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diff --git a/37581-h/37581-h.htm b/37581-h/37581-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7459162 --- /dev/null +++ b/37581-h/37581-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5322 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cricket on the Hearth, 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 { 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%; + } + .split { + float: left; + clear: left; + padding-right: 2%; + padding-left: 0; + padding-top: 0; + padding-bottom: 0; + margin-left:-1em; + } + + .splitr { + float: right; + clear: right; + padding-right: 0; + padding-left: 2%; + padding-top: 0; + padding-bottom: 0; + } + + .splitfull { + float: left; + clear: left; + padding-right: 2%; + padding-top: 0; + padding-bottom: 0; + margin-right: 100%; + margin-left:-1em; + } + .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;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .smaller {font-size: 50%;} + .big {font-size: 110%;} + .bigger {font-size: 170%;} + + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .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;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cricket on the Hearth + A Fairy Tale of Home + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Illustrator: Daniel Maclise + Richard Doyle + Clarkson Stanfield + John Leech + Edwin Landseer + +Release Date: October 1, 2011 [EBook #37581] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;"> +<img src="images/i_cover.jpg" width="351" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE<br /> + +CRICKET ON THE HEARTH.</h1> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<img src="images/i_005.png" width="350" height="600" alt="Sitting by the hearth" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;"><a name="title" id="title"></a> +<img src="images/i_006.png" width="362" height="600" alt="THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h4>There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg collection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in selecting the preferred file.<br />Click on any of the filenumbers below to quickly view each ebook. +</h4> + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/20795/20795-h/20795-h.htm"> +20795</a> </b> </td><td>(Some black and white illustrations) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/37581/37581-h/37581-h.htm"> +37581</a></b></td><td>(Many fine black and white illustrations) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/678/678-h/678-h.htm"> +678</a></b> </td><td>(Not illustrated) +</td></tr> + +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><span class='small'>THE</span><br /> + +CRICKET ON THE HEARTH.<br /> + +<span class='smaller'>A</span><br /> + +<span class='small'>FAIRY TALE OF HOME.</span></h1> + + + +<div class='center'>—————<br /><br />BY<br /> + +<span class='author'>CHARLES DICKENS.</span><br /> + +<br /> +<br /> +<b>ELEVENTH EDITION.</b><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<b>London:</b><br /> +<span class='small'>PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR,</span><br /> +———<br /> +BY BRADBURY AND EVANS, 90, FLEET STREET,<br /> +AND WHITEFRIARS.<br /> +———<br /> +<span class='small'>MDCCCXLVI.</span><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='copyright'> +LONDON:<br /> +BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>TO</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'>LORD JEFFREY</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='small'>THIS LITTLE STORY IS INSCRIBED,</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='small'>WITH</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='small'>THE AFFECTION AND ATTACHMENT OF HIS FRIEND,</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">THE AUTHOR.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-right: 6em;"><i>December</i>, 1845.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='center'><i>Engraver.</i></td><td align='center'><i>Artist.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#frontis">Frontispiece</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>Thompson.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">D. Maclise, R.A.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#title">Title</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>G. Dalziel.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">D. Maclise, R.A.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#chirp_the_first">Chirp the First</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>G. Dalziel.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">R. Doyle.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Carriers_Cart">The Carrier's Cart</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>T. Williams.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">C. Stanfield, R.A.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Johns_Arrival">John's Arrival</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>E. Dalziel.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#John_and_Dot">John and Dot</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>Swain.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Chirp_the_Second">Chirp the Second</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>E. Dalziel.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">R. Doyle.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Caleb_at_Work">Caleb at Work</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>G. Dalziel.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Boxer">Boxer</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>T. Williams.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">E. Landseer, R.A.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Tilly_Slowboy">Tilly Slowboy</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>Groves.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Mrs_Fieldings_Lecture">Mrs. Fielding's Lecture</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>E. Dalziel.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Chirp_the_Third">Chirp the Third</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>T. Williams.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">R. Doyle.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#Johns_Reverie">John's Reverie</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>Groves.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#The_Dance">The Dance</a></span></td><td align='left'><i>Swain.</i></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">J. Leech.</span></td></tr> +</table></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: 600px;"><a name="chirp_the_first" id="chirp_the_first"></a> +<img src="images/i_014.png" width="600" height="989" alt="Chirp the First The Kettle began it! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I know better." title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<div class='unindent'>Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the +end of time that she couldn't say which of them +began it; but I say the Kettle did. I ought to know, +I hope? The Kettle began it, full five minutes by +the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner before +the Cricket uttered a chirp.</div> + +<p>As if the clock hadn't finished striking, and the +convulsive little Haymaker at the top of it, jerking +away right and left with a scythe in front of a +Moorish Palace, hadn't mowed down half an acre +of imaginary grass before the Cricket joined in +at all!</p> + +<p>Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one +knows that. I wouldn't set my own opinion against +the opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, unless I were quite +sure, on any account whatever. Nothing should induce +me. But this is a question of fact. And the fact +is, that the Kettle began it, at least five minutes +before the Cricket gave any sign of being in existence. +Contradict me: and I'll say ten.</p> + +<p>Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should +have proceeded to do so, in my very first word, but +for this plain consideration—if I am to tell a story I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +must begin at the beginning; and how is it possible +to begin at the beginning, without beginning at the +Kettle?</p> + +<p>It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or +trial of skill, you must understand, between the +Kettle and the Cricket. And this is what led to it, +and how it came about.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peerybingle going out into the raw twilight, +and clicking over the wet stones in a pair of pattens +that worked innumerable rough impressions of the +first proposition in Euclid all about the yard—Mrs. +Peerybingle filled the Kettle at the water butt. +Presently returning, less the pattens: and a good +deal less, for they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle +was but short: she set the Kettle on the fire. In +doing which she lost her temper, or mislaid it for an +instant; for the water—being uncomfortably cold, and +in that slippy, slushy, sleety sort of state wherein it +seems to penetrate through every kind of substance, +patten rings included—had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle's +toes, and even splashed her legs. And +when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) +upon our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +in point of stockings, we find this, for the moment, +hard to bear.</p> + +<p>Besides, the Kettle was aggravating and obstinate. +It wouldn't allow itself to be adjusted on the top +bar; it wouldn't hear of accommodating itself kindly +to the knobs of coal; it would lean forward with a +drunken air, and dribble, a very Idiot of a Kettle, +on the hearth. It was quarrelsome; and hissed and +spluttered morosely at the fire. To sum up all, the +lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle's fingers, first of all +turned topsy-turvy, and then, with an ingenious pertinacity +deserving of a better cause, dived sideways +in—down to the very bottom of the Kettle. And the +hull of the Royal George has never made half the +monstrous resistance to coming out of the water, +which the lid of that Kettle employed against Mrs. +Peerybingle, before she got it up again.</p> + +<p>It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even +then; carrying its handle with an air of defiance, +and cocking its spout pertly and mockingly at Mrs. +Peerybingle, as if it said, "I won't boil. Nothing +shall induce me!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +dusted her chubby little hands against each other, +and sat down before the Kettle: laughing. Meantime, +the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and +gleaming on the little Haymaker at the top of the +Dutch clock, until one might have thought he stood +stock still before the Moorish Palace, and nothing +was in motion but the flame.</p> + +<p>He was on the move, however; and had his spasms, +two to the second, all right and regular. But his +sufferings when the clock was going to strike, were +frightful to behold; and when a Cuckoo looked out of +a trap-door in the Palace, and gave note six times, it +shook him, each time, like a spectral voice—or like a +something wiry, plucking at his legs.</p> + +<p>It was not until a violent commotion and a whirring +noise among the weights and ropes below him +had quite subsided, that this terrified Haymaker became +himself again. Nor was he startled without +reason; for these rattling, bony skeletons of clocks are +very disconcerting in their operation, and I wonder +very much how any set of men, but most of all how +Dutchmen, can have had a liking to invent them. +For there is a popular belief that Dutchmen love<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +broad cases and much clothing for their own lower +selves; and they might know better than to leave +their clocks so very lank and unprotected, surely.</p> + +<p>Now it was, you observe, that the Kettle began to +spend the evening. Now it was, that the Kettle, +growing mellow and musical, began to have irrepressible +gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short +vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it +hadn't quite made up its mind yet, to be good company. +Now it was, that after two or three such vain +attempts to stifle its convivial sentiments, it threw off +all moroseness, all reserve, and burst into a stream of +song so cosy and hilarious, as never maudlin nightingale +yet formed the least idea of.</p> + +<p>So plain, too! Bless you, you might have understood +it like a book—better than some books you and +I could name, perhaps. With its warm breath gushing +forth in a light cloud which merrily and gracefully +ascended a few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner +as its own domestic Heaven, it trolled its +song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, that +its iron body hummed and stirred upon the fire; and +the lid itself, the recently rebellious lid—such is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +influence of a bright example—performed a sort of +jig, and clattered like a deaf and dumb young cymbal +that had never known the use of its twin brother.</p> + +<p>That this song of the Kettle's, was a song of invitation +and welcome to somebody out of doors; to +somebody at that moment coming on, towards the +snug small home and the crisp fire; there is no doubt +whatever. Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as +she sat musing, before the hearth. It's a dark night, +sang the Kettle, and the rotten leaves are lying by +the way; and above, all is mist and darkness, and +below, all is mire and clay; and there's only one +relief in all the sad and murky air; and I don't know +that it is one, for it's nothing but a glare, of deep +and angry crimson, where the sun and wind together, +set a brand upon the clouds for being guilty of such +weather; and the widest open country is a long dull +streak of black; and there's hoar-frost on the +finger-post, and thaw upon the track; and the ice it +isn't water, and the water isn't free; and you couldn't +say that anything is what it ought to be; but he's +coming, coming, coming!——</p> + +<p>And here, if you like, the Cricket <span class="smcap">did</span> chime in!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +with a Chirrup, Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, +by way of chorus; with a voice, so astoundingly disproportionate +to its size, as compared with the Kettle; +(size! you couldn't See it!) that if it had then +and there burst itself like an overcharged gun: if it +had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped its +little body into fifty pieces: it would have seemed a +natural and inevitable consequence, for which it had +expressly laboured.</p> + +<p>The Kettle had had the last of its solo performance. +It persevered with undiminished ardour; but the +Cricket took first fiddle and kept it. Good Heaven, +how it chirped! Its shrill, sharp, piercing voice +resounded through the house, and seemed to twinkle +in the outer darkness like a Star. There was an +indescribable little trill and tremble in it, at its loudest, +which suggested its being carried off its legs, and made +to leap again, by its own intense enthusiasm. Yet +they went very well together, the Cricket and the +Kettle. The burden of the song was still the same; +and louder, louder, louder still, they sang it in their +emulation.</p> + +<p>The fair little listener; for fair she was, and young—though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +something of what is called the dumpling +shape; but I don't myself object to that—lighted a +candle; glanced at the Haymaker on the top of the +clock, who was getting in a pretty average crop of +minutes; and looked out of the window, where she +saw nothing, owing to the darkness, but her own +face imaged in the glass. And my opinion is (and so +would your's have been), that she might have looked +a long way, and seen nothing half so agreeable. +When she came back, and sat down in her former +seat, the Cricket and the Kettle were still keeping it +up, with a perfect fury of competition. The Kettle's +weak side clearly being that he didn't know when he +was beat.</p> + +<p>There was all the excitement of a race about it. +Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, +hum, hum—m—m! Kettle making play in the +distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! +Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! +Kettle sticking to him in his own way; no idea of +giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher +than ever. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle slow +and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket going in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +to finish him. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle +not to be finished. Until at last, they got so jumbled +together, in the hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, of +the match, that whether the Kettle chirped and the +Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the Kettle +hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, it +would have taken a clearer head than your's or mine +to have decided with anything like certainty. But of +this, there is no doubt: that the Kettle and the +Cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some +power of amalgamation best known to themselves, +sent, each, his fireside song of comfort streaming into +a ray of the candle that shone out through the window; +and a long way down the lane. And this light, +bursting on a certain person who, on the instant, +approached towards it through the gloom, expressed +the whole thing to him, literally in a twinkling, and +cried, "Welcome home, old fellow! Welcome home, +my Boy!"</p> +<div><a name="Carriers_Cart" id="Carriers_Cart"></a> +<img src="images/i_024a.png" alt="i024a" width="600" height="384" class="split" /> + +<img src="images/i_024b.png" alt="i024b" width="359" height="575" class="split" /> + +<p>This end attained, the Kettle, being dead beat, +boiled over, and was taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle +then went running to the door, where, what +with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +voice of a man, the +tearing in and out +of an excited dog, +and the surprising and +mysterious appearance +of a Baby, there +was soon the very +What's-his-name to +pay.</p> + + + +<p>Where the Baby +came from, or how +Mrs. Peerybingle got +hold of it in that flash of time, <i>I</i> don't know. But a +live Baby there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle's arms; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +a pretty tolerable amount of pride she seemed to have +in it, when she was drawn gently to the fire, by a +sturdy figure of a man, much taller and much older +than herself; who had to stoop a long way down, to +kiss her. But she was worth the trouble. Six foot +six, with the lumbago, might have done it.</p> +</div> +<p>"Oh goodness, John!" said Mrs. P. "What a +state you're in with the weather!"</p> + +<p>He was something the worse for it, undeniably. +The thick mist hung in clots upon his eyelashes +like candied thaw; and between the fog and fire +together, there were rainbows in his very whiskers.</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, Dot," John made answer, slowly, +as he unrolled a shawl from about his throat; and +warmed his hands; "it—it an't exactly summer +weather. So, no wonder."</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't call me Dot, John. I don't +like it," said Mrs. Peerybingle: pouting in a way +that clearly showed she <i>did</i> like it, very much.</p> + +<p>"Why what else are you?" returned John, looking +down upon her with a smile, and giving her +waist as light a squeeze as his huge hand and arm +could give. "A dot and"—here he glanced at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +Baby—"a dot and carry—I won't say it, for fear I +should spoil it; but I was very near a joke. I don't +know as ever I was nearer."</p> + +<p>He was often near to something or other very +clever, by his own account: this lumbering, slow, +honest John; this John so heavy but so light of spirit; +so rough upon the surface, but so gentle at the core; +so dull without, so quick within; so stolid, but so good! +Oh Mother Nature, give thy children the true Poetry +of Heart that hid itself in this poor Carrier's breast—he +was but a Carrier by the way—and we can bear +to have them talking Prose, and leading lives of +Prose; and bear to bless Thee for their company!</p> + +<p>It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure +and her Baby in her arms: a very doll of a Baby: +glancing with a coquettish thoughtfulness at the fire, +and inclining her delicate little head just enough on +one side to let it rest in an odd, half-natural, half-affected, +wholly nestling and agreeable manner, on +the great rugged figure of the Carrier. It was +pleasant to see him, with his tender awkwardness, +endeavouring to adapt his rude support to her slight +need, and make his burly middle-age a leaning-staff<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +not inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was +pleasant to observe how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the +background for the Baby, took special cognizance +(though in her earliest teens) of this grouping; and +stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her +head thrust forward, taking it in as if it were air. +Nor was it less agreeable to observe how John the +Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the aforesaid +Baby, checked his hand when on the point of +touching the infant, as if he thought he might crack +it; and bending down, surveyed it from a safe distance, +with a kind of puzzled pride: such as an +amiable mastiff might be supposed to show, if he +found himself, one day, the father of a young canary.</p> + +<p>"An't he beautiful, John? Don't he look precious +in his sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Very precious," said John. "Very much so. +He generally <i>is</i> asleep, an't he?"</p> + +<p>"Lor John! Good gracious no!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said John, pondering. "I thought his +eyes was generally shut. Halloa!"</p> + +<p>"Goodness John, how you startle one!"</p> + +<p>"It an't right for him to turn 'em up in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +way!" said the astonished Carrier, "is it? See +how he's winking with both of 'em at once! and +look at his mouth! why he's gasping like a gold and +silver fish!"</p> + +<p>"You don't deserve to be a father, you don't," +said Dot, with all the dignity of an experienced +matron. "But how should you know what little +complaints children are troubled with, John! You +wouldn't so much as know their names, you stupid +fellow." And when she had turned the Baby over +on her left arm, and had slapped its back as a restorative, +she pinched her husband's ear, laughing.</p> + +<p>"No," said John, pulling off his outer coat. "It's +very true, Dot. I don't know much about it. I +only know that I've been fighting pretty stiffly with +the Wind to-night. It's been blowing north-east, +straight into the cart, the whole way home."</p> + +<p>"Poor old man, so it has!" cried Mrs. Peerybingle, +instantly becoming very active. "Here! +Take the precious darling, Tilly, while I make +myself of some use. Bless it, I could smother it with +kissing it; I could! Hie then, good dog! Hie +Boxer, boy! Only let me make the tea first, John;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +and then I'll help you with the parcels, like a busy +bee. 'How doth the little'—and all the rest of it, +you know John. Did you ever learn 'how doth the +little,' when you went to school, John?"</p> +<div><a name="Johns_Arrival" id="Johns_Arrival"></a> +<img src="images/i_030a.png" alt="i030a" width="394" height="414" class="split" /> + +<img src="images/i_030b.png" alt="i030b" width="600" height="612" class="split" /> + +<p>"Not to quite know it," John returned. "I was +very near it once. But I should only have spoilt it, +I dare say."</p> + +<p>"Ha ha!" laughed Dot. She had the blithest +little laugh you ever heard. "What a dear old +darling of a dunce you are, John, to be sure!"