Martin Chuzzlewit Page 7

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CONTAINING A FULL ACCOUNT OF THE INSTALLATION OF MR PECKSNIFF'S NEWPUPIL INTO THE BOSOM OF MR PECKSNIFF'S FAMILY. WITH ALL THE FESTIVITIESHELD ON THAT OCCASION, AND THE GREAT ENJOYMENT OF MR PINCH

  The best of architects and land surveyors kept a horse, in whom theenemies already mentioned more than once in these pages pretended todetect a fanciful resemblance to his master. Not in his outwardperson, for he was a raw-boned, haggard horse, always on a much shorterallowance of corn than Mr Pecksniff; but in his moral character,wherein, said they, he was full of promise, but of no performance.He was always in a manner, going to go, and never going. When at hisslowest rate of travelling he would sometimes lift up his legs so high,and display such mighty action, that it was difficult to believe he wasdoing less than fourteen miles an hour; and he was for ever soperfectly satisfied with his own speed, and so little disconcerted byopportunities of comparing himself with the fastest trotters, that theillusion was the more difficult of resistance. He was a kind of animalwho infused into the breasts of strangers a lively sense of hope, andpossessed all those who knew him better with a grim despair. In whatrespect, having these points of character, he might be fairly likenedto his master, that good man's slanderers only can explain. But it is amelancholy truth, and a deplorable instance of the uncharitableness ofthe world, that they made the comparison.

  In this horse, and the hooded vehicle, whatever its proper name mightbe, to which he was usually harnessed--it was more like a gig with atumour than anything else--all Mr Pinch's thoughts and wishes centred,one bright frosty morning; for with this gallant equipage he was aboutto drive to Salisbury alone, there to meet with the new pupil, andthence to bring him home in triumph.

  Blessings on thy simple heart, Tom Pinch, how proudly dost thou buttonup that scanty coat, called by a sad misnomer, for these many years,a 'great' one; and how thoroughly, as with thy cheerful voice thoupleasantly adjurest Sam the hostler 'not to let him go yet,' dost thoubelieve that quadruped desires to go, and would go if he might! Whocould repress a smile--of love for thee, Tom Pinch, and not in jest atthy expense, for thou art poor enough already, Heaven knows--to thinkthat such a holiday as lies before thee should awaken that quick flowand hurry of the spirits, in which thou settest down again, almostuntasted, on the kitchen window-sill, that great white mug (put by, bythy own hands, last night, that breakfast might not hold thee late), andlayest yonder crust upon the seat beside thee, to be eaten on the road,when thou art calmer in thy high rejoicing! Who, as thou drivest off, ahappy, man, and noddest with a grateful lovingness to Pecksniff in hisnightcap at his chamber-window, would not cry, 'Heaven speed thee, Tom,and send that thou wert going off for ever to some quiet home where thoumightst live at peace, and sorrow should not touch thee!'

  What better time for driving, riding, walking, moving through the air byany means, than a fresh, frosty morning, when hope runs cheerily throughthe veins with the brisk blood, and tingles in the frame from head tofoot! This was the glad commencement of a bracing day in early winter,such as may put the languid summer season (speaking of it when it can'tbe had) to the blush, and shame the spring for being sometimes cold byhalves. The sheep-bells rang as clearly in the vigorous air, as if theyfelt its wholesome influence like living creatures; the trees, in lieuof leaves or blossoms, shed upon the ground a frosty rime that sparkledas it fell, and might have been the dust of diamonds. So it was to Tom.From cottage chimneys, smoke went streaming up high, high, as if theearth had lost its grossness, being so fair, and must not be oppressedby heavy vapour. The crust of ice on the else rippling brook was sotransparent, and so thin in texture, that the lively water might of itsown free will have stopped--in Tom's glad mind it had--to look upon thelovely morning. And lest the sun should break this charm too eagerly,there moved between him and the ground, a mist like that which waitsupon the moon on summer nights--the very same to Tom--and wooed him todissolve it gently.

  Tom Pinch went on; not fast, but with a sense of rapid motion, which didjust as well; and as he went, all kinds of things occurred to keep himhappy. Thus when he came within sight of the turnpike, and was--oh along way off!--he saw the tollman's wife, who had that moment checked awaggon, run back into the little house again like mad, to say (she knew)that Mr Pinch was coming up. And she was right, for when he drew withinhail of the gate, forth rushed the tollman's children, shrieking in tinychorus, 'Mr Pinch!' to Tom's intense delight. The very tollman, thoughan ugly chap in general, and one whom folks were rather shy of handling,came out himself to take the toll, and give him rough good morning; andthat with all this, and a glimpse of the family breakfast on a littleround table before the fire, the crust Tom Pinch had brought away withhim acquired as rich a flavour as though it had been cut from a fairyloaf.

  But there was more than this. It was not only the married people and thechildren who gave Tom Pinch a welcome as he passed. No, no. Sparklingeyes and snowy breasts came hurriedly to many an upper casement as heclattered by, and gave him back his greeting: not stinted either, butsevenfold, good measure. They were all merry. They all laughed. And someof the wickedest among them even kissed their hands as Tom looked back.For who minded poor Mr Pinch? There was no harm in HIM.

  And now the morning grew so fair, and all things were so wide awake andgay, that the sun seeming to say--Tom had no doubt he said--'I can'tstand it any longer; I must have a look,' streamed out in radiantmajesty. The mist, too shy and gentle for such lusty company, fled off,quite scared, before it; and as it swept away, the hills and mounds anddistant pasture lands, teeming with placid sheep and noisy crows, cameout as bright as though they were unrolled bran new for the occasion. Incompliment to which discovery, the brook stood still no longer, but ranbriskly off to bear the tidings to the water-mill, three miles away.

