 Chapter 33, Part 1 of Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens. Chapter 33, Further Proceedings in Eden and a Proceeding Out of It. Martin makes a discovery of some importance. Part 1. From Mr. Model to Eden is an easy and natural transition. Mr. Model, living in the atmosphere of Ms. Pexniff's love, dwelt, if he had but known it, in a terrestrial paradise. The thriving city of Eden was also a terrestrial paradise, upon the showing of its proprietors. The beautiful Ms. Pexniff might have been poetically described as a something too good for man in his fallen and degraded state. That was exactly the character of the thriving city of Eden, as poetically heightened by Zephaniah Scatter, General Choke, and other worthies. Part and parcel of the talons of that great American eagle, which is always airing itself sky-high in purest ether and never-know-never-never tumbles down with draggled wings into the mud. When Mark Tapley, leaving Martin in the architectural and surveying offices, had effectually strengthened and encouraged his own spirits by the contemplation of their joint misfortunes, he proceeded with new cheerfulness in search of help, congratulating himself as he went along on the enviable position to which he had at last attained. I used to think sometimes, said Mr. Tapley, as a desolate island would suit me, but I should only have had myself to provide for there and, being naturally an easy man to manage, there wouldn't have been much credit in that. Now, here I've got my partner to take care on, and he's something like the sort of man for the purpose. I want a man as is always a sliding off his legs when he ought to be on him. I want a man as is so low down in the school of life that he's always making figures of one in his copybook and can't get no further. This is his own great coat and cloak, and is always a wrapping himself up in himself. And I have got him too, said Mr. Tapley, after a moment's silence. What a happiness! He paused to look round, uncertain to which of the log houses he should repair. I don't know which to take, he observed. That's the truth. They're equally prepossessing outside and equally commodious, no doubt within. Being fitted up with every convenience that an alligator and a state of nature could possibly require. Let me see. The citizen as turned out last night lives underwater in the right-hand dog kennel at the corner. I don't want to trouble him if I can help it, poor man, for he is a melancholy object, a regular settler in every respect. There's a house with a window, but I am afraid of there being proud. I don't know whether a door ain't too aristocratic, but here goes for the first one. He went up to the nearest cabin and knocked with his hand. Being desired to enter, he complied. Neighbor, said Mark, for I am a neighbor, though you don't know me, I've come a-begging. Hello, hello! Am I a bed in dreaming? He made this exclamation on hearing his own name pronounced and finding himself clasped about the skirts by two little boys whose faces he had often washed and whose suppers he had often cooked on board of that noble and fast-sailing line of packet-ship the screw. My eyes is wrong, said Mark. I don't believe him. That ain't my fellow passenger yonder, a nursing-her-little girl who I am sorry to see is so delicate, and that ain't her husband has come to New York to fetch her, nor these, he added, looking down upon the boys, ain't them two young shavers as was so familiar to me, though they are uncommon like them, the woman shed tears in very joy to see him. The man shook both his hands and would not let them go. The two boys hugged his legs. The sick child in the mother's arms stretched out her burning little fingers and muttered in her horse-dry throat his well-remembered name. It was the same family, sure enough, altered by the salubrious air of Eden, but the same. This is a new sort of a morning call, said Mark, drawing a long breath. It strikes one olive a heap. Wait a little bit. I'ma coming round fast. That'll do. These gentlemen ain't my friends. Are they on the visiting list of the house? The inquiry referred to certain gaunt pigs who had walked in after him and were much interested in the heels of the family. As they did not belong to the mansion, they were expelled by the two little boys. I ain't superstitious about toads, said Mark, looking round the room, but if you could prevail upon the two or three I see in company to step out at the same time, my young friends, I think they'd find the open air refreshing. Not that I at all object to them, a very handsome animal as a toad, said Mr. Tapley, sitting down upon a stool, very spotted, very like a particular style of old gentleman about the throat. Very bright-eyed, very cool and very slippy, but one sees them to the best advantage perhaps. While pretending with such talk as this to be perfectly at his ease and to be the most indifferent and careless of men, Mark Tapley had an eye on all around him. The wan and meager aspect of the family, the changed looks of the poor mother, the fevered child she held in her lap, the air of great despondency and little hope on everything were plain to him and made a deep impression on his mind. He saw it all as clearly as with his bodily eyes he saw the rough shelves supported by pegs driven between the logs of which the house was made, the flower cask in the corner serving also for a table, the blankets, spades, and other articles against the walls, the damp that blotched the ground or the crop of vegetable rottenness in every crevice of the hut. How is it that you have come here? asked the man when their first expressions of surprise were over. Why we come by the steamer last night? replied Mark. Our intention is to make our fortunes with punctuality and dispatch and to retire upon our property as soon as ever it's realized. But how are you all? You're looking noble. We are but sickly now, said the poor woman bending over her child, but we shall do better when we are seasoned to the place. There are some here, thought Mark, whose seasoning will last forever. We shall do better to be sure you will. We shall all do better. What we've got to do is to keep up our spirits and be neighborly. We shall come all right in the end, never fear. That reminds me, by the by, that my partner's all wrong just at present and that I looked in to beg for him. I wish you'd come and give me your opinion of him, master. That must have been a very unreasonable request on the part of Mark Tapley with which, in their gratitude on board the ship, they would not have complied instantly. The man rose to accompany him without a moment's delay. Before they went, Mark took the sick child in his arms and tried to comfort the mother, but the hand of death was on it then, he saw. They found Martin in the house, lying wrapped up in his blanket on the ground. He was, to all appearance, very ill indeed, and shook and shivered horribly. Not as people do from cold, convulsion that wracked his whole body. Mark's friend pronounced his disease an aggravated kind of fever accompanied with a ewe which was very common in those parts and which he predicted would be worse tomorrow and for many more tomorrows. He had had it himself off and on, he said, for a couple of years or so, but he was thankful that while so many he had known had died about him he had escaped with life and was not too much of that, but he was very grateful that Mark, surveying his emaciated form, eaten forever. They had some medicine in their chest and this man of sad experience showed Mark how and when to administer it and how he could best alleviate the sufferings of Martin. His attentions did not stop there for he was backwards and forwards constantly and rendered Mark good service in all his brisk attempts to make their situation more and durable. Hope or comfort for the future he could not bestow. The season was a sickly one, the settlement of grave, his child died that night and Mark, keeping the secret from Martin helped to bury it beneath a tree next day. With all his various duties of attendance upon Martin who became the more exacting in his claims the worse he grew Mark worked out of doors early and late and with the assistance of his friend not that he had the least strength of heart or hope or steady purpose in so doing beyond the habitual cheerfulness of his disposition and his amazing power of self-sustainment for within himself he looked on their condition as beyond all hope and in his own words came out strong in consequence. As to coming out as strong as I could wish sir, he confided to Martin in a leisure moment that is to say one evening while he was washing the linen of the establishment after a hard day's work that I give up, it's a piece of good fortune as never as to happen to me I see. Would you wish for circumstances stronger than these Martin retorted with a groan from underneath his blanket well I only see how easy they might have been stronger sir said Mark if it wasn't for the envy of that uncommon fortune of mine which is always after me and tripping me up the night we landed here things did look pretty jolly I won't deny it, I thought they did look pretty jolly how do they look now groaned Martin ah I said Mark ah to be sure that's the question how do they look now on the very first morning of my going out what do I do, stumble on a family I know who are constantly assisting of us in all sorts of ways from that time to this that won't do, you know that ain't what I had a right to expect on a serpent and got bit or stumbled on a first grade patriot and got bowie knifed or stumbled on a lot of sympathizers with inverted shirt collars and got made a lion of I might have distinguished myself and earned some credit as it is the great object of my voyage is knocked on the head so it would be wherever I went how do you feel tonight sir worse than ever said poor Martin that's something but being very bad myself and jolly to the last will ever do me justice and heaven's name don't talk of that said Martin with a thrill of terror what should I do Mark if you were taken ill Mr. Tapley's spirits appeared to be stimulated by this remark although it was not a very flattering one he proceeded with his washing in a brighter mood and observed that his glass was arising there's one good thing in this place sir said Mr. Tapley scrubbing away scrubbing away at the linen as disposes me to be jolly and that is that it's a regular little United States in itself there's two or three American settlers left and they coolly comes over one even here sir as if it was the wholesomeest and loveliest spot in the world but they're like the cock that went and hid himself to save his life and was found out by the noise he made they can't help crowing they was born to do it glancing from his work out at the door as he said these words Mark's eyes encountered a lean person in a blue frock and a straw hat with a short black pipe in his mouth and a great hickory stick studded all over with knots in his hand who smoking and chewing as he came along and spitting frequently recorded his progress by a train of decomposed tobacco on the ground here's one of them cried Mark Hannibal Chollop put him in said Martin Feebly he won't want any letting in replied Mark he'll come in sir which turned out to be quite true for he did his face was almost as hard and knobby as his stick and so were his hands his head was like an old black hearth broom he sat down on the chest with his head on and crossing his legs and looking up at Mark said without removing his pipe well Mr. Coe and how do you get along sir it may be necessary to observe that Mr. Tapley had gravely introduced himself to all strangers by that name pretty well sir pretty well said Mark if this ain't Mr. Chuzzawit ain't it exclaimed the visitor how do you get along sir Martin shook his head and drew the blanket over it involuntarily for he felt that Hannibal was going to spit and his eye as the song says was upon him you need not regard me sir observed Mr. Chalep complacently I am fever proof and likewise agure mine was a more selfish motive said Martin looking out again I was afraid you were going to I can calculate my distance sir returned Mr. Chalep to an inch with the proof of which happy faculty he immediately favored him I require sir said Hannibal two foot clear in a circular direction and can engage myself to keep within it I have gone ten foot in a circular direction but that was for a wager I hope you want it sir said Mark well sir I realized the stakes said Chalep yes sir he was silent for a time during which he was actively engaged in the formation of a magic circle round the chest on which he sat when it was completed he began to talk again how do you like our country sir he inquired looking at Martin not at all was the invalid's reply Chalep continued to smoke without the least appearance of emotion until he felt disposed to speak again that time at length arriving he took his pipe from his mouth and said I am not surprised to hear you say so it requires an elevation and a preparation of the intellect the mind of man must be prepared for freedom Mr. he addressed himself to Mark because