 Chapter 9 of Tales from Sketches by Boz. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. RECORDING BY ALISON AIRD. Sketches by Boz. by Charles Dickens. Illustrations by George Crookshanck. Chapter 9 of Tales. Mrs. Joseph Porter. Most extensive were the preparations at Rose Villa, Clapham Rise, in the occupation of Mr. Gattleton, a stockbroker in especially comfortable circumstances, and great was the anxiety of Mr. Gattleton's interesting family, as the day fixed for the representation of the private play, which had been many months in preparation, approached. The whole family was infected with the mania for private theatricals. The house, usually so clean and tidy, was, to use Mr. Gattleton's expressive description, regularly turned out to windows. The large dining room, dismantled of its furniture and ornaments, presented a strange jumble of flats, flies, wings, lamps, bridges, clouds, thunder, and lightning, festoons and flowers, daggers and foils, and various other messes in theatrical slang, included under the comprehensive name of properties. The bedrooms were crowded with scenery. The kitchen was occupied by carpenters. Rehearsals took place every other night in the drawing room, and every sofa in the house was more or less damaged by the perseverance and spirit with which Mr. Sempronius Gattleton and Miss Lucina rehearsed the smothering scene in Othello, it having been determined that that tragedy should form the first portion of the evening's entertainments. When we're a little more perfect, I think it will go admirably, said Mr. Sempronius, addressing his core dramatique at the conclusion of the 150th rehearsal. In consideration of his sustaining of the trifling inconvenience of bearing all the expenses of the play, Mr. Sempronius had been, in the most handsome manner, unanimously elected stage manager. Evans continued Mr. Gattleton, the younger, addressing a tall, thin, pale young gentleman with extensive whiskers. Evans, you play Rodrigo beautifully. Beautifully, echoed the three Miss Gattleton's. For Mr. Evans was pronounced by all his lady friends to be quite a dear. He looked so interesting and had such lovely whiskers to say nothing of his talent for writing verses in albums and playing the flute. Rodrigo simpered and bowed. But I think, added the manager, you are hardly perfect in the fall, in the fencing scene where you are, you understand? It's very difficult, said Mr. Evans thoughtfully. I've fallen about a good deal in our counting-house lately for practice. Only I find it hurts one so. Being obliged to fall backward, you see, it bruises one's head a good deal. But you must take care, you don't knock a wing down, said Mr. Gattleton, the elder, who had been appointed prompter and who took as much interest in the play as the youngest of the company. The stage is very narrow, you know. Oh, don't be afraid, said Mr. Evans with a very self-satisfied air. I shall fall with my head off and then I can't do any harm. But he Gatt, said the manager, rubbing his hands, we shall make a decided hit in Masaniello, Harley sings that music admirably. Everybody echoed the sentiment. Mr. Harley smiled and looked foolish, not an unusual thing with him, hummed, behold how brightly breaks the morning and blushed as red as the fisherman's nightcap he was trying on. Let's see, resumed the manager, telling the numbers on his fingers. We shall have three dancing female peasants besides Svanella and four fishermen. Then there's our man Tom. He can have a pair of ducks of mine and a check shirt of Bob's and a red nightcap and he'll do for another, that's five. In the choruses, of course, we can sing at the sides and in the market scene, we can walk about in cloaks and things. When the revolt takes place, Tom must keep rushing in on one side and out on the other with a pickaxe as fast as he can. The effect will be electrical. It will look exactly as if there were an immense number of them. And in the eruptions scene, we must burn the red fire and upset the tea trays and make all sorts of noises and it's sure to do. Sure, sure, cried all the performers, una voce, and a way hurried Mr. Sempronius Gattleton to wash the burnt cork off his face and superintend the setting up of some of the amateur painted but never sufficiently to be admired scenery. Mrs. Gattleton was a kind, good-tempered, vulgar soul, exceedingly fond of her husband and children and entertaining only three dislikes. In the first place, she had a natural antipathy to anybody else's unmarried daughters. In the second, she was in bodily fear of anything in the shape of ridicule. Lastly, almost a necessary consequence of this feeling she regarded with the feelings of the most utmost horror, one Mrs. Joseph Porter over the way. However, the good folks of Clapham and its vicinity stood very much in awe of scandal and sarcasm and thus Mrs. Joseph Porter was courted and flattered and caressed and invited for much the same reason that induces a poor author without a farthing in his pocket to behave with extraordinary civility to a two-penny postman. "'Never mind, Ma,' said Miss Emma Porter in colloquy with her respected relative and trying to look unconcerned. "'If they had invited me, "'you know that neither you nor Pa would have allowed me "'to take part in such an exhibition. "'Just what I should have thought "'from your high sense of propriety,' returned the mother, "'I am glad to see, Emma, "'you know how to designate the proceeding.'" Miss P. by the by had only the week before made an exhibition of herself for four days behind a counter at a fancy fair to all and every of Her Majesty's liege subjects who were disposed to pay a shilling each for the privilege of seeing some four-dozen girls flirting with strangers and playing at shop. "'There,' said Mrs. Porter, looking out of window, "'there are two rounds of beef and a ham going in, "'clearly for sandwiches. "'And Thomas,' the pastry cook says, "'there have been twelve dozen tarts ordered "'besides blamange and jellies. "'Upon my word, think of the Miss Gattleton's "'in fancy dresses, too.' "'Oh, it's too ridiculous,' said Miss Porter hysterically. "'I'll manage to put them a little out of conceit "'with the business, however,' said Mrs. Porter, "'and out she went on her charitable errand.' "'Well, my dear Mrs. Gattleton,' said Mrs. Joseph Porter, "'after they had been closeted for some time, "'and when, by dint of indefatigable pumping, "'she had managed to extract all the news about the play. "'Well, my dear, people may say what they please. "'Indeed we know they will, for some folks are so ill-mannered. "'Ah, my dear Miss Lucina, how'd you do? "'I was just telling your mamma that I have heard it said "'that what?' "'Mrs. Porter is alluding to the play, my dear,' said Mrs. Gattleton. "'She was, I'm sorry to say, just informing me that, "'Oh, now, pray don't mention it,' interrupted Mrs. Porter. "'It's most absurd, quite as absurd as young. "'What's his name, saying he wondered how Miss Caroline, "'with such a foot and ankle, "'could have the vanity to play for Nella?' "'Highly impertinent to ever said it,' said Mrs. Gattleton, "'bridling up. "'Certainly, my dear,' chimed in the delighted Mrs. Porter, "'most undoubtedly, because, as I said, "'if Miss Caroline does play for Nella, "'it doesn't follow, as a matter of course, "'that she should think she has a pretty foot. "'And then, such puppies as these young men are, "'he had the impudence to say that, "'how far the amiable Mrs. Porter might have succeeded "'in her pleasant purpose, it is impossible to say.' "'Had not the entrance of Mr. Thomas Boulderstone, "'Mrs. Gattleton's brother, "'familiarly called in the family Uncle Tom, "'changed the course of conversation "'and suggested to her mind an excellent plan of operation "'on the evening of the play.' "'Uncle Tom was very rich "'and exceedingly fond of his nephews and nieces, "'as a matter of course, therefore, "'he was an object of great importance in his own family. "'He was one of the best-hearted men in existence, "'always in a good temper and always talking. "'It was his boast that he wore top boots on all occasions "'and had never worn a black silk neckerchief, "'and it was his pride that he remembered "'all the principle plays of Shakespeare "'from beginning to end, and so he did. "'The result of this parrot-like accomplishment was "'that he was not only perpetually quoting himself, "'but that he could never sit by "'and hear a misquotation from the swan of Avon "'without setting the unfortunate delinquent right. "'He was also something of a wag, "'never missed an opportunity of saying "'what he considered a good thing, "'and invariably laughed until he cried at anything "'that appeared to him mirth-moving or ridiculous. "'Well, girls,' said Uncle Tom, "'after the preparatory ceremony of kissing "'and how'd you doing had been gone through. "'How'd you get on? "'Know your part, say?' "'Lucina, my dear, act two, scene one, "'place left cue, unknown fate. "'What's next day? "'Go on, the heavens.' "'Oh, yes,' said Miss Lucina, "'I recollect, the heavens forbid, "'but that our loves and comforts "'should increase even as our days do grow. "'Make a pause here and there,' said the old gentleman, "'who was a great critic, "'but that our loves and comforts "'should increase,' emphasis on the last syllable, "'crease?' "'Loud, even, one, two, three, four, "'then loud again, as our days do grow, "'emphasis on days. "'That's the way, my dear, "'trust to your uncle for emphasis. "'Ah, Sem, my boy, how are you?' "'Very well, thank ye, Uncle,' returned Mr. Sempronius, "'who had just appeared, "'looking something like a ring dove "'with a small circle around each eye, "'the result of his constant corking. "'Of course, we will see you on Thursday.' "'Of course, of course, my dear boy. "'What a pity it is, your nephew, "'didn't think of making you prompter, Mr. Baldurstone,' whispered Mrs. Joseph Porter. "'You would have been invaluable.' "'Well, I flatter myself. "'I should have been tolerably up to the thing,' responded Uncle Tom. "'I must bespeak sitting next to you on the night,' resumed Mrs. Porter. "'And then, if our dear young friends here "'should be at all wrong, you will be able to enlighten me. "'I shall be so interested. "'I am sure I shall be most happy "'to give you any assistance in my power. "'Mind it, Sir Bargin, certainly.' "'I don't know how it is,' said Mrs. Gattleton "'to her daughters as they were sitting "'round the fire in the evening, "'looking over their parts. "'But I really very much wish Mrs. Joseph Porter "'wasn't coming on Thursday. "'I'm sure she's scheming something.' "'She can't make us ridiculous, however,' observed Mr. Sempronius Gattleton, hortily. "'The long-looked-forth Thursday arrived in due course "'and brought with it, "'as Mr. Gattleton, Sr., philosophically observed. "'No disappointments to speak of. "'True, it was yet a matter of doubt "'whether Cassio would be enabled to get into the dress "'which had been sent for him from the masquerade warehouse. "'It was equally uncertain whether the principal female singer "'would be sufficiently recovered from the influenza "'to make her appearance. "'Mr. Harley, the mason yellow of the night, "'was hoarse and rather unwell. "'In consequence of the great quantity of lemon "'and sugar candy he had eaten to improve his voice. "'And two flutes and a violin cello "'had pleaded severe colds. "'What of that? The audience were all coming. "'Everybody knew his part. "'The dresses were covered with tinsel and spangles. "'The white plumes looked beautiful. "'Mr. Evans had practised falling "'until he was bruised from head to foot "'and quite perfect. "'Iago was sure that in the stabbing scene "'he should make a decided hit. "'A self-taught deaf gentleman "'who had kindly offered to bring his flute "'would be a most valuable addition to the orchestra. "'Miss Jenkins' talent for the piano "'was too well known to be doubted for an instant. "'Mr. Cape had practised the violin accompaniment "'with her frequently "'and Mr. Brown, who had kindly undertaken "'at a few hours' notice to bring his violin cello, "'would no doubt manage extremely well. "'Seven o'clock came and so did the audience. "'All the rank and fashion of Clapham "'and its vicinity was first filling the theatre. "'There were the smiths, the gubbinses, "'the nixons, the dixons, the hixons, "'people with all sorts of names, "'two aldermen, a sheriff in perspective, "'so Thomas Glumper, who had been knighted "'in the last rain for carrying up an address "'on