</p> + + + +<p>Not at all disputing this position, John went out +to see that the boy with the lantern, which had been +dancing to and fro before the door and window, like a +Will of the Wisp, took due care of the horse; who +was fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you +his measure, and so old that his birthday was lost +in the mists of antiquity. Boxer, feeling that his +attentions were due to the family in general, and +must be impartially distributed, dashed in and out +with bewildering inconstancy: now describing a circle +of short barks round the horse, where he was being +rubbed down at the stable-door; now feigning to +make savage rushes at his mistress, and facetiously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +bringing himself to sudden +stops; now eliciting +a shriek from Tilly +Slowboy, in the +low nursing-chair +near the fire, by +the unexpected +application of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +moist nose to her countenance; now exhibiting an +obtrusive interest in the Baby; now going round and +round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had +established himself for the night; now getting up again, +and taking that nothing of a fag-end of a tail of his, +out into the weather, as if he had just remembered +an appointment, and was off, at a round trot, to keep it.</p> +</div> +<p>"There! There's the teapot, ready on the hob!" +said Dot; as briskly busy as a child at play at keeping +house. "And there's the cold knuckle of ham; +and there's the butter; and there's the crusty loaf, +and all! Here's a clothes-basket for the small +parcels, John, if you've got any there—where are +you, John? Don't let the dear child fall under the +grate, Tilly, whatever you do!"</p> + +<p>It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her +rejecting the caution with some vivacity, that she +had a rare and surprising talent for getting this Baby +into difficulties: and had several times imperilled its +short life, in a quiet way peculiarly her own. She +was of a spare and straight shape, this young lady, +insomuch that her garments appeared to be in constant +danger of sliding off those sharp pegs, her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +shoulders, on which they were loosely hung. Her +costume was remarkable for the partial development +on all possible occasions of some flannel vestment of +a singular structure; also for affording glimpses, in +the region of the back, of a corset, or pair of stays, +in colour a dead-green. Being always in a state of gaping +admiration at everything, and absorbed, besides, +in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress's perfections +and the Baby's, Miss Slowboy, in her little +errors of judgment, may be said to have done equal +honour to her head and to her heart; and though +these did less honour to the Baby's head, which they +were the occasional means of bringing into contact +with deal doors, dressers, stair-rails, bedposts, and +other foreign substances, still they were the honest +results of Tilly Slowboy's constant astonishment at +finding herself so kindly treated, and installed in such +a comfortable home. For the maternal and paternal +Slowboy were alike unknown to Fame, and Tilly had +been bred by public charity, a Foundling; which +word, though only differing from Fondling by one +vowel's length, is very different in meaning, and +expresses quite another thing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back +with her husband; tugging at the clothes-basket, +and making the most strenuous exertions to do nothing +at all (for he carried it); would have amused you, +almost as much as it amused him. It may have +entertained the Cricket too, for anything I know; but, +certainly, it now began to chirp again, vehemently.</p> + +<p>"Heyday!" said John, in his slow way. "It's +merrier than ever, to-night, I think."</p> + +<p>"And it's sure to bring us good fortune, John! +It always has done so. To have a Cricket on the +Hearth, is the luckiest thing in all the world!"</p> + +<p>John looked at her as if he had very nearly got +the thought into his head, that she was his Cricket +in chief, and he quite agreed with her. But it was +probably one of his narrow escapes, for he said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"The first time I heard its cheerful little note, +John, was on that night when you brought me +home—when you brought me to my new home here; +its little mistress. Nearly a year ago. You recollect, +John?"</p> + +<p>Oh yes. John remembered. I should think so!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed +so full of promise and encouragement. It seemed to +say, you would be kind and gentle with me, and +would not expect (I had a fear of that, John, then) to +find an old head on the shoulders of your foolish +little wife."</p> + +<p>John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, +and then the head, as though he would have said +No, No; he had had no such expectation; he had +been quite content to take them as they were. And +really he had reason. They were very comely.</p> + +<p>"It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say +so: for you have ever been, I am sure, the best, the +most considerate, the most affectionate of husbands +to me. This has been a happy home, John; and I +love the Cricket for its sake!"</p> + +<p>"Why so do I then," said the Carrier. "So do +I, Dot."</p> + +<p>"I love it for the many times I have heard it, and +the many thoughts its harmless music has given me. +Sometimes, in the twilight, when I have felt a little +solitary and down-hearted, John—before Baby was +here, to keep me company and make the house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +gay; when I have thought how lonely you would be +if I should die; how lonely I should be, if I could +know that you had lost me, dear; its Chirp, Chirp, +Chirp upon the hearth, has seemed to tell me of +another little voice, so sweet, so very dear to me, +before whose coming sound, my trouble vanished like +a dream. And when I used to fear—I did fear once, +John; I was very young you know—that ours might +prove to be an ill-assorted marriage: I being such a +child, and you more like my guardian than my husband: +and that you might not, however hard you +tried, be able to learn to love me, as you hoped and +prayed you might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, has +cheered me up again, and filled me with new trust +and confidence. I was thinking of these things +to-night, dear, when I sat expecting you; and I love +the Cricket for their sake!"</p> + +<p>"And so do I," repeated John. "But Dot? <i>I</i> +hope and pray that I might learn to love you? How +you talk! I had learnt that, long before I brought +you here, to be the Cricket's little mistress, Dot!"</p> + +<p>She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and +looked up at him with an agitated face, as if she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +would have told him something. Next moment, she +was down upon her knees before the basket; speaking +in a sprightly voice, and busy with the parcels.</p> + +<p>"There are not many of them to-night, John, but +I saw some goods behind the cart, just now; and +though they give more trouble, perhaps, still they pay +as well; so we have no reason to grumble, have we? +Besides, you have been delivering, I dare say, as you +came along?"</p> + +<p>Oh yes, John said. A good many.</p> + +<p>"Why what's this round box? Heart alive, +John, it's a wedding-cake!"</p> + +<p>"Leave a woman alone, to find out that," said +John admiringly. "Now a man would never have +thought of it! whereas, it's my belief that if you was +to pack a wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a +turn-up bedstead, or a pickled salmon keg, or any +unlikely thing, a woman would be sure to find it out +directly. Yes; I called for it at the pastry-cook's."</p> + +<p>"And it weighs I don't know what—whole +hundredweights!" cried Dot, making a great +demonstration of trying to lift it. "Whose is it, +John? Where is it going?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Read the writing on the other side," said John.</p> + +<p>"Why, John! My Goodness, John!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! who'd have thought it!" John returned.</p> + +<p>"You never mean to say," pursued Dot, sitting on +the floor and shaking her head at him, "that it's +Gruff and Tackleton the toymaker!"</p> + +<p>John nodded.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. +Not in assent: in dumb and pitying amazement; +screwing up her lips, the while, with all their little +force (they were never made for screwing up; I am +clear of that), and looking the good Carrier through +and through, in her abstraction. Miss Slowboy, in +the mean time, who had a mechanical power of +reproducing scraps of current conversation for the +delectation of the Baby, with all the sense struck out +of them, and all the Nouns changed into the Plural +number, enquired aloud of that young creature, Was +it Gruffs and Tackletons the toymakers then, and +Would it call at Pastry-cooks for wedding-cakes, and +Did its mothers know the boxes when its fathers +brought them homes; and so on.</p> + +<p>"And that is really to come about!" said Dot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +"Why, she and I were girls at school together, +John."</p> + +<p>He might have been thinking of her: or nearly +thinking of her, perhaps: as she was in that same +school time. He looked upon her with a thoughtful +pleasure, but he made no answer.</p> + +<p>"And he's as old! As unlike her!—Why, how +many years older than you, is Gruff and Tackleton +John?"</p> + +<p>"How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night +at one sitting, than Gruff and Tackleton ever +took in four, I wonder!" replied John, good-humouredly, +as he drew a chair to the round table, +and began at the cold Ham. "As to eating, I eat +but little; but that little I enjoy, Dot."</p> + +<p>Even this; his usual sentiment at meal times; one +of his innocent delusions (for his appetite was always +obstinate, and flatly contradicted him); awoke no smile +in the face of his little wife, who stood among the +parcels, pushing the cake-box slowly from her with +her foot, and never once looked, though her eyes +were cast down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally +was so mindful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +there, heedless alike of the tea and John (although he +called to her, and rapped the table with his knife to +startle her), until he rose and touched her on the arm; +when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to +her place behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence. +But not as she had laughed before. The +manner, and the music, were quite changed.</p> + +<p>The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room +was not so cheerful as it had been. Nothing like it.</p> + +<p>"So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?" +she said: breaking a long silence, which the honest +Carrier had devoted to the practical illustration of one +part of his favourite sentiment—certainly enjoying +what he ate, if it couldn't be admitted that he ate +but little. "So these are all the parcels; are they, +John?"</p> + +<p>"That's all," said John. "Why—no—I—" laying +down his knife and fork, and taking a long breath. "I +declare—I've clean forgotten the old gentleman!"</p> + +<p>"The old gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"In the cart," said John. "He was asleep, +among the straw, the last time I saw him. I've very +nearly remembered him, twice, since I came in; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +he went out of my head again. Halloa! Yahip there! +rouse up! That's my hearty!"</p> + +<p>John said these latter words, outside the door, +whither he had hurried with the candle in his hand.</p> + +<p>Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference +to The Old Gentleman, and connecting in her mystified +imagination certain associations of a religious +nature with the phrase, was so disturbed, that hastily +rising from the low chair by the fire to seek protection +near the skirts of her mistress, and coming into contact +as she crossed the doorway with an ancient Stranger, +she instinctively made a charge or butt at him with +the only offensive instrument within her reach. This +instrument happening to be the Baby, great commotion +and alarm ensued, which the sagacity of Boxer +rather tended to increase; for that good dog, more +thoughtful than his master, had, it seemed, been +watching the old gentleman in his sleep lest he should +walk off with a few young Poplar trees that were tied +up behind the cart; and he still attended on him very +closely; worrying his gaiters in fact, and making +dead sets at the buttons.</p> + +<p>"You're such an undeniable good sleeper, Sir,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +said John when tranquillity was restored; in the +mean time the old gentleman had stood, bare-headed +and motionless, in the centre of the room; "that I +have half a mind to ask you where the other six are: +only that would be a joke, and I know I should spoil +it. Very near though," murmured the Carrier, with +a chuckle; "very near!"</p> + +<p>The Stranger, who had long white hair; good +features, singularly bold and well defined for an old +man; and dark, bright, penetrating eyes; looked +round with a smile, and saluted the Carrier's wife by +gravely inclining his head.</p> + +<p>His garb was very quaint and odd—a long, long +way behind the time. Its hue was brown, all over. +In his hand he held a great brown club or walking-stick; +and striking this upon the floor, it fell +asunder, and became a chair. On which he sat +down, quite composedly.</p> + +<p>"There!" said the Carrier, turning to his wife. +"That's the way I found him, sitting by the roadside! +upright as a milestone. And almost as deaf."</p> + +<p>"Sitting in the open air, John!"</p> + +<p>"In the open air," replied the Carrier, "just at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +dusk. 'Carriage Paid,' he said; and gave me +eighteenpence. Then he got in. And there he is."</p> + +<p>"He's going, John, I think!"</p> + +<p>Not at all. He was only going to speak.</p> + +<p>"If you please, I was to be left till called for," said +the Stranger, mildly. "Don't mind me."</p> + +<p>With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of +his large pockets, and a book from another; and +leisurely began to read. Making no more of Boxer +than if he had been a house lamb!</p> + +<p>The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. +The Stranger raised his head; and glancing +from the latter to the former, said:</p> + +<p>"Your daughter, my good friend?"</p> + +<p>"Wife," returned John.</p> + +<p>"Niece?" said the Stranger.</p> + +<p>"Wife," roared John.</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" observed the Stranger. "Surely? +Very young!"</p> + +<p>He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. +But, before he could have read two lines, he again +interrupted himself, to say:</p> + +<p>"Baby, yours?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an +answer in the affirmative, delivered through a speaking-trumpet.</p> + +<p>"Girl?"</p> + +<p>"Bo-o-oy!" roared John.</p> + +<p>"Also very young, eh?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. "Two +months and three da-ays! Vaccinated just six +weeks ago-o! Took very fine-ly! Considered, by +the doctor, a remarkably beautiful chi-ild! Equal to +the general run of children at five months o-old! +Takes notice, in a way quite won-der-ful! May seem +impossible to you, but feels his legs al-ready!"</p> + +<p>Here the breathless little mother, who had been +shrieking these short sentences into the old man's +ear, until her pretty face was crimsoned, held up the +Baby before him as a stubborn and triumphant fact; +while Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious cry of Ketcher, +Ketcher—which sounded like some unknown words, +adapted to a popular Sneeze—performed some cow-like +gambols round that all unconscious Innocent.</p> + +<p>"Hark! He's called for, sure enough," said John. +"There's somebody at the door. Open it, Tilly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before she could reach it, however, it was opened +from without; being a primitive sort of door, with a +latch, that any one could lift if he chose—and a good +many people did choose, I can tell you; for all kinds +of neighbours liked to have a cheerful word or two +with the Carrier, though he was no great talker for +the matter of that. Being opened, it gave admission +to a little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, who +seemed to have made himself a great-coat from the +sack-cloth covering of some old box; for when he +turned to shut the door, and keep the weather out, +he disclosed upon the back of that garment, the inscription +G & T in large black capitals. Also +the word GLASS in bold characters.</p> + +<p>"Good evening John!" said the little man. +"Good evening Mum. Good evening Tilly. Good +evening Unbeknown! How's Baby Mum? Boxer's +pretty well I hope?"</p> + +<p>"All thriving, Caleb," replied Dot. "I am sure +you need only look at the dear child, for one, to +know that."</p> + +<p>"And I'm sure I need only look at you for +another," said Caleb.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p>He didn't look at her though; for he had a +wandering and thoughtful eye which seemed to be +always projecting itself into some other time and +place, no matter what he said; a description which +will equally apply to his voice.</p> + +<p>"Or at John for another," said Caleb. "Or at +Tilly, as far as that goes. Or certainly at Boxer."</p> + +<p>"Busy just now, Caleb?" asked the Carrier.</p> + +<p>"Why, pretty well John," he returned, with the +distraught air of a man who was casting about for +the Philosopher's stone, at least. "Pretty much so. +There's rather a run on Noah's Arks at present. I +could have wished to improve upon the Family, but I +don't see how it's to be done at the price. It would +be a satisfaction to one's mind, to make it clearer +which was Shems and Hams, and which was Wives. +Flies an't on that scale neither, as compared with +elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got +anything in the parcel line for me John?"</p> + +<p>The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat +he had taken off; and brought out, carefully preserved +in moss and paper, a tiny flower-pot.</p> + +<p>"There it is!" he said, adjusting it with great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +care. "Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of +Buds!"</p> + +<p>Caleb's dull eye brightened, as he took it, and +thanked him.</p> + +<p>"Dear, Caleb," said the Carrier. "Very dear at +this season."</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, +whatever it cost," returned the little man. "Anything +else, John?"</p> + +<p>"A small box," replied the Carrier. "Here you +are!"</p> + +<p>"'For Caleb Plummer,'" said the little man, spelling +out the direction. "'With Cash.' With Cash +John? I don't think it's for me."</p> + +<p>"With Care," returned the Carrier, looking over +his shoulder. "Where do you make out cash?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! To be sure!" said Caleb. "It's all +right. With care! Yes, yes; that's mine. It might +have been with cash, indeed, if my dear Boy in the +Golden South Americas had lived, John. You loved +him like a son; didn't you? You needn't say you +did. <i>I</i> know, of course. 'Caleb Plummer. With +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'care'">Care</ins>.' Yes, yes, it's all right. It's a box of dolls'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +eyes for my daughter's work. I wish it was her own +sight in a box, John."</p> + +<p>"I wish it was, or could be!" cried the +Carrier.</p> + +<p>"Thankee," said the little man. "You speak +very hearty. To think that she should never see the +Dolls; and them a staring at her, so bold, all day +long! That's where it cuts. What's the damage, +John?"</p> + +<p>"I'll damage you," said John, "if you inquire. +Dot! Very near?"</p> + +<p>"Well! it's like you to say so," observed the little +man. "It's your kind way. Let me see. I think +that's all."</p> + +<p>"I think not," said the Carrier. "Try again."</p> + +<p>"Something for our Governor, eh?" said Caleb, +after pondering a little while. "To be sure. That's +what I came for; but my head's so running on +them Arks and things! He hasn't been here, has +he?"</p> + +<p>"Not he," returned the Carrier. "He's too +busy, courting."</p> + +<p>"He's coming round though," said Caleb; "for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +he told me to keep on the near side of the road going +home, and it was ten to one he'd take me up. I +had better go, by the bye.—You couldn't have the +goodness to let me pinch Boxer's tail, Mum, for +half a moment, could you?"</p> + +<p>"Why Caleb! what a question!"</p> + +<p>"Oh never mind, Mum," said the little man. +"He mightn't like it perhaps. There's a small +order just come in, for barking dogs; and I should +wish to go as close to Natur' as I could, for sixpence. +That's all. Never mind Mum."</p> + +<p>It happened opportunely, that Boxer, without +receiving the proposed stimulus, began to bark with +great zeal. But as this implied the approach of +some new visitor, Caleb, postponing his study from +the life to a more convenient season, shouldered the +round box, and took a hurried leave. He might +have spared himself the trouble, for he met the +visitor upon the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a bit. I'll +take you home. John Peerybingle, my service to +you. More of my service to your pretty wife. Handsomer +every day! Better too, if possible! And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +younger," mused the speaker, in a low voice; +"that's the Devil of it."</p> + +<p>"I should be astonished at your paying compliments, +Mr. Tackleton," said Dot, not with the best +grace in the world; "but for your condition."</p> + +<p>"You know all about it then?"</p> + +<p>"I have got myself to believe it, somehow," said +Dot.</p> + +<p>"After a hard struggle, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Very."</p> + +<p>Tackleton the Toy merchant, pretty generally +known as Gruff and Tackleton—for that was the firm, +though Gruff had been bought out long ago; only +leaving his name, and as some said his nature, according +to its Dictionary meaning, in the business—Tackleton +the Toy merchant, was a man whose vocation +had been quite misunderstood by his Parents +and Guardians. If they had made him a Money-Lender, +or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff's Officer, +or a Broker, he might have sown his discontented +oats in his youth, and after having had the full-run of +himself in ill-natured transactions, might have turned +out amiable, at last, for the sake of a little freshness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +and novelty. But, cramped and chafing in the +peaceable pursuit of toy-making, he was a domestic +Ogre, who had been living on children all his life, +and was their implacable enemy. He despised all +toys; wouldn't have bought one for the world; delighted, +in his malice, to insinuate grim expressions +into the faces of brown-paper farmers who drove +pigs to market, bellmen who advertised lost lawyers' +consciences, moveable old ladies who darned stockings +or carved pies; and other like samples of his stock +in trade. In appalling masks; hideous, hairy, red-eyed +Jacks in Boxes; Vampire Kites; demoniacal +Tumblers who wouldn't lie down, and were perpetually +flying forward, to stare infants out of countenance; +his soul perfectly revelled. They were his only +relief, and safety-valve. He was great in such inventions. +Anything suggestive of a Pony-nightmare, +was delicious to him. He had even lost money (and +he took to that toy very kindly) by getting up Goblin +slides for magic lanterns, whereon the Powers of +Darkness were depicted as a sort of supernatural +shell-fish, with human faces. In intensifying the portraiture +of Giants, he had sunk quite a little capital;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +and, though no painter himself, he could indicate, for +the instruction of his artists, with a piece of chalk, +a certain furtive leer for the countenances of those +monsters, that was safe to destroy the peace of mind +of any young gentleman between the ages of six +and eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer +Vacation.