 6 Comprises, among other important matters, pecsniphian and architectural, and exact relation of the progress made by Mr. Pinch in the confidence and friendship of the new pupil. It was morning, and the beautiful aurora of whom so much hath been written, said, and sung, did with her rosy fingers nip and tweak Miss Pecsniph's nose. It was the frolicsome custom of the goddess in her intercourse with the fair cherry, so to do. Or in more prosaic phrase, the tip of that feature in the sweet girl's countenance was always very red at breakfast time. For the most part, indeed, it wore, at that season of the day, a scraped and frosty look, as if it had been rasped, while a similar phenomenon developed itself in her humor, which was then observed to be of a sharpened acid quality, as though an extra lemon, figuratively speaking, had been squeezed into the nectar of her disposition, and had rather damaged its flavor. This additional pungency on the part of the fair young creature led, on ordinary occasions, to such slight consequences as the copious dilution of Mr. Pinch's tea, or to his coming off uncommonly short in respect of butter, or to other the like results. But on the morning after the installation banquet, she suffered him to wander to and fro among the eatables and drinkables, a perfectly free and unchecked man. So utterly to Mr. Pinch's wonder and confusion, that like the wretched captive who recovered his liberty in his old age, he could make but little use of his enlargement, and fell into a strange kind of flutter for want of some kind hand to scrape his bread and cut him off in the article of sugar with a lump, and pay him those other little attentions to which he was accustomed. There was something almost awful, too, about the self-possession of the new pupil, who troubled Mr. Peck's sniff for the loaf, and helped himself to a rassure of that gentleman's own particular and private bacon, with all the coolness in life. He even seemed to think that he was doing quite a regular thing, and to expect that Mr. Pinch would follow his example, since he took occasion to observe of that young man that he didn't get on. A speech of so tremendous a character that Tom cast down his eyes involuntarily, it felt as if he himself had committed some horrible deed and heinous breach of Mr. Peck's sniff's confidence. Indeed, the agony of having such an indiscreet remark addressed to him before the assembled family was breakfast enough in itself, and would without any other matter of reflection have settled Mr. Pinch's business and quenched his appetite for one meal, though he had been never so hungry. The young ladies, however, and Mr. Peck's sniff likewise, remained in the very best of spirits in spite of these severe trials, though with something of a mysterious understanding among themselves. When the meal was nearly over, Mr. Peck's sniff smilingly explained the cause of their common satisfaction. "'It is not often,' he said, Martin, that my daughters and I desert our quiet home to pursue the giddy round of pleasures that revolves abroad. But we think of doing so today.' "'Indeed, sir,' cried the new pupil. "'Yes,' said Mr. Peck's sniff, tapping his left hand with a letter which he held in his right. "'I have a summons here to repair to London on professional business, my dear Martin, strictly on professional business, and I promised my girls long ago that whenever that happened again they should accompany me. We shall go forth tonight by the heavy coach like the dove of old, my dear Martin, and it will be a week before we again deposit our olive branches in the passage. When I say olive branches, observed Mr. Peck's sniff in explanation, I mean our unpretending luggage. "'I hope the young ladies will enjoy their trip,' said Martin. "'Oh, that I'm sure we shall,' cried Mercy, clapping her hands. "'Good gracious, Cherry, my darling, the idea of London.' "'Our child,' said Mr. Peck's sniff, gazing on her in a dreamy way. And yet there is a melancholy sweetness in these youthful hopes. It is pleasant to know that they never can be realized. I remember thinking once myself, in the days of my childhood, that pickled onions grew on trees, and that every elephant was born with an impregnable castle on his back. I have not found the fact to be so far from it, and yet those visions have comforted me under circumstances of trial. Even when I have had the anguish of discovering that I have nourished in my breast an ostrich and not a human pupil, even in that hour of agony they have soothed me. At this dread illusion to John Westlock, Mr. Pinch precipitately choked in his tea, for he had that very morning received a letter from him, as Mr. Peck's sniff very well knew. "'You will take care, my dear Martin,' said Mr. Peck's sniff, resuming his former cheerfulness, that the house does not run away in our absence. We leave you in charge of everything. There is no mystery, all is free and open, unlike the young man in the eastern tail, who is described as a one-eyed almanac. If I am not mistaken, Mr. Pinch, a one-eyed calendar, I think, sir, faltered Tom. They are pretty nearly the same thing, I believe, said Mr. Peck's sniff, smiling compassionately, or they used to be in my time. Unlike that young man, my dear Martin, you are forbidden to enter no corner of this house, but are requested to make yourself perfectly at home in every part of it. You will be jovial, my dear Martin, and will kill the fatted calf, if you please." There was not the least objection, doubtless, to the young man slaughtering and appropriating to his own use any calf, fat or lean, that he might happen to find upon the premises. But as no such animal chanced at that time to be grazing on Mr. Peck's sniff's estate, this request must be considered rather as a polite compliment than a substantial hospitality. It was the finishing ornament of the conversation for when he had delivered it Mr. Peck's sniff rose and led the way to that hotbed of architectural genius the two-pair front. Let me see, he said, searching among the papers, how you can best employ yourself, Martin, while I am absent. Suppose you were to give me your idea of a monument to a Lord Mayor of London, or a tomb for a sheriff, or your notion of a cowhouse to be erected in a nobleman's park. Do you know now, said Mr. Peck's sniff, folding his hands and looking at his young relation with an air of pensive interest, that I should very much like to see your notion of a cowhouse? But Martin, by no means, appeared to relish this suggestion. A pomp, said Mr. Peck's sniff, is very chaste practice. I have found that a lamppost is calculated to refine the mind and give it a classical tendency. An ornamental turnpike has a remarkable effect upon the imagination. What do you say to beginning with an ornamental turnpike? Whatever Mr. Peck's sniff pleased, said Martin, doubly. Stay, said that gentleman. Come, as you're ambitious and are a very neat draftsman, you shall try your hand on these proposals for a grammar school. Regulating your plan, of course, by the printed particulars. Upon my word now, said Mr. Peck's sniff merrily, I shall be very curious to see what you make of the grammar school. Who knows, but a young man of your taste might hit upon something impracticable and unlikely in itself, but which I could put into shape. For it really is, my dear Martin. It really is in the finishing touches alone that great experience and long study in these matters tell. Ha, ha, ha, now it really will be, continued Mr. Peck's sniff, clapping his young friend on the back in his droll humor, an amusement to me to see what you make of the grammar school. Martin readily undertook this task, and Mr. Peck's sniff forthwith proceeded to entrust him with the materials necessary for its execution. Dwelling, meanwhile, on the magical effect of a few finishing touches from the hand of a master, which indeed, as some people said, and these were the old enemies again, was unquestionably very surprising and almost miraculous, as there were cases on record in which the masterly introduction of an additional back window or a kitchen door or half a dozen steps or even a water spout had made the design of a pupil Mr. Peck's sniff's own work and had brought substantial rewards into that gentleman's pocket. But such is the magic of genius which changes all it handles into gold. When your mind requires to be refreshed by change of occupation, said Mr. Peck's sniff, Thomas Pinch will instruct you in the art of surveying the back garden or in ascertaining the dead level of the road between this house and the finger post or in any other practical and pleasing pursuit. There are a cartload of loose bricks and a score or two of old flower pots in the backyard. If you could pile them up, my dear Martin, into any form which would remind me on my return, say of St. Peter's at Rome or the mosque of St. Sophia at Constantinople, it would be at once improving to you and agreeable to my feelings. And now, said Mr. Peck's sniff, in conclusion, to drop for the present our professional relations and advert to private matters, I shall be glad to talk with you in my own room while I pack up my portmanteau. Martin attended him, and they remained in secret conference together for an hour or more, leaving Tom Pinch alone. When the young man returned, he was very taciturn and dull, in which state he remained all day, so that Tom, after trying him once or twice with a different conversation, felt a delicacy in obtruding himself upon his thoughts and said no more. He would not have had leisure to say much had his new friend been ever so loquacious, for first of all Mr. Peck's sniff called him down to stand upon the top of his portmanteau and represent agent statues there until such time as it would consent to be locked. And then Miss Charity called him to come and cord her trunk, and then Miss Mercy sent for him to come and mend her box, and then he wrote the fullest possible cards for all the luggage, and then he volunteered to carry it all downstairs, and after that to see it safely carried on a couple of barrows to the old finger post at the end of the lane, and then to mind it till the coach came up. In short, his day's work would have been a pretty heavy one for a porter, but his thorough good will made nothing of it, and as he sat upon the luggage at last, waiting for the Peck's sniffs, escorted by the new pupil to come down the lane, his heart was light with the hope of having pleased his benefactor. I was almost afraid, said Tom, taking a letter from his pocket and wiping his face, for he was hot with bustling about, though it was a cold day, that I shouldn't have had time to write it, and that would have been a thousand pitties, postage from such a distance being a serious consideration when one's not rich. She will be glad to see my hand, poor girl, and to hear that Peck's sniff is as kind as ever. I would have asked John Westlock to call and see her, and tell her all about me by word of mouth, but I was afraid he might speak against Peck's sniff to her and make her uneasy. Besides, there are particular people where she is, and it might have rendered her situation uncomfortable if she had had a visit from a young man like John, poor Ruth. Tom Pinch seemed a little disposed to be melancholy for half a minute or so, but he found comfort very soon, and pursued his ruminations thus. I'm a nice man, I don't think, as John used to say. John was a kind, merry-hearted fellow. I wish he had liked Peck's sniff better. To be feeling low on account of the distance between us when I ought to be thinking instead of my extraordinary good luck in having ever got here, I must have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I am sure, to have ever come across Peck's sniff. And here have I fallen again into my usual good luck with the new pupil, such an affable, generous, free