  Mr Pinch was jogging along, full of pleasant thoughts and cheerfulinfluences, when he saw, upon the path before him, going in the samedirection with himself, a traveller on foot, who walked with a lightquick step, and sang as he went--for certain in a very loud voice, butnot unmusically. He was a young fellow, of some five or six-and-twentyperhaps, and was dressed in such a free and fly-away fashion, that thelong ends of his loose red neckcloth were streaming out behind himquite as often as before; and the bunch of bright winter berries in thebuttonhole of his velveteen coat was as visible to Mr Pinch's rearwardobservation, as if he had worn that garment wrong side foremost. Hecontinued to sing with so much energy, that he did not hear the soundof wheels until it was close behind him; when he turned a whimsicalface and a very merry pair of blue eyes on Mr Pinch, and checked himselfdirectly.

  'Why, Mark?' said Tom Pinch, stopping. 'Who'd have thought of seeing youhere? Well! this is surprising!'

  Mark touched his hat, and said, with a very sudden decrease of vivacity,that he was going to Salisbury.

  'And how spruce you are, too!' said Mr Pinch, surveying him with greatpleasure. 'Really, I didn't think you were half such a tight-madefellow, Mark!'

  'Thankee, Mr Pinch. Pretty well for that, I believe. It's not my fault,you know. With regard to being spruce, sir, that's where it is, yousee.' And here he looked particularly gloomy.

  'Where what is?' Mr Pinch demanded.

  'Where the aggravation of it is. Any man may be in good spirits and goodtemper when he's well dressed. There an't much credit in that. If I wasvery ragged and very jolly, then I should begin to feel I had gained apoint, Mr Pinch.'

  'So you were singing just now, to bear up, as it were, against beingwell dressed, eh, Mark?' said Pinch.

  'Your conversation's always equal to print, sir,' rejoined Mark, with abroad grin. 'That was it.'

  'Well!' cried Pinch, 'you are the strangest young man, Mark, I ever knewin my life. I always thought so; but now I am quite certain of it. I amgoing to Salisbury, too. Will you get in? I shall be very glad of yourcompany.'

  The young fellow made his acknowledgments and accepted the offer;stepping into the carriage directly, and seating himself on the veryedge of
the seat with his body half out of it, to express his beingthere on sufferance, and by the politeness of Mr Pinch. As they wentalong, the conversation proceeded after this manner.

  'I more than half believed, just now, seeing you so very smart,' saidPinch, 'that you must be going to be married, Mark.'

  'Well, sir, I've thought of that, too,' he replied. 'There might be somecredit in being jolly with a wife, 'specially if the children had themeasles and that, and was very fractious indeed. But I'm a'most afraidto try it. I don't see my way clear.'

  'You're not very fond of anybody, perhaps?' said Pinch.

  'Not particular, sir, I think.'

  'But the way would be, you know, Mark, according to your views ofthings,' said Mr Pinch, 'to marry somebody you didn't like, and who wasvery disagreeable.'

  'So it would, sir; but that might be carrying out a principle a littletoo far, mightn't it?'

  'Perhaps it might,' said Mr Pinch. At which they both laughed gayly.

  'Lord bless you, sir,' said Mark, 'you don't half know me, though. Idon't believe there ever was a man as could come out so strong undercircumstances that would make other men miserable, as I could, if Icould only get a chance. But I can't get a chance. It's my opinionthat nobody never will know half of what's in me, unless something veryunexpected turns up. And I don't see any prospect of that. I'm a-goingto leave the Dragon, sir.'

  'Going to leave the Dragon!' cried Mr Pinch, looking at him with greatastonishment. 'Why, Mark, you take my breath away!'

  'Yes, sir,' he rejoined, looking straight before him and a long way off,as men do sometimes when they cogitate profoundly. 'What's the use of mystopping at the Dragon? It an't at all the sort of place for ME. WhenI left London (I'm a Kentish man by birth, though), and took thatsituation here, I quite made up my mind that it was the dullest littleout-of-the-way corner in England, and that there would be some credit inbeing jolly under such circumstances. But, Lord, there's no dullness atthe Dragon! Skittles, cricket, quoits, nine-pins, comic songs, choruses,company round the chimney corner every winter's evening. Any man couldbe jolly at the Dragon. There's no credit in THAT.'

  'But if common report be true for once, Mark, as I think it is, beingable to confirm it by what I know myself,' said Mr Pinch, 'you are thecause of half this merriment, and set it going.'

  'There may be something in that, too, sir,' answered Mark. 'But that'sno consolation.'

  'Well!' said Mr Pinch, after a short silence, his usually subdued tonebeing even now more subdued than ever. 'I can hardly think enough ofwhat you tell me. Why, what will become of Mrs Lupin, Mark?'

  Mark looked more fixedly before him, and further off still, as heanswered that he didn't suppose it would be much of an object to her.There were plenty of smart young fellows as would be glad of the place.He knew a dozen himself.

  'That's probable enough,' said Mr Pinch, 'but I am not at all sure thatMrs Lupin would be glad of them. Why, I always supposed that Mrs Lupinand you would make a match of it, Mark; and so did every one, as far asI know.'

  'I never,' Mark replied, in some confusion, 'said nothing as was in adirect way courting-like to her, nor she to me, but I don't know what Imightn't do one of these odd times, and what she mightn't say in answer.Well, sir, THAT wouldn't suit.'

  'Not to be landlord of the Dragon, Mark?' cried Mr Pinch.

  'No, sir, certainly not,' returned the other, withdrawing his gaze fromthe horizon, and looking at his fellow-traveller. 'Why that would be theruin of a man like me. I go and sit down comfortably for life, and noman never finds me out. What would be the credit of the landlord of theDragon's being jolly? Why, he couldn't help it, if he tried.'