</p> + +<p>What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) +in all other things. You may easily suppose, therefore, +that within the great green cape, which +reached down to the calves of his legs, there was +buttoned up to the chin an uncommonly pleasant +fellow; and that he was about as choice a spirit +and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a +pair of bull-headed looking boots with mahogany-colored +tops.</p> + +<p>Still, Tackleton, the Toy merchant, was going to +be married. In spite of all this, he was going to be +married. And to a young wife too; a beautiful +young wife.</p> + +<p>He didn't look much like a Bridegroom, as he +stood in the Carrier's kitchen, with a twist in his dry +face, and a screw in his body, and his hat jerked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +over the bridge of his nose, and his hands stuck down +into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic +ill-conditioned self peering out of one little +corner of one little eye, like the concentrated essence +of any number of ravens. But, a Bridegroom he +designed to be.</p> + +<p>"In three days' time. Next Thursday. The last +day of the first month in the year. That's my wedding-day," +said Tackleton.</p> + +<p>Did I mention that he had always one eye wide +open, and one eye nearly shut; and that the one +eye nearly shut, was always the expressive eye? I +don't think I did.</p> + +<p>"That's my wedding-day!" said Tackleton, +rattling his money.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's our wedding-day too," exclaimed the +Carrier.</p> + +<p>"Ha ha!" laughed Tackleton. "Odd! You're +just such another couple. Just!"</p> + +<p>The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion +is not to be described. What next? His +imagination would compass the possibility of just +such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I say! A word with you," murmured Tackleton, +nudging the Carrier with his elbow, and taking him a +little apart. "You'll come to the wedding? We're +in the same boat, you know."</p> + +<p>"How in the same boat?" inquired the Carrier.</p> + +<p>"A little disparity, you know;" said Tackleton, +with another nudge. "Come and spend an evening +with us, beforehand."</p> + +<p>"Why?" demanded John, astonished at this pressing +hospitality.</p> + +<p>"Why?" returned the other. "That's a new +way of receiving an invitation. Why, for pleasure; +sociability, you know, and all that!"</p> + +<p>"I thought you were never sociable," said John, +in his plain way.</p> + +<p>"Tchah! It's of no use to be anything but +free with you I see," said Tackleton. "Why, +then, the truth is you have a—what tea-drinking +people call a sort of a comfortable appearance together: +you and your wife. We know better, you +know, but—"</p> + +<p>"No, we don't know better," interposed John. +"What are you talking about?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well! We <i>don't</i> know better then," said +Tackleton. "We'll agree that we don't. As you +like; what does it matter? I was going to say, as +you have that sort of appearance, your company will +produce a favorable effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will +be. And though I don't think your good lady's very +friendly to me, in this matter, still she can't help herself +from falling into my views, for there's a compactness +and cosiness of appearance about her that always +tells, even in an indifferent case. You'll say you'll +come?"</p> + +<p>"We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as +far as that goes) at home," said John. "We have +made the promise to ourselves these six months. We +think, you see, that home—"</p> + +<p>"Bah! what's home?" cried Tackleton. "Four +walls and a ceiling! (why don't you kill that Cricket; +<i>I</i> would! I always do. I hate their noise.) There +are four walls and a ceiling at my house. Come +to me!"</p> + +<p>"You kill your Crickets, eh?" said John.</p> + +<p>"Scrunch 'em, sir," returned the other, setting his +heel heavily on the floor. "You'll say you'll come?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +It's as much your interest as mine, you know, that +the women should persuade each other that they're +quiet and contented, and couldn't be better off. I +know their way. Whatever one woman says, another +woman is determined to clinch, always. There's +that spirit of emulation among 'em, Sir, that if +your wife says to my wife, 'I'm the happiest +woman in the world, and mine's the best husband +in the world, and I dote on him,' my wife will +say the same to your's, or more, and half believe +it."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say she don't, then?" asked +the Carrier.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp +laugh. "Don't what?"</p> + +<p>The Carrier had had some faint idea of adding, +"dote upon you." But happening to meet the half-closed +eye, as it twinkled upon him over the turned-up +collar of the cape, which was within an ace of poking +it out, he felt it such an unlikely part and parcel of +anything to be doted on, that he substituted, "that +she don't believe it?"</p> + +<p>"Ah you dog! you're joking," said Tackleton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the Carrier, though slow to understand the +full drift of his meaning, eyed him in such a serious +manner, that he was obliged to be a little more +explanatory.</p> + +<p>"I have the humour," said Tackleton: holding up +the fingers of his left hand, and tapping the forefinger, +to imply 'there I am, Tackleton to wit:' "I +have the humour, Sir, to marry a young wife and a +pretty wife:" here he rapped his little finger, to +express the Bride; not sparingly, but sharply; with +a sense of power. "I'm able to gratify that +humour and I do. It's my whim. But—now look +there."</p> + +<p>He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, +before the fire; leaning her dimpled chin upon her +hand, and watching the bright blaze. The Carrier +looked at her, and then at him, and then at her, and +then at him again.</p> + +<p>"She honors and obeys, no doubt, you know," +said Tackleton; "and that, as I am not a man +of sentiment, is quite enough for <i>me</i>. But do you +think there's anything more in it?"</p> + +<p>"I think," observed the Carrier, "that I should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +chuck any man out of window, who said there +wasn't."</p> + +<p>"Exactly so," returned the other with an unusual +alacrity of assent. "To be sure! Doubtless you +would. Of course. I'm certain of it. Good night. +Pleasant dreams!"</p> + +<p>The good Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable +and uncertain, in spite of himself. He +couldn't help showing it, in his manner.</p> + +<p>"Good night, my dear friend!" said Tackleton, +compassionately. "I'm off. We're exactly alike, in +reality, I see. You won't give us to-morrow evening? +Well! Next day you go out visiting, I know. I'll +meet you there, and bring my wife that is to be. +It'll do her good. You're agreeable? Thankee. +What's that!"</p> + +<p>It was a loud cry from the Carrier's wife; a loud, +sharp, sudden cry, that made the room ring, like +a glass vessel. She had risen from her seat, and +stood like one transfixed by terror and surprise. The +Stranger had advanced towards the fire, to warm +himself, and stood within a short stride of her +chair. But quite still.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dot!" cried the Carrier. "Mary! Darling! +what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who +had been dozing on the cake-box, in the first imperfect +recovery of his suspended presence of mind +seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head; but +immediately apologised.</p> + +<p>"Mary!" exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in +his arms. "Are you ill! what is it? Tell me dear!"</p> + +<p>She only answered by beating her hands together, +and falling into a wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking +from his grasp upon the ground, she covered her face +with her apron, and wept bitterly. And then, she +laughed again; and then, she cried again; and then, +she said how cold it was, and suffered him to lead her +to the fire, where she sat down as before. The old +man standing, as before; quite still.</p> + +<p>"I'm better, John," she said. "I'm quite well +now—I—"</p> + +<p>John! But John was on the other side of her. +Why turn her face towards the strange old gentleman, +as if addressing him! Was her brain wandering?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Only a fancy, John dear—a kind of shock—a +something coming suddenly before my eyes—I don't +know what it was. It's quite gone; quite gone."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad it's gone," muttered Tackleton, turning +the expressive eye all round the room. "I wonder +where it's gone, and what it was. Humph! Caleb, +come here! Who's that with the grey hair?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know Sir," returned Caleb in a whisper. +"Never see him before, in all my life. A beautiful +figure for a nut-cracker; quite a new model. With +a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he'd be +lovely."</p> + +<p>"Not ugly enough," said Tackleton.</p> + +<p>"Or for a firebox, either," observed Caleb, in deep +contemplation, "what a model! Unscrew his head +to put the matches in; turn him heels up'ards for +the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman's +mantel-shelf, just as he stands!"</p> + +<p>"Not half ugly enough," said Tackleton. "Nothing +in him at all. Come! Bring that box! All +right now, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Oh quite gone! Quite gone!" said the little +woman, waving him hurriedly away. "Good night!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good night," said Tackleton. "Good night, +John Peerybingle! Take care how you carry that +box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I'll murder you! Dark +as pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good +night!"</p> + +<p>So, with another sharp look round the room, he +went out at the door; followed by Caleb with the +wedding-cake on his head.</p> + +<p>The Carrier had been so much astounded by his +little wife, and so busily engaged in soothing and +tending her, that he had scarcely been conscious of the +Stranger's presence, until now, when he again stood +there, their only guest.</p> + +<p>"He don't belong to them, you see," said John. +"I must give him a hint to go."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, friend," said the old gentleman, +advancing to him; "the more so, as I fear your +wife has not been well; but the Attendant whom my +infirmity," he touched his ears and shook his head, +"renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, +I fear there must be some mistake. The bad night +which made the shelter of your comfortable cart +(may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, is still as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +bad as ever. Would you, in your kindness, suffer +me to rent a bed here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," cried Dot. "Yes! Certainly!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity +of this consent. "Well! I don't object; but still +I'm not quite sure that—"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she interrupted. "Dear John!"</p> + +<p>"Why, he's stone deaf," urged John.</p> + +<p>"I know he is, but—Yes Sir, certainly. Yes! +certainly! I'll make him up a bed, directly, John."</p> + +<p>As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, +and the agitation of her manner, were so strange, that +the Carrier stood looking after her, quite confounded.</p> + +<p>"Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!" cried +Miss Slowboy to the Baby; "and did its hair grow +brown and curly, when its caps was lifted off, and +frighten it, a precious Pets, a sitting by the fires!"</p> + +<p>With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to +trifles, which is often incidental to a state of doubt +and confusion, the Carrier, as he walked slowly +to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even +these absurd words, many times. So many times +that he got them by heart, and was still conning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +them over, and over, like a lesson, when Tilly, after +administering as much friction to the little bald head +with her hand as she thought wholesome (according +to the practice of nurses), had once more tied the +Baby's cap on.</p> + +<p>"And frighten it a Precious Pets, a sitting by the +fire. What frightened Dot, I wonder!" mused the +Carrier, pacing to and fro.</p> + +<p>He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the +Toy merchant, and yet they filled him with a vague, +indefinite uneasiness; for Tackleton was quick and +sly; and he had that painful sense, himself, of being +a man of slow perception, that a broken hint was +always worrying to him. He certainly had no intention +in his mind of linking anything that Tackleton +had said, with the unusual conduct of his wife; but +the two subjects of reflection came into his mind +together, and he could not keep them asunder.</p> + +<p>The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, +declining all refreshment but a cup of tea, retired. +Then Dot: quite well again, she said: quite well +again: arranged the great chair in the chimney corner +for her husband; filled his pipe and gave it him;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +and took her usual little stool beside him on the +hearth.</p> +<div><a name="John_and_Dot" id="John_and_Dot"></a> +<img src="images/i_064a.png" alt="i064a" width="385" height="163" class="split" /> + +<img src="images/i_064b.png" alt="i064b" width="600" height="641" class="split" /> + +<p>She always <i>would</i> sit on that little stool; I think +she must have had a kind of notion that it was a +coaxing, wheedling, little stool.</p> + +<p>She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, +I should say, in the four quarters of the globe. To +see her put that chubby little finger in the bowl, and +then blow down the pipe to clear the tube; and +when she had done so, affect to think that there was +really something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, +and hold it to her eye like a telescope, with a most +provoking twist in her capital little face, as she +looked down it; was quite a brilliant thing. As to +the tobacco, she was perfect mistress of the subject; +and her lighting of the pipe, with a wisp of paper, +when the Carrier had it in his mouth—going so very +near his nose, and yet not scorching it—was Art: +high Art, Sir.</p> + +<p>And the Cricket and the Kettle, tuning up again, +acknowledged it! The bright fire, blazing up again, +acknowledged it! The little Mower on the clock, in +his unheeded work, acknowledged it! The Carrier,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +in his smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged +it, the readiest of all.</p> + + + +<p>And as he soberly +and thoughtfully +puffed at his +old pipe; and as the Dutch clock ticked; and as the +red fire gleamed; and as the Cricket chirped; that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such the Cricket +was) came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and +summoned many forms of Home about him. Dots of +all ages, and all sizes, filled the chamber. Dots who +were merry children, running on before him, gathering +flowers, in the fields; coy Dots, half shrinking from, +half yielding to, the pleading of his own rough image; +newly-married Dots, alighting at the door, and taking +wondering possession of the household keys; motherly +little Dots, attended by fictitious Slowboys, bearing +babies to be christened; matronly Dots, still young and +blooming, watching Dots of daughters, as they danced +at rustic balls; fat Dots, encircled and beset by troops +of rosy grand-children; withered Dots, who leaned on +sticks, and tottered as they crept along. Old Carriers +too, appeared, with blind old Boxers lying at their +feet; and newer carts with younger drivers ("Peerybingle +Brothers" on the tilt); and sick old Carriers, +tended by the gentlest hands; and graves of dead +and gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. And +as the Cricket showed him all these things—he saw +them plainly, though his eyes were fixed upon the +fire—the Carrier's heart grew light and happy, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, +and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than +you do.</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But what was that young figure of a man, which +the same Fairy Cricket set so near Her stool, and +which remained there, singly and alone? Why did +it linger still, so near her, with its arm upon the +chimney-piece, ever repeating "Married! and not +to me!"</p> + +<p>Oh Dot! Oh failing Dot! There is no place for it +in all your husband's visions; why has its shadow +fallen on his hearth!</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="Chirp_the_Second" id="Chirp_the_Second"></a> +<img src="images/i_067.png" width="600" height="986" alt="CHIRP the SECOND Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> +<div class='unindent'>themselves, as the Story-Books say—and my blessing, +with yours to back it I hope, on the Story-books, +for saying anything in this workaday world!—Caleb +Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived +all alone by themselves, in a little cracked nutshell +of a wooden house, which was, in truth, +no better than a pimple on the prominent red-brick +nose of Gruff and Tackleton. The premises of Gruff +and Tackleton were the great feature of the street; +but you might have knocked down Caleb Plummer's +dwelling with a hammer or two, and carried off the +pieces in a cart.</div> + +<p>If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb +Plummer the honour to miss it after such an inroad, +it would have been, no doubt, to commend its demolition +as a vast improvement. It stuck to the premises +of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship's +keel, or a snail to a door, or a little bunch of toadstools +to the stem of a tree. But it was the germ +from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff and Tackleton +had sprung; and under its crazy roof, the Gruff +before last, had, in a small way, made toys for a +generation of old boys and girls, who had played<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +with them, and found them out, and broken them, +and gone to sleep.</p> + +<p>I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter +lived here; but I should have said that Caleb lived +here, and his poor Blind Daughter somewhere else; +in an enchanted home of Caleb's furnishing, where +scarcity and shabbiness were not, and trouble never +entered. Caleb was no Sorcerer, but in the only magic +art that still remains to us: the magic of devoted, +deathless love: Nature had been the mistress of his +study; and from her teaching, all the wonder came.</p> + +<p>The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discoloured; +walls blotched, and bare of plaster here and +there; high crevices unstopped, and widening every +day; beams mouldering and tending downward. +The Blind Girl never knew that iron was rusting, +wood rotting, paper peeling off; the very size, and +shape, and true proportion of the dwelling, withering +away. The Blind Girl never knew that ugly shapes +of delf and earthenware were on the board; that +sorrow and faint-heartedness were in the house; that +Caleb's scanty hairs were turning greyer and more +grey before her sightless face. The Blind Girl never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +knew they had a master, cold, exacting and uninterested: +never knew that Tackleton was Tackleton +in short; but lived in the belief of an eccentric +humourist who loved to have his jest with them; +and while he was the Guardian Angel of their lives, +disdained to hear one word of thankfulness.</p> + +<p>And all was Caleb's doing; all the doing of her +simple father! But he too had a Cricket on his +Hearth; and listening sadly to its music when the +motherless Blind Child was very young, that Spirit +had inspired him with the thought that even her great +deprivation might be almost changed into a blessing, +and the girl made happy by these little means. For +all the Cricket Tribe are potent Spirits, even though +the people who hold converse with them do not know +it (which is frequently the case); and there are not +in the Unseen World, Voices more gentle and more +true; that may be so implicitly relied on, or that are +so certain to give none but tenderest counsel; as the +Voices in which the Spirits of the Fireside and the +Hearth, address themselves to human kind.</p> + +<p>Caleb and his daughter were at work together in +their usual working-room, which served them for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +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. Suburban +tenements 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 +according to estimate, with a view to the convenience +of Dolls of limited income; 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 and gentry +and public in general, for whose accommodation these +tenements were designed, lay, here and there, in +baskets, staring straight up at the ceiling; but in +denoting their degrees in society, and confining them +to their respective stations (which experience shows +to be lamentably difficult in real life), the makers +of these Dolls had far improved on Nature, who is +often froward and perverse; for they, not resting on +such arbitrary marks as satin, cotton-print, and bits +of rag, had superadded striking personal differences +which allowed of no mistake. Thus, the Doll-lady of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +Distinction had wax limbs of perfect symmetry; but +only she and her compeers; the next grade in the +social scale being made of leather; and the next of +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 sphere 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. By a +bold poetical license, most of these Noah's Arks had +knockers on the doors; inconsistent appendages +perhaps, as suggestive of morning callers 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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +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, not to say venerable appearance, +insanely flying over horizontal 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 thoroughbred rocker on his highest +mettle. As it would have been hard to count the dozens +upon dozens of grotesque figures that were ever +ready to commit all sorts of absurdities, on the +turning of a handle; so it would have been no easy +task to mention any human folly, vice, or weakness, +that had not its type, immediate or remote, in Caleb +Plummer's room. And not in an exaggerated form; +for very little handles will move men and women to as +strange performances, as any Toy was ever made to +undertake.</p> +<div><a name="Caleb_at_Work" id="Caleb_at_Work"></a> +<img src="images/i_074a.png" alt="i064a" width="405" height="243" class="split" /> + +<img src="images/i_074b.png" alt="i064b" width="600" height="618" class="split" /> + +<p>In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his +daughter sat at work. The Blind Girl busy as a +Doll's dressmaker; and Caleb painting and glazing +the four-pair front of a desirable family mansion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + + + +<p>The care imprinted in +the lines of Caleb's face, +and his absorbed +and dreamy +manner, which +would have sat +well on some alchemist or abstruse student, were at +first sight an odd contrast to his occupation, and the +trivialities about him. But trivial things, invented and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +pursued for bread, become very serious matters of +fact; and, apart from this consideration, I am not at +all prepared to say, myself, that if Caleb had been a +Lord Chamberlain, or a Member of Parliament, or a +lawyer, or even a great speculator, he would have +dealt in toys one whit less whimsical; while I have +a very great doubt whether they would have been as +harmless.</p> +</div> +<p>"So you were out in the rain last night, father, +in your beautiful, new, great-coat," said Caleb's +daughter.</p> + +<p>"In my beautiful new great-coat," answered +Caleb, glancing towards a clothes-line in the room, +on which the sackcloth garment previously described, +was carefully hung up to dry.</p> + +<p>"How glad I am you bought it, father!"