fellow as he is I never saw, why we were companions directly, and he a relation of Peck's nifts, too, and a clever, dashing youth who might cut his way through the world as if it were a cheese. It comes, while the words are on my lips, said Tom, walking down the lane as if the lane belonged to him. In truth the new pupil, not at all disconcerted by the honor of having Miss Mercy Peck's sniff on his arm, or by the affectionate adduce of that young lady, approached as Mr. Pinch spoke, followed by Miss Charity and Mr. Peck's sniff. As the coach appeared at the same moment, Tom lost no time in untreating the gentleman last mentioned to undertake the delivery of his letter. Oh, said Mr. Peck's sniff, glancing at the superscription, for your sister Thomas. Yes, oh yes, it shall be delivered, Mr. Pinch. Make your mind easy upon that score. She shall certainly have it, Mr. Pinch. He made the promise with so much condescension and patronage that Tom felt he had asked a great deal. This had not occurred to his mind before and thanked him earnestly. The Miss Peck's nifts, according to a custom they had, were amused beyond description at the mention of Mr. Pinch's sister. Oh, the fright, the bare idea of a Miss Pinch, good heavens. Tom was greatly pleased to see them so merry, for he took it as a token of their favor and good-humored regard. Therefore he laughed, too, and rubbed his hands and wished them a pleasant journey and safe return, and was quite brisk. Even when the coach had rolled away with the olive branches in the boot and the family of doves inside, he stood waving his hand and bowing, so much gratified by the unusually courteous demeanor of the young ladies that he was quite regardless for the moment of Martin Chuzzlewit, who stood leaning thoughtfully against the finger-post, and who, after disposing of his fair charge, had hardly lifted his eyes from the ground. The perfect silence which ensued upon the bustle and departure of the coach, together with the sharp air of the wintry afternoon, roused them both at the same time. They churned as by mutual consent, and moved off arm in arm. How melancholy you are, said Tom, what is the matter? Nothing worth speaking of, said Martin, very little more than was the matter yesterday, and much more, I hope, than will be the matter to-morrow. I'm out of spirits, Pinch. Well, cried Tom, now do you know I am in capital spirits today, and scarcely ever felt more disposed to be good company? It was a very kind thing in your predecessor, John, to write to me, was it not? Why, yes, said Martin carelessly. I should have thought he would have had enough to do to enjoy himself without thinking of you, Pinch. Just what I felt, to be so very likely, Tom rejoined. But no, he keeps his word, and says, my dear Pinch, I often think of you, and all sorts of kind and considerate things of that description. He must be a devilish good-natured fellow, said Martin, somewhat peevishly, because he can't mean that, you know. I don't suppose he can, eh? said Tom, looking wistfully in his companion's face. He says so to please me, you think. Why, is it likely, rejoined Martin, with greater earnestness, that a young man newly escaped from this kennel of a place, and fresh to all the delights of being his own master in London, may have much leisure or inclination to think favorably of anything or anybody he is left behind him here? I put it to you, Pinch, is it natural? After a short reflection Mr. Pinch replied, in a more subdued tone, that to be sure it was unreasonable to expect any such thing, and that he had no doubt Martin knew best. Of course I know best, Martin observed. Yes, I feel that, said Mr. Pinch mildly, I said so. And when he had made this rejoinder they fell into a blank silence again, which lasted until they reached home, by which time it was dark. Now Miss Charity Pexniff, in consideration of the inconvenience of carrying them with her in the coach, and the impossibility of preserving them by artificial means until the family's return, had set forth, in a couple of plates, the fragments of yesterday's feast, in virtue of which liberal arrangement they had the happiness to find awaiting them in the parlor, two chaotic heaps of the remains of last night's pleasure, consisting of certain filmy bits of oranges, some mummied sandwiches, various disrupted masses of the geological cake, and several entire captain's biscuits. That choice liquor in which to steep these dainties might not be wanting, the remains of the two bottles of current wine had been poured together and corked with a curl paper, so that every material was at hand for making quite a heavy night of it. Martin Chuzzlewick beheld these roistering preparations with infinite contempt, and, stirring the fire into a blaze to the great destruction of Mr. Pexniff's coals, sat mootily down before it in the most comfortable chair he could find. That he might the better squeeze himself into the small corner that was left for him, Mr. Pinch took up his position on Miss Mercy Pexniff's stool, and setting his glass down upon the hearthrug, and putting his plate upon his knees began to enjoy himself. If Diogenes coming to life again could have rolled himself, Taubinall into Mr. Pexniff's parlor, and could have seen Tom Pinch as he sat on Mercy Pexniff's stool with his plate and glass before him, he could not have faced it out, though in his surliest mood, but must have smiled good temperately. The perfect and entire satisfaction of Tom, his surpassing appreciation of the husky sandwiches which crumbled in his mouth like sawdust, the unspeakable relish with which he swallowed the thin wine by drops, and smacked his lips as though it were so rich and generous that to lose an atom of its fruity flavor were a sin. The look with which he paused, sometimes with his glass in his hand, proposing silent toast to himself, and the anxious shade that came upon his contented face when, after wandering round the room, exulting in its uninvaded snugness, his glance encountered the dull brow of his companion. No cynic in the world, though in his hatred of its men a very griffon, could have withstood these things in Tom's pinch. Some men would have slapped him on the back and pledged him in a bumper of the current wine, though it had been the sharpest vinegar. I, and liked its flavor, too, some would have seized him by his honest hand, and thanked him for the lesson that his simple nature taught them. Some would have laughed with, and others would have laughed at him. Of which last class was Martin Cheslowit, who unable to restrain himself at last laughed, loud and long. "'That's right,' said Tom, nodding approvingly. "'Cheer up! That's capital!' At which encouragement young Martin laughed again and said, as soon as he had breath and gravity enough, I never saw such a fellow as you are, pinch.' "'Didn't you, though?' said Tom. "'Well, it's very likely you do find me strange, because I have hardly seen anything of the world, and you have seen a good deal, I daresay.' "'Pretty well for my time of life,' rejoined Martin, drawing his chair still nearer to the fire, and spreading his feet out on the fender. "'Do take it. I must talk openly to somebody. I'll talk openly to you, pinch.' "'Do,' said Tom, I shall take it as being very friendly of you. "'I'm not in your way, am I?' inquired Martin, glancing down at Mr. Pinch, who was by this time looking at the fire over his leg. "'Not at all,' cried Tom. "'You must know, then, to make short of a long story,' said Martin, beginning with a kind of effort, as if the revelation were not agreeable to him, that I have been bred up from childhood with great expectations, and have always been taught to believe that I should be one day very rich. So I should have been, but for certain brief reasons which I am going to tell you, and which have led to my being disinherited. By your father,' inquired Mr. Pinch with open eyes, by my grandfather, I have had no parents these many years, scarcely within my remembrance. "'Neither have I,' said Tom, touching the young man's hand with his own, intimately withdrawing it again, dear me. "'Why, as to that,' you know, Pinch, pursued the other, stirring the fire again, and speaking in his rapid offhand way. It's all very right and proper to be fond of parents when we have them, and to bear them in remembrance after they're dead, if you have ever known anything of them. But as I never did know anything about mine personally, you know, why, I can't be expected to be very sentimental about them, and I am not. That's the truth.' Mr. Pinch was just then looking thoughtfully at the bars. But on his companion pausing in this place he started and said, "'Oh, of course,' and composed himself to listen again. "'In a word,' said Martin, I have been bred and reared all my life by this grandfather of whom I have just spoken. Now he has a great many good points. There is no doubt about that. I'll not disguise the fact from you. But he has two very great faults, which are the staple of his bad side. In the first place he has the most confirmed obstinacy of character you ever met with in any human creature. In the second he is most abominably selfish. "'Is he indeed?' cried Tom. In those two respects, returned the other, there never was such a man. I have often heard from those who know that they have been time out of mind the failings of our family, and I believe there's some truth in it. But I can't say of my own knowledge. All I have to do, you know, is to be very thankful that they haven't descended to me, and to be very careful that I don't contract them. "'To be sure,' said Mr. Pinch, very proper. "'Well, sir,' resumed Martin, stirring the fire once more and drawing his chair still closer to it. His selfishness makes him exacting, you see, and his obstinacy makes him resolute in his exactions. The consequence is that he has always exacted a great deal from me in the way of respect and submission and self-denial when his wishes were in question and so forth. I have borne a great deal from him because I have been under obligations to him, if one can ever be said to be under obligations to one's own grandfather, and because I have been really attached to him. But we have had a great many quarrels for all that, for I could not accommodate myself to his ways very often, not out of the least reference to myself, you understand, but because he stammered here and was rather at a loss. Mr. Pinch, being about the worst man in the world to help anybody out of a difficulty of this sort, said nothing. Well, as you understand me, resumed Martin quickly, I needn't hunt for the precise expression I want. Now I come to the cream of my story and the occasion of my being here. I am in love, Pinch. Mr. Pinch looked up into his face with increased interest. I say I am in love. I am in love with one of the most beautiful girls the son ever shown upon, but she is wholly and entirely dependent upon the pleasure of my grandfather. And if he were to know that she favored my passion, she would lose her home and everything she possesses in the world. There is nothing very selfish in that love, I think. Selfish, cried Tom. You have acted nobly to love her as I am sure you do, and yet in consideration for her state of dependence, not even to disclose, what are you talking about, Pinch? said Martin, pettishly. Don't make yourself ridiculous, my good fellow. What do you mean by not disclosing? I beg your pardon, answered Tom. I thought you meant that, or I wouldn't have said it. If I didn't tell her I loved her, where would be the use of my being in love, said Martin, unless to keep myself in a perpetual state of worry and vexation? That's true, Tom answered. Well, I can guess what she said when you told her, he added, glancing at Martin's handsome face. Why, not exactly, Pinch, she rejoined with a slight frown, because she has