he saw that Martin who wished him to go being already half mad with feverish irritation which the droning voice of this new horror rendered almost insupportable had closed his eyes and turned on his uneasy bed a little bodily preparation wouldn't be a mess either would it sir said Mark in the case of a blessed old swamp like this do you consider this a swamp sir replied Chalep gravely why yes sir returned Mark I haven't a doubt about it myself the sentiment is quite European said the major and does not surprise me what would your English millions say to such a swamp in England sir they'd say it was an uncommon nasty one I should think said Mark and that they would rather be inoculated for fever in some other way European remarked Chalep with sardonic pity quite European and there he sat silent and cool as if the house for his smoking away like a factory chimney Mr. Chalep was of course one of the most remarkable men in the country but he really was a notorious person besides he was usually described by his friends in the south and west as a splendid sample of our native raw material sir and was much esteemed for his devotion to rational liberty for the better propagation whereof he usually carried a brace of revolving pistols in his coat pocket with seven barrels apiece he also carried amongst other trinkets a sword stick which he called his tickler and a great knife which for he was a man of a pleasant turn of humor he called ripper in allusion to its usefulness as a means of ventilating the stomach of any adversary in a close contest he had used these weapons with a distinguished effect in several instances all duly chronicled in the newspapers and was greatly beloved for the gallant manner in which he had jobbed out the eye of one gentleman as he was in the act of knocking at his own street door Mr. Chalep was a man of a roving disposition and in any less advanced community might have been mistaken for a violent vagabond but his fine qualities being perfectly understood and appreciated in those regions where his lot was cast and where he had many kindred spirits to consort with he may be regarded as having been born under a fortunate star which is not always the case with a man so much before the age in which he lives preferring with a view to the gratification of his tickling and ripping fancies to dwell upon the outskirts of society and in the more remote towns and cities he was in the habit of emigrating from place to place and establishing in each some business usually a newspaper which he presently sold for the most part closing the bargain by challenging, stabbing, pistoling or gouging the new editor before he had quite taken possession of the property he had come to Eden on a speculation of this kind but had abandoned it and was about to leave he always introduced himself to strangers as a worshipper of freedom was the consistent advocate of language law and slavery and invariably recommended both in print and speech the toring and feathering of any unpopular person who differed from himself he called this planting the standard of civilization in the wilder gardens of my country End of chapter 33 part 1 Chapter 33 part 2 of life and adventures of Martin Chuselwit this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Life and Adventures of Martin Chuselwit by Charles Dickens Chapter 33 part 2 there is little doubt that Chalep would have planted this standard in Eden at Mark's expense in return for his plainness of speech for the genuine freedom is dumb save when she vaunts herself but for the utter desolation and decay prevailing in the settlement and his own approaching departure from it as it was he contented himself with showing Mark one of the revolving pistols and asking him what he thought of that weapon it aint long since I shot a man down with that sir in the state of Illinois observed Chalep with the smallest agitation very free of you and very independent I shot him down sir pursued Chalep for asserting in the Spartan portico a tri-weekly journal that the ancient Athenians went ahead of the present local focal ticket and what's that asked Mark European not to know said Chalep smoking placidly European quite after a short devotion to the magic circle he resumed the conversation by observing you won't half feel yourself at home in Eden now no said Mark I don't you miss the imposts of your country you miss the house do's observed Chalep and the houses rather said Mark no window do's here sir observed Chalep and no windows to put him on said Mark there's no racks no scaffolds no thumb screws no pikes no pillories said Chalep nothing but rewallwers and bowie knives returned Mark and what are they not worth mentioning the man who had met them on the night of their arrival came crawling up at this juncture and looked in at the door well sir said Chalep how do you get along he had considerable difficulty in getting along at all Mr. Koh and me sir observed Chalep are disputating a piece he ought to be slipped up pretty smart to dispute between the old world and the new I do expect well returned the miserable shadow so he had I was merely observing sir said Mark addressing this new visitor that I looked upon the city in which we have the honor to live as being swampy what's your sentiments opinionate its moist perhaps at certain times returned the man but not as moist as England sir cried Chalep with a fierce expression in his face oh not as moist as England let alone its institutions said the man I should hope there ain't a swamp in all America's don't whip that small island into motion molasses observed Chalep decisively you bought slick straight and right away of scatter sir he answered in the affirmative Mr. Chalep winked at the other citizen scatter is a smart man sir he is a rising man he is a man as will come upwards right side up sir Mr. Chalep winked again at the other citizen he should have his right side very high up if I had my way said Mark as high up as the top of a good tall gallows perhaps Mr. Chalep was so delighted at the smartness of his excellent he'd been too much for the Britisher and if the Britishers resenting it that he could contain himself no longer and broke forth in a shout of delight but the strangest exposition of this ruling passion was in the other the pestilent stricken broken miserable shadow of a man who derived so much entertainment from the circumstance that he seemed to forget his own ruin in thinking of it and laughed outright when he said that scatter was a smart man and had drawn a lot of British capital that way as sure as sun up after a full enjoyment of this joke Mr. Hannibal Chalep set smoking and improving the circle without making any attempts either to converse or to take leave apparently laboring under the not uncommon delusion that for a free and enlightened citizen of the United States to convert another man's house into a spittoon for two or three hours together was a delicate attention full of interest and politeness of which nobody could ever tire at last he rose I am a going easy he observed Mark entreated him to take particular care of himself before I go he said sternly I have got a little word to say to you you are darnation cute you are Mark thanked him for the compliment but you are much too cute to last I can't conceive of any good painter in the bush as ever was so riddled through and through as you will be I bet what for asked Mark we must be cracked up sir retarded Chalep in a tone of menace you are not now in a despotic land we are a model to the earth and must be just cracked up I tell you what I speak to free do I cried Mark I have drawn upon a man and fired upon a man for less crowning I have no strong men of bleach to make themselves uncommon skates for less I have no men lynched for less and beaten into punk and stars for less by an enlightened people we are the intellect and virtue of the earth the cream of human nature and the flower of moral force our backs as easy ribs we must be cracked up or their rises and we snarls we shows our teeth I tell you fierce you better crack us up you had after the delivery of this caution Mr. Chalep departed with Ripper, Tickler and the revolvers all ready for action on the shortest notice come out from under the blanket sir said Mark he's gone what's this he added softly kneeling down to look into his partner's face and taking his hot hand what's come of all that chattering and swaggering he's wandering in his mind tonight and don't know me when indeed was dangerously ill very near his death he lay in that state many days during which time Mark's poor friends regardless of themselves attended him Mark fatigued in mind and body working all the day and sitting up at night worn with hard living in the unaccustomed toil of his new life surrounded by dismal and discouraging circumstances of every kind never complained or yielded in the least degree if ever he had thought Martin's selfish or inconsiderate or had deemed him energetic only by fits and starts and then too passive for their desperate fortunes he now forgot it all he remembered nothing but the better qualities of his fellow wanderer and was devoted to him heart and hand many weeks elapsed before Martin was strong enough to move about with the help of a stick in Mark's arm and even then his recovery for want of wholesome air nourishment was very slow he was yet in a feeble and weak condition when the misfortune he had so much dreaded fell upon them Mark was taken ill Mark fought against it but the malady fought harder and his efforts were in vain floored for the present sir he said one morning sinking back upon his bed but jolly floored indeed and by a heavy blow Martin might have known beforehand if Mark's friends had been kind to Martin and they had been very they were twenty times kinder to Mark and now it was Martin's turn to work and sit beside the bed and watch and listen through the long long nights to every sound in the gloomy wilderness and hear poor Mr. Tapley and his wandering fancy playing at skittles in the dragon making love remonstances to Mrs. Lupin getting his sea legs on board the screw traveling with old Tom Pinch on English roads and burning stumps of trees and Eden all at once but whenever Martin gave him drink or medicine or tended him in any way or came into the house returning from some drudgery without the patient Mr. Tapley brightened up and cried I'm jolly sir I'm jolly I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir consider best and lovely I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir I'm jolly sir and wait a minute for me to intently come back home to ask himself in what they differed. He was assisted in coming to a conclusion on this head by the frequent presence of Mark's friend, their fellow passenger, across the ocean, which suggested to him that in regard to having aided her, for example, they had differed very much. Somehow he coupled Tom Pinch with this train of reflection, and thinking that Tom would be very likely to have struck up the same sort of acquaintance under similar circumstances, began to think in what respects two people so extremely different were like each other and were unlike him. At first sight there was nothing very distressing in these meditations, but they did undoubtedly distress him for all that. Martin's nature was a frank and generous one, but he had been bred up in his grandfather's house, and it will usually be found that the meaner domestic vices propagate themselves to be their own antagonists. Selfishness does this especially. So do suspicion, cunning, stealth, and covetous propensities. Martin had unconsciously reasoned as a child, my guardian takes so much thought of himself that unless I do the like by myself, I shall be forgotten. So he had grown selfish. But he had never known it. If anyone had taxed him with the vice, he would have indignantly repelled the accusation and conceived himself unworthily as first. He never would have known it, but that being newly risen from a bit of dangerous sickness to watch by such another couch, he felt how nearly self had dropped into the grave and what a poor dependent miserable thing it was. It was natural for him to reflect. He had months to do it in upon his own escape and Mark's extremity. This led him to consider which of them could be the better spared and why. Then the curtain slowly rose a very little way, and self-self-self was shown below. He asked himself, besides when dreading Mark's disease, as all men do and must at such a time, whether he had done his duty by him, and had deserved and made a good response to his fidelity and zeal. No. Short as their companionship had been, he felt in many, many instances that there was blame against himself, and still inquiring why, the curtain slowly rose a little more, and self-self-self dilated on the scene. It was long before he fixed the knowledge of himself so firmly in his mind that he could thoroughly discern the truth. But in the hideous solitude of that most hideous place, with hope so far removed, ambition quenched, and death beside him rattling at the very door, reflection came as in a plague beleaguered town, and so he felt and knew the failing of his life