diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 678-0.txt | 3915 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 678-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 77904 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 678-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 305671 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 678-h/678-h.htm | 4041 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 678-h/images/p0b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 194273 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 678-h/images/p0s.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32172 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tcoth10.txt | 3999 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tcoth10.zip | bin | 0 -> 75255 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tcoth11.txt | 4098 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tcoth11.zip | bin | 0 -> 76897 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tcoth11h.htm | 4116 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/tcoth11h.zip | bin | 0 -> 78805 bytes |
15 files changed, 20185 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/678-0.txt b/678-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e18f959 --- /dev/null +++ b/678-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3915 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Cricket on the Hearth + A Fairy Tale of Home + + +Author: Charles Dickens + + + +Release Date: November 9, 2012 [eBook #678] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH*** + + +Transcribed from the Charles Scribner’s Sons “Works of Charles Dickens” +edition by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org + + [Picture: Frontispiece to The Cricket on the Hearth] + + + + + + THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH + A Fairy Tale of Home + + + TO + LORD JEFFREY + THIS LITTLE STORY IS INSCRIBED + WITH + THE AFFECTION AND ATTACHMENT OF HIS FRIEND + + THE AUTHOR + +_December_, 1845 + + * * * * * + + + + +CHAPTER I—Chirp the First + + +The kettle began it! Don’t tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I know +better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the end of time that +she couldn’t say which of them began it; but, I say the kettle did. I +ought to know, I hope! The kettle began it, full five minutes by the +little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, before the Cricket uttered a +chirp. + +As if the clock hadn’t finished striking, and the convulsive little +Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away right and left with a scythe in +front of a Moorish Palace, hadn’t mowed down half an acre of imaginary +grass before the Cricket joined in at all! + +Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one knows that. I wouldn’t set +my own opinion against the opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, unless I were +quite sure, on any account whatever. Nothing should induce me. But, +this is a question of fact. And the fact is, that the kettle began it, at +least five minutes before the Cricket gave any sign of being in +existence. Contradict me, and I’ll say ten. + +Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should have proceeded to do so +in my very first word, but for this plain consideration—if I am to tell a +story I must begin at the beginning; and how is it possible to begin at +the beginning, without beginning at the kettle? + +It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of skill, you must +understand, between the kettle and the Cricket. And this is what led to +it, and how it came about. + +Mrs. Peerybingle, going out into the raw twilight, and clicking over the +wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked innumerable rough impressions +of the first proposition in Euclid all about the yard—Mrs. Peerybingle +filled the kettle at the water-butt. Presently returning, less the +pattens (and a good deal less, for they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle +was but short), she set the kettle on the fire. In doing which she lost +her temper, or mislaid it for an instant; for, the water being +uncomfortably cold, and in that slippy, slushy, sleety sort of state +wherein it seems to penetrate through every kind of substance, patten +rings included—had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle’s toes, and even +splashed her legs. And when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) +upon our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat in point of +stockings, we find this, for the moment, hard to bear. + +Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn’t allow +itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn’t hear of accommodating +itself kindly to the knobs of coal; it _would_ lean forward with a +drunken air, and dribble, a very Idiot of a kettle, on the hearth. It +was quarrelsome, and hissed and spluttered morosely at the fire. To sum +up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle’s fingers, first of all +turned topsy-turvy, and then, with an ingenious pertinacity deserving of +a better cause, dived sideways in—down to the very bottom of the kettle. +And the hull of the Royal George has never made half the monstrous +resistance to coming out of the water, which the lid of that kettle +employed against Mrs. Peerybingle, before she got it up again. + +It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then; carrying its handle +with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly and mockingly at +Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, ‘I won’t boil. Nothing shall induce +me!’ + +But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her chubby little +hands against each other, and sat down before the kettle, laughing. +Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and gleaming on the +little Haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, until one might have +thought he stood stock still before the Moorish Palace, and nothing was +in motion but the flame. + +He was on the move, however; and had his spasms, two to the second, all +right and regular. But, his sufferings when the clock was going to +strike, were frightful to behold; and, when a Cuckoo looked out of a +trap-door in the Palace, and gave note six times, it shook him, each +time, like a spectral voice—or like a something wiry, plucking at his +legs. + +It was not until a violent commotion and a whirring noise among the +weights and ropes below him had quite subsided, that this terrified +Haymaker became himself again. Nor was he startled without reason; for +these rattling, bony skeletons of clocks are very disconcerting in their +operation, and I wonder very much how any set of men, but most of all how +Dutchmen, can have had a liking to invent them. There is a popular +belief that Dutchmen love broad cases and much clothing for their own +lower selves; and they might know better than to leave their clocks so +very lank and unprotected, surely. + +Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the evening. Now +it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and musical, began to have +irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short vocal +snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn’t quite made up its +mind yet, to be good company. Now it was, that after two or three such +vain attempts to stifle its convivial sentiments, it threw off all +moroseness, all reserve, and burst into a stream of song so cosy and +hilarious, as never maudlin nightingale yet formed the least idea of. + +So plain too! Bless you, you might have understood it like a book—better +than some books you and I could name, perhaps. With its warm breath +gushing forth in a light cloud which merrily and gracefully ascended a +few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner as its own domestic Heaven, +it trolled its song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, that its +iron body hummed and stirred upon the fire; and the lid itself, the +recently rebellious lid—such is the influence of a bright +example—performed a sort of jig, and clattered like a deaf and dumb young +cymbal that had never known the use of its twin brother. + +That this song of the kettle’s was a song of invitation and welcome to +somebody out of doors: to somebody at that moment coming on, towards the +snug small home and the crisp fire: there is no doubt whatever. Mrs. +Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as she sat musing before the hearth. +It’s a dark night, sang the kettle, and the rotten leaves are lying by +the way; and, above, all is mist and darkness, and, below, all is mire +and clay; and there’s only one relief in all the sad and murky air; and I +don’t know that it is one, for it’s nothing but a glare; of deep and +angry crimson, where the sun and wind together; set a brand upon the +clouds for being guilty of such weather; and the widest open country is a +long dull streak of black; and there’s hoar-frost on the finger-post, and +thaw upon the track; and the ice it isn’t water, and the water isn’t +free; and you couldn’t say that anything is what it ought to be; but he’s +coming, coming, coming!— + +And here, if you like, the Cricket DID chime in! with a Chirrup, Chirrup, +Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice so astoundingly +disproportionate to its size, as compared with the kettle; (size! you +couldn’t see it!) that if it had then and there burst itself like an +overcharged gun, if it had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped its +little body into fifty pieces, it would have seemed a natural and +inevitable consequence, for which it had expressly laboured. + +The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It persevered with +undiminished ardour; but the Cricket took first fiddle and kept it. Good +Heaven, how it chirped! Its shrill, sharp, piercing voice resounded +through the house, and seemed to twinkle in the outer darkness like a +star. There was an indescribable little trill and tremble in it, at its +loudest, which suggested its being carried off its legs, and made to leap +again, by its own intense enthusiasm. Yet they went very well together, +the Cricket and the kettle. The burden of the song was still the same; +and louder, louder, louder still, they sang it in their emulation. + +The fair little listener—for fair she was, and young: though something of +what is called the dumpling shape; but I don’t myself object to +that—lighted a candle, glanced at the Haymaker on the top of the clock, +who was getting in a pretty average crop of minutes; and looked out of +the window, where she saw nothing, owing to the darkness, but her own +face imaged in the glass. And my opinion is (and so would yours have +been), that she might have looked a long way, and seen nothing half so +agreeable. When she came back, and sat down in her former seat, the +Cricket and the kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect fury of +competition. The kettle’s weak side clearly being, that he didn’t know +when he was beat. + +There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, chirp! +Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle making play in the +distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket round the +corner. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle sticking to him in his own way; no +idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. +Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! +Cricket going in to finish him. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle not to be +finished. Until at last they got so jumbled together, in the +hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, of the match, that whether the kettle +chirped and the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the kettle +hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, it would have taken a +clearer head than yours or mine to have decided with anything like +certainty. But, of this, there is no doubt: that, the kettle and the +Cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some power of amalgamation +best known to themselves, sent, each, his fireside song of comfort +streaming into a ray of the candle that shone out through the window, and +a long way down the lane. And this light, bursting on a certain person +who, on the instant, approached towards it through the gloom, expressed +the whole thing to him, literally in a twinkling, and cried, ‘Welcome +home, old fellow! Welcome home, my boy!’ + +This end attained, the kettle, being dead beat, boiled over, and was +taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then went running to the door, +where, what with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, the voice of +a man, the tearing in and out of an excited dog, and the surprising and +mysterious appearance of a baby, there was soon the very What’s-his-name +to pay. + +Where the baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle got hold of it in that +flash of time, _I_ don’t know. But a live baby there was, in Mrs. +Peerybingle’s arms; and a pretty tolerable amount of pride she seemed to +have in it, when she was drawn gently to the fire, by a sturdy figure of +a man, much taller and much older than herself, who had to stoop a long +way down, to kiss her. But she was worth the trouble. Six foot six, +with the lumbago, might have done it. + +‘Oh goodness, John!’ said Mrs. P. ‘What a state you are in with the +weather!’ + +He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The thick mist hung in +clots upon his eyelashes like candied thaw; and between the fog and fire +together, there were rainbows in his very whiskers. + +‘Why, you see, Dot,’ John made answer, slowly, as he unrolled a shawl +from about his throat; and warmed his hands; ‘it—it an’t exactly summer +weather. So, no wonder.’ + +‘I wish you wouldn’t call me Dot, John. I don’t like it,’ said Mrs. +Peerybingle: pouting in a way that clearly showed she _did_ like it, very +much. + +‘Why what else are you?’ returned John, looking down upon her with a +smile, and giving her waist as light a squeeze as his huge hand and arm +could give. ‘A dot and’—here he glanced at the baby—‘a dot and carry—I +won’t say it, for fear I should spoil it; but I was very near a joke. I +don’t know as ever I was nearer.’ + +He was often near to something or other very clever, by his own account: +this lumbering, slow, honest John; this John so heavy, but so light of +spirit; so rough upon the surface, but so gentle at the core; so dull +without, so quick within; so stolid, but so good! Oh Mother Nature, give +thy children the true poetry of heart that hid itself in this poor +Carrier’s breast—he was but a Carrier by the way—and we can bear to have +them talking prose, and leading lives of prose; and bear to bless thee +for their company! + +It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure, and her baby in her +arms: a very doll of a baby: glancing with a coquettish thoughtfulness at +the fire, and inclining her delicate little head just enough on one side +to let it rest in an odd, half-natural, half-affected, wholly nestling +and agreeable manner, on the great rugged figure of the Carrier. It was +pleasant to see him, with his tender awkwardness, endeavouring to adapt +his rude support to her slight need, and make his burly middle-age a +leaning-staff not inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was pleasant +to observe how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the background for the baby, +took special cognizance (though in her earliest teens) of this grouping; +and stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her head thrust forward, +taking it in as if it were air. Nor was it less agreeable to observe how +John the Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the aforesaid baby, +checked his hand when on the point of touching the infant, as if he +thought he might crack it; and bending down, surveyed it from a safe +distance, with a kind of puzzled pride, such as an amiable mastiff might +be supposed to show, if he found himself, one day, the father of a young +canary. + +‘An’t he beautiful, John? Don’t he look precious in his sleep?’ + +‘Very precious,’ said John. ‘Very much so. He generally _is_ asleep, +an’t he?’ + +‘Lor, John! Good gracious no!’ + +‘Oh,’ said John, pondering. ‘I thought his eyes was generally shut. +Halloa!’ + +‘Goodness, John, how you startle one!’ + +‘It an’t right for him to turn ’em up in that way!’ said the astonished +Carrier, ‘is it? See how he’s winking with both of ’em at once! And +look at his mouth! Why he’s gasping like a gold and silver fish!’ + +‘You don’t deserve to be a father, you don’t,’ said Dot, with all the +dignity of an experienced matron. ‘But how should you know what little +complaints children are troubled with, John! You wouldn’t so much as +know their names, you stupid fellow.’ And when she had turned the baby +over on her left arm, and had slapped its back as a restorative, she +pinched her husband’s ear, laughing. + +‘No,’ said John, pulling off his outer coat. ‘It’s very true, Dot. I +don’t know much about it. I only know that I’ve been fighting pretty +stiffly with the wind to-night. It’s been blowing north-east, straight +into the cart, the whole way home.’ + +‘Poor old man, so it has!’ cried Mrs. Peerybingle, instantly becoming +very active. ‘Here! Take the precious darling, Tilly, while I make +myself of some use. Bless it, I could smother it with kissing it, I +could! Hie then, good dog! Hie, Boxer, boy! Only let me make the tea +first, John; and then I’ll help you with the parcels, like a busy bee. +“How doth the little”—and all the rest of it, you know, John. Did you +ever learn “how doth the little,” when you went to school, John?’ + +‘Not to quite know it,’ John returned. ‘I was very near it once. But I +should only have spoilt it, I dare say.’ + +‘Ha ha,’ laughed Dot. She had the blithest little laugh you ever heard. +‘What a dear old darling of a dunce you are, John, to be sure!’ + +Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see that the boy +with the lantern, which had been dancing to and fro before the door and +window, like a Will of the Wisp, took due care of the horse; who was +fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you his measure, and so +old that his birthday was lost in the mists of antiquity. Boxer, feeling +that his attentions were due to the family in general, and must be +impartially distributed, dashed in and out with bewildering inconstancy; +now, describing a circle of short barks round the horse, where he was +being rubbed down at the stable-door; now feigning to make savage rushes +at his mistress, and facetiously bringing himself to sudden stops; now, +eliciting a shriek from Tilly Slowboy, in the low nursing-chair near the +fire, by the unexpected application of his moist nose to her countenance; +now, exhibiting an obtrusive interest in the baby; now, going round and +round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had established himself +for the night; now, getting up again, and taking that nothing of a +fag-end of a tail of his, out into the weather, as if he had just +remembered an appointment, and was off, at a round trot, to keep it. + +‘There! There’s the teapot, ready on the hob!’ said Dot; as briskly busy +as a child at play at keeping house. ‘And there’s the old knuckle of +ham; and there’s the butter; and there’s the crusty loaf, and all! +Here’s the clothes-basket for the small parcels, John, if you’ve got any +there—where are you, John?’ + +‘Don’t let the dear child fall under the grate, Tilly, whatever you do!’ + +It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her rejecting the caution +with some vivacity, that she had a rare and surprising talent for getting +this baby into difficulties and had several times imperilled its short +life, in a quiet way peculiarly her own. She was of a spare and straight +shape, this young lady, insomuch that her garments appeared to be in +constant danger of sliding off those sharp pegs, her shoulders, on which +they were loosely hung. Her costume was remarkable for the partial +development, on all possible occasions, of some flannel vestment of a +singular structure; also for affording glimpses, in the region of the +back, of a corset, or pair of stays, in colour a dead-green. Being +always in a state of gaping admiration at everything, and absorbed, +besides, in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress’s perfections and +the baby’s, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of judgment, may be said +to have done equal honour to her head and to her heart; and though these +did less honour to the baby’s head, which they were the occasional means +of bringing into contact with deal doors, dressers, stair-rails, +bed-posts, and other foreign substances, still they were the honest +results of Tilly Slowboy’s constant astonishment at finding herself so +kindly treated, and installed in such a comfortable home. For, the +maternal and paternal Slowboy were alike unknown to Fame, and Tilly had +been bred by public charity, a foundling; which word, though only +differing from fondling by one vowel’s length, is very different in +meaning, and expresses quite another thing. + +To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with her husband, tugging +at the clothes-basket, and making the most strenuous exertions to do +nothing at all (for he carried it), would have amused you almost as much +as it amused him. It may have entertained the Cricket too, for anything +I know; but, certainly, it now began to chirp again, vehemently. + +‘Heyday!’ said John, in his slow way. ‘It’s merrier than ever, to-night, +I think.’ + +‘And it’s sure to bring us good fortune, John! It always has done so. +To have a Cricket on the Hearth, is the luckiest thing in all the world!’ + +John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the thought into his +head, that she was his Cricket in chief, and he quite agreed with her. +But, it was probably one of his narrow escapes, for he said nothing. + +‘The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, was on that night +when you brought me home—when you brought me to my new home here; its +little mistress. Nearly a year ago. You recollect, John?’ + +O yes. John remembered. I should think so! + +‘Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so full of promise and +encouragement. It seemed to say, you would be kind and gentle with me, +and would not expect (I had a fear of that, John, then) to find an old +head on the shoulders of your foolish little wife.’ + +John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and then the head, as +though he would have said No, no; he had had no such expectation; he had +been quite content to take them as they were. And really he had reason. +They were very comely. + +‘It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say so; for you have ever +been, I am sure, the best, the most considerate, the most affectionate of +husbands to me. This has been a happy home, John; and I love the Cricket +for its sake!’ + +‘Why so do I then,’ said the Carrier. ‘So do I, Dot.’ + +‘I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the many thoughts its +harmless music has given me. Sometimes, in the twilight, when I have +felt a little solitary and down-hearted, John—before baby was here to +keep me company and make the house gay—when I have thought how lonely you +would be if I should die; how lonely I should be if I could know that you +had lost me, dear; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp upon the hearth, has seemed to +tell me of another little voice, so sweet, so very dear to me, before +whose coming sound my trouble vanished like a dream. And when I used to +fear—I did fear once, John, I was very young you know—that ours might +prove to be an ill-assorted marriage, I being such a child, and you more +like my guardian than my husband; and that you might not, however hard +you tried, be able to learn to love me, as you hoped and prayed you +might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp has cheered me up again, and filled me +with new trust and confidence. I was thinking of these things to-night, +dear, when I sat expecting you; and I love the Cricket for their sake!’ + +‘And so do I,’ repeated John. ‘But, Dot? _I_ hope and pray that I might +learn to love you? How you talk! I had learnt that, long before I +brought you here, to be the Cricket’s little mistress, Dot!’ + +She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked up at him with an +agitated face, as if she would have told him something. Next moment she +was down upon her knees before the basket, speaking in a sprightly voice, +and busy with the parcels. + +‘There are not many of them to-night, John, but I saw some goods behind +the cart, just now; and though they give more trouble, perhaps, still +they pay as well; so we have no reason to grumble, have we? Besides, you +have been delivering, I dare say, as you came along?’ + +‘Oh yes,’ John said. ‘A good many.’ + +‘Why what’s this round box? Heart alive, John, it’s a wedding-cake!’ + +‘Leave a woman alone to find out that,’ said John, admiringly. ‘Now a +man would never have thought of it. Whereas, it’s my belief that if you +was to pack a wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a turn-up bedstead, or a +pickled salmon keg, or any unlikely thing, a woman would be sure to find +it out directly. Yes; I called for it at the pastry-cook’s.’ + +‘And it weighs I don’t know what—whole hundredweights!’ cried Dot, making +a great demonstration of trying to lift it. + +‘Whose is it, John? Where is it going?’ + +‘Read the writing on the other side,’ said John. + +‘Why, John! My Goodness, John!’ + +‘Ah! who’d have thought it!’ John returned. + +‘You never mean to say,’ pursued Dot, sitting on the floor and shaking +her head at him, ‘that it’s Gruff and Tackleton the toymaker!’ + +John nodded. + +Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. Not in assent—in +dumb and pitying amazement; screwing up her lips the while with all their +little force (they were never made for screwing up; I am clear of that), +and looking the good Carrier through and through, in her abstraction. +Miss Slowboy, in the mean time, who had a mechanical power of reproducing +scraps of current conversation for the delectation of the baby, with all +the sense struck out of them, and all the nouns changed into the plural +number, inquired aloud of that young creature, Was it Gruffs and +Tackletons the toymakers then, and Would it call at Pastry-cooks for +wedding-cakes, and Did its mothers know the boxes when its fathers +brought them homes; and so on. + +‘And that is really to come about!’ said Dot. ‘Why, she and I were girls +at school together, John.’ + +He might have been thinking of her, or nearly thinking of her, perhaps, +as she was in that same school time. He looked upon her with a +thoughtful pleasure, but he made no answer. + +‘And he’s as old! As unlike her!—Why, how many years older than you, is +Gruff and Tackleton, John?’ + +‘How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at one sitting, than +Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, I wonder!’ replied John, +good-humouredly, as he drew a chair to the round table, and began at the +cold ham. ‘As to eating, I eat but little; but that little I enjoy, +Dot.’ + +Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of his innocent +delusions (for his appetite was always obstinate, and flatly contradicted +him), awoke no smile in the face of his little wife, who stood among the +parcels, pushing the cake-box slowly from her with her foot, and never +once looked, though her eyes were cast down too, upon the dainty shoe she +generally was so mindful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood there, +heedless alike of the tea and John (although he called to her, and rapped +the table with his knife to startle her), until he rose and touched her +on the arm; when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to her place +behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence. But, not as she had +laughed before. The manner and the music were quite changed. + +The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not so cheerful as +it had been. Nothing like it. + +‘So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?’ she said, breaking a +long silence, which the honest Carrier had devoted to the practical +illustration of one part of his favourite sentiment—certainly enjoying +what he ate, if it couldn’t be admitted that he ate but little. ‘So, +these are all the parcels; are they, John?’ + +‘That’s all,’ said John. ‘Why—no—I—’ laying down his knife and fork, and +taking a long breath. ‘I declare—I’ve clean forgotten the old +gentleman!’ + +‘The old gentleman?’ + +‘In the cart,’ said John. ‘He was asleep, among the straw, the last time +I saw him. I’ve very nearly remembered him, twice, since I came in; but +he went out of my head again. Halloa! Yahip there! Rouse up! That’s +my hearty!’ + +John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had hurried +with the candle in his hand. + +Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference to The Old +Gentleman, and connecting in her mystified imagination certain +associations of a religious nature with the phrase, was so disturbed, +that hastily rising from the low chair by the fire to seek protection +near the skirts of her mistress, and coming into contact as she crossed +the doorway with an ancient Stranger, she instinctively made a charge or +butt at him with the only offensive instrument within her reach. This +instrument happening to be the baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, +which the sagacity of Boxer rather tended to increase; for, that good +dog, more thoughtful than its master, had, it seemed, been watching the +old gentleman in his sleep, lest he should walk off with a few young +poplar trees that were tied up behind the cart; and he still attended on +him very closely, worrying his gaiters in fact, and making dead sets at +the buttons. + +‘You’re such an undeniable good sleeper, sir,’ said John, when +tranquillity was restored; in the mean time the old gentleman had stood, +bareheaded and motionless, in the centre of the room; ‘that I have half a +mind to ask you where the other six are—only that would be a joke, and I +know I should spoil it. Very near though,’ murmured the Carrier, with a +chuckle; ‘very near!’ + +The Stranger, who had long white hair, good features, singularly bold and +well defined for an old man, and dark, bright, penetrating eyes, looked +round with a smile, and saluted the Carrier’s wife by gravely inclining +his head. + +His garb was very quaint and odd—a long, long way behind the time. Its +hue was brown, all over. In his hand he held a great brown club or +walking-stick; and striking this upon the floor, it fell asunder, and +became a chair. On which he sat down, quite composedly. + +‘There!’ said the Carrier, turning to his wife. ‘That’s the way I found +him, sitting by the roadside! Upright as a milestone. And almost as +deaf.’ + +‘Sitting in the open air, John!’ + +‘In the open air,’ replied the Carrier, ‘just at dusk. “Carriage Paid,” +he said; and gave me eighteenpence. Then he got in. And there he is.’ + +‘He’s going, John, I think!’ + +Not at all. He was only going to speak. + +‘If you please, I was to be left till called for,’ said the Stranger, +mildly. ‘Don’t mind me.’ + +With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large pockets, +and a book from another, and leisurely began to read. Making no more of +Boxer than if he had been a house lamb! + +The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. The Stranger +raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the former, said, + +‘Your daughter, my good friend?’ + +‘Wife,’ returned John. + +‘Niece?’ said the Stranger. + +‘Wife,’ roared John. + +‘Indeed?’ observed the Stranger. ‘Surely? Very young!’ + +He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. But, before he could +have read two lines, he again interrupted himself to say: + +‘Baby, yours?’ + +John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an answer in the affirmative, +delivered through a speaking trumpet. + +‘Girl?’ + +‘Bo-o-oy!’ roared John. + +‘Also very young, eh?’ + +Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. ‘Two months and three da-ays! +Vaccinated just six weeks ago-o! Took very fine-ly! Considered, by the +doctor, a remarkably beautiful chi-ild! Equal to the general run of +children at five months o-old! Takes notice, in a way quite won-der-ful! +May seem impossible to you, but feels his legs al-ready!’ + +Here the breathless little mother, who had been shrieking these short +sentences into the old man’s ear, until her pretty face was crimsoned, +held up the Baby before him as a stubborn and triumphant fact; while +Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious cry of ‘Ketcher, Ketcher’—which sounded +like some unknown words, adapted to a popular Sneeze—performed some +cow-like gambols round that all unconscious Innocent. + +‘Hark! He’s called for, sure enough,’ said John. ‘There’s somebody at +the door. Open it, Tilly.’ + +Before she could reach it, however, it was opened from without; being a +primitive sort of door, with a latch, that any one could lift if he +chose—and a good many people did choose, for all kinds of neighbours +liked to have a cheerful word or two with the Carrier, though he was no +great talker himself. Being opened, it gave admission to a little, +meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, who seemed to have made himself a +great-coat from the sack-cloth covering of some old box; for, when he +turned to shut the door, and keep the weather out, he disclosed upon the +back of that garment, the inscription G & T in large black capitals. +Also the word GLASS in bold characters. + +‘Good evening, John!’ said the little man. ‘Good evening, Mum. Good +evening, Tilly. Good evening, Unbeknown! How’s Baby, Mum? Boxer’s +pretty well I hope?’ + +‘All thriving, Caleb,’ replied Dot. ‘I am sure you need only look at the +dear child, for one, to know that.’ + +‘And I’m sure I need only look at you for another,’ said Caleb. + +He didn’t look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful eye which +seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time and place, no +matter what he said; a description which will equally apply to his voice. + +‘Or at John for another,’ said Caleb. ‘Or at Tilly, as far as that goes. +Or certainly at Boxer.’ + +‘Busy just now, Caleb?’ asked the Carrier. + +‘Why, pretty well, John,’ he returned, with the distraught air of a man +who was casting about for the Philosopher’s stone, at least. ‘Pretty +much so. There’s rather a run on Noah’s Arks at present. I could have +wished to improve upon the Family, but I don’t see how it’s to be done at +the price. It would be a satisfaction to one’s mind, to make it clearer +which was Shems and Hams, and which was Wives. Flies an’t on that scale +neither, as compared with elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got +anything in the parcel line for me, John?’ + +The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken off; and +brought out, carefully preserved in moss and paper, a tiny flower-pot. + +‘There it is!’ he said, adjusting it with great care. ‘Not so much as a +leaf damaged. Full of buds!’ + +Caleb’s dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him. + +‘Dear, Caleb,’ said the Carrier. ‘Very dear at this season.’ + +‘Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost,’ returned +the little man. ‘Anything else, John?’ + +‘A small box,’ replied the Carrier. ‘Here you are!’ + +‘“For Caleb Plummer,”’ said the little man, spelling out the direction. +‘“With Cash.” With Cash, John? I don’t think it’s for me.’ + +‘With Care,’ returned the Carrier, looking over his shoulder. ‘Where do +you make out cash?’ + +‘Oh! To be sure!’ said Caleb. ‘It’s all right. With care! Yes, yes; +that’s mine. It might have been with cash, indeed, if my dear Boy in the +Golden South Americas had lived, John. You loved him like a son; didn’t +you? You needn’t say you did. _I_ know, of course. “Caleb Plummer. +With care.” Yes, yes, it’s all right. It’s a box of dolls’ eyes for my +daughter’s work. I wish it was her own sight in a box, John.’ + +‘I wish it was, or could be!’ cried the Carrier. + +‘Thank’ee,’ said the little man. ‘You speak very hearty. To think that +she should never see the Dolls—and them a-staring at her, so bold, all +day long! That’s where it cuts. What’s the damage, John?’ + +‘I’ll damage you,’ said John, ‘if you inquire. Dot! Very near?’ + +‘Well! it’s like you to say so,’ observed the little man. ‘It’s your +kind way. Let me see. I think that’s all.’ + +‘I think not,’ said the Carrier. ‘Try again.’ + +‘Something for our Governor, eh?’ said Caleb, after pondering a little +while. ‘To be sure. That’s what I came for; but my head’s so running on +them Arks and things! He hasn’t been here, has he?’ + +‘Not he,’ returned the Carrier. ‘He’s too busy, courting.’ + +‘He’s coming round though,’ said Caleb; ‘for he told me to keep on the +near side of the road going home, and it was ten to one he’d take me up. +I had better go, by the bye.—You couldn’t have the goodness to let me +pinch Boxer’s tail, Mum, for half a moment, could you?’ + +‘Why, Caleb! what a question!’ + +‘Oh never mind, Mum,’ said the little man. ‘He mightn’t like it perhaps. +There’s a small order just come in, for barking dogs; and I should wish +to go as close to Natur’ as I could, for sixpence. That’s all. Never +mind, Mum.’ + +It happened opportunely, that Boxer, without receiving the proposed +stimulus, began to bark with great zeal. But, as this implied the +approach of some new visitor, Caleb, postponing his study from the life +to a more convenient season, shouldered the round box, and took a hurried +leave. He might have spared himself the trouble, for he met the visitor +upon the threshold. + +‘Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a bit. I’ll take you home. John +Peerybingle, my service to you. More of my service to your pretty wife. +Handsomer every day! Better too, if possible! And younger,’ mused the +speaker, in a low voice; ‘that’s the Devil of it!’ + +‘I should be astonished at your paying compliments, Mr. Tackleton,’ said +Dot, not with the best grace in the world; ‘but for your condition.’ + +‘You know all about it then?’ + +‘I have got myself to believe it, somehow,’ said Dot. + +‘After a hard struggle, I suppose?’ + +‘Very.’ + +Tackleton the Toy-merchant, pretty generally known as Gruff and +Tackleton—for that was the firm, though Gruff had been bought out long +ago; only leaving his name, and as some said his nature, according to its +Dictionary meaning, in the business—Tackleton the Toy-merchant, was a man +whose vocation had been quite misunderstood by his Parents and Guardians. +If they had made him a Money Lender, or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff’s +Officer, or a Broker, he might have sown his discontented oats in his +youth, and, after having had the full run of himself in ill-natured +transactions, might have turned out amiable, at last, for the sake of a +little freshness and novelty. But, cramped and chafing in the peaceable +pursuit of toy-making, he was a domestic Ogre, who had been living on +children all his life, and was their implacable enemy. He despised all +toys; wouldn’t have bought one for the world; delighted, in his malice, +to insinuate grim expressions into the faces of brown-paper farmers who +drove pigs to market, bellmen who advertised lost lawyers’ consciences, +movable old ladies who darned stockings or carved pies; and other like +samples of his stock in trade. In appalling masks; hideous, hairy, +red-eyed Jacks in Boxes; Vampire Kites; demoniacal Tumblers who wouldn’t +lie down, and were perpetually flying forward, to stare infants out of +countenance; his soul perfectly revelled. They were his only relief, and +safety-valve. He was great in such inventions. Anything suggestive of a +Pony-nightmare was delicious to him. He had even lost money (and he took +to that toy very kindly) by getting up Goblin slides for magic-lanterns, +whereon the Powers of Darkness were depicted as a sort of supernatural +shell-fish, with human faces. In intensifying the portraiture of Giants, +he had sunk quite a little capital; and, though no painter himself, he +could indicate, for the instruction of his artists, with a piece of +chalk, a certain furtive leer for the countenances of those monsters, +which was safe to destroy the peace of mind of any young gentleman +between the ages of six and eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer +Vacation. + +What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other things. You may +easily suppose, therefore, that within the great green cape, which +reached down to the calves of his legs, there was buttoned up to the chin +an uncommonly pleasant fellow; and that he was about as choice a spirit, +and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a pair of +bull-headed-looking boots with mahogany-coloured tops. + +Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be married. In spite of +all this, he was going to be married. And to a young wife too, a +beautiful young wife. + +He didn’t look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in the Carrier’s +kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a screw in his body, and his +hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands tucked down into +the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic ill-conditioned self +peering out of one little corner of one little eye, like the concentrated +essence of any number of ravens. But, a Bridegroom he designed to be. + +‘In three days’ time. Next Thursday. The last day of the first month in +the year. That’s my wedding-day,’ said Tackleton. + +Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one eye nearly +shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the expressive eye? I +don’t think I did. + +‘That’s my wedding-day!’ said Tackleton, rattling his money. + +‘Why, it’s our wedding-day too,’ exclaimed the Carrier. + +‘Ha ha!’ laughed Tackleton. ‘Odd! You’re just such another couple. +Just!’ + +The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion is not to be +described. What next? His imagination would compass the possibility of +just such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad. + +‘I say! A word with you,’ murmured Tackleton, nudging the Carrier with +his elbow, and taking him a little apart. ‘You’ll come to the wedding? +We’re in the same boat, you know.’ + +‘How in the same boat?’ inquired the Carrier. + +‘A little disparity, you know,’ said Tackleton, with another nudge. +‘Come and spend an evening with us, beforehand.’ + +‘Why?’ demanded John, astonished at this pressing hospitality. + +‘Why?’ returned the other. ‘That’s a new way of receiving an invitation. +Why, for pleasure—sociability, you know, and all that!’ + +‘I thought you were never sociable,’ said John, in his plain way. + +‘Tchah! It’s of no use to be anything but free with you, I see,’ said +Tackleton. ‘Why, then, the truth is you have a—what tea-drinking people +call a sort of a comfortable appearance together, you and your wife. We +know better, you know, but—’ + +‘No, we don’t know better,’ interposed John. ‘What are you talking +about?’ + +‘Well! We _don’t_ know better, then,’ said Tackleton. ‘We’ll agree that +we don’t. As you like; what does it matter? I was going to say, as you +have that sort of appearance, your company will produce a favourable +effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will be. And, though I don’t think your +good lady’s very friendly to me, in this matter, still she can’t help +herself from falling into my views, for there’s a compactness and +cosiness of appearance about her that always tells, even in an +indifferent case. You’ll say you’ll come?’ + +‘We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as far as that goes) at home,’ +said John. ‘We have made the promise to ourselves these six months. We +think, you see, that home—’ + +‘Bah! what’s home?’ cried Tackleton. ‘Four walls and a ceiling! (why +don’t you kill that Cricket? _I_ would! I always do. I hate their +noise.) There are four walls and a ceiling at my house. Come to me!’ + +‘You kill your Crickets, eh?’ said John. + +‘Scrunch ’em, sir,’ returned the other, setting his heel heavily on the +floor. ‘You’ll say you’ll come? It’s as much your interest as mine, you +know, that the women should persuade each other that they’re quiet and +contented, and couldn’t be better off. I know their way. Whatever one +woman says, another woman is determined to clinch, always. There’s that +spirit of emulation among ’em, sir, that if your wife says to my wife, +“I’m the happiest woman in the world, and mine’s the best husband in the +world, and I dote on him,” my wife will say the same to yours, or more, +and half believe it.’ + +‘Do you mean to say she don’t, then?’ asked the Carrier. + +‘Don’t!’ cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp laugh. ‘Don’t what?’ + +The Carrier had some faint idea of adding, ‘dote upon you.’ But, +happening to meet the half-closed eye, as it twinkled upon him over the +turned-up collar of the cape, which was within an ace of poking it out, +he felt it such an unlikely part and parcel of anything to be doted on, +that he substituted, ‘that she don’t believe it?’ + +‘Ah you dog! You’re joking,’ said Tackleton. + +But the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of his meaning, +eyed him in such a serious manner, that he was obliged to be a little +more explanatory. + +‘I have the humour,’ said Tackleton: holding up the fingers of his left +hand, and tapping the forefinger, to imply ‘there I am, Tackleton to +wit:’ ‘I have the humour, sir, to marry a young wife, and a pretty wife:’ +here he rapped his little finger, to express the Bride; not sparingly, +but sharply; with a sense of power. ‘I’m able to gratify that humour and +I do. It’s my whim. But—now look there!’ + +He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, before the fire; +leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, and watching the bright blaze. +The Carrier looked at her, and then at him, and then at her, and then at +him again. + +‘She honours and obeys, no doubt, you know,’ said Tackleton; ‘and that, +as I am not a man of sentiment, is quite enough for _me_. But do you +think there’s anything more in it?’ + +‘I think,’ observed the Carrier, ‘that I should chuck any man out of +window, who said there wasn’t.’ + +‘Exactly so,’ returned the other with an unusual alacrity of assent. ‘To +be sure! Doubtless you would. Of course. I’m certain of it. Good +night. Pleasant dreams!’ + +The Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable and uncertain, in spite +of himself. He couldn’t help showing it, in his manner. + +‘Good night, my dear friend!’ said Tackleton, compassionately. ‘I’m off. +We’re exactly alike, in reality, I see. You won’t give us to-morrow +evening? Well! Next day you go out visiting, I know. I’ll meet you +there, and bring my wife that is to be. It’ll do her good. You’re +agreeable? Thank’ee. What’s that!’ + +It was a loud cry from the Carrier’s wife: a loud, sharp, sudden cry, +that made the room ring, like a glass vessel. She had risen from her +seat, and stood like one transfixed by terror and surprise. The Stranger +had advanced towards the fire to warm himself, and stood within a short +stride of her chair. But quite still. + +‘Dot!’ cried the Carrier. ‘Mary! Darling! What’s the matter?’ + +They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been dozing on the +cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his suspended presence of +mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head, but immediately +apologised. + +‘Mary!’ exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in his arms. ‘Are you ill! +What is it? Tell me, dear!’ + +She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling into a wild +fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp upon the ground, she +covered her face with her apron, and wept bitterly. And then she laughed +again, and then she cried again, and then she said how cold it was, and +suffered him to lead her to the fire, where she sat down as before. The +old man standing, as before, quite still. + +‘I’m better, John,’ she said. ‘I’m quite well now—I—’ + +‘John!’ But John was on the other side of her. Why turn her face +towards the strange old gentleman, as if addressing him! Was her brain +wandering? + +‘Only a fancy, John dear—a kind of shock—a something coming suddenly +before my eyes—I don’t know what it was. It’s quite gone, quite gone.’ + +‘I’m glad it’s gone,’ muttered Tackleton, turning the expressive eye all +round the room. ‘I wonder where it’s gone, and what it was. Humph! +Caleb, come here! Who’s that with the grey hair?’ + +‘I don’t know, sir,’ returned Caleb in a whisper. ‘Never see him before, +in all my life. A beautiful figure for a nut-cracker; quite a new model. +With a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he’d be lovely.’ + +‘Not ugly enough,’ said Tackleton. + +‘Or for a firebox, either,’ observed Caleb, in deep contemplation, ‘what +a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him heels up’ards +for the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman’s mantel-shelf, just as +he stands!’ + +‘Not half ugly enough,’ said Tackleton. ‘Nothing in him at all! Come! +Bring that box! All right now, I hope?’ + +‘Oh quite gone! Quite gone!’ said the little woman, waving him hurriedly +away. ‘Good night!’ + +‘Good night,’ said Tackleton. ‘Good night, John Peerybingle! Take care +how you carry that box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I’ll murder you! Dark +as pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good night!’ + +So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the door; +followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head. + +The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little wife, and so busily +engaged in soothing and tending her, that he had scarcely been conscious +of the Stranger’s presence, until now, when he again stood there, their +only guest. + +‘He don’t belong to them, you see,’ said John. ‘I must give him a hint +to go.’ + +‘I beg your pardon, friend,’ said the old gentleman, advancing to him; +‘the more so, as I fear your wife has not been well; but the Attendant +whom my infirmity,’ he touched his ears and shook his head, ‘renders +almost indispensable, not having arrived, I fear there must be some +mistake. The bad night which made the shelter of your comfortable cart +(may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, is still as bad as ever. +Would you, in your kindness, suffer me to rent a bed here?’ + +‘Yes, yes,’ cried Dot. ‘Yes! Certainly!’ + +‘Oh!’ said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this consent. + +‘Well! I don’t object; but, still I’m not quite sure that—’ + +‘Hush!’ she interrupted. ‘Dear John!’ + +‘Why, he’s stone deaf,’ urged John. + +‘I know he is, but—Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! certainly! I’ll make him +up a bed, directly, John.’ + +As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the +agitation of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier stood looking +after her, quite confounded. + +‘Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!’ cried Miss Slowboy to the Baby; +‘and did its hair grow brown and curly, when its caps was lifted off, and +frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires!’ + +With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, which is often +incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the Carrier as he walked +slowly to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even these absurd +words, many times. So many times that he got them by heart, and was +still conning them over and over, like a lesson, when Tilly, after +administering as much friction to the little bald head with her hand as +she thought wholesome (according to the practice of nurses), had once +more tied the Baby’s cap on. + +‘And frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires. What +frightened Dot, I wonder!’ mused the Carrier, pacing to and fro. + +He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the Toy-merchant, and yet +they filled him with a vague, indefinite uneasiness. For, Tackleton was +quick and sly; and he had that painful sense, himself, of being a man of slow +perception, that a broken hint was always worrying to him. He certainly +had no intention in his mind of linking anything that Tackleton had said, +with the unusual conduct of his wife, but the two subjects of reflection +came into his mind together, and he could not keep them asunder. + +The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, declining all refreshment +but a cup of tea, retired. Then, Dot—quite well again, she said, quite +well again—arranged the great chair in the chimney-corner for her +husband; filled his pipe and gave it him; and took her usual little stool +beside him on the hearth. + +She always _would_ sit on that little stool. I think she must have had a +kind of notion that it was a coaxing, wheedling little stool. + +She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I should say, in +the four quarters of the globe. To see her put that chubby little finger +in the bowl, and then blow down the pipe to clear the tube, and, when she +had done so, affect to think that there was really something in the tube, +and blow a dozen times, and hold it to her eye like a telescope, with a +most provoking twist in her capital little face, as she looked down it, +was quite a brilliant thing. As to the tobacco, she was perfect mistress +of the subject; and her lighting of the pipe, with a wisp of paper, when +the Carrier had it in his mouth—going so very near his nose, and yet not +scorching it—was Art, high Art. + +And the Cricket and the kettle, turning up again, acknowledged it! The +bright fire, blazing up again, acknowledged it! The little Mower on the +clock, in his unheeded work, acknowledged it! The Carrier, in his +smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged it, the readiest of +all. + +And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed at his old pipe, and as the +Dutch clock ticked, and as the red fire gleamed, and as the Cricket +chirped; that Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such the Cricket was) +came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and summoned many forms of Home +about him. Dots of all ages, and all sizes, filled the chamber. Dots +who were merry children, running on before him gathering flowers, in the +fields; coy Dots, half shrinking from, half yielding to, the pleading of +his own rough image; newly-married Dots, alighting at the door, and +taking wondering possession of the household keys; motherly little Dots, +attended by fictitious Slowboys, bearing babies to be christened; +matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching Dots of daughters, as +they danced at rustic balls; fat Dots, encircled and beset by troops of +rosy grandchildren; withered Dots, who leaned on sticks, and tottered as +they crept along. Old Carriers too, appeared, with blind old Boxers +lying at their feet; and newer carts with younger drivers (‘Peerybingle +Brothers’ on the tilt); and sick old Carriers, tended by the gentlest +hands; and graves of dead and gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. +And as the Cricket showed him all these things—he saw them plainly, +though his eyes were fixed upon the fire—the Carrier’s heart grew light +and happy, and he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, and +cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than you do. + + * * * * * + +But, what was that young figure of a man, which the same Fairy Cricket +set so near Her stool, and which remained there, singly and alone? Why +did it linger still, so near her, with its arm upon the chimney-piece, +ever repeating ‘Married! and not to me!’ + +O Dot! O failing Dot! There is no place for it in all your husband’s +visions; why has its shadow fallen on his hearth! + + + + +CHAPTER II—Chirp the Second + + +Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by themselves, as +the Story-books say—and my blessing, with yours to back it I hope, on the +Story-books, for saying anything in this workaday world!