some girly notions about duty and gratitude and all the rest of it, which are rather hard to fathom, but in the main you are right. Her heart was mine, I found. Just what I supposed, said Tom, quite natural. And in his great satisfaction, he took a long sip out of his wine glass. Although I had conducted myself from the first with the utmost circumspection, pursued Martin, I had not managed matters so well but that my grandfather, who was full of jealousy and distrust, suspected me of loving her. He said nothing to her, but straight away attacked me in private and charged me with designing to corrupt the fidelity to himself, there you observe his selfishness, of a young creature whom he had trained and educated to be his only disinterested and faithful companion when he should have disposed of me in marriage to his heart's content. Upon that I took fire immediately and told him that with his good leave I would dispose of myself in marriage, and would rather not be knocked down by him or any other auctioneer to any bitter whomesoever. Mr. Pinch opened his eyes wider and looked at the fire harder than he had done yet. You may be sure, said Martin, that this netled him, and that he began to be the very reverse of complementary to myself. Interviews exceeded interview, words and gendered words as they always do, and the upshot of it was that I was to renounce her or be renounced by him. Now you must bear in mind, Pinch, that I am not only desperately fond of her, for though she is poor her beauty and intellect would reflect great credit on anybody, I don't care of what pretensions who might become her husband. But that a chief ingredient in my composition is a most determined obstinacy, suggested Tom, in perfect good faith. But the suggestion was not so well received as he had expected, for the young man immediately rejoined with some irritation. What a fellow you are, Pinch. I beg your pardon, said Tom. I thought you wanted a word. I didn't want that word, he rejoined. I told you obstinacy was no part of my character, did I not? I was going to say, if you had given me leave, that a chief ingredient in my composition is a most determined firmness. Oh! cried Tom, screwing up his mouth and nodding. Yes, yes, I see. And being firm, pursued Martin, of course I was not going to yield to him or give way by so much as the thousandth part of an inch. No, no, said Tom. On the contrary, the more he urged, the more I was determined to oppose him. To be sure, said Tom, very well rejoined Martin, throwing himself back in his chair with a careless wave of both hands, as if the subject were quite settled and nothing more could be said about it. There is an end of the matter, and here am I. Mr. Pinch set staring at the fire for some minutes with a puzzled look, such as he might have assumed if some uncommonly difficult conundrum had been proposed, which he found it impossible to guess. At length, he said, Pexnip, of course, you had known before? Only by name. No, I had never seen him. For my grandfather kept not only himself, but me, a loop from all his relations. But our separation took place in a town in the adjoining country. From that place I came to Salisbury, and there I saw Pexnip's advertisement, which I answered, having always had some natural taste, I believe, in the matters to which it referred, and thinking it might suit me. As soon as I found it to be his, I was doubly bent on coming to him, if possible, on account of his being such an excellent man, interposed Tom, rubbing his hands. So he is, you were quite right. When not so much on that account, if the truth must be spoken, returned Martin, as because my grandfather has an inveterate dislike to him, and after the old man's arbitrary treatment of me, I had a natural desire to run us directly counter to all his opinions as I could. Well, as I said before, here I am. My engagement with the young lady I have been telling you about is likely to be a tolerably long one, for neither her prospects nor mine are very bright, and, of course, I shall not think of marrying until I am well able to do so. It would never do you know for me to be plunging myself into poverty and shabbiness and love in one room up three pairs of stairs and all that sort of thing. To say nothing of her, remarked Tom Pinch in a low voice. Exactly so, rejoined Martin, rising to warm his back and leaning against the chimney piece, to say nothing of her. At the same time, of course, it's not very hard upon her to be obliged to yield to the necessity of the case. First, because she loves me very much, and secondly, because I have sacrificed a great deal on her account, and might have done much better, you know. It was a very long time before Tom said, certainly, so long that he might have taken a nap in the interval, but he did say it at last. Now there is one odd coincidence connected with this love story, said Martin, which brings it to an end. You remember what you told me last night as we were coming here about your pretty visitor in the church? Surely I do, said Tom, rising from his stool and seating himself in the chair, from which the other had lately risen, that he might see his face. Undoubtedly, that was she. I knew what you were going to say, cried Tom, looking fixedly at him and speaking very softly. You don't tell me so. That was she, repeated the young man. After what I have heard from Peck Sniff, I have no doubt that she came and went with my grandfather. Don't you drink too much of that sour wine, or you'll have a fit of some sort, Pinch, I see. It is not very wholesome, I am afraid, said Tom, setting down the empty glass he had for some time held. So that was she, was it? Martin nodded ascent and adding with a restless impatience that if he had been a few days earlier, he would have seen her, and that now she might be for anything he knew hundreds of miles away, threw himself after a few turns across the room into a chair and chafed like a spoilt child. Tom Pinch's heart was very tender, and he could not bear to see the most indifferent person in distress, still less one who had awakened an interest in him and who regarded him, either in fact or as he supposed, with kindness, and in a spirit of lenient construction. Whatever his own thoughts had been a few moments before, and to judge from his face, it must have been pretty serious. He dismissed them instantly and gave his young friend the best counsel and comfort that occurred to him. All will be well in time, said Tom, I have no doubt, and some trial and adversity just now will only serve to make you more attached to each other in better days. I have always read that the truth is so, and I have a feeling within me which tells me how natural and right it is that it should be. That never ran smooth yet, said Tom with a smile which, despite the homeliness of his face, was pleasanter to see than many of proud beauty's brightest glance. What never ran smooth yet can hardly be expected to change its character for us, so we must take it as we find it and fashion it into the very best shape we can by patience and good humor. I have no power at all, I needn't tell you that, but I have an excellent will, and if I could ever be of use to you in any way, whatever, how very glad I should be. Thank you, said Martin, shaking his hand. You're a good fellow, upon my word, and speak very kindly. Of course you know, he added, after a moment's pause, as he drew his chair towards the fire again. I should not hesitate to avail myself of your services if you could help me at all, but mercy on us. Here he rumbled his hair impatiently with his hand and looked at Tom as if he took it rather ill than he was not somebody else. You might as well be a toasting fork or a frying pan pinch for any help you can render me. I accept in the inclination, said Tom gently. Oh, to be sure, I meant that, of course. If inclination went for anything, I shouldn't want help. I tell you what you may do, though, if you will, and at the present moment, too. What is that? demanded Tom. Read to me. I shall be delighted, cried Tom, catching up the candle with enthusiasm. Excuse my leaving you in the darker moment and I'll fetch a book directly. What will you like, Shakespeare? I replied his friend, yawning and stretching himself. He'll do. I am tired with the bustle of today and the novelty of everything about me, and in such a case there's no greater luxury in the world, I think, than being read to sleep. You won't mind my going to sleep if I can. Not at all, cried Tom. Then begin as soon as you like. You needn't leave off when you see me getting drowsy unless you feel tired, for it's pleasant to wait gradually to the sounds again. Did you ever try that? No, I never tried that, said Tom. Well, you can, you know, one of these days when we're both in the right humor. Don't mind leaving me in the dark. Look sharp. Mr. Pinch lost no time in moving away and in a minute or two returned with one of the precious volumes from the shelf beside his bed. Martin had, in the meantime, made himself as comfortable as circumstances would permit by constructing before the fire a temporary sofa of three chairs with Mercy's stool for a pillow and lying down at full length upon it. Don't be too loud, please, he said to Pinch. No, no, said Tom. You're sure you're not cold? Not at all, cried Tom. I am quite ready, then. Mr. Pinch, accordingly, after turning over the leaves of his book with as much care as if they were living and highly cherished creatures, made his own selection and began to read. Before he had completed fifty lines, his friend was snoring. Poor fellow, said Tom softly, as he stretched out his head to peep at him over the backs of the chairs. He is very young to have so much trouble, how trustful and generous in him to bestow all this confidence in me. And that was she, was it? But suddenly remembering their compact, he took up the poem at the place where he had left off and went on reading, always forgetting to snuff the candle until its wick looked like a mushroom. He gradually became so much interested that he quite forgot to replenish the fire and was only reminded of his neglect by Martin Chuzzlewitt, starting up after the lapse of an hour or so and crying with a shiver. Why, it's nearly out, I declare. No wonder I dreamed of being frozen. Do call for some coals. What a fellow you are, Pinch. End of chapter six. Chapter seven of Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewitt. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewitt by Charles Dickens. Chapter seven, in which Mr. Chevy Slime asserts the independence of his spirit and the blue dragon loses a limb. Martin began to work at the grammar school next morning with so much vigor and expedition that Mr. Pinch had new reason to do homage to the natural endowments of that young gentleman and to acknowledge his infinite superiority to himself. The new pupil received Tom's compliments very graciously and having by this time conceived a real regard for him in his own peculiar way, predicted that they would always be the very best of friends and that neither of them he was certain, but particularly Tom, would ever have reason to regret the day on which they became acquainted. Mr. Pinch was delighted to hear him say this and felt so much flattered by his kind assurances of friendship and protection that he was at a loss how to express the pleasure they afforded him. And indeed it may be observed of this friendship such as it was that it had within it more likely materials of endurance than many a sworn brotherhood that has been rich in promise. For so long as the one party found a pleasure in patronizing and the other in being patronized, which was in the very essence of their respective characters, it was of all possible events among the least probable that the twin demons envy and pride would ever arise between them. So in very many cases of friendship or what passes for it, the old axiom is reversed and like clings to unlike more than to like. They were both very busy on the afternoon succeeding the family's departure. Martin with the grammar school and Tom in balancing certain receipts of rents and deducting Mr. Pexnip's commission from the same, in which abstruse employment he was much distracted by a habit his new friend had of whistling allowed while he was drawing, when they were not a little startled by the unexpected intrusion into that sanctuary of genius of a human head which, although a shaggy and somewhat alarming head in appearance, smiled affably upon them from the doorway in a manner that was at once waggish, conciliatory and expressive of approbation. I am not industrious myself, gents both, said the head, but I know how to appreciate that quality in others. I wish I may turn gray and ugly if it isn't in my opinion, next to genius, one of the very charmingest qualities of the human mind. Upon my soul I am grateful to my friend Pexnip for helping me to the contemplation of such a delicious picture as you present. You remind me of Whittington afterwards thrice Lord Mayor of London. I give you my unsullied word of honor that you very strongly remind me of that historical character. You are a pair of Whittington's gents without the cat, which is a most agreeable and blessed exception to me, for I am not attached to the feline species. My name is Tig, how do you do? Martin looked to Mr. Pinch for an explanation and Tom, who had never in his life set eyes on Mr. Tig before, looked to that gentleman himself. Chevy Slime, said Mr. Tig interrogatively and kissing his left hand in token of friendship, you will understand me when I say that I am the accredited agent of Chevy Slime, that I am the ambassador from the court of Chiv, ha-ha. Heyday, asked Martin, staring at the mention of a name he knew. Pray, what does he want with me? If your name is Pinch, Mr. Tig began, it is not, said Martin, checking himself. That is Mr. Pinch. If that is Mr. Pinch, cried Tig, kissing his hand again, and beginning to follow his head into the room, he will permit me to say that I greatly esteem and respect his character, which has been most highly commended to me by my friend Peck Sniff, and that I deeply appreciate his talent for the organ, notwithstanding that I do not, if I may use the expression, grind myself. If that is Mr. Pinch, I will venture to express a hope that I see him well, and that he is suffering no inconvenience from the easterly wind. Thank you, said Tom, I am very well. That is a comfort, Mr. Tig rejoined. Then he added, shielding his lips with the palm of his hand, and applying them close to Mr. Pinch's ear. I have come for the letter. For the letter, said Tom, allowed. What letter? The letter whispered Tig in the same cautious manner as before, which my friend Peck Sniff addressed to Chevy Slime, as choir, and left with you. He didn't leave any letter with me, said Tom. Hush, cried the other. It's all the same thing, though not so delicately done by my friend Peck Sniff as I could have wished. The money. The money, cried Tom, quite scared. Exactly so, said Mr. Tig, with which he wrapped Tom twice or thrice upon the breast, and nodded several times, as though he would say, that he saw they understood each other, that it was unnecessary to mention the circumstance before a third person, and that he would take it as a particular favor if Tom would slip the amount into his hand as quietly as possible. Mr. Pinch, however, was so very much astounded by this, to him, inexplicable deportment, that he at once openly declared there must be some mistake, and that he had been entrusted with no commission, whatever, having any reference to Mr. Tig, or to his friend, either. Mr. Tig received this declaration with a grave request, that Mr. Pinch would have the goodness to make it again, and on Tom's repeating it in a still more emphatic and unmistakable manner, checked it off, sentence for sentence, by nodding his head solemnly at the end of each. When it had come to a close for the second time, Mr. Tig sat himself down in a chair, and addressed the young men as follows. Then I tell you what it is, gents, both. There is, at this present moment, in this very place, a perfect constellation of talent and genius who is involved through what I cannot but designate as the culpable negligence of my friend, Pexniff, in a situation as tremendous, perhaps, as the social intercourse of the 19th century will readily admit of. There is actually, at this instant, at the blue dragon in this village, an ale-house observe, a common paltry low-minded, clod-hopping pipe-smoking ale-house, an individual of whom it may be said, in the language of the poet, that nobody but himself can in any way come up to him, who is detained there for his bill. Ha, ha, for his bill, I repeat it, for his bill. Now, said Mr. Tig, we have heard of Fox's book of martyrs, I believe, and we have heard of the court of requests and the star chamber, but I fear the contradiction of no man alive or dead when I assert that my friend, Chevy Slime, being held in pawn for a bill, beats any amount of cock-fighting with which I am equated. Martin and Mr. Pinch looked first at each other and afterwards at Mr. Tig, who, with his arms folded on his breast, surveyed them, half in despondency and half in bitterness. Don't mistake me, gents, both, he said, stretching forth his right hand. If it had been for anything but a bill, I could have borne it and could still have looked upon mankind with some feeling of respect. But when such a man as my friend Slime is detained for a score, a thing in itself essentially mean a low performance on a slate or possibly chalked upon the back of a door, I do feel that there is a screw of such magnitude loose somewhere that the whole framework of society is shaken and the very first principles of things can no longer be trusted. In short, gents, both, said Mr. Tig with a passionate flourish of his hands and head, when a man like Slime is detained for such a thing as a bill, I reject the superstitions of ages and believe nothing. I don't even believe that I don't believe. Curse me if I do. I am very sorry, I am sure, said Tom after a pause. But Mr. Pexniff said nothing to me about it and I couldn't act without his instructions. Wouldn't it be better, sir, if you were to go to wherever you came from yourself and remit the money to your friend? How can that be done when I am detained also, said Mr. Tig? And when, moreover, owing to the astounding and I must add guilty negligence of my friend Pexniff, I have no money for coach hire. Tom thought of reminding the gentleman, who no doubt in his agitation had forgotten it, that there was a post office in the land and that possibly if he wrote to some friend or agent for remittance it might not be lost upon the road or at all events that the chance, however desperate, was worth trusting to. But as his good nature presently suggested to him, certain reasons for abstaining from this hint, he paused again and then asked, did you say, sir, that you were detained also? Come here, said Mr. Tig, rising. You have no objection to my opening this window for a moment? Certainly not, said Tom. Very good, said Mr. Tig, lifting the sash. You see a fellow down there and a red neck cloth and no waistcoat? Of course I do, cried Tom, that's Mark Tapley. Mark Tapley is it, said the gentleman, that Mark Tapley had not only the great politeness to follow me to this house, but is waiting now to see me home again. And for that attention, sir, added Mr. Tig, stroking his moustache, I can tell you that Mark Tapley had better in his infancy had been fed to suffocation by Mrs. Tapley than preserved to this time. Mr. Pinch was not so dismayed by this terrible threat, but that he had voice enough to call to Mark to come in and upstairs. A summons which he so speedily obeyed that almost as soon as Tom and Mr. Tig had drawn in their heads and closed the window again, he, the denounced, appeared before them. Come here, Mark, said Mr. Pinch. Good gracious me, what's the matter between Mrs. Lupin and this gentleman? What gentleman, sir, said Mark? I don't see no gentleman here, sir, accepting you and the new gentleman, to whom he made a rough kind of bow. And there's nothing wrong between Mrs. Lupin and either of you, Mr. Pinch, I am sure. Nonsense, Mark, cried Tom, you see, Mr. Tig, interposed that gentleman. Wait a bit. I shall crush him soon, all in good time. Oh, him, rejoined Mark with an air of careless defiance. Yes, I see him. I could see him a little better if he'd shave himself and get his hair cut. Mr. Tig shook his head with a ferocious look and smote himself once upon the breast. It's no use, said Mark. If you knock ever so much in that quarter you'll get no answer, I know better. There's nothing there but padding and a greasy sort it is. Nay, Mark, urged Mr. Pinch, interposing to prevent hostilities. Tell me what I asked you. You're not out of temper, I hope. Out of temper, sir, cried Mark with a grin. Why, no, sir. There's a little credit, not much, in being jolly when such fellows as him is going about like roaring lions. If there is any breed of lions, at least, as is all roar and mane, what is there between him and Mrs. Lupin, sir? Why, there's a score between him and Mrs. Lupin. And I think Mrs. Lupin lets him and his friend off very easy and not charging him double prices for being a disgrace to the dragon. That's my opinion. I wouldn't have any such Peter the Wild Boy as him in my house, sir, not if I was paid race week prices for it. He's enough to turn the very beer in the cask sour with his looks he is. So he would have had judgment enough. You're not answering my question, you know, Mark, observed Mr. Pinch. Well, sir, said Mark, I don't know as there's much to answer further than that. Him and his friend goes and stops at the moon and stars till they've run a bill there and then comes and stops with us and does the same. The running of bills is common enough, Mr. Pinch. It ain't that as we object to. It's the ways of this chap. Nothing's good enough for him. All the women is dying for him, he thinks, and is overpaid if he winks at him. And all the men was made to be ordered about by him. This not being aggravation enough, he says this morning to me in his usual captivating way, we're going tonight, my man. Are you, sir, says I? Perhaps you'd like the bill got ready, sir. Oh, no, my man, he says, you needn't mind that. I'll give Pexnip orders to see to that. In reply to which the dragon makes answer, thank you, sir, you're very kind to honor us so far, but as we don't know any particular good of you and you don't travel with luggage in Mr. Pexnip and at home, which perhaps you may not happen to be aware of, sir, we should prefer something more satisfactory. And that's where the matter stands. And I ask, said Mr. Tapley, pointing in conclusion to Mr. Tig with his hat, any lady or gentleman possessing ordinary strength of mind to say whether he's a disagreeable looking chap or not. Let me inquire, said Martin, interposing between this candid speech and the delivery of some blighting anathema by Mr. Tig, what the amount of this debt may be. In point of money, sir, very little, answered Mark, only just turned of three pounds, but it ain't that, it's that, yes, yes, you told us so before, said Martin, pinch a word with you. What is it, asked Tom, retiring with him to a corner of the room? Why, simply, I am ashamed to say that this Mr. Schleim is a relation of mine of whom I never heard anything pleasant and that I don't want him here just now and think he would be cheaply got rid of, perhaps, for three or four pounds. You haven't enough money to pay this bill, I suppose. Tom shook his head to an extent that left no doubt of his entire sincerity. That's