  'Does Mrs Lupin know you are going to leave her?' Mr Pinch inquired.

  'I haven't broke it to her yet, sir, but I must. I'm looking out thismorning for something new and suitable,' he said, nodding towards thecity.

  'What kind of thing now?' Mr Pinch demanded.

  'I was thinking,' Mark replied, 'of something in the grave-digging.way.'

  'Good gracious, Mark?' cried Mr Pinch.

  'It's a good damp, wormy sort of business, sir,' said Mark, shaking hishead argumentatively, 'and there might be some credit in being jolly,with one's mind in that pursuit, unless grave-diggers is usually giventhat way; which would be a drawback. You don't happen to know how thatis in general, do you, sir?'

  'No,' said Mr Pinch, 'I don't indeed. I never thought upon the subject.'

  'In case of that not turning out as well as one could wish, you know,'said Mark, musing again, 'there's other businesses. Undertaking now.That's gloomy. There might be credit to be gained there. A broker's manin a poor neighbourhood wouldn't be bad perhaps. A jailor sees a deal ofmisery. A doctor's man is in the very midst of murder. A bailiff's an'ta lively office nat'rally. Even a tax-gatherer must find his feelingsrather worked upon, at times. There's lots of trades in which I shouldhave an opportunity, I think.'

  Mr Pinch was so perfectly overwhelmed by these remarks that he coulddo nothing but occasionally exchange a word or two on some indifferentsubject, and cast sidelong glances at the bright face of his odd friend(who seemed quite unconscious of his observation), until they reached acertain corner of the road, close upon the outskirts of the city, whenMark said he would jump down there, if he pleased.

  'But bless my soul, Mark,' said Mr Pinch, who in the progress ofhis observation just then made the discovery that the bosom of hiscompanion's shirt was as much exposed as if it was Midsummer, and wasruffled by every breath of air, 'why don't you wear a waistcoat?'

  'What's the good of one, sir?' asked Mark.

  'Good of one?' said Mr Pinch. 'Why, to keep your chest warm.'

  'Lord love you, sir!' cried Mark, 'you don't know me. My chest don'twant no warming. Even if it did, what would no waistcoat bring it to?Inflammation of the lungs, perhaps? Well, there'd be some credit inbeing jolly, with a inflammation of the lungs.'

  As Mr Pinch returned no other answer than such as was conveyed in hisbreathing very hard, and opening his eyes very wide, and nodding hishead very much, Mark thanked him for his ride, and without troublinghim to stop, jumped lightly down. And away he fluttered, with his redneckerchief, and his open coat, down a cross-lane; turning back fromtime to time to nod to Mr Pinch, and looking one of the most careless,good-humoured comical fellows in life. His late companion, with athoughtful face pursued his way to Salisbury.

  Mr Pinch had a shrewd notion that Salisbury was a very desperate sort ofplace; an exceeding wild and dissipated city; and when he had put up thehorse, and given the hostler to understand that he would look in againin the course of an hour or two to see him take his corn, he set forthon a stroll about the streets with a vague and not unpleasant idea thatthey teemed with all kinds of mystery and bedevilment. To one ofhis quiet habits this little delusion was greatly assisted by thecircumstance of its being market-day, and the thoroughfares about themarket-place being filled with carts, horses, donkeys, baskets, waggons,garden-stuff, meat, tripe, pies, poultry and huckster's wares of everyopposite description and possible variety of character. Then there wereyoung farmers and old farmers with smock-frocks, brown great-coats, drabgreat-coats, red worsted comforters, leather-leggings, wonderful shapedhats, hunting-whips, and rough sticks, standing about in groups, ortalking noisily together on the tavern steps, or paying and receivinghuge amounts of greasy wealth, with the assistance of such bulkypocket-books that when they were in their pockets it was apoplexy toget them out, and when they were out it was spasms to get them in again.Also there were farmers' wives in beaver bonnets and red cloaks, ridingshaggy horses purged of all earthly passions, who went soberly into allmanner of places without desiring to know why, and who, if required,would have stood stock still in a china shop, with a completedinner-service at each hoof. Also a great many dogs, who were stronglyinterested in the state of the market and the bargains of their masters;and a great confusion of tongues, both brute and human.

  Mr Pinch regarded everything exposed for s
ale with great delight, andwas particularly struck by the itinerant cutlery, which he consideredof the very keenest kind, insomuch that he purchased a pocket knife withseven blades in it, and not a cut (as he afterwards found out) amongthem. When he had exhausted the market-place, and watched the farmerssafe into the market dinner, he went back to look after the horse.Having seen him eat unto his heart's content he issued forth again,to wander round the town and regale himself with the shop windows;previously taking a long stare at the bank, and wondering in whatdirection underground the caverns might be where they kept the money;and turning to look back at one or two young men who passed him, whomhe knew to be articled to solicitors in the town; and who had a sort offearful interest in his eyes, as jolly dogs who knew a thing or two, andkept it up tremendously.

  But the shops. First of all there were the jewellers' shops, with allthe treasures of the earth displayed therein, and such large silverwatches hanging up in every pane of glass, that if they were anythingbut first-rate goers it certainly was not because the works coulddecently complain of want of room. In good sooth they were big enough,and perhaps, as the saying is, ugly enough, to be the most correct ofall mechanical performers; in Mr Pinch's eyes, however they were smallerthan Geneva ware; and when he saw one very bloated watch announced as arepeater, gifted with the uncommon power of striking every quarter of anhour inside the pocket of its happy owner, he almost wished that he wererich enough to buy it.