somebody's escaping from nothing. "'And last, not least, "'there were Mrs. Joseph Porter and Uncle Tom, "'seated in the centre of the third row from the stage. "'Mrs. P. amusing Uncle Tom with all sorts of stories "'and Uncle Tom amusing everyone else "'by laughing most immoderately.' "'Ting, ting, ting!' went the prompter's bell "'at eight o'clock precisely, "'and Dash went the orchestra into the overture "'to the men of Prometheus. "'The piano forte player hammered away "'with laudable perseverance, "'and the violin cello, which struck in at intervals, "'sounded very well considering. "'The unfortunate individual, however, "'who had undertaken to play the flute accompaniment "'at sight, found, from fatal experience, "'the perfect truth of the old adage, "'ought of sight, out of mind, "'for being very near-sighted "'and being placed at a considerable distance "'from his music-book, "'all he had an opportunity of doing "'was to play a bar now and then, "'in the wrong place, "'and put the other performers out. "'It is, however, but justice to Mr. Brown, "'to say that he did this to admiration. "'The overture, in fact, "'was not unlike a race "'between the different instruments. "'The piano came in first by several bars "'and a violin cello next, "'quite distancing the poor flute, "'for the deaf gentleman two-twoed away, "'quite unconscious that he was at all wrong, "'until apprised by the applause of the audience "'that the overture had concluded. "'A considerable bustle and shuffling of feet "'was then heard upon the stage, "'accompanied by whispers of, "'Here's a pretty girl, "'and what's to be done, etc.' "'The audience applauded again "'by way of raising the spirits of the performers, "'and then Mr. Sempronius desired the prompter "'in a very audible voice, "'to clear the stage and ring up. "'Ting, ting, ting,' went the bell again. "'Everybody sat down, the curtain shook, "'rose sufficiently high "'to display several pair of yellow boots "'paddling about, and there remained. "'Ting, ting, ting,' went the bell again. "'The curtain was violently convulsed, "'but rose no higher. "'The audience tittered. "'Mrs. Porter looked at Uncle Tom. "'Uncle Tom looked at everybody, "'rubbing his hands and laughing with perfect rapture. "'After as much ringing with the little bell "'as a muffin-boy would make "'in going down a tolerably long street, "'and a vast deal of whispering, "'hammering, and calling for nails and cord, "'the curtain at length rose, "'and discovered Mr. Sempronius Gattleton, "'solus, and decked for Othello. "'After three distinct rounds of applause "'during which Mr. Sempronius applied "'his right hand to his left breast "'and bowed in the most approved manner, "'the manager advanced and said, "'Ladies and gentlemen, "'I assure you it is with sincere regret "'that I regret to be compelled to inform you "'that Yago, who was to have played Mr. Wilson, "'I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen, "'but I'm naturally somewhat agitated, applause. "'I mean, Mr. Wilson, who was to have played Yago, "'is, that is, has been, "'or in other words, ladies and gentlemen, "'the fact is that I have just received a note "'in which I am informed "'that Yago is unavoidably detained "'at the post office this evening. "'Under these circumstances, "'I trust an amateur performance, "'another gentleman undertaken to read the part, "'request indulgence for a short time, "'a courtesy and kindness of a British audience, "'overwhelming applause, "'exit Mr. Sempronius Gattleton and Curtain Falls. "'The audience were, of course, exceedingly good-humoured. "'The whole business was a joke, "'and accordingly they waited for an hour "'with the utmost patience, "'being enlivened by an interlude "'of rout cakes and lemonade. "'It appeared by Mr. Sempronius's subsequent explanation "'that the delay would not have been so great "'had it not so happened "'that when the substitute Yago had finished dressing "'and just as the play was on the point of commencing, "'the original Yago unexpectedly arrived. "'The former was therefore compelled to undress "'and the latter to dress for his part, "'which, as he found some difficulty "'in getting into his clothes, "'occupied no inconsiderable time. "'At last the tragedy began in earnest. "'It went off well enough "'until the third scene of the first act "'in which Othello addresses the Senate. "'The only remarkable circumstance being "'that as Yago could not get on any of the stage-boots "'in consequence of his feet being violently swelled "'with the heat and excitement, "'he was under the necessity of playing the part "'in a pair of wellingtons, "'which contrasted rather oddly "'with his richly embroidered pantaloons. "'When Othello started with his address to the Senate, "'whose dignity was represented by the Duke, "'a carpenter, two men engaged "'on the recommendation of the gardener and a boy, "'Mrs. Porter found the opportunity she so anxiously sought. "'Mr. Sampronius proceeded, "'Most potent, grave and reverent seniors, "'my very noble and approved good masters, "'that I have tain away this old man's daughter. "'It is most true, rudermy in my speech.' "'Is that right?' whispered Mrs. Porter to Uncle Tom. "'No, tell him so, then. "'I will.' "'Sem?' called out Uncle Tom. "'That's wrong, my boy. "'What's wrong, Uncle?' demanded Othello, "'quite forgetting the dignity of his situation. "'You left something out. "'True I have married. "'Oh, ah!' said Mr. Sampronius, "'endeverring to hide his confusion as much "'and as ineffectually as the audience "'attempted to conceal their half-suppressed tittering "'by coughing with extraordinary violence. "'True I have married her. "'The very head and front of my offending "'hath this extent, no more. "'Why don't you prompt, Father? "'Because I've mislaid my spectacles,' said poor "'Mr. Gattleton, almost dead with the heat and bustle. "'There, now, it's rude am I,' said Uncle Tom. "'Yes, I know it is,' returned the unfortunate manager, "'proceeding with his part. "'It would be useless and tiresome to quote "'the number of instances in which Uncle Tom, "'now completely in his element "'and instigated by the mischievous Mrs. Porter, "'corrected the mistakes of the performers. "'Suffice it to say that having mounted his hobby, "'nothing could induce him to dismount. "'So during the whole remainder of the play, "'he performed a kind of running accompaniment "'by muttering everybody's part "'as it was being delivered in an undertone. "'The audience were highly amused. "'Mrs. Porter delighted the performers embarrassed. "'Uncle Tom never was better pleased in all his life, "'and Uncle Tom's nephews and nieces had never, "'although the declared heirs to his large property, "'so heartily wished him gathered to his fathers "'as on that memorable occasion.' "'Several other minor causes, too, "'united to damp the ardour of the dramatist's person eye. "'None of the performers could walk in their tights "'or move their arms in their jackets. "'The pantaloons were too small, "'the boots too large, "'and the swords of all shapes and sizes. "'Mr. Evans, naturally too tall for the scenery, "'war a black velvet hat with immense white plumes, "'the glory of which was lost in the flies, "'and the only other inconvenience of which "'was that when it was off his head, "'he could not put it on, "'and when it was on, he could not take it off.' "'Notwithstanding all his practice, too, "'he fell with his head and shoulders "'as neatly through one of the side scenes "'as a harlequin would jump through a panel "'in a Christmas pantomime. "'The pianoforte player, overpowered by the extreme heat "'of the room, fainted away at the commencement "'of the entertainments, "'leaving the music of Masaniello "'to the flute and violin cello. "'The orchestra complained that Mr. Harley put them out, "'and Mr. Harley declared that the orchestra "'prevented his singing a note. "'The fishermen, who were hired for the occasion, "'revolted to the very life, "'positively refusing to play "'without an increased allowance of spirits, "'and their demand being complied with, "'getting drunk in the eruption scene "'as naturally as possible. "'The red fire, which was burned "'at the conclusion of the second act, "'not only nearly suffocated the audience, "'but nearly set the house on fire into the bargain, "'and as it was, the remainder of the piece "'was acted in a thick fog. "'In short, the whole affair was, "'as Mrs. Joseph Porter triumphantly told everyone, "'a complete failure!' "'The audience went home at four o'clock in the morning, "'exhausted with laughter, suffering from severe headaches "'and smelling terribly of brimstone and gunpowder. "'The Messers Gattleton, senior and junior, "'retired to rest, with the vague idea "'of emigrating to Swan River early in the ensuing week. "'Rosevilla has once again resumed its wanted appearance. "'The dining room furniture has been replaced. "'The tables are as nicely polished as formerly. "'The horsehair chairs arranged against the wall "'as regularly as ever. "'Venetian blinds have been fitted to every window in the house "'to intercept the prying gaze of Mrs. Joseph Porter. "'The subject of theatricals is never mentioned "'in the Gattleton family, unless indeed by Uncle Tom, "'who cannot refrain from sometimes expressing his surprise "'and regret at finding that his nephews and nieces "'appear to have lost the relish they once possessed "'for the beauties of Shakespeare and quotations "'from the work of that immortal bard. "'End of Chapter Nine of Tales from Sketches by Boz. "'Recording by Alison Erd, End of Sketches by Boz "'by Charles Dickens.' "'Chapter 10, Part Two of Tales from Sketches by Boz. "'This is a LibriVox recording. "'All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. "'For more information or to volunteer, "'please visit LibriVox.org. "'Recording by David Lazarus. "'Sketches by Boz by Charles Dickens, "'illustrated by George Crookshank, "'Chapter 10, Part Two of Tales. "'Metrimony is proverbially a serious undertaking. "'Like an overweening predilection for brandy and water, "'it is a misfortune into which a man easily falls, "'and from which he finds it remarkably difficult "'to extricate himself. "'It is of no use telling a man who is timorous on these points "'that it is but one plunge and all is over. "'They say the same thing at the Old Bailey, "'and the unfortunate victims derive as much comfort "'from the assurance in the one case, as in the other. "'Mr. Watkins' total was a rather uncommon compound "'of strong, euxorious inclinations "'and an unparalleled degree of anti-connubial timidity. "'He was about fifty years of age, "'stood four feet six inches and three quarters in his socks, "'for he never stood in stockings at all, "'plump, clean, and rosy. "'He looked something like a vignette "'to one of Richardson's novels, "'and had a clean cravatish formality of manner, "'and kitchenpokeness of carriage, "'which Sir Charles Grandison himself might have envied. "'He lived on an annuity, "'which was well adapted to the individual "'who received it in one respect. "'It was rather small. "'He received it in periodical payments "'on every alternate Monday, "'but he ran himself out about a day "'after the expiration of the first week, "'as regularly as an eight-day clock. "'And then to make the comparison complete, "'his landlady wound him up, "'and he went on with a regular tech. "'Mr. Watkins' total had long lived "'in a state of single-blessedness, as bachelors say, "'or single-cursedness, as spinsters think. "'But the idea of matrimony had never ceased to haunt him, "'wrapped in profound reveries "'on this never-failing theme. "'Fancy transformed his small parlour "'in Cecil Street Strand "'into a neat house in the suburbs. "'The half-hundred-weight of coals under the kitchen stairs "'suddenly sprang up into three tons of the best wall's end. "'His small French bedstead was converted "'into a regular matrimonial foreposter, "'and in the empty chair on the opposite side of the fireplace, "'imagination seated a beautiful young lady, "'where they very little independence or will of her own, "'and a very large independence under a will of her father's.' "'Who's there?' "'Inquired Mr. Watkins-Tottle as a gentle tap "'at his room-door to serve these meditations one evening. "'Tottle, my dear fellow, how do you do?' "'Said a short elderly gentleman with a gruffish voice, "'bursting into the room and replying to the question "'by asking another. "'Totally I should drop in some evening,' said the short gentleman, as