unfortunate, for I am poor too, and in case you had had it, I'd have borrowed it of you. But if we told this landlady we would see her paid, I suppose that would answer the same purpose. Oh, dear, yes, said Tom, she knows me, bless you. Then let us go down at once and tell her so, for the sooner we are rid of their company, the better. As you have conducted the conversation with this gentleman hither, too, perhaps she'll tell him what we purposed doing, will you? Mr. Pinch, complying at once in part of the intelligence to Mr. Tigg, who shook him warmly by the hand in return, assuring him that his faith in anything and everything was again restored. It was not so much, he said, for the temporary relief of this assistance that he prized it, as for its vindication of the high principle that nature's knobs felt with nature's knobs and that true greatness of souls was empathized with true greatness of soul, all the world over. It proved to him, he said, that like him they admired genius even when it was coupled with the alloy occasionally visible in the metal of his friend's slime. And on behalf of that friend, he thanked them as warmly and heartily as if the cause were his own. Being cut short in these speeches by a general move towards the stairs, he took possession at the street door of the lapel of Mr. Pinch's coat as a security against further interruption and entertained that gentleman with some highly improving discourse until they reached the dragon, whether they were closely followed by Mark and the new pupil. The rosy host is scarcely needed, Mr. Pinch's word as a preliminary to the release of her two visitors of whom she was glad to be rid on any terms. Indeed, their brief detention had originated mainly with Mr. Tapley, who entertained a constitutional dislike of the gentleman out at elbows who flourished on false pretenses and had conceived a particular aversion to Mr. Tigg and his friend as choice specimens of the species. The business in hand thus easily settled, Mr. Pinch and Martin would have withdrawn immediately but for the urgent entreaties of Mr. Tigg that they would allow him the honor of presenting them to his friend's slime, which was so very difficult of resistance that yielding partly to these persuasions and partly to their own curiosity, they suffered themselves to be ushered into the presence of that distinguished gentleman. He was brooding over the remains of yesterday's decanter of brandy and was engaged in the thoughtful occupation of making a chain of rings on the top of the table with the wet foot of his drinking-glass. Wretched and forlorn as he looked, Mr. Slime had once been, in his way, the choicest of swaggerers, putting forth his pretensions boldly as a man of infinite taste and most undoubted promise. The stock and trade requisite to set up an amateur in this department of business is very slight and easily got together. A trick of the nose and a curl of the lip sufficient to compound a tolerable sneer being ample provision for any exigency. But in an evil hour this offshoot of the chuzzle-wit trunk, being lazy and ill-qualified for any regular pursuit and having dissipated such means as he ever possessed, had formally established himself as a professor of taste for a livelihood and finding too late that something more than his old amount of qualifications was necessary to sustain him in this calling had quickly fallen to his present level where he retained nothing of his old self but his boastfulness and his bio and seemed to have no existence separate or apart from his friend Tigg. And now so object and so pitiful was he at once so maudlin, insolent, beggarly and proud that even his friend in parasite standing erect beside him swelled into a man by contrast. Chiv, said Mr. Tigg, clapping him on the back, my friend Peck Sniff not being at home, I have arranged our trifling piece of business with Mr. Pinch and friend. Mr. Pinch and friend, Mr. Chevy Slime. Chiv, Mr. Pinch and friend. These are agreeable circumstances in which to be introduced to strangers, said Chevy Slime, turning his bloodshot eyes toward Tom Pinch. I am the most miserable man in the world, I believe. Tom begged he wouldn't mention it and finding him in this condition retired after an awkward pause followed by Martin. But Mr. Tigg so urgently conjured them by coughs and signs to remain in the shadow of the door that they stopped there. I swear, cried Mr. Slime, giving the table an imbecile blow with his fist and then feebly leaning his head upon his hand while some drunken drops oozed from his eyes that I am the wretchedest creature on record. Society is in a conspiracy against me. I'm the most literary man alive, I'm full of scholarship, I'm full of genius, I'm full of information, I'm full of novel views on every subject, yet look at my condition. I'm at this moment obliged to two strangers for a tavern bill. Mr. Tigg replenished his friend's glass, pressed it into his hand and knotted an intimation to the visitors that they would see him in a better aspect immediately. Obliged to two strangers for a tavern bill, eh? replied Mr. Slime after a sulky application to his glass, very pretty and crowds of imposters the while becoming famous, men who are no more on a level with me than Tigg. I take you to witness that I am the most persecuted hound on the face of the earth. With a whine not unlike the cry of the animal he named in its lowest state of humiliation, he raised his glass to his mouth again. He found some encouragement in it for when he set it down he laughed scornfully. Upon that Mr. Tigg gesticulated to the visitors once more and with great expression, implying that now the time was come when they would see Chib in his greatness. Ha, ha, ha, laughed Mr. Slime. Obliged to two strangers for a tavern bill, yet I think I have a rich uncle, Tigg, who could buy up the uncles of fifty strangers. Have I or have I not? I come of a good family, I believe. Do I or do I not? I'm not a man of common capacity or accomplishments, I think. Am I or am I not? You are the American aloe of the human race, my dear Chib, said Mr. Tigg, which only blooms once in a hundred years. Ha, ha, ha, laughed Mr. Slime again, obliged to two strangers for a tavern bill. I, obliged to two architects' apprentices, fellows who measure earth with iron chains and build houses like bricklayers, give me the names of those two apprentices. How dare they oblige me. Mr. Tigg was quite lost in admiration of this noble trait in his friend's character as he made known to Mr. Pinch in a neat little ballet of action spontaneously invented for the purpose. I'll let him know and I'll let all men know, cried Chevy Slime, that I'm none of the mean, groveling, tame characters they meet with commonly. I have an independent spirit. I have a heart that swells in my bosom. I have a soul that rises superior to base considerations. Oh, Chib, Chib, murmured Mr. Tigg, you have a nobly independent nature, Chib. You go and do your duty, sirs, said Mr. Slime angrily, and borrow money for traveling expenses. And whoever you borrow it of, let him know that I possess a haughty spirit and a proud spirit and have infernally finely touched cords in my nature which won't rope patronage. Do you hear? Tell him I hate him and that that's the way I preserve my self-respect and tell him that no man ever respected himself more than I do. He might have added that he hated two sorts of men, all those who did him favors and all those who were better off than himself, as in either case their position was an insult to a man of his dependous merits. But he did not, for with the apt closing words above recited, Mr. Slime, of too haughty a stomach to beg to borrow or to steal, yet mean enough to be worked or borrowed, begged or stolen for by any cat's paw that would serve his turn, too insolent to lick the hand that fed him in his need, yet cur enough to bite and tear it in the dark. With these apt closing words, Mr. Slime fell forward with his head upon the table and so declined into a sod and sleep. Was there ever, cried Mr. Tigg, joining the young man at the door and shutting it carefully behind him, such an independent spirit as is possessed by that extraordinary creature? Was there ever such a Roman as our friend Chiv? Was there ever a man of such a purely classical turn of thought and of such a toga-like simplicity of nature? Was there ever a man with such a flow of eloquence? Might he not, gents both, I ask, have sat upon a tripod in the ancient times and prophesied to a perfectly unlimited extent if previously supplied with gin and water at the public cost? Mr. Pinch was about to contest this latter position with his usual mildness when observing that his companion had already gone downstairs he prepared to follow him. You are not going, Mr. Pinch, said Tigg. Thank you, answered Tom, yes, don't come down. Do you know that I should like one little word in private with you, Mr. Pinch, said Tigg, following him, one minute of your company in the skittle-ground would very much believe my mind. Might I beseech that favor? Oh, certainly, replied Tom, if you really wish it. So he accompanied Mr. Tigg to the retreat in question. On arriving at which place that gentleman took from his hat what seemed to be the fossil remains of an antediluvian pocket-hankerchief and wiped his eyes therewith. You have not beheld me this day, said Mr. Tigg, in a favorable like. Don't mention that, said Tom, I beg. But you have not, cried Tigg. I must persist in that opinion If you could have seen me, Mr. Pinch, at the head of my regiment on the coast of Africa, charging in the form of a hollow square with the women and children in the regimental plate chest in the center, you would not have known me for the same man. You would have respected me, sir. Tom had certain ideas of his own upon the subject of glory, and consequently he was not quite so much excited by this picture as Mr. Tigg could have desired. But no matter, said that gentleman, the schoolboy writing home to his parents in describing the milk and water, said, This is indeed weakness. I repeat that assertion in reference to myself at the present moment, and I ask your pardon. Sir, you have seen my friend Slime? No doubt, said Mr. Pinch. Sir, you have been impressed by my friend Slime? Not very pleasantly, I must say, answered Tom after a little hesitation. I am grieved, but not surprised, Mr. Tigg detaining him with both hands, to hear that you have come to that conclusion, for it is my own. But, Mr. Pinch, though I am a rough and thoughtless man, I can honor mind. I honor mind in following my friend. To you, of all men, Mr. Pinch, I have a right to make appeal on mind's behalf when it has not the art to push its fortune in the world. And so, sir, not for myself who have no claim upon you, but for my crushed, my sensitive and dependent friend who has, I ask the loan of three half-crowns. I ask you for the loan of three half-crowns, distinctly and without a blush. I ask it almost as a right, and when I add that they will be returned by post this week, I feel that you will blame me for that sordid stipulation. Mr. Pinch took from his pocket an old-fashioned red leather purse with a steel clasp, which had probably once belonged to his deceased grandmother. It held one half sovereign and no more, all Tom's worldly wealth until next quarter day. Stay, cried Mr. Tigg, who had watched this proceeding keenly. I was just about to say that for the convenience of posting, you had better make it gold. Thank you. A general direction, I suppose, to Mr. Pinch at Mr. Pexniff's. Will that find you? That'll find me, said Tom. You had better put S-squared in Mr. Pexniff's name, if you please. Direct to me, you know, at Seth Pexniff's Esquire. At Seth Pexniff's Esquire, repeated Mr. Tigg, taking an exact note of it with a stump of pencil. We said this week, I believe. Yes, or