "RANCH GIRLS" SERIES IS A<br /> +NEW LINE OF BOOKS FOR GIRLS<br /></div> + + + +<h2>——THE——<br /> + +Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge</h2> + +<h3> +By MARGARET VANDERCOOK<br /> +</h3> + +<p>This first volume of the new <b>RANCH GIRLS SERIES</b>, +will stir up the envy of all girl readers to a life of healthy +exercise and honest helpfulness. The Ranch Girls undertake +the management of a large ranch in a western state, +and after many difficulties make it pay and give them a +good living. They are jolly, healthy, attractive girls, who +have the best kind of a time, and the young readers will +enjoy the book as much as any of them. The first volume +of the Ranch Girls Series will be followed by other titles +carrying the Ranch Girls through numerous ups and downs +of fortune and adventures in America and Europe.</p> + +<div class='center'> +Attractive cover design. Excellent paper. Illustrated. 12mo.<br /> +Cloth. Price, Per volume, 60 cents. Postpaid<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<big>THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., <i>Publishers</i></big><br /> +WINSTON BUILDING PHILADELPHIA<br /></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14ad" id="Page_14ad">[14]</a></span></p> + +<div class='center'><b>NEW EDITION OF ALGER'S GREATEST SET OF BOOKS</b></div> + + +<h2><small>——THE——</small><br /> + +Famous Ragged Dick Series</h2> + +<div class='center'> +NEW TYPE-SET PLATES MADE IN 1910<br /> +</div> + +<p>In response to a demand for a popular-priced edition +of this series of books—the most famous set ever written +by <b>Horatio Alger, Jr.</b>—this edition has been prepared.</p> + +<p>Each volume is set in large, new type, printed on an +excellent quality of paper, and bound in uniform style, +having an entirely new and appropriate cover design, +with heavy gold stamp.</p> + +<p>As is well known, the books in this series are copyrighted, +and consequently none of them will be found in +any other publisher's list.</p> + +<div class='center'> +RAGGED DICK SERIES. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 6 vols.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Ragged Dick series"> +<tr><td align='left'>RAGGED DICK</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>FAME AND FORTUNE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARK, THE MATCH BOY</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ROUGH AND READY</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BEN, THE LUGGAGE BOY</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>RUFUS AND ROSE</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'> +Each set is packed in a handsome box<br /> +12mo. Cloth<br /> +Sold only in sets. Price per set, $3.60. Postpaid<br /> +———————<br /> + + + +<b>RECOMMENDED BY REAR ADMIRAL MELVILLE, WHO<br /> +COMMANDED THREE EXPEDITIONS TO THE ARCTIC REGIONS</b></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><small>——THE——</small><br /> + +New Popular Science Series</h2> + +<h3> +BY PROF. EDWIN J. HOUSTON<br /> +</h3> + +<p><b>THE NORTH POLE SERIES.</b> By Prof. Edwin J. +Houston. This is an entirely new series, which opens a +new field in Juvenile Literature. Dr. Houston has spent +a lifetime in teaching boys the principles of physical and +scientific phenomena and knows how to talk and write +for them in a way that is most attractive. In the reading +of these stories the most accurate scientific information +will be absorbed.</p> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="THE NORTH POLE SERIES"> +<tr><td align='left'>THE SEARCH FOR THE NORTH POLE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DISCOVERY OF THE NORTH POLE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CAST AWAY AT THE NORTH POLE</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p><b>Handsomely bound. The volumes, 12mo. in size, are bound in +Extra English Cloth, and are attractively stamped in colors and +full gold titles. Sold separately or in sets, boxed.</b></p> + +<div class='center'> +Price $1.00 per volume. Postpaid<br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class='center'> +<big>THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO., <i>Publishers</i></big><br /> +WINSTON BUILDING PHILADELPHIA<br /></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors were corrected.</p> +<p>The advertising pages in the back start at page 16 and go to 18. Then the numbering is +6, 9, 10 and 14.</p> +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DICKENS' STORIES ABOUT CHILDREN EVERY CHILD CAN READ***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 32241-h.txt or 32241-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/2/4/32241">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/2/4/32241</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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