</p> + +<p>"And of such a tailor, too," said Caleb. +"Quite a fashionable tailor. It's too good for +me."</p> + +<p>The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed +with delight. "Too good, father! What can be +too good for you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm half-ashamed to wear it though," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +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, 'Hal-loa! 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 +exultation!</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 colour 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.</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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +step, and your dark hair: looking so young and +handsome!"</p> + +<p>"Halloa! Halloa!" said Caleb. "I shall be +vain, presently."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</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 counterfeited 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>Heaven knows! But I think Caleb's vague bewilderment +of manner may have half originated in his +having confused himself about himself and everything +around him, for the love of his Blind Daughter. How +could the little man be otherwise than bewildered, +after labouring for so many years to destroy his own +identity, and that of all the objects that had any +bearing on it!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></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 sixpenn'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 deluding +myself, and swindling myself."</p> + +<p>"You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired +father?"</p> + +<p>"Tired," echoed Caleb, with a great burst of animation, +"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 checked +himself in an involuntary imitation of two half length +stretching and yawning figures on the mantel-shelf, +who were represented as in one eternal state of weariness +from the waist upwards; and hummed a fragment +of a song. It was a Bacchanalian song, something +about a Sparkling Bowl; and he sang it with an +assumption of a Devil-may-care voice, that made +his face a thousand times more meagre and more +thoughtful than ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What! you're singing, are you?" said Tackleton, +putting his head in, at the door. "Go it! <i>I</i> can't +sing."</p> + +<p>Nobody would have suspected him of it. 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 +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>"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 <i>he</i> 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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></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 grudging way.</p> + +<p>"Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even +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>"I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to +sleep last night, and remembered it in my dreams. +And when the day broke, and the glorious red sun—the +<i>red</i> sun, father?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha," +said poor Caleb, with a woeful glance at his employer.</p> + +<p>"When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear +to strike myself against in walking, came into the +room, I turned the little tree towards it, and blessed +Heaven for making things so precious, and blessed +you for sending them to cheer me!"</p> + +<p>"Bedlam broke loose!" said Tackleton under his +breath. "We shall arrive at the strait-waistcoat and +mufflers soon. We're getting on!"</p> + +<p>Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, +stared vacantly before him while his daughter spoke, +as if he really were uncertain (I believe he was) whether +Tackleton had done anything to deserve her +thanks, or not. If he could have been a perfectly +free agent, at that moment, required, on pain of death, +to kick the Toy merchant, or fall at his feet, according +to his merits, I believe it would have been an even +chance which course he would have taken. Yet +Caleb knew that with his own hands he had brought +the little rose tree home for her, so carefully; and that +with his own lips he had forged the innocent deception +which should help to keep her from suspecting how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +much, how very much, he every day denied himself, +that she might be the happier.</p> + +<p>"Bertha!" said Tackleton, assuming, for the +nonce, 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 fantastic Pic-Nic here; an't +it?" said Tackleton, with a strong expression of +distaste for the whole concern.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Bertha. "This is the day."</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 an ecstacy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I hear it," murmured Caleb, with the +fixed look of a sleep-walker; "but I don't believe +it. It's one of my lies, I've no doubt."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></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 con-founded idiot," muttered +Tackleton, "that I was afraid she'd never comprehend +me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, parson, +clerk, beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, +favours, marrow-bones, cleavers, and all the rest of +the tom-foolery. 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 to +join the party, and to bring May and her mother. +I'll send in a little something or other, before the +afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, or 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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></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 an'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 and 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>It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some +time, in yoking a team of horses to a waggon by the +summary process of nailing the harness to the vital<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +parts of their bodies, that she drew near to his +working-stool, and sitting down beside him, said:</p> + +<p>"Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my +eyes: my patient, willing eyes."</p> + +<p>"Here they are," said Caleb. "Always ready. +They are more your's 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 old crazy +shed which Caleb's fancy so transformed.</p> + +<p>"You have your working dress on, and are not so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +gallant as when you wear the handsome coat?" said +Bertha, touching him.</p> + +<p>"Not quite so gallant," 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 +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; his infallible resource in all such difficulties.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Our friend, father; our benefactor. 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 so pure, could not endure to meet her +face; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have read +in them his innocent deceit.</p> + +<p>"Then, tell me again about him, dear father," +said Bertha. "Many times again! His face is +benevolent, kind, and tender. Honest and true, I +am sure it is. The manly heart that tries to cloak +all favours 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>"Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +in infirmity and age; to be his gentle nurse in sickness, +and his constant friend in suffering and sorrow; +to know no weariness in working for his sake; to +watch him, tend him; sit beside his bed, and talk to +him, awake; and pray for him asleep; what privileges +these would be! What opportunities for proving +all her truth and her devotion to him! Would +she do all this, dear father?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt of it," said Caleb.</p> + +<p>"I love her, father; I can love her from my +soul!" exclaimed the Blind Girl. And saying so, +she laid her poor blind face on Caleb's shoulder, and +so wept and wept, that he was almost sorry to have +brought that tearful happiness upon her.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp +commotion at John Peerybingle's; for little Mrs. +Peerybingle naturally couldn't think of going anywhere +without the Baby; and to get the Baby under +weigh, took time. Not that there was much of the +Baby: speaking of it as a thing of weight and +measure: but there was a vast deal to do about and +about it, and it all had to be done by easy stages. +For instance: when the Baby was got, by hook and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +by crook, to a certain point of dressing, and you +might have rationally supposed that another touch or +two would finish him off, and turn him out a tip-top +Baby, challenging the world, he was unexpectedly +extinguished in a flannel cap, and hustled off to bed; +where he simmered (so to speak) between two blankets +for the best part of an hour. From this state of +inaction he was then recalled, shining very much and +roaring violently, to partake of—well! I would rather +say, if you'll permit me to speak generally—of a +slight repast. After which, he went to sleep again. +Mrs. Peerybingle took advantage of this interval, to +make herself as smart in a small way as ever you saw +anybody in all your life; and during the same short +truce, Miss Slowboy insinuated herself into a spencer +of a fashion so surprising and ingenious, that it had +no connection with herself or anything else in the +universe, but was a shrunken, dog's-eared, independent +fact, pursuing its lonely course without the least +regard to anybody. By this time, the Baby, being +all alive again, was invested, by the united efforts of +Mrs. Peerybingle and Miss Slowboy, with a cream-coloured +mantle for its body, and a sort of nankeen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +raised-pie for its head; and so in course of time they +all three got down to the door, where the old horse +had already taken more than the full value of his +day's toll out of the Turnpike Trust, by tearing up +the road with his impatient autographs—and whence +Boxer might be dimly seen in the remote perspective, +standing looking back, and tempting him to come on +without orders.</p> + +<p>As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping +Mrs. Peerybingle into the cart, you know very little +of John, I flatter myself, if you think <i>that</i> was necessary. +Before you could have seen him lift her from +the ground, there she was in her place, fresh and rosy, +saying, "John! How can you! Think of Tilly!"</p> + +<p>If I might be allowed to mention a young lady's +legs, on any terms, I would observe of Miss Slowboy's +that there was a fatality about them which rendered +them singularly liable to be grazed; and that she +never effected the smallest ascent or descent, without +recording the circumstance upon them with a notch, +as Robinson Crusoe marked the days upon his wooden +calendar. But as this might be considered ungenteel, +I'll think of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"John? You've got the basket with the Veal +and Ham-Pie and things; and the bottles of Beer?" +said Dot. "If you haven't, you must turn round +again, this very minute."</p> + +<p>"You're a nice little article," returned the Carrier, +"to be talking about turning round, after keeping me +a full quarter of an hour behind my time."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for it, John," said Dot in a great +bustle, "but I really could not think of going to +Bertha's—I wouldn't do it, John, on any account—without +the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the +bottles of Beer. Way!"</p> + +<p>This monosyllable was addressed to the Horse, who +didn't mind it at all.</p> + +<p>"Oh <i>do</i> Way, John!" said Mrs. Peerybingle. +"Please!"</p> + +<p>"It'll be time enough to do that," returned John, +"when I begin to leave things behind me. The +basket's here, safe enough."</p> + +<p>"What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, +not to have said so, at once, and saved me such a +turn! I declare I wouldn't go to Bertha's without +the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +of Beer, for any money. Regularly once a fortnight +ever since we have been married, John, have we made +our little Pic-Nic there. If anything was to go wrong +with it, I should almost think we were never to be +lucky again."</p> + +<p>"It was a kind thought in the first instance," said +the Carrier; "and I honour you for it, little woman."</p> + +<p>"My dear John," replied Dot, turning very red. +"Don't talk about honouring <i>me</i>. Good Gracious!"</p> + +<p>"By the bye—" observed the Carrier. "That old +gentleman,"—</p> + +<p>Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"He's an odd fish," said the Carrier, looking +straight along the road before them. "I can't make +him out. I don't believe there's any harm in him."</p> + +<p>"None at all. I'm—I'm sure there's none at all."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted +to her face by the great earnestness of her manner. +"I am glad you feel so certain of it, because it's +a confirmation to me. It's curious that he should +have taken it into his head to ask leave to go on +lodging with us; an't it? Things come about so +strangely."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So very strangely," she rejoined in a low voice: +scarcely audible.</p> + +<p>"However, he's a good-natured old gentleman," +said John, "and pays as a gentleman, and I think +his word is to be relied upon, like a gentleman's. I +had quite a long talk with him this morning: he can +hear me better already, he says, as he gets more used +to my voice. He told me a great deal about himself, +and I told him a good deal about myself, and a rare +lot of questions he asked me. I gave him information +about my having two beats, you know, in my +business; one day to the right from our house and +back again; another day to the left from our house +and back again (for he's a stranger and don't know +the names of places about here); and he seemed quite +pleased. 'Why, then I shall be returning home +to-night your way,' he says, 'when I thought you'd +be coming in an exactly opposite direction. That's +capital. I may trouble you for another lift perhaps, +but I'll engage not to fall so sound asleep again.' He +<i>was</i> sound asleep, sure-ly!—Dot! what are you thinking +of?"</p> + +<p>"Thinking of, John? I—I was listening to you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! That's all right!" said the honest Carrier. +"I was afraid, from the look of your face, that I had +gone rambling on so long, as to set you thinking +about something else. I was very near it, I'll be bound."</p> + +<p>Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little +time, in silence. But it was not easy to remain silent +very long in John Peerybingle's cart, for everybody on +the road had something to say; and though it might +only be "How are you!" and indeed it was very +often nothing else, still, to give that back again in the +right spirit of cordiality, required, not merely a nod and +a smile, but as wholesome an action of the lungs withal, +as a long-winded Parliamentary speech. Sometimes, +passengers on foot, or horseback, plodded on a little +way beside the cart, for the express purpose of having +a chat; and then there was a great deal to be said, +on both sides.</p> + +<p>Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured +recognitions of and by the Carrier, than half a dozen +Christians could have done! Everybody knew him, +all along the road, especially the fowls and pigs, who +when they saw him approaching, with his body all on +one side, and his ears pricked up inquisitively, and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +knob of a tail making the most of itself in the air, +immediately withdrew into remote back settlements, +without waiting for the honor of a nearer acquaintance. +He had business everywhere; going down all the +turnings, looking into all the wells, bolting in and out +of all the cottages, dashing into the midst of all the +Dame-Schools, fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying +the tails of all the cats, and trotting into the public +houses like a regular customer. Wherever he went, +somebody or other might have been heard to cry, +"Halloa! Here's Boxer!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 455px;"><a name="Boxer" id="Boxer"></a> +<img src="images/i_095.png" width="455" height="271" alt="Boxer" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>and out came that somebody forthwith, accompanied +by at least two or three other somebodies, to give +John Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day.</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>The packages and parcels for the errand cart, were +numerous; and there were many stoppages to take +them in and give them out; which were not by any +means the worst parts of the journey. Some people +were so full of expectation about their parcels, and +other people were so full of wonder about their +parcels, and other people were so full of inexhaustible +directions about their parcels, and John had such a +lively interest in all the parcels, that it was as good +as a play. Likewise, there were articles to carry, +which required to be considered and discussed, and +in reference to the adjustment and disposition of which, +councils had to be holden by the Carrier and the +senders: at which Boxer usually assisted, in short fits +of the closest attention, and long fits of tearing round +and round the assembled sages and barking himself +hoarse. Of all these little incidents, Dot was the +amused and open-eyed spectatress from her chair in +the cart; and as she sat there, looking on: a charming +little portrait framed to admiration by the tilt: +there was no lack of nudgings and glancings and +whisperings and envyings among the younger men, +I promise you. And this delighted John the Carrier,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +beyond measure; for he was proud to have his little +wife admired; knowing that she didn't mind it—that, +if anything, she rather liked it perhaps.</p> + +<p>The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the +January weather; and was raw and cold. But who +cared for such trifles? Not Dot, decidedly. Not +Tilly Slowboy, for she deemed sitting in a cart, on +any terms, to be the highest point of human joys; the +crowning circumstance of earthly hopes. Not the +Baby, I'll be sworn; for it's not in Baby nature to be +warmer or more sound asleep, though its capacity +is great in both respects, than that blessed young +Peerybingle was, all the way.</p> + +<p>You couldn't see very far in the fog, of course; +but you could see a great deal, oh a great deal! It's +astonishing how much you may see, in a thicker fog +than that, if you will only take the trouble to look for +it. Why, even to sit watching for the Fairy-rings in +the fields, and for the patches of hoar-frost still +lingering in the shade, near hedges and by trees, was +a pleasant occupation: to make no mention of the +unexpected shapes in which the trees themselves +came starting out of the mist, and glided into it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +again. The hedges were tangled and bare, and +waved a multitude of blighted garlands in the wind; +but there was no discouragement in this. It was +agreeable to contemplate; for it made the fireside +warmer in possession, and the summer greener in +expectancy. The river looked chilly; but it was in +motion, and moving at a good pace; which was a +great point. The canal was rather slow and torpid; +that must be admitted. Never mind. It would +freeze the sooner when the frost set fairly in, and +then there would be skating, and sliding; and the +heavy old barges, frozen up somewhere, near a wharf, +would smoke their rusty iron chimney-pipes all day, +and have a lazy time of it.</p> + +<p>In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or +stubble burning; and they watched the fire, so white +in the day time, flaring through the fog, with only +here and there a dash of red in it, until, in consequence +as she observed of the smoke "getting +up her nose," Miss Slowboy choked—she could do +anything of that sort, on the smallest provocation—and +woke the Baby, who wouldn't go to sleep again. +But Boxer, who was in advance some quarter of a mile<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +or so, had already passed the outposts of the town, and +gained the corner of the street where Caleb and his +daughter lived; and long before they reached the +door, he and the Blind Girl were on the pavement +waiting to receive them.</p> + +<p>Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions +of his own, in his communication with Bertha, which +persuade me fully that he knew her to be blind. He +never sought to attract her attention by looking at +her, as he often did with other people, but touched +her, invariably. What experience he could ever have +had of blind people or blind dogs, I don't know. He +had never lived with a blind master; nor had Mr. +Boxer the elder, nor Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his +respectable family on either side, ever been visited +with blindness, that I am aware of. He may have +found it out for himself, perhaps, but he had got hold +of it somehow; and therefore he had hold of Bertha +too, by the skirt, and kept hold, until Mrs. Peerybingle +and the Baby, and Miss Slowboy, and the +basket, were all got safely within doors.</p> + +<p>May Fielding was already come; and so was her +mother—a little querulous chip of an old lady with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +peevish face, who, in right of having preserved a +waist like a bedpost, was supposed to be a most +transcendant figure; and who, in consequence of +having once been better off, or of labouring under +an impression that she might have been, if something +had happened which never did happen, and seemed +to have never been particularly likely to come to pass—but +it's all the same—was very genteel and patronising +indeed. Gruff and Tackleton was also there, +doing the agreeable; with the evident sensation of +being as perfectly at home, and as unquestionably in +his own element, as a fresh young salmon on the top +of the Great Pyramid.</p> + +<p>"May! My dear old friend!" cried Dot, running +up to meet her. "What a happiness to see you!"</p> + +<p>Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad +as she; and it really was, if you'll believe me, quite +a pleasant sight to see them embrace. Tackleton +was a man of taste, beyond all question. May was +very pretty.</p> + +<p>You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty +face, how, when it comes into contact and comparison +with another pretty face, it seems for the moment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve the high +opinion you have had of it. Now, this was not at all +the case, either with Dot or May; for May's face +set off Dot's, and Dot's face set off May's, so +naturally and agreeably, that, as John Peerybingle +was very near saying when he came into the room, +they ought to have been born sisters: which was the +only improvement you could have suggested.</p> + +<p>Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, +wonderful to relate, a tart besides—but we don't mind +a little dissipation when our brides are in the case; +we don't get married every day—and in addition to +these dainties, there were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and +"things," as Mrs. Peerybingle called them; which +were chiefly nuts and oranges, and cakes, and such +small deer. When the repast was set forth on the +board, flanked by Caleb's contribution, which was a +great wooden bowl of smoking potatoes (he was prohibited, +by solemn compact, from producing any other +viands), Tackleton led his intended mother-in-law to +the Post of Honour. For the better gracing of this +place at the high Festival, the majestic old Soul had +adorned herself with a cap, calculated to inspire the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +thoughtless with sentiments of awe. She also wore +her gloves. But let us be genteel, or die!</p> + +<p>Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old +schoolfellow were side by side; the good Carrier took +care of the bottom of the table. Miss Slowboy was +isolated, for the time being, from every article of +furniture but the chair she sat on, that she might +have nothing else to knock the Baby's head against.