he delivered his hat into Tottle's hand "'after a little struggling and dodging. "'Delighted to see you, I'm sure,' said Mr. Watkins-Tottle, "'wishing internally that his visitor had dropped in "'to the Thames at the bottom of the street, "'instead of dropping into his parlor. "'The fortnight was nearly up, and Watkins was hard up. "'How is Mrs. Gabriel Parsons?' inquired Tottle. "'Quite well, thank you,' replied Mr. Gabriel Parsons, "'for that was the name the short gentleman reveled in. "'Here there was a pause. "'The short gentleman looked to the left hob of the fireplace. "'Mr. Watkins-Tottle stared vacancy out of countenance. "'Quite well,' repeated the short gentleman, "'when five minutes had expired. "'I may say remarkably well, and he rubbed the palms "'of his hands as hard as if he were going to strike "'a light by friction. "'What will you take?' inquired Tottle, "'with the desperate suddenness of a man who knew that, "'unless the visitor took his leave, "'he stood very little chance of taking anything else. "'Oh, I don't know. "'Have you any whiskey?' "'Why?' replied Tottle, very slowly, "'for all this was gaining time. "'I had some capital and remarkably strong whiskey last week, "'but it's all gone, and therefore its strength. "'There's much beyond proof, or in other words, "'impossible to be proved,' said the short gentleman, "'and he laughed very heartily, "'and seemed quite glad the whiskey had been drunk. "'Mr. Tottle smiled, but it was the smile of despair. "'When Mr. Gabriel Parsons had done laughing, "'he delicately insinuated that in the absence of whiskey, "'he would not be averse to brandy. "'And Mr. Watkins' Tottle, "'lighting a flat candle very ostentatiously, "'and displaying an immense key, "'which belonged to the street door, "'but which for the sake of appearances "'occasionally did duty in an imaginary wine cellar, "'left the room to entreat his landlady "'to charge their glasses and charge them in the bill. "'The application was successful. "'The spirits were speedily called, "'not from the vasty deep, but the adjacent wine vaults. "'The two short gentlemen mixed their grog, "'and then sat cosily down before the fire, "'a pair of shorts airing themselves.' "'Tottle,' said Mr. Gabriel Parsons. "'You know my way, offhand, open to say what I mean, "'mean what I say. "'Hate reserve and can't bear affection. "'One's a bad domino, which only hides what good people "'have about them without making the bad look better, "'and the other is much about the same thing "'as pinking a white cotton stocking "'to make it look like a silk one. "'Now listen to what I'm gonna say.' "'Here the little gentleman paused, "'and took a long pull at his brandy and water. "'Mr. Watkins' Tottle took a sip of his, "'stirred the fire and assumed an air "'of profound attention. "'It's a no-use hummin' an hour in about the matter,' "'resumed the short gentleman. "'You want to get married?' "'Why?' replied Mr. Watkins' Tottle evasively, "'for he trembled violently, "'and felt a sudden tingling throughout his whole frame. "'Why, I should certainly, at least I think I should like, "'won't do,' said the short gentleman, plain and free. "'Oh, there's an end to the matter. "'Do you want money?' "'You know I do. "'You admire the sex?' "'I do. "'And you like to be married?' "'Oh, certainly. "'Then you shall be. "'There's an end to that.' "'But saying Mr. Gabriel Parsons took a pinch of snuff "'and mixed another glass, "'Let me entreat you to be more explanatory,' said Tottle. "'Really, as the party principally interested, "'I cannot consent to be disposed of in this way.' "'I'll tell you,' replied Mr. Gabriel Parsons, "'warming with the subject and the brandy and water. "'I know a lady. "'She's stopping with my wife now, "'who is just the thing for you. "'Well-educated, talks French, plays the piano, "'knows a good deal about flowers and shells "'and all that sort of thing, "'and has five hundred a year "'with an uncontrolled power of disposing of it "'by her last will and testament.' "'I'll pay my addresses to her,' said Mr. Watkins Tottle. "'She isn't very young, is she? "'Not very. "'Just the thing for you. "'I've said that already. "'What colored hair has the lady?' inquired Mr. Watkins Tottle. "'The gatter hardly recollect,' replied Gabriel with coolness. "'Perhaps I ought to have observed at first. "'She wears a front.' "'A what?' ejaculated Tottle. "'One of those things with curls along here,' said Parsons, drawing a straight line across his forehead just over his eyes in illustration of his meaning. "'I know the front's black. "'I can't speak quite positively about her own hair, "'because, unless one walks behind her "'and catches a glimpse of it under her bonnet, "'one seldom sees it. "'But I should say that it was rather lighter than the front, "'a shade of a grayish tinge, perhaps.' "'Mr. Watkins Tottle looked as if he had "'certain misgivings of mind. "'Mr. Gabriel Parsons perceived it "'and thought it would be safe to begin the next attack "'without delay. "'Now, were you ever in love, Tottle?' he inquired. "'Mr. Watkins Tottle blushed up to the eyes "'and down to the chin and exhibited "'a most extensive combination of colors "'as he confessed the soft impeachment. "'I suppose you popped the question more than once "'when you were a young man. "'I beg your pardon, a younger man,' said Parsons. "'Never in my life,' replied his friend, "'apparently indignant at being suspected of such an act. "'Never. "'The fact is that I entertain, as you know, "'peculiar opinions on these subjects. "'I'm not afraid of ladies, young or old, far from it. "'But I think in compliance with the custom of the present day "'they allow too much freedom of speech and manner "'to marriageable men. "'Now, the fact is that anything like this easy freedom "'I never could acquire. "'And as I am always afraid of going too far, "'I generally say, I daresay, considered formal and cold. "'I shouldn't wonder if you were,' replied Parsons gravely. "'I shouldn't wonder. "'However, you'll be all right in this case. "'Further, strictness and delicacy of this lady's ideas "'greatly exceed your own. "'Lord bless you, I. "'When she came to our house, there was an old portrait "'of some man or other with two large black eyes, "'staring eyes, hanging up in her bedroom. "'She positively refused to go to bed there "'till it was taken down, considering it decidedly wrong.' "'I think so, too,' said Mr. Watkins-Tottel. "'Certainly. "'Then the other night, I never lost so much in my life,' resumed Mr. Gabriel Parsons. "'I had driven home in an easterly wind "'and caught a devil of a face ache. "'Well, as Fanny—that's Mrs. Parsons, you know—' "'And this friend of hers and I of Frank Ross were playing "'a rubber, I said jokingly that when I went to bed "'I should wrap my head in Fanny's flannel petticoat. "'She instantly threw up her cards and left the room. "'Well, quite right,' said Mr. Watkins-Tottel. "'She could not possibly have behaved in a more dignified manner. "'What did you do?' "'Do?' Frank took dummy, and I won sixpence. "'But didn't you apologize for hurting her feelings?' "'Devil a bit. Next morning at breakfast we talked it over. "'She contended that any reference to her flannel petticoat "'was improper. "'Men ought not to be supposed to know that such things were. "'I pleaded my coverage of being a married man. "'And what did the lady say to that?' "'Inquired Tottel deeply interested, changed her ground, "'and said that Frank being a single man, its impropriety was obvious.' "'Well, noble mind your creature,' exclaimed the unwrapped Tottel. "'Oh, both Fanny and I said at once that she was a regular cut-out for you.' "'A gleam of placid satisfaction shone on the circular face of Mr. Watkins-Tottel as he heard the prophecy. "'Is one thing I can't understand,' said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, as he rose to depart. "'I can offer the life and soul of me. "'Imagine how the juice you'll never contrive to come together. "'The lady would certainly go into convulsions if the subject were mentioned.' "'Mr. Gabriel Parsons sat down again and laughed until he was weak. "'Tottel owed him money, so he had a perfect right to laugh at Tottel's expense.' "'Mr. Watkins-Tottel feared, in his own mind, that this was another characteristic which he had in common with this modern Lucretia. He, however, accepted the invitation to dine with the Parsons' on the next day but one, with great firmness, and looked forward to the introduction, when again left alone, with tolerable composure. The son that rose on the next day but one had never beheld a spruce of personage on the outside of the Norwood stage than Mr. Watkins-Tottel. And when the coach drew up before a cardboard-looking house, with disguised chimneys and a lawn like a large sheet of green letter paper, he certainly had never lighted to his place of destination a gentleman who felt more uncomfortable. The coach stopped, and Mr. Watkins-Tottel jumped. We beg his pardon, alighted with great dignity. "'All right,' said he, and away went the coach up the hill with that beautiful aquanimity of pace for which short stages are generally remarkable. Mr. Watkins-Tottel gave a faltering jerk to the handle of the garden-gate bell. He assayed a more energetic tug, and his previous nervousness was not at all diminished by hearing the bell ringing like a fire alarm. "'Is Mr. Parsons at home?' inquired Tottel of the man who opened the gate. He could hardly hear himself speak, for the bell had not yet done tolling. "'Here I am,' shouted a voice on the lawn, and there was Mr. Gabriel Parsons in a flannel jacket, running backwards and forwards from a wicket to two hats piled on each other, and from the two hats to the wicket in the most violent manner, while another gentleman with his coat off was getting down the area of the house after a ball. When the gentleman without the coat had found it, which he did in less than ten minutes, he ran back to the hats, and Gabriel Parsons pulled up. Then the gentleman without the coat called out, play, very loudly and bold. Then Mr. Gabriel Parsons knocked the ball several yards and took another run. Then the other gentleman aimed at the wicket and didn't hit it, and Mr. Gabriel Parsons, having finished running on his own account, laid down the bat and ran after the ball, which went into a neighboring field. They called this cricket. "'Tottle, will you go in?' inquired Mr. Gabriel Parsons, as he approached him, wiping the perspiration off his face. Mr. Watkins' total declined the offer, the bare idea of accepting, which made him even warmer than his friend. "'Then we'll go into the house, as it's past four, and I shall have to wash my hands before dinner,' said Gabriel Parsons. Here, I hate ceremony, you know. Timson, that's total, total, that's Timson, bread for the church, which I fear will never be bread for him.' And he chuckled at the old joke. Mr. Timson bowed carelessly. Mr. Watkins' total bowed stiffly. Mr. Gabriel Parsons led the way to the house. He was a rich sugar baker, who mistook rudeness for honesty, and abrupt bluntness for an open and candid manner. Many besides Gabriel mistook bluntness for sincerity. Mrs. Gabriel Parsons received the visitors most graciously on the steps, and preceded them to the drawing-room. On the sofa was seated a lady of very prim appearance, and remarkably inanimate. She was one of those persons at whose age it is impossible to make any reasonable guess. Her features might have been remarkably pretty when she was younger, and they might always have presented the same appearance. Her complexion, with a slight trace of powder here and there, was as clear as that of a well-made wax doll, and her face as expressive. She was handsomely dressed, and was winding up a gold watch. Mr. Lillerton, my dear, this is our friend Mr. Watkins' total, a very old acquaintance, I assure you, said Mrs. Parsons, presenting the straffin of Cecil Street Strand. The lady rose and made a deep cursey. Mr. Watkins' total made a bow. Splendid majestic creature thought total. Mr. Timpson advanced, and Mr. Watkins' total began to hate him. Men generally discover a rival instinctively, and Mr. Watkins' total felt that his hate was deserved. May I beg, said the Reverend Gentleman, and may I beg to call upon you, Miss Lillerton, for some trifling donation to my soup-coals and blanket distribution society? Put my name down for two sovereigns, if you please, responded Miss Lillerton. You are truly charitable, madam, said the Reverend