Monday will do, observed Tom. No, no, I beg your pardon, Monday will not do, said Mr. Tigg. If we stipulated for this week, Saturday is the latest day. Did we stipulate for this week? Since you are so particular about it, said Tom, I think we did. Mr. Tigg added this condition to his memorandum, read the entry over to himself with a severe frown, and that the transaction might be the more correct in business-like, appended his initials to the whole. That done, he assured Mr. Pinch that everything was now perfectly regular, and after squeezing his hand with great fervor, departed. Tom entertained enough suspicion that Martin might possibly turn this interview into a jest to render him desirous to avoid the company of that young gentleman for the present. With this view, he took a few turns up and down the skittle-ground, and did not re-enter the house until Mr. Tigg and his friend had quitted it, and the new pupil and Mark were watching their departure from one of the windows. I was just saying, sir, that if one could live by it, observed Mark, pointing after their late guests, that would be the sort of service for me, waiting on such individuals as them would be better than grave-digging, sir, and staying here would be better than either, Mark, replied Tom, so take my advice and continue to swim easily in smooth water. It's too late to take it now, sir, said Mark. I have broke a tour, sir. I am off tomorrow morning. Off, cried Mr. Pinch, where to? I shall go up to London, sir. What to be, asked Mr. Pinch. Well, I don't know yet, sir. Nothing turned up that day I opened my mind to you, as was it all likely to suit me. All them trades I thought of was a deal too jolly. There was no credit at all to be got in any of them. I must look for a private service, I suppose, sir. I might be brought out strong, perhaps, in a serious family, Mr. Pinch. Perhaps you might come out rather too strong for a serious family's taste, Mark. That's possible, sir. If I could get into a wicked family, I might do myself justice, but the difficulty is to make sure of one's ground, because a young man can't very well advertise that he wants a place, and wages aren't so much an object as a wicked sedivation. Can he, sir? Why, no, said Mr. Pinch. I don't think he can. An envious family pursued Mark with a thoughtful face, or a quarrelsome family, or a malicious family, or even a good out-and-out mean family would open a field of action as I might do something in. The man as would have suited me if all other men was that old gentleman as was took ill here, for he really was a trying customer. However, I must wait and see what turns up, sir, and hope for the worst. You are determined to go, then, said Mr. Pinch. My box is gone already, sir, by the wagon, and I'm going to walk on tomorrow morning and get a lift by the day coach when it overtakes me. So I wish you good-bye, Mr. Pinch, and you too, sir, and all good luck and happiness. They both returned his greeting laughingly and walked home, arm in arm, Mr. Pinch, imparting to his new friend as they went, such further particulars of Mark Kapley's whimsical restlessness as the reader is already acquainted with. In the meantime, Mark, having a shrewd notion that his mistress was in very low spirits and that he could not exactly answer for the consequences of any lengthened tate-a-tate in the bar, kept himself obstinately out of her way all the afternoon and evening. In this piece of generalship, he was very much assisted by the great influx of company into the tap room. For the news of his intention, having gone abroad, there was a perfect throng there all the evening and much drinking of health and clinking of mugs. At length the house was closed for the night and there being now no help for it, Mark put the best face he could upon the matter and walked doggedly to the bar door. If I look at her, said Mark to himself, I'm done. I feel that I'm a going fast. You have come at last, said Mrs. Lupin. I, Mark said, there he was, and you are determined to leave us, Mark, cried Mrs. Lupin. Well, yes I am, said Mark, keeping his eyes hard upon the floor. I thought, pursued the landlady with the most engaging hesitation, that you had been fond of the dragon. So I am, said Mark, then pursued the hostess and it really was not an unnatural inquiry. Why do you desert it? But as he gave no manner of answer to this question, not even on its being repeated, Mrs. Lupin put his money into his hand and asked him, not unkindly, quite the contrary, what he would take. It is proverbial that there are certain things which flesh and blood cannot bear. Such a question as this, propounded in such a manner, at such a time and by such a person, proved, at least as far as Mark's flesh and blood were concerned, to be one of them. He looked up in spite of himself directly and having once looked up, there was no looking down again. For of all the tight, plump, buxom, bright-eyed, dimple-faced landlady that ever shone on earth, there stood before him then, bodily in that bar, the very pink and pineapple. Why, I tell you what, said Mark, throwing off all his constraint in an instant and seizing the hostess round the waist, at which she was not at all alarmed, for she knew what a good young man he was. If I took what I liked most, I should take you. If I only thought what was best for me, I should take you. If I took what 19 young fellows in 20 would be glad to take and would take at any price, I should take you. Yes, I should, cried Mr. Tappley, shaking his head expressively enough, and looking in a momentary state of forgetfulness, rather hard at the hostess's ripe lips, and no man wouldn't wonder if I did. Mrs. Lupin said he amazed her. She was astonished how he could say such things. She had never thought it of him. Why, I never thought it of myself till now, said Mark, raising his eyebrows with the look of the merriest possible surprise. I always expected we should part and never have no explanation. I meant to do it when I come in here just now, but there's something about you that makes a man sensible. Then let us have a word or two together, letting it be understood beforehand. He added this in a grave tone to prevent the possibility of any mistake. That I'm not going to make no love, you know. There was, for just one second to shade, though not by any means a dark one, on the landlady's open brow, but it passed off instantly in a laugh that came from her very heart. Oh, very good, she said. If there is to be no love making, you had better take your arm away. Lord, why should I, cried Mark? It's quite innocent. Of course it's innocent, returned the hostess, or I shouldn't allow it. Very well, said Mark, then let it be. There was so much reason in this that the landlady laughed again, suffered it to remain, and bade him say what he had to say and be quick about it. But he was an impudent fellow, she added. Ha, ha, I almost think I am, cried Mark, though I never thought so before. Why, I can say anything tonight. Say what you're going to say, if you please, and be quick, returned to the landlady, for I want to get to bed. Why, then, my dear good soul, said Mark, and a kinder woman than you are, never drawed breath, let me see the man as says she did. What would be the likely consequence of us two being, oh, nonsense, cried Mrs. Lupin, don't talk about that any more. No, no, but it ain't nonsense, said Mark, and I wish you'd attend. What would be the likely consequence of us two being married? If I can't be content and comfortable in this here lively dragon now, is it to be looked for as I should be then? By no means, very good. Then you, even with your good humor, would be always on the fret and worried, always uncomfortable in your own mind, always a thinking as you was getting too old for my taste, always a picturing me to yourself as being chained up to the dragon door and wanting to break away. I don't know that it would be so, said Mark, but I don't know that it mightn't be. I am a roving sort of chap, I know. I'm fond of change. I'm always a thinking that with my good health and spirits it would be more creditable in me to be jolly where there's things that going on to make one dismal. It may be a mistake of mine, you see, but nothing short of trying how it acts will set it right. Then an it best that I should go, particular when your free way has helped me out to say all this and we can part as good friends as we ever have been since first I entered this here noble dragon, which, said Mr. Tapley in conclusion, has my good word and my good wish to the day of my death. The hostess sat quite silent for a little time, but she very soon put both her hands in marks and shook them heartily. For you are a good man, she said, looking into his face with a smile, which was rather serious for her, and I do believe have been a better friend to me tonight than ever I have had in all my life. Oh, as to that, you know, said Mark, that's nonsense, but love my heart alive, he added, looking at her in a sort of rapture. If you are that way disposed, what a lot of suitable husbands there is as you may drive distracted. She laughed again at this compliment, and once more shaking him by both hands and bidding him if he should ever want a friend to remember her, turned gaily from the little bar and up the dragon's staircase. Humming a tune as she goes, said Mark, listening, in case I should think she's at all put out and should be made downhearted. Come, here's some credit in being jolly at last. With that piece of comfort very roofily uttered, he went in anything but a jolly manner to bed. He rose early next morning and was afoot soon after sunrise, but it was of no use. The whole place was up to see Mark caply off, the boys, the dogs, the children, the old men, the busy people and the idlers. There they were, all calling out goodbye, Mark, after their own manner, and all sorry he was going. Somehow he had a kind of sense that his old mistress was peeping from her chamber window, but he couldn't make up his mind to look back. Goodbye, Juan, goodbye, all, cried Mark, waving his hat on the top of his walking stick as he strode at a quick pace up the little street. Hardy chaps them will, writes, hurrah. Here's the butcher's dog coming out of the garden. Down, old fellow, and Mr. Pinch are going to his organ. Goodbye, sir, and the terrier bitch from over the way. Hi, then, lass, and children enough to hand down human nature to the latest posterity. Goodbye, boys and girls. There's some credit in it now. I'm a coming out strong at last. These are the circumstances that would try our ordinary mind, but I'm uncommon jolly, not quite as jolly as I could wish to be, but very near. Goodbye, goodbye. End of chapter seven. Chapter eight of Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewitt. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewitt by Charles Dickens. Chapter eight, accompanies Mr. Pexsniff and his charming daughters to the city of London and relates what fell out upon their way thither. When Mr. Pexsniff and the two young ladies got into the heavy coach at the end of the lane, they found it empty, which was a great comfort, particularly as the outside was quite full and the passengers looked very frosty. For as Mr. Pexsniff justly observed when he and his daughters had burrowed their feet deep in the straw, wrapped themselves to the chin and pulled up both windows, it is always satisfactory to feel in keen weather that many other people are not as warm as you are. And this, he said, was quite natural and a very beautiful arrangement, not confined to coaches, but extending itself into many social ramifications. Four, he observed. If everyone were warm and well-fed, we should lose the satisfaction of admiring the fortitude with which certain conditions of men bear cold and hunger. And if we were no better off than anybody else, what would become of our sense of gratitude? Which, said Mr. Pexsniff with tears in his eyes as he shook his fist at a beggar who wanted to get up behind, is one of the holiest feelings of our common nature. His children heard with becoming reverence these moral precepts from the lips of their father and signified their acquiescence in the same by smiles. That he might the better feed and cherish that sacred flame of gratitude in his breast, Mr. Pexsniff remarked that he would trouble his eldest daughter, even in this early stage of their journey, for the brandy bottle. And from the narrow neck of that stone vessel he imbibed a copious refreshment. What are we, said Mr. Pexsniff, but coaches. Some of us are slow coaches. Goodness, Pa, cried Charity. Some of us, I say, resumed her parent with increased emphasis, are slow coaches. Some of us are fast coaches. Our passions are the horses and rampant animals, too. Really, Pa, cried both the daughters at once, how very unpleasant. And rampant animals, too, repeated Mr. Pexsniff, with so much determination that he may be said to have exhibited at the moment a sort of moral rampancy himself. And virtue is the drag. We start from the mother's arms and we run to the dust shovel. When he had said this, Mr. Pexsniff, being exhausted, took some further refreshment. When he had done that, he corked the bottle tight with the air of a man who had effectually corked the subject also and went to sleep for three stages. The tendency of mankind when it falls asleep in coaches is to wake up crossed, find its legs in its way and its horns in aggravation. Mr. Pexsniff, not being exempt from the common lot of humanity, found himself at the end of his nap, so decidedly the victim of these infirmities, that he had an irresistible inclination to visit them upon his daughters, which he had already begun to do in the shape of diverse random kicks and other unexpected motions of his shoes when the coach stopped and after a short delay, the door was opened. Now, mind, set a thin sharp voice in the dark, I and my son go inside because the roof is full, but you agree only to charge us outside prices. It's quite understood that we won't pay more, is it? All right, sir, replied the guard. Is there anybody inside now, inquired the voice. Three passengers returned to guard. Then I asked the three passengers to witness this bargain if they will be so good, said the voice. My boy, I think we may safely get in. In pursuance of which opinion, two people took their seats in the vehicle, which was solemnly licensed by active parliament to carry any six persons who could be got in at the door. That was lucky, whispered the old man when they moved on again and a great stroke of policy knew to observe it. We couldn't have gone outside. I should have died of the rheumatism. Whether it occurred to the dutiful son that he had in some degree overreached himself by contributing to the prolongation of his father's days, or whether the cold had affected his temper is doubtful. But he gave his father such a nudge in reply that that good old gentleman was taken with a cough, which lasted for full five minutes without intermission. And goaded Mr. Peck sniffed that pitch of irritation that he said it last and very suddenly, there is no room, there is really no room in his coach for any gentleman with a cold in his head. Mine, said the old man after a moment's pause, is upon my chest Peck sniff. The voice and manner together now that he spoke out, the composure of the speaker, the presence of his son and his knowledge of Mr. Peck sniff afforded a clue to his identity which it was impossible to mistake. Hmm, I thought, said Mr. Peck sniff, returning to his usual mildness, that I addressed a stranger. I find that I address a relative, Mr. Anthony Cheslewood and his son, Mr. Jonas, for they, my dear children, are our traveling companions. Well, excuse me for an apparently harsh remark. It is not my desire to wound the feelings of any person with whom I am connected in family bonds. I may be a hypocrite, said Mr. Peck sniff cuttingly, but I am not a brute. Poo-poo, said the old man, what signifies that word Peck sniff, hypocrite? Why, we are all hypocrites. We were all hypocrites the other day. I am sure I felt that to be agreed upon among us, or I shouldn't have called you one. We should not have been there at all if we had not been hypocrites. The only difference between you and the rest was, shall I tell you the difference between you and the rest now Peck sniff? If you please, my good sir, if you please. Well, the annoying quality in you is, said the old man, that you never have a confederate or partner in your juggling. You would deceive everybody, even those who practice the same art, and have a way with you, as if you really believed yourself. I'd lay a handsome wager now, said the old man, if I laid wagers, which I don't and never did, that you keep up appearances by a tacit understanding, even before your own daughters here. Now I, when I have a business scheme in hand, tell Jonas what it is, and we discuss it openly. You're not offended Peck sniff? Offended, my good sir, cried that gentleman, as if he had received the highest compliments that language could convey. Are you traveling to London, Mr. Peck sniff? Asked the son. Yes, Mr. Jonas, we are traveling to London. We shall have the pleasure of your company all the way I trust. Oh, my God, you had better ask father that, said Jonas. I am not going to commit myself. Mr. Peck sniff was, as a matter of course, greatly entertained by this retort. His mirth having subsided, Mr. Jonas gave him to understand that himself and parent were, in fact, traveling to their home in the metropolis. And that, since the memorable day of the great family gathering, they had been terrying in that part of the country, watching the sale of certain eligible investments, which they had had in their co-partnership eye when they came down. For it was their custom, Mr. Jonas said, whenever such a thing was practicable, to kill two birds with one stone and never to throw away Sprats but as bait for whales. When he had communicated to Mr. Peck sniff these pithy scraps of intelligence, he said that if it was all the same to him, he would turn him over to his father and have a chat with the gals. And in furtherance of this polite scheme, he vacated his seat adjoining that gentleman and established himself in the opposite corner next to the fair Miss Mercy. The education of Mr. Jonas had been conducted from his cradle on the strictest principles of the main chance. The very first word he learned to spell was gain and the second, when he got into two syllables, money. But for two results, which were not clearly foreseen perhaps by his watchful parents in the beginning, his training may be said to have been unexceptionable. One of these flaws was that having been long taught by his father to overreach everybody, he had imperceptibly acquired a love of overreaching that venerable monitor himself. The other, that from his early habits of considering everything as a question of property, he had gradually come to look with impatience on his parent as a certain amount of personal estate, which had no right whatever to be going at large but ought to be secured in that particular description of iron safe, which is commonly called a coffin and banked in the grave. Well, cousin, said Mr. Jonas, because we are cousins, you know, a few times removed, so you're going to London. Miss Mercy replied in the affirmative, pinching her sister's arm at the same time and giggling excessively. Lots of bows in London, cousin, said Mr. Jonas, slightly advancing his elbow. Indeed, sir, cried the young lady, it won't hurt us, sir, I daresay, and having given him this answer with great demureness, she was so overcome by her own humor that she was feigned to stifle her merriment in her sister's shawl. Mary cried that more prudent damsel. Really, I am ashamed of you. How can you go on, so you wild thing, at which Miss Mary only laughed the more, of course. I saw a wildness in her eye, to the day, said Mr. Jonas, addressing charity, but you're the one to sit solemn. I say you were regularly prim, cousin. Oh, the old-fashioned fright, cried Mary in a whisper, cherry, my dear, upon my word you must sit next to myself, die outright, if he talks to me any more, I shall, positively, to prevent which fatal consequence the buoyant creature skipped out of her seat as she spoke and squeezed her sister into the place from which she had risen. Don't mind crowding me, cried Mr. Jonas, I like to be crowded by gals. Come a little closer, cousin. No, thank you, sir, said charity. There's that other one, a laughing again, said Mr. Jonas. She's a laughing at my father, I shouldn't wonder. If he puts on that old flannel light cap of his, I don't know what she'll do. Is that my father, a snoring pecsniff? Yes, Mr. Jonas. Try it upon his foot, will you be so good, said the young gentleman. The foot next used the gout he won. Mr. Pecsniff, hesitating to perform this friendly office, Mr. Jonas did it himself, at the same time crying, Come, wake up, father, you'll be having the nightmare and screeching out, I know. Do you ever have the nightmare, cousin? He asked his neighbor with characteristic gallantry as he dropped his voice again. Sometimes, answered charity, not often. The other one, said Mr. Jonas, after a pause, does she ever have the nightmare? I don't know, replied charity, you had better ask her. She laughed so, said Jonas, there's no talking to her. Only hark how she's going on now. You're the sensible one, cousin. Tot, tot, cried charity. Oh, but you are, you know you are. Mercy is a little giddy, said Miss Charity, but she'll sober down in time. It'll be a very long time, then, if she does it all, rejoined her cousin. Take a little more room. I am afraid of crowding you, said charity. But she took it, not withstanding, and after one or two remarks on the extreme heaviness of the coach and the number of places it stopped at, they fell into a silence which remained unbroken by any member of the party until supper time. Although Mr. Jonas conducted charity to the hotel and sat himself beside her at the board, it was pretty clear that he had an eye to the other one also. For he often glanced across at Mercy and seemed to draw comparisons between the personal appearance of the two, which were not unfavorable to the superior plumpness of the younger sister. He allowed himself no great leisure for this kind of observation, however, being busily engaged with the supper, which, as he whispered in his fair companion's ear, was a contract business, and therefore the more she ate, the better the bargain was. His father and Mr. Pexniff, probably acting on the same wise principle, demolished everything that came within their reach, and by that means acquired a greasy expression of countenance indicating contentment, if not repletion, which it was very pleasant to contemplate. When they could eat no more, Mr. Pexniff and Mr. Jonas subscribed for two six penny-worths of hot brandy and water, which the latter gentlemen considered a more politic order than one shillings worth. There being a chance of their getting more spirit out of the innkeeper under this arrangement than if it were all in one glass. Having swallowed his share of the enlivening fluid, Mr. Pexniff, under pretence of going to see if the coats were ready, went secretly to the bar and had his own little bottle filled, in order that he might refresh himself at leisure in the dark coats without being observed. These arrangements concluded and the coats being ready, they got into their old places and jogged on again. But before he composed himself for a nap, Mr. Pexniff delivered a kind of grace after meat in these words. The process of digestion, as I have been informed by anatomical friends, is