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a name="Tilly_Slowboy" id="Tilly_Slowboy"></a> +<img src="images/i_102.png" width="400" height="407" alt="Tilly" title="Tilly" /> +</div> + +<p>As Tilly stared about her at the Dolls and Toys, +they stared at her and at the company. The venerable +old gentlemen at the street doors (who were all +in full action) showed especial interest in the party: +pausing occasionally before leaping, as if they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +listening to the conversation: and then plunging +wildly over and over, a great many times, without +halting for breath,—as in a frantic state of delight +with the whole proceedings.</p> + +<p>Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to +have a fiendish joy in the contemplation of Tackleton's +discomfiture, they had good reason to be +satisfied. Tackleton couldn't get on at all; and the +more cheerful his intended Bride became in Dot's +society, the less he liked it, though he had brought +them together for that purpose. For he was a +regular Dog in the Manger, was Tackleton; and when +they laughed, and he couldn't, he took it into his +head, immediately, that they must be laughing at him.</p> + +<p>"Ah May!" said Dot. "Dear dear, what +changes! To talk of those merry school-days makes +one young again."</p> + +<p>"Why, you an't particularly old, at any time; are +you?" said Tackleton.</p> + +<p>"Look at my sober, plodding husband there," +returned Dot. "He adds Twenty years to my age +at least. Don't you John?"</p> + +<p>"Forty," John replied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How many <i>you</i>'ll add to May's, I am sure I +don't know," said Dot, laughing. "But she can't +be much less than a hundred years of age on her +next birthday."</p> + +<p>"Ha ha!" laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a +drum, that laugh though. And he looked as if he +could have twisted Dot's neck: comfortably.</p> + +<p>"Dear dear!" said Dot. "Only to remember how +we used to talk, at school, about the husbands we +would choose. I don't know how young, and how +handsome, and how gay, and how lively, mine was not +to be! and as to May's!—Ah dear! I don't know +whether to laugh or cry, when I think what silly girls +we were."</p> + +<p>May seemed to know which to do; for the color +flashed into her face, and tears stood in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Even the very persons themselves—real live +young men—we fixed on sometimes," said Dot. +"We little thought how things would come about. I +never fixed on John I'm sure; I never so much as +thought of him. And if I had told you, you were +ever to be married to Mr. Tackleton, why you'd have +slapped me. Wouldn't you, May?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>Though May didn't say yes, she certainly didn't +say no, or express no, by any means.</p> + +<p>Tackleton laughed—quite shouted, he laughed so +loud. John Peerybingle laughed too, in his ordinary +good-natured and contented manner; but his was a +mere whisper of a laugh, to Tackleton's.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't help yourselves, for all that. You +couldn't resist us, you see," said Tackleton. "Here +we are! Here we are! Where are your gay young +bridegrooms now!"</p> + +<p>"Some of them are dead," said Dot; "and +some of them forgotten. Some of them, if they +could stand among us at this moment, would not +believe we were the same creatures; would not +believe that what they saw and heard was real, and +we <i>could</i> forget them so. No! they would not believe +one word of it!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Dot!" exclaimed the Carrier. "Little +woman!"</p> + +<p>She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, +that she stood in need of some recalling to herself, +without doubt. Her husband's check was very gentle, +for he merely interfered, as he supposed, to shield old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +Tackleton; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, +and said no more. There was an uncommon agitation, +even in her silence, which the wary Tackleton, +who had brought his half-shut eye to bear upon her, +noted closely; and remembered to some purpose too, +as you will see.</p> + +<p>May uttered no word, good or bad, but sat quite +still, with her eyes cast down; and made no sign of +interest in what had passed. The good lady her +mother now interposed: observing, in the first instance, +that girls were girls, and byegones byegones, and +that so long as young people were young and thoughtless, +they would probably conduct themselves like young +and thoughtless persons: with two or three other +positions of a no less sound and incontrovertible character. +She then remarked, in a devout spirit, that +she thanked Heaven she had always found in her +daughter May, a dutiful and obedient child; for which +she took no credit to herself, though she had every +reason to believe it was entirely owing to herself. +With regard to Mr. Tackleton she said, That he was +in a moral point of view an undeniable individual; and +That he was in an eligible point of view a son-in-law<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +to be desired, no one in their senses could doubt. +(She was very emphatic here). With regard to +the family into which he was so soon about, after +some solicitation, to be admitted, she believed Mr. +Tackleton knew that, although reduced in purse, it +had some pretensions to gentility; and that if certain +circumstances, not wholly unconnected, she would go so +far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to which she +would not more particularly refer, had happened differently, +it might perhaps have been in possession of +Wealth. She then remarked that she would not +allude to the past, and would not mention that her +daughter had for some time rejected the suit of +Mr. Tackleton; and that she would not say a great +many other things which she did say, at great length. +Finally, she delivered it as the general result of her +observation and experience, that those marriages in +which there was least of what was romantically and +sillily called love, were always the happiest; and that +she anticipated the greatest possible amount of bliss—not +rapturous bliss; but the solid, steady-going +article—from the approaching nuptials. She concluded +by informing the company that to-morrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +was the day she had lived for, expressly; and that +when it was over, she would desire nothing better +than to be packed up and disposed of, in any genteel +place of burial.</p> + +<p>As these remarks were quite unanswerable: which +is the happy property of all remarks that are sufficiently +wide of the purpose: they changed the current +of the conversation, and diverted the general attention +to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold mutton, the potatoes, +and the tart. In order that the bottled beer might +not be slighted, John Peerybingle proposed To-morrow: +the Wedding-Day: and called upon them to drink +a bumper to it, before he proceeded on his journey.</p> + +<p>For you ought to know that he only rested there, +and gave the old horse a bait. He had to go some +four or five miles farther on; and when he returned +in the evening, he called for Dot, and took another +rest on his way home. This was the order of the day +on all the Pic-Nic occasions, and had been ever since +their institution.</p> + +<p>There were two persons present, besides the bride +and bridegroom elect, who did but indifferent honour +to the toast. One of these was Dot, too flushed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +discomposed to adapt herself to any small occurrence +of the moment; the other Bertha, who rose up +hurriedly, before the rest, and left the table.</p> + +<p>"Good bye!" said stout John Peerybingle, pulling +on his dreadnought coat. "I shall be back at the +old time. Good bye all!"</p> + +<p>"Good bye John," returned Caleb.</p> + +<p>He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand +in the same unconscious manner; for he stood observing +Bertha with an anxious wondering face, that +never altered its expression.</p> + +<p>"Good bye young shaver!" said the jolly Carrier, +bending down to kiss the child; which Tilly Slowboy, +now intent upon her knife and fork, had deposited +asleep (and strange to say, without damage) in a little +cot of Bertha's furnishing; "good bye! Time will +come, I suppose, when <i>you</i>'ll turn out into the cold, +my little friend, and leave your old father to enjoy his +pipe and his rheumatics in the chimney-corner; eh? +Where's Dot?"</p> + +<p>"I'm here John!" she said, starting.</p> + +<p>"Come, come!" returned the Carrier, clapping his +sounding hands. "Where's the Pipe?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I quite forgot the pipe, John."</p> + +<p>Forgot the Pipe! Was such a wonder ever +heard of! She! Forgot the Pipe!</p> + +<p>"I'll—I'll fill it directly. It's soon done."</p> + +<p>But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the +usual place; the Carrier's dreadnought pocket; with +the little pouch, her own work; from which she was +used to fill it; but her hand shook so, that she +entangled it (and yet her hand was small enough to +have come out easily, I am sure), and bungled terribly. +The filling of the Pipe and lighting it; those little +offices in which I have commended her discretion, if +you recollect; were vilely done, from first to last. +During the whole process, Tackleton stood looking +on maliciously with the half-closed eye; which, whenever +it met her's—or caught it, for it can hardly be +said to have ever met another eye: rather being a +kind of trap to snatch it up—augmented her confusion +in a most remarkable degree.</p> + +<p>"Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!" +said John. "I could have done it better myself, I +verily believe!"</p> + +<p>With these good-natured words, he strode away;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +and presently was heard, in company with Boxer, and +the old horse, and the cart, making lively music down +the road. What time the dreamy Caleb still stood, +watching his Blind Daughter, with the same expression +on his face.</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.</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 fulness. Never! I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +sometimes wished that I could see you, or could see +him; only once, dear father; only for one little +minute; that I might know what it is I treasure up," +she laid her hands upon her breast, "and hold +here! That I might be sure I have it right! And +sometimes (but then I was a child) I have wept, in +my prayers at night, to think that when your images +ascended from my heart to Heaven, they might not +be the true resemblance of yourselves. But I have +never had these feelings long. They have passed +away, and left me tranquil and contented."</p> + +<p>"And they will again," said Caleb.</p> + +<p>"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>Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes +overflow; she was so earnest and pathetic. But he +did not understand her, yet.</p> + +<p>"Bring her to me," said Bertha. "I cannot +hold it closed and shut within myself. Bring her to +me, father!"</p> + +<p>She knew he hesitated, and said, "May. Bring +May!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>May heard the mention of her name, and coming +quietly towards her, touched her on the arm. The +Blind Girl turned immediately, and held her by both +hands.</p> + +<p>"Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!" +said Bertha. "Read it with your beautiful eyes, and +tell me if the Truth is written on it."</p> + +<p>"Dear Bertha, Yes!"</p> + +<p>The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless +face, down which the tears were coursing fast, addressed +her in these words:</p> + +<p>"There is not, in my Soul, a wish or thought +that is not for your good, bright May! There is +not, in my Soul, a grateful recollection stronger than +the deep remembrance which is stored there, of the +many many times when, in the full pride of Sight and +Beauty, you have had consideration for Blind Bertha, +even when we two were children, or when Bertha was +as much a child as ever blindness can be! Every +blessing on your head! Light upon your happy +course! Not the less, my dear May;" and she +drew towards her, in a closer grasp; "not the less, +my Bird, because, to-day, the knowledge that you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +are to be His wife has wrung my heart almost to +breaking! Father, May, Mary! oh forgive me that +it is so, for the sake of all he has done to relieve the +weariness of my dark life: and for the sake of the +belief you have in me, when I call Heaven to witness +that I could not wish him married to a wife more +worthy of his Goodness!"</p> + +<p>While speaking, she had released May Fielding's +hands, and clasped her garments in an attitude of +mingled supplication and love. Sinking lower and +lower down, as she proceeded in her strange confession, +she dropped at last at the feet of her friend, and +hid her blind face in the folds of her dress.</p> + +<p>"Great Power!" exclaimed her father, smitten +at one blow with the truth, "have I deceived +her from her cradle, but to break her heart at +last!"</p> + +<p>It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, +useful, busy little Dot—for such she was, whatever +faults she had; however you may learn to hate her, +in good time—it was well for all of them, I say, that +she was there: or where this would have ended, it +were hard to tell. But Dot, recovering her self-possession,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +interposed, before May could reply, or +Caleb say another word.</p> + +<p>"Come come, dear Bertha! come away with me! +Give her your arm, May. So! How composed she +is, you see, already; and how good it is of her to +mind us," said the cheery little woman, kissing her +upon the forehead. "Come away, dear Bertha! +Come! and here's her good father will come with +her; won't you, Caleb? To—be—sure!"</p> + +<p>Well, well! she was a noble little Dot in such +things, and it must have been an obdurate nature that +could have withstood her influence. When she had +got poor Caleb and his Bertha away, that they might +comfort and console each other, as she knew they only +could, she presently came bouncing back,—the saying +is, as fresh as any daisy; <i>I</i> say fresher—to mount +guard over that bridling little piece of consequence in +the cap and gloves, and prevent the dear old creature +from making discoveries.</p> + +<p>"So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly," said she, +drawing a chair to the fire; "and while I have it in +my lap, here's Mrs. Fielding, Tilly, will tell me all +about the management of Babies, and put me right in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +twenty points where I'm as wrong as can be. Won't +you, Mrs. Fielding?"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 351px;"><a name="Mrs_Fieldings_Lecture" id="Mrs_Fieldings_Lecture"></a> +<img src="images/i_116.png" width="351" height="500" alt="Visiting with Mrs. Fielding" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the +popular expression, was so "slow" as to perform a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +fatal surgical operation upon himself, in emulation of +a juggling-trick achieved by his arch-enemy at breakfast-time; +not even he fell half so readily into the +Snare prepared for him, as the old lady into this artful +Pitfall. The fact of Tackleton having walked out; +and furthermore, of two or three people having been +talking together at a distance, for two minutes, leaving +her to her own resources; was quite enough to +have put her on her dignity, and the bewailment of +that mysterious convulsion in the Indigo trade, for +four-and-twenty hours. But this becoming deference +to her experience, on the part of the young mother, +was so irresistible, that after a short affectation of +humility, she began to enlighten her with the best +grace in the world; and sitting bolt upright before +the wicked Dot, she did, in half an hour, deliver +more infallible domestic recipes and precepts, than +would (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and done +up that Young Peerybingle, though he had been an +Infant Samson.</p> + +<p>To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework—she +carried the contents of a whole workbox in her +pocket; how ever she contrived it, <i>I</i> don't know—then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +did a little nursing; then a little more needlework; +then had a little whispering chat with May, +while the old lady dozed; and so in little bits of +bustle, which was quite her manner always, found it +a very short afternoon. Then, as it grew dark, and +as it was a solemn part of this Institution of the Pic-Nic +that she should perform all Bertha's household +tasks, she trimmed the fire, and swept the hearth, +and set the tea-board out, and drew the curtain, and +lighted a candle. Then, she played an air or two on +a rude kind of harp, which Caleb had contrived for +Bertha; and played them very well; for Nature had +made her delicate little ear as choice a one for music +as it would have been for jewels, if she had had any +to wear. By this time it was the established hour +for having tea; and Tackleton came back again, to +share the meal, and spend the evening.</p> + +<p>Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, +and Caleb had sat down to his afternoon's work. +But he couldn't settle to it, poor fellow, being anxious +and remorseful for his daughter. It was touching to +see him sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding +her so wistfully; and always saying in his face,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +"have I deceived her from her cradle, but to break +her heart!"</p> + +<p>When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had +nothing more to do in washing up the cups and +saucers; in a word—for I must come to it, and there +is no use in putting it off—when the time drew nigh +for expecting the Carrier's return in every sound of +distant wheels; her manner changed again; her +colour came and went; and she was very restless. +Not as good wives are, when listening for their husbands. +No, no, no. It was another sort of restlessness +from that.</p> + +<p>Wheels heard. A horse's feet. The barking of a +dog. The gradual approach of all the sounds. The +scratching paw of Boxer at the door!</p> + +<p>"Whose step is that!" cried Bertha, starting +up.</p> + +<p>"Whose step?" returned the Carrier, standing in +the portal, with his brown face ruddy as a winter +berry from the keen night air. "Why, mine."</p> + +<p>"The other step," said Bertha. "The man's tread +behind you!"</p> + +<p>"She is not to be deceived," observed the Carrier,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +laughing. "Come along Sir. You'll be welcome, +never fear!"</p> + +<p>He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the +deaf old gentleman entered.</p> + +<p>"He's not so much a stranger, that you haven't +seen him once, Caleb," said the Carrier. "You'll +give him house-room till we go?"</p> + +<p>"Oh surely John; and take it as an honour."</p> + +<p>"He's the best company on earth, to talk secrets +in," said John. "I have reasonable good lungs, but +he tries 'em, I can tell you. Sit down Sir. All +friends here, and glad to see you!"</p> + +<p>When he had imparted this assurance, in a voice +that amply corroborated what he had said about his +lungs, he added in his natural tone, "A chair in the +chimney-corner, and leave to sit quite silent and look +pleasantly about him, is all he cares for. He's easily +pleased."</p> + +<p>Bertha had been listening intently. She called +Caleb to her side, when he had set the chair, and +asked him, in a low voice, to describe their visitor. +When he had done so (truly now; with scrupulous +fidelity), she moved, for the first time since he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +come in; and sighed; and seemed to have no further +interest concerning him.</p> + +<p>The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that +he was; and fonder of his little wife than ever.</p> + +<p>"A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!" he +said, encircling her with his rough arm, as she stood, +removed from the rest; "and yet I like her somehow. +See yonder, Dot!"</p> + +<p>He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I +think she trembled.</p> + +<p>"He's—ha ha ha!—he's full of admiration for +you!" said the Carrier. "Talked of nothing else, +the whole way here. Why, he's a brave old boy. I +like him for it!"</p> + +<p>"I wish he had had a better subject, John;" +she said, with an uneasy glance about the room; at +Tackleton especially.</p> + +<p>"A better subject!" cried the jovial John. +"There's no such thing. Come! off with the great-coat, +off with the thick shawl, off with the heavy +wrappers! and a cosy half-hour by the fire! My +humble service, Mistress. A game at cribbage, you +and I? That's hearty. The cards and board, Dot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +And a glass of beer here, if there's any left, small +wife!"</p> + +<p>His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who +accepting it with gracious readiness, they were soon +engaged upon the game. At first, the Carrier looked +about him sometimes, with a smile, or now and then +called Dot to peep over his shoulder at his hand, and +advise him on some knotty point. But his adversary +being a rigid disciplinarian, and subject to an occasional +weakness in respect of pegging more than she +was entitled to, required such vigilance on his part, +as left him neither eyes nor ears to spare. Thus, his +whole attention gradually became absorbed upon the +cards; and he thought of nothing else, until a hand +upon his shoulder restored him to a consciousness of +Tackleton.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to disturb you—but a word, directly."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to deal," returned the Carrier. "It's +a crisis."</p> + +<p>"It is," said Tackleton. "Come here, man!"</p> + +<p>There was that in his pale face which made the +other rise immediately, and ask him, in a hurry, +what the matter was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hush! John Peerybingle," said Tackleton. "I +am sorry for this. I am indeed. I have been afraid +of it. I have suspected it from the first."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" asked the Carrier, with a frightened +aspect.</p> + +<p>"Hush! I'll show you, if you'll come with me."</p> + +<p>The Carrier accompanied him, without another +word. They went across a yard, where the stars were +shining; and by a little side door, into Tackleton's +own counting-house, where there was a glass window, +commanding the ware-room: which was closed for the +night. There was no light in the counting-house +itself, but there were lamps in the long narrow +ware-room; and consequently the window was +bright.</p> + +<p>"A moment!" said Tackleton. "Can you bear +to look through that window, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" returned the Carrier.</p> + +<p>"A moment more," said Tackleton. "Don't +commit any violence. It's of no use. It's dangerous +too. You're a strong-made man; and you might +do Murder before you know it."</p> + +<p>The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +step as if he had been struck. In one stride he was +at the window, and he saw—</p> + +<p>Oh Shadow on the Hearth! Oh truthful Cricket! +Oh perfidious Wife!</p> + +<p>He saw her, with the old man; old no longer, but +erect and gallant: bearing in his hand the false +white hair that had won his way into their desolate +and miserable home. He saw her listening to him, +as he bent his head to whisper in her ear; and suffering +him to clasp her round the waist, as they moved +slowly down the dim wooden gallery towards the door +by which they had entered it. He saw them stop, +and saw her turn——to have the face, the face he +loved so, so presented to his view!—--and saw her, +with her own hands, adjust the Lie upon his head, +laughing, as she did it, at his unsuspicious nature!</p> + +<p>He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it +would have beaten down a lion. But opening it immediately +again, he spread it out before the eyes of +Tackleton (for he was tender of her, even then), and +so, as they passed out, fell down upon a desk, and +was as weak as any infant.