and saw distinctly what an ugly spot it was. Eden was a hard school to learn so hard a lesson in, but there were teachers in the swamp and in the pestilential air who had a searching method of their own. He made a solemn resolution that when his strength returned he would not dispute the point or resist the conviction, but would look upon it as an established fact that selfishness was in his breast and must be rooted out. He was so doubtful and with justice of his own character that he determined not to say one word of vain regret or good resolve to Mark, but steadily to keep his purpose before his own eyes solely, and there was not a jot of pride in this, nothing but humility and steadfastness, the best armor he could wear. So low had Eden brought him down, so high had Eden raised him up. After a long and lingering illness, in certain forlorn stages of which, when too far gone to speak, he had feebly written jolly on a slate, Mark showed some symptoms of returning health. They came and went and flickered for a time, but he began to mend it last decidedly, and after that continued to improve from day to day. As soon as he was well enough to talk without fatigue, Martin consulted him upon a project he had in his mind, and which a few months back he would have carried into execution without troubling anybody's head but his own. Ours is a desperate case, said Martin, plainly. The place is deserted, its failure must have become known, and selling what we have bought to anyone for anything is hopeless, even if it were honest. We left home on a mad enterprise and have failed. The only hope left us, the only one end for which we have now to try, is to quit this settlement forever and get back to England, anyhow, by any means, only to get back there, Mark. That's all, sir, returned Mr. Tapley, with a significant stress upon the words, only that. Now, upon this side of the water, said Martin, we have but one friend who can help us, and that is Mr. Bevin. I thought of him when you was ill, said Mark, but for the time that would be lost I would even write to my grandfather, Martin went on to say, and implore him for money to free us from this trap into which we were so cruelly decoyed. Shall I try Mr. Bevin first? He's a very pleasant sort of a gentleman, said Mark, I think so. The few goods we brought here, and in which we spent our money, would produce something if sold, resumed Martin, and whatever they realized shall be paid him instantly, but they can't be sold here. There's nobody but corpses to buy him, said Mr. Tapley, shaking his head with a rueful air and pigs. Shall I tell him so, and only ask him for money enough to enable us by the cheapest means to reach New York, or any port from which we may hope to get a passage home by serving in any capacity, explaining to him at the same time how I am connected, and that I will endeavor to repay him even through my grandfather, immediately on our arrival in England. Why to be sure, said Mark, he can only say no, and he may say yes. If you don't mind trying him, sir. Mind, exclaimed Martin, I am to blame for coming here, and I would do anything to get away. I grieve to think of the past. If I had taken your opinion sooner, Mark, we never should have been here, I am certain. Mr. Tapley was very much surprised at this admission, but protested with great vehemence that they would have been there all the same, and that he had set his heart upon coming to Eden from the first word he had ever heard of it. Martin then read him a letter to Mr. Bevin, which he had already prepared. It was, frankly, an ingenuously written, and described their situation without the least concealment. Plainly stated the miseries they had undergone, and preferred their request in modest but straightforward terms. Mark highly commended it, and they determined to dispatch it by the next steamboat going the right way that might call to take in wood at Eden, where there was plenty of wood to spare. Not knowing how to address Mr. Bevin at his own place of abode, Martin superscribed it to the care of the memorable Mr. Norris of New York, and wrote upon the cover and in treaty that it might be forwarded without delay. More than a week elapsed before a boat appeared, but at length they were awakened very early one morning by the high pressure snorting of the Esau Slodge, named after one of the most remarkable men in the country who had been very eminent somewhere. Hurrying down to the landing place, they got it safe on board, and waiting anxiously to see the boat depart, stopped up the gangway, an instance of neglect which caused the capping of the Esau Slodge to wish he might be sifted fine as flour and whittled small as chips, that if they didn't come off that they're fixing right, smart too, he'd spill them in the drink, whereby the capping metaphorically said he'd throw them in the river. They were not likely to receive an answer for eight or ten weeks at the earliest. In the meantime they devoted such strength as they had to the attempted improvement of their land, to clearing some of it and preparing it for useful purposes. Monstrously defective as their farming was, still it was better than their neighbors, for Mark had some practical knowledge of such matters, and Martin learned of him, whereas the other settlers who remained upon the putrid swamp, a mere handful and those withered by disease, appeared to have wandered there with the idea that husbandry was the natural gift of all mankind. They helped each other after their own manner in these struggles and in all others, but they worked as hopelessly and sadly as a gang of convicts in a penal settlement. Often at night when Mark and Martin were alone and lying down to sleep, they spoke of home, familiar places, houses, roads, and people whom they knew, sometimes in the lively hope of seeing them again, and sometimes with a sorrowful tranquility as if that hope were dead. It was a source of great amazement to Mark Tapley to find, pervading all these conversations, a singular alteration in Martin. I don't know what to make of him, he thought one night. He ain't what I supposed. He don't think of himself half as much. I'll try him again. A sleep, sir? No, Mark. Thinking of home, sir? Yes, Mark. So was I, sir. I was wondering how Mr. Pinch and Mr. Pexnip gets on now. Poor Tom, said Martin thoughtfully. Weak-minded man, sir, observed Mr. Tapley, plays the organ for nothing, sir, takes no care of himself. I wish he took a little more indeed, said Martin, though I don't know why I should. We shouldn't like him half as well, perhaps. He gets put upon, sir, hinted Mark. Yes, said Martin after a short silence. I know that, Mark. He spoke so regretfully that his partner abandoned the theme and was silent for a short time until he had thought of another. Ah, sir, said Mark with a sigh, dear me, you've ventured a good deal for a young lady's love. I tell you what, I'm not so sure of that Mark, was the reply, so hastily and energetically spoken that Martin sat up in his bed to give it. I begin to be far from clear upon it. You may depend upon it. She is very unhappy. She has sacrificed her peace of mind. She has endangered her interests very much. She can't run away from those who are jealous of her and opposed to her, as I have done. She has to endure, Mark, to endure without the possibility of action, poor girl. I begin to think that she has more to bear than ever I had upon my soul I do. Mr. Tapley opened his eyes wide in the dark, but did not interrupt. And I'll tell you a secret, Mark, said Martin, since we are upon this subject. That ring. Which ring, sir? Mark inquired, opening his eyes still wider. That ring she gave me when we parted, Mark. She bought it, bought it knowing I was poor and proud. Heaven helped me, proud, and wanted money. Who says so, sir? asked Mark. I say so. I know it. I thought of it my good fellow hundreds of times while you were lying ill. And like a beast I took it from her hand and wore it on my own and never dreamed of this, even at the moment when I parted with it, when some faint glimmering of the truth might surely have possessed me. But it's late, said Martin, checking himself. And you are weak and tired, I know. You only talk to cheer me up. Good night. God bless you, Mark. God bless you, sir. But I'm regularly defrauded, thought Mr. Tapley, turning round with a happy face. It's a swindle. I never entered for this sort of service. There will be no credit in being jolly with him. The time wore on, and other steamboats coming from the point on which their hopes were fixed, arrived to take in wood, but still no answer to the letter. Rain, heat, foul slime, and noxious vapor, with all the ills and filthy things they bred, prevailed. The earth, the air, the vegetation, and the water that they drank, all teamed with deadly properties. Their fellow passenger had lost two children long before and buried now her last. Such things are much too common to be widely known or cared for. Smart citizens grow rich and friendless victims smart and die, and are forgotten. That is all. At last the boat came panting up the ugly river and stopped at Eden. Mark was waiting at the wood hut when it came, and had a letter handed to him from on board. He boarded off to Martin. They looked at one another trembling. It feels heavy, faltered Martin, and opening it a little roll of dollar notes fell out upon the ground. What either of them said or did or felt at first, neither of them knew. All Mark could ever tell was that he was at the river's bank again out of breath before the boat had gone, inquiring when it would retrace its track and put in there. The answer was in ten or twelve days, notwithstanding which they began to get their goods together and to tie them up that very night. When this stage of excitement was passed, each of them believed, they found this out and talking of it afterwards, that he would surely die before the boat returned. They lived, however, and it came after the lapse of three long crawling weeks. At sunrise on an autumn day they stood upon her deck. Courage! We shall meet again, cried Martin, waving his hand to two thin figures on the bank, in the old world. Or in the next one, added Mark below his breath, to see them standing side by side so quiet as the most the worst of all. They looked at one another as the vessel moved away, and then looked backward at the spot from which it hurried fast. The log house with the open door and drooping trees about it, the stagnant morning mist and red sun dimly seen beyond, the vapor rising up from land and river, the quick stream making the loathsome banks that washed more flat and dull, how often they returned in dreams, how often it was happiness to wake and find them shadows that had vanished. End of Chapter 33 Chapter 34 of Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens Chapter 34 In which the travelers move homeward and encounter some distinguished characters upon the way. Among the passengers on board the steamboat, there was a faint gentleman sitting on a low camp stool with his legs on a high barrel of flour as if he were looking at the prospect with his ankles who attracted their attention speedily. He had straight black hair parted up the middle of his head and hanging down upon his coat. A little fringe of hair upon his chin wore no neck cloth, a white hat, a suit of black, long in the sleeves and short in the legs, soiled brown stockings and laced shoes. His complexion naturally muddy was rendered muddier by too strict an economy of soap and water. And the same observation will apply to the washable part of his attire, which he might have changed with comfort to himself and gratification to his friends. He was about five and thirty, was crushed and jammed up in a heap under the shade of a large green cotton umbrella and ruminated over his tobacco plug like a cow. He was not singular to be sure in these respects, for every gentleman on board appeared to have had a difference with his laundress and to have left off washing himself in early youth. Every gentleman, too, was perfectly stopped up with tight plugging and was dislocated in the greater part of his joints. But about this gentleman there was a peculiar error of sagacity and wisdom which convinced Martin that he was no common character, and this turned out to be the case. How do you do, sir? said a voice in Martin's ear. How do you do, sir? said Martin. It was a tall, thin gentleman who spoke to him with a carpet cap on and a long loose coat of green bays ornamented about the pockets with black velvet. You air from Europe, sir? I am, said Martin. You air fortune it, sir. Martin thought so, too, but he soon discovered that the gentleman and he attached different meanings to this remark. You air fortune it, sir, in having an opportunity of beholding our Elijah pogrom, sir. Your Elijah pogrom, said Martin, thinking it was all one word in a building of some sort? Yes, sir. Martin tried to look as if he understood him, but he couldn't make it out. Yes, sir, repeated the gentleman, our Elijah pogrom, sir, is at this minute identically set in by the engine biler. The gentleman under the umbrella put his right forefinger to