—Caleb Plummer +and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by themselves, in a little cracked +nutshell of a wooden house, which was, in truth, no better than a pimple +on the prominent red-brick nose of Gruff and Tackleton. The premises of +Gruff and Tackleton were the great feature of the street; but you might +have knocked down Caleb Plummer’s dwelling with a hammer or two, and +carried off the pieces in a cart. + +If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb Plummer the honour to +miss it after such an inroad, it would have been, no doubt, to commend +its demolition as a vast improvement. It stuck to the premises of Gruff +and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship’s keel, or a snail to a door, or +a little bunch of toadstools to the stem of a tree. + +But, it was the germ from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff and +Tackleton had sprung; and, under its crazy roof, the Gruff before last, +had, in a small way, made toys for a generation of old boys and girls, +who had played with them, and found them out, and broken them, and gone +to sleep. + +I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter lived here. I should +have said that Caleb lived here, and his poor Blind Daughter somewhere +else—in an enchanted home of Caleb’s furnishing, where scarcity and +shabbiness were not, and trouble never entered. Caleb was no sorcerer, +but in the only magic art that still remains to us, the magic of devoted, +deathless love, Nature had been the mistress of his study; and from her +teaching, all the wonder came. + +The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discoloured, walls blotched +and bare of plaster here and there, high crevices unstopped and widening +every day, beams mouldering and tending downward. The Blind Girl never +knew that iron was rusting, wood rotting, paper peeling off; the size, +and shape, and true proportion of the dwelling, withering away. The +Blind Girl never knew that ugly shapes of delf and earthenware were on +the board; that sorrow and faintheartedness were in the house; that +Caleb’s scanty hairs were turning greyer and more grey, before her +sightless face. The Blind Girl never knew they had a master, cold, +exacting, and uninterested—never knew that Tackleton was Tackleton in +short; but lived in the belief of an eccentric humourist who loved to +have his jest with them, and who, while he was the Guardian Angel of +their lives, disdained to hear one word of thankfulness. + +And all was Caleb’s doing; all the doing of her simple father! But he +too had a Cricket on his Hearth; and listening sadly to its music when +the motherless Blind Child was very young, that Spirit had inspired him +with the thought that even her great deprivation might be almost changed +into a blessing, and the girl made happy by these little means. For all +the Cricket tribe are potent Spirits, even though the people who hold +converse with them do not know it (which is frequently the case); and +there are not in the unseen world, voices more gentle and more true, that +may be so implicitly relied on, or that are so certain to give none but +tenderest counsel, as the Voices in which the Spirits of the Fireside and +the Hearth address themselves to human kind. + +Caleb and his daughter were at work together in their usual working-room, +which served them for their ordinary living-room as well; and a strange +place it was. There were houses in it, finished and unfinished, for +Dolls of all stations in life. Suburban tenements for Dolls of moderate +means; kitchens and single apartments for Dolls of the lower classes; +capital town residences for Dolls of high estate. Some of these +establishments were already furnished according to estimate, with a view +to the convenience of Dolls of limited income; others could be fitted on +the most expensive scale, at a moment’s notice, from whole shelves of +chairs and tables, sofas, bedsteads, and upholstery. The nobility and +gentry, and public in general, for whose accommodation these tenements +were designed, lay, here and there, in baskets, staring straight up at +the ceiling; but, in denoting their degrees in society, and confining +them to their respective stations (which experience shows to be +lamentably difficult in real life), the makers of these Dolls had far +improved on Nature, who is often froward and perverse; for, they, not +resting on such arbitrary marks as satin, cotton-print, and bits of rag, +had superadded striking personal differences which allowed of no mistake. +Thus, the Doll-lady of distinction had wax limbs of perfect symmetry; but +only she and her compeers. The next grade in the social scale being made +of leather, and the next of coarse linen stuff. As to the common-people, +they had just so many matches out of tinder-boxes, for their arms and +legs, and there they were—established in their sphere at once, beyond the +possibility of getting out of it. + +There were various other samples of his handicraft, besides Dolls, in +Caleb Plummer’s room. There were Noah’s Arks, in which the Birds and +Beasts were an uncommonly tight fit, I assure you; though they could be +crammed in, anyhow, at the roof, and rattled and shaken into the smallest +compass. By a bold poetical licence, most of these Noah’s Arks had +knockers on the doors; inconsistent appendages, perhaps, as suggestive of +morning callers and a Postman, yet a pleasant finish to the outside of +the building. There were scores of melancholy little carts, which, when +the wheels went round, performed most doleful music. Many small fiddles, +drums, and other instruments of torture; no end of cannon, shields, +swords, spears, and guns. There were little tumblers in red breeches, +incessantly swarming up high obstacles of red-tape, and coming down, head +first, on the other side; and there were innumerable old gentlemen of +respectable, not to say venerable, appearance, insanely flying over +horizontal pegs, inserted, for the purpose, in their own street doors. +There were beasts of all sorts; horses, in particular, of every breed, +from the spotted barrel on four pegs, with a small tippet for a mane, to +the thoroughbred rocker on his highest mettle. As it would have been +hard to count the dozens upon dozens of grotesque figures that were ever +ready to commit all sorts of absurdities on the turning of a handle, so +it would have been no easy task to mention any human folly, vice, or +weakness, that had not its type, immediate or remote, in Caleb Plummer’s +room. And not in an exaggerated form, for very little handles will move +men and women to as strange performances, as any Toy was ever made to +undertake. + +In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his daughter sat at work. +The Blind Girl busy as a Doll’s dressmaker; Caleb painting and glazing +the four-pair front of a desirable family mansion. + +The care imprinted in the lines of Caleb’s face, and his absorbed and +dreamy manner, which would have sat well on some alchemist or abstruse +student, were at first sight an odd contrast to his occupation, and the +trivialities about him. But, trivial things, invented and pursued for +bread, become very serious matters of fact; and, apart from this +consideration, I am not at all prepared to say, myself, that if Caleb had +been a Lord Chamberlain, or a Member of Parliament, or a lawyer, or even +a great speculator, he would have dealt in toys one whit less whimsical, +while I have a very great doubt whether they would have been as harmless. + +‘So you were out in the rain last night, father, in your beautiful new +great-coat,’ said Caleb’s daughter. + +‘In my beautiful new great-coat,’ answered Caleb, glancing towards a +clothes-line in the room, on which the sack-cloth garment previously +described, was carefully hung up to dry. + +‘How glad I am you bought it, father!’ + +‘And of such a tailor, too,’ said Caleb. ‘Quite a fashionable tailor. +It’s too good for me.’ + +The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed with delight. + +‘Too good, father! What can be too good for you?’ + +‘I’m half-ashamed to wear it though,’ said Caleb, watching the effect of +what he said, upon her brightening face; ‘upon my word! When I hear the +boys and people say behind me, “Hal-loa! Here’s a swell!” I don’t know +which way to look. And when the beggar wouldn’t go away last night; and +when I said I was a very common man, said “No, your Honour! Bless your +Honour, don’t say that!” I was quite ashamed. I really felt as if I +hadn’t a right to wear it.’ + +Happy Blind Girl! How merry she was, in her exultation! + +‘I see you, father,’ she said, clasping her hands, ‘as plainly, as if I +had the eyes I never want when you are with me. A blue coat—’ + +‘Bright blue,’ said Caleb. + +‘Yes, yes! Bright blue!’ exclaimed the girl, turning up her radiant +face; ‘the colour I can just remember in the blessed sky! You told me it +was blue before! A bright blue coat—’ + +‘Made loose to the figure,’ suggested Caleb. + +‘Made loose to the figure!’ cried the Blind Girl, laughing heartily; ‘and +in it, you, dear father, with your merry eye, your smiling face, your +free step, and your dark hair—looking so young and handsome!’ + +‘Halloa! Halloa!’ said Caleb. ‘I shall be vain, presently!’ + +‘I think you are, already,’ cried the Blind Girl, pointing at him, in her +glee. ‘I know you, father! Ha, ha, ha! I’ve found you out, you see!’ + +How different the picture in her mind, from Caleb, as he sat observing +her! She had spoken of his free step. She was right in that. For years +and years, he had never once crossed that threshold at his own slow pace, +but with a footfall counterfeited for her ear; and never had he, when his +heart was heaviest, forgotten the light tread that was to render hers so +cheerful and courageous! + +Heaven knows! But I think Caleb’s vague bewilderment of manner may have +half originated in his having confused himself about himself and +everything around him, for the love of his Blind Daughter. How could the +little man be otherwise than bewildered, after labouring for so many +years to destroy his own identity, and that of all the objects that had +any bearing on it! + +‘There we are,’ said Caleb, falling back a pace or two to form the better +judgment of his work; ‘as near the real thing as sixpenn’orth of +halfpence is to sixpence. What a pity that the whole front of the house +opens at once! If there was only a staircase in it, now, and regular +doors to the rooms to go in at! But that’s the worst of my calling, I’m +always deluding myself, and swindling myself.’ + +‘You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired, father?’ + +‘Tired!’ echoed Caleb, with a great burst of animation, ‘what should tire +me, Bertha? _I_ was never tired. What does it mean?’ + +To give the greater force to his words, he checked himself in an +involuntary imitation of two half-length stretching and yawning figures +on the mantel-shelf, who were represented as in one eternal state of +weariness from the waist upwards; and hummed a fragment of a song. It +was a Bacchanalian song, something about a Sparkling Bowl. He sang it +with an assumption of a Devil-may-care voice, that made his face a +thousand times more meagre and more thoughtful than ever. + +‘What! You’re singing, are you?’ said Tackleton, putting his head in at +the door. ‘Go it! _I_ can’t sing.’ + +Nobody would have suspected him of it. He hadn’t what is generally +termed a singing face, by any means. + +‘I can’t afford to sing,’ said Tackleton. ‘I’m glad _you can_. I hope +you can afford to work too. Hardly time for both, I should think?’ + +‘If you could only see him, Bertha, how he’s winking at me!’ whispered +Caleb. ‘Such a man to joke! you’d think, if you didn’t know him, he was +in earnest—wouldn’t you now?’ + +The Blind Girl smiled and nodded. + +‘The bird that can sing and won’t sing, must be made to sing, they say,’ +grumbled Tackleton. ‘What about the owl that can’t sing, and oughtn’t to +sing, and will sing; is there anything that _he_ should be made to do?’ + +‘The extent to which he’s winking at this moment!’ whispered Caleb to his +daughter. ‘O, my gracious!’ + +‘Always merry and light-hearted with us!’ cried the smiling Bertha. + +‘O, you’re there, are you?’ answered Tackleton. ‘Poor Idiot!’ + +He really did believe she was an Idiot; and he founded the belief, I +can’t say whether consciously or not, upon her being fond of him. + +‘Well! and being there,—how are you?’ said Tackleton, in his grudging +way. + +‘Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even you can wish me to be. As +happy as you would make the whole world, if you could!’ + +‘Poor Idiot!’ muttered Tackleton. ‘No gleam of reason. Not a gleam!’ + +The Blind Girl took his hand and kissed it; held it for a moment in her +own two hands; and laid her cheek against it tenderly, before releasing +it. There was such unspeakable affection and such fervent gratitude in +the act, that Tackleton himself was moved to say, in a milder growl than +usual: + +‘What’s the matter now?’ + +‘I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to sleep last night, and +remembered it in my dreams. And when the day broke, and the glorious red +sun—the _red_ sun, father?’ + +‘Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha,’ said poor Caleb, with a +woeful glance at his employer. + +‘When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear to strike myself +against in walking, came into the room, I turned the little tree towards +it, and blessed Heaven for making things so precious, and blessed you for +sending them to cheer me!’ + +‘Bedlam broke loose!’ said Tackleton under his breath. ‘We shall arrive +at the strait-waistcoat and mufflers soon. We’re getting on!’ + +Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, stared vacantly +before him while his daughter spoke, as if he really were uncertain (I +believe he was) whether Tackleton had done anything to deserve her +thanks, or not. If he could have been a perfectly free agent, at that +moment, required, on pain of death, to kick the Toy-merchant, or fall at +his feet, according to his merits, I believe it would have been an even +chance which course he would have taken. Yet, Caleb knew that with his +own hands he had brought the little rose-tree home for her, so carefully, +and that with his own lips he had forged the innocent deception which +should help to keep her from suspecting how much, how very much, he every +day, denied himself, that she might be the happier. + +‘Bertha!’ said Tackleton, assuming, for the nonce, a little cordiality. +‘Come here.’ + +‘Oh! I can come straight to you! You needn’t guide me!’ she rejoined. + +‘Shall I tell you a secret, Bertha?’ + +‘If you will!’ she answered, eagerly. + +How bright the darkened face! How adorned with light, the listening +head! + +‘This is the day on which little what’s-her-name, the spoilt child, +Peerybingle’s wife, pays her regular visit to you—makes her fantastic +Pic-Nic here; an’t it?’ said Tackleton, with a strong expression of +distaste for the whole concern. + +‘Yes,’ replied Bertha. ‘This is the day.’ + +‘I thought so,’ said Tackleton. ‘I should like to join the party.’ + +‘Do you hear that, father!’ cried the Blind Girl in an ecstasy. + +‘Yes, yes, I hear it,’ murmured Caleb, with the fixed look of a +sleep-walker; ‘but I don’t believe it. It’s one of my lies, I’ve no +doubt.’ + +‘You see I—I want to bring the Peerybingles a little more into company +with May Fielding,’ said Tackleton. ‘I am going to be married to May.’ + +‘Married!’ cried the Blind Girl, starting from him. + +‘She’s such a con-founded Idiot,’ muttered Tackleton, ‘that I was afraid +she’d never comprehend me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, parson, clerk, +beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, favours, marrow-bones, +cleavers, and all the rest of the tom-foolery. A wedding, you know; a +wedding. Don’t you know what a wedding is?’ + +‘I know,’ replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle tone. ‘I understand!’ + +‘Do you?’ muttered Tackleton. ‘It’s more than I expected. Well! On +that account I want to join the party, and to bring May and her mother. +I’ll send in a little something or other, before the afternoon. A cold +leg of mutton, or some comfortable trifle of that sort. You’ll expect +me?’ + +‘Yes,’ she answered. + +She had drooped her head, and turned away; and so stood, with her hands +crossed, musing. + +‘I don’t think you will,’ muttered Tackleton, looking at her; ‘for you +seem to have forgotten all about it, already. Caleb!’ + +‘I may venture to say I’m here, I suppose,’ thought Caleb. ‘Sir!’ + +‘Take care she don’t forget what I’ve been saying to her.’ + +‘_She_ never forgets,’ returned Caleb. ‘It’s one of the few things she +an’t clever in.’ + +‘Every man thinks his own geese swans,’ observed the Toy-merchant, with a +shrug. ‘Poor devil!’ + +Having delivered himself of which remark, with infinite contempt, old +Gruff and Tackleton withdrew. + +Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in meditation. The gaiety +had vanished from her downcast face, and it was very sad. Three or four +times she shook her head, as if bewailing some remembrance or some loss; +but her sorrowful reflections found no vent in words. + +It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some time, in yoking a team of +horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing the harness to the +vital parts of their bodies, that she drew near to his working-stool, and +sitting down beside him, said: + +‘Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes, my patient, willing +eyes.’ + +‘Here they are,’ said Caleb. ‘Always ready. They are more yours than +mine, Bertha, any hour in the four-and-twenty. What shall your eyes do +for you, dear?’ + +‘Look round the room, father.’ + +‘All right,’ said Caleb. ‘No sooner said than done, Bertha.’ + +‘Tell me about it.’ + +‘It’s much the same as usual,’ said Caleb. ‘Homely, but very snug. The +gay colours on the walls; the bright flowers on the plates and dishes; +the shining wood, where there are beams or panels; the general +cheerfulness and neatness of the building; make it very pretty.’ + +Cheerful and neat it was wherever Bertha’s hands could busy themselves. +But nowhere else, were cheerfulness and neatness possible, in the old +crazy shed which Caleb’s fancy so transformed. + +‘You have your working dress on, and are not so gallant as when you wear +the handsome coat?’ said Bertha, touching him. + +‘Not quite so gallant,’ answered Caleb. ‘Pretty brisk though.’ + +‘Father,’ said the Blind Girl, drawing close to his side, and stealing +one arm round his neck, ‘tell me something about May. She is very fair?’ + +‘She is indeed,’ said Caleb. And she was indeed. It was quite a rare +thing to Caleb, not to have to draw on his invention. + +‘Her hair is dark,’ said Bertha, pensively, ‘darker than mine. Her voice +is sweet and musical, I know. I have often loved to hear it. Her +shape—’ + +‘There’s not a Doll’s in all the room to equal it,’ said Caleb. ‘And her +eyes!—’ + +He stopped; for Bertha had drawn closer round his neck, and from the arm +that clung about him, came a warning pressure which he understood too +well. + +He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, and then fell back upon the +song about the sparkling bowl; his infallible resource in all such +difficulties. + +‘Our friend, father, our benefactor. I am never tired, you know, of +hearing about him.—Now, was I ever?’ she said, hastily. + +‘Of course not,’ answered Caleb, ‘and with reason.’ + +‘Ah! With how much reason!’ cried the Blind Girl. With such fervency, +that Caleb, though his motives were so pure, could not endure to meet her +face; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have read in them his +innocent deceit. + +‘Then, tell me again about him, dear father,’ said Bertha. ‘Many times +again! His face is benevolent, kind, and tender. Honest and true, I am +sure it is. The manly heart that tries to cloak all favours with a show +of roughness and unwillingness, beats in its every look and glance.’ + +‘And makes it noble!’ added Caleb, in his quiet desperation. + +‘And makes it noble!’ cried the Blind Girl. ‘He is older than May, +father.’ + +‘Ye-es,’ said Caleb, reluctantly. ‘He’s a little older than May. But +that don’t signify.’ + +‘Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in infirmity and age; to be +his gentle nurse in sickness, and his constant friend in suffering and +sorrow; to know no weariness in working for his sake; to watch him, tend +him, sit beside his bed and talk to him awake, and pray for him asleep; +what privileges these would be! What opportunities for proving all her +truth and devotion to him! Would she do all this, dear father? + +‘No doubt of it,’ said Caleb. + +‘I love her, father; I can love her from my soul!’ exclaimed the Blind +Girl. And saying so, she laid her poor blind face on Caleb’s shoulder, +and so wept and wept, that he was almost sorry to have brought that +tearful happiness upon her. + +In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp commotion at John +Peerybingle’s, for little Mrs. Peerybingle naturally couldn’t think of +going anywhere without the Baby; and to get the Baby under weigh took +time. Not that there was much of the Baby, speaking of it as a thing of +weight and measure, but there was a vast deal to do about and about it, +and it all had to be done by easy stages. For instance, when the Baby +was got, by hook and by crook, to a certain point of dressing, and you +might have rationally supposed that another touch or two would finish him +off, and turn him out a tip-top Baby challenging the world, he was +unexpectedly extinguished in a flannel cap, and hustled off to bed; where +he simmered (so to speak) between two blankets for the best part of an +hour. From this state of inaction he was then recalled, shining very +much and roaring violently, to partake of—well? I would rather say, if +you’ll permit me to speak generally—of a slight repast. After which, he +went to sleep again. Mrs. Peerybingle took advantage of this interval, +to make herself as smart in a small way as ever you saw anybody in all +your life; and, during the same short truce, Miss Slowboy insinuated +herself into a spencer of a fashion so surprising and ingenious, that it +had no connection with herself, or anything else in the universe, but was +a shrunken, dog’s-eared, independent fact, pursuing its lonely course +without the least regard to anybody. By this time, the Baby, being all +alive again, was invested, by the united efforts of Mrs. Peerybingle and +Miss Slowboy, with a cream-coloured mantle for its body, and a sort of +nankeen raised-pie for its head; and so in course of time they all three +got down to the door, where the old horse had already taken more than the +full value of his day’s toll out of the Turnpike Trust, by tearing up the +road with his impatient autographs; and whence Boxer might be dimly seen +in the remote perspective, standing looking back, and tempting him to +come on without orders. + +As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping Mrs. Peerybingle into +the cart, you know very little of John, if you think _that_ was +necessary. Before you could have seen him lift her from the ground, +there she was in her place, fresh and rosy, saying, ‘John! How _can_ +you! Think of Tilly!’ + +If I might be allowed to mention a young lady’s legs, on any terms, I +would observe of Miss Slowboy’s that there was a fatality about them +which rendered them singularly liable to be grazed; and that she never +effected the smallest ascent or descent, without recording the +circumstance upon them with a notch, as Robinson Crusoe marked the days +upon his wooden calendar. But as this might be considered ungenteel, +I’ll think of it. + +‘John? You’ve got the Basket with the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and +the bottles of Beer?’ said Dot. ‘If you haven’t, you must turn round +again, this very minute.’ + +‘You’re a nice little article,’ returned the Carrier, ‘to be talking +about turning round, after keeping me a full quarter of an hour behind my +time.’ + +‘I am sorry for it, John,’ said Dot in a great bustle, ‘but I really +could not think of going to Bertha’s—I would not do it, John, on any +account—without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of Beer. +Way!’ + +This monosyllable was addressed to the horse, who didn’t mind it at all. + +‘Oh _do_ way, John!’ said Mrs. Peerybingle. ‘Please!’ + +‘It’ll be time enough to do that,’ returned John, ‘when I begin to leave +things behind me. The basket’s here, safe enough.’ + +‘What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, not to have said so, at +once, and save me such a turn! I declared I wouldn’t go to Bertha’s +without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of Beer, for any +money. Regularly once a fortnight ever since we have been married, John, +have we made our little Pic-Nic there. If anything was to go wrong with +it, I should almost think we were never to be lucky again.’ + +‘It was a kind thought in the first instance,’ said the Carrier: ‘and I +honour you for it, little woman.’ + +‘My dear John,’ replied Dot, turning very red, ‘don’t talk about +honouring _me_. Good Gracious!’ + +‘By the bye—’ observed the Carrier. ‘That old gentleman—’ + +Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed! + +‘He’s an odd fish,’ said the Carrier, looking straight along the road +before them. ‘I can’t make him out. I don’t believe there’s any harm in +him.’ + +‘None at all. I’m—I’m sure there’s none at all.’ + +‘Yes,’ said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted to her face by the great +earnestness of her manner. ‘I am glad you feel so certain of it, because +it’s a confirmation to me. It’s curious that he should have taken it +into his head to ask leave to go on lodging with us; an’t it? Things +come about so strangely.’ + +‘So very strangely,’ she rejoined in a low voice, scarcely audible. + +‘However, he’s a good-natured old gentleman,’ said John, ‘and pays as a +gentleman, and I think his word is to be relied upon, like a gentleman’s. +I had quite a long talk with him this morning: he can hear me better +already, he says, as he gets more used to my voice. He told me a great +deal about himself, and I told him a great deal about myself, and a rare +lot of questions he asked me. I gave him information about my having two +beats, you know, in my business; one day to the right from our house and +back again; another day to the left from our house and back again (for +he’s a stranger and don’t know the names of places about here); and he +seemed quite pleased. “Why, then I shall be returning home to-night your +way,” he says, “when I thought you’d be coming in an exactly opposite +direction. That’s capital! I may trouble you for another lift perhaps, +but I’ll engage not to fall so sound asleep again.” He _was_ sound +asleep, sure-ly!—Dot! what are you thinking of?’ + +‘Thinking of, John? I—I was listening to you.’ + +‘O! That’s all right!’ said the honest Carrier. ‘I was afraid, from the +look of your face, that I had gone rambling on so long, as to set you +thinking about something else. I was very near it, I’ll be bound.’ + +Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little time, in silence. +But, it was not easy to remain silent very long in John Peerybingle’s +cart, for everybody on the road had something to say. Though it might +only be ‘How are you!’ and indeed it was very often nothing else, still, +to give that back again in the right spirit of cordiality, required, not +merely a nod and a smile, but as wholesome an action of the lungs withal, +as a long-winded Parliamentary speech. Sometimes, passengers on foot, or +horseback, plodded on a little way beside the cart, for the express +purpose of having a chat; and then there was a great deal to be said, on +both sides. + +Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured recognitions of, and by, +the Carrier, than half-a-dozen Christians could have done! Everybody +knew him, all along the road—especially the fowls and pigs, who when they +saw him approaching, with his body all on one side, and his ears pricked +up inquisitively, and that knob of a tail making the most of itself in +the air, immediately withdrew into remote back settlements, without +waiting for the honour of a nearer acquaintance. He had business +everywhere; going down all the turnings, looking into all the wells, +bolting in and out of all the cottages, dashing into the midst of all the +Dame-Schools, fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying the tails of all the +cats, and trotting into the public-houses like a regular customer. +Wherever he went, somebody or other might have been heard to cry, +‘Halloa! Here’s Boxer!’ and out came that somebody forthwith, +accompanied by at least two or three other somebodies, to give John +Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day. + +The packages and parcels for the errand cart, were numerous; and there +were many stoppages to take them in and give them out, which were not by +any means the worst parts of the journey. Some people were so full of +expectation about their parcels, and other people were so full of wonder +about their parcels, and other people were so full of inexhaustible +directions about their parcels, and John had such a lively interest in +all the parcels, that it was as good as a play. Likewise, there were +articles to carry, which required to be considered and discussed, and in +reference to the adjustment and disposition of which, councils had to be +holden by the Carrier and the senders: at which Boxer usually assisted, +in short fits of the closest attention, and long fits of tearing round +and round the assembled sages and barking himself hoarse. Of all these +little incidents, Dot was the amused and open-eyed spectatress from her +chair in the cart; and as she sat there, looking on—a charming little +portrait framed to admiration by the tilt—there was no lack of nudgings +and glancings and whisperings and envyings among the younger men. And +this delighted John the Carrier, beyond measure; for he was proud to have +his little wife admired, knowing that she didn’t mind it—that, if +anything, she rather liked it perhaps. + +The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the January weather; and was +raw and cold. But who cared for such trifles? Not Dot, decidedly. Not +Tilly Slowboy, for she deemed sitting in a cart, on any terms, to be the +highest point of human joys; the crowning circumstance of earthly hopes. +Not the Baby, I’ll be sworn; for it’s not in Baby nature to be warmer or +more sound asleep, though its capacity is great in both respects, than +that blessed young Peerybingle was, all the way. + +You couldn’t see very far in the fog, of course; but you could see a +great deal! It’s astonishing how much you may see, in a thicker fog than +that, if you will only take the trouble to look for it. Why, even to sit +watching for the Fairy-rings in the fields, and for the patches of +hoar-frost still lingering in the shade, near hedges and by trees, was a +pleasant occupation: to make no mention of the unexpected shapes in which +the trees themselves came starting out of the mist, and glided into it +again. The hedges were tangled and bare, and waved a multitude of +blighted garlands in the wind; but there was no discouragement in this. +It was agreeable to contemplate; for it made the fireside warmer in +possession, and the summer greener in expectancy. The river looked +chilly; but it was in motion, and moving at a good pace—which was a great +point. The canal was rather slow and torpid; that must be admitted. +Never mind. It would freeze the sooner when the frost set fairly in, and +then there would be skating, and sliding; and the heavy old barges, +frozen up somewhere near a wharf, would smoke their rusty iron chimney +pipes all day, and have a lazy time of it. + +In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or stubble burning; and +they watched the fire, so white in the daytime, flaring through the fog, +with only here and there a dash of red in it, until, in consequence, as +she observed, of the smoke ‘getting up her nose,’ Miss Slowboy choked—she +could do anything of that sort, on the smallest provocation—and woke the +Baby, who wouldn’t go to sleep again. But, Boxer, who was in advance +some quarter of a mile or so, had already passed the outposts of the +town, and gained the corner of the street where Caleb and his daughter +lived; and long before they had reached the door, he and the Blind Girl +were on the pavement waiting to receive them. + +Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions of his own, in his +communication with Bertha, which persuade me fully that he knew her to be +blind. He never sought to attract her attention by looking at her, as he +often did with other people, but touched her invariably. What experience +he could ever have had of blind people or blind dogs, I don’t know. He +had never lived with a blind master; nor had Mr. Boxer the elder, nor +Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his respectable family on either side, ever been +visited with blindness, that I am aware of. He may have found it out for +himself, perhaps, but he had got hold of it somehow; and therefore he had +hold of Bertha too, by the skirt, and kept hold, until Mrs. Peerybingle +and the Baby, and Miss Slowboy, and the basket, were all got safely +within doors. + +May Fielding was already come; and so was her mother—a little querulous +chip of an old lady with a peevish face, who, in right of having +preserved a waist like a bedpost, was supposed to be a most transcendent +figure; and who, in consequence of having once been better off, or of +labouring under an impression that she might have been, if something had +happened which never did happen, and seemed to have never been +particularly likely to come to pass—but it’s all the same—was very +genteel and patronising indeed. Gruff and Tackleton was also there, +doing the agreeable, with the evident sensation of being as perfectly at +home, and as unquestionably in his own element, as a fresh young salmon +on the top of the Great Pyramid. + +‘May! My dear old friend!’ cried Dot, running up to meet her. ‘What a +happiness to see you.’ + +Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad as she; and it +really was, if you’ll believe me, quite a pleasant sight to see them +embrace. Tackleton was a man of taste beyond all question. May was very +pretty. + +You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty face, how, when it +comes into contact and comparison with another pretty face, it seems for +the moment to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve the high opinion +you have had of it. Now, this was not at all the case, either with Dot +or May; for May’s face set off Dot’s, and Dot’s face set off May’s, so +naturally and agreeably, that, as John Peerybingle was very near saying +when he came into the room, they ought to have been born sisters—which +was the only improvement you could have suggested. + +Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, wonderful to relate, a tart +besides—but we don’t mind a little dissipation when our brides are in the +case; we don’t get married every day—and in addition to these dainties, +there were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and ‘things,’ as Mrs. Peerybingle called +them; which were chiefly nuts and oranges, and cakes, and such small +deer. When the repast was set forth on the board, flanked by Caleb’s +contribution, which was a great wooden bowl of smoking potatoes (he was +prohibited, by solemn compact, from producing any other viands), +Tackleton led his intended mother-in-law to the post of honour. For the +better gracing of this place at the high festival, the majestic old soul +had adorned herself with a cap, calculated to inspire the thoughtless +with sentiments of awe. She also wore her gloves. But let us be +genteel, or die! + +Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old schoolfellow were side by +side; the good Carrier took care of the bottom of the table. Miss +Slowboy was isolated, for the time being, from every article of furniture +but the chair she sat on, that she might have nothing else to knock the +Baby’s head against. + +As Tilly stared about her at the dolls and toys, they stared at her and +at the company. The venerable old gentlemen at the street doors (who +were all in full action) showed especial interest in the party, pausing +occasionally before leaping, as if they were listening to the +conversation, and then plunging wildly over and over, a great many times, +without halting for breath—as in a frantic state of delight with the +whole proceedings. + +Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to have a fiendish joy in +the contemplation of Tackleton’s discomfiture, they had good reason to be +satisfied. Tackleton couldn’t get on at all; and the more cheerful his +intended bride became in Dot’s society, the less he liked it, though he +had brought them together for that purpose. For he was a regular dog in +the manger, was Tackleton; and when they laughed and he couldn’t, he took +it into his head, immediately, that they must be laughing at him. + +‘Ah, May!’ said Dot. ‘Dear dear, what changes! To talk of those merry +school-days makes one young again.’ + +‘Why, you an’t particularly old, at any time; are you?’ said Tackleton. + +‘Look at my sober plodding husband there,’ returned Dot. ‘He adds twenty +years to my age at least. Don’t you, John?’ + +‘Forty,’ John replied. + +‘How many _you_’ll add to May’s, I am sure I don’t know,’ said Dot, +laughing. ‘But she can’t be much less than a hundred years of age on her +next birthday.’ + +‘Ha ha!’ laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a drum, that laugh though. And he +looked as if he could have twisted Dot’s neck, comfortably. + +‘Dear dear!’ said Dot. ‘Only to remember how we used to talk, at school, +about the husbands we would choose. I don’t know how young, and how +handsome, and how gay, and how lively, mine was not to be! And as to +May’s!—Ah dear! I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, when I think what +silly girls we were.’ + +May seemed to know which to do; for the colour flushed into her face, and +tears stood in her eyes. + +‘Even the very persons themselves—real live young men—were fixed on +sometimes,’ said Dot. ‘We little thought how things would come about. I +never fixed on John I’m sure; I never so much as thought of him. And if +I had told you, you were ever to be married to Mr. Tackleton, why you’d +have slapped me. Wouldn’t you, May?’ + +Though May didn’t say yes, she certainly didn’t say no, or express no, by +any means. + +Tackleton laughed—quite shouted, he laughed so loud. John Peerybingle +laughed too, in his ordinary good-natured and contented manner; but his +was a mere whisper of a laugh, to Tackleton’s. + +‘You couldn’t help yourselves, for all that. You couldn’t resist us, you +see,’ said Tackleton. ‘Here we are! Here we are!’ + +‘Where are your gay young bridegrooms now!’ + +‘Some of them are dead,’ said Dot; ‘and some of them forgotten. Some of +them, if they could stand among us at this moment, would not believe we +were the same creatures; would not believe that what they saw and heard +was real, and we _could_ forget them so. No! they would not believe one +word of it!’ + +‘Why, Dot!’ exclaimed the Carrier. ‘Little woman!’ + +She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, that she stood in need of +some recalling to herself, without doubt. Her husband’s check was very +gentle, for he merely interfered, as he supposed, to shield old +Tackleton; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, and said no more. +There was an uncommon agitation, even in her silence, which the wary +Tackleton, who had brought his half-shut eye to bear upon her, noted +closely, and remembered to some purpose too. + +May uttered no word, good or bad, but sat quite still, with her eyes cast +down, and made no sign of interest in what had passed. The good lady her +mother now interposed, observing, in the first instance, that girls were +girls, and byegones byegones, and that so long as young people were young +and thoughtless, they would probably conduct themselves like young and +thoughtless persons: with two or three other positions of a no less sound +and incontrovertible character. She then remarked, in a devout spirit, +that she thanked Heaven she had always found in her daughter May, a +dutiful and obedient child; for which she took no credit to herself, +though she had every reason to believe it was entirely owing to herself. +With regard to Mr. Tackleton she said, That he was in a moral point of +view an undeniable individual, and That he was in an eligible point of +view a son-in-law to be desired, no one in their senses could doubt. +(She was very emphatic here.) With regard to the family into which he +was so soon about, after some solicitation, to be admitted, she believed +Mr. Tackleton knew that, although reduced in purse, it had some +pretensions to gentility; and if certain circumstances, not wholly +unconnected, she would go so far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to +which she would not more particularly refer, had happened differently, it +might perhaps have been in possession of wealth. She then remarked that +she would not allude to the past, and would not mention that her daughter +had for some time rejected the suit of Mr. Tackleton; and that she would +not say a great many other things which she did say, at great length. +Finally, she delivered it as the general result of her observation and +experience, that those marriages in which there was least of what was +romantically and sillily called love, were always the happiest; and that +she anticipated the greatest possible amount of bliss—not rapturous +bliss; but the solid, steady-going article—from the approaching nuptials. +She concluded by informing the company that to-morrow was the day she had +lived for, expressly; and that when it was over, she would desire nothing +better than to be packed up and disposed of, in any genteel place of +burial. + +As these remarks were quite unanswerable—which is the happy property of +all remarks that are sufficiently wide of the purpose—they changed the +current of the conversation, and diverted the general attention to the +Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold mutton, the potatoes, and the tart. In order +that the bottled beer might not be slighted, John Peerybingle proposed +To-morrow: the Wedding-Day; and called upon them to drink a bumper to it, +before he proceeded on his journey. + +For you ought to know that he only rested there, and gave the old horse a +bait. He had to go some four or five miles farther on; and when he +returned in the evening, he called for Dot, and took another rest on his +way home. This was the order of the day on all the Pic-Nic occasions, +had been, ever since their institution. + +There were two persons present, besides the bride and bridegroom elect, +who did but indifferent honour to the toast. One of these was Dot, too +flushed and discomposed to adapt herself to any small occurrence of the +moment; the other, Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, before the rest, and +left the table. + +‘Good bye!’ said stout John Peerybingle, pulling on his dreadnought coat. +‘I shall be back at the old time. Good bye all!’ + +‘Good bye, John,’ returned Caleb. + +He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand in the same unconscious +manner; for he stood observing Bertha with an anxious wondering face, +that never altered its expression. + +‘Good bye, young shaver!’ said the jolly Carrier, bending down to kiss +the child; which Tilly Slowboy, now intent upon her knife and fork, had +deposited asleep (and strange to say, without damage) in a little cot of +Bertha’s furnishing; ‘good bye! Time will come, I suppose, when _you’ll_ +turn out into the cold, my little friend, and leave your old father to +enjoy his pipe and his rheumatics in the chimney-corner; eh? Where’s +Dot?’ + +‘I’m here, John!’ she said, starting. + +‘Come, come!’ returned the Carrier, clapping his sounding hands. +‘Where’s the pipe?’ + +‘I quite forgot the pipe, John.’ + +Forgot the pipe! Was such a wonder ever heard of! She! Forgot the +pipe! + +‘I’ll—I’ll fill it directly. It’s soon done.’ + +But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the usual place—the +Carrier’s dreadnought pocket—with the little pouch, her own work, from +which she was used to fill it, but her hand shook so, that she entangled +it (and yet her hand was small enough to have come out easily, I am +sure), and bungled terribly. The filling of the pipe and lighting it, +those little offices in which I have commended her discretion, were +vilely done, from first to last. During the whole process, Tackleton +stood looking on maliciously with the half-closed eye; which, whenever it +met hers—or caught it, for it can hardly be said to have ever met another +eye: rather being a kind of trap to snatch it up—augmented her confusion +in a most remarkable degree. + +‘Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!’ said John. ‘I could +have done it better myself, I verily believe!’ + +With these good-natured words, he strode away, and presently was heard, +in company with Boxer, and the old horse, and the cart, making lively +music down the road. What time the dreamy Caleb still stood, watching +his blind daughter, with the same expression on his face. + +‘Bertha!’ said Caleb, softly. ‘What has happened? How changed you are, +my darling, in a few hours—since this morning. _You_ silent and dull all +day! What is it? Tell me!’ + +‘Oh father, father!’ cried the Blind Girl, bursting into tears. ‘Oh my +hard, hard fate!’ + +Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered her. + +‘But think how cheerful and how happy you have been, Bertha! How good, +and how much loved, by many people.’ + +‘That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always so mindful of me! +Always so kind to me!’ + +Caleb was very much perplexed to understand her. + +‘To be—to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear,’ he faltered, ‘is a great +affliction; but—’ + +‘I have never felt it!’ cried the Blind Girl. ‘I have never felt it, in +its fulness. Never! I have sometimes wished that I could see you, or +could see him—only once, dear father, only for one little minute—that I +might know what it is I treasure up,’ she laid her hands upon her breast, +‘and hold here! That I might be sure and have it right! And sometimes +(but then I was a child) I have wept in my prayers at night, to think +that when your images ascended from my heart to Heaven, they might not be +the true resemblance of yourselves. But I have never had these feelings +long. They have passed away and left me tranquil and contented.’ + +‘And they will again,’ said Caleb. + +‘But, father! Oh my good, gentle father, bear with me, if I am wicked!’ +said the Blind Girl. ‘This is not the sorrow that so weighs me down!’ + +Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes overflow; she was so +earnest and pathetic, but he did not understand her, yet. + +‘Bring her to me,’ said Bertha. ‘I cannot hold it closed and shut within +myself. Bring her to me, father!’ + +She knew he hesitated, and said, ‘May. Bring May!’ + +May heard the mention of her name, and coming quietly towards her, +touched her on the arm. The Blind Girl turned immediately, and held her +by both hands. + +‘Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!’ said Bertha. ‘Read it with +your beautiful eyes, and tell me if the truth is written on it.’ + +‘Dear Bertha, Yes!’ + +The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless face, down which the +tears were coursing fast, addressed her in these words: + +‘There is not, in my soul, a wish or thought that is not for your good, +bright May! There is not, in my soul, a grateful recollection stronger +than the deep remembrance which is stored there, of the many many times +when, in the full pride of sight and beauty, you have had consideration +for Blind Bertha, even when we two were children, or when Bertha was as +much a child as ever blindness can be! Every blessing on your head! +Light upon your happy course! Not the less, my dear May;’ and she drew +towards her, in a closer grasp; ‘not the less, my bird, because, to-day, +the knowledge that you are to be His wife has wrung my heart almost to +breaking! Father, May, Mary! oh forgive me that it is so, for the sake +of all he has done to relieve the weariness of my dark life: and for the +sake of the belief you have in me, when I call Heaven to witness that I +could not wish him married to a wife more worthy of his goodness!’ + +While speaking, she had released May Fielding’s hands, and clasped her +garments in an attitude of mingled supplication and love. Sinking lower +and lower down, as she proceeded in her strange confession, she dropped +at last at the feet of her friend, and hid her blind face in the folds of +her dress. + +‘Great Power!’ exclaimed her father, smitten at one blow with the truth, +‘have I deceived her from her cradle, but to break her heart at last!’ + +It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, useful, busy little +Dot—for such she was, whatever faults she had, and however you may learn +to hate her, in good time—it was well for all of them, I say, that she +was there: or where this would have ended, it were hard to tell. But +Dot, recovering her self-possession, interposed, before May could reply, +or Caleb say another word. + +‘Come, come, dear Bertha! come away with me! Give her your arm, May. +So! How composed she is, you see, already; and how good it is of her to +mind us,’ said the cheery little woman, kissing her upon the forehead. +‘Come away, dear Bertha. Come! and here’s her good father will come with +her; won’t you, Caleb? To—be—sure!’ + +Well, well! she was a noble little Dot in such things, and it must have +been an obdurate nature that could have withstood her influence. When +she had got poor Caleb and his Bertha away, that they might comfort and +console each other, as she knew they only could, she presently came +bouncing back,—the saying is, as fresh as any daisy; I say fresher—to +mount guard over that bridling little piece of consequence in the cap and +gloves, and prevent the dear old creature from making discoveries. + +‘So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly,’ said she, drawing a chair to the +fire; ‘and while I have it in my lap, here’s Mrs. Fielding, Tilly, will +tell me all about the management of Babies, and put me right in twenty +points where I’m as wrong as can be. Won’t you, Mrs. Fielding?’ + +Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the popular expression, was +so ‘slow’ as to perform a fatal surgical operation upon himself, in +emulation of a juggling-trick achieved by his arch-enemy at +breakfast-time; not even he fell half so readily into the snare prepared +for him, as the old lady did into this artful pitfall. The fact of +Tackleton having walked out; and furthermore, of two or three people +having been talking together at a distance, for two minutes, leaving her +to her own resources; was quite enough to have put her on her dignity, +and the bewailment of that mysterious convulsion in the Indigo trade, for +four-and-twenty hours. But this becoming deference to her experience, on +the part of the young mother, was so irresistible, that after a short +affectation of humility, she began to enlighten her with the best grace +in the world; and sitting bolt upright before the wicked Dot, she did, in +half an hour, deliver more infallible domestic recipes and precepts, than +would (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and done up that Young +Peerybingle, though he had been an Infant Samson. + +To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework—she carried the contents +of a whole workbox in her pocket; however she contrived it, I don’t +know—then did a little nursing; then a little more needlework; then had a +little whispering chat with May, while the old lady dozed; and so in +little bits of bustle, which was quite her manner always, found it a very +short afternoon. Then, as it grew dark, and as it was a solemn part of +this Institution of the Pic-Nic that she should perform all Bertha’s +household tasks, she trimmed the fire, and swept the hearth, and set the +tea-board out, and drew the curtain, and lighted a candle. Then she +played an air or two on a rude kind of harp, which Caleb had contrived +for Bertha, and played them very well; for Nature had made her delicate +little ear as choice a one for music as it would have been for jewels, if +she had had any to wear. By this time it was the established hour for +having tea; and Tackleton came back again, to share the meal, and spend +the evening. + +Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and Caleb had sat down to +his afternoon’s work. But he couldn’t settle to it, poor fellow, being +anxious and remorseful for his daughter. It was touching to see him +sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding her so wistfully, and always +saying in his face, ‘Have I deceived her from her cradle, but to break +her heart!’ + +When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had nothing more to do in +washing up the cups and saucers; in a word—for I must come to it, and +there is no use in putting it off—when the time drew nigh for expecting +the Carrier’s return in every sound of distant wheels, her manner changed +again, her colour came and went, and she was very restless. Not as good +wives are, when listening for their husbands. No, no, no. It was +another sort of restlessness from that. + +Wheels heard. A horse’s feet. The barking of a dog. The gradual +approach of all the sounds. The scratching paw of Boxer at the door! + +‘Whose step is that!’ cried Bertha, starting up. + +‘Whose step?’ returned the Carrier, standing in the portal, with his +brown face ruddy as a winter berry from the keen night air. ‘Why, mine.’ + +‘The other step,’ said Bertha. ‘The man’s tread behind you!’ + +‘She is not to be deceived,’ observed the Carrier, laughing. ‘Come +along, sir. You’ll be welcome, never fear!’ + +He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the deaf old gentleman entered. + +‘He’s not so much a stranger, that you haven’t seen him once, Caleb,’ +said the Carrier. ‘You’ll give him house-room till we go?’ + +‘Oh surely, John, and take it as an honour.’ + +‘He’s the best company on earth, to talk secrets in,’ said John. ‘I have +reasonable good lungs, but he tries ’em, I can tell you. Sit down, sir. +All friends here, and glad to see you!’ + +When he had imparted this assurance, in a voice that amply corroborated +what he had said about his lungs, he added in his natural tone, ‘A chair +in the chimney-corner, and leave to sit quite silent and look pleasantly +about him, is all he cares for. He’s easily pleased.’ + +Bertha had been listening intently. She called Caleb to her side, when +he had set the chair, and asked him, in a low voice, to describe their +visitor. When he had done so (truly now; with scrupulous fidelity), she +moved, for the first time since he had come in, and sighed, and seemed to +have no further interest concerning him. + +The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that he was, and fonder of +his little wife than ever. + +‘A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!’ he said, encircling her with his +rough arm, as she stood, removed from the rest; ‘and yet I like her +somehow. See yonder, Dot!’ + +He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I think she trembled. + +‘He’s—ha ha ha!—he’s full of admiration for you!’ said the Carrier. +‘Talked of nothing else, the whole way here. Why, he’s a brave old boy. +I like him for it!’ + +‘I wish he had had a better subject, John,’ she said, with an uneasy +glance about the room. At Tackleton especially. + +‘A better subject!’ cried the jovial John. ‘There’s no such thing. +Come, off with the great-coat, off with the thick shawl, off with the +heavy wrappers! and a cosy half-hour by the fire! My humble service, +Mistress. A game at cribbage, you and I? That’s hearty. The cards and +board, Dot. And a glass of beer here, if there’s any left, small wife!’ + +His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who accepting it with +gracious readiness, they were soon engaged upon the game. At first, the +Carrier looked about him sometimes, with a smile, or now and then called +Dot to peep over his shoulder at his hand, and advise him on some knotty +point. But his adversary being a rigid disciplinarian, and subject to an +occasional weakness in respect of pegging more than she was entitled to, +required such vigilance on his part, as left him neither eyes nor ears to +spare. Thus, his whole attention gradually became absorbed upon the +cards; and he thought of nothing else, until a hand upon his shoulder +restored him to a consciousness of Tackleton. + +‘I am sorry to disturb you—but a word, directly.’ + +‘I’m going to deal,’ returned the Carrier. ‘It’s a crisis.’ + +‘It is,’ said Tackleton. ‘Come here, man!’ + +There was that in his pale face which made the other rise immediately, +and ask him, in a hurry, what the matter was. + +‘Hush! John Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton. ‘I am sorry for this. I am +indeed. I have been afraid of it. I have suspected it from the first.’ + +‘What is it?’ asked the Carrier, with a frightened aspect. + +‘Hush! I’ll show you, if you’ll come with me.’ + +The Carrier accompanied him, without another word. They went across a +yard, where the stars were shining, and by a little side-door, into +Tackleton’s own counting-house, where there was a glass window, +commanding the ware-room, which was closed for the night. There was no +light in the counting-house itself, but there were lamps in the long +narrow ware-room; and consequently the window was bright. + +‘A moment!’ said Tackleton. ‘Can you bear to look through that window, +do you think?’ + +‘Why not?’ returned the Carrier. + +‘A moment more,’ said Tackleton. ‘Don’t commit any violence. It’s of no +use. It’s dangerous too. You’re a strong-made man; and you might do +murder before you know it.’ + +The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a step as if he had been +struck. In one stride he was at the window, and he saw— + +Oh Shadow on the Hearth! Oh truthful Cricket! Oh perfidious Wife! + +He saw her, with the old man—old no longer, but erect and gallant—bearing +in his hand the false white hair that had won his way into their desolate +and miserable home. He saw her listening to him, as he bent his head to +whisper in her ear; and suffering him to clasp her round the waist, as +they moved slowly down the dim wooden gallery towards the door by which +they had entered it. He saw them stop, and saw her turn—to have the +face, the face he loved so, so presented to his view!—and saw her, with +her own hands, adjust the lie upon his head, laughing, as she did it, at +his unsuspicious nature! + +He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it would have beaten +down a lion. But opening it immediately again, he spread it out before +the eyes of Tackleton (for he was tender of her, even then), and so, as +they passed out, fell down upon a desk, and was as weak as any infant. + +He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his horse and parcels, when +she came into the room, prepared for going home. + +‘Now, John, dear! Good night, May! Good night, Bertha!’ + +Could she kiss them? Could she be blithe and cheerful in her parting? +Could she venture to reveal her face to them without a blush? Yes. +Tackleton observed her closely, and she did all this. + +Tilly was hushing the Baby, and she crossed and re-crossed Tackleton, a +dozen times, repeating drowsily: + +‘Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, then, wring its hearts +almost to breaking; and did its fathers deceive it from its cradles but +to break its hearts at last!’ + +‘Now, Tilly, give me the Baby! Good night, Mr. Tackleton. Where’s John, +for goodness’ sake?’ + +‘He’s going to walk beside the horse’s head,’ said Tackleton; who helped +her to her seat. + +‘My dear John. Walk? To-night?’ + +The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty sign in the affirmative; +and the false stranger and the little nurse being in their places, the +old horse moved off. Boxer, the unconscious Boxer, running on before, +running back, running round and round the cart, and barking as +triumphantly and merrily as ever. + +When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting May and her mother home, +poor Caleb sat down by the fire beside his daughter; anxious and +remorseful at the core; and still saying in his wistful contemplation of +her, ‘Have I deceived her from her cradle, but to break her heart at +last!’ + +The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, had all stopped, and +run down, long ago. In the faint light and silence, the imperturbably +calm dolls, the agitated rocking-horses with distended eyes and nostrils, +the old gentlemen at the street-doors, standing half doubled up upon +their failing knees and ankles, the wry-faced nut-crackers, the very +Beasts upon their way into the Ark, in twos, like a Boarding School out +walking, might have been imagined to be stricken motionless with +fantastic wonder, at Dot being false, or Tackleton beloved, under any +combination of circumstances. + + + + +CHAPTER III—Chirp the Third + + +The Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the Carrier sat down by +his fireside. So troubled and grief-worn, that he seemed to scare the +Cuckoo, who, having cut his ten melodious announcements as short as +possible, plunged back into the Moorish Palace again, and clapped his +little door behind him, as if the unwonted spectacle were too much for +his feelings. + +If the little Haymaker had been armed with the sharpest of scythes, and +had cut at every stroke into the Carrier’s heart, he never could have +gashed and wounded it, as Dot had done. + +It was a heart so full of love for her; so bound up and held together by +innumerable threads of winning remembrance, spun from the daily working +of her many qualities of endearment; it was a heart in which she had +enshrined herself so gently and so closely; a heart so single and so +earnest in its Truth, so strong in right, so weak in wrong; that it could +cherish neither passion nor revenge at first, and had only room to hold +the broken image of its Idol. + +But, slowly, slowly, as the Carrier sat brooding on his hearth, now cold +and dark, other and fiercer thoughts began to rise within him, as an +angry wind comes rising in the night. The Stranger was beneath his +outraged roof. Three steps would take him to his chamber-door. One blow +would beat it in. ‘You might do murder before you know it,’ Tackleton +had said. How could it be murder, if he gave the villain time to grapple +with him hand to hand! He was the younger man. + +It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood of his mind. It was +an angry thought, goading him to some avenging act, that should change +the cheerful house into a haunted place which lonely travellers would +dread to pass by night; and where the timid would see shadows struggling +in the ruined windows when the moon was dim, and hear wild noises in the +stormy weather. + +He was the younger man! Yes, yes; some lover who had won the heart that +_he_ had never touched. Some lover of her early choice, of whom she had +thought and dreamed, for whom she had pined and pined, when he had +fancied her so happy by his side. O agony to think of it! + +She had been above-stairs with the Baby, getting it to bed. As he sat +brooding on the hearth, she came close beside him, without his +knowledge—in the turning of the rack of his great misery, he lost all +other sounds—and put her little stool at his feet. He only knew it, when +he felt her hand upon his own, and saw her looking up into his face. + +With wonder? No. It was his first impression, and he was fain to look +at her again, to set it right. No, not with wonder. With an eager and +inquiring look; but not with wonder. At first it was alarmed and +serious; then, it changed into a strange, wild, dreadful smile of +recognition of his thoughts; then, there was nothing but her clasped +hands on her brow, and her bent head, and falling hair. + +Though the power of Omnipotence had been his to wield at that moment, he +had too much of its diviner property of Mercy in his breast, to have +turned one feather’s weight of it against her. But he could not bear to +see her crouching down upon the little seat where he had often looked on +her, with love and pride, so innocent and gay; and, when she rose and +left him, sobbing as she went, he felt it a relief to have the vacant +place beside him rather than her so long-cherished presence. This in +itself was anguish keener than all, reminding him how desolate he was +become, and how the great bond of his life was rent asunder. + +The more he felt this, and the more he knew he could have better borne to +see her lying prematurely dead before him with their little child upon +her breast, the higher and the stronger rose his wrath against his enemy. +He looked about him for a weapon. + +There was a gun, hanging on the wall. He took it down, and moved a pace +or two towards the door of the perfidious Stranger’s room. He knew the +gun was loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was just to shoot this man +like a wild beast, seized him, and dilated in his mind until it grew into +a monstrous demon in complete possession of him, casting out all milder +thoughts and setting up its undivided empire. + +That phrase is wrong. Not casting out his milder thoughts, but artfully +transforming them. Changing them into scourges to drive him on. Turning +water into blood, love into hate, gentleness into blind ferocity. Her +image, sorrowing, humbled, but still pleading to his tenderness and mercy +with resistless power, never left his mind; but, staying there, it urged +him to the door; raised the weapon to his shoulder; fitted and nerved his +finger to the trigger; and cried ‘Kill him! In his bed!’ + +He reversed the gun to beat the stock upon the door; he already held it +lifted in the air; some indistinct design was in his thoughts of calling +out to him to fly, for God’s sake, by the window— + +When, suddenly, the struggling fire illumined the whole chimney with a +glow of light; and the Cricket on the Hearth began to Chirp! + +No sound he could have heard, no human voice, not even hers, could so +have moved and softened him. The artless words in which she had told him +of her love for this same Cricket, were once more freshly spoken; her +trembling, earnest manner at the moment, was again before him; her +pleasant voice—O what a voice it was, for making household music at the +fireside of an honest man!—thrilled through and through his better +nature, and awoke it into life and action. + +He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his sleep, awakened from +a frightful dream; and put the gun aside. Clasping his hands before his +face, he then sat down again beside the fire, and found relief in tears. + +The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, and stood in Fairy +shape before him. + +‘“I love it,”’ said the Fairy Voice, repeating what he well remembered, +‘“for the many times I have heard it, and the many thoughts its harmless +music has given me.”’ + +‘She said so!’ cried the Carrier. ‘True!’ + +‘“This has been a happy home, John; and I love the Cricket for its +sake!”’ + +‘It has been, Heaven knows,’ returned the Carrier. ‘She made it happy, +always,—until now.’ + +‘So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, busy, and +light-hearted!’ said the Voice. + +‘Otherwise I never could have loved her as I did,’ returned the Carrier. + +The Voice, correcting him, said ‘do.’ + +The Carrier repeated ‘as I did.’ But not firmly. His faltering tongue +resisted his control, and would speak in its own way, for itself and him. + +The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its hand and said: + +‘Upon your own hearth—’ + +‘The hearth she has blighted,’ interposed the Carrier. + +‘The hearth she has—how often!—blessed and brightened,’ said the Cricket; +‘the hearth which, but for her, were only a few stones and bricks and +rusty bars, but which has been, through her, the Altar of your Home; on +which you have nightly sacrificed some petty passion, selfishness, or +care, and offered up the homage of a tranquil mind, a trusting nature, +and an overflowing heart; so that the smoke from this poor chimney has +gone upward with a better fragrance than the richest incense that is +burnt before the richest shrines in all the gaudy temples of this +world!—Upon your own hearth; in its quiet sanctuary; surrounded by its +gentle influences and associations; hear her! Hear me! Hear everything +that speaks the language of your hearth and home!’ + +‘And pleads for her?’ inquired the Carrier. + +‘All things that speak the language of your hearth and home, must plead +for her!’ returned the Cricket. ‘For they speak the truth.’ + +And while the Carrier, with his head upon his hands, continued to sit +meditating in his chair, the Presence stood beside him, suggesting his +reflections by its power, and presenting them before him, as in a glass +or picture. It was not a solitary Presence. From the hearthstone, from +the chimney, from the clock, the pipe, the kettle, and the cradle; from +the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and the stairs; from the cart without, +and the cupboard within, and the household implements; from every thing +and every place with which she had ever been familiar, and with which she +had ever entwined one recollection of herself in her unhappy husband’s +mind; Fairies came trooping forth. Not to stand beside him as the +Cricket did, but to busy and bestir themselves. To do all honour to her +image. To pull him by the skirts, and point to it when it appeared. To +cluster round it, and embrace it, and strew flowers for it to tread on. +To try to crown its fair head with their tiny hands. To show that they +were fond of it and loved it; and that there was not one ugly, wicked or +accusatory creature to claim knowledge of it—none but their playful and +approving selves. + +His thoughts were constant to her image. It was always there. + +She sat plying her needle, before the fire, and singing to herself. Such +a blithe, thriving, steady little Dot! The fairy figures turned upon him +all at once, by one consent, with one prodigious concentrated stare, and +seemed to say, ‘Is this the light wife you are mourning for!’ + +There were sounds of gaiety outside, musical instruments, and noisy +tongues, and laughter. A crowd of young merry-makers came pouring in, +among whom were May Fielding and a score of pretty girls. Dot was the +fairest of them all; as young as any of them too. They came to summon +her to join their party. It was a dance. If ever little foot were made +for dancing, hers was, surely. But she laughed, and shook her head, and +pointed to her cookery on the fire, and her table ready spread: with an +exulting defiance that rendered her more charming than she was before. +And so she merrily dismissed them, nodding to her would-be partners, one +by one, as they passed, but with a comical indifference, enough to make +them go and drown themselves immediately if they were her admirers—and +they must have been so, more or less; they couldn’t help it. And yet +indifference was not her character. O no! For presently, there came a +certain Carrier to the door; and bless her what a welcome she bestowed +upon him! + +Again the staring figures turned upon him all at once, and seemed to say, +‘Is this the wife who has forsaken you!’ + +A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture: call it what you will. A +great shadow of the Stranger, as he first stood underneath their roof; +covering its surface, and blotting out all other objects. But the nimble +Fairies worked like bees to clear it off again. And Dot again was there. +Still bright and beautiful. + +Rocking her little Baby in its cradle, singing to it softly, and resting +her head upon a shoulder which had its counterpart in the musing figure +by which the Fairy Cricket stood. + +The night—I mean the real night: not going by Fairy clocks—was wearing +now; and in this stage of the Carrier’s thoughts, the moon burst out, and +shone brightly in the sky. Perhaps some calm and quiet light had risen +also, in his mind; and he could think more soberly of what had happened. + +Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals upon the +glass—always distinct, and big, and thoroughly defined—it never fell so +darkly as at first. Whenever it appeared, the Fairies uttered a general +cry of consternation, and plied their little arms and legs, with +inconceivable activity, to rub it out. And whenever they got at Dot +again, and showed her to him once more, bright and beautiful, they +cheered in the most inspiring manner. + +They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful and bright, for they were +Household Spirits to whom falsehood is annihilation; and being so, what +Dot was there for them, but the one active, beaming, pleasant little +creature who had been the light and sun of the Carrier’s Home! + +The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they showed her, with the +Baby, gossiping among a knot of sage old matrons, and affecting to be +wondrous old and matronly herself, and leaning in a staid, demure old way +upon her husband’s arm, attempting—she! such a bud of a little woman—to +convey the idea of having abjured the vanities of the world in general, +and of being the sort of person to whom it was no novelty at all to be a +mother; yet in the same breath, they showed her, laughing at the Carrier +for being awkward, and pulling up his shirt-collar to make him smart, and +mincing merrily about that very room to teach him how to dance! + +They turned, and stared immensely at him when they showed her with the +Blind Girl; for, though she carried cheerfulness and animation with her +wheresoever she went, she bore those influences into Caleb Plummer’s +home, heaped up and running over. The Blind Girl’s love for her, and +trust in her, and gratitude to her; her own good busy way of setting +Bertha’s thanks aside; her dexterous little arts for filling up each +moment of the visit in doing something useful to the house, and really +working hard while feigning to make holiday; her bountiful provision of +those standing delicacies, the Veal and Ham-Pie and the bottles of Beer; +her radiant little face arriving at the door, and taking leave; the +wonderful expression in her whole self, from her neat foot to the crown +of her head, of being a part of the establishment—a something necessary +to it, which it couldn’t be without; all this the Fairies revelled in, +and loved her for. And once again they looked upon him all at once, +appealingly, and seemed to say, while some among them nestled in her +dress and fondled her, ‘Is this the wife who has betrayed your +confidence!’ + +More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long thoughtful night, they +showed her to him sitting on her favourite seat, with her bent head, her +hands clasped on her brow, her falling hair. As he had seen her last. +And when they found her thus, they neither turned nor looked upon him, +but gathered close round her, and comforted and kissed her, and pressed +on one another to show sympathy and kindness to her, and forgot him +altogether. + +Thus the night passed. The moon went down; the stars grew pale; the cold +day broke; the sun rose. The Carrier still sat, musing, in the chimney +corner. He had sat there, with his head upon his hands, all night. All +night the faithful Cricket had been Chirp, Chirp, Chirping on the Hearth. +All night he had listened to its voice. All night the household Fairies +had been busy with him. All night she had been amiable and blameless in +the glass, except when that one shadow fell upon it. + +He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and dressed himself. He +couldn’t go about his customary cheerful avocations—he wanted spirit for +them—but it mattered the less, that it was Tackleton’s wedding-day, and +he had arranged to make his rounds by proxy. He thought to have gone +merrily to church with Dot. But such plans were at an end. It was their +own wedding-day too. Ah! how little he had looked for such a close to +such a year! + +The Carrier had expected that Tackleton would pay him an early visit; and +he was right. He had not walked to and fro before his own door, many +minutes, when he saw the Toy-merchant coming in his chaise along the +road. As the chaise drew nearer, he perceived that Tackleton was dressed +out sprucely for his marriage, and that he had decorated his horse’s head +with flowers and favours. + +The horse looked much more like a bridegroom than Tackleton, whose +half-closed eye was more disagreeably expressive than ever. But the +Carrier took little heed of this. His thoughts had other occupation. + +‘John Peerybingle!’ said Tackleton, with an air of condolence. ‘My good +fellow, how do you find yourself this morning?’ + +‘I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton,’ returned the Carrier, +shaking his head: ‘for I have been a good deal disturbed in my mind. But +it’s over now! Can you spare me half an hour or so, for some private +talk?’ + +‘I came on purpose,’ returned Tackleton, alighting. ‘Never mind the +horse. He’ll stand quiet enough, with the reins over this post, if +you’ll give him a mouthful of hay.’ + +The Carrier having brought it from his stable, and set it before him, +they turned into the house. + +‘You are not married before noon,’ he said, ‘I think?’ + +‘No,’ answered Tackleton. ‘Plenty of time. Plenty of time.’ + +When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was rapping at the +Stranger’s door; which was only removed from it by a few steps. One of +her very red eyes (for Tilly had been crying all night long, because her +mistress cried) was at the keyhole; and she was knocking very loud; and +seemed frightened. + +‘If you please I can’t make nobody hear,’ said Tilly, looking round. ‘I +hope nobody an’t gone and been and died if you please!’ + +This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy emphasised with various new raps +and kicks at the door; which led to no result whatever. + +‘Shall I go?’ said Tackleton. ‘It’s curious.’ + +The Carrier, who had turned his face from the door, signed to him to go +if he would. + +So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy’s relief; and he too kicked and +knocked; and he too failed to get the least reply. But he thought of +trying the handle of the door; and as it opened easily, he peeped in, +looked in, went in, and soon came running out again. + +‘John Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton, in his ear. ‘I hope there has been +nothing—nothing rash in the night?’ + +The Carrier turned upon him quickly. + +‘Because he’s gone!’ said Tackleton; ‘and the window’s open. I don’t see +any marks—to be sure it’s almost on a level with the garden: but I was +afraid there might have been some—some scuffle. Eh?’ + +He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at him so +hard. And he gave his eye, and his face, and his whole person, a sharp +twist. As if he would have screwed the truth out of him. + +‘Make yourself easy,’ said the Carrier. ‘He went into that room last +night, without harm in word or deed from me, and no one has entered it +since. He is away of his own free will. I’d go out gladly at that door, +and beg my bread from house to house, for life, if I could so change the +past that he had never come. But he has come and gone. And I have done +with him!’ + +‘Oh!—Well, I think he has got off pretty easy,’ said Tackleton, taking a +chair. + +The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down too, and shaded his +face with his hand, for some little time, before proceeding. + +‘You showed me last night,’ he said at length, ‘my wife; my wife that I +love; secretly—’ + +‘And tenderly,’ insinuated Tackleton. + +‘Conniving at that man’s disguise, and giving him opportunities of +meeting her alone. I think there’s no sight I wouldn’t have rather seen +than that. I think there’s no man in the world I wouldn’t have rather +had to show it me.’ + +‘I confess to having had my suspicions always,’ said Tackleton. ‘And +that has made me objectionable here, I know.’ + +‘But as you did show it me,’ pursued the Carrier, not minding him; ‘and +as you saw her, my wife, my wife that I love’—his voice, and eye, and +hand, grew steadier and firmer as he repeated these words: evidently in +pursuance of a steadfast purpose—‘as you saw her at this disadvantage, it +is right and just that you should also see with my eyes, and look into my +breast, and know what my mind is, upon the subject. For it’s settled,’ +said the Carrier, regarding him attentively. ‘And nothing can shake it +now.’ + +Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, about its being +necessary to vindicate something or other; but he was overawed by the +manner of his companion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it had a +something dignified and noble in it, which nothing but the soul of +generous honour dwelling in the man could have imparted. + +‘I am a plain, rough man,’ pursued the Carrier, ‘with very little to +recommend me. I am not a clever man, as you very well know. I am not a +young man. I loved my little Dot, because I had seen her grow up, from a +child, in her father’s house; because I knew how precious she was; +because she had been my life, for years and years. There’s many men I +can’t compare with, who never could have loved my little Dot like me, I +think!’ + +He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time with his foot, before +resuming. + +‘I often thought that though I wasn’t good enough for her, I should make +her a kind husband, and perhaps know her value better than another; and +in this way I reconciled it to myself, and came to think it might be +possible that we should be married. And in the end it came about, and we +were married.’ + +‘Hah!’ said Tackleton, with a significant shake of the head. + +‘I had studied myself; I had had experience of myself; I knew how much I +loved her, and how happy I should be,’ pursued the Carrier. ‘But I had +not—I feel it now—sufficiently considered her.’ + +‘To be sure,’ said Tackleton. ‘Giddiness, frivolity, fickleness, love of +admiration! Not considered! All left out of sight! Hah!’ + +‘You had best not interrupt me,’ said the Carrier, with some sternness, +‘till you understand me; and you’re wide of doing so. If, yesterday, I’d +have struck that man down at a blow, who dared to breathe a word against +her, to-day I’d set my foot upon his face, if he was my brother!’ + +The Toy-merchant gazed at him in astonishment. He went on in a softer +tone: + +‘Did I consider,’ said the Carrier, ‘that I took her—at her age, and with +her beauty—from her young companions, and the many scenes of which she +was the ornament; in which she was the brightest little star that ever +shone, to shut her up from day to day in my dull house, and keep my +tedious company? Did I consider how little suited I was to her sprightly +humour, and how wearisome a plodding man like me must be, to one of her +quick spirit? Did I consider that it was no merit in me, or claim in me, +that I loved her, when everybody must, who knew her? Never. I took +advantage of her hopeful nature and her cheerful disposition; and I +married her. I wish I never had! For her sake; not for mine!’ + +The Toy-merchant gazed at him, without winking. Even the half-shut eye +was open now. + +‘Heaven bless her!’ said the Carrier, ‘for the cheerful constancy with +which she tried to keep the knowledge of this from me! And Heaven help +me, that, in my slow mind, I have not found it out before! Poor child! +Poor Dot! _I_ not to find it out, who have seen her eyes fill with +tears, when such a marriage as our own was spoken of! I, who have seen +the secret trembling on her lips a hundred times, and never suspected it +till last night! Poor girl! That I could ever hope she would be fond of +me! That I could ever believe she was!’ + +‘She made a show of it,’ said Tackleton. ‘She made such a show of it, +that to tell you the truth it was the origin of my misgivings.’ + +And here he asserted the superiority of May Fielding, who certainly made +no sort of show of being fond of _him_. + +‘She has tried,’ said the poor Carrier, with greater emotion than he had +exhibited yet; ‘I only now begin to know how hard she has tried, to be my +dutiful and zealous wife. How good she has been; how much she has done; +how brave and strong a heart she has; let the happiness I have known +under this roof bear witness! It will be some help and comfort to me, +when I am here alone.’ + +‘Here alone?’ said Tackleton. ‘Oh! Then you do mean to take some notice +of this?’ + +‘I mean,’ returned the Carrier, ‘to do her the greatest kindness, and +make her the best reparation, in my power. I can release her from the +daily pain of an unequal marriage, and the struggle to conceal it. She +shall be as free as I can render her.’ + +‘Make _her_ reparation!’ exclaimed Tackleton, twisting and turning his +great ears with his hands. ‘There must be something wrong here. You +didn’t say that, of course.’ + +The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy-merchant, and shook +him like a reed. + +‘Listen to me!’ he said. ‘And take care that you hear me right. Listen +to me. Do I speak plainly?’ + +‘Very plainly indeed,’ answered Tackleton. + +‘As if I meant it?’ + +‘Very much as if you meant it.’ + +‘I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night,’ exclaimed the Carrier. +‘On the spot where she has often sat beside me, with her sweet face +looking into mine. I called up her whole life, day by day. I had her +dear self, in its every passage, in review before me. And upon my soul +she is innocent, if there is One to judge the innocent and guilty!’ + +Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household Fairies! + +‘Passion and distrust have left me!’ said the Carrier; ‘and nothing but +my grief remains. In an unhappy moment some old lover, better suited to +her tastes and years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me, against her will; +returned. In an unhappy moment, taken by surprise, and wanting time to +think of what she did, she made herself a party to his treachery, by +concealing it. Last night she saw him, in the interview we witnessed. +It was wrong. But otherwise than this she is innocent if there is truth +on earth!’ + +‘If that is your opinion’—Tackleton began. + +‘So, let her go!’ pursued the Carrier. ‘Go, with my blessing for the +many happy hours she has given me, and my forgiveness for any pang she +has caused me. Let her go, and have the peace of mind I wish her! +She’ll never hate me. She’ll learn to like me better, when I’m not a +drag upon her, and she wears the chain I have riveted, more lightly. +This is the day on which I took her, with so little thought for her +enjoyment, from her home. To-day she shall return to it, and I will +trouble her no more. Her father and mother will be here to-day—we had +made a little plan for keeping it together—and they shall take her home. +I can trust her, there, or anywhere. She leaves me without blame, and +she will live so I am sure. If I should die—I may perhaps while she is +still young; I have lost some courage in a few hours—she’ll find that I +remembered her, and loved her to the last! This is the end of what you +showed me. Now, it’s over!’ + +‘O no, John, not over. Do not say it’s over yet! Not quite yet. I have +heard your noble words. I could not steal away, pretending to be +ignorant of what has affected me with such deep gratitude. Do not say +it’s over, ‘till the clock has struck again!’ + +She had entered shortly after Tackleton, and had remained there. She +never looked at Tackleton, but fixed her eyes upon her husband. But she +kept away from him, setting as wide a space as possible between them; and +though she spoke with most impassioned earnestness, she went no nearer to +him even then. How different in this from her old self! + +‘No hand can make the clock which will strike again for me the hours that +are gone,’ replied the Carrier, with a faint smile. ‘But let it be so, +if you will, my dear. It will strike soon. It’s of little matter what +we say. I’d try to please you in a harder case than that.’ + +‘Well!’ muttered Tackleton. ‘I must be off, for when the clock strikes +again, it’ll be necessary for me to be upon my way to church. Good +morning, John Peerybingle. I’m sorry to be deprived of the pleasure of +your company. Sorry for the loss, and the occasion of it too!’ + +‘I have spoken plainly?’ said the Carrier, accompanying him to the door. + +‘Oh quite!’ + +‘And you’ll remember what I have said?’ + +‘Why, if you compel me to make the observation,’ said Tackleton, +previously taking the precaution of getting into his chaise; ‘I must say +that it was so very unexpected, that I’m far from being likely to forget +it.’ + +‘The better for us both,’ returned the Carrier. ‘Good bye. I give you +joy!’ + +‘I wish I could give it to _you_,’ said Tackleton. ‘As I can’t; +thank’ee. Between ourselves, (as I told you before, eh?) I don’t much +think I shall have the less joy in my married life, because May hasn’t +been too officious about me, and too demonstrative. Good bye! Take care +of yourself.’ + +The Carrier stood looking after him until he was smaller in the distance +than his horse’s flowers and favours near at hand; and then, with a deep +sigh, went strolling like a restless, broken man, among some neighbouring +elms; unwilling to return until the clock was on the eve of striking. + +His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; but often dried her +eyes and checked herself, to say how good he was, how excellent he was! +and once or twice she laughed; so heartily, triumphantly, and +incoherently (still crying all the time), that Tilly was quite horrified. + +‘Ow if you please don’t!’ said Tilly. ‘It’s enough to dead and bury the +Baby, so it is if you please.’ + +‘Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, Tilly,’ inquired her +mistress, drying her eyes; ‘when I can’t live here, and have gone to my +old home?’ + +‘Ow if you please don’t!’ cried Tilly, throwing back her head, and +bursting out into a howl—she looked at the moment uncommonly like Boxer. +‘Ow if you please don’t! Ow, what has everybody gone and been and done +with everybody, making everybody else so wretched! Ow-w-w-w!’ + +The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, into such a +deplorable howl, the more tremendous from its long suppression, that she +must infallibly have awakened the Baby, and frightened him into something +serious (probably convulsions), if her eyes had not encountered Caleb +Plummer, leading in his daughter. This spectacle restoring her to a +sense of the proprieties, she stood for some few moments silent, with her +mouth wide open; and then, posting off to the bed on which the Baby lay +asleep, danced in a weird, Saint Vitus manner on the floor, and at the +same time rummaged with her face and head among the bedclothes, +apparently deriving much relief from those extraordinary operations. + +‘Mary!’ said Bertha. ‘Not at the marriage!’ + +‘I told her you would not be there, mum,’ whispered Caleb. ‘I heard as +much last night. But bless you,’ said the little man, taking her +tenderly by both hands, ‘I don’t care for what they say. I don’t believe +them. There an’t much of me, but that little should be torn to pieces +sooner than I’d trust a word against you!’ + +He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might have hugged +one of his own dolls. + +‘Bertha couldn’t stay at home this morning,’ said Caleb. ‘She was +afraid, I know, to hear the bells ring, and couldn’t trust herself to be +so near them on their wedding-day. So we started in good time, and came +here. I have been thinking of what I have done,’ said Caleb, after a +moment’s pause; ‘I have been blaming myself till I hardly knew what to do +or where to turn, for the distress of mind I have caused her; and I’ve +come to the conclusion that I’d better, if you’ll stay with me, mum, the +while, tell her the truth. You’ll stay with me the while?’ he inquired, +trembling from head to foot. ‘I don’t know what effect it may have upon +her; I don’t know what she’ll think of me; I don’t know that she’ll ever +care for her poor father afterwards. But it’s best for her that she +should be undeceived, and I must bear the consequences as I deserve!’ + +‘Mary,’ said Bertha, ‘where is your hand! Ah! Here it is here it is!’ +pressing it to her lips, with a smile, and drawing it through her arm. +‘I heard them speaking softly among themselves, last night, of some blame +against you. They were wrong.’ + +The Carrier’s Wife was silent. Caleb answered for her. + +‘They were wrong,’ he said. + +‘I knew it!’ cried Bertha, proudly. ‘I told them so. I scorned to hear +a word! Blame _her_ with justice!’ she pressed the hand between her own, +and the soft cheek against her face. ‘No! I am not so blind as that.’ + +Her father went on one side of her, while Dot remained upon the other: +holding her hand. + +‘I know you all,’ said Bertha, ‘better than you think. But none so well +as her. Not even you, father. There is nothing half so real and so true +about me, as she is. If I could be restored to sight this instant, and +not a word were spoken, I could choose her from a crowd! My sister!’ + +‘Bertha, my dear!’ said Caleb, ‘I have something on my mind I want to +tell you, while we three are alone. Hear me kindly! I have a confession +to make to you, my darling.’ + +‘A confession, father?’ + +‘I have wandered from the truth and lost myself, my child,’ said Caleb, +with a pitiable expression in his bewildered face. ‘I have wandered from +the truth, intending to be kind to you; and have been cruel.’ + +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him, and repeated ‘Cruel!’ + +‘He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha,’ said Dot. ‘You’ll say so, +presently. You’ll be the first to tell him so.’ + +‘He cruel to me!’ cried Bertha, with a smile of incredulity. + +‘Not meaning it, my child,’ said Caleb. ‘But I have been; though I never +suspected it, till yesterday. My dear blind daughter, hear me and +forgive me! The world you live in, heart of mine, doesn’t exist as I +have represented it. The eyes you have trusted in, have been false to +you.’ + +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him still; but drew back, and +clung closer to her friend. + +‘Your road in life was rough, my poor one,’ said Caleb, ‘and I meant to +smooth it for you. I have altered objects, changed the characters of +people, invented many things that never have been, to make you happier. +I have had concealments from you, put deceptions on you, God forgive me! +and surrounded you with fancies.’ + +‘But living people are not fancies!’ she said hurriedly, and turning very +pale, and still retiring from him. ‘You can’t change them.’ + +‘I have done so, Bertha,’ pleaded Caleb. ‘There is one person that you +know, my dove—’ + +‘Oh father! why do you say, I know?’ she answered, in a term of keen +reproach. ‘What and whom do _I_ know! I who have no leader! I so +miserably blind.’ + +In the anguish of her heart, she stretched out her hands, as if she were +groping her way; then spread them, in a manner most forlorn and sad, upon +her face. + +‘The marriage that takes place to-day,’ said Caleb, ‘is with a stern, +sordid, grinding man. A hard master to you and me, my dear, for many +years. Ugly in his looks, and in his nature. Cold and callous always. +Unlike what I have painted him to you in everything, my child. In +everything.’ + +‘Oh why,’ cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it seemed, almost beyond +endurance, ‘why did you ever do this! Why did you ever fill my heart so +full, and then come in like Death, and tear away the objects of my love! +O Heaven, how blind I am! How helpless and alone!’ + +Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no reply but in his +penitence and sorrow. + +She had been but a short time in this passion of regret, when the Cricket +on the Hearth, unheard by all but her, began to chirp. Not merrily, but +in a low, faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful that her tears began +to flow; and when the Presence which had been beside the Carrier all +night, appeared behind her, pointing to her father, they fell down like +rain. + +She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was conscious, through +her blindness, of the Presence hovering about her father. + +‘Mary,’ said the Blind Girl, ‘tell me what my home is. What it truly +is.’ + +‘It is a poor place, Bertha; very poor and bare indeed. The house will +scarcely keep out wind and rain another winter. It is as roughly +shielded from the weather, Bertha,’ Dot continued in a low, clear voice, +‘as your poor father in his sack-cloth coat.’ + +The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the Carrier’s little wife +aside. + +‘Those presents that I took such care of; that came almost at my wish, +and were so dearly welcome to me,’ she said, trembling; ‘where did they +come from? Did you send them?’ + +‘No.’ + +‘Who then?’ + +Dot saw she knew, already, and was silent. The Blind Girl spread her +hands before her face again. But in quite another manner now. + +‘Dear Mary, a moment. One moment? More this way. Speak softly to me. +You are true, I know. You’d not deceive me now; would you?’ + +‘No, Bertha, indeed!’ + +‘No, I am sure you would not. You have too much pity for me. Mary, look +across the room to where we were just now—to where my father is—my +father, so compassionate and loving to me—and tell me what you see.’ + +‘I see,’ said Dot, who understood her well, ‘an old man sitting in a +chair, and leaning sorrowfully on the back, with his face resting on his +hand. As if his child should comfort him, Bertha.’ + +‘Yes, yes. She will. Go on.’ + +‘He is an old man, worn with care and work. He is a spare, dejected, +thoughtful, grey-haired man. I see him now, despondent and bowed down, +and striving against nothing. But, Bertha, I have seen him many times +before, and striving hard in many ways for one great sacred object. And +I honour his grey head, and bless him!’ + +The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing herself upon her knees +before him, took the grey head to her breast. + +‘It is my sight restored. It is my sight!’ she cried. ‘I have been +blind, and now my eyes are open. I never knew him! To think I might +have died, and never truly seen the father who has been so loving to me!’ + +There were no words for Caleb’s emotion. + +‘There is not a gallant figure on this earth,’ exclaimed the Blind Girl, +holding him in her embrace, ‘that I would love so dearly, and would +cherish so devotedly, as this! The greyer, and more worn, the dearer, +father! Never let them say I am blind again. There’s not a furrow in +his face, there’s not a hair upon his head, that shall be forgotten in my +prayers and thanks to Heaven!’ + +Caleb managed to articulate ‘My Bertha!’ + +‘And in my blindness, I believed him,’ said the girl, caressing him with +tears of exquisite affection, ‘to be so different! And having him beside +me, day by day, so mindful of me—always, never dreamed of this!’ + +‘The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha,’ said poor Caleb. +‘He’s gone!’ + +‘Nothing is gone,’ she answered. ‘Dearest father, no! Everything is +here—in you. The father that I loved so well; the father that I never +loved enough, and never knew; the benefactor whom I first began to +reverence and love, because he had such sympathy for me; All are here in +you. Nothing is dead to me. The soul of all that was most dear to me is +here—here, with the worn face, and the grey head. And I am NOT blind, +father, any longer!’ + +Dot’s whole attention had been concentrated, during this discourse, upon +the father and daughter; but looking, now, towards the little Haymaker in +the Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within a few minutes of +striking, and fell, immediately, into a nervous and excited state. + +‘Father,’ said Bertha, hesitating. ‘Mary.’ + +‘Yes, my dear,’ returned Caleb. ‘Here she is.’ + +‘There is no change in _her_. You never told me anything of _her_ that +was not true?’ + +‘I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid,’ returned Caleb, ‘if I +could have made her better than she was. But I must have changed her for +the worse, if I had changed her at all. Nothing could improve her, +Bertha.’ + +Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked the question, her +delight and pride in the reply and her renewed embrace of Dot, were +charming to behold. + +‘More changes than you think for, may happen though, my dear,’ said Dot. +‘Changes for the better, I mean; changes for great joy to some of us. +You mustn’t let them startle you too much, if any such should ever +happen, and affect you? Are those wheels upon the road? You’ve a quick +ear, Bertha. Are they wheels?’ + +‘Yes. Coming very fast.’ + +‘I—I—I know you have a quick ear,’ said Dot, placing her hand upon her +heart, and evidently talking on, as fast as she could to hide its +palpitating state, ‘because I have noticed it often, and because you were +so quick to find out that strange step last night. Though why you should +have said, as I very well recollect you did say, Bertha, “Whose step is +that!” and why you should have taken any greater observation of it than +of any other step, I don’t know. Though as I said just now, there are +great changes in the world: great changes: and we can’t do better than +prepare ourselves to be surprised at hardly anything.’ + +Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that she spoke to him, no less +than to his daughter. He saw her, with astonishment, so fluttered and +distressed that she could scarcely breathe; and holding to a chair, to +save herself from falling. + +‘They are wheels indeed!’ she panted. ‘Coming nearer! Nearer! Very +close! And now you hear them stopping at the garden-gate! And now you +hear a step outside the door—the same step, Bertha, is it not!—and now!’— + +She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; and running up to Caleb +put her hands upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room, and +flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them. + +‘Is it over?’ cried Dot. + +‘Yes!’ + +‘Happily over?’ + +‘Yes!’ + +‘Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the like of +it before?’ cried Dot. + +‘If my boy in the Golden South Americas was alive’—said Caleb, trembling. + +‘He is alive!’ shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes, and +clapping them in ecstasy; ‘look at him! See where he stands before you, +healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear living, loving +brother, Bertha!’ + +All honour to the little creature for her transports! All honour to her +tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another’s arms! +All honour to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt +sailor-fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half-way, and never turned +her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it, freely, and to +press her to his bounding heart! + +And honour to the Cuckoo too—why not!—for bursting out of the trap-door +in the Moorish Palace like a house-breaker, and hiccoughing twelve times +on the assembled company, as if he had got drunk for joy! + +The Carrier, entering, started back. And well he might, to find himself +in such good company. + +‘Look, John!’ said Caleb, exultingly, ‘look here! My own boy from the +Golden South Americas! My own son! Him that you fitted out, and sent +away yourself! Him that you were always such a friend to!’ + +The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, as some +feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf Man in the Cart, +said: + +‘Edward! Was it you?’ + +‘Now tell him all!’ cried Dot. ‘Tell him all, Edward; and don’t spare +me, for nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes, ever again.’ + +‘I was the man,’ said Edward. + +‘And could you steal, disguised, into the house of your old friend?’ +rejoined the Carrier. ‘There was a frank boy once—how many years is it, +Caleb, since we heard that he was dead, and had it proved, we +thought?—who never would have done that.’ + +‘There was a generous friend of mine, once; more a father to me than a +friend;’ said Edward, ‘who never would have judged me, or any other man, +unheard. You were he. So I am certain you will hear me now.’ + +The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still kept far away from +him, replied, ‘Well! that’s but fair. I will.’ + +‘You must know that when I left here, a boy,’ said Edward, ‘I was in +love, and my love was returned. She was a very young girl, who perhaps +(you may tell me) didn’t know her own mind. But I knew mine, and I had a +passion for her.’ + +‘You had!’ exclaimed the Carrier. ‘You!’ + +‘Indeed I had,’ returned the other. ‘And she returned it. I have ever +since believed she did, and now I am sure she did.’ + +‘Heaven help me!’ said the Carrier. ‘This is worse than all.’ + +‘Constant to her,’ said Edward, ‘and returning, full of hope, after many +hardships and perils, to redeem my part of our old contract, I heard, +twenty miles away, that she was false to me; that she had forgotten me; +and had bestowed herself upon another and a richer man. I had no mind to +reproach her; but I wished to see her, and to prove beyond dispute that +this was true. I hoped she might have been forced into it, against her +own desire and recollection. It would be small comfort, but it would be +some, I thought, and on I came. That I might have the truth, the real +truth; observing freely for myself, and judging for myself, without +obstruction on the one hand, or presenting my own influence (if I had +any) before her, on the other; I dressed myself unlike myself—you know +how; and waited on the road—you know where. You had no suspicion of me; +neither had—had she,’ pointing to Dot, ‘until I whispered in her ear at +that fireside, and she so nearly betrayed me.’ + +‘But when she knew that Edward was alive, and had come back,’ sobbed Dot, +now speaking for herself, as she had burned to do, all through this +narrative; ‘and when she knew his purpose, she advised him by all means +to keep his secret close; for his old friend John Peerybingle was much +too open in his nature, and too clumsy in all artifice—being a clumsy man +in general,’ said Dot, half laughing and half crying—‘to keep it for him. +And when she—that’s me, John,’ sobbed the little woman—‘told him all, and +how his sweetheart had believed him to be dead; and how she had at last +been over-persuaded by her mother into a marriage which the silly, dear +old thing called advantageous; and when she—that’s me again, John—told +him they were not yet married (though close upon it), and that it would +be nothing but a sacrifice if it went on, for there was no love on her +side; and when he went nearly mad with joy to hear it; then she—that’s me +again—said she would go between them, as she had often done before in old +times, John, and would sound his sweetheart and be sure that what she—me +again, John—said and thought was right. And it was right, John! And +they were brought together, John! And they were married, John, an hour +ago! And here’s the Bride! And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! +And I’m a happy little woman, May, God bless you!’ + +She was an irresistible little woman, if that be anything to the purpose; +and never so completely irresistible as in her present transports. There +never were congratulations so endearing and delicious, as those she +lavished on herself and on the Bride. + +Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the honest Carrier had stood, +confounded. Flying, now, towards her, Dot stretched out her hand to stop +him, and retreated as before. + +‘No, John, no! Hear all! Don’t love me any more, John, till you’ve +heard every word I have to say. It was wrong to have a secret from you, +John. I’m very sorry. I didn’t think it any harm, till I came and sat +down by you on the little stool last night. But when I knew by what was +written in your face, that you had seen me walking in the gallery with +Edward, and when I knew what you thought, I felt how giddy and how wrong +it was. But oh, dear John, how could you, could you, think so!’ + +Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peerybingle would have caught +her in his arms. But no; she wouldn’t let him. + +‘Don’t love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! When I was +sad about this intended marriage, dear, it was because I remembered May +and Edward such young lovers; and knew that her heart was far away from +Tackleton. You believe that, now. Don’t you, John?’ + +John was going to make another rush at this appeal; but she stopped him +again. + +‘No; keep there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes do, +John, and call you clumsy and a dear old goose, and names of that sort, +it’s because I love you, John, so well, and take such pleasure in your +ways, and wouldn’t see you altered in the least respect to have you made +a King to-morrow.’ + +‘Hooroar!’ said Caleb with unusual vigour. ‘My opinion!’ + +‘And when I speak of people being middle-aged, and steady, John, and +pretend that we are a humdrum couple, going on in a jog-trot sort of way, +it’s only because I’m such a silly little thing, John, that I like, +sometimes, to act a kind of Play with Baby, and all that: and make +believe.’ + +She saw that he was coming; and stopped him again. But she was very +nearly too late. + +‘No, don’t love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! What +I want most to tell you, I have kept to the last. My dear, good, +generous John, when we were talking the other night about the Cricket, I +had it on my lips to say, that at first I did not love you quite so +dearly as I do now; that when I first came home here, I was half afraid I +mightn’t learn to love you every bit as well as I hoped and prayed I +might—being so very young, John! But, dear John, every day and hour I +loved you more and more. And if I could have loved you better than I do, +the noble words I heard you say this morning, would have made me. But I +can’t. All the affection that I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave +you, as you well deserve, long, long ago, and I have no more left to +give. Now, my dear husband, take me to your heart again! That’s my +home, John; and never, never think of sending me to any other!’ + +You never will derive so much delight from seeing a glorious little woman +in the arms of a third party, as you would have felt if you had seen Dot +run into the Carrier’s embrace. It was the most complete, unmitigated, +soul-fraught little piece of earnestness that ever you beheld in all your +days. + +You may be sure the Carrier was in a state of perfect rapture; and you may +be sure Dot was likewise; and you may be sure they all were, inclusive of +Miss Slowboy, who wept copiously for joy, and wishing to include her +young charge in the general interchange of congratulations, handed round +the Baby to everybody in succession, as if it were something to drink. + +But, now, the sound of wheels was heard again outside the door; and +somebody exclaimed that Gruff and Tackleton was coming back. Speedily +that worthy gentleman appeared, looking warm and flustered. + +‘Why, what the Devil’s this, John Peerybingle!’ said Tackleton. ‘There’s +some mistake. I appointed Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at the church, and +I’ll swear I passed her on the road, on her way here. Oh! here she is! +I beg your pardon, sir; I haven’t the pleasure of knowing you; but if you +can do me the favour to spare this young lady, she has rather a +particular engagement this morning.’ + +‘But I can’t spare her,’ returned Edward. ‘I couldn’t think of it.’ + +‘What do you mean, you vagabond?’ said Tackleton. + +‘I mean, that as I can make allowance for your being vexed,’ returned the +other, with a smile, ‘I am as deaf to harsh discourse this morning, as I +was to all discourse last night.’ + +The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and the start he gave! + +‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Edward, holding out May’s left hand, and +especially the third finger; ‘that the young lady can’t accompany you to +church; but as she has been there once, this morning, perhaps you’ll +excuse her.’ + +Tackleton looked hard at the third finger, and took a little piece of +silver-paper, apparently containing a ring, from his waistcoat-pocket. + +‘Miss Slowboy,’ said Tackleton. ‘Will you have the kindness to throw +that in the fire? Thank’ee.’ + +‘It was a previous engagement, quite an old engagement, that prevented my +wife from keeping her appointment with you, I assure you,’ said Edward. + +‘Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge that I revealed it +to him faithfully; and that I told him, many times, I never could forget +it,’ said May, blushing. + +‘Oh certainly!’ said Tackleton. ‘Oh to be sure. Oh it’s all right. +It’s quite correct. Mrs. Edward Plummer, I infer?’ + +‘That’s the name,’ returned the bridegroom. + +‘Ah, I shouldn’t have known you, sir,’ said Tackleton, scrutinising his +face narrowly, and making a low bow. ‘I give you joy, sir!’ + +‘Thank’ee.’ + +‘Mrs. Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton, turning suddenly to where she stood +with her husband; ‘I am sorry. You haven’t done me a very great +kindness, but, upon my life I am sorry. You are better than I thought +you. John Peerybingle, I am sorry. You understand me; that’s enough. +It’s quite correct, ladies and gentlemen all, and perfectly satisfactory. +Good morning!’ + +With these words he carried it off, and carried himself off too: merely +stopping at the door, to take the flowers and favours from his horse’s +head, and to kick that animal once, in the ribs, as a means of informing +him that there was a screw loose in his arrangements. + +Of course it became a serious duty now, to make such a day of it, as +should mark these events for a high Feast and Festival in the Peerybingle +Calendar for evermore. Accordingly, Dot went to work to produce such an +entertainment, as should reflect undying honour on the house and on every +one concerned; and in a very short space of time, she was up to her +dimpled elbows in flour, and whitening the Carrier’s coat, every time he +came near her, by stopping him to give him a kiss. That good fellow +washed the greens, and peeled the turnips, and broke the plates, and +upset iron pots full of cold water on the fire, and made himself useful +in all sorts of ways: while a couple of professional assistants, hastily +called in from somewhere in the neighbourhood, as on a point of life or +death, ran against each other in all the doorways and round all the +corners, and everybody tumbled over Tilly Slowboy and the Baby, +everywhere. Tilly never came out in such force before. Her ubiquity was +the theme of general admiration. She was a stumbling-block in the +passage at five-and-twenty minutes past two; a man-trap in the kitchen at +half-past two precisely; and a pitfall in the garret at five-and-twenty +minutes to three. The Baby’s head was, as it were, a test and touchstone +for every description of matter,—animal, vegetable, and mineral. Nothing +was in use that day that didn’t come, at some time or other, into close +acquaintance with it. + +Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go and find out Mrs. +Fielding; and to be dismally penitent to that excellent gentlewoman; and +to bring her back, by force, if needful, to be happy and forgiving. And +when the Expedition first discovered her, she would listen to no terms at +all, but said, an unspeakable number of times, that ever she should have +lived to see the day! and couldn’t be got to say anything else, except, +‘Now carry me to the grave:’ which seemed absurd, on account of her not +being dead, or anything at all like it. After a time, she lapsed into a +state of dreadful calmness, and observed, that when that unfortunate +train of circumstances had occurred in the Indigo Trade, she had foreseen +that she would be exposed, during her whole life, to every species of +insult and contumely; and that she was glad to find it was the case; and +begged they wouldn’t trouble themselves about her,—for what was she? oh, +dear! a nobody!—but would forget that such a being lived, and would take +their course in life without her. From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she +passed into an angry one, in which she gave vent to the remarkable +expression that the worm would turn if trodden on; and, after that, she +yielded to a soft regret, and said, if they had only given her their +confidence, what might she not have had it in her power to suggest! +Taking advantage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition embraced +her; and she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her way to John +Peerybingle’s in a state of unimpeachable gentility; with a paper parcel +at her side containing a cap of state, almost as tall, and quite as +stiff, as a mitre. + +Then, there were Dot’s father and mother to come, in another little +chaise; and they were behind their time; and fears were entertained; and +there was much looking out for them down the road; and Mrs. Fielding +always would look in the wrong and morally impossible direction; and +being apprised thereof, hoped she might take the liberty of looking where +she pleased. At last they came: a chubby little couple, jogging along in +a snug and comfortable little way that quite belonged to the Dot family; +and Dot and her mother, side by side, were wonderful to see. They were +so like each other. + +Then, Dot’s mother had to renew her acquaintance with May’s mother; and +May’s mother always stood on her gentility; and Dot’s mother never stood +on anything but her active little feet. And old Dot—so to call Dot’s +father, I forgot it wasn’t his right name, but never mind—took liberties, +and shook hands at first sight, and seemed to think a cap but so much +starch and muslin, and didn’t defer himself at all to the Indigo Trade, +but said there was no help for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding’s summing +up, was a good-natured kind of man—but coarse, my dear. + +I wouldn’t have missed Dot, doing the honours in her wedding-gown, my +benison on her bright face! for any money. No! nor the good Carrier, so +jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. Nor the brown, fresh +sailor-fellow, and his handsome wife. Nor any one among them. To have +missed the dinner would have been to miss as jolly and as stout a meal as +man need eat; and to have missed the overflowing cups in which they drank +The Wedding-Day, would have been the greatest miss of all. + +After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling Bowl. As I’m a +living man, hoping to keep so, for a year or two, he sang it through. + +And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident occurred, just as he +finished the last verse. + +There was a tap at the door; and a man came staggering in, without saying +with your leave, or by your leave, with something heavy on his head. +Setting this down in the middle of the table, symmetrically in the centre +of the nuts and apples, he said: + +‘Mr. Tackleton’s compliments, and as he hasn’t got no use for the cake +himself, p’raps you’ll eat it.’ + +And with those words, he walked off. + +There was some surprise among the company, as you may imagine. Mrs. +Fielding, being a lady of infinite discernment, suggested that the cake +was poisoned, and related a narrative of a cake, which, within her +knowledge, had turned a seminary for young ladies, blue. But she was +overruled by acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, with much ceremony +and rejoicing. + +I don’t think any one had tasted it, when there came another tap at the +door, and the same man appeared again, having under his arm a vast +brown-paper parcel. + +‘Mr. Tackleton’s compliments, and he’s sent a few toys for the Babby. +They ain’t ugly.’ + +After the delivery of which expressions, he retired again. + +The whole party would have experienced great difficulty in finding words +for their astonishment, even if they had had ample time to seek them. +But they had none at all; for the messenger had scarcely shut the door +behind him, when there came another tap, and Tackleton himself walked in. + +‘Mrs. Peerybingle!’ said the Toy-merchant, hat in hand. ‘I’m sorry. I’m +more sorry than I was this morning. I have had time to think of it. +John Peerybingle! I’m sour by disposition; but I can’t help being +sweetened, more or less, by coming face to face with such a man as you. +Caleb! This unconscious little nurse gave me a broken hint last night, +of which I have found the thread. I blush to think how easily I might +have bound you and your daughter to me, and what a miserable idiot I was, +when I took her for one! Friends, one and all, my house is very lonely +to-night. I have not so much as a Cricket on my Hearth. I have scared +them all away. Be gracious to me; let me join this happy party!’ + +He was at home in five minutes. You never saw such a fellow. What _had_ +he been doing with himself all his life, never to have known, before, his +great capacity of being jovial! Or what had the Fairies been doing with +him, to have effected such a change! + +‘John! you won’t send me home this evening; will you?’ whispered Dot. + +He had been very near it though! + +There wanted but one living creature to make the party complete; and, in +the twinkling of an eye, there he was, very thirsty with hard running, +and engaged in hopeless endeavours to squeeze his head into a narrow +pitcher. He had gone with the cart to its journey’s end, very much +disgusted with the absence of his master, and stupendously rebellious to +the Deputy. After lingering about the stable for some little time, +vainly attempting to incite the old horse to the mutinous act of +returning on his own account, he had walked into the tap-room and laid +himself down before the fire. But suddenly yielding to the conviction +that the Deputy was a humbug, and must be abandoned, he had got up again, +turned tail, and come home. + +There was a dance in the evening. With which general mention of that +recreation, I should have left it alone, if I had not some reason to +suppose that it was quite an original dance, and one of a most uncommon +figure. It was formed in an odd way; in this way. + +Edward, that sailor-fellow—a good free dashing sort of a fellow he +was—had been telling them various marvels concerning parrots, and mines, +and Mexicans, and gold dust, when all at once he took it in his head to +jump up from his seat and propose a dance; for Bertha’s harp was there, +and she had such a hand upon it as you seldom hear. Dot (sly little +piece of affectation when she chose) said her dancing days were over; _I_ +think because the Carrier was smoking his pipe, and she liked sitting by +him, best. Mrs. Fielding had no choice, of course, but to say _her_ +dancing days were over, after that; and everybody said the same, except +May; May was ready. + +So, May and Edward got up, amid great applause, to dance alone; and +Bertha plays her liveliest tune. + +Well! if you’ll believe me, they have not been dancing five minutes, when +suddenly the Carrier flings his pipe away, takes Dot round the waist, +dashes out into the room, and starts off with her, toe and heel, quite +wonderfully. Tackleton no sooner sees this, than he skims across to Mrs. +Fielding, takes her round the waist, and follows suit. Old Dot no sooner +sees this, than up he is, all alive, whisks off Mrs. Dot in the middle of +the dance, and is the foremost there. Caleb no sooner sees this, than he +clutches Tilly Slowboy by both hands and goes off at score; Miss Slowboy, +firm in the belief that diving hotly in among the other couples, and +effecting any number of concussions with them, is your only principle of +footing it. + +Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp; and +how the kettle hums! + + * * * * * + +But what is this! Even as I listen to them, blithely, and turn towards +Dot, for one last glimpse of a little figure very pleasant to me, she and +the rest have vanished into air, and I am left alone. A Cricket sings +upon the Hearth; a broken child’s-toy lies upon the ground; and nothing +else remains. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH*** + + +******* This file should be named 678-0.txt or 678-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/7/678 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/678-0.zip b/678-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a20f2f --- /dev/null +++ b/678-0.zip diff --git a/678-h.zip b/678-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a03e27 --- /dev/null +++ b/678-h.zip diff --git a/678-h/678-h.htm b/678-h/678-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85b99e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/678-h/678-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4041 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Cricket on the Hearth + A Fairy Tale of Home + + +Author: Charles Dickens + + + +Release Date: November 9, 2012 [eBook #678] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the Charles Scribner’s Sons +“Works of Charles Dickens” edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p0b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Frontispiece to The Cricket on the Hearth" +title= +"Frontispiece to The Cricket on the Hearth" +src="images/p0s.jpg" /> +</a></p> + +<h4>There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg collection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in selecting the preferred file.<br />Click on any of the filenumbers below to quickly view each ebook. +</h4> + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/20795/20795-h/20795-h.htm"> +20795</a> </b> </td><td>(Some black and white illustrations) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/37581/37581-h/37581-h.htm"> +37581</a></b></td><td>(Many fine black and white illustrations) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/678/678-h/678-h.htm"> +678</a></b> </td><td>(Not illustrated) +</td></tr> + +</table> + + +<h1>THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH<br /> +A Fairy Tale of Home</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">TO</span><br +/> +LORD JEFFREY<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THIS LITTLE STORY IS INSCRIBED</span><br +/> +<span class="GutSmall">WITH</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE AFFECTION AND ATTACHMENT OF HIS +FRIEND</span></p> +<p style="text-align: right">THE AUTHOR</p> +<p><i>December</i>, 1845</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<h2>CHAPTER I—Chirp the First</h2> +<p>The kettle began it! Don’t tell me what Mrs. +Peerybingle said. I know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may +leave it on record to the end of time that she couldn’t say +which of them began it; but, I say the kettle did. I ought +to know, I hope! The kettle began it, full five minutes by +the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, before the +Cricket uttered a chirp.</p> +<p>As if the clock hadn’t finished striking, and the +convulsive little Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away right +and left with a scythe in front of a Moorish Palace, hadn’t +mowed down half an acre of imaginary grass before the Cricket +joined in at all!</p> +<p>Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one knows +that. I wouldn’t set my own opinion against the +opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, unless I were quite sure, on any +account whatever. Nothing should induce me. But, this +is a question of fact. And the fact is, that the kettle +began it, at least five minutes before the Cricket gave any sign +of being in existence. Contradict me, and I’ll say +ten.</p> +<p>Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should have +proceeded to do so in my very first word, but for this plain +consideration—if I am to tell a story I must begin at the +beginning; and how is it possible to begin at the beginning, +without beginning at the kettle?</p> +<p>It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of +skill, you must understand, between the kettle and the +Cricket. And this is what led to it, and how it came +about.</p> +<p>Mrs. Peerybingle, going out into the raw twilight, and +clicking over the wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked +innumerable rough impressions of the first proposition in Euclid +all about the yard—Mrs. Peerybingle filled the kettle at +the water-butt. Presently returning, less the pattens (and +a good deal less, for they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle was but +short), she set the kettle on the fire. In doing which she +lost her temper, or mislaid it for an instant; for, the water +being uncomfortably cold, and in that slippy, slushy, sleety sort +of state wherein it seems to penetrate through every kind of +substance, patten rings included—had laid hold of Mrs. +Peerybingle’s toes, and even splashed her legs. And +when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) upon our legs, +and keep ourselves particularly neat in point of stockings, we +find this, for the moment, hard to bear.</p> +<p>Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It +wouldn’t allow itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it +wouldn’t hear of accommodating itself kindly to the knobs +of coal; it <i>would</i> lean forward with a drunken air, and +dribble, a very Idiot of a kettle, on the hearth. It was +quarrelsome, and hissed and spluttered morosely at the +fire. To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. +Peerybingle’s fingers, first of all turned topsy-turvy, and +then, with an ingenious pertinacity deserving of a better cause, +dived sideways in—down to the very bottom of the +kettle. And the hull of the Royal George has never made +half the monstrous resistance to coming out of the water, which +the lid of that kettle employed against Mrs. Peerybingle, before +she got it up again.</p> +<p>It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then; carrying +its handle with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly +and mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, ‘I +won’t boil. Nothing shall induce me!’</p> +<p>But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her +chubby little hands against each other, and sat down before the +kettle, laughing. Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and +fell, flashing and gleaming on the little Haymaker at the top of +the Dutch clock, until one might have thought he stood stock +still before the Moorish Palace, and nothing was in motion but +the flame.</p> +<p>He was on the move, however; and had his spasms, two to the +second, all right and regular. But, his sufferings when the +clock was going to strike, were frightful to behold; and, when a +Cuckoo looked out of a trap-door in the Palace, and gave note six +times, it shook him, each time, like a spectral voice—or +like a something wiry, plucking at his legs.</p> +<p>It was not until a violent commotion and a whirring noise +among the weights and ropes below him had quite subsided, that +this terrified Haymaker became himself again. Nor was he +startled without reason; for these rattling, bony skeletons of +clocks are very disconcerting in their operation, and I wonder +very much how any set of men, but most of all how Dutchmen, can +have had a liking to invent them. There is a popular belief +that Dutchmen love broad cases and much clothing for their own +lower selves; and they might know better than to leave their +clocks so very lank and unprotected, surely.</p> +<p>Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the +evening. Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and +musical, began to have irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and +to indulge in short vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as +if it hadn’t quite made up its mind yet, to be good +company. Now it was, that after two or three such vain +attempts to stifle its convivial sentiments, it threw off all +moroseness, all reserve, and burst into a stream of song so cosy +and hilarious, as never maudlin nightingale yet formed the least +idea of.</p> +<p>So plain too! Bless you, you might have understood it +like a book—better than some books you and I could name, +perhaps. With its warm breath gushing forth in a light +cloud which merrily and gracefully ascended a few feet, then hung +about the chimney-corner as its own domestic Heaven, it trolled +its song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, that its iron +body hummed and stirred upon the fire; and the lid itself, the +recently rebellious lid—such is the influence of a bright +example—performed a sort of jig, and clattered like a deaf +and dumb young cymbal that had never known the use of its twin +brother.</p> +<p>That this song of the kettle’s was a song of invitation +and welcome to somebody out of doors: to somebody at that moment +coming on, towards the snug small home and the crisp fire: there +is no doubt whatever. Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, +as she sat musing before the hearth. It’s a dark +night, sang the kettle, and the rotten leaves are lying by the +way; and, above, all is mist and darkness, and, below, all is +mire and clay; and there’s only one relief in all the sad +and murky air; and I don’t know that it is one, for +it’s nothing but a glare; of deep and angry crimson, where +the sun and wind together; set a brand upon the clouds for being +guilty of such weather; and the widest open country is a long +dull streak of black; and there’s hoar-frost on the +finger-post, and thaw upon the track; and the ice it isn’t +water, and the water isn’t free; and you couldn’t say +that anything is what it ought to be; but he’s coming, +coming, coming!—</p> +<p>And here, if you like, the Cricket <span +class="GutSmall">DID</span> chime in! with a Chirrup, Chirrup, +Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice so +astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared with the +kettle; (size! you couldn’t see it!) that if it had then +and there burst itself like an overcharged gun, if it had fallen +a victim on the spot, and chirruped its little body into fifty +pieces, it would have seemed a natural and inevitable +consequence, for which it had expressly laboured.</p> +<p>The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It +persevered with undiminished ardour; but the Cricket took first +fiddle and kept it. Good Heaven, how it chirped! Its +shrill, sharp, piercing voice resounded through the house, and +seemed to twinkle in the outer darkness like a star. There +was an indescribable little trill and tremble in it, at its +loudest, which suggested its being carried off its legs, and made +to leap again, by its own intense enthusiasm. Yet they went +very well together, the Cricket and the kettle. The burden +of the song was still the same; and louder, louder, louder still, +they sang it in their emulation.</p> +<p>The fair little listener—for fair she was, and young: +though something of what is called the dumpling shape; but I +don’t myself object to that—lighted a candle, glanced +at the Haymaker on the top of the clock, who was getting in a +pretty average crop of minutes; and looked out of the window, +where she saw nothing, owing to the darkness, but her own face +imaged in the glass. And my opinion is (and so would yours +have been), that she might have looked a long way, and seen +nothing half so agreeable. When she came back, and sat down +in her former seat, the Cricket and the kettle were still keeping +it up, with a perfect fury of competition. The +kettle’s weak side clearly being, that he didn’t know +when he was beat.</p> +<p>There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, +chirp, chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, +hum—m—m! Kettle making play in the distance, +like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket round +the corner. Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle +sticking to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. +Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, +hum, hum—m—m! Kettle slow and steady. +Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket going in to finish him. +Hum, hum, hum—m—m! Kettle not to be +finished. Until at last they got so jumbled together, in +the hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, of the match, that whether the +kettle chirped and the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and +the kettle hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, it would +have taken a clearer head than yours or mine to have decided with +anything like certainty. But, of this, there is no doubt: +that, the kettle and the Cricket, at one and the same moment, and +by some power of amalgamation best known to themselves, sent, +each, his fireside song of comfort streaming into a ray of the +candle that shone out through the window, and a long way down the +lane. And this light, bursting on a certain person who, on +the instant, approached towards it through the gloom, expressed +the whole thing to him, literally in a twinkling, and cried, +‘Welcome home, old fellow! Welcome home, my +boy!’</p> +<p>This end attained, the kettle, being dead beat, boiled over, +and was taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then went +running to the door, where, what with the wheels of a cart, the +tramp of a horse, the voice of a man, the tearing in and out of +an excited dog, and the surprising and mysterious appearance of a +baby, there was soon the very What’s-his-name to pay.</p> +<p>Where the baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle got hold of +it in that flash of time, <i>I</i> don’t know. But a +live baby there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle’s arms; and a +pretty tolerable amount of pride she seemed to have in it, when +she was drawn gently to the fire, by a sturdy figure of a man, +much taller and much older than herself, who had to stoop a long +way down, to kiss her. But she was worth the trouble. +Six foot six, with the lumbago, might have done it.</p> +<p>‘Oh goodness, John!’ said Mrs. P. +‘What a state you are in with the weather!’</p> +<p>He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The thick +mist hung in clots upon his eyelashes like candied thaw; and +between the fog and fire together, there were rainbows in his +very whiskers.</p> +<p>‘Why, you see, Dot,’ John made answer, slowly, as +he unrolled a shawl from about his throat; and warmed his hands; +‘it—it an’t exactly summer weather. So, +no wonder.’</p> +<p>‘I wish you wouldn’t call me Dot, John. I +don’t like it,’ said Mrs. Peerybingle: pouting in a +way that clearly showed she <i>did</i> like it, very much.</p> +<p>‘Why what else are you?’ returned John, looking +down upon her with a smile, and giving her waist as light a +squeeze as his huge hand and arm could give. ‘A dot +and’—here he glanced at the baby—‘a dot +and carry—I won’t say it, for fear I should spoil it; +but I was very near a joke. I don’t know as ever I +was nearer.’</p> +<p>He was often near to something or other very clever, by his +own account: this lumbering, slow, honest John; this John so +heavy, but so light of spirit; so rough upon the surface, but so +gentle at the core; so dull without, so quick within; so stolid, +but so good! Oh Mother Nature, give thy children the true +poetry of heart that hid itself in this poor Carrier’s +breast—he was but a Carrier by the way—and we can +bear to have them talking prose, and leading lives of prose; and +bear to bless thee for their company!</p> +<p>It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure, and her +baby in her arms: a very doll of a baby: glancing with a +coquettish thoughtfulness at the fire, and inclining her delicate +little head just enough on one side to let it rest in an odd, +half-natural, half-affected, wholly nestling and agreeable +manner, on the great rugged figure of the Carrier. It was +pleasant to see him, with his tender awkwardness, endeavouring to +adapt his rude support to her slight need, and make his burly +middle-age a leaning-staff not inappropriate to her blooming +youth. It was pleasant to observe how Tilly Slowboy, +waiting in the background for the baby, took special cognizance +(though in her earliest teens) of this grouping; and stood with +her mouth and eyes wide open, and her head thrust forward, taking +it in as if it were air. Nor was it less agreeable to +observe how John the Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the +aforesaid baby, checked his hand when on the point of touching +the infant, as if he thought he might crack it; and bending down, +surveyed it from a safe distance, with a kind of puzzled pride, +such as an amiable mastiff might be supposed to show, if he found +himself, one day, the father of a young canary.</p> +<p>‘An’t he beautiful, John? Don’t he +look precious in his sleep?’</p> +<p>‘Very precious,’ said John. ‘Very much +so. He generally <i>is</i> asleep, an’t +he?’</p> +<p>‘Lor, John! Good gracious no!’</p> +<p>‘Oh,’ said John, pondering. ‘I thought +his eyes was generally shut. Halloa!’</p> +<p>‘Goodness, John, how you startle one!’</p> +<p>‘It an’t right for him to turn ’em up in +that way!’ said the astonished Carrier, ‘is it? +See how he’s winking with both of ’em at once! +And look at his mouth! Why he’s gasping like a gold +and silver fish!’</p> +<p>‘You don’t deserve to be a father, you +don’t,’ said Dot, with all the dignity of an +experienced matron. ‘But how should you know what +little complaints children are troubled with, John! You +wouldn’t so much as know their names, you stupid +fellow.’ And when she had turned the baby over on her +left arm, and had slapped its back as a restorative, she pinched +her husband’s ear, laughing.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said John, pulling off his outer coat. +‘It’s very true, Dot. I don’t know much +about it. I only know that I’ve been fighting pretty +stiffly with the wind to-night. It’s been blowing +north-east, straight into the cart, the whole way +home.’</p> +<p>‘Poor old man, so it has!’ cried Mrs. Peerybingle, +instantly becoming very active. ‘Here! Take the +precious darling, Tilly, while I make myself of some use. +Bless it, I could smother it with kissing it, I could! Hie +then, good dog! Hie, Boxer, boy! Only let me make the +tea first, John; and then I’ll help you with the parcels, +like a busy bee. “How doth the +little”—and all the rest of it, you know, John. +Did you ever learn “how doth the little,” when you +went to school, John?’</p> +<p>‘Not to quite know it,’ John returned. +‘I was very near it once. But I should only have +spoilt it, I dare say.’</p> +<p>‘Ha ha,’ laughed Dot. She had the blithest +little laugh you ever heard. ‘What a dear old darling +of a dunce you are, John, to be sure!’</p> +<p>Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see that +the boy with the lantern, which had been dancing to and fro +before the door and window, like a Will of the Wisp, took due +care of the horse; who was fatter than you would quite believe, +if I gave you his measure, and so old that his birthday was lost +in the mists of antiquity. Boxer, feeling that his +attentions were due to the family in general, and must be +impartially distributed, dashed in and out with bewildering +inconstancy; now, describing a circle of short barks round the +horse, where he was being rubbed down at the stable-door; now +feigning to make savage rushes at his mistress, and facetiously +bringing himself to sudden stops; now, eliciting a shriek from +Tilly Slowboy, in the low nursing-chair near the fire, by the +unexpected application of his moist nose to her countenance; now, +exhibiting an obtrusive interest in the baby; now, going round +and round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had +established himself for the night; now, getting up again, and +taking that nothing of a fag-end of a tail of his, out into the +weather, as if he had just remembered an appointment, and was +off, at a round trot, to keep it.</p> +<p>‘There! There’s the teapot, ready on the +hob!’ said Dot; as briskly busy as a child at play at +keeping house. ‘And there’s the old knuckle of +ham; and there’s the butter; and there’s the crusty +loaf, and all! Here’s the clothes-basket for the +small parcels, John, if you’ve got any there—where +are you, John?’</p> +<p>‘Don’t let the dear child fall under the grate, +Tilly, whatever you do!’</p> +<p>It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her rejecting the +caution with some vivacity, that she had a rare and surprising +talent for getting this baby into difficulties and had several +times imperilled its short life, in a quiet way peculiarly her +own. She was of a spare and straight shape, this young +lady, insomuch that her garments appeared to be in constant +danger of sliding off those sharp pegs, her shoulders, on which +they were loosely hung. Her costume was remarkable for the +partial development, on all possible occasions, of some flannel +vestment of a singular structure; also for affording glimpses, in +the region of the back, of a corset, or pair of stays, in colour +a dead-green. Being always in a state of gaping admiration +at everything, and absorbed, besides, in the perpetual +contemplation of her mistress’s perfections and the +baby’s, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of judgment, may +be said to have done equal honour to her head and to her heart; +and though these did less honour to the baby’s head, which +they were the occasional means of bringing into contact with deal +doors, dressers, stair-rails, bed-posts, and other foreign +substances, still they were the honest results of Tilly +Slowboy’s constant astonishment at finding herself so +kindly treated, and installed in such a comfortable home. +For, the maternal and paternal Slowboy were alike unknown to +Fame, and Tilly had been bred by public charity, a foundling; +which word, though only differing from fondling by one +vowel’s length, is very different in meaning, and expresses +quite another thing.</p> +<p>To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with her +husband, tugging at the clothes-basket, and making the most +strenuous exertions to do nothing at all (for he carried it), +would have amused you almost as much as it amused him. It +may have entertained the Cricket too, for anything I know; but, +certainly, it now began to chirp again, vehemently.</p> +<p>‘Heyday!’ said John, in his slow way. +‘It’s merrier than ever, to-night, I +think.’</p> +<p>‘And it’s sure to bring us good fortune, +John! It always has done so. To have a Cricket on the +Hearth, is the luckiest thing in all the world!’</p> +<p>John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the thought +into his head, that she was his Cricket in chief, and he quite +agreed with her. But, it was probably one of his narrow +escapes, for he said nothing.</p> +<p>‘The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, +was on that night when you brought me home—when you brought +me to my new home here; its little mistress. Nearly a year +ago. You recollect, John?’</p> +<p>O yes. John remembered. I should think so!</p> +<p>‘Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so +full of promise and encouragement. It seemed to say, you +would be kind and gentle with me, and would not expect (I had a +fear of that, John, then) to find an old head on the shoulders of +your foolish little wife.’</p> +<p>John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and then the +head, as though he would have said No, no; he had had no such +expectation; he had been quite content to take them as they +were. And really he had reason. They were very +comely.</p> +<p>‘It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say so; for +you have ever been, I am sure, the best, the most considerate, +the most affectionate of husbands to me. This has been a +happy home, John; and I love the Cricket for its sake!’</p> +<p>‘Why so do I then,’ said the Carrier. +‘So do I, Dot.’</p> +<p>‘I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the +many thoughts its harmless music has given me. Sometimes, +in the twilight, when I have felt a little solitary and +down-hearted, John—before baby was here to keep me company +and make the house gay—when I have thought how lonely you +would be if I should die; how lonely I should be if I could know +that you had lost me, dear; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp upon the +hearth, has seemed to tell me of another little voice, so sweet, +so very dear to me, before whose coming sound my trouble vanished +like a dream. And when I used to fear—I did fear +once, John, I was very young you know—that ours might prove +to be an ill-assorted marriage, I being such a child, and you +more like my guardian than my husband; and that you might not, +however hard you tried, be able to learn to love me, as you hoped +and prayed you might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp has cheered me up +again, and filled me with new trust and confidence. I was +thinking of these things to-night, dear, when I sat expecting +you; and I love the Cricket for their sake!’