Mr. Timpson, and we know that charity will cover a multitude of sins. Let me beg you to understand that I do not say this from the supposition that you may have many sins which require palliation. Believe me, when I say that I never yet met any one who has fewer to atone for than Miss Lillerton. Something like a bad imitation of animation lighted up the lady's face, as she acknowledged the compliment. Watkins' total incurred the sin of wishing that the ashes of the Reverend Charles Timpson were quietly deposited in the churchyard of his curacy, wherever it might be. I'll tell you what, interrupted Parsons, who had just appeared with clean hands and a black coat. It's my private opinion, Timpson, that your distribution society is rather a humbug. You are so severe, replied Timpson, with a Christian smile. He disliked Parsons, but liked his dinners. So positively unjust, said Miss Lillerton. Certainly, observed total, the lady looked up. Her eyes met those of Mr. Watkins' total. She withdrew them in a sweet confusion, and Watkins' total did the same. The confusion was mutual. Why, urged Mr. Parsons, pursuing his objections, what on earth is the use of giving a man coals who has nothing to cook, or giving him blankets when he hasn't a bed, or giving him soup when he requires substantial food, like sending them ruffles when wanting a shirt? Why not give them a trifle of money, as I do, when I think they deserve it, and let them purchase what they think best? Why? Because your subscribers wouldn't see their names flourishing in print on the church door, that's the reason. Really, Mr. Parsons, I hope you don't mean to insinuate that I wish to see my name in print on the church door? Interrupted Miss Lillerton. I hope not, said Mr. Watkins' total, putting in another word and getting another glance. Certainly not, replied Parsons. I daresay you wouldn't mind singing it in writing, though, in the church register, eh? Register? What register? inquired the lady gravely. Why, the register of marriage, to be sure, replied Parsons, chuckling at the sally and glancing at total. Mr. Watkins' total thought he should have fainted for shame, and it is quite impossible to imagine what effect the joke would have had upon the lady if dinner had not been at that moment announced. Mr. Watkins' total, with an unprecedented effort of gallantry, offered the tip of his little finger. Miss Lillerton accepted it gracefully with maiden modesty, and they proceeded in due state to the dinner-table, where they were soon deposited side by side. The room was very snug, the dinner very good, and the little party in spirits. The conversation became pretty general, and when Mr. Watkins' total had extracted one or two cold observations from his neighbour, and had taken wine with her, he began to acquire confidence rapidly. The cloth was removed. Mrs. Gabriel Parsons drank four glasses of port on the plea of being a nurse just then, and Miss Lillerton took about the same number of sips on the plea of not wanting any at all. At length the ladies retired to the great gratification of Mr. Gabriel Parsons, who had been coughing and frowning at his wife for half an hour previously, signals which Mrs. Parsons never happened to observe, until she had been pressed to take her ordinary quantum, which, to avoid giving trouble, she generally did at once. Well, what do you think of her, inquired Mr. Gabriel Parsons of Mr. Watkins' total in an undertone? I doed on her with enthusiasm already, replied Mr. Watkins' total. Gentlemen, pray let us drink. The ladies, said the reverend Mr. Timson. The ladies, said Mr. Watkins' total, emptying his glass. In the fullness of confidence, he felt as if he could make love to a dozen ladies offhand. Ah! said Mr. Gabriel Parsons. I remember when I was a young man, fill your glass, Timson. I have this moment emptied it. Then fill again. I will, said Timson, suiting the action to the word. I remember, resumed Mr. Gabriel Parsons, when I was a younger man, with what a strange compound of feelings I used to drink that toast, and how I used to think every woman was an angel. Was that before you were married? Mildly inquired Mr. Watkins' total. Oh, certainly, replied Mr. Gabriel Parsons. I've never thought so since, and a precious milk-soap I must have been ever to have thought so at all. But you know I married Fanny under the oddest and most ridiculous circumstances possible. What were they if one may inquire? asked Timson, who had heard the story on an average twice a week for the last six months. Mr. Watkins' total listened attentively, in the hope of picking up some suggestion that might be useful to him in his new undertaking. I spent my wedding night in the back-kitchen chimney, said Parsons, by wherever beginning. In our back-kitchen chimney, ejaculated Watkins' total. Oh, how dreadful! There's wasn't very pleasant, replied the small host. The fact is Fanny's father and mother liked me well enough as an individual, but had a decided objection to my becoming a husband. You see, I hadn't any money in those days, and they had, and so they wanted Fanny to pick up somebody else. However, we managed to discover the state of each other's affection somehow. I used to meet her at some mutual friends' parties. At first we danced together and talked and flirted, and all that sort of thing. Then I used to like nothing so well as sitting by her side. We didn't talk so much then, but I remember I used to have a great notion of looking at her out of the extreme corner of my left eye. Then I got very miserable and sentimental, and began to write verses and use Maccassar oil. At last I couldn't bear it any longer, and after I'd walked up and down the sunny side of Oxford Street in tight boots for a week, and a devilish hot summer it was too, in the hope of meeting her, I sat down and wrote a letter, and begged her to manage to see me clandestinely, for I wanted to hear her decision from her own mouth. I said I had discovered to my perfect satisfaction that I couldn't live without her, and that if she didn't have me, I had made up my mind to take plastic acid, or take to drinking, or emigre, so to take myself off in some way or other. Well, I borrowed a pound, and bribed the housemaid to give her the note, which she did. And what was the reply, inquired Timson, who had found before that to encourage the repetition of old stories is to get a general invitation. Oh, the usual one! Fanny expressed herself very miserable, hinted at the possibility of an early grave, said that nothing should induce her to swerve from the duty she owed her parents, implored me to forget her, and find out somebody more deserving, and all that sort of thing. She said she could on no account think of meeting me unknown to her par and mar, and entreated me as she should be in a particular part of Kensington Gardens at 3.11 o'clock next morning, not to attempt to meet her there. Oh, you didn't go, of course, said Watkins' total. Didn't I? Of course I did. There she was, with the identical housemaid in perspective. In order there might be no interruption. We walked about for a couple of hours, made ourselves delightfully miserable, and were regularly engaged. Then we began to correspond, that is to say, we used to exchange about four letters a day, what we used to say, and I can't imagine. And I used to have an interview in the kitchen or the cellar or some such place every evening. Well, things went on in this way for some time, and we got fonder of each other every day. At last as our love was raised to such a pitch, and as my salary had been raised to, shortly before, we determined on a secret marriage. Fanny arranged to sleep at a friend's on the previous night. We were to be married early in the morning, and then we were to return to her home and be pathetic. She was to fall at the old gentleman's feet and bathe his boots with her tears, and I was to hug the old lady and call her mother and use my pocket handkerchief as much as possible. Married we were. Next morning two girlfriends of Fanny's, acting as bridesmaids, and a man who was hired for five shillings and a pint of porter officiated as father. Now the old lady unfortunately put off her return from Ramsgate, where she had been paying a visit until the next morning, and as we placed great reliance on her, we agreed to postpone our confession for four and twenty hours. My newly-made wife returned home, and I spent my wedding day in strolling about Hamstead Heath and execrating my father-in-law. Of course I went to comfort my dear little wife at night as much as I could with the insurance that our troubles would soon be over. I opened the garden-gate, of which I had the key, and was shown by the servants to our place of meeting, a back kitchen with a stone floor and a dresser, upon which in the absence of chairs we used to sit and make love. Me? Love? Pollock kitchen dresser? interrupted Mr. Watkins' total, whose idea of decorum was greatly outraged. Ah! on a kitchen dresser, replied Parsons, and let me tell you, old fellow, that if you were really overhead in ears in love, and had no other place to make love in, you'd be devilish glad to avail yourself of such an opportunity. However, let me see, where was I? On the dresser, suggested Timson. Oh! ah! well, here I found poor Fanny quite disconsolate and uncomfortable. The old boy had been very cross all day, which made her feel still more lonely, and she was quite out of spirits. So I put a good face on the matter and laughed it off, and said we should enjoy the pleasures of matrimonial life more by a contrast, and at length poor Fanny brightened up a little. I stopped there until about eleven o'clock, and just as I was taking my leave for the fourteenth time, the girl came running down the stairs without her shoes and a great fright to tell us that the old villain, heaven forgive me for calling him so, for he is dead and gone now, prompted I suppose by the Prince of Darkness, was coming down to draw his own beer for supper, a thing he had not done before for six months to my certain knowledge, for the cask stood in that very back kitchen. If he discovered me, the air explanation would have been out of the question, for he was so outrageously violent and when at all excited that he never would have listened to me. There was only one thing to be done. The chimney was a very wide one, it had been originally built for an oven, went out perpendicularly for a few feet, and then shot backwards and formed a sort of small cavern. My hopes and fortune, the means of our joint existence almost were at stake. I scrambled in like a squirrel, coiled myself up in this recess and, as Fanny and the girls replaced the old chimney-board, I could see the light of the candle which my unconscious father-in-law carried in his hand. I heard him draw the beer. I never heard beer run so slowly. He was just leaving the kitchen, and I was preparing to descend when down came the infernal chimney-board with a tremendous crash. He stopped and put down the candle and the jug of beer on the dresser. He was a nervous old fellow and any unexpected noise annoyed him. He coolly observed that the fireplace was never used, and sending the frightened servant into the next kitchen for a hammer and nails actually nailed up the board and locked the door on the outside. So there was I on my wedding night in the light cursey-mere trousers, fancy waistcoat and blue coat that I had been married in in the morning, in a back kitchen chimney. The bottom of which was nailed up, and the top of which had been formally raised some fifteen feet to prevent the smoke from annoying the neighbours. And there, added Mr. Gabriel Parsons as he passed the bottle, there I remained till half past seven the next morning, when the housemaid, sweetheart, who was a carpenter, unshelled me. The old dog had nailed me up so securely that at this very hour I firmly believed that no one but a carpenter could ever have got me out. And what did Mrs. Parsons' father say when he found you were married in quite Watkins' total, who, although he never saw a joke, was not satisfied until he heard a story to the very end. By the affair of the chimney so tickled his fancy that he pardoned us off hand, and allowed us something to live on till he went the way of all flesh. I spent the next night in the second floor front much more comfortable than I'd spent the preceding one. For, as you will probably guess, a pleaser Mrs. has made tea, said a middle-aged female servant bobbing into the room. That's the very housemaid that figures in my story, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons. She went into Fanny's service when we were first married and has been with us ever since. But I don't think she felt one atom of respect for me since the morning she saw me released, when she went into violent hysterics to which she has been subject ever since. Now shall we join the ladies? If you please, said Mr. Watkins' total. By all means, added the obsequious Mr. Timson and the trio made for the drawing-room accordingly. Tea being concluded and the toast and cups having been duly handed and occasionally upset by Mr. Watkins' total, a robber was proposed. They cut for partners, Mr. and Mrs. Parsons and Mr. Watkins' total and Ms. Lillerton. Mr. Timson, having conscientious scruples on the subject of card-playing, drank brandy in water, and kept up a running spa with Mr. Watkins' total. The evening went off well. Mr. Watkins' total was in high spirits, having some reason to be gratified with his reception by Ms. Lillerton, and before he left, a small party was made up to visit the Bueller Spa on the following Saturday. It's all right, I think, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons to Mr. Watkins' total as he opened the garden-gate for him. I hope so, he replied, squeezing his friend's hand. You'll be down by the first coach on Saturday, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons. Certainly, replied Mr. Watkins' total undoubtedly. But fortune had decreed that Mr. Watkins' total should not be down by the first coach on Saturday. His adventures on that day, however, and the success of his wooing, are subjects for another chapter. End of Chapter 10, Part 1 of Tales from Sketches by Boz by Charles Dickens. Recorded by David Lazarus. Chapter 10, Part 2 of Tales from Sketches by Boz. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by David Lazarus. Sketches by Boz by Charles Dickens. Illustrated by George Crookshank. Chapter 10, Part 2 of Tales The first coach has not come in yet, has it, Tom? Enquired Mr. Gabriel Parsons, as he very complacently paced up and down the fourteen feet of gravel which bordered the lawn on the Saturday morning which had been fixed upon for the Bueller spa-jaunt. No, sir, I haven't seen it! replied a gardener in a blue apron, who let himself out to do the ornamental for half a crown a day and his keep. Time-total was down, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, ruminating. Oh, here he is! No doubt! added Gabriel as a cab drove rapidly up the hill, and he buttoned his dressing-gown and opened the gate to receive the expected visitor. The cab stopped and out-jumped a man in a coarse petition-great coat, witty brown neck-achieve, faded black suit, gamboge-coloured top-boots, and one of those large-crowned hats, formerly sold and met with, but now very generally patronized by gentlemen and costamongers. Mr. Parsons? said the man, looking at the subscription of a note he held in his hand, and addressing Gabriel with an inquiring air. My name is Parsons, responded the sugar-baker. I have brought this ear-nut, replied the individual in the painted tops in a horse-whisper. I have brought this ear-nut from a gentleman as come to our house this morning. I expect the gentleman at my house, said Parsons, as he broke the seal, which bore the impression of a majesty's profile, as it is seen on a six-months. I, no doubt, the gentleman would have been here, replied the stranger, if he hadn't apt to call at our house first. But we never trust no gentleman further nor we can see him, no mistake about that there, added the unknown with a facetious grin. Beg your pardon, sir, no offence meant only once in, and I wish you may catch the idea, sir. Mr. Gabriel Parsons was not remarkable for catching anything suddenly, but a cold, he therefore only bestowed a glance of profound astonishment on his mysterious companion, and proceeded to unfold the note of which he had been the bearer, once opened, and the idea was caught with very little difficulty. Mr. Watkins' total had been suddenly arrested, for thirty-three pounds, ten shillings, and four pence, and dated his communication from a lock-up house in the vicinity of Chancery Lane. I'm fortunate of air this, said Parsons, refolding the note. Oh, nothing when you're used to it, coolly observed the man in the Petition. Tom, exclaimed Parsons, after a few minutes' consideration, just put the horse in, will you? Tell the gentleman that I shall be there almost as soon as you are. He continued, addressing the sheriff's office's mercury. Very well, replied the important functionary, adding in a confidential manner, I owe wise the gentleman's friends to settle. You see, it's got me a trifle, and unless the gentleman means to go up a fort of cord, it's hardly worthwhile waiting for the detainers, you know. Our governor's wide awake, he is. I'll never say nothing again, him, no, no, ma'am, but he knows what a clock he does, how common. Having delivered this eloquent and to Parsons particularly intelligible harangue, the meaning of which was eked out by divers' nods and winks, the gentleman in the boots reseated himself in the cab, which went rapidly off, and was soon out of sight. Mr. Gabriel Parsons continued to pace up and down the pathway for some minutes, apparently absorbed in deep meditation. The result of his cogitation seemed to be perfectly satisfactory to himself, for he ran briskly into the house, said that business had suddenly summoned him to town, that he had desired the messenger to inform Mr. Watkins' total of the fact, and they would return together to dinner. He then hastily equipped himself for a drive, and mounting his jig, was soon on his way to the establishment of Mr. Solomon Jacobs, situate, as Mr. Watkins' total had informed him, in a curse at a street chancery lane. When a man is in a violent hurry to get on, and has a specific object in view, the attainment of which depends on the completion of the journey, the difficulties which interpose themselves in his way appear not only to be innumerable, but to have been called into existence especially for the occasion. The remark is by no means a new one, and Mr. Gabriel Parsons' and practical and painful experience of its justice in the course of his drive. There are three classes of animated objects which prevent your driving with any degree of comfort or celerity through streets which are but little frequented. They are pigs, children, and old women. On this occasion we are describing the pigs were luxuriating on cabbage stalks, and the shuttlecocks fluttered from the little deal-bettledores and the children's played in the road, and women with a basket in one hand, and the street-door key in the other would cross just before the horse's head, until Mr. Gabriel Parsons was particularly savage with vexation, and quite hoarse with wheying and imprecating. Then, when he got into Fleet Street, there was a stoppage in which people in vehicles had the satisfaction of remaining stationary for half an hour and envying the slowest pedestrians, and where policemen rush about and seize hold of horse's bridles and back them into shop windows by way of clearing the road and preventing confusion. At length Mr. Gabriel Parsons turned into Chancery Lane, and having inquired for and been directed to Curseter Street, for it was a locality of which he was quite ignorant, he soon found himself opposite the house of Mr. Solomon Jacobs. Confiding his horse and jig to the care of one of the fourteen boys who had followed him from the other side of Blackfriars Bridge, on the chance of his requiring their services, Mr. Gabriel Parsons crossed the road and knocked at an inner door, the upper part of which was glass-grated like the windows of this inviting mansion with iron bars, painted white to look comfortable. The knock was answered by a salad-faced red-haired sulky boy, who, after surveying Mr. Gabriel Parsons through the glass, applied a large key to an immense wooden excrescence, which was in reality a lock, but which, taken in conjunction with the iron nails with which the panels were studded, gave the door the appearance of being subject to warts. I wonder, see, Mr. Watkins' total, said Parsons. It's the gentleman that come in this morning, jam, screamed a voice from the top of the kitchen stairs, which belonged to a dirty woman, who had just brought her chin to a level with the passage floor. The gentleman's in a coffee-room upstairs, sir, said the boy, just opening the door wide enough to let Parsons in without squeezing him, and double-locking it in the moment he had made his way through the aperture. First floor, door on the left, Mr. Gabriel Parsons, thus instructed, ascended the uncarpeted and ill-lighted staircase, and, after giving several subdued taps at the before-mentioned door on the left, which were rendered inaudible by the hum of voices within the room, and the hissing noise attended on some frying operations, which were carrying on below stairs, turned the handle, and entered the apartment, being informed that the unfortunate object of his visit had just gone upstairs to write a letter, he had leisure to sit down and observe the scene before him. The room, which was a small confined den, was petitioned off into boxes, like the common room of some inferior eating-house. The dirty floor had evidently been as long as stranger to the scrubbing-brush as to carpet or floor cloth, and the ceiling was completely blackened by the flare of the oil lamp by which the room was lighted at night. The gray ashes on the edges of the tables and the cigar ends, which were plentifully scattered around the dusty grate, fully accounted for the intolerable smell of tobacco, which pervaded the place, and the empty glasses and half-saturated slices of lemon on the tables, together with the porta-pots beneath them both bore testimony to the frequent libations in which the individuals who honoured Mr. Solomon Jacobs by a temporary residence in his house indulged. Over the mantel shelf was a poultry-looking glass, extending about half the width of the chimney piece, but by way of counter-poise the ashes were confined by a rusty fender about twice as long as the hearth. From this cheerful room itself, the attention of Mr. Gabriel Parsons was naturally directed to its inmates. In one of the boxes two men were playing at Cribbage with a very dirty pack of cards, some with blue, some with green, and some with red backs, selections from decayed packs. The Cribbage Board had been long ago formed on the table by some ingenious visitor with the assistance of a pocket-knife and a two-pronged fork, with which the necessary number of holes had been made in the table at proper distances for the reception of the wooden pegs. In another box a stout hearty-looking man of about forty was eating some dinner, which his wife, an equally comfortable-looking personage, had brought him in a basket, and in a third a gentile-looking young man was talking earnestly and in a low tone to a young female whose face was concealed by a thick veil, but whom Mr. Gabriel Parsons immediately set down on his own mind as the debtor's wife. A young fellow of vulgar manners, dressed in the very extreme of the prevailing fashion, was pacing up and down the room with a lighted cigar in his mouth, and his hands in his pockets ever and anon puffing forth volumes of smoke, and occasionally applying with much apparent relish to a pint-pot the contents of which were chilling on the hob. "'Forpons more, boy-gun,' explained one of the cribbage-players lighting a pipe and addressing his adversary at the close of the game. "'One of them you got luck in a pepper-crew it and shook it out when you wanted it.' "'Well, that ain't a bad'n,' replied the other, who was a horse-dealer from Islington. "'No, I'm blessed if it is,' interposed the jolly-looking fellow, who, having finished his dinner, was drinking out of the same glass as his wife in truly conjugal harmony, some hot gin and water. The faithful partner of his cares had brought a plentiful supply of the anti-temperance fluid in a large flat-stone bottle, which looked like a half-gallon jar that had been successfully tapped for the dropsy. "'You're a run chap, you all, Mr. Walker, would you dip your beak into this, sir?' "'Thank ye,' replied Mr. Walker, leaving his box and advancing to the other, to accept the profit-glass. "'Is your whale, sir, and your good-humans here?' "'Gentlemen all, yours and better luck still.' "'Well, Mr. Willis,' continued the facetious prisoner, addressing the young man with a