  But what were even gold and silver, precious stones and clockwork, tothe bookshops, whence a pleasant smell of paper freshly pressed cameissuing forth, awakening instant recollections of some new grammar hadat school, long time ago, with 'Master Pinch, Grove House Academy,'inscribed in faultless writing on the fly-leaf! That whiff of russialeather, too, and all those rows on rows of volumes neatly rangedwithin--what happiness did they suggest! And in the window werethe spick-and-span new works from London, with the title-pages, andsometimes even the first page of the first chapter, laid wide open;tempting unwary men to begin to read the book, and then, in theimpossibility of turning over, to rush blindly in, and buy it! Here toowere the dainty frontispiece and trim vignette, pointing like handpostson the outskirts of great cities, to the rich stock of incident beyond;and store of books, with many a grave portrait and time-honoured name,whose matter he knew well, and would have given mines to have, in anyform, upon the narrow shell beside his bed at Mr Pecksniff's. What aheart-breaking shop it was!

  There was another; not quite so bad at first, but still a trying shop;where children's books were sold, and where poor Robinson Crusoestood alone in his might, with dog and hatchet, goat-skin cap andfowling-pieces; calmly surveying Philip Quarn and the host of imitatorsround him, and calling Mr Pinch to witness that he, of all the crowd,impressed one solitary footprint on the shore of boyish memory, whereofthe tread of generations should not stir the lightest grain of sand.And there too were the Persian tales, with flying chests and students ofenchanted books shut up for years in caverns; and there too was Abudah,the merchant, with the terrible little old woman hobbling out of the boxin his bedroom; and there the mighty talisman, the rare Arabian Nights,with Cassim Baba, divided by four, like the ghost of a dreadful sum,hanging up, all gory, in the robbers' cave. Which matchless wonders,coming fast on Mr Pinch's mind, did so rub up and chafe that wonderfullamp within him, that when he turned his face towards the busy street,a crowd of phantoms waited on his pleasure, and he lived again, with newdelight, the happy days before the Pecksniff era.

  He had less interest now in the chemists' shops, with their greatglowing bottles (with smaller repositories of brightness in their verystoppers); and in their agreeable compromises between medicine andperfumery, in the shape of toothsome lozenges and virgin honey. Neitherhad he the least regard (but he never had much) for the tailors', wherethe newest metropolitan waistcoat patterns were hanging up, which bysome strange transformation always looked amazing there, and neverappeared at all like the same thing anywhere else. But he stopped toread the playbill at the theatre and surveyed the doorway with a kindof awe, which was not diminished when a sallow gentleman with long darkhair came out, and told a boy to run home to his lodgings and bring downhis broadsword. Mr Pinch stood rooted to the spot on hearing this, andmight have stood there until dark, but that the old cathedral bell beganto ring for vesper service, on which he tore himself away.

  Now, the organist's assistant was a friend of Mr Pinch's, which was agood thing, for he too was a very quiet gentle soul, and had been, likeTom, a kind of old-fashioned boy at school, though well liked by thenoisy fellow too. As good luck would have it (Tom always said he hadgreat good luck) the assistant chanced that very afternoon to be on dutyby himself, with no one in the dusty organ loft but Tom; so while heplayed, Tom helped him with the stops; and finally, the service beingjust over, Tom took the organ himself. It was then turning dark, and theyellow light that streamed in through the ancient windows in the choirwas mingled with a murky red. As the grand tones resounded throughthe church, they seemed, to Tom, to find an echo in the depth of everyancient tomb, no less than in the deep mystery of his own heart. Greatthoughts and hopes came crowding on his mind as the rich music rolledupon the air and yet among them--something more grave and solemn intheir purpose, but the same--were all the images of that day, down toits very lightest recollection of childhood. The feeling that the soundsawakened, in the moment of their existence, seemed to include his wholelife and being; and as the surrounding realities of stone and woodand glass grew dimmer in the darkness, these visions grew so much thebrighter that Tom might have forgotten the new pupil and the expectantmaster, and have sat there pouring out his grateful heart till midnight,but for a very earthy old verger insisting on locking up the cathedralforthwith. So he took leave of his friend, with many thanks, groped hisway out, as well as he could, into the now lamp-lighted streets, andhurried off to get his dinner.

  All the farmers being by this time jogging homewards, there was nobodyin the sanded parlour of the tavern where he had left the horse; so hehad his little table drawn out close before the fire, and fell towork upon a well-cooked steak and smoking hot potatoes, with a strongappreciation of their excellence, and a very keen sense of enjoyment.Beside him, too, there stood a jug of most stupendous Wiltshire beer;and the effect of the whole was so transcendent, that he was obligedevery now and then to lay down his knife and fork, rub his hands, andthink about it. By the time the cheese and celery came, Mr Pinch hadtaken a book out of his pocket, and could afford to trifle with theviands; now eating a little, now drinking a little, now reading alittle, and now stopping to wonder what sort of a young man the newpupil would turn out to be. He had passed from this latter theme and wasdeep in his book again, when the door opened, and another guest came in,bringing with him such a quantity of cold air, that he positively seemedat first to put the fire out.

  'Very hard frost to-night, sir,' said the newcomer, courteouslyacknowledging Mr Pinch's withdrawal of the little table, that he mighthave place: 'Don't disturb yourself, I beg.'

  Though he said this with a vast amount of consideration for Mr Pinch'scomfort, he dragged one of the great leather-bottomed chairs to thevery centre of the hearth, notwithstanding; and sat down in front of thefire, with a foot on each hob.

  'My feet are quite numbed. Ah! Bitter cold to be sure.'

  'You have been in the air some considerable time, I dare say?' said MrPinch.

  'All day. Outside a coach, too.'

  'That accounts for his making the room so cool,' thought Mr Pinch. 'Poorfellow! How thoroughly chilled he must be!'