his eyebrow as if he were revolving schemes of state. That is Elijah pogrom, is it, said Martin? Yes, sir, replied the other. That is Elijah pogrom. Dear me, said Martin, I am astonished. But he had not the least idea who this Elijah pogrom was, having never heard the name in all his life. If the biler of this vessel was to bust, sir, said his new acquaintance, and to bust now, this would be a festival day in the calendar of despotism, pretty nigh equivalent, sir, in its effects upon the human race, our fourth of glorious July. Yes, sir, that is the honorable Elijah pogrom, member of Congress, one of the masterminds of our country, sir. There is a brow, sir, there. Quite remarkable, said Martin. Yes, sir, our own immortal chiggle, sir, is said to have observed when he made the celebrated pogrom statter in marble, which rose so much contest and prejudice in Europe that the brow was more than mortal. This was before the pogrom defiance, and was, therefore, a prediction cruel, smart. What is the pogrom defiance, asked Martin, thinking perhaps it was the sign of a public house? An oration, sir, returned his friend. Oh, to be sure, cried Martin. What am I thinking of? It defied the world, sir, said the other gravely. Defied the world in general to compete with our country upon any hook and developed our internal resources for making war upon the universal earth. You would like to know Elijah pogrom, sir? If you please, said Martin. Mr. Pogrom, said the stranger, Mr. Pogrom having overheard every word of the dialogue. This is a gentleman from Europe, sir. From England, sir. But generous enemies may meet upon the neutral style of private life, I think. The languid Mr. Pogrom shook hands with Martin, like a clockwork figure that was just running down, but he made amends by chewing like one that was just wound up. Mr. Pogrom, said the introducer, is a public servant, sir. When Congress is recessed, he makes himself acquainted with those free United States of which he is the gifted son. It occurred to Martin that if the honorable Elijah Pogrom had stayed at home and sent his shoes upon a tour, they would have answered the same purpose, for they were the only part of him in a situation to see anything. In course of time, however, Mr. Pogrom rose, and having ejected certain plugging consequences, which would have impeded his articulation, took up a position where there was something to lean against, and began to talk to Martin, shading himself with a green umbrella all the time. As he began with the words, How Do You Like, Martin took him up and said, The country I presume? Yes, sir, said Elijah Pogrom. A nod of passengers gathered round to hear what followed, and Martin heard his friend say, as he whispered to another friend and rubbed his hands, Pogrom will smash him into sky blue fits I know. Why, said Martin, after a moment's hesitation, I have learned by experience that you take an unfair advantage of a stranger when you ask that question. You don't mean it to be answered, except in one way. No, I don't choose to answer it in that way, for I cannot honestly answer it in that way, and therefore I would rather not answer it at all. But Mr. Pogrom was going to make a great speech in the next session about foreign relations, and was going to write strong articles on the subject. And as he greatly favored the free and independent custom, a very harmless and agreeable one, of procuring information of any sort in any kind of confidence, and afterwards, perverting it publicly in any manner that happened to suit him, he had determined to get at Martin's opinion somehow or other. For if he could have got nothing out of him, he would have had to invent it for him, and that would have been laborious. He made a mental note of his answer and went in again. You are from Eden, sir. How did you like Eden? Martin said what he thought of that part of the country in pretty strong terms. It is strange that Pogrom, looking round upon the group, this hatred of our country and her institutions, this national antipathy is deeply rooted in the British mind. Good Heaven, sir, cried Martin. Is the Eden Land Corporation, with Mr. Scatter at its head and all the misery it has worked at its door, an institution of America, a part of any form of government that ever was known or heard of? I consider the cause of this to be. Pogrom, looking round again and taking himself up where Martin had interrupted him, partly jealousy and prejudice, and partly the natural unfitness of the British people to appreciate the exalted institutions of our native land. I expect, sir, turning to Martin again, that a gentleman named Chalep happened in upon you during your location in the town of Eden. Yes, answered Martin. But my friend can answer this better than I can, for I was very ill at the time. Mark, the gentleman is speaking of Mr. Chalep. Oh, yes, sir, yes, I see him, observed Mark. A splendid example of our native raw material, sir, said Pogrom, interrogatively. Indeed, sir, cried Mark. The honorable Elijah Pogrom glanced at his friends as though he would have said, observe this, see what follows. And they rendered tribute to the Pogrom genius by a gentle murmur. Our fellow countryman is a model of a man, quite fresh from nature's mold, said Pogrom, with enthusiasm. He is a true-born child of this free hemisphere, verdant as the mountains of our country, bright and flowing as our mineral licks, unspiled by withering conventionalities, as air are broad and boundless purerors. Rough he may be, so air are bars. Wild he may be, so air are buffalors. But he is a child of nature and a child of freedom, and his boastful answer to the despot and the tyrant is that his bright home is in the set and sun. Part of this referred to Chalep, and part to a Western postmaster, who, being a public defaulter not very long before, a character not at all uncommon in America, had been removed from office, and on whose behalf, Mr. Pogrom, he voted for Pogrom, had thundered the last sentence from his seat in Congress at the head of an unpopular president. It told brilliantly, for the bystanders were delighted, and one of them said to Martin that he guessed he had now seen something of the eloquential aspect of our country, and was chaud up pretty small. Mr. Pogrom waited until his hearers were calm again before he said to Mark, You do not seem to coincide, sir. Why, said Mark, I didn't like him much, and that's the truth, sir. I thought he was a bully, and I didn't admire his carrying them murderous little persuaders and being so ready to use them. It's singler, said Pogrom, lifting his umbrella high enough to look all round from under it. It's strange. You observe the settled opposition to our institutions which pervades the British mind. What an extraordinary people you are, cried Martin. And Mr. Chalup of the class he represents an institution here. Our pistols with revolving barrels, sword sticks, bowy knives, and such things, institutions on which you pride yourselves. Our bloody duels, brutal combats, savage assaults, shooting down and stabbing in the streets, your institutions. Why, I shall hear next that dishonor and fraud are among the institutions of the great republic. The moment the words passed his lips, the honorable Elijah Pogrom looked round again. This morbid hatred of our institutions, he observed, is quite a study for the psychological observer. He's alluding to repudiation now. Oh, you may make anything an institution if you like, said Martin, laughing, and I confess you had me there, for you certainly have made that one. But the greater part of these things are one institution with us, and we call it by the generic name of old Bailey. The bell being rung for dinner at this moment, everybody ran away into the cabin. Withered the honorable Elijah Pogrom fled with such precipitation that he forgot his umbrella was up and fixed it so tightly in the cabin door that it could neither be let down nor got out. For a minute or so, this accident created a perfect rebellion among the hungry passengers behind, who, seeing the dishes and hearing the knives and forks at work, well knew what would happen unless they got there instantly and were nearly mad. While several virtuous citizens at the table were in deadly peril of choking themselves in their unnatural efforts to get rid of all the meat before these others came. They carried the umbrella by storm, however, and rushed in at the breach. The honorable Elijah Pogrom and Martin found themselves, after a severe struggle, side by side, as they might have come together in the pit of a London theatre. And for four whole minutes afterwards, Pogrom was snapping up great blocks of everything he could get hold of, like a raven. When he had taken this unusually protracted dinner, he began to talk to Martin and begged him not to have the least delicacy in speaking with perfect freedom to him, for he was a calm philosopher, which Martin was extremely glad to hear, for he had begun to speculate on Elijah being a disciple of that other school of Republican philosophy, whose noble sentiments are carved with knives upon a pupil's body, and written not with pen and ink, but tar and feathers. What do you think of my countrymen who are present, sir? inquired Elijah Pogrom. Oh, very pleasant, said Martin. They were a very pleasant party. No man had spoken a word. Everyone had been intent, as usual, on his own private gorging, and the greater part of the company were decidedly dirty feeders. The honorable Elijah Pogrom looked at Martin as if he thought, you don't mean that, I know, and he was soon confirmed in this opinion. Sitting opposite to them was a gentleman in a high state of tobacco who wore quite a little beard, composed of the overflowing of that weed, as they had dried about his mouth and chin, so common an ornament that it would scarcely have attracted Martin's observation, but that this good citizen, burning to assert his equality against all comers, sucked his knife for some moments, and made a cut with it at the butter, just as Martin was in the act of taking some. There was a juiciness about the deed that might have sickened the scavenger. When Elijah Pogrom, to whom this was an everyday incident, saw that Martin put the plate away and took no butter, he was quite delighted and said, well, the morbid hatred of you British, to the institutions of our country is astonishing. Upon my life cried Martin in his turn, this is the most wonderful community that ever existed. A man deliberately makes a hog of himself, and that's an institution. We have no time to acquire forms, sir, said Elijah Pogrom. Acquire, cried Martin, but it's not a question of acquiring anything. It's a question of losing the natural politeness of a savage and that instinctive good breeding which admonishes one man not to offend and disgust another. Don't you think that man over the way, for instance, naturally knows better, but considers it a very fine and independent thing to be a brute in small matters. He is a native of our country and is naturally bright and spry, of course, said Mr. Pogrom. Now, observe what this comes to, Mr. Pogrom, pursued Martin. The mass of your countrymen begin by stubbornly neglecting little social observances which have nothing to do with gentility, custom usage, government, or country, but are acts of common, decent, natural human politeness. You abet them in this by resenting all attacks upon their social offenses as if they were a beautiful national feature. From disregarding small obligations, they come in regular course to disregard great ones, and so refuse to pay their debts. What they may do, or what they may refuse to do next, I don't know, but any man may see, if he will, that it will be something following in natural succession and a part of one great growth which is rotten at the root. The mind of Mr. Pogrom was too philosophical to see this, so they went on deck again, where, resuming his former post, he chewed until he was in a lethargic state of mounting to insensibility. After a weary voyage of several days, they came again to that same wharf where Mark had been so nearly left behind on the night of starting for Eden. Captain Kedgick, the landlord, was standing there and was greatly surprised to see them coming from the boat. Why, what the tern all cried the captain? Well, I do admire at this, I do. We can stay at your house until tomorrow, Captain, I suppose, said Martin. I reckon you can stay there for a twelve month, if you like, retorted Kedgick coolly, but our people won't best like your coming back. Won't like it, Captain Kedgick, said Martin. They did expect you was going to settle, Kedgick answered, as he shook his head. They've been took in, you can't deny. What do you mean, cried Martin? You didn't ought to have received him, said the captain, no you didn't. My good friend, returned Martin, did I want to receive them? Was it any act of mine? Didn't you tell me they would rile up and that I should be flayed like a wildcat and threaten all kinds of vengeance if I didn't receive them? I don't know about that, returned the captain, but when our people's frills is out there, starts up pretty stiff, I tell you. With that, he