cigar, "'You seem rather down to-day, Lord,' as one might say. "'What's the matter, sir? Never say, die, you know?' "'Oh, I'm all right,' replied the smoker, "'I shall be bailed out to-morrow.' "'Shall you, now?' inquired the other. "'Damn, I wish I could say the same. I'm as regularly overhead, and he is as the Royal George, and stand about as much chance of being bailed out.' "'Well,' said the young man, stopping short, and speaking in a very loud key, "'Look at me, what do you think I've stopped here for two days for?' "'Of course you couldn't get out, I suppose,' interrupted Mr. Walker, winking to the company. "'Not that you are exactly obliged to stop here, only you can't help it. No compulsion, you know, only you must, eh?' "'I'm here, Raman,' inquired the delighted individual, who had offered the gin and water of his wife. "'Are we justies?' replied the lady, who was quite overcome by these flashes of imagination. "'Why, my case, frown the victim, throwing the end of his cigar into the fire, and illustrating his argument by knocking the bottom of the pot on the table at intervals. "'My case is a very singular one. My father's a man of large property, and I am his son.' "'Well, that's a very strange circumstance,' interrupted the jocose, Mr. Walker, en passant. "'I am his son, and have received a liberal education. I don't own no man nothing. Not the value of a farvin, but I was induced, you see, to put my name on some bills for a friend. Bills to a large amount, I may say, a very large amount, for which I didn't receive no consideration. Well, what's the consequence?' "'Well, I suppose the bills went out, and you came in. The acceptances weren't taken up, and you were a,' inquired Walker. "'To be sure,' replied the liberally educated young gentleman, "'to be sure. And so here I am, locked up for a matter of twelve hundred pounds. Why, uh, don't you ask your old governor to stump up?' inquired Walker, with a somewhat skeptical air. "'Oh, bless you, he'd never do it,' replied the other, in a tone of expostulation, never. Well, it is very odd to be sure,' interposed the owner of the flat bottle, mixing another glass. But I'd been in difficulties, as one may say, now for thirty years. I went to pieces when I was a milk-walk thirty years ago afterwards, when I was a fruiterer, and kept a spring-wan, an art of that again in the coal-and-tater-line. But all that time I'd never see a youngest chap came into a place of this kind, who wasn't going out again directly, and who hadn't been arrested on bills which he'd given a friend, and for which he'd received nothing whatsoever—not a fraction.' "'Oh, it's always the cry,' said Walker. I can't see the use on it, and that's what makes me so wild. Why, I should have a much better opinion of an individual, if he'd say it once in an honourable and gentlemanly manner, as he'd done everybody possibly could. I'd be sure,' interposed the horsetailer with whose notions of bargains and sale the axiom perfectly coincided. So should I.' The young gentleman, who had given rise to these observations, was on the point of offering a rather angry reply to those sneers, but the rising of the young man before noticed, and of the female who had been sitting by him, to leave the room, interrupted the conversation. She had been weeping bitterly, and the noxious atmosphere of the room acting upon her excited feelings and delicate frame rendered the support of her companion necessary, as they quitted it together. There was an air of superiority about them both, and something in their appearance so unusual in such a place, that a respectful silence was observed, until the whir-bang of the spring-door announced that they were out of hearing. It was broken by the wife of the ex-fruiterer. "'Oh, creature,' said she, quenching a sigh in a rivulet of gin and water. She's very young. She's a noiseless woman, too,' added the horsetailer. "'What's he in for, Ikey?' inquired Walker of an individual, who was spreading a cloth with numerous blotches of mustard upon it, on one of those tables, and whom Mr. Gabriel Parsons had no difficulty in recognizing as the man who called upon him in the morning. "'Buy,' responded the factotum. "'It's one of the rummiest things you've ever heard on. He came in here last Wednesday, when, by and by, he's going over the water tonight. As ever, that's neither here nor there. You see, I've been going back and some forwards about his business, and I managed to pick up some of his story from the servants, and so far as I've been made out. He seems to be some of this ear-effect.' "'Cut it short, old fellow,' interrupted Walker, who knew from former experience that he of the top boots was neither very concise nor intelligible in his narratives. "'Let me alone,' replied Ikey, and I'll wound up and make my lucky in five seconds. This ear, young gentleman, in his father, so I'm told, mind ye, and the father of the young woman, have always been on the very bad, out-of-out regular, knock-me-down sort of terms, but somehow or another. When he was a-wisiting at some general folks' house, as he know'd at college, he came into contact with the young lady. He ceded several times, and then he up and said he'd keep company with her, as this. If so, be as she was agreeable. Well, she was as sweet upon him as he was upon her, and so I suppose they made it all right, for they got married about six months afterwards, unbeknown mind ye, it is too far thus, least way so I am told. When they heard of it, my eye, there was such a combustion. Starvation was the very least that was to be done to him. The young gentleman's father cut him off with a bob, because he cut himself off with a wife and the young lady's father. He behaved even worseer, and more unnatural, for he not only blow'd her up dreadful, and swore he'd never see her again, but he employed a chap as I know's, and as you know's, Mr. Volcker, a precious sight too well, to go about and buy up the bills, and them things on which the young husband, thinking his governor had come round again, had raised the Vin just to blow himself on Vin for the time, besides which he made all the interest he could to set other people against him. Consequence was that he'd paid as long as he could, but things he never expected to have to meet till he'd had time to turn himself round, come fast upon him, and he was nabbed. He was brought here, as I said, for last Wednesday. I think there's about a half a dozen detainers who gain him downstairs now. I have been, added Oaky, in the profession these fifteen years, and I've never met with such vindictiveness afore. Poor creatures! explained the equal-dealer's wife once and more, again resorting to the same excellent prescription for nipping a sigh in the bud. The—when they've seen as much trouble as I and my old man here have, they'll be as comfortable under it as we are. The young lady's a pretty creature, said Walker, unless she's a little too delicate for my taste, there ain't enough of her. And, as to the young cove, he may be very respectable, and what's not by he's too down in the mouth for me again, he ain't game. Game? exclaimed Oaky, who had been altering the position of a green-handled knife and fork at least a dozen times in order that he might remain in the room under the pretext of having something to do. These are game enough, and there's anything to be fierce about. But who could be game, as you call it, Mr. Walker, with a pale young creature like that hanging about him? It's enough to drive any man's eye into his boots to see him together. Ain't no mistake at all about it. I never shall forget a first coming here. He wrote to her on the Thursday to come. I know he did, because I took a letter. None common fidgety, he was all day to be sure. And in the evening he goes down into the office, and he says to Jacob, says he, Sir, can I have the loan of a private room for a few minutes this evening, without incurring any additional expense, just to see my wife in? Says he. Jacob's looked as much as to say strike me bountiful, if he ain't one of the modest sort. But as the gentleman who had been in the back parlor had just gone out, and he had paid for it for that day, he says, very grave. Sir, says he, it's again our rules to let private rooms to our lodges on gratis terms. But, says he, for a gentleman, I don't mind breaking them for once. So then he turns round to me, and he says, I do. Put two more candles in the back parlor, and charge him to this gentleman's account, which I did. Well, I am by, a acne coach comes up the door, and there was sure enough was a young lady wrapped up in an opera cloak, as it might be, and all alone. But I opened the gate that night, so I went up when the coach come, and he was awaiting at the parlor door. And wasn't he a trembling nighter? The poor creature see him, and good-ardly walked to meet her. Oh, Harry, she says, it should have come to this and all for my sake, says she, putting her hand upon his shoulder. So he puts his arm round her pretty little waist, and leading her gently away into the room, so that he might be able to shut the door, he says, so kind and soft like, why, Kate, says he. Here's the gentleman you want, said Ike. Abruptly, breaking off his story, and introducing Mr. Gabriel Parsons to the crestfallen Watkins' total, who at that moment entered the room, Watkins advanced with a wooden expression of passive endurance, and accepted the hand which Mr. Gabriel Parsons held out. I want to speak to you, said Gabriel, with a look, strongly expressive of his dislike of the company. This way, replied the imprisoned one, leading the way to the front drawing-room, where rich debtors did the luxurious at the rate of a couple of guineas a day. Well, here I am, said Mr. Watkins, as he sat down on the sofa, and placing the palms of his hands on his knees, anxiously glanced at his friend's countenance. And here you're likely to be, said Gabriel coolly, as he rattled the money in his unmentionable pockets, and looked out of the window. What's the amount, what it costs? Inquired Parsons after an awkward pause. Have you any money? Nine and sixpence apene. Mr. Gabriel Parsons walked up and down the room for a few seconds, before he could make up his mind to disclose the plan he had formed. He was accustomed to drive hard bargains, but he was always most anxious to conceal his avarice. At length he stopped short, and said, Tottle, you owe me fifty pounds. I do? And from all I see I infer that you are likely to owe it to me. I—I fear I am. Though you have every disposition to pay me if you could. Well, certainly. Then, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, listen, is my proposition. You know my way of old, accept it? Yes or no. I will or I won't. I'll pay the debt and costs, and I'll lend you ten pounds more, which added to your annuity will enable you to carry on the war well. If you'll give me a note of an to pay me one hundred and fifty pounds within six months after you're married to Miss Lillerton. My dear, stop a minute on one condition, and that is that you propose to Miss Lillerton at once. At once? My dear Parsons, consider— It's for you to consider not me. She knows you well from reputation, though she did not know you personally till lately. Notwithstanding all her maiden modesty, I think she'd be devilish glad to get married out of hand with as little delay as possible. My wife has sounded her on the subject, and she has confessed. What or what? Eagerly interrupted the enamored Watkins. Why, replied Parsons, to say exactly what she has confessed would be rather difficult, because she's only spoken in hints and so forth, but my wife, who is no bad judge in these cases, declared to me that what she had confessed was as good as to say that she was not insensible of your merits. In fact, there no other man should ever. Mr. Watkins' total rose hastily from his seat and rang the bell. What's that for, inquired Parsons? I want to send the man for the bill-stamp, replied Mr. Watkins' total. Then you made up your mind. I have, and they shook hands most cordially. The note of hand was given, the debt and costs were paid. Ike was satisfied for his trouble, and the two friends soon found themselves on that side of Mr. Solomon Jacob's establishment, on which most of his visitors were very happy, and when they found themselves once again to wit. The outside. Now, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, as they drove to Norwood together, you shall have an opportunity to make the disclosure tonight, and mind you, speak our