  The stranger became thoughtful likewise, and sat for five or ten minuteslooking at the fire in silence. At length he rose and divested himselfof his shawl and great-coat, which (far different from Mr Pinch's) wasa very warm and thick one; but he was not a whit more conversational outof his great-coat than in it, for he sat down again in the same placeand attitude, and leaning back in his chair, began to bite his nails. Hewas young--one-and-twenty, perhaps--and
handsome; with a keen dark eye,and a quickness of look and manner which made Tom sensible of a greatcontrast in his own bearing, and caused him to feel even more shy thanusual.

  There was a clock in the room, which the stranger often turned tolook at. Tom made frequent reference to it also; partly from a nervoussympathy with its taciturn companion; and partly because the new pupilwas to inquire for him at half after six, and the hands were gettingon towards that hour. Whenever the stranger caught him looking at thisclock, a kind of confusion came upon Tom as if he had been found out insomething; and it was a perception of his uneasiness which caused theyounger man to say, perhaps, with a smile:

  'We both appear to be rather particular about the time. The fact is, Ihave an engagement to meet a gentleman here.'

  'So have I,' said Mr Pinch.

  'At half-past six,' said the stranger.

  'At half-past six,' said Tom in the very same breath; whereupon theother looked at him with some surprise.

  'The young gentleman, I expect,' remarked Tom, timidly, 'was to inquireat that time for a person by the name of Pinch.'

  'Dear me!' cried the other, jumping up. 'And I have been keeping thefire from you all this while! I had no idea you were Mr Pinch. I am theMr Martin for whom you were to inquire. Pray excuse me. How do you do?Oh, do draw nearer, pray!'

  'Thank you,' said Tom, 'thank you. I am not at all cold, and you are;and we have a cold ride before us. Well, if you wish it, I will. I--I amvery glad,' said Tom, smiling with an embarrassed frankness peculiarlyhis, and which was as plainly a confession of his own imperfections, andan appeal to the kindness of the person he addressed, as if he had drawnone up in simple language and committed it to paper: 'I am very gladindeed that you turn out to be the party I expected. I was thinking, buta minute ago, that I could wish him to be like you.'

  'I am very glad to hear it,' returned Martin, shaking hands with himagain; 'for I assure you, I was thinking there could be no such luck asMr Pinch's turning out like you.'

  'No, really!' said Tom, with great pleasure. 'Are you serious?'

  'Upon my word I am,' replied his new acquaintance. 'You and I will geton excellently well, I know; which it's no small relief to me to feel,for to tell you the truth, I am not at all the sort of fellow who couldget on with everybody, and that's the point on which I had the greatestdoubts. But they're quite relieved now.--Do me the favour to ring thebell, will you?'

  Mr Pinch rose, and complied with great alacrity--the handle hung justover Martin's head, as he warmed himself--and listened with a smilingface to what his friend went on to say. It was:

  'If you like punch, you'll allow me to order a glass apiece, as hotas it can be made, that we may usher in our friendship in a becomingmanner. To let you into a secret, Mr Pinch, I never was so much in wantof something warm and cheering in my life; but I didn't like to run thechance of being found drinking it, without knowing what kind of personyou were; for first impressions, you know, often go a long way, and lasta long time.'

  Mr Pinch assented, and the punch was ordered. In due course it came; hotand strong. After drinking to each other in the steaming mixture, theybecame quite confidential.

  'I'm a sort of relation of Pecksniff's, you know,' said the young man.

  'Indeed!' cried Mr Pinch.

  'Yes. My grandfather is his cousin, so he's kith and kin to me, somehow,if you can make that out. I can't.'

  'Then Martin is your Christian name?' said Mr Pinch, thoughtfully. 'Oh!'

  'Of course it is,' returned his friend: 'I wish it was my surname formy own is not a very pretty one, and it takes a long time to signChuzzlewit is my name.'

  'Dear me!' cried Mr Pinch, with an involuntary start.

  'You're not surprised at my having two names, I suppose?' returned theother, setting his glass to his lips. 'Most people have.'

  'Oh, no,' said Mr Pinch, 'not at all. Oh dear no! Well!' And thenremembering that Mr Pecksniff had privately cautioned him to say nothingin reference to the old gentleman of the same name who had lodged atthe Dragon, but to reserve all mention of that person for him, he hadno better means of hiding his confusion than by raising his own glassto his mouth. They looked at each other out of their respective tumblersfor a few seconds, and then put them down empty.

  'I told them in the stable to be ready for us ten minutes ago,' said MrPinch, glancing at the clock again. 'Shall we go?'

  'If you please,' returned the other.

  'Would you like to drive?' said Mr Pinch; his whole face beaming with aconsciousness of the splendour of his offer. 'You shall, if you wish.'

  'Why, that depends, Mr Pinch,' said Martin, laughing, 'upon what sortof a horse you have. Because if he's a bad one, I would rather keep myhands warm by holding them comfortably in my greatcoat pockets.'

  He appeared to think this such a good joke, that Mr Pinch was quite sureit must be a capital one. Accordingly, he laughed too, and was fullypersuaded that he enjoyed it very much. Then he settled his bill, and MrChuzzlewit paid for the punch; and having wrapped themselves up, to theextent of their respective means, they went out together to the frontdoor, where Mr Pecksniff's property stopped the way.

  'I won't drive, thank you, Mr Pinch,' said Martin, getting into thesitter's place. 'By the bye, there's a box of mine. Can we manage totake it?'

  'Oh, certainly,' said Tom. 'Put it in, Dick, anywhere!'

  It was not precisely of that convenient size which would admit of itsbeing squeezed into any odd corner, but Dick the hostler got it insomehow, and Mr Chuzzlewit helped him. It was all on Mr Pinch's side,and Mr Chuzzlewit said he was very much afraid it would encumber him; towhich Tom said, 'Not at all;' though it forced him into such an awkwardposition, that he had much ado to see anything but his own knees. But itis an ill wind that blows nobody any good; and the wisdom of the sayingwas verified in this instance; for the cold air came from Mr Pinch'sside of the carriage, and by interposing a perfect wall of box andman between it and the new pupil, he shielded that young gentlemaneffectually; which was a great comfort.