fell into the rear to walk with Mark, while Martin and Elijah Pilgrim went on to the national. We've come back alive, you see, said Mark. It ain't the thing I did expect, the captain grumbled. A man ain't got no right to be a public man unless he meets the public views. Our fashionable people wouldn't have attended his levy if they had known it. Nothing mollified the captain who persisted in taking it very ill that they had not both died in Eden. The borders at the national felt strongly on the subject, too, but it happened by good fortune that they had not much time to think about this grievance, for it was suddenly determined to pounce upon the honorable Elijah Pilgrim and give him a levy forthwith. As the general evening meal of the house was over before the arrival of the boat, Martin, Mark, and Pilgrim were taking tea and fixings at the public table by themselves. When the deputation entered to announce this honor, consisting of six gentlemen borders and a very shrill boy, Sir, said the spokesman. Mr. Pilgrim cried the shrill boy. The spokesman, thus reminded of the shrill boy's presence, introduced him. Dr. Ginnery Dunkel, sir, a gentleman of great political elements. He has recently joined us here, sir, and is an acquisition to us, sir. I do assure you. Yes, sir. Mr. Jodd, sir. Mr. Izard, sir. Mr. Julius Bibb, sir. Julius Washington Maryweather Bibb, said the gentleman himself, to himself. I beg your pardon, sir. Excuse me. Mr. Julius Washington Maryweather Bibb, sir. A gentleman in the lumber line, sir, and much esteemed. Colonel Groper, sir. Professor Piper, sir. My own name, sir, is Oscar Buffam. Each man took one slide forward as he was named, butted at the honorable Elijah Pogrom with his head, shook hands, and slid back again. The introductions being completed, the spokesman resumed. Sir. Mr. Pogrom, cried the shrill boy. Perhaps, said the spokesman, with a hopeless look, you will be so good, Dr. Ginnery Dunkel, as to charge yourself with the execution of our little office, sir. As there was nothing the shrill boy desired more, he immediately stepped forward. On the whole, it was considered to have been the severest mental exercise ever heard in the National Hotel. Tears stood in the shrill boy's eyes several times, and the whole company observed that their heads ached with the effort, as well they might. When it at last became necessary to release Elijah Pogrom from the corner, and the committee saw him safely back again to the next room, they were fervent in their admiration. Which, said Mr. Buffum, must have vent, or it will bust. To you, Mr. Pogrom, I am grateful. Toward you, sir, I am inspired with lofty veneration and with deep emotion. The sentiment to which I would propose to give expression, sir, is this. May you ever be as firm, sir, as your marble statter. May it ever be as great a terror to its enemies as you. There is some reason to suppose that it was rather terrible to its friends, being a statue of the elevated Orgoblin School in which the honorable Elijah Pogrom was represented as in a very high wind with his hair all standing on end, and his nostrils blown wide open. But Mr. Pogrom thanked his friend and countrymen for the aspiration to which he had given utterance, and the committee, after another solemn shaking of hands, retired to bed, except the doctor, who immediately repaired to the newspaper office, and there wrote a short poem suggested by the events of the evening, beginning with 14 stars and headed a fragment suggested by witnessing the honorable Elijah Pogrom engaged in a philosophical disputation with three of Columbia's fairest daughters, by Dr. Ginnery Dunkel of Troy. If Pogrom was as glad to get to bed as Martin was, he must have been well rewarded for his labors. They started off again next day, Martin and Mark previously disposing of their goods to the storekeepers of whom they had purchased them for anything they would bring, and were fellow travelers to within a short distance of New York. When Pogrom was about to leave them, he grew thoughtful, and after pondering for some time took Martin aside. We are going to part, sir, said Pogrom. Pray don't distress yourself, said Martin. We must bear it. It ain't that, sir, returned Pogrom, not at all, but I should wish you to accept a copy of my oration. Thank you, said Martin. You are very good. I shall be most happy. It ain't quite that, sir, neither, resumed Pogrom. Are you bold enough to introduce a copy into your country? Certainly, said Martin. Why not? Its sentiments are strong, sir, hinted Pogrom darkly. That makes no difference, said Martin. I'll take a dozen, if you like. No, sir, retorted Pogrom, not a dozen, that is more than I require. If you are content to run the hazard, sir, here is one for your Lord Chancellor, producing it, and one for your Principal Secretary of State. I should wish them to see it, sir, as expressing what my opinions air, that they may not plead ignorance at a future time, but don't get into danger, sir, on my account. There is not the least danger, I assure you, said Martin. So he put the pamphlets in his pocket, and they parted. Mr. Bevin had written in his letter that at a certain time, which fell out happily just then, he would be at a certain hotel in the city anxiously expecting to see them. To this place they repaired without a moment's delay. They had the satisfaction of finding him within and of being received by their good friend with his own warmth and heartiness. I am truly sorry and ashamed, said Martin, to have begged of you, but look at us, see what we are and judge to what we are reduced. So far from claiming to have done you any service, return to the other, I reproached myself with having been unwittingly the original cause of your misfortunes. I no more supposed you would go to Eden on such representations as you received, or indeed that you would do anything but be dispossessed by the readiest means of your idea, that fortunes were so easily made here, then I thought of going to Eden myself. The fact is I closed with the thing in a mad and sanguine manner, said Martin, and the less said about it the better for me. Mark here hadn't a voice in the matter. Well, but he hadn't a voice in any other matter, had he, returned Mr. Bevin, laughing with an air that showed his understanding of Mark and Martin too. Not a very powerful one, I am afraid, said Martin with a blush, but live and learn, Mr. Bevin, nearly die and learn. We learn the quicker. Now, said their friend, about your plans. You mean to return home at once? Oh, I think so, returned Martin hastily, for he turned pale at the thought of any other suggestion. That is your opinion too, I hope, unquestionably, for I don't know why you ever came here, though it's not such an unusual case, I am sorry to say, that we need go any farther into that. You don't know that the ship in which you came over with our friend General Flatic is in port, of course. Indeed, said Martin, yes, and is advertised to sail tomorrow. This was tempting news, but tantalizing too, for Martin knew that his getting any employment on board a ship of that class was hopeless. The money in his pocket would not pay one-fourth of the sum he had already borrowed, and if it had been enough for their passage money, he could hardly have resolved to spend it. He explained this to Mr. Bevin, and stated what their project was. Well, that's as wild as Eden every bit, returned his friend. You must take your passage like a Christian, at least as like a Christian as a four-cabin passenger can, and owe me a few more dollars than you intend. If Mark will go down to the ship and see what passengers there are, and finds that you can go in her without being actually suffocated, my advice is go. You and I will look about us in the meantime. We won't call at the Norrises unless you like, and we will all three dine together in the afternoon. Martin had nothing to express but gratitude, and so it was arranged. But he went out of the room after Mark and advised him to take their passage in the screw, though they lay upon the bare deck, which Mr. Tapley, who needed no entreaty on the subject readily promised to do. When he and Martin met again and were alone, he was in high spirits and evidently had something to communicate in which he gloried very much. I've done Mr. Bevin, sir, said Mark. Done Mr. Bevin, repeated Martin. The cook of the screw went and got married yesterday, sir, said Mr. Tapley. Martin looked at him for further explanation. And when I got on board, and the word was passed that it was me, said Mark, the mate, he comes and asks me whether I'd engage to take this said cook's place upon the passage home. For you're used to it, he says. You were always a cooking for everybody on your passage out, and so I was, said Mark, although I never cooked before. I'll take my oath. What did you say, demanded Martin? Say, cried Mark, that I'd take anything I could get. If that so, says the mate, why bring a glass of rum, which they brought according. And my wages, sir, said Mark, and highly pays your passage, and I put the rolling pin in your berth to take it. It's the easy one up in the corner. And there we are, rural Britannia and Britain's strike home. There never was such a good fellow as you are, cried Martin, seizing him by the hand. But what do you mean by doing, Mr. Bevin, Mark? Why don't you see, said Mark? We don't tell him, you know. We take his money, but we don't spend it, and we don't keep it. What we do is write him a little note, explaining this engagement, and roll it up and leave it at the bar to be given to him after we are gone. Don't you see? Martin's delight in this idea was not inferior to Mark's. It was all done as he proposed. They passed a cheerful evening, slept at the hotel, left the letter as arranged, and went off to the ship betimes next morning, with such light hearts as the weight of their past miseries engendered. Good-bye. A hundred thousand times good-bye, said Martin to their friend. How shall I remember all your kindness? How shall I ever thank you? If you ever become a rich man, or a powerful one, returned his friend, you shall try to make your government more careful of its subjects when they roam abroad to live. Tell it what you know of immigration in your own case, and impress upon it how much suffering may be prevented with the little pains. Cheerly, lads, cheerly, anchor-wage, ship in full sail, her sturdy boast-brit pointing true to England, America a cloud upon the sea behind them. Why, Cook, what are you thinking of so steadily, said Martin? Why, I was a thinking, sir, returned Mark, that if I was a painter and was called upon to paint the American eagle, how should I do it? Paint it as like an eagle as you could, I suppose. No, said Mark, that wouldn't do for me, sir. I should want to draw it like a bat for its short-sightedness, like a bantam for its bragging, like a magpie for its honesty, like a peacock for its vanity, like an ostrich for its putting its head in the mud and thinking nobody sees it. And like a phoenix for its power of springing from the ashes of its faults and vices and soaring up anew into the sky, said Martin. Well, Mark, let us hope so. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life and Adventures of Martin Cheslowit by Charles Dickens. Chapter 35. Arriving in England, Martin witnesses a ceremony from which he derives the cheering information that he has not been forgotten in his absence. It was midday and high water in the English port for which the screw was bound when, born in gallantly upon the fullness of the tide, she let go her anchor in the river. Bright as the scene was, fresh and full of motion, airy, free and sparkling, it was nothing to the life and exaltation in the breasts of the two travelers at sight of the old churches, roofs and darkened chimney stacks of home. The distant roar that swelled up hoarsely from the busy streets was music in their ears. The lines of people gazing from the wharves were friends held dear. The canopy of smoke that overhung the town was brighter and more beautiful to them than if the richest silks of Persia had been waving in the air. And though the water going on its glistening track turned ever and again aside to dance and sparkle round great ships and heave them up, and leaped from off the blades of oars a shower of diving diamonds and wantoned with the idle boats and swiftly passed in many a sportive chase through obdurate old iron rings set deep into the stonework of the keys, not even it was half subwoyant and so restless as their fluttering hearts when yearning to set foot once more on native ground. A year had passed since those same spires and roofs had faded from their eyes. It seemed to them a dozen years. Some trifling changes here and there they called to mind and wondered that they were so few and slight. In health and fortune prospect and resource they came back poorer men than they had gone away, but it was home. And though home is a name, a word, it is a strong one, stronger than magician ever spoke or spirit answered to in strongest conjuration. Being set ashore with very little money in their pockets and no definite plan of operation