total. I will, I will, replied Watkins valorously. How I should like to see you two together! ejaculated Mr. Gabriel Parsons. What fun! And he laughed so long and so loudly that he disconcerted Mr. Watkins' total, and frightened the horse. There's Fanny and your intended walkin' about on the lawn, said Gabriel, as they approached the house. Mind your eyes, total! Never fear, replied Watkins resolutely, as he made his way to the spot where the ladies were walking. Oh, here's Mr. Total, my dear, said Mrs. Parsons addressing Mr. Lillerton. The lady turned quickly round and acknowledged his courteous salute, with the same sort of confusion that Watkins had noticed on their first interview, but with something like a slight expression of disappointment or carelessness. Did you see how glad she was to see you? whispered Parsons to his friend. Why, I really thought she looked as if she would rather have seen somebody else, replied Total. Nonsense, whispered Parsons again. It's always the same with the women young or old. They never show how delighted they are to see those whose presence makes their hearts beat. It's the way with all sex, and no man should have lived to your time without knowing it. Fanny confessed it to me, when we were first married over and over again. See what it is to have a wife? Well, certainly, whispered Total, whose courage was vanishing fast. Well now, you better begin to pave the way, said Parsons, who, having invested some money in the speculation, assumed the office of director. Yes, yes, I will presently, replied Total, greatly flurried. Say something to a man, urged Parsons again, and confound it. Pay her a compliment, can't you? No, not till after dinner, replied the bashful Total, anxious to postpone the evil moment. Well, gentlemen, said Mrs. Parsons, you are really very polite. You stay away the whole morning after promising to take us out, and when you do come home, you stand whispering together and take no notice of us. We were talking of the business, my dear, which detained us this morning, replied Parsons, looking significantly at Total. Oh, dear me, how very quickly the morning has gone, said Miss Lillerton, referring to the gold watch which was wound up on state occasions, whether it required it or not. Oh, I think it has passed very slowly, mildly suggested Total. That's right, bravo, whispered Parsons. Indeed, said Miss Lillerton with an air of majestic surprise, I can only impute it to my unavoidable absence from your society, madame, said Watkins, and that of Mrs. Parsons. During this short dialogue, the ladies have been leading the way to the house. What adduce did you stick fanny into that last compliment for, inquired Parsons, as they followed together? It quite spoiled the effect. Oh, it really would have been too broad without it, replied Watkins, Total, much too broad. He's mad, Parsons whispered his wife as they entered the drawing-room, mad from modesty. Dear me, ejaculated the lady, I never heard such a thing. You'll find we have quite a family dinner, Mr. Total, said Mrs. Parsons, when they sat down to table. Miss Lillerton is one of us, and we, of course, we make no stranger of you. Mr. Watkins, Total, expressed a hope that the Parsons' family never would make a stranger of him, and wished internally that his bashfulness would allow him to feel a little less like a stranger himself. Tick off the covers, Martha, said Mrs. Parsons, directing the shifting of the scenery with great anxiety. The order was obeyed, and a pair of boiled fowls, with tongue, and etc., were displayed at the top, and a filet of veal at the bottom. On one side of the table, two green-sourced cherines, with labels of the same, were setting to each other in a green dish, and on the other was a curried rabbit, in a brown suit, turned up with lemon. Miss Lillerton, my dear, said Mrs. Parsons, shall I assist you? Well, thank you. No, I think I'll trouble Mr. Total. Watkins started, trembled, helped the rabbit, and broke a tumbler. The countenance of the lady of the house, which had been all smiles previously, underwent an awful change. I was extremely sorry. Stammered Watkins, assisting himself to curry and parsley, and barter in the extremity of his confusion, and not the least consequence, replied Mrs. Parsons, in a tone which implied that it was of the greatest consequence possible, directing aside the researchers of the boy, who was groping under the table for the bits of broken glass. I presume, said Miss Lillerton, that Mr. Total is aware of the interest, which bachelors usually pay in such cases. A dozen glasses for one is the lowest penalty. Mr. Gabriel Parsons gave his friend an abmonitory tread on the toe. Here was a clear hint that the sooner he ceased to be a bachelor, and emancipated himself from such penalties the better. Mr. Watkins' Total viewed the observation in the same light, and challenged Mrs. Parsons to take wine with a degree of presence of mind, which, under all the circumstances, was really extraordinary. Miss Lillerton, said Gabriel, may I have the pleasure? I shall be most happy. Total, will you assist Miss Lillerton and pass the decanter? Thank you, the usual pantomime mix ceremony of nodding and sipping gone through. Total, were you ever in Suffolk? inquired the master of the house, who was burning to tell one of his seven stock stories. No, responded Watkins, adding by way of a saving clause, but I had been in Devonshire. Ah, replied Gabriel, it was in Suffolk that a rather singular circumstance happened to me many years ago. Did you ever happen to hear me mention it? Mr. Watkins' Total had happened to hear his friend mention it some four hundred times. Of course, he expressed great curiosity, and evinced the utmost impatience to hear the story again. Mr. Gabriel Parsons' forthwith attempted to proceed, in spite of the interruptions to which, as our readers must frequently have observed, the master of the house is often exposed in such cases, we will attempt to give them an idea of our meaning. When I was in Suffolk, said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, take off the fouls first, Martha, said Mrs. Parsons, I beg your pardon, my dear. When I was in Suffolk, resumed Mr. Parsons with an impatient glance at his wife, who pretended not to observe it, which is now years ago, business led me to the town of Berrison-Edmonds. I had to stop at the principal place in my way, and therefore for the sake of convenience, I travelled in a jig. I left Sudbury one dark night. It was wintertime, about nine o'clock, the rain poured in torrents, the wind howled among the trees that skirted the roadside, and I was obliged to proceed at a foot pace, for I could hardly see my hand before me. It was so dark. John interrupted Mrs. Parsons in a low hollow voice. Don't spill that gravy. Fanny, said Parsons impatiently, I wish you defer these domestic reproofs to some more suitable time. Really, my dear, these constant interruptions are very annoying. My dear, I didn't interrupt you, said Mrs. Parsons, but my dear, you did interrupt me, remonstrated Mr. Parsons. How very absurd you are, my love. I must give directions to the servants. I'm quite sure that if I sat here and allowed John to spill the gravy all over the new carpet, you'd be the first to find fault when you saw the stain to-morrow morning. Well, continued Gabriel with a resigned air, as if he knew there was no getting over the point about the carpet. I was just saying. It was so dark that I could hardly see my hand before me. The road was very lonely, and I assure you, total, this was a device to arrest the wandering attention of that individual, which was distracted by a confidential communication between Mrs. Parsons and Martha, accompanied by the delivery of a large bunch of keys. I assure you, total, I became somehow impressed with a sense of the loneliness of my situation. Pie to your master, interrupted Mrs. Parsons again, directing the servant. Now pray, my dear, remonstrated Parsons once more, very pettishly. Mrs. P. turned up her hands and eyebrows, and appealed in dumb show to Miss Lillerton. As I turned a corner of the road, resumed Gabriel. The horse stopped short, and I reared tremendously. I pulled up, jumped out, ran to his head, and found a man lying on his back in the middle of the road, with his eyes fixed on the sky. I thought he was dead, but no, he was alive, and there appeared to be nothing the matter with him. He jumped up and putting his hand on his chest, fixed upon me the most earnest gaze you can imagine, and exclaimed, "'Putting here?' said Mrs. Parsons. "'Oh, it's no yote,' exclaimed the host, now rendered desperate. Here, total, a glass of wine. It's useless to attempt relating anything when Mrs. Parsons is present.' This attack was received in the usual way. Mrs. Parsons talked to Miss Lillerton, and at her behalf, expatiated on the impatience of men generally, hinted that her husband was peculiarly vicious in this respect, and wound up by insinuating that she must be one of the best tempers that ever existed, or she never could put up with it. Really, what she had to endure sometimes was more than anyone who saw her in everyday life could by possibility suppose. The story was now a painful subject, and therefore Mr. Parsons declined to enter into any details, and contented himself by stating that the man was a maniac who had escaped from a neighbouring madhouse. The cloth was removed, and ladies soon afterwards retired, and Miss Lillerton played the piano in the drawing-room overhead. Very loudly for the edification of the visitor, Mr. Watkins' total and Mr. Gabriel Parsons sat chatting comfortably enough, until the conclusion of the second bottle, when the latter, in proposing an adjournment to the drawing-room, informed Watkins that he had concerted a plan with his wife for leaving him, and Miss Lillerton alone, soon after tea. I say, said Tottle, as they went upstairs, don't you think it would be better if we were to put it off till to-morrow? Don't you think it would be much better if I had left you in that wretched hole I found you in this morning? Reported Parsons bluntly. Well, well, I only made a suggestion, said poor Watkins' total with a deep sigh. Tea was soon concluded, and Miss Lillerton drawing a small work table on one side of the fire, and placing a little wooden frame upon it—something like a miniature clay mill without the horse—was soon busily engaged in making a watchguard with brown silk. God bless me! exclaimed Parsons, starting up with a well-famed surprise. I've forgotten those confounded letters. Tottle, I know you'll excuse me. If Tottle had been a free agent, he would have allowed no one to leave the room on any pretense except himself. As it was, however, he was obliged to look cheerful when Parsons quitted the apartment. He had scarcely left when Martha put her head into the room with, please, ma'am, you're wanted. Mrs. Parsons left the room, shut the door carefully after her, and Mr. Watkins' total was left alone with Miss Lillerton. For the first five minutes there was a dead silence. Mr. Watkins' total was thinking how he should begin, and Miss Lillerton appeared to be thinking of nothing. The fire was burning low. Mr. Watkins' total stirred it, and put some coals on. Coughed Miss Lillerton, Mr. Watkins' total thought the fair creature had spoken. I beg your pardon, said he. Eh? Eh? I thought you spoke. No. Oh! There are some books on the sofa. Mr. Tottle, if you'd like to look at them, said Miss Lillerton after the lapse of another five minutes. No, thank you. Returned Watkins, and then he added with a courage which was perfectly astonishing even to himself. Ma'am, that is, Miss Lillerton, I wish to speak to you. To me, said Miss Lillerton, letting the silk drop from her hands, and sliding her chair back a few paces, speak to me? To you, ma'am. And on the subject of the state of your affections. The lady hastily rose and would have left the room, but Mr. Watkins' total gently detained her by the hand, and, holding it as far from him as the joint length of their arms would permit, he thus proceeded, Pray, do not misunderstand me, or suppose that I am led to address you after so short an acquaintance by any feeling of my own merits. For merits I have none which could give me acclaim to your hand. I hope you will acquit me of any presumption, when I explain that I have been acquainted through Mrs. Parsons with the state, that is, that Mrs. Parsons has told me at least not Mrs. Parsons, but here Watkins began to wonder, but Miss Lillerton