  It was a clear evening, with a bright moon. The whole landscape wassilvered by its light and by the hoar-frost; and everything lookedexquisitely beautiful. At first, the great serenity and peace throughwhich they travelled, disposed them both to silence; but in a very shorttime the punch within them and the healthful air without, made themloquacious, and they talked incessantly. When they were halfway home,and stopped to give the horse some water, Martin (who was very generouswith his money) ordered another glass of punch, which they drank betweenthem, and which had not the effect of making them less conversationalthan before. Their principal topic of discourse was naturally MrPecksniff and his family; of whom, and of the great obligations they hadheaped upon him, Tom Pinch, with the tears standing in his eyes, drewsuch a picture as would have inclined any one of common feelingalmost to revere them; and of which Mr Pecksniff had not the slightestforesight or preconceived idea, or he certainly (being very humble)would not have sent Tom Pinch to bring the pupil home.

  In this way they went on, and on, and on--in the language of thestory-books--until at last the village lights appeared before them, andthe church spire cast a long reflection on the graveyard grass; as ifit were a dial (alas, the truest in the world!) marking, whatever lightshone out of Heaven, the flight of days and weeks and years, by some newshadow on that solemn ground.

  'A pretty church!' said Martin, observing that his companion slackenedthe slack pace of the horse, as they approached.

  'Is it not?' cried Tom, with great pride. 'There's the sweetest littleorgan there you ever heard. I play it for them.'

  'Indeed?' said Martin. 'It is hardly worth the trouble, I should think.What do you get for that, now?'

  'Nothing,' answered Tom.

  'Well,' returned his friend, 'you ARE a very strange fellow!'

  To which remark there succeeded a brief silence.

  'When I say nothing,' observed Mr Pinch, cheerfully, 'I am wrong, anddon't say what I mean, because I get a g
reat deal of pleasure from it,and the means of passing some of the happiest hours I know. It led tosomething else the other day; but you will not care to hear about that Idare say?'

  'Oh yes I shall. What?'

  'It led to my seeing,' said Tom, in a lower voice, 'one of the loveliestand most beautiful faces you can possibly picture to yourself.'

  'And yet I am able to picture a beautiful one,' said his friend,thoughtfully, 'or should be, if I have any memory.'

  'She came' said Tom, laying his hand upon the other's arm, 'for thefirst time very early in the morning, when it was hardly light; and whenI saw her, over my shoulder, standing just within the porch, I turnedquite cold, almost believing her to be a spirit. A moment's reflectiongot the better of that, of course, and fortunately it came to my reliefso soon, that I didn't leave off playing.'

  'Why fortunately?'

  'Why? Because she stood there, listening. I had my spectacles on, andsaw her through the chinks in the curtains as plainly as I see you; andshe was beautiful. After a while she glided off, and I continued to playuntil she was out of hearing.'

  'Why did you do that?'

  'Don't you see?' responded Tom. 'Because she might suppose I hadn't seenher; and might return.'

  'And did she?'

  'Certainly she did. Next morning, and next evening too; but always whenthere were no people about, and always alone. I rose earlier and satthere later, that when she came, she might find the church door open,and the organ playing, and might not be disappointed. She strolled thatway for some days, and always stayed to listen. But she is gone now,and of all unlikely things in this wide world, it is perhaps the mostimprobable that I shall ever look upon her face again.'

  'You don't know anything more about her?'

  'No.'

  'And you never followed her when she went away?'

  'Why should I distress her by doing that?' said Tom Pinch. 'Is it likelythat she wanted my company? She came to hear the organ, not to see me;and would you have had me scare her from a place she seemed to growquite fond of? Now, Heaven bless her!' cried Tom, 'to have given her buta minute's pleasure every day, I would have gone on playing the organat those times until I was an old man; quite contented if she sometimesthought of a poor fellow like me, as a part of the music; and more thanrecompensed if she ever mixed me up with anything she liked as well asshe liked that!'

  The new pupil was clearly very much amazed by Mr Pinch's weakness, andwould probably have told him so, and given him some good advice, butfor their opportune arrival at Mr Pecksniff's door; the front door thistime, on account of the occasion being one of ceremony and rejoicing.The same man was in waiting for the horse who had been adjured by MrPinch in the morning not to yield to his rabid desire to start;and after delivering the animal into his charge, and beseeching MrChuzzlewit in a whisper never to reveal a syllable of what he had justtold him in the fullness of his heart, Tom led the pupil in, for instantpresentation.

  Mr Pecksniff had clearly not expected them for hours to come; for he wassurrounded by open books, and was glancing from volume to volume, with ablack lead-pencil in his mouth, and a pair of compasses in his hand,at a vast number of mathematical diagrams, of such extraordinary shapesthat they looked like designs for fireworks. Neither had Miss Charityexpected them, for she was busied, with a capacious wicker basket beforeher, in making impracticable nightcaps for the poor. Neither had MissMercy expected them, for she was sitting upon her stool, tying onthe--oh good gracious!--the petticoat of a large doll that she wasdressing for a neighbour's child--really, quite a grown-up doll, whichmade it more confusing--and had its little bonnet dangling by the ribbonfrom one of her fair curls, to which she had fastened it lest it shouldbe lost or sat upon. It would be difficult, if not impossible, toconceive a family so thoroughly taken by surprise as the Pecksniffswere, on this occasion.