in their heads, they sought out a cheap tavern where they regaled upon a smoking stake and certain flowing mugs of beer as only men just landed from the sea can revel in the generous dainties of the earth. When they had feasted as two grateful tempered giants might have done, they stirred the fire, drew back the glowing curtain from the window, and making each a sofa for himself by union of the great unwieldy chairs gazed blissfully into the street. Even the street was made a fairy street by being half hidden in an atmosphere of stake and strong stout stand-up English beer. For on the window glass hung such a mist that Mr. Tapley was obliged to rise and wipe it with his handkerchief before the passengers appeared like common mortals. And even then a spiral little cloud went curling up from their two glasses of hot grog which nearly hid them from each other. It was one of those unaccountable little rooms which are never seen anywhere but in a tavern and are supposed to have got into taverns by reason of the facilities afforded to the architect for getting drunk while engaged in their construction. It had more corners in it than the brain of an obstinate man was full of mad closets into which nothing could be put that was not specially invented and made for that purpose, had mysterious shelvings and bulkheads and indications of staircases in the ceiling and was elaborately provided with a bell that rung in the room itself about two feet from the handle and had no connection whatever with any other part of the establishment. It was a little below the pavement and a buttered close upon it so that passengers graded against the window panes with their buttons and scraped it with their baskets and fearful boys suddenly coming between a thoughtful guest in the light derided him or put out their tongues as if he were a physician or made white knobs on the ends of their noses by flattening the same against the glass and vanished awfully like specters. Martin and Mark sat looking at the people as they passed debating every now and then what their first step should be. We want to see Miss Mary, of course, said Mark. Of course, said Martin, but I don't know where she is. Not having had the heart to write in our distress you yourself thought silence most advisable and consequently never having heard from her since we left New York the first time I don't know where she is, my good fellow. My opinion is, sir, returned Mark, that what we've got to do is to travel straight to the dragon. There's no need for you to go there where you're known unless you like. You may stop ten miles short of it. I'll go on. Mrs. Lupin will tell me all the news. Mr. Pinch will give me every information that we want and right glad Mr. Pinch will be to do it. My proposal is to set off walking this afternoon to stop when we are tired, to get a lift when we can, to walk when we can't, to do it at once and do it cheap. Unless we do it cheap we shall have some difficulty in doing it at all, said Martin, pulling out the bank and telling it over in his hand. The greater reason for losing no time, sir, replied Mark, whereas when you've seen the young lady and know what state of mind the old gentleman's in and all about it, then you'll know what to do next. No doubt, said Martin, you are quite right. There were raising their glasses to their lips when their hands stopped midway and their gaze was arrested by a figure which slowly, very slowly and reflectively, passed the window at that moment. Mr. Paxniff, placid, calm but proud, honestly proud, dressed with peculiar care, smiling with even more than usual blandness, pondering on the beauties of his art with a mild abstraction from all sort of thoughts and gently traveling across the disk as if he were a figure in a magic lantern. As Mr. Paxniff passed, a person coming in the opposite direction stopped to look after him with great interest and respect, almost with veneration. And the landlord, bouncing out of the house as if he had seen him too, joined this person and spoke to him and shook his head gravely and looked after Mr. Paxniff likewise. Martin and Mark sat staring at each other as if they could not believe it. But there stood the landlord and the other man still. In spite of the indignation with which this glimpse of Mr. Paxniff had inspired him, Martin could not help laughing heartily. Neither could Mark. We must inquire into this, said Martin. Ask the landlord in, Mark. Mr. Tappley retired for that purpose and immediately returned with their large-headed host in safe convoy. Pray, landlord, said Martin, who is that gentleman who passed just now in whom you were looking after? The landlord poked the fire as if, in his desire to make the most of his answer, he had become indifferent even to the price of coals and putting his hands in his pockets, said, after inflating himself to give still further effect to his reply, That, gentlemen, is the great Mr. Paxniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen. He looked from one to the other while he said it as if he were ready to assist the first man who might be overcome by the intelligence. The great Mr. Paxniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen, said the landlord has come down here to help lay the first stone of a new and splendid public building. Is it to be built from his designs, asked Martin? The great Mr. Paxniff, the celebrated architect, gentlemen, returned the landlord, who seemed to have an unspeakable delight in the repetition of these words, carried off the first premium and will erect the building. Who lays the stone, asked Martin? Our member has come down express, returned the landlord. No scrubs would do for no such a purpose. Nothing less would satisfy our directors than our member in the House of Commons who has returned upon the gentlemanly interest. Which interest is that, asked Martin? What, don't you know, returned the landlord? It was quite clear the landlord didn't. They always told him at election time that it was the gentlemanly side, and he immediately put on his top boots and voted for it. When does the ceremony take place, asked Martin? This day, replied the landlord, then pulling out his watch, he added impressively, almost this minute. Martin hastily inquired whether there was any possibility of getting in to witness it, and finding that there would be no objection to the admittance of any decent person, unless indeed the ground were full, hurried off with Mark as hard as they could go. They were fortunate enough to squeeze themselves into a famous corner on the ground, where they could see all that passed without much dread of being beheld by Mr. Pexniff in return. They were not a minute too soon, for as they were in the act of congratulating each other, a great noise was heard at some distance, and everybody looked towards the gate. Several ladies prepared their pocket-hankerchiefs for waving, and a stray teacher belonging to the charity school, being much cheered by mistake, was immensely groaned at when detected. Perhaps he has Tom pinched with him, Martin whispered Mr. Tapley. It would be rather too much of a treat for him, wouldn't it, sir? Whispered Mr. Tapley in return. There was no time to discuss the probabilities either way, for the charity school in Clean Linen came filing in two and two, so much to the self-approval of all the people present who didn't subscribe to it that many of them shed tears. A band of music followed, led by a conscientious drummer who never left off. Then came a great many gentlemen with wands in their hands, and bows on their breasts, whose share in the proceedings did not appear to be distinctly laid down, and who trod upon each other, and blocked up the entry for a considerable period. These were followed by the mayor and corporation, all clustering round the member for the gentlemanly interest, who had the great Mr. Pexniff, the celebrated architect, on his right hand, and conversed with him familiarly as they came along. Then the ladies waved their handkerchiefs and the gentlemen their hats, and the charity children shrieked, and the member for the gentlemanly interest bowed. Silence being restored, the member for the gentlemanly interest rubbed his hands and wagged his head, and looked about him pleasantly, and there was nothing this member did at which some lady or other did not burst into an ecstatic waving of her pocket handkerchief. When he looked up at the stone, they said, How graceful! When he peeped into the hole, they said, How condescending! When he chatted with the mayor, they said, How easy! When he folded his arms, they cried with one accord, How statesmanlike! Mr. Pexniff was observed, too, closely. When he talked to the mayor, they said, Oh, really, what a courtly man he was! When he laid his hand upon the mason's shoulder, giving him directions, how pleasant his demeanor to the working classes! Just the sort of man who made their toil a pleasure to them, poor dear souls! But now a silver trowel was brought, and when the member for the gentlemanly interest, tucking up his coat sleeve, did a little sleight of hand with the mortar, the air was rent, so loud was the applause. The workmanlike manner in which he did it was amazing. No one could conceive where such a gentlemanly creature could have picked the knowledge up. When he had made a kind of dirt pie under the direction of the mason, they brought a little vase containing coins, the witch the member for the gentlemanly interest jingled, as if he were going to conjure. Where at, they said, how droll, how cheerful, what a flow of spirits! This put into its place an ancient scholar read the inscription, which was in Latin, not in English, that would never do. It gave great satisfaction, especially every time there was a good long substantive in the third declension, a blade of case with an adjective to match, at which periods the assembly became very tender and were much affected. And now the stone was lowered down into its place amidst the shouting of the concourse. When it was firmly fixed, the member for the gentlemanly interest struck upon it thrice with the handle of the trowel, as if inquiring with a touch of humor, whether anybody was at home. Mr. Pexnip then unrolled his plans, prodigious plans they were, and people gathered round to look at and admire them. Martin, who had been fretting himself, quite unnecessarily, as Mark thought, during the whole of these proceedings, could no longer restrain his impatience, but stepping forward among several others, looked straight over the shoulder of the unconscious Mr. Pexnip at the designs and plans he had unrolled. He returned to Mark, boiling with rage. Why, what's the matter, sir? cried Mark. Matter, this is my building. Your building, sir, said Mark. My grammar school. I invented it. I did it all. He has only put four windows in the villain and spoiled it. Mark could hardly believe it at first, but being assured that it was really so, actually held him to prevent his interference foolishly until his temporary heat was passed. In the meantime, the member addressed the company on the gratifying deed which he had just performed. He said that since he had sat in Parliament to represent the gentlemanly interest of that town, and he might add the lady interest, he hoped, besides pocket handkerchiefs, it had been his pleasant duty to come among them and to raise his voice on their behalf in another place, pocket handkerchiefs and laughter, often. But he had never come among them and had never raised his voice with half such pure, such deep, such unalloyed delight as now. The present occasion, he said, will ever be memorable to me. Not only for the reasons I have assigned, but because it has afforded me an opportunity of becoming personally known to a gentleman, here he pointed the trowel at Mr. Pexnip, who was greeted with vociferous cheering and laid his hand upon his heart. To a gentleman who I am happy to believe will reap both distinction and profit from this field, whose fame had previously penetrated to me as to whose ears has it not, but whose intellectual countenance I never had the distinguished honor to behold until this day and whose intellectual conversation I had never before the improving pleasure to enjoy. Everybody seemed very glad of this and applauded more than ever. But I hoped my honorable friend, said the gentlemanly member, of course he added, if he will allow me to call him so, and of course Mr. Pexnip bowed, will give me many opportunities of cultivating the knowledge of him, and that I may have the extraordinary gratification of reflecting in after-time that I laid on this day two first stones, both belonging to structures which shall last my life. Great cheering again, all this time Martin was cursing Mr. Pexnip uphill and down dale. My friends, said Mr. Pexnip in reply, my duty is to build, not speak, to act, not talk, to deal with marble, stone, and brick, not language. I am very much affected. God bless you. This address, pumped out apparently for Mr. Pexnip's very heart, brought the enthusiasm to its highest pitch. The pocket handkerchiefs were waved again. The charity children were admonished to grow up Pexnip's every boy among them. The corporation, gentlemen with wands, member for the gentlemanly interest, all cheered for Mr. Pexnip. Three cheers for Mr. Pexnip. Three more for Mr. Pexnip. Three more for Mr. Pexnip, gentlemen, if you please. One more gentleman for Mr. Pexnip and let it be a good one to finish with. In short, Mr. Pexnip was supposed to have done a great work and was very kindly, courteously, and generously rewarded. When the procession moved away and Martin and Mark were left almost alone upon the ground, his merits and a desire to acknowledge them formed a common topic. He was only second to the gentlemanly member. Compare the fellow's situation today with ours, said Martin bitterly. Lord bless you, sir, cried Mark. What's the use? Some architects are clever at making foundations and some architects are clever at building on them when they're made. But it'll all come right in the end, sir. It'll all come right. And in the meantime, began Martin. In the meantime, as you say, sir, we have a deal to do and far to go, so sharps the word and jolly. You are the best master in the world, Mark, said Martin. And I will not be a bad scholar if I can help it. I am resolved. So come, best foot foremost, old fellow. End of Chapter 35. Chapter 36 Part 1 of Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewitt. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewitt by Charles Dickens. Chapter 36. Tom Pinch departs to seek his fortune, what he finds at starting. Part 1. Oh, what a different town Salisbury was in Tom Pinch's eyes to be sure when the substantial peck sniff of his heart melted away into an idle dream. He possessed the same faith in the wonderful shops, the same intensified appreciation of the mystery and wickedness of the place made the same exalted estimate of its wealth, population and resources. And yet it was not the old city nor anything like it. He walked into the market while they were getting breakfast ready for him at the inn. And though it was the same market as of old, crowded by the same buyers and sellers, brisk with the same business, noisy with the same confusion of tongues and cluttering of fouls and coops, fair with the same display of rolls of butter, newly made, set forth in linen cloths of dazzling whiteness, green with the same fresh snow of dewy vegetables, dainty with the same array in higgler's baskets of small shaving glasses, laces, braces, trouser straps and hardware, savory with the same unstinted show of delicate pigs feet and pies made precious by the pork that once had walked upon them. Still it was strangely changed to Tom. For in the center of the marketplace, he missed the statue he had set up there as in all other places of his personal resort. And it looked cold and bare without that ornament. The change lay no deeper than this. For Tom was far from being sage enough to know that having been disappointed in one man, it would have been a strictly rational and eminently wise proceeding to have revenged himself upon mankind in general by mistrusting them one and all. Indeed, this piece of justice, though it is upheld by the authority of diverse profound poets and honorable men, bears a nearer resemblance to the justice of that good busier in the thousand and one knights who issues orders for the destruction of all the porters in Baghdad, because one of that unfortunate fraternity is supposed to have misconducted himself than to any logical, not to say Christian system of conduct known to the world in later times. Tom had so long been used to steep the pecsnip of his fancy in his tea and spread him out upon his toast and take him as a relish with his beer that he made but a poor breakfast on the first morning after his expulsion. Nor did he much improve his appetite for dinner by seriously considering his own affairs and taking counsel thereon with his friend, the organist's assistant. The organist's assistant gave it as his decided opinion that whatever Tom did he must go to London for there was no place like it, which may be true in the main, though hardly perhaps in itself a sufficient reason for Tom's going there. But Tom had thought of London before and had coupled with it thoughts of his sister and of his old friend John Westlock, whose advice he naturally felt disposed to seek in this important crisis of his fortunes. To London, therefore, he resolved to go and he went away to the coach office at once to secure his place. The coach, being already full, he was obliged to postpone his departure until the next night. But even this circumstance had its bright side as well as its dark one. For though it threatened to reduce his poor purse with unexpected country charges, it afforded him an opportunity of writing to Mrs. Lupin and appointing his box to be brought to the old finger post at the old time, which would enable him to take that treasure with him to the metropolis and save the expense of its carriage. So, said Tom, comforting himself, it's very nearly as broad as its long. And it cannot be denied that when he had made up his mind to even this extent, he felt an unaccustomed sense of freedom, a vague and indistinct impression of holiday-making, which was very luxurious. He had his moments of depression and anxiety and they were, with good reason, pretty numerous. But still, it was wonderfully pleasant to reflect that he was his own master and could plan and scheme for himself. It was startling, thrilling, vast, difficult to understand. It was a stupendous truth, teeming with responsibility and self-distrust. But in spite of all his cares, it gave a curious relish to the Vians at the inn and interposed a dreamy haze between him and his prospects, in which they sometimes showed to magical advantage. In this unsettled state of mind, Tom went once more to bed in the low four-poster, to the same immovable surprise of the effigies of the former landlord and the fat ox. And in this condition passed the whole of the succeeding day. When the coach came round at last, with London blazoned in letters of gold upon the boot, it gave Tom such a turn that he was half-disposed to run away. But he didn't do it, for he took his seat upon the box instead and, looking down upon the four grays, felt as if he were another gray himself, or at all events a part of the turnout, and was quite confused by the novelty and splendor of his situation. And, really, it might have confused a less modest man than Tom to find himself sitting next to that coachman, for of all the swells that ever flourished a whip professionally, he might have been elected emperor. He didn't handle his gloves like another man, but put them on even when he was standing on the pavement quite detached from the coach, as if the four grays were, somehow or other, at the ends of the fingers. It was the same with his hat. He did things with his hat which nothing but an unlimited knowledge of horses and the wildest freedom of the road could ever have made him perfect in. Valuable little parcels were brought to him with particular instructions, and he pitched them into this hat and stuck it on again as the laws of gravity did not admit of such an event as it's being knocked off or blown off, and nothing like an accident could befall it. The guard, too, 70 breezy miles a day, were written in his very whiskers. His manners were a canter, his conversation around trot. He was a fast coach upon a downhill turnpike road. He was all paced, a wagon couldn't have moved slowly with that guard and his key bugle These were all foreshadowings of London, Tom thought, as he sat upon the box and looked about him. Such a coachman and such a guard never could have existed between Salisbury and any other place. The coach was none of your steady-going yokel coaches, but a swaggering, rakeish, dissipated London coach, up all night and lying by all day and leading a devil of a life. It cared no more for Salisbury than if it had been a hamlet. It rattled noisily through the best streets, defied the cathedral, took the worst corners sharpest, went cutting in everywhere, making everything get out of its way and spun along the open country road blowing a lively defiance out of its key bugle as its last glad parting legacy. It was a charming evening, mild and bright, and even with the weight upon his mind which arose out of the immensity and uncertainty of London, he experienced a captivating sense of rapid motion through the pleasant air. The four greys skimmed along as if they liked it quite as well as Tom did. The bugle was in as high spirits as the greys. The coachman chimed in sometimes with his voice. The wheels humed cheerfully in unison. The brass work on the harness was an orchestra of little bells and thus as they went clinking, jingling, rattling smoothly on, the whole concern from the buckles to the coupling reins to the handle of the hind boot was one great instrument of music. Yoho passed hedges, gates and trees, past cottages and barns and people going home from work. Yoho passed donkey chases drawn aside into the ditch and empty carts with rampant horses whipped up at a bound upon the little water course and held by struggling carters close to the five-barred gate until the coach had passed on the road. Yoho by churches dropped down by themselves in quiet nooks with rustic burial grounds about them where the graves are green and daisies sleep for it is evening on the bosoms of the dead. Yoho passed streams in which the cattle cool their feet and where the rushes grow. Past paddock fences, farms and rickyards, past last year's stacks cut sliced by sliced away like ruined gables old and brown. Yoho down the pebbly dip and through the merry water splash and up at a canter to the level road again. Yoho, Yoho. Was the box there when they came up to the old finger post? The box. Was Mrs. Lupin herself? Had she turned out magnificently as a hostess should in her own chaise cart and was she sitting in a mahogany chair driving her own horse dragon who ought to have been called dumpling and looking lovely? Did the stagecoach pull up beside her shaving her very wheel? And even while the guard helped her man up with the trunk, did he send the glad echoes of his bugle careering down the chimneys of the distant peck sniff as if the coach expressed its exultation in the rescue of Tom Pinch. This is kind indeed said Tom bending down to shake hands with her. Didn't mean to give you this trouble. Trouble, Mr. Pinch, cried the hostess of the dragon. Well, it's a pleasure to you I know said Tom, squeezing her hand hardly. Is there any news? The hostess shook her head. Say you saw me said Tom and that I was very bold and cheerful and not a bit downhearted and that I entreated her to be the same for all is certain to come right at last. Goodbye. You'll write when you get settled said Mrs. Lupin. When I get settled, cried Tom with an involuntary opening of his eyes. Oh yes, I'll write when I get settled. Perhaps I had better write before because I may find that it takes a little time to settle myself not having too much money and having only one friend. I shall give your love to the friend by the way you were always great with Mr. Westlock you know. Goodbye. Goodbye said Mrs. Lupin hastily producing a basket of a long bottle sticking out of it. Take this. Goodbye. Do you want me to carry it to London for you, cried Tom? She was already turning the chase cart round. No, no, said Mrs. Lupin it's only a little something for refreshment on the road. Sit fast Jack, drive on sir. Alright, goodbye. She was a quarter of a mile off before Tom collected himself and then he was waving his hand lustily and so was she. And that's the last of the old finger post thought Tom, straining his eyes, where I have so often stood to see this very coach go by and where I have parted with so many companions. I used to compare this coach to some great monster that appeared at certain times to bear my friends away into the world and now it's bearing me away to seek my fortune have a nose where and how. It made Tom Mellencolly to picture himself walking up the lane back to peck sniffs as of old and being Mellencolly he looked downwards at the basket on his knee which he had for the moment forgotten. She is the kindest and most considerate creature in the world thought Tom. Now I know that she particularly told that man of hers not to look at me on purpose to prevent my throwing him a shilling. I had it ready for him all the time and he never once looked towards me whereas that man naturally for I know him very well nothing but grin and stare upon my word the kindness of people perfectly melts me. Here he caught the coachman's eye the coachman winked remarkable fine woman for her time of life said the coachman I quite agree with you return Tom so she is. Finer than many a young and I mean to say observed the coachman a than many a young one Tom assented I don't care for him myself when they're too young this was a matter of taste which Tom did not feel himself called upon to discuss you'll seldom find them possessing correct opinions about refreshment for instance when they're too young you know said the coachman a woman must have arrived at maturity before her minds equal to coming provided