relieved him. Am I to understand, Mr. Total, that Mrs. Parsons has acquainted you with my feeling, my affection? I mean my respect for an individual of the opposite sex? She has. Then what? inquired Miss Lillerton, averting her face with a girlish air. What could induce you to seek such an interview as this? What can your object be? How can I promote your happiness, Mr. Total? This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by David Lazarus. Sketches by Boz. By Charles Dickens. Illustrated by George Crookshank. Chapter 10 Part 3 of Tales Here was the time for a flourish. By allowing me, replied Watkins, falling bump on his knees and breaking two brace buttons and a waistcoat string in the act, by allowing me to be your slave, your servant, in short by unreservedly making me the confident of your heart's feelings, may I say for the promotion of your own happiness, may I say in order that you may become the wife of a kind and affectionate husband? Disinterested creature! exclaimed Ms. Lillerton, hiding her face in a white pocket handkerchief with an eyelet hole border. Mr. Watkins Total thought that if the lady knew all, she might possibly alter her opinion on this last point. He raised the tip of her middle finger ceremoniously to his lips and got off his knees as gracefully as he could. My information was correct, he tremulously inquired when he was once more on his feet. It was. Watkins elevated his hands and looked up to the ornament in the center of the ceiling, which had been made for a lamp by way of expressing his rapture. Our situation, Mr. Total, resumed the lady glancing at him through one of the eyelet holes, is a most peculiar and delicate one. It is, said Mr. Total. Our acquaintance has been of so short duration, said Ms. Lillerton. Only a weaker scented Watkins Total. Oh, more than that! exclaimed the lady in a tone of surprise. Indeed, said Total, more than a month, more than two months, said Ms. Lillerton. Rather odd this, thought Watkins. Oh, he said recollecting Parson's assurance that she had known him from report. I understand, but, my dear Madam Prey, consider, the longer this acquaintance has existed, the less reason is I there for delay now. Why not at once fix her period for gratifying the hopes of your devoted admirer? It has been represented to me again and again that this is the course I ought to pursue, replied Ms. Lillerton. But pardon my feelings of delicacy, Mr. Total. Prey, excuse this embarrassment. I have peculiar ideas on such subjects, and I am quite sure that I never could summon up fortitude enough to name the day to my future husband. Then allow me to name it, said Total, eagerly. I should like to fix it myself, replied Ms. Lillerton bashfully, but I cannot do so without at once resorting to a third party. A third party? thought Watkins. Total, the juice is there to be, I wonder. Mr. Total, continued Ms. Lillerton, you have made me a most disinterested and kind offer. That offer, I accept. Will you at once be the bearer of a note from me to Mr. Timpson? Mr. Timpson, said Watkins. After what has passed between us, responded Ms. Lillerton, still averting her head, you must understand whom I mean, Mr. Timpson, the clergyman. Mr. Timpson, the clergyman, ejaculated Watkins' total in a state of inexpressible beatitude and positive wonder at his own success. Angel, certainly this moment. I'll prepare it immediately, said Ms. Lillerton, making for the door. The events of this day have flurried me so much, Mr. Total, that I shall not leave my room again this evening. I will send you the note by the servant. Stay, stay, cried Watkins. Total, still keeping a most respectful distance from the lady. When shall we meet again? Oh, Mr. Total, replied Ms. Lillerton coquettishly, when we are married. I can never see you too often. No, thank you too much. And she left the room. Mr. Watkins total flung himself into an armchair, and indulged in the most delicious reveries of future bliss, in which the idea of five hundred pounds per atom, with an uncontrolled power of disposing of it by her last will and testament, was somehow or other the foremost. He had gone through the interview so well, and it had terminated so admirably, that he almost began to wish he had expressly stipulated for the settlement of the annual five hundred on himself. May I come in? said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, peeping in at the door. You may, replied Watkins. Well, have you done it? anxiously inquired Gabriel. Have I done it? said Watkins. Total, hush! I'm going to the clergyman. No, said Parsons. How well you've managed it! Where does Timson live? inquired Watkins. At his uncle's, replied Gabriel, just round the lane. He's waiting for a living, and he's been assisting his uncle here for the past two or three months. But how well you have done it! I didn't think you could have carried it off so. Mr. Watkins' total was proceeding to demonstrate that the Richard Sonian principle was the best on which love could possibly be made, when he was interrupted by the entrance of Martha, with a little pink note folded like a fancy cocked hat. Miss Lillerton's compliments, said Martha, as she delivered it into Total's hand and vanished. Do you observe the delicacy, said Total, appealing to Mr. Gabriel Parsons? Compliments, not love, by the servant, eh? Mr. Gabriel Parsons didn't exactly know what reply to make, so he poked the forefinger of his right hand between the third and fourth rib of Mr. Watkins' total. Come, said Watkins, when the explosion of mirth consequent on this practical jest had subsided, we'll be off at once. Let's lose no time. Capital! echoed Gabriel Parsons, and in five minutes they were at the garden gate of the villa, tenanted by the uncle of Mr. Timson. Is Mr. Charles Timson at home? inquired Mr. Watkins' total of Mr. Charles Timson's uncle's man. Mr. Charles is at home, replied the man, stammering, but he desired me to say he couldn't be interrupted, sir, by any of the parishioners. I'm not a parishioner, replied Watkins. Is Mr. Charles writing a sermon, Tom? inquired Parsons, thrusting him so forward. No, Mr. Parsons, sir. He's not exactly writing a sermon, but he is practicing the violin-jello in his own bedroom, and gave strict orders not to be disturbed. Well, say I'm here, replied Gabriel, leading the way across the garden. Mr. Parsons and Mr. Total on private and particular business. They were shown into the parlor, and the servant departed to deliver his message. The distant groaning of the violin-jello ceased. Footsteps were heard on the stairs, and Mr. Timson presented himself, and shook hands with Parsons with the utmost cordiality. How do you do, sir? said Watkins' total with great solemnity. Well, how do you do, sir? replied Timson, with as much coldness as if it were a matter of perfect indifference to him how he did, as it very likely was. I beg to deliver this note to you, said Watkins' total producing the cocked hat. From Miss Lillerton, said Timson, suddenly changing colour, pray, sit down. Mr. Watkins' total sat down, and while Timson perused the note, fixed his eyes on an oyster-sourced coloured portrait of the archbishop of Canterbury, which hung over the fireplace. Mr. Timson rose from his seat when he had concluded the note, and looked dubiously at Parsons. May I ask, he inquired, appealing to Watkins' total, whether our friend here is acquainted with the object of your visit. Our friend is my confidence, replied Watkins, with considerable importance. Then, sir, said Timson, seizing both total's hands, allow me in his presence to thank you most unfainately and cordially for the noble party who have acted in this affair. He thinks I recommended him, thought total. Confound these fellows, they never think of anything but their fees. I deeply regret having misunderstood your intentions, my dear sir, continued Timson. Disinterested and manly indeed, there are very few men who would have acted as you have done. Mr. Watkins' total could not help thinking that this last remark was anything but complementary. He therefore inquired rather hastily, when is it to be? On Thursday, replied Timson, on Thursday morning at half-past eight. Uncommonly early, observed Watkins' total with an air of triumph and self-denial, I should hardly be able to get down here by that hour. This was intended for a joke. Never mind, my dear fellow, replied Timson, all suavity, shaking hands with total again most heartily, so long as we see you to breakfast, you know. Eh? said Parsons, with one of the most extraordinary expressions of countenance that ever appeared in a human face. What? ejaculated Watkins' total at the same moment. I say that, so long as we see you to breakfast, replied Timson, we will excuse your being absent from the ceremony, though, of course, your presence at it would give us the utmost pleasure. As to Watkins' total staggered against the wall, and fixed his eye on Timson with appalling perseverance. Timson, said Parsons hurriedly, brushing his hand with his left arm, when you say us, whom do you mean? Mr. Timson looked foolishly in his turn, when he replied, Why, Mrs. Timson, that will be this day weaker, Miss Lilliton, that is. Now, don't stare at that idiot in the corner, angrily exclaimed Parsons, as the extraordinary convulsions of Watkins' total's countenance excited the wandering gaze of Timson, but have the goodness to tell me, in three words, the contents of that note. This note, replied Timson, is from Miss Lilliton, to whom I have been for the last five weeks regularly engaged. Her singular scruples and strange feeling on some points have hitherto prevented me bringing the engagement to that termination, which I so anxiously desire. She informs me here that she sounded Mrs. Parsons with the view of making her her confidante, and go between, that Mrs. Parsons informed this elderly gentleman, Mr. Total, of the circumstance, and that he, in the most kind and delicate terms, offered to assist us in any way, and even undertook to convey this note, which contains the promise I have long sought in vain, an act of kindness for which I can never be sufficiently grateful. Good night, Timson, said Parsons, hurrying off and carrying the bill-wilder Total with him. It won't you stay and have something? said Timson. No, thank ye, replied Parsons, I had quite enough, and the way he went, followed my Watkins' total in a state of stupid faction. Mr. Gabriel Parsons whistled until they had walked some quarter of a mile past his own gate, then he suddenly stopped and said, You are a clever fellow, Total, ain't you? I don't know, said the unfortunate Watkins. I suppose you will say this is Fanny's fault, won't you? inquired Gabriel. I don't know anything about it, replied the bewildered Total. Well, said Parsons, turning on his heel to go home, the next time you make an offer, you would better speak plainly, and don't throw a chance away, and the next time you're locked up in the sponging house, just wait there till I come and take you out. There's a good fella. How or at what hour, Mr. Watkins' Total returned to Cecil Street is unknown. His boots were seen outside his bedroom door next morning, but we have the authority of his landlady for stating that he neither emerged therefrom, nor accepted substance for four and twenty hours. Had the expiration of that period, and when a council of war was being held in the kitchen on the propriety of summoning the parochial beetle to break his door open, he rang his bell and demanded a cup of milk and water. The next morning he went through the formalities of eating and drinking as usual, but a week afterwards he was seized with a relapse, while perusing the list of marriages and a morning paper from which he never perfectly recovered. A few weeks after the last named occurrence, the body of a gentleman unknown was found in the regents' canal. In the trouser pockets were four shillings and threppin' sapen'y, a matrimonial advertisement from a lady, which appeared to have been cut out of a Sunday paper, a toothpick, and a card case, which it is confidently believed would have led to the identification of the unfortunate gentleman, but for the circumstances of there being none but blank cards in it. Mr. Watkins' total absented himself from his lodging shortly before. A bill which had not been taken up was presented next morning, and a bill which has not been taken down was soon afterwards affixed in his parlor window. End of Chapter 10, Part 3 of Tales from Sketches by Boz by Charles Dickens. Recording by David Lazarus