  Bless my life!' said Mr Pecksniff, looking up, and gradually exchanginghis abstracted face for one of joyful recognition. 'Here already!Martin, my dear boy, I am delighted to welcome you to my poor house!'

  With this kind greeting, Mr Pecksniff fairly took him to his arms, andpatted him several times upon the back with his right hand the while,as if to express that his feelings during the embrace were too much forutterance.

  'But here,' he said, recovering, 'are my daughters, Martin; my two onlychildren, whom (if you ever saw them) you have not beheld--ah, these sadfamily divisions!--since you were infants together. Nay, my dears, whyblush at being detected in your everyday pursuits? We had preparedto give you the reception of a visitor, Martin, in our little room ofstate,' said Mr Pecksniff, smiling, 'but I like this better, I like thisbetter!'

  Oh blessed star of Innocence, wherever you may be, how did you glitterin your home of ether, when the two Miss Pecksniffs put forth each herlily hand, and gave the same, with mantling cheeks, to Martin! How didyou twinkle, as if fluttering with sympathy, when Mercy, reminded ofthe bonnet in her hair, hid her fair face and turned her head aside; thewhile her gentle sister plucked it out, and smote her with a sister'ssoft reproof, upon her buxom shoulder!

  'And how,' said Mr Pecksniff, turning round after the contemplation ofthese passages, and taking Mr Pinch in a friendly manner by the elbow,'how has our friend used you, Martin?'

  'Very well indeed, sir. We are on the best terms, I assure you.'

  'Old Tom Pinch!' said Mr Pecksniff, looking on him with affectionatesadness. 'Ah! It seems but yesterday that Thomas was a boy fresh froma scholastic course. Yet years have passed, I think, since Thomas Pinchand I first walked the world together!'

  Mr Pinch could say nothing. He was too much moved. But he pressed hismaster's hand, and tried to thank him.

  'And Thomas Pinch and I,' said Mr Pecksniff, in a deeper voice, 'willwalk it yet, in mutual faithfulness and friendship! And if it comes topass that either of us be run over in any of those busy crossings whichdivide the streets of life, the other will convey him to the hospital inHope, and sit beside his bed in Bounty!'

  'Well, well, well!' he added in a happier tone, as he shook Mr Pinch'selbow hard. 'No more of this! Martin, my dear friend, that you may be athome within these walls, let me show you how we live, and where. Come!'

  With that he took up a lighted candle, and, attended by his youngrelative, prepared to leave the room. At the door, he stopped.

  'You'll bear us company, Tom Pinch?'

  Aye, cheerfully, though it had been to death, would Tom have followedhim; glad to lay down his life for such a man!

  'This,' said Mr Pecksniff, opening the door of an opposite parlour, 'isthe little room of state, I mentioned to you. My girls have pride in it,Martin! This,' opening another door, 'is the little chamber in which myworks (slight things at best) have been concocted. Portrait of myselfby Spiller. Bust by Spoker. The latter is considered a good likeness.I seem to recognize something about the left-hand corner of the nose,myself.'

  Martin thought it was very like, but scarcely intellectual enough. MrPecksniff observed that the same fault had been found with it before. Itwas remarkable it should have struck his young relation too. He was gladto see he had an eye for art.

  'Various books you observe,' said Mr Pecksniff, waving his hand towardsthe wall, 'connected with our pursuit. I have scribbled myself, buthave not yet published. Be careful how you come upstairs. This,' openinganother door, 'is my chamber. I read here when the family suppose I haveretired to rest. Sometimes I injure my health rather more than I canquite justify to myself, by doing so; but art is long and time is short.Every facility you see for jotting down crude notions, even here.'

  These latter words were explained by his pointing to a small round tableon which were a lamp, divers sheets of paper, a piece of India rubber,and a case of instruments; all put ready, in case an architectural ideashould come into Mr Pecksniff's head in the night; in which event hewould instantly leap out of bed, and fix it for ever.

  Mr Pecksniff opened another door on the same floor, and shut it again,all at once, as if it were a Blue Cha
mber. But before he had well doneso, he looked smilingly round, and said, 'Why not?'

  Martin couldn't say why not, because he didn't know anything at allabout it. So Mr Pecksniff answered himself, by throwing open the door,and saying:

  'My daughters' room. A poor first-floor to us, but a bower to them. Veryneat. Very airy. Plants you observe; hyacinths; books again; birds.'These birds, by the bye, comprised, in all, one staggering old sparrowwithout a tail, which had been borrowed expressly from the kitchen.'Such trifles as girls love are here. Nothing more. Those who seekheartless splendour, would seek here in vain.'

  With that he led them to the floor above.

  'This,' said Mr Pecksniff, throwing wide the door of the memorabletwo-pair front; 'is a room where some talent has been developed Ibelieve. This is a room in which an idea for a steeple occurred to methat I may one day give to the world. We work here, my dear Martin. Somearchitects have been bred in this room; a few, I think, Mr Pinch?'

  Tom fully assented; and, what is more, fully believed it.

  'You see,' said Mr Pecksniff, passing the candle rapidly from roll toroll of paper, 'some traces of our doings here. Salisbury Cathedralfrom the north. From the south. From the east. From the west. From thesouth-east. From the nor'west. A bridge. An almshouse. A jail. Achurch. A powder-magazine. A wine-cellar. A portico. A summer-house. Anice-house. Plans, elevations, sections, every kind of thing. And this,'he added, having by this time reached another large chamber on the samestory, with four little beds in it, 'this is your room, of which MrPinch here is the quiet sharer. A southern aspect; a charming prospect;Mr Pinch's little library, you perceive; everything agreeable andappropriate. If there is any additional comfort you would desire to havehere at anytime, pray mention it. Even to strangers, far less to you, mydear Martin, there is no restriction on that point.'