</p> + +<p>He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +horse and parcels, when she came into the room, prepared +for going home.</p> + +<p>"Now John, dear! Good night May! Good +night Bertha!"</p> + +<p>Could she kiss them? Could she be blithe and +cheerful in her parting? Could she venture to reveal +her face to them without a blush? Yes. Tackleton +observed her closely; and she did all this.</p> + +<p>Tilly was hushing the Baby; and she crossed +and re-crossed Tackleton, a dozen times, repeating +drowsily:</p> + +<p>"Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, +then, wring its hearts almost to breaking; and did +its fathers deceive it from its cradles but to break +its hearts at last!"</p> + +<p>"Now Tilly, give me the Baby. Good night, Mr. +Tackleton. Where's John, for Goodness' sake?"</p> + +<p>"He's going to walk, beside the horse's head," +said Tackleton; who helped her to her seat.</p> + +<p>"My dear John. Walk? To-night?"</p> + +<p>The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty +sign in the affirmative; and the false Stranger and +the little nurse being in their places, the old horse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +moved off. Boxer, the unconscious Boxer, running on +before, running back, running round and round the +cart, and barking as triumphantly and merrily as ever.</p> + +<p>When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting +May and her mother home, poor Caleb sat down by +the fire beside his daughter; anxious and remorseful +at the core; and still saying in his wistful contemplation +of her, "have I deceived her from her cradle, +but to break her heart at last!"</p> + +<p>The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, +had all stopped and run down, long ago. In the faint +light and silence, the imperturbably calm dolls; the +agitated rocking-horses with distended eyes and nostrils; +the old gentlemen at the street doors, standing, +half doubled up, upon their failing knees and ankles; +the wry-faced nutcrackers; the very Beasts upon their +way into the Ark, in twos, like a Boarding-School out +walking; might have been imagined to be stricken +motionless with fantastic wonder, at Dot being false, +or Tackleton beloved, under any combination of circumstances.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="Chirp_the_Third" id="Chirp_the_Third"></a> +<img src="images/i_127.png" width="600" height="975" alt="Chirp the Third The Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the Carrier sat down by his fireside. So troubled and grief-worn, that he seemed to scare the Cuckoo, who, having cut his ten" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> +<div class='unindent'>melodious announcements as short as possible, plunged +back into the Moorish Palace again, and clapped his +little door behind him, as if the unwonted spectacle +were too much for his feelings.</div> + +<p>If the little Haymaker had been armed with the +sharpest of scythes, and had cut at every stroke into +the Carrier's heart, he never could have gashed and +wounded it, as Dot had done.</p> + +<p>It was a heart so full of love for her; so bound up +and held together by innumerable threads of winning +remembrance, spun from the daily working of her +many qualities of endearment; it was a heart in which +she had enshrined herself so gently and so closely; a +heart so single and so earnest in its Truth: so strong +in right, so weak in wrong: that it could cherish +neither passion nor revenge at first, and had only +room to hold the broken image of its Idol.</p> + +<p>But slowly, slowly; as the Carrier sat brooding on +his hearth, now cold and dark; other and fiercer +thoughts began to rise within him, as an angry wind +comes rising in the night. The Stranger was beneath +his outraged roof. Three steps would take him to +his chamber door. One blow would beat it in. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +might do Murder before you know it," Tackleton had +said. How could it be Murder, if he gave the Villain +time to grapple with him hand to hand! He was the +younger man.</p> + +<p>It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood +of his mind. It was an angry thought, goading him +to some avenging act, that should change the cheerful +house into a haunted place which lonely travellers +would dread to pass by night; and where the timid +would see shadows struggling in the ruined windows +when the moon was dim, and hear wild noises in the +stormy weather.</p> + +<p>He was the younger man! Yes, yes; some lover +who had won the heart that <i>he</i> had never touched. +Some lover of her early choice: of whom she had +thought and dreamed: for whom she had pined and +pined: when he had fancied her so happy by his side. +Oh agony to think of it!</p> + +<p>She had been above stairs with the Baby, getting +it to bed. As he sat brooding on the hearth, she +came close beside him, without his knowledge—in the +turning of the rack of his great misery, he lost all +other sounds—and put her little stool at his feet. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +only knew it, when he felt her hand upon his own, +and saw her looking up into his face.</p> + +<p>With wonder? No. It was his first impression, and +he was fain to look at her again, to set it right. No, +not with wonder. With an eager and enquiring look; +but not with wonder. At first it was alarmed and +serious; then it changed into a strange, wild, dreadful +smile of recognition of his thoughts; then there was +nothing but her clasped hands on her brow, and her +bent head, and falling hair.</p> + +<p>Though the power of Omnipotence had been his +to wield at that moment, he had too much of its Diviner +property of Mercy in his breast, to have turned +one feather's weight of it against her. But he could +not bear to see her crouching down upon the little +seat where he had often looked on her, with love and +pride, so innocent and gay; and when she rose and +left him, sobbing as she went, he felt it a relief to +have the vacant place beside him rather than her so +long cherished presence. This in itself was anguish +keener than all: reminding him how desolate he was +become, and how the great bond of his life was rent +asunder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>The more he felt this, and the more he knew he +could have better borne to see her lying prematurely +dead before him with their little child upon her breast, +the higher and the stronger rose his wrath against his +enemy. He looked about him for a weapon.</p> + +<p>There was a Gun, hanging on the wall. He took +it down, and moved a pace or two towards the door of +the perfidious Stranger's room. He knew the Gun +was loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was just to +shoot this man like a Wild Beast, seized him; and +dilated in his mind until it grew into a monstrous +demon in complete possession of him, casting out all +milder thoughts and setting up its undivided empire.</p> + +<p>That phrase is wrong. Not casting out his milder +thoughts, but artfully transforming them. Changing +them into scourges to drive him on. Turning water +into blood, Love into hate, Gentleness into blind +ferocity. Her image, sorrowing, humbled, but still +pleading to his tenderness and mercy with resistless +power, never left his mind; but staying there, it urged +him to the door; raised the weapon to his shoulder; +fitted and nerved his finger to the trigger; and cried +"Kill him! In his Bed!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>He reversed the Gun to beat the stock upon the +door; he already held it lifted in the air; some +indistinct design was in his thoughts of calling out to +him to fly, for God's sake, by the window—</p> + +<p>When, suddenly, the struggling fire illumined the +whole chimney with a glow of light; and the Cricket +on the Hearth began to chirp!</p> + +<p>No sound he could have heard; no human voice, +not even her's; could so have moved and softened +him. The artless words in which she had told him +of her love for this same Cricket, were once more +freshly spoken; her trembling, earnest manner at the +moment, was again before him; her pleasant voice—oh +what a voice it was, for making household music +at the fireside of an honest man!—thrilled through +and through his better nature, and awoke it into life +and action.</p> + +<p>He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in +his sleep, awakened from a frightful dream; and put +the Gun aside. Clasping his hands before his face, +he then sat down again beside the fire, and found +relief in tears.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, +and stood in Fairy shape before him.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 404px;"><a name="Johns_Reverie" id="Johns_Reverie"></a> +<img src="images/i_133.png" width="404" height="450" alt="Found relief in tears" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"'I love it,'" said the Fairy Voice, repeating +what he well remembered, "'for the many times I +have heard it, and the many thoughts its harmless +music has given me.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She said so!" cried the Carrier. "True!"</p> + +<p>"'This has been a happy Home, John; and I +love the Cricket for its sake!'"</p> + +<p>"It has been, Heaven knows," returned the Carrier. +"She made it happy, always,—until now."</p> + +<p>"So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, +busy, and light-hearted!" said the Voice.</p> + +<p>"Otherwise I never could have loved her as I +did," returned the Carrier.</p> + +<p>The Voice, correcting him, said "do."</p> + +<p>The Carrier repeated "as I did." But not +firmly. His faltering tongue resisted his <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'controul'">control</ins> , +and would speak in its own way, for itself and him.</p> + +<p>The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its +hand and said:</p> + +<p>"Upon your own hearth"—</p> + +<p>"The hearth she has blighted," interposed the +Carrier.</p> + +<p>"The hearth she has—how often!—blessed and +brightened," said the Cricket: "the hearth which, +but for her, were only a few stones and bricks and +rusty bars, but which has been, through her, the +Altar of your Home; on which you have nightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +sacrificed some petty passion, selfishness, or care, and +offered up the homage of a tranquil mind, a trusting +nature, and an overflowing heart; so that the smoke +from this poor chimney has gone upward with a better +fragrance than the richest incense that is burnt before +the richest shrines in all the gaudy Temples of this +World!—Upon your own hearth; in its quiet sanctuary; +surrounded by its gentle influences and associations; +hear her! Hear me! Hear everything +that speaks the language of your hearth and home!"</p> + +<p>"And pleads for her?" enquired the Carrier.</p> + +<p>"All things that speak the language of your hearth +and home, <i>must</i> plead for her!" returned the Cricket. +"For they speak the Truth."</p> + +<p>And while the Carrier, with his head upon his +hands, continued to sit meditating in his chair, the +Presence stood beside him; suggesting his reflections +by its power, and presenting them before him, as in +a Glass or Picture. It was not a solitary Presence. +From the hearthstone, from the chimney; from the +clock, the pipe, the kettle, and the cradle; from the +floor, the walls, the ceiling, and the stairs; from the +cart without, and the cupboard within, and the household<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +implements; from every thing and every place +with which she had ever been familiar, and with which +she had ever entwined one recollection of herself in +her unhappy husband's mind; Fairies came trooping +forth. Not to stand beside him as the Cricket did, but +to busy and bestir themselves. To do all honor to +Her image. To pull him by the skirts, and point to +it when it appeared. To cluster round it, and embrace +it, and strew flowers for it to tread on. To try +to crown its fair head with their tiny hands. To +show that they were fond of it and loved it; and that +there was not one ugly, wicked, or accusatory creature +to claim knowledge of it—none but their playful and +approving selves.</p> + +<p>His thoughts were constant to her Image. It was +always there.</p> + +<p>She sat plying her needle, before the fire, and +singing to herself. Such a blithe, thriving, steady +little Dot! The fairy figures turned upon him all at +once, by one consent, with one prodigious concentrated +stare; and seemed to say "Is this the light wife you +are mourning for!"</p> + +<p>There were sounds of gaiety outside: musical instruments,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +and noisy tongues, and laughter. A crowd +of young merry-makers came pouring in; among +whom were May Fielding and a score of pretty girls. +Dot was the fairest of them all; as young as any of +them too. They came to summon her to join their +party. It was a dance. If ever little foot were made +for dancing, hers was, surely. But she laughed, and +shook her head, and pointed to her cookery on the +fire, and her table ready spread: with an exulting +defiance that rendered her more charming than she +was before. And so she merrily dismissed them: +nodding to her would-be partners, one by one, as they +passed out, with a comical indifference, enough to +make them go and drown themselves immediately if +they were her admirers—and they must have been so, +more or less; they couldn't help it. And yet indifference +was not her character. Oh no! For presently, +there came a certain Carrier to the door; and +bless her what a welcome she bestowed upon him!</p> + +<p>Again the staring figures turned upon him all at +once, and seemed to say "Is this the wife who has +forsaken you!"</p> + +<p>A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture: call<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +it what you will. A great shadow of the Stranger, +as he first stood underneath their roof; covering its +surface, and blotting out all other objects. But +the nimble fairies worked like Bees to clear it off +again; and Dot again was there. Still bright and +beautiful.</p> + +<p>Rocking her little Baby in its cradle; singing to +it softly; and resting her head upon a shoulder which +had its counterpart in the musing figure by which the +Fairy Cricket stood.</p> + +<p>The night—I mean the real night: not going by +Fairy clocks—was wearing now; and in this stage of +the Carrier's thoughts, the moon burst out, and shone +brightly in the sky. Perhaps some calm and quiet +light had risen also, in his mind; and he could think +more soberly of what had happened.</p> + +<p>Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals +upon the glass—always distinct, and big, and +thoroughly defined—it never fell so darkly as at +first. Whenever it appeared, the Fairies uttered a +general cry of consternation, and plied their little arms +and legs, with inconceivable activity, to rub it out. +And whenever they got at Dot again, and showed her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +to him once more, bright and beautiful, they cheered +in the most inspiring manner.</p> + +<p>They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful +and bright, for they were Household Spirits to whom +Falsehood is annihilation; and being so, what Dot +was there for them, but the one active, beaming, +pleasant little creature who had been the light and +sun of the Carrier's Home!</p> + +<p>The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they +showed her, with the Baby, gossiping among a knot +of sage old matrons, and affecting to be wondrous old +and matronly herself, and leaning in a staid, demure +old way upon her husband's arm, attempting—she! +such a bud of a little woman—to convey the idea of +having abjured the vanities of the world in general, +and of being the sort of person to whom it was no +novelty at all to be a mother; yet in the same breath, +they showed her, laughing at the Carrier for being +awkward, and pulling up his shirt-collar to make him +smart, and mincing merrily about that very room to +teach him how to dance!</p> + +<p>They turned, and stared immensely at him when +they showed her with the Blind Girl; for though she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +carried cheerfulness and animation with her, wheresoever +she went, she bore those influences into Caleb +Plummer's home, heaped up and running over. The +Blind Girl's love for her, and trust in her, and gratitude +to her; her own good busy way of setting +Bertha's thanks aside; her dexterous little arts for +filling up each moment of the visit in doing something +useful to the house, and really working hard while +feigning to make holiday; her bountiful provision of +those standing delicacies, the Veal and Ham-Pie and +the bottles of Beer; her radiant little face arriving +at the door, and taking leave; the wonderful +expression in her whole self, from her neat foot to the +crown of her head, of being a part of the establishment—a +something necessary to it, which it couldn't +be without; all this the Fairies revelled in, and loved +her for. And once again they looked upon him all +at once, appealingly; and seemed to say, while +some among them nestled in her dress and fondled +her, "Is this the Wife who has betrayed your confidence!"</p> + +<p>More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long +thoughtful night, they showed her to him sitting on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +her favourite seat, with her bent head, her hands +clasped on her brow, her falling hair. As he had seen +her last. And when they found her thus, they neither +turned nor looked upon him, but gathered close round +her, and comforted and kissed her: and pressed on +one another to show sympathy and kindness to her: +and forgot him altogether.</p> + +<p>Thus the night passed. The moon went down; +the stars grew pale; the cold day broke; the sun +rose. The Carrier still sat, musing, in the chimney +corner. He had sat there, with his head upon his +hands, all night. All night the faithful Cricket had +been Chirp, Chirp, Chirping on the Hearth. All +night he had listened to its voice. All night, the +household Fairies had been busy with him. All night, +she had been amiable and blameless in the Glass, +except when that one shadow fell upon it.</p> + +<p>He rose up when it was broad day, and washed +and dressed himself. He couldn't go about his customary +cheerful avocations; he wanted spirit for +them; but it mattered the less, that it was Tackleton's +wedding-day, and he had arranged to make his rounds +by proxy. He had thought to have gone merrily to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +church with Dot. But such plans were at an end. +It was their own wedding-day too. Ah! how little he +had looked for such a close to such a year!</p> + +<p>The Carrier expected that Tackleton would pay +him an early visit; and he was right. He had not +walked to and fro before his own door, many minutes, +when he saw the Toy Merchant coming in his chaise +along the road. As the chaise drew nearer, he perceived +that Tackleton was dressed out sprucely, for +his marriage: and had decorated his horse's head +with flowers and favors.</p> + +<p>The horse looked much more like a Bridegroom +than Tackleton: whose half-closed eye was more disagreeably +expressive than ever. But the Carrier took +little heed of this. His thoughts had other occupation.</p> + +<p>"John Peerybingle!" said Tackleton, with an air +of condolence. "My good fellow, how do you find +yourself this morning?"</p> + +<p>"I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton," +returned the Carrier shaking his head: "for I have +been a good deal disturbed in my mind. But it's over +now! Can you spare me half an hour or so, for some +private talk?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I came on purpose," returned Tackleton, alighting. +"Never mind the horse. He'll stand quiet +enough, with the reins over this post, if you'll give +him a mouthful of hay."</p> + +<p>The Carrier having brought it from his stable and +set it before him, they turned into the house.</p> + +<p>"You are not married before noon?" he said, +"I think?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Tackleton. "Plenty of time. +Plenty of time."</p> + +<p>When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was +rapping at the Stranger's door; which was only +removed from it by a few steps. One of her very red +eyes (for Tilly had been crying all night long, because +her mistress cried) was at the keyhole; and she was +knocking very loud; and seemed frightened.</p> + +<p>"If you please I can't make nobody hear," said +Tilly, looking round. "I hope nobody an't gone and +been and died if you please!"</p> + +<p>This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'emphasied'">emphasised</ins> +with various new raps and kicks at the door; which +led to no result whatever.</p> + +<p>"Shall I go?" said Tackleton. "It's curious."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Carrier who had turned his face from the door, +signed to him to go if he would.</p> + +<p>So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy's relief; and +he too kicked and knocked; and he too failed to get +the least reply. But he thought of trying the handle +of the door; and as it opened easily, he peeped in, +looked in, went in; and soon came running out again.</p> + +<p>"John Peerybingle," said Tackleton, in his ear. +"I hope there has been nothing—nothing rash in the +night."</p> + +<p>The Carrier turned upon him quickly.</p> + +<p>"Because he's gone!" said Tackleton; "and the +window's open. I don't see any marks—to be sure +it's almost on a level with the garden: but I was +afraid there might have been some—some scuffle. +Eh?"</p> + +<p>He nearly shut up the expressive eye, altogether; +he looked at him so hard. And he gave his eye, and +his face, and his whole person, a sharp twist. As if +he would have screwed the truth out of him.</p> + +<p>"Make yourself easy," said the Carrier. "He +went into that room last night, without harm in word +or deed from me; and no one has entered it since.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +He is away of his own free will. I'd go out gladly at +that door, and beg my bread from house to house, +for life, if I could so change the past that he had +never come. But he has come and gone. And I +have done with him!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!—Well, I think he has got off pretty easily," +said Tackleton, taking a chair.</p> + +<p>The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down +too: and shaded his face with his hand, for some +little time, before proceeding.</p> + +<p>"You showed me last night," he said at length, +"my wife; my wife that I love; secretly—"</p> + +<p>"And tenderly," insinuated Tackleton.</p> + +<p>"Conniving at that man's disguise, and giving him +opportunities of meeting her alone. I think there's +no sight I wouldn't have rather seen than that. I +think there's no man in the world I wouldn't have +rather had to show it me."</p> + +<p>"I confess to having had my suspicions always," +said Tackleton. "And that has made me objectionable +here, I know."</p> + +<p>"But as you did show it me," pursued the Carrier, +not minding him; "and as you saw her; my wife;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +my wife that I love"—his voice, and eye, and hand, +grew steadier and firmer as he repeated these words: +evidently in pursuance of a stedfast purpose—"as +you saw her at this disadvantage, it is right and just +that you should also see with my eyes, and look into +my breast, and know what my mind is, upon the subject. +For it's settled," said the Carrier, regarding +him attentively. "And nothing can shake it +now."</p> + +<p>Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, +about its being necessary to vindicate something or +other; but he was overawed by the manner of his +companion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it had a +something dignified and noble in it, which nothing +but the soul of generous Honor dwelling in the man, +could have imparted.