one of the most wonderful works of nature. I do not know how it may be with others, but it is a great satisfaction to me to know, when regaling on my humble fare, that I am putting in motion the most beautiful machinery with which we have any acquaintance. I really feel at such times as if I was doing a public service. When I have wound myself up if I may employ such a term, said Mr. Pexniff with exquisite tenderness, and know that I am going, I feel that in the lesson afforded by the works within me, I am a benefactor to my kind. As nothing could be added to this, nothing was said, and Mr. Pexniff, exalting it may be presumed, in his moral utility, went to sleep again. The rest of the night wore away in the usual manner. Mr. Pexniff and old Anthony kept tumbling against each other and waking up much terrified, or crushed their heads in opposite corners of the coach, and strangely tattooed the surface of their faces, heaven knows how, in their sleep. The coach stopped and went on and went on and stopped, times out of number. Passengers got up and passengers got down, and fresh horses came and went and came again, was scarcely any interval between each team as it seemed to those who were dozing, and with a gap of a whole night between everyone as it seemed to those who were brought awake. At length they began to jolt and rumble over horribly uneven stones, and Mr. Pexniff, looking out of window, said it was tomorrow morning and they were there. Very soon afterwards the coach stopped at the office in the city, and the street in which it was situated was already in a bustle, that fully bore out Mr. Pexniff's words about its being morning, though for any signs of day yet appearing in the sky it might have been midnight. There was a dense fog too, as if it were a city in the clouds which they had been traveling to all night up a magic beanstalk, and there was a thick crust upon the pavement, like oil-cake, which one of the outsides, mad, no doubt, said to another, his keeper, of course, was snow. Taking a confused leave of Anthony and his son, and leaving the luggage of himself and daughters at the office to be called for afterwards, Mr. Pexniff, with one of the young ladies under each arm, dived across the street and then across other streets and sew up the queerest courts and down the strangest alleys and under the blindest archways in a kind of frenzy, now skipping over a kennel, now running for his life from a coach and horses, now thinking he had lost his way, now thinking he had found it, now in a state of the highest confidence, now despondent to the last degree, but always in a great perspiration and flurry, until at length they stopped in a kind of paved yard near the monument. That is to say, Mr. Pexniff told them so, for as to anything they could see of the monument or anything else but the buildings close at hand, they might as well have been playing Blind Man's Bluff at Salisbury. Mr. Pexniff looked about him for a moment and then knocked at the door of a very dingy edifice, even among the choice collection of dingy edifices at hand, on the front of which was a little oval board like a tea tray with this inscription, commercial boarding house, M. Todgers. It seemed that M. Todgers was not up yet, for Mr. Pexniff knocked twice and rang thrice without making any impression on anything but a dog over the way. At last a chain and some bolts were withdrawn with a rusty noise, as if the weather had made the very fastening's horse, and a small boy with a large red head and no nose to speak of and a very dirty Wellington boot on his left arm appeared, who, being surprised, rubbed the nose, just mentioned with the back of a shoe brush and said nothing. Still a bed, my man, asked Mr. Pexniff. Still a bed, replied the boy. I wish there was still a bed. They're very noisy a bed, all calling for their boots at once. I thought you was the paper and wondered why you didn't shove yourself through the grating as usual. What do you want? Considering his years which were tender, the youth may be said to have preferred this question sternly and in something of a defiant manner. But Mr. Pexniff, without taking umbrage at his bearing, put a card in his hand and bade him take that upstairs and show them in the meanwhile into a room where there was a fire. Or, if there's one in the eating-parlor, said Mr. Pexniff, I can find it myself. So he led his daughters, without waiting for any further introduction, into a room on the ground floor, where a tablecloth, rather a tight and scanty fit in reference to the table it covered, was already spread for breakfast, displaying a mighty dish of pink-boiled beef, an instance of that particular style of loaf which is known to housekeepers as a slack-baked, crummy quatern. A liberal provision of cups and saucers and the usual appendages. Inside the fender were some half-dozen pairs of shoes and boots of various sizes, just cleaned and turned with the soles upwards to dry, and a pair of short black gaiters on one of which was chalked in sport, it would appear, by some gentleman who had slipped down for the purpose pending his toilet and gone up again. Jenkins's particular, while the other exhibited a sketch-in profile claiming to be the portrait of Jenkins himself. M. Todgers's commercial boarding house was a house of that sort which is likely to be dark at any time, but that morning it was especially dark. There was an odd smell in the passage as if the concentrated essence of all the dinners that had been cooked in the kitchen since the house was built, lingered at the top of the kitchen stairs to that hour, and like the black fryer in Don Juan, wouldn't be driven away. In particular, there was a sensation of cabbage as if all the greens that had ever been boiled there were ever greens and flourished in immortal strength. The parlor was wainscotted and communicated to strangers a magnetic and instinctive consciousness of rats and mice. The staircase was very gloomy and very broad, with balustrades so thick and heavy that they would have served for a bridge. In a somber corner on the first landing stood a gruff old giant of a clock with a preposterous coronet of three brass balls on his head, whom few had ever seen, none ever looked in the face, and who seemed to continue his heavy tick for no other reason than to warn heedless people from running into him accidentally. It had not been papered or painted, hadn't Todgers's, within the memory of man. It was very black, begrimed, and moldy, and at the top of the staircase was an old disjointed, rickety, ill-favored skylight, patched and mended in all kinds of ways, which looked distrustfully down at everything that passed below, and covered Todgers's up as if it were a sort of human cucumber frame, and only people of a peculiar growth were reared there. Mr. Pexniff and his fair daughters had not stood warming themselves at the fire ten minutes when the sound of feet was heard upon the stairs, and the presiding deity of the establishment came hurrying in. M. Todgers was a lady, rather a bony and hard-featured lady, with a row of curls in front of her head shaped like little barrels of beer, and on the top of it something made of net. You couldn't call it a cap, exactly, which looked like a black cobweb. She had a little basket on her arm, and in it a bunch of keys that jingled as she came. In her other hand she bore a flaming tallow candle, which, after surveying Mr. Pexniff for one instant by its light, she put down upon the table to the end that she might receive him with the greater cordiality. Mr. Pexniff, cried Mrs. Todgers, welcome to London, who would have thought of such a visit as this after so many years. How do you do, Mr. Pexniff? As well as ever, and as glad to see you as ever, Mr. Pexniff made response, why you are younger than you used to be. You are, I am sure, said Mrs. Todgers, you're not a bit changed. What do you say to this, cried Mr. Pexniff, stretching out his hand towards the young ladies? Does this make me no older? Not your daughters, exclaimed the lady, raising her hands and clasping them. Oh, no, Mr. Pexniff, you're second and her ride's made. Mr. Pexniff smiled complacently, shook his head and said, my daughters, Mrs. Todgers, merely my daughters, ah, said the good lady, I must believe you, for now I look at him, I think I should have known him anywhere. My dear Mr. Pexniff, how happy your pa has made me. She hugged them both, and being by this time overpowered by her feelings or the inclemency of the morning, jerked a little pocket handkerchief out of the little basket and applied the same to her face. Now my good madam, said Mr. Pexniff, I know the rules of your establishment and that you only receive gentlemen borders, but it occurred to me when I left home that perhaps you would give my daughter's house room and make an exception in their favor. Perhaps, cried Mrs. Todgers ecstatically, perhaps I may say then that I was sure you would, said Mr. Pexniff. I know that you have a little room of your own and that they can be comfortable there without appearing at the general table. Dear girls, said Mrs. Todgers, I must take that liberty once more. Mrs. Todgers meant by this that she must embrace them once more, which she accordingly did with great ardor. But the truth was that the house being full with the exception of one bed, which would now be occupied by Mr. Pexniff, she wanted time for consideration, and so much time too, for it was a naughty point how to dispose of them, that even when this second embrace was over she stood for some moments gazing at the sisters with affection beaming in one eye and calculations shining out of the other. I think I know how to arrange it, said Mrs. Todgers at length, a sofa bedstead in the little third room which opens from my own parlor. Oh, you dear girls. Thereupon she embraced them once more, observing that she could not decide which was most like their poor mother, which was highly probable, seeing that she had never beheld that lady, but that she rather thought the youngest was, and then she said that as the gentlemen would be down directly and the ladies were fatigued with traveling, would they step into her room at once. It was on the same floor, being in fact that parlor, and had as Mrs. Todgers said, a great advantage in London of not being overlooked, as they would see when the fog cleared off. Nor was this a vanglorious boast, for it commanded at a perspective of two feet, a brown wall with a black cistern on the top. The sleeping apartment designed for the young ladies was approached from this chamber by a mightily convenient little door, which would only open when fallen against by a strong person. It commanded from a similar point of sight another angle of the wall, and another side of the cistern. Not the damp side, said Mrs. Todgers. That is Mr. Jenkins's. In the first of these sanctuaries a fire was speedily kindled by the youthful porter, who, whistling at his work in the absence of Mrs. Todgers, not to mention his sketching figures on his corduroys with burnt firewood, and being afterwards taken by that lady in the fact was dismissed with a box on his ears. Having prepared breakfast for the young ladies with her own hands, she withdrew to preside in the other room, where the joke at Mr. Jenkins's expense seemed to be proceeding rather noisily. I won't ask you yet, my dears, said Mr. Pexniff, looking in at the door, how you like London, shall I? We haven't seen much of it, Pa, cried Mary. Nothing, I hope, said Cherry, both very miserably. Indeed, said Mr. Pexniff, that's true. We have our pleasure and our business, too, before us, all in good time, all in good time. Whether Mr. Pexniff's business in London was as strictly professional as he had given his new pupil to understand, we shall see, to adopt that worthy man's phraseology, all in good time. End of chapter eight.