  It was undoubtedly true, and may be stated in corroboration of MrPecksniff, that any pupil had the most liberal permission to mentionanything in this way that suggested itself to his fancy. Some younggentlemen had gone on mentioning the very same thing for five yearswithout ever being stopped.

  'The domestic assistants,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'sleep above; and thatis all.' After which, and listening complacently as he went, to theencomiums passed by his young friend on the arrangements generally, heled the way to the parlour again.

  Here a great change had taken place; for festive preparations ona rather extensive scale were already completed, and the two MissPecksniffs were awaiting their return with hospitable looks. There weretwo bottles of currant wine, white and red; a dish of sandwiches (verylong and very slim); another of apples; another of captain's biscuits(which are always a moist and jovial sort of viand); a plate of orangescut up small and gritty; with powdered sugar, and a highly geologicalhome-made cake. The magnitude of these preparations quite took away TomPinch's breath; for though the new pupils were usually let down softly,as one may say, particularly in the wine department, which had so manystages of declension, that sometimes a young gentleman was a wholefortnight in getting to the pump; still this was a banquet; a sort ofLord Mayor's feast in private life; a something to think of, and hold onby, afterwards.

  To this entertainment, which apart from its own intrinsic merits, hadthe additional choice quality, that it was in strict keeping with thenight, being both light and cool, Mr Pecksniff besought the company todo full justice.

  'Martin,' he said, 'will seat himself between you two, my dears, andMr Pinch will come by me. Let us drink to our new inmate, and may we behappy together! Martin, my dear friend, my love to you! Mr Pinch, if youspare the bottle we shall quarrel.'

  And trying (in his regard for the feelings of the rest) to look as ifthe wine were not acid and didn't make him wink, Mr Pecksniff did honourto his own toast.

  'This,' he said, in allusion to the party, not the wine, 'is a minglingthat repays one for much disappointment and vexation. Let us be merry.'Here he took a captain's biscuit. 'It is a poor heart that neverrejoices; and our hearts are not poor. No!'

  With such stimulants to merriment did he beguile the time, and do thehonours of the table; while Mr Pinch, perhaps to assure himself thatwhat he saw and heard was holiday reality, and not a charming dream, ateof everything, and in particular disposed of the slim sandwiches to asurprising extent. Nor was he stinted in his draughts of wine; but onthe contrary, remembering Mr Pecksniff's speech, attacked the bottlewith such vigour, that every time he filled his glass anew, MissCharity, despite her amiable resolves, could not repress a fixed andstony glare, as if her eyes had rested on a ghost. Mr Pecksniff alsobecame thoughtful at those moments, not to say dejected; but as heknew the vintage, it is very likely he may have been speculating on theprobable condition of Mr Pinch upon the morrow, and discussing withinhimself the best remedies for colic.

  Martin and the young ladies were excellent friends already, and comparedrecollections of their childish days, to their mutual liveliness andentertainment. Miss Mercy laughed immensely at everything that was said;and sometimes, after glancing at the happy face of Mr Pinch, wasseized with such fits of mirth as brought her to the very confines ofhysterics. But for these bursts of gaiety, her sister, in her bettersense, reproved her; observing, in an angry whisper, that it was farfrom being a theme for jest; and that she had no patience with thecreature; though it generally ended in her laughing too--but much moremoderately--and saying that indeed it was a little too ridiculous andintolerable to be serious about.

  At length it became high time to remember the first clause of that greatdiscovery made by the ancient philosopher, for securing health, riches,and wisdom; the infallibility of which has been for generations verifiedby the enormous fortunes constantly amassed by chimney-sweepers andother persons who get up early and go to bed betimes. The young ladiesaccordingly rose, and having taken leave of Mr Chuzzlewit with muchsweetness, and of their father with much duty and of Mr Pinch withmuch condescension, retired to their bower. Mr Pecksniff insisted onaccompanying his young friend upstairs for personal superintendence ofhis comforts; and taking him by the arm, conducted him once more to hisbedroom, followed by Mr Pinch, who bore the light.

  'Mr Pinch,' said Pecksniff, seating himself with folded arms on one ofthe spare beds. 'I don't see any snuffers in that candlestick. Will youoblige me by going down, and asking for a pair?'

  Mr Pinch, only too happy to be useful, went off directly.

  'You will excuse Thomas Pinch's want of polish, Martin,' said MrPecksniff, with a smile of patronage and pity, as soon as he had leftthe room. 'He means well.'

  'He is a very good fellow, sir.'

  'Oh, yes,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'Yes. Thomas Pinch means well. He is verygrateful. I have never regretted having befriended Thomas Pinch.'

  'I should think you never would, sir.'

  'No,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'No. I hope not. Poor fellow, he is alwaysdisposed to do his best; but he is not gifted. You will make him usefulto you, Martin, if you please. If Thomas has a fault, it is that he issometimes a little apt to forget his position. But that is soon checked.Worthy soul! You will find him easy to manage. Good night!'

  'Good night, sir.'

  By this time Mr Pinch had returned with the snuffers.

  'And good night to YOU, Mr Pinch,' said Pecksniff. 'And sound sleep toyou both. Bless you! Bless you!'

  Invoking this benediction on the heads of his young friends with greatfervour, he withdrew to his own room; while they, being tired, soon fellasleep. If Martin dreamed at all, some clue to the matter of his visionsmay possibly be gathered from the after-pages of this history. Thoseof Thomas Pinch were all of holidays, church organs, and seraphicPecksniffs. It was some time before Mr Pecksniff dreamed at all, or evensought his pillow, as he sat for full two hours before the fire in hisown chamber, looking at the coals and thinking deeply. But he, too,slept and dreamed at last. Thus in the quiet hours of the night, onehouse shuts in as many incoherent and incongruous fancies as a madman'shead.