</p> + +<p>"I am a plain, rough man," pursued the Carrier, +"with very little to recommend me. I am not a clever +man, as you very well know. I am not a young man. +I loved my little Dot, because I had seen her grow up, +from a child, in her father's house; because I knew +how precious she was; because she had been my +Life, for years and years. There's many men I can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +compare with, who never could have loved my little +Dot like me, I think!"</p> + +<p>He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time +with his foot, before resuming:</p> + +<p>"I often thought that though I wasn't good enough +for her, I should make her a kind husband, and +perhaps know her value better than another; and in +this way I reconciled it to myself, and came to think +it might be possible that we should be married. And +in the end, it came about, and we <i>were</i> married."</p> + +<p>"Hah!" said Tackleton, with a significant shake of +his head.</p> + +<p>"I had studied myself; I had had experience of +myself; I knew how much I loved her, and how +happy I should be," pursued the Carrier. "But I +had not—I feel it now—sufficiently considered her."</p> + +<p>"To be sure," said Tackleton. "Giddiness, frivolity, +fickleness, love of admiration! Not considered! +All left out of sight! Hah!"</p> + +<p>"You had best not interrupt me," said the Carrier, +with some sternness, "till you understand me; and +you're wide of doing so. If, yesterday, I'd have +struck that man down at a blow, who dared to breathe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +a word against her; to-day I'd set my foot upon his +face, if he was my brother!"</p> + +<p>The Toy Merchant gazed at him in astonishment. +He went on in a softer tone:</p> + +<p>"Did I consider," said the Carrier, "that I took +her; at her age, and with her beauty; from her +young companions, and the many scenes of which she +was the ornament; in which she was the brightest +little star that ever shone; to shut her up from day +to day in my dull house, and keep my tedious company? +Did I consider how little suited I was to her +sprightly humour, and how wearisome a plodding man +like me must be, to one of her quick spirit? Did I +consider that it was no merit in me, or claim in me, +that I loved her, when everybody must who knew +her? Never. I took advantage of her hopeful +nature and her cheerful disposition; and I married +her. I wish I never had! For her sake; not for +mine!"</p> + +<p>The Toy Merchant gazed at him, without winking. +Even the half-shut eye was open now.</p> + +<p>"Heaven bless her!" said the Carrier, "for the +cheerful constancy with which she has tried to keep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +the knowledge of this from me! And Heaven help +me, that, in my slow mind, I have not found it out +before! Poor child! Poor Dot! <i>I</i> not to find it +out, who have seen her eyes fill with tears, when such +a marriage as our own was spoken of! I, who have +seen the secret trembling on her lips a hundred times, +and never suspected it, till last night! Poor girl! +That I could ever hope she would be fond of me! +That I could ever believe she was!"</p> + +<p>"She made a show of it," said Tackleton. "She +made such a show of it, that to tell you the truth it +was the origin of my misgivings."</p> + +<p>And here he asserted the superiority of May +Fielding, who certainly made no sort of show of being +fond of <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>"She has tried," said the poor Carrier, with +greater emotion than he had exhibited yet; "I only +now begin to know how hard she has tried; to be +my dutiful and zealous wife. How good she has +been; how much she has done; how brave and strong +a heart she has; let the happiness I have known +under this roof bear witness! It will be some help +and comfort to me, when I am here alone."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here alone?" said Tackleton. "Oh! Then +you do mean to take some notice of this?"</p> + +<p>"I mean," returned the Carrier, "to do her the +greatest kindness, and make her the best reparation, +in my power. I can release her from the daily pain +of an unequal marriage, and the struggle to conceal it; +She shall be as free as I can render her."</p> + +<p>"Make <i>her</i> reparation!" exclaimed Tackleton, +twisting and turning his great ears with his hands. +"There must be something wrong here. You didn't +say that, of course."</p> + +<p>The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy +Merchant, and shook him like a reed.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me!" he said. "And take care that +you hear me right. Listen to me. Do I speak +plainly?"</p> + +<p>"Very plainly indeed," answered Tackleton.</p> + +<p>"As if I meant it?"</p> + +<p>"Very much as if you meant it."</p> + +<p>"I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night," +exclaimed the Carrier. "On the spot where she has +often sat beside me, with her sweet face looking into +mine. I called up her whole life, day by day; I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +her dear self, in its every passage, in review before +me. And upon my soul she is innocent, if there is +One to judge the innocent and guilty!"</p> + +<p>Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household +Fairies!</p> + +<p>"Passion and distrust have left me!" said the +Carrier; "and nothing but my grief remains. In an +unhappy moment some old lover, better suited to her +tastes and years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me, +against her will; returned. In an unhappy moment: +taken by surprise, and wanting time to think of what +she did: she made herself a party to his treachery, by +concealing it. Last night she saw him, in the interview +we witnessed. It was wrong. But otherwise +than this, she is innocent if there is Truth on earth!"</p> + +<p>"If that is your opinion—" Tackleton began.</p> + +<p>"So, let her go!" pursued the Carrier. "Go, with +my blessing for the many happy hours she has given +me, and my forgiveness for any pang she has caused +me. Let her go, and have the peace of mind I wish +her! She'll never hate me. She'll learn to like +me better, when I'm not a drag upon her, and she +wears the chain I have rivetted, more lightly. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +is the day on which I took her, with so little thought +for her enjoyment, from her home. To-day she shall +return to it; and I will trouble her no more. Her +father and mother will be here to-day—we had made +a little plan for keeping it together—and they shall +take her home. I can trust her, there, or anywhere. +She leaves me without blame, and she will live so I +am sure. If I should die—I may perhaps while she is +still young; I have lost some courage in a few hours—she'll +find that I remembered her, and loved her to +the last! This is the end of what you showed me. +Now, it's over!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, John, not over. Do not say it's over yet! +Not quite yet. I have heard your noble words. I +could not steal away, pretending to be ignorant of +what has affected me with such deep gratitude. +Do not say it's over, 'till the clock has struck +again!"</p> + +<p>She had entered shortly after Tackleton; and had +remained there. She never looked at Tackleton, but +fixed her eyes upon her husband. But she kept away +from him, setting as wide a space as possible between +them; and though she spoke with most impassioned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +earnestness, she went no nearer to him even then. +How different in this, from her old self!</p> + +<p>"No hand can make the clock which will strike +again for me the hours that are gone," replied the +Carrier, with a faint smile. "But let it be so, if you +will, my dear. It will strike soon. It's of little +matter what we say. I'd try to please you in a +harder case than that."</p> + +<p>"Well!" muttered Tackleton. "I must be off: +for when the clock strikes again, it'll be necessary for +me to be upon my way to church. Good morning, +John Peerybingle. I'm sorry to be deprived of the +pleasure of your company. Sorry for the loss, and +the occasion of it too!"</p> + +<p>"I have spoken plainly?" said the Carrier, accompanying +him to the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh quite!"</p> + +<p>"And you'll remember what I have said?"</p> + +<p>"Why, if you compel me to make the observation," +said Tackleton; previously taking the precaution of +getting into his chaise; "I must say that it was so +very unexpected, that I'm far from being likely to +forget it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The better for us both," returned the Carrier. +"Good bye. I give you joy!"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could give it to <i>you</i>," said Tackleton. +"As I can't; thank'ee. Between ourselves (as I +told you before, eh?) I don't much think I shall have +the less joy in my married life, because May hasn't +been too officious about me, and too demonstrative. +Good bye! Take care of yourself."</p> + +<p>The Carrier stood looking after him until he was +smaller in the distance than his horse's flowers and +favours near at hand; and then, with a deep sigh, +went strolling like a restless, broken man, among +some neighbouring elms; unwilling to return until +the clock was on the eve of striking.</p> + +<p>His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; +but often dried her eyes and checked herself, to say +how good he was, how excellent he was! and once or +twice she laughed; so heartily, triumphantly, and +incoherently (still crying all the time), that Tilly was +quite horrified.</p> + +<p>"Ow if you please don't!" said Tilly. "It's +enough to dead and bury the Baby, so it is if +you please."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, +Tilly," enquired her mistress; drying her eyes; +"when I can't live here, and have gone to my old +home?"</p> + +<p>"Ow if you please don't!" cried Tilly, throwing +back her head, and bursting out into a howl; +she looked at the moment uncommonly like Boxer; +"Ow if you please don't! Ow, what has everybody +gone and been and done with everybody, making +everybody else so wretched! Ow-w-w-w!"</p> + +<p>The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, +into such a deplorable howl: the more tremendous +from its long suppression: that she must +infallibly have awakened the Baby, and frightened +him into something serious (probably convulsions), if +her eyes had not encountered Caleb Plummer, leading +in his daughter. This spectacle restoring her to a +sense of the proprieties, she stood for some few moments +silent, with her mouth wide open: and then, +posting off to the bed on which the Baby lay asleep, +danced in a Weird, Saint Vitus manner on the +floor, and at the same time rummaged with her +face and head among the bedclothes: apparently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +deriving much relief from those extraordinary operations.</p> + +<p>"Mary!" said Bertha. "Not at the marriage!"</p> + +<p>"I told her you would not be there Mum," whispered +Caleb. "I heard as much last night. But bless +you," said the little man, taking her tenderly by both +hands, "<i>I</i> don't care for what they say; <i>I</i> don't +believe them. There an't much of me, but that +little should be torn to pieces sooner than I'd trust a +word against you!"</p> + +<p>He put his arms about her neck and hugged her, +as a child might have hugged one of his own dolls.</p> + +<p>"Bertha couldn't stay at home this morning," +said Caleb. "She was afraid, I know, to hear the +Bells ring: and couldn't trust herself to be so near +them on their wedding-day. So we started in good +time, and came here. I have been thinking of what +I have done," said Caleb, after a moment's pause; "I +have been blaming myself 'till I hardly knew what to do +or where to turn, for the distress of mind I have caused +her; and I've come to the conclusion that I'd better, +if you'll stay with me, Mum, the while, tell her the +truth. You'll stay with me the while?" he enquired,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +trembling from head to foot. "I don't know what +effect it may have upon her; I don't know what she'll +think of me; I don't know that she'll ever care for +her poor father afterwards. But it's best for her +that she should be undeceived; and I must bear the +consequences as I deserve!"</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Bertha, "where is your hand! Ah! +Here it is; here it is!" pressing it to her lips, with +a smile, and drawing it through her arm. "I heard +them speaking softly among themselves, last night, of +some blame against you. They were wrong."</p> + +<p>The Carrier's Wife was silent. Caleb answered +for her.</p> + +<p>"They were wrong," he said.</p> + +<p>"I knew it!" cried Bertha, proudly. "I told +them so. I scorned to hear a word! Blame <i>her</i> +with justice!" she pressed the hand between her +own, and the soft cheek against her face. "No! I +am not so Blind as that."</p> + +<p>Her father went on one side of her, while Dot +remained upon the other: holding her hand.</p> + +<p>"I know you all," said Bertha, "better than you +think. But none so well as her. Not even you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +father. There is nothing half so real and so true +about me, as she is. If I could be restored to sight +this instant, and not a word were spoken, I could +choose her from a crowd! My Sister!"</p> + +<p>"Bertha, my dear!" said Caleb, "I have something +on my mind I want to tell you, while we three +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 expression in +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!"</p> + +<p>"He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha," said +Dot. "You'll say so, presently. You'll be the first +to tell him so."</p> + +<p>"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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +My dear Blind Daughter, hear me and forgive +me! The world you live in, heart of mine, 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; but drew back, and clung closer to her +friend.</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, changed the characters of people, +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>I</i> know! I who have no leader! I so +miserably blind!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></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 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 penitence and sorrow.</p> + +<p>She had been but a short time in this passion of +regret, when the Cricket on the Hearth, unheard by +all but her, began to chirp. Not merrily, but in a +low, faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful, that +her tears began to flow; and when the Presence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +which had been beside the Carrier all night, appeared +behind her, pointing to her father, they fell down +like rain.</p> + +<p>She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon; and +was conscious, through her blindness, of the Presence +hovering about her father.</p> + +<p>"Mary," said the Blind Girl, "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," Dot continued in a low, +clear voice, "as your poor father in his sackcloth +coat."</p> + +<p>The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the +Carrier's little wife aside.</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? Did you send them?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Who then?"</p> + +<p>Dot saw she knew, already; and was silent. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +Blind Girl spread her hands before her face again. +But in quite another manner now.</p> + +<p>"Dear Mary, a moment. One moment! More +this way. Speak softly to me. You are true, I know. +You'd not deceive me now; would you?"</p> + +<p>"No, Bertha, indeed!"</p> + +<p>"No, I am sure you would not. You have too +much pity for me. Mary, look across the room to +where we were just now; to where my father is—my +father, so compassionate and loving to me—and +tell me what you see."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Dot, who understood her well; "an +old man sitting in a chair, and leaning sorrowfully on +the back, with his face resting on his hand. As if his +child should comfort him, Bertha."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. She will. Go on."</p> + +<p>"He is an old man, worn with care and work. +He is a spare, dejected, thoughtful, grey-haired man. +I see him now, despondent and bowed down, and +striving against nothing. But Bertha, I have seen +him many times before; and striving hard in many +ways for one great sacred object. And I honor his +grey head, and bless him!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing +herself upon her knees before him, took the grey head +to her breast.</p> + +<p>"It is my sight restored. It is my sight!" she +cried. "I have been blind, and now my eyes are +open. I never knew him! To think I might have +died, and never truly seen the father, who has been +so loving to me!"</p> + +<p>There were no words for Caleb's emotion.</p> + +<p>"There is not a gallant figure on this earth," exclaimed +the Blind Girl, holding him in her embrace, +"that I would love so dearly, and would cherish so +devotedly, as this! The greyer, and more worn, the +dearer, father! Never let them say I am blind +again. There's not a furrow in his face, there's +not a hair upon his head, that shall be forgotten in +my prayers and thanks to Heaven!"</p> + +<p>Caleb managed to articulate "My Bertha!"</p> + +<p>"And in my Blindness, I believed him," said the +girl, caressing him with tears of exquisite affection, +"to be so different! And having him beside me, +day by day, so mindful of me always, never dreamed +of this!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha," +said poor Caleb. "He's gone!"</p> + +<p>"Nothing is gone," she answered. "Dearest +father, no! Everything is here—in you. The father +that I loved so well; the father that I never loved +enough, and never knew; the Benefactor whom I +first began to reverence and love, because he had such +sympathy for me; All are here in you. Nothing is +dead to me. The Soul of all that was most dear to +me is here—here, with the worn face, and the grey +head. And I am <span class="smcap">NOT</span> blind, father, any longer!"</p> + +<p>Dot's whole attention had been concentrated, during +this discourse, upon the father and daughter; but +looking, now, towards the little Haymaker in the +Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within +a few minutes of striking; and fell, immediately, into +a nervous and excited state.</p> + +<p>"Father," said Bertha, hesitating. "Mary."</p> + +<p>"Yes my dear," returned Caleb. "Here she is."</p> + +<p>"There is no change in <i>her</i>. You never told me +anything of <i>her</i> that was not true?"</p> + +<p>"I should have done it my dear, I am afraid," +returned Caleb, "if I could have made her better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +than she was. But I must have changed her for the +worse, if I had changed her at all. Nothing could +improve her, Bertha."</p> + +<p>Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she +asked the question, her delight and pride in the reply, +and her renewed embrace of Dot, were charming to +behold.</p> + +<p>"More changes than you think for, may happen +though, my dear," said Dot. "Changes for the better, +I mean; changes for great joy to some of us. You +mustn't let them startle you too much, if any such +should ever happen, and affect you? Are those +wheels upon the road? You've a quick ear, +Bertha. Are they wheels?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Coming very fast."</p> + +<p>"I—I—I know you have a quick ear," said Dot, +placing her hand upon her heart, and evidently talking +on, as fast as she could, to hide its palpitating +state, "because I have noticed it often, and because +you were so quick to find out that strange step last +night. Though why you should have said, as I very +well recollect you did say, Bertha, 'whose step is +that!' and why you should have taken any greater<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +observation of it than of any other step, I don't know. +Though as I said just now, there are great changes in +the world: great changes: and we can't do better +than prepare ourselves to be surprised at hardly +anything."</p> + +<p>Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that +she spoke to him, no less than to his daughter. He +saw her, with astonishment, so fluttered and distressed +that she could scarcely breathe; and holding +to a chair, to save herself from falling.</p> + +<p>"They are wheels indeed!" she panted, "coming +nearer! Nearer! Very close! And now you hear +them stopping at the garden gate! And now you +hear a step outside the door—the same step Bertha, +is it not!—and now!"—</p> + +<p>She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; +and running up to Caleb put her hands upon his +eyes, as a young man rushed into the room, and +flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping +down upon them.</p> + +<p>"Is it over?" cried Dot.</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Happily over?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did +you ever hear the like of it before?" cried Dot.</p> + +<p>"If my boy in the Golden South Americas was +alive"—said Caleb, trembling.</p> + +<p>"He is alive!" shrieked Dot, removing her hands +from his eyes, and clapping them in ecstacy; "look +at him! See where he stands before you, healthy +and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear +living, loving brother, Bertha!"</p> + +<p>All honor to the little creature for her transports! +All honor to her tears and laughter, when the three +were locked in one another's arms! All honor to the +heartiness with which she met the sunburnt Sailor-fellow, +with his dark streaming hair, half way, and +never turned her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered +him to kiss it, freely, and to press her to his bounding +heart!</p> + +<p>And honor to the Cuckoo too—why not!—for +bursting out of the trap-door in the Moorish Palace +like a housebreaker, and hiccoughing twelve times on +the assembled company, as if he had got drunk for +joy!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Carrier, entering, started back: and well he +might: to find himself in such good company.</p> + +<p>"Look, John!" said Caleb, exultingly, "look +here! My own boy from the Golden South Americas! +My own son! Him that you fitted out, and sent +away yourself; him that you were always such a +friend to!"</p> + +<p>The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; +but recoiling, as some feature in his face awakened a +remembrance of the Deaf Man in the Cart, said:</p> + +<p>"Edward! Was it you?"</p> + +<p>"Now tell him all!" cried Dot. "Tell him all, +Edward; and don't spare me, for nothing shall make +me spare myself in his eyes, ever again."</p> + +<p>"I was the man," said Edward.</p> + +<p>"And could you steal, disguised, into the house of +your old friend?" rejoined the Carrier. "There +was a frank boy once—how many years is it, Caleb, +since we heard that he was dead, and had it proved, +we thought?—who never would have done that."</p> + +<p>"There was a generous friend of mine, once: +more a father to me than a friend:" said Edward, +"who never would have judged me, or any other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +man, unheard. You were he. So I am certain you +will hear me now."</p> + +<p>The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who +still kept far away from him, replied, "Well! that's +but fair. I will."</p> + +<p>"You must know that when I left here, a boy," +said Edward, "I was in love: and my love was +returned. She was a very young girl, who perhaps +(you may tell me) didn't know her own mind. But +I knew mine; and I had a passion for her."</p> + +<p>"You had!" exclaimed the Carrier. "You!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I had," returned the other. "And she +returned it. I have ever since believed she did; and +now I am sure she did."</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me!" said the Carrier. "This is +worse than all."