with a basket like that perhaps you would like to know what it contains said Tom smiling as the coachman only left and as Tom was curious himself he unpacked it and put the articles one by one upon the foot board a cold roast foul a packet of ham and slices a crusty loaf a piece of cheese a paper of biscuits half a dozen apples a knife some butter a screw of salt and a bottle of old sherry there was a letter besides which Tom put in his pocket the coachman was so earnest in his approval of Mrs. Lupin's provident habits and congratulated Tom so warmly on his good fortune that Tom felt it necessary for the ladies' sake to explain that the basket was a strictly platonic basket and had merely been presented to him in the way of friendship when he had made the statement with perfect gravity for he felt it incumbent on him to disabuse the mind of this lax rover of any incorrect impressions on the subject he signified that he would be happy to share the gifts with him and proposed that they should attack the basket in a spirit of good fellowship at any time in the course of the night which the coachman's experience and knowledge of the road might suggest as being best adapted to the purpose from this time they chatted so pleasantly together that although Tom knew infinitely more of unicorns than horses the coachman informed his friend to guard at the end of the next stage that rum is the box seat looked he was as good a one to go as ever he wished to sit by Yoho among the gathering shades making of no account the deep reflections of the trees but scampering on through light and darkness all the same as if the light of London fifty miles away were quite enough to travel by and some to spare. Yoho beside the village green where cricket players linger yet and every little indentation made in the fresh grass by bat or wicket ball or players foot sheds out perfume on the night away with four fresh horses from the bald face stag where Topers congregate about the door admiring and the last team with traces hanging loose go roaming off towards the pond until observed and shouted after by a dozen throats while volunteering boys pursue them now with a clattering of hoofs and striking out of fiery sparks across the old stone bridge and down again into the shadowy road and through the open gate and far away away into the world Yoho Yoho behind there stop that bugle for a moment come creeping over to the front along the coach roof guard and make one at this basket not that we slacken in our pace the while not we we rather put the bits of blood upon their metal for the greater glory of the snack ah it is long since this bottle of old wine was brought into contact with the mellow breath it may depend and rare good stuff it is to wet a bugler's whistle with only try it don't be afraid of turning up your finger Bill another pull now take your breath and try the bugle Bill there is music there is a tone over the hills and far away indeed Yoho the skittish mare is all alive tonight Yoho Yoho see the bright moon high up before we know it this breath like water hedges, trees, low cottages church steeples, blighted stumps and flourishing young slips have all grown vain upon the sudden and to mean to contemplate their own fair images till morning the poplars yonder rustle that their quivering leaves may see themselves upon the ground not so the oak trembling does not become him and he watches himself in his stout old burly steadfastness the motion of a twig the moss grown gate ill poised upon its creaking hinges crippled and decayed swings to and fro before its glass like some fantastic dowager while our own ghostly likeness travels on Yoho Yoho through ditch and break upon the plowed land and the smooth along the steep hillside and steeper wall as if it were a phantom hunter clouds too and amiss upon the hollow not a dull fog that hides it but a light airy gauze like mist which in our eyes of modest admiration gives a new charm to the beauties it has spread before as real gauze has done air now and wood again so please you though we were the pope. Yoho why now we travel like the moon herself hiding this minute in a grove of trees next minute in a patch of vapor emerging now upon our broad clear course with drawing now but always dashing on our journey is a counterpart of hers Yoho a match against the moon the beauty of the night is hardly felt when day comes rushing up Yoho two stages and the country roads are almost changed to a continuous street Yoho past market gardens rows of houses, villas, crescents terraces and squares past wagons, coaches, carts past early workmen late stragglers, drunken men and sober carriers of loads past brick and mortar in its every shape and in among the rattling pavements where a jaunty seat upon a coach is not so easy to preserve Yoho down countless turnings and through countless mazy ways until an old in-yard is gained and Tom Pinch getting down quite stunned and giddy is in London five minutes before the time to said the driver as he received his fee of Tom upon my word said Tom I should not have minded very much if we had been five hours after it for at this early hour I don't know where to go or what to do with myself don't they expect you then inquired the driver who said Tom why them returned the driver his mind was so clearly running on the assumption having come to town to see an extensive circle of anxious relations and friends that it would have been pretty hard work to undeceive him Tom did not try he cheerfully evaded the subject and going into the inn fell fast asleep before a fire in one of the public rooms opening from the yard when he awoke the people in the house were all astir so he washed and dressed himself to his great refreshment after the journey by that time eight o'clock went forth at once to see his old friend John John Westlock lived in Furnables Inn High Hallborn which was within a quarter of an hour's walk of Tom's starting point but seemed a long way off by reason of his going two or three miles out of the straight road to make a shortcut when at last he arrived outside John's door two stories up he stood faltering with his hand upon the knocker and trembled from head to foot for he was rendered very nervous by the thought of having to relate what had fallen out between himself and Petsnip and he had a misgiving that John would exult fearfully in the disclosure but it must be made thought Tom sooner or later and I had better get it over rat-tat I'm afraid that's not a London knock thought Tom it didn't sound bold perhaps that's the reason why nobody answers the door it is quite certain that nobody came and that Tom stood looking at the knocker wondering where abouts in the neighborhood a certain gentleman resided who was roaring out to somebody come in with all his might bless my soul thought Tom at last perhaps he lives here and is calling to me I never thought of that can I open the door from the outside I wonder yes to be sure I can to be sure he could by turning the handle and to be sure when he did turn it the same voice came rushing out crying why don't you come in come in do you hear what are you standing there for quite violently Tom stepped from the little passage into the room from which these sounds proceeded and had barely caught a glimpse of a gentleman in a dressing gown and slippers with his boots beside him ready to put on sitting at his breakfast with a newspaper in his hand when the said gentleman at the imminent hazard of overselling his tea table made a plunge at Tom and hugged him why Tom my boy cried the gentleman Tom how glad I am to see you Mr. Westlock said Tom pinch shaking both his hands and trembling more than ever how kind you are Mr. Westlock repeated John what do you mean by that pinch you have not forgotten my Christian name I suppose no John no I have not forgotten said Thomas pinch good gracious me how kind you are I never saw such a fellow in all my life cried John what do you mean by saying that over and over again what did you expect me to be I wonder here sit down Tom and be a reasonable creature how are you my boy I am delighted to see you and I am delighted to see you said Tom it's mutual of course return Tom it always was I hope if I had known you had been coming Tom I would have had something for breakfast I would rather have such a surprise than the best breakfast in the world myself but yours is another case and I have no doubt you are as hungry as a hunter you must make out as well as you can Tom and will recompense ourselves at dinner time you take sugar I know I recollect the sugar at Pexniff's how is Pexniff when did you come to town do begin at something or other Tom there are only scraps here but they are not at all bad boar's head potted try it Tom make a beginning whatever you do what an old blade you are I am delighted to see you while he delivered himself of these words in a state of great commotion John was constantly running backwards and forwards to and from the closet bringing out all sorts of things in pots scooping extraordinary quantities of tea out of the caddy dropping French rolls into his boots pouring hot water over the butter and making a variety of similar mistakes without disconcerting himself in the least there said John sitting down for the 50th time and instantly starting up again to make some other addition to the breakfast now we are as well off as we are likely to be till dinner and now let us have the news Tom in premise how is Pexniff I don't know how he is was Tom's grave answer John Westlock put the teapot down and looked at him in astonishment I don't know how he is said to be Tom's pinch and saving that I wish him no ill I don't care I have left him John I have left him forever voluntarily why no for he dismissed me but I had first found out that I was mistaken in him and I could not have remained with him under any circumstances I grieve to say that you were right in your estimate of his character it may be a ridiculous weakness John but it has been very painful to assure you Tom had no need to direct that appealing look towards his friend in mild and gentle deprecation of his answering with a laugh John Westlock would have as soon thought of striking him down upon the floor it was all a dream of mine said Tom and it is over I'll tell you how it happened at some other time bear with my folly John I do not just now like to think or speak about it I swear to you Tom returned his friend with great earnestness of manner after remaining silent for a few moments that when I see as I do now how deeply you feel this I don't know whether to be glad or sorry that you have made the discovery at last I reproach myself with the thought that I ever gested on the subject I ought to have known better my dear friend said Tom extending his hand it is very generous and gallant to receive me and my disclosure in this spirit it makes me blush to think that I should have felt a moment's uneasiness as I came along you can't think what a weight has lifted off my mind said Tom taking up his knife and fork again and looking very cheerful I shall punish the boar's head dreadfully the host thus reminded of his duties instantly betook himself to piling up all kinds of irreconcilable and contradictory veins in Tom's plate in a very capital breakfast Tom made and very much the better for it Tom felt that's all right said John after contemplating his visitor's proceedings with infinite satisfaction now about our plans you are going to stay with me of course where's your box it's at the end said Tom I didn't intend, never mind what you didn't intend John Westlock interposed what you did intend is more to the purpose you intended in coming here to ask my advice did you not Tom certainly and to take it when I gave it to you yes rejoin Tom smiling if it were good advice which being yours I have no doubt it will be very well then don't be an obstinate old humbug in the outset Tom or I shall shut up shop and dispense none of that invaluable commodity you are on a visit to me I wish I had an organ for you Tom so do the gentlemen downstairs the gentlemen overhead I have no doubt was Tom's reply let me see in the first place you will wish to see your sister this morning pursued his friend and of course you will like to go there alone I'll walk part of the way with you and see about a little business of my own and meet you here again in the afternoon put that in your pocket Tom it's only the key of the door if you come home first you'll want it really said Tom quartering oneself upon a friend in this way there are two keys interposed John Westlock I can't open the door with them both at once can I what a ridiculous fellow you are Tom nothing particular you'd like for dinner is there oh dear no said Tom very well then you may as well leave it to me have a glass of cherry brandy Tom not a drop what remarkable chambers these are said pinch there's everything in them bless your soul Tom nothing but a few little bachelor contrivances the sort of impromptu arrangements that might have suggested themselves to Philip Quarrell or Robinson Crusoe that's all what do you say shall we walk by all means cried Tom as soon as you like end of chapter 36 part 1