</p> + +<p>"Constant to her," said Edward, "and returning, +full of hope, after many hardships and perils, to +redeem my part of our old contract, I heard, +twenty miles away, that she was false to me; that +she had forgotten me; and had bestowed herself +upon another and a richer man. I had no mind to +reproach her; but I wished to see her, and to prove<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +beyond dispute that this was true. I hoped she +might have been forced into it, against her own +desire and recollection. It would be small comfort, +but it would be some, I thought: and on I came. +That I might have the truth, the real truth; observing +freely for myself, and judging for myself, +without obstruction on the one hand, or presenting +my own influence (if I had any) before her, on the +other; I dressed myself unlike myself—you know +how; and waited on the road—you know where. +You had no suspicion of me; neither had—had she," +pointing to Dot, "until I whispered in her ear at +that fireside, and she so nearly betrayed me."</p> + +<p>"But when she knew that Edward was alive, and +had come back," sobbed Dot, now speaking for +herself, as she had burned to do, all through this +narrative; "and when she knew his purpose, she +advised him by all means to keep his secret close; +for his old friend John Peerybingle was much too +open in his nature, and too clumsy in all artifice—being +a clumsy man in general," said Dot, half +laughing and half crying—"to keep it for him. And +when she—that's me, John," sobbed the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +woman—"told him all, and how his sweetheart had +believed him to be dead; and how she had at last +been over-persuaded by her mother into a marriage +which the silly, dear old thing called advantageous; +and when she—that's me again, John—told him +they were not yet married (though close upon it), +and that it would be nothing but a sacrifice if +it went on, for there was no love on her side; +and when he went nearly mad with joy to hear it; +then she—that's me again—said she would go +between them, as she had often done before in +old times, John, and would sound his sweetheart +and be sure that what she—me again, John—said +and thought was right. And it <span class="smcap">WAS</span> right, John! +And they were brought together, John! And they +were married, John, an hour ago! And here's the +Bride! And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! +And I'm a happy little woman, May, God bless you!"</p> + +<p>She was an irresistible little woman, if that be +anything to the purpose; and never so completely +irresistible as in her present transports. There never +were congratulations so endearing and delicious, as +those she lavished on herself and on the Bride.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the +honest Carrier had stood, confounded. Flying, now, +towards her, Dot stretched out her hand to stop him, +and retreated as before.</p> + +<p>"No John, no! Hear all! Don't love me any +more John, 'till you've heard every word I have to +say. It was wrong to have a secret from you, John. +I'm very sorry. I didn't think it any harm, till I +came and sat down by you on the little stool last +night; but when I knew by what was written in your +face, that you had seen me walking in the gallery +with Edward; and knew what you thought; I felt +how giddy and how wrong it was. But oh, dear +John, how could you, could you, think so!"</p> + +<p>Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peerybingle +would have caught her in his arms. But no; +she wouldn't let him.</p> + +<p>"Don't love me yet, please John! Not for a long +time yet! When I was sad about this intended +marriage, dear, it was because I remembered May +and Edward such young lovers; and knew that her +heart was far away from Tackleton. You believe that, +now. Don't you John?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>John was going to make another rush at this +appeal; but she stopped him again.</p> + +<p>"No; keep there, please John! When I laugh +at you, as I sometimes do, John; and call you clumsy, +and a dear old goose, and names of that sort, it's +because I love you John, so well; and take such +pleasure in your ways; and wouldn't see you altered +in the least respect to have you made a King to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Hooroar!" said Caleb with unusual vigour. +"My opinion!"</p> + +<p>"And when I speak of people being middle-aged, +and steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum +couple, going on in a jog-trot sort of way, it's +only because I'm such a silly little thing, John, that +I like, sometimes, to act a kind of Play with Baby, +and all that: and make believe."</p> + +<p>She saw that he was coming; and stopped him +again. But she was very nearly too late.</p> + +<p>"No, don't love me for another minute or two, if +you please John! What I want most to tell you, I +have kept to the last. My dear, good, generous +John; when we were talking the other night about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +the Cricket, I had it on my lips to say, that at first I +did not love you quite so dearly as I do now; that +when I first came home here, I was half afraid I +mightn't learn to love you every bit as well as +I hoped and prayed I might—being so very young, +John. But, dear John, every day and hour, I loved +you more and more. And if I could have loved you +better than I do, the noble words I heard you say +this morning, would have made me. But I can't. All +the affection that I had (it was a great deal John) +I gave you, as you well deserve, long, long, ago, and +I have no more left to give. Now, my dear Husband, +take me to your heart again! That's my home, John; +and never, never think of sending me to any other!"</p> + +<p>You never will derive so much delight from seeing +a glorious little woman in the arms of a third party, +as you would have felt if you had seen Dot run into +the Carrier's embrace. It was the most complete, +unmitigated, soul-fraught little piece of earnestness +that ever you beheld in all your days.</p> + +<p>You may be sure the Carrier was in a state of +perfect rapture; and you may be sure Dot was likewise; +and you may be sure they all were, inclusive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +of Miss Slowboy, who cried copiously for joy, +and, wishing to include her young charge in the +general interchange of congratulations, handed round +the Baby to everybody in succession, as if it were +something to drink.</p> + +<p>But now the sound of wheels was heard again outside +the door; and somebody exclaimed that Gruff +and Tackleton was coming back. Speedily that +worthy gentleman appeared: looking warm and +flustered.</p> + +<p>"Why, what the Devil's this, John Peerybingle!" +said Tackleton. "There's some mistake. I appointed +Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at the church; +and I'll swear I passed her on the road, on her way +here. Oh! here she is! I beg your pardon Sir; +I haven't the pleasure of knowing you; but if you +can do me the favour to spare this young lady, she +has rather a particular engagement this morning."</p> + +<p>"But I can't spare her," returned Edward. "I +couldn't think of it."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, you vagabond?" said +Tackleton.</p> + +<p>"I mean, that as I can make allowance for your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +being vexed," returned the other, with a smile, "I am +as deaf to harsh discourse this morning, as I was to +all discourse last night."</p> + +<p>The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and +the start he gave!</p> + +<p>"I am sorry Sir," said Edward, holding out May's +left hand, and especially the third finger, "that the +young lady can't accompany you to church; but as +she has been there once, this morning, perhaps you'll +excuse her."</p> + +<p>Tackleton looked hard at the third finger; and +took a little piece of silver-paper, apparently containing +a ring, from his waistcoat pocket.</p> + +<p>"Miss Slowboy," said Tackleton. "Will you +have the kindness to throw that in the fire? +Thank'ee."</p> + +<p>"It was a previous engagement: quite an old engagement: +that prevented my wife from keeping her +appointment with you, I assure you," said Edward.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge +that I revealed it to him faithfully; and that +I told him, many times, I never could forget it," said +May, blushing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh certainly!" said Tackleton. "Oh to be +sure. Oh it's all right. It's quite correct. Mrs. +Edward Plummer, I infer?"</p> + +<p>"That's the name," returned the bridegroom.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I shouldn't have known you Sir," said +Tackleton: scrutinizing his face narrowly, and making +a low bow. "I give you joy Sir!"</p> + +<p>"Thank'ee."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Peerybingle," said Tackleton, turning suddenly +to where she stood with her husband; "I am +sorry. You haven't done me a very great kindness, +but upon my life I am sorry. You are better than I +thought you. John Peerybingle, I am sorry. You +understand me; that's enough. It's quite correct, +ladies and gentlemen all, and perfectly satisfactory. +Good morning!"</p> + +<p>With these words he carried it off, and carried +himself off too: merely stopping at the door, to take +the flowers and favors from his horse's head, and to +kick that animal once in the ribs, as a means of +informing him that there was a screw loose in his +arrangements.</p> + +<p>Of course it became a serious duty now, to make<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +such a day of it, as should mark these events for a +high Feast and Festival in the Peerybingle Calendar +for evermore. Accordingly, Dot went to work to produce +such an entertainment, as should reflect undying +honour on the house and every one concerned; and +in a very short space of time, she was up to her dimpled +elbows in flour, and whitening the Carrier's coat, +every time he came near her, by stopping him to give +him a kiss. That good fellow washed the greens, +and peeled the turnips, and broke the plates, and +upset iron pots full of cold water on the fire, and +made himself useful in all sorts of ways: while a +couple of professional assistants, hastily called in from +somewhere in the neighbourhood, as on a point of life +or death, ran against each other in all the doorways +and round all the corners; and everybody tumbled over +Tilly Slowboy and the Baby, everywhere. Tilly never +came out in such force before. Her ubiquity was the +theme of general admiration. She was a stumbling-block +in the passage at five and twenty minutes past +two; a man-trap in the kitchen at half-past two +precisely; and a pitfall in the garret at five and +twenty minutes to three. The Baby's head was, as it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +were, a test and touchstone for every description of +matter, animal, vegetable, and mineral. Nothing +was in use that day that didn't come, at some time or +other, into close acquaintance with it.</p> + +<p>Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go +and find out Mrs. Fielding; and to be dismally penitent +to that excellent gentlewoman; and to bring her back, +by force if needful, to be happy and forgiving. And +when the Expedition first discovered her, she would +listen to no terms at all, but said, an unspeakable +number of times, that ever she should have lived +to see the day! and couldn't be got to say anything +else, except "Now carry me to the grave;" which +seemed absurd, on account of her not being dead, or +anything at all like it. After a time, she lapsed into +a state of dreadful calmness, and observed, that when +that unfortunate train of circumstances had occurred +in the Indigo Trade, she had foreseen that she would +be exposed, during her whole life, to every species of +insult and contumely; and that she was glad to find +it was the case; and begged they wouldn't trouble +themselves about her,—for what was she? oh, dear! +a nobody!—but would forget that such a being lived,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +and would take their course in life without her. +From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she passed into +an angry one, in which she gave vent to the remarkable +expression that the worm would turn if trodden +on; and after that, she yielded to a soft regret, +and said, if they had only given her their confidence, +what might she not have had it in her +power to suggest! Taking advantage of this crisis +in her feelings, the Expedition embraced her; and +she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her +way to John Peerybingle's in a state of unimpeachable +gentility; with a paper parcel at her side containing +a cap of state, almost as tall, and quite as +stiff, as a Mitre.</p> + +<p>Then, there were Dot's father and mother to come, +in another little chaise; and they were behind their +time; and fears were entertained; and there was +much looking out for them down the road; and Mrs. +Fielding always would look in the wrong and morally +impossible direction; and being apprised thereof, +hoped she might take the liberty of looking where +she pleased. At last they came: a chubby little +couple, jogging along in a snug and comfortable little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +way that quite belonged to the Dot family: and Dot +and her mother, side by side, were wonderful to see. +They were so like each other.</p> + +<p>Then, Dot's mother had to renew her acquaintance +with May's mother; and May's mother always +stood on her gentility; and Dot's mother never stood +on anything but her active little feet. And old Dot: +so to call Dot's father; I forgot it wasn't his right +name, but never mind: took liberties, and shook +hands at first sight, and seemed to think a cap but so +much starch and muslin, and didn't defer himself at +all to the Indigo trade, but said there was no help +for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding's summing up, +was a good-natured kind of man—but coarse, my +dear.</p> + +<p>I wouldn't have missed Dot, doing the honors in +her wedding-gown: my benison on her bright face! +for any money. No! nor the good Carrier, so +jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. Nor +the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his handsome wife. +Nor any one among them. To have missed the dinner +would have been to miss as jolly and as stout a meal +as man need eat; and to have missed the overflowing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +cups in which they drank The Wedding Day, would +have been the greatest miss of all.</p> + +<p>After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the +Sparkling Bowl! As I'm a living man: hoping to +keep so, for a year or two: he sang it through.</p> + +<p>And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident +occurred, just as he finished the last verse.</p> + +<p>There was a tap at the door; and a man came +staggering in, without saying with your leave, or by +your leave, with something heavy on his head. +Setting this down in the middle of the table, symmetrically +in the centre of the nuts and apples, he said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and as he hasn't +got no use for the cake himself, p'raps you'll eat it."</p> + +<p>And with those words, he walked off.</p> + +<p>There was some surprise among the company, +as you may imagine. Mrs. Fielding, being a lady +of infinite discernment, suggested that the cake +was poisoned; and related a narrative of a +cake, which, within her knowledge, had turned a +seminary for young ladies, blue. But she was overruled +by acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, +with much ceremony and rejoicing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>I don't think any one had tasted it, when there +came another tap at the door; and the same man +appeared again, having under his arm a vast brown +paper parcel.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and he's sent a +few toys for the Babby. They ain't ugly."</p> + +<p>After the delivery of which expressions, he retired +again.</p> + +<p>The whole party would have experienced great +difficulty in finding words for their astonishment, even +if they had had ample time to seek them. But they +had none at all; for the messenger had scarcely shut +the door behind him, when there came another tap, +and Tackleton himself walked in.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Peerybingle!" said the Toy Merchant, +hat in hand. "I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than +I was this morning. I have had time to think of +it. John Peerybingle! I'm sour by disposition; +but I can't help being sweetened, more or less, +by coming face to face with such a man as you. +Caleb! This unconscious little nurse gave me a +broken hint last night, of which I have found the +thread. I blush to think how easily I might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +bound you and your daughter to me; and what +a miserable idiot I was, when I took her for one! +Friends, one and all, my house is very lonely to-night. +I have not so much as a Cricket on my +Hearth. I have scared them all away. Be gracious +to me; let me join this happy party!"</p> + +<p>He was at home in five minutes. You never saw +such a fellow. What <i>had</i> he been doing with himself +all his life, never to have known, before, his great +capacity of being jovial! Or what had the Fairies +been doing with him, to have effected such a change!</p> + +<p>"John! you won't send me home this evening; will +you?" whispered Dot.</p> + +<p>He had been very near it though!</p> + +<p>There wanted but one living creature to make the +party complete; and, in the twinkling of an eye, there +he was: very thirsty with hard running, and engaged +in hopeless endeavours to squeeze his head into a +narrow pitcher. He had gone with the cart to its +journey's-end, very much disgusted with the absence +of his master, and stupendously rebellious to the +Deputy. After lingering about the stable for some +little time, vainly attempting to incite the old horse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +to the mutinous act of returning on his own account, +he had walked into the tap-room and laid himself down +before the fire. But suddenly yielding to the conviction +that the Deputy was a humbug, and must be abandoned, +he had got up again, turned tail and come home.</p> + +<p>There was a dance in the evening. With which +general mention of that recreation, I should have left +it alone, if I had not some reason to suppose that it +was quite an original dance, and one of a most uncommon +figure. It was formed in an odd way; in this way.</p> + +<p>Edward, that sailor-fellow—a good free dashing sort +of fellow he was—had been telling them various marvels +concerning parrots, and mines, and Mexicans, and gold +dust, when all at once he took it in his head to jump +up from his seat and propose a dance; for Bertha's +harp was there, and she had such a hand upon it as +you seldom hear. Dot (sly little piece of affectation +when she chose) said her dancing days were over; <i>I</i> +think because the Carrier was smoking his pipe, and +she liked sitting by him, best. Mrs. Fielding had no +choice, of course, but to say her dancing days were +over, after that; and everybody said the same, except +May; May was ready.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="The_Dance" id="The_Dance"></a> +<img src="images/i_186.png" width="600" height="1030" alt="So, May and Edward get up, amid great applause, to dance" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>alone; and Bertha plays her liveliest tune.</div> + +<p>Well! if you'll believe me, they have not been dancing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +five minutes, when suddenly the Carrier flings his pipe +away, takes Dot round the waist, dashes out into the +room, and starts off with her, toe and heel, quite wonderfully. +Tackleton no sooner sees this, than he skims +across to Mrs. Fielding, takes her round the waist, +and follows suit. Old Dot no sooner sees this, than up +he is, all alive, whisks off Mrs. Dot into the middle of +the dance, and is the foremost there. Caleb no sooner +sees this, than he clutches Tilly Slowboy by both hands +and goes off at score; Miss Slowboy, firm in the belief +that diving hotly in among the other couples, and +effecting any number of concussions with them, is your +only principle of footing it.</p> + +<p>Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its +Chirp, Chirp, Chirp; and how the kettle hums!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But what is this! Even as I listen to them, blithely, +and turn towards Dot, for one last glimpse of a little +figure very pleasant to me, she and the rest have +vanished into air, and I am left alone. A Cricket +sings upon the Hearth; a broken child's-toy lies upon +the ground; and nothing else remains.</p> + + +<div class='copyright'>————————————<br /> +LONDON: BRADBURY AND EVANS PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.<br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='center'> +NEW EDITION OF OLIVER TWIST.<br /> +—————<br /> +<i>On the First of January will be published, to be completed in<br /> +Ten Monthly Parts, price One Shilling each,<br /> +No. I. of</i><br /> +<br /> +<span class='bigger'>OLIVER TWIST.</span><br /> +<br /> +A NEW EDITION, REVISED BY THE AUTHOR, UNIFORM WITH<br /> +"THE PICKWICK PAPERS,"<br /> +<br /> +<b>WITH TWENTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS</b><br /> +<br /> +BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.<br /> +<br /> +——————————<br /> +<br /> +<span class='small'><span class="smcap">London:</span></span><br /> +<span class='small'><span class="smcap">Printed and Published for the Author, by Bradbury and</span></span><br /> +<span class='small'><span class="smcap">Evans, 90, Fleet Street, and Whitefriars.</span></span><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<h2>Mr. Dickens's Works.</h2> + + +<div class='hang1'>MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. With Forty Illustrations +by "<span class="smcap">Phiz</span>." In one volume, price 21<i>s.</i> cloth boards.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>AMERICAN NOTES. <span class="smcap">For General Circulation.</span> +<i>Fourth Edition.</i> In two volumes, post 8vo, price 21<i>s.</i> cloth.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>BARNABY RUDGE; <span class="smcap">A Tale of the Riots of +Eighty</span>. With Seventy Eight Illustrations by <span class="smcap">G. Cattermole</span> +and <span class="smcap">H. K. Browne</span>. In one volume, price 13<i>s.</i> cloth.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. With Seventy Five +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">G. Cattermole</span> and <span class="smcap">H. K. Browne</span>. In one +volume, price 13<i>s.</i> cloth.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>SKETCHES BY "BOZ." <i>A New Edition</i>, with +Forty Illustrations by <span class="smcap">George Cruikshank</span>. In one volume, 8vo, +price 21<i>s.</i> cloth.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE PICKWICK PAPERS. With Forty Three +Illustrations by "<span class="smcap">Phiz</span>." In one volume 8vo, price 21<i>s.</i> cloth.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With Forty Illustrations +by "<span class="smcap">Phiz</span>." In one volume, 8vo, price 21<i>s.</i> cloth.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE CHIMES. <span class="smcap">A Goblin Story of some Bells +that Rang an Old Year Out and a New Year In.</span> The +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Daniel Maclise</span>, R.A.; <span class="smcap">Clarkson Stanfield</span>, +R.A.; <span class="smcap">John Leech</span>; and <span class="smcap">Richard Doyle</span>. <i>Twelfth Edition.</i> +In Foolscap 8vo, price 5<i>s.</i></div> + +<div class='hang1'>A CHRISTMAS CAROL. <span class="smcap">In Prose. Being a +Ghost Story of Christmas.</span> With Four Coloured Etchings, +and Woodcuts, by <span class="smcap">Leech</span>. <i>Tenth Edition.</i> In Foolscap 8vo, +price 5<i>s.</i></div> + +<div class='hang1'>PORTRAIT OF MR. DICKENS. Engraved by +<span class="smcap">Finden</span>, from a Painting by <span class="smcap">Daniel Maclise</span>, R.A. Price—in +quarto, plain paper, 1<i>s.;</i> folio, India paper, 2<i>s.</i></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> +<p>Text uses both hers and her's and yours and your's. Varied hyphenation was retained, +for example, teaboard and tea-board.</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> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH *** + +***** This file should be named 37581-h.htm or 37581-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/5/8/37581/ + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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