</p> +<p>‘And so do I,’ repeated John. ‘But, +Dot? <i>I</i> hope and pray that I might learn to love +you? How you talk! I had learnt that, long before I +brought you here, to be the Cricket’s little mistress, +Dot!’</p> +<p>She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked up at +him with an agitated face, as if she would have told him +something. Next moment she was down upon her knees before +the basket, speaking in a sprightly voice, and busy with the +parcels.</p> +<p>‘There are not many of them to-night, John, but I saw +some goods behind the cart, just now; and though they give more +trouble, perhaps, still they pay as well; so we have no reason to +grumble, have we? Besides, you have been delivering, I dare +say, as you came along?’</p> +<p>‘Oh yes,’ John said. ‘A good +many.’</p> +<p>‘Why what’s this round box? Heart alive, +John, it’s a wedding-cake!’</p> +<p>‘Leave a woman alone to find out that,’ said John, +admiringly. ‘Now a man would never have thought of +it. Whereas, it’s my belief that if you was to pack a +wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a turn-up bedstead, or a +pickled salmon keg, or any unlikely thing, a woman would be sure +to find it out directly. Yes; I called for it at the +pastry-cook’s.’</p> +<p>‘And it weighs I don’t know what—whole +hundredweights!’ cried Dot, making a great demonstration of +trying to lift it.</p> +<p>‘Whose is it, John? Where is it going?’</p> +<p>‘Read the writing on the other side,’ said +John.</p> +<p>‘Why, John! My Goodness, John!’</p> +<p>‘Ah! who’d have thought it!’ John +returned.</p> +<p>‘You never mean to say,’ pursued Dot, sitting on +the floor and shaking her head at him, ‘that it’s +Gruff and Tackleton the toymaker!’</p> +<p>John nodded.</p> +<p>Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. Not +in assent—in dumb and pitying amazement; screwing up her +lips the while with all their little force (they were never made +for screwing up; I am clear of that), and looking the good +Carrier through and through, in her abstraction. Miss +Slowboy, in the mean time, who had a mechanical power of +reproducing scraps of current conversation for the delectation of +the baby, with all the sense struck out of them, and all the +nouns changed into the plural number, inquired aloud of that +young creature, Was it Gruffs and Tackletons the toymakers then, +and Would it call at Pastry-cooks for wedding-cakes, and Did its +mothers know the boxes when its fathers brought them homes; and +so on.</p> +<p>‘And that is really to come about!’ said +Dot. ‘Why, she and I were girls at school together, +John.’</p> +<p>He might have been thinking of her, or nearly thinking of her, +perhaps, as she was in that same school time. He looked +upon her with a thoughtful pleasure, but he made no answer.</p> +<p>‘And he’s as old! As unlike her!—Why, +how many years older than you, is Gruff and Tackleton, +John?’</p> +<p>‘How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at one +sitting, than Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, I +wonder!’ replied John, good-humouredly, as he drew a chair +to the round table, and began at the cold ham. ‘As to +eating, I eat but little; but that little I enjoy, +Dot.’</p> +<p>Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of his +innocent delusions (for his appetite was always obstinate, and +flatly contradicted him), awoke no smile in the face of his +little wife, who stood among the parcels, pushing the cake-box +slowly from her with her foot, and never once looked, though her +eyes were cast down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally was +so mindful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood there, +heedless alike of the tea and John (although he called to her, +and rapped the table with his knife to startle her), until he +rose and touched her on the arm; when she looked at him for a +moment, and hurried to her place behind the teaboard, laughing at +her negligence. But, not as she had laughed before. +The manner and the music were quite changed.</p> +<p>The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not +so cheerful as it had been. Nothing like it.</p> +<p>‘So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?’ +she said, breaking a long silence, which the honest Carrier had +devoted to the practical illustration of one part of his +favourite sentiment—certainly enjoying what he ate, if it +couldn’t be admitted that he ate but little. +‘So, these are all the parcels; are they, John?’</p> +<p>‘That’s all,’ said John. +‘Why—no—I—’ laying down his knife +and fork, and taking a long breath. ‘I +declare—I’ve clean forgotten the old +gentleman!’</p> +<p>‘The old gentleman?’</p> +<p>‘In the cart,’ said John. ‘He was +asleep, among the straw, the last time I saw him. +I’ve very nearly remembered him, twice, since I came in; +but he went out of my head again. Halloa! Yahip +there! Rouse up! That’s my hearty!’</p> +<p>John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had +hurried with the candle in his hand.</p> +<p>Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference to The +Old Gentleman, and connecting in her mystified imagination +certain associations of a religious nature with the phrase, was +so disturbed, that hastily rising from the low chair by the fire +to seek protection near the skirts of her mistress, and coming +into contact as she crossed the doorway with an ancient Stranger, +she instinctively made a charge or butt at him with the only +offensive instrument within her reach. This instrument +happening to be the baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, which +the sagacity of Boxer rather tended to increase; for, that good +dog, more thoughtful than its master, had, it seemed, been +watching the old gentleman in his sleep, lest he should walk off +with a few young poplar trees that were tied up behind the cart; +and he still attended on him very closely, worrying his gaiters +in fact, and making dead sets at the buttons.</p> +<p>‘You’re such an undeniable good sleeper, +sir,’ said John, when tranquillity was restored; in the +mean time the old gentleman had stood, bareheaded and motionless, +in the centre of the room; ‘that I have half a mind to ask +you where the other six are—only that would be a joke, and +I know I should spoil it. Very near though,’ murmured +the Carrier, with a chuckle; ‘very near!’</p> +<p>The Stranger, who had long white hair, good features, +singularly bold and well defined for an old man, and dark, +bright, penetrating eyes, looked round with a smile, and saluted +the Carrier’s wife by gravely inclining his head.</p> +<p>His garb was very quaint and odd—a long, long way behind +the time. Its hue was brown, all over. In his hand he +held a great brown club or walking-stick; and striking this upon +the floor, it fell asunder, and became a chair. On which he +sat down, quite composedly.</p> +<p>‘There!’ said the Carrier, turning to his +wife. ‘That’s the way I found him, sitting by +the roadside! Upright as a milestone. And almost as +deaf.’</p> +<p>‘Sitting in the open air, John!’</p> +<p>‘In the open air,’ replied the Carrier, +‘just at dusk. “Carriage Paid,” he said; +and gave me eighteenpence. Then he got in. And there +he is.’</p> +<p>‘He’s going, John, I think!’</p> +<p>Not at all. He was only going to speak.</p> +<p>‘If you please, I was to be left till called for,’ +said the Stranger, mildly. ‘Don’t mind +me.’</p> +<p>With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large +pockets, and a book from another, and leisurely began to +read. Making no more of Boxer than if he had been a house +lamb!</p> +<p>The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. +The Stranger raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the +former, said,</p> +<p>‘Your daughter, my good friend?’</p> +<p>‘Wife,’ returned John.</p> +<p>‘Niece?’ said the Stranger.</p> +<p>‘Wife,’ roared John.</p> +<p>‘Indeed?’ observed the Stranger. +‘Surely? Very young!’</p> +<p>He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. But, +before he could have read two lines, he again interrupted himself +to say:</p> +<p>‘Baby, yours?’</p> +<p>John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an answer in the +affirmative, delivered through a speaking trumpet.</p> +<p>‘Girl?’</p> +<p>‘Bo-o-oy!’ roared John.</p> +<p>‘Also very young, eh?’</p> +<p>Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. ‘Two months +and three da-ays! Vaccinated just six weeks ago-o! +Took very fine-ly! Considered, by the doctor, a remarkably +beautiful chi-ild! Equal to the general run of children at +five months o-old! Takes notice, in a way quite +won-der-ful! May seem impossible to you, but feels his legs +al-ready!’</p> +<p>Here the breathless little mother, who had been shrieking +these short sentences into the old man’s ear, until her +pretty face was crimsoned, held up the Baby before him as a +stubborn and triumphant fact; while Tilly Slowboy, with a +melodious cry of ‘Ketcher, Ketcher’—which +sounded like some unknown words, adapted to a popular +Sneeze—performed some cow-like gambols round that all +unconscious Innocent.</p> +<p>‘Hark! He’s called for, sure enough,’ +said John. ‘There’s somebody at the door. +Open it, Tilly.’</p> +<p>Before she could reach it, however, it was opened from +without; being a primitive sort of door, with a latch, that any +one could lift if he chose—and a good many people did +choose, for all kinds of neighbours liked to have a cheerful word +or two with the Carrier, though he was no great talker +himself. Being opened, it gave admission to a little, +meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, who seemed to have made +himself a great-coat from the sack-cloth covering of some old +box; for, when he turned to shut the door, and keep the weather +out, he disclosed upon the back of that garment, the inscription +G & T in large black capitals. Also the word GLASS in +bold characters.</p> +<p>‘Good evening, John!’ said the little man. +‘Good evening, Mum. Good evening, Tilly. Good +evening, Unbeknown! How’s Baby, Mum? +Boxer’s pretty well I hope?’</p> +<p>‘All thriving, Caleb,’ replied Dot. ‘I +am sure you need only look at the dear child, for one, to know +that.’</p> +<p>‘And I’m sure I need only look at you for +another,’ said Caleb.</p> +<p>He didn’t look at her though; he had a wandering and +thoughtful eye which seemed to be always projecting itself into +some other time and place, no matter what he said; a description +which will equally apply to his voice.</p> +<p>‘Or at John for another,’ said Caleb. +‘Or at Tilly, as far as that goes. Or certainly at +Boxer.’</p> +<p>‘Busy just now, Caleb?’ asked the Carrier.</p> +<p>‘Why, pretty well, John,’ he returned, with the +distraught air of a man who was casting about for the +Philosopher’s stone, at least. ‘Pretty much +so. There’s rather a run on Noah’s Arks at +present. I could have wished to improve upon the Family, +but I don’t see how it’s to be done at the +price. It would be a satisfaction to one’s mind, to +make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was +Wives. Flies an’t on that scale neither, as compared +with elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got +anything in the parcel line for me, John?’</p> +<p>The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had +taken off; and brought out, carefully preserved in moss and +paper, a tiny flower-pot.</p> +<p>‘There it is!’ he said, adjusting it with great +care. ‘Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of +buds!’</p> +<p>Caleb’s dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked +him.</p> +<p>‘Dear, Caleb,’ said the Carrier. ‘Very +dear at this season.’</p> +<p>‘Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, +whatever it cost,’ returned the little man. +‘Anything else, John?’</p> +<p>‘A small box,’ replied the Carrier. +‘Here you are!’</p> +<p>‘“For Caleb Plummer,”’ said the little +man, spelling out the direction. ‘“With +Cash.” With Cash, John? I don’t think +it’s for me.’</p> +<p>‘With Care,’ returned the Carrier, looking over +his shoulder. ‘Where do you make out cash?’</p> +<p>‘Oh! To be sure!’ said Caleb. +‘It’s all right. With care! Yes, yes; +that’s mine. It might have been with cash, indeed, if +my dear Boy in the Golden South Americas had lived, John. +You loved him like a son; didn’t you? You +needn’t say you did. <i>I</i> know, of course. +“Caleb Plummer. With care.” Yes, yes, +it’s all right. It’s a box of dolls’ eyes +for my daughter’s work. I wish it was her own sight +in a box, John.’</p> +<p>‘I wish it was, or could be!’ cried the +Carrier.</p> +<p>‘Thank’ee,’ said the little man. +‘You speak very hearty. To think that she should +never see the Dolls—and them a-staring at her, so bold, all +day long! That’s where it cuts. What’s +the damage, John?’</p> +<p>‘I’ll damage you,’ said John, ‘if you +inquire. Dot! Very near?’</p> +<p>‘Well! it’s like you to say so,’ observed +the little man. ‘It’s your kind way. Let +me see. I think that’s all.’</p> +<p>‘I think not,’ said the Carrier. ‘Try +again.’</p> +<p>‘Something for our Governor, eh?’ said Caleb, +after pondering a little while. ‘To be sure. +That’s what I came for; but my head’s so running on +them Arks and things! He hasn’t been here, has +he?’</p> +<p>‘Not he,’ returned the Carrier. +‘He’s too busy, courting.’</p> +<p>‘He’s coming round though,’ said Caleb; +‘for he told me to keep on the near side of the road going +home, and it was ten to one he’d take me up. I had +better go, by the bye.—You couldn’t have the goodness +to let me pinch Boxer’s tail, Mum, for half a moment, could +you?’</p> +<p>‘Why, Caleb! what a question!’</p> +<p>‘Oh never mind, Mum,’ said the little man. +‘He mightn’t like it perhaps. There’s a +small order just come in, for barking dogs; and I should wish to +go as close to Natur’ as I could, for sixpence. +That’s all. Never mind, Mum.’</p> +<p>It happened opportunely, that Boxer, without receiving the +proposed stimulus, began to bark with great zeal. But, as +this implied the approach of some new visitor, Caleb, postponing +his study from the life to a more convenient season, shouldered +the round box, and took a hurried leave. He might have +spared himself the trouble, for he met the visitor upon the +threshold.</p> +<p>‘Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a +bit. I’ll take you home. John Peerybingle, my +service to you. More of my service to your pretty +wife. Handsomer every day! Better too, if +possible! And younger,’ mused the speaker, in a low +voice; ‘that’s the Devil of it!’</p> +<p>‘I should be astonished at your paying compliments, Mr. +Tackleton,’ said Dot, not with the best grace in the world; +‘but for your condition.’</p> +<p>‘You know all about it then?’</p> +<p>‘I have got myself to believe it, somehow,’ said +Dot.</p> +<p>‘After a hard struggle, I suppose?’</p> +<p>‘Very.’</p> +<p>Tackleton the Toy-merchant, pretty generally known as Gruff +and Tackleton—for that was the firm, though Gruff had been +bought out long ago; only leaving his name, and as some said his +nature, according to its Dictionary meaning, in the +business—Tackleton the Toy-merchant, was a man whose +vocation had been quite misunderstood by his Parents and +Guardians. If they had made him a Money Lender, or a sharp +Attorney, or a Sheriff’s Officer, or a Broker, he might +have sown his discontented oats in his youth, and, after having +had the full run of himself in ill-natured transactions, might +have turned out amiable, at last, for the sake of a little +freshness and novelty. But, cramped and chafing in the +peaceable pursuit of toy-making, he was a domestic Ogre, who had +been living on children all his life, and was their implacable +enemy. He despised all toys; wouldn’t have bought one +for the world; delighted, in his malice, to insinuate grim +expressions into the faces of brown-paper farmers who drove pigs +to market, bellmen who advertised lost lawyers’ +consciences, movable old ladies who darned stockings or carved +pies; and other like samples of his stock in trade. In +appalling masks; hideous, hairy, red-eyed Jacks in Boxes; Vampire +Kites; demoniacal Tumblers who wouldn’t lie down, and were +perpetually flying forward, to stare infants out of countenance; +his soul perfectly revelled. They were his only relief, and +safety-valve. He was great in such inventions. +Anything suggestive of a Pony-nightmare was delicious to +him. He had even lost money (and he took to that toy very +kindly) by getting up Goblin slides for magic-lanterns, whereon +the Powers of Darkness were depicted as a sort of supernatural +shell-fish, with human faces. In intensifying the +portraiture of Giants, he had sunk quite a little capital; and, +though no painter himself, he could indicate, for the instruction +of his artists, with a piece of chalk, a certain furtive leer for +the countenances of those monsters, which was safe to destroy the +peace of mind of any young gentleman between the ages of six and +eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer Vacation.</p> +<p>What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other +things. You may easily suppose, therefore, that within the +great green cape, which reached down to the calves of his legs, +there was buttoned up to the chin an uncommonly pleasant fellow; +and that he was about as choice a spirit, and as agreeable a +companion, as ever stood in a pair of bull-headed-looking boots +with mahogany-coloured tops.</p> +<p>Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be +married. In spite of all this, he was going to be +married. And to a young wife too, a beautiful young +wife.</p> +<p>He didn’t look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in +the Carrier’s kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a +screw in his body, and his hat jerked over the bridge of his +nose, and his hands tucked down into the bottoms of his pockets, +and his whole sarcastic ill-conditioned self peering out of one +little corner of one little eye, like the concentrated essence of +any number of ravens. But, a Bridegroom he designed to +be.</p> +<p>‘In three days’ time. Next Thursday. +The last day of the first month in the year. That’s +my wedding-day,’ said Tackleton.</p> +<p>Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one +eye nearly shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the +expressive eye? I don’t think I did.</p> +<p>‘That’s my wedding-day!’ said Tackleton, +rattling his money.</p> +<p>‘Why, it’s our wedding-day too,’ exclaimed +the Carrier.</p> +<p>‘Ha ha!’ laughed Tackleton. +‘Odd! You’re just such another couple. +Just!’</p> +<p>The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion is not +to be described. What next? His imagination would +compass the possibility of just such another Baby, perhaps. +The man was mad.</p> +<p>‘I say! A word with you,’ murmured +Tackleton, nudging the Carrier with his elbow, and taking him a +little apart. ‘You’ll come to the +wedding? We’re in the same boat, you know.’</p> +<p>‘How in the same boat?’ inquired the Carrier.</p> +<p>‘A little disparity, you know,’ said Tackleton, +with another nudge. ‘Come and spend an evening with +us, beforehand.’</p> +<p>‘Why?’ demanded John, astonished at this pressing +hospitality.</p> +<p>‘Why?’ returned the other. +‘That’s a new way of receiving an invitation. +Why, for pleasure—sociability, you know, and all +that!’</p> +<p>‘I thought you were never sociable,’ said John, in +his plain way.</p> +<p>‘Tchah! It’s of no use to be anything but +free with you, I see,’ said Tackleton. ‘Why, +then, the truth is you have a—what tea-drinking people call +a sort of a comfortable appearance together, you and your +wife. We know better, you know, but—’</p> +<p>‘No, we don’t know better,’ interposed +John. ‘What are you talking about?’</p> +<p>‘Well! We <i>don’t</i> know better, +then,’ said Tackleton. ‘We’ll agree that +we don’t. As you like; what does it matter? I +was going to say, as you have that sort of appearance, your +company will produce a favourable effect on Mrs. Tackleton that +will be. And, though I don’t think your good +lady’s very friendly to me, in this matter, still she +can’t help herself from falling into my views, for +there’s a compactness and cosiness of appearance about her +that always tells, even in an indifferent case. +You’ll say you’ll come?’</p> +<p>‘We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as far as +that goes) at home,’ said John. ‘We have made +the promise to ourselves these six months. We think, you +see, that home—’</p> +<p>‘Bah! what’s home?’ cried Tackleton. +‘Four walls and a ceiling! (why don’t you kill that +Cricket? <i>I</i> would! I always do. I hate +their noise.) There are four walls and a ceiling at my +house. Come to me!’</p> +<p>‘You kill your Crickets, eh?’ said John.</p> +<p>‘Scrunch ’em, sir,’ returned the other, +setting his heel heavily on the floor. ‘You’ll +say you’ll come? It’s as much your interest as mine, +you know, that the women should persuade each other that +they’re quiet and contented, and couldn’t be better +off. I know their way. Whatever one woman says, +another woman is determined to clinch, always. +There’s that spirit of emulation among ’em, sir, that +if your wife says to my wife, “I’m the happiest woman +in the world, and mine’s the best husband in the world, and +I dote on him,” my wife will say the same to yours, or +more, and half believe it.’</p> +<p>‘Do you mean to say she don’t, then?’ asked +the Carrier.</p> +<p>‘Don’t!’ cried Tackleton, with a short, +sharp laugh. ‘Don’t what?’</p> +<p>The Carrier had some faint idea of adding, ‘dote upon +you.’ But, happening to meet the half-closed eye, as +it twinkled upon him over the turned-up collar of the cape, which +was within an ace of poking it out, he felt it such an unlikely +part and parcel of anything to be doted on, that he substituted, +‘that she don’t believe it?’</p> +<p>‘Ah you dog! You’re joking,’ said +Tackleton.</p> +<p>But the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of +his meaning, eyed him in such a serious manner, that he was +obliged to be a little more explanatory.</p> +<p>‘I have the humour,’ said Tackleton: holding up +the fingers of his left hand, and tapping the forefinger, to +imply ‘there I am, Tackleton to wit:’ ‘I have +the humour, sir, to marry a young wife, and a pretty wife:’ +here he rapped his little finger, to express the Bride; not +sparingly, but sharply; with a sense of power. +‘I’m able to gratify that humour and I do. +It’s my whim. But—now look there!’</p> +<p>He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, before the +fire; leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, and watching the +bright blaze. The Carrier looked at her, and then at him, +and then at her, and then at him again.</p> +<p>‘She honours and obeys, no doubt, you know,’ said +Tackleton; ‘and that, as I am not a man of sentiment, is +quite enough for <i>me</i>. But do you think there’s +anything more in it?’</p> +<p>‘I think,’ observed the Carrier, ‘that I +should chuck any man out of window, who said there +wasn’t.’</p> +<p>‘Exactly so,’ returned the other with an unusual +alacrity of assent. ‘To be sure! Doubtless you +would. Of course. I’m certain of it. Good +night. Pleasant dreams!’</p> +<p>The Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable and uncertain, +in spite of himself. He couldn’t help showing it, in +his manner.</p> +<p>‘Good night, my dear friend!’ said Tackleton, +compassionately. ‘I’m off. We’re +exactly alike, in reality, I see. You won’t give us +to-morrow evening? Well! Next day you go out +visiting, I know. I’ll meet you there, and bring my +wife that is to be. It’ll do her good. +You’re agreeable? Thank’ee. What’s +that!’</p> +<p>It was a loud cry from the Carrier’s wife: a loud, +sharp, sudden cry, that made the room ring, like a glass +vessel. She had risen from her seat, and stood like one +transfixed by terror and surprise. The Stranger had +advanced towards the fire to warm himself, and stood within a +short stride of her chair. But quite still.</p> +<p>‘Dot!’ cried the Carrier. ‘Mary! +Darling! What’s the matter?’</p> +<p>They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been +dozing on the cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his +suspended presence of mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of +her head, but immediately apologised.</p> +<p>‘Mary!’ exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in +his arms. ‘Are you ill! What is it? Tell +me, dear!’</p> +<p>She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling +into a wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp +upon the ground, she covered her face with her apron, and wept +bitterly. And then she laughed again, and then she cried +again, and then she said how cold it was, and suffered him to +lead her to the fire, where she sat down as before. The old +man standing, as before, quite still.</p> +<p>‘I’m better, John,’ she said. +‘I’m quite well now—I—’</p> +<p>‘John!’ But John was on the other side of +her. Why turn her face towards the strange old gentleman, +as if addressing him! Was her brain wandering?</p> +<p>‘Only a fancy, John dear—a kind of shock—a +something coming suddenly before my eyes—I don’t know +what it was. It’s quite gone, quite gone.’</p> +<p>‘I’m glad it’s gone,’ muttered +Tackleton, turning the expressive eye all round the room. +‘I wonder where it’s gone, and what it was. +Humph! Caleb, come here! Who’s that with the +grey hair?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know, sir,’ returned Caleb in a +whisper. ‘Never see him before, in all my life. +A beautiful figure for a nut-cracker; quite a new model. +With a screw-jaw opening down into his waistcoat, he’d be +lovely.’</p> +<p>‘Not ugly enough,’ said Tackleton.</p> +<p>‘Or for a firebox, either,’ observed Caleb, in +deep contemplation, ‘what a model! Unscrew his head +to put the matches in; turn him heels up’ards for the +light; and what a firebox for a gentleman’s mantel-shelf, +just as he stands!’</p> +<p>‘Not half ugly enough,’ said Tackleton. +‘Nothing in him at all! Come! Bring that +box! All right now, I hope?’</p> +<p>‘Oh quite gone! Quite gone!!’ said the little woman, waving him +hurriedly away. ‘Good night!’</p> +<p>‘Good night,’ said Tackleton. ‘Good +night, John Peerybingle! Take care how you carry that box, +Caleb. Let it fall, and I’ll murder you! Dark +as pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good +night!’</p> +<p>So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the +door; followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head.</p> +<p>The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little wife, and +so busily engaged in soothing and tending her, that he had +scarcely been conscious of the Stranger’s presence, until +now, when he again stood there, their only guest.</p> +<p>‘He don’t belong to them, you see,’ said +John. ‘I must give him a hint to go.’</p> +<p>‘I beg your pardon, friend,’ said the old +gentleman, advancing to him; ‘the more so, as I fear your +wife has not been well; but the Attendant whom my +infirmity,’ he touched his ears and shook his head, +‘renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, I fear +there must be some mistake. The bad night which made the +shelter of your comfortable cart (may I never have a worse!) so +acceptable, is still as bad as ever. Would you, in your +kindness, suffer me to rent a bed here?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes,’ cried Dot. ‘Yes! +Certainly!’</p> +<p>‘Oh!’ said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity +of this consent.</p> +<p>‘Well! I don’t object; but, still I’m +not quite sure that—’</p> +<p>‘Hush!’ she interrupted. ‘Dear +John!’</p> +<p>‘Why, he’s stone deaf,’ urged John.</p> +<p>‘I know he is, but—Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! +certainly! I’ll make him up a bed, directly, +John.’</p> +<p>As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and +the agitation of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier +stood looking after her, quite confounded.</p> +<p>‘Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!’ cried +Miss Slowboy to the Baby; ‘and did its hair grow brown and +curly, when its caps was lifted off, and frighten it, a precious +Pets, a-sitting by the fires!’</p> +<p>With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, +which is often incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the +Carrier as he walked slowly to and fro, found himself mentally +repeating even these absurd words, many times. So many +times that he got them by heart, and was still conning them over +and over, like a lesson, when Tilly, after administering as much +friction to the little bald head with her hand as she thought +wholesome (according to the practice of nurses), had once more +tied the Baby’s cap on.</p> +<p>‘And frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the +fires. What frightened Dot, I wonder!’ mused the +Carrier, pacing to and fro.</p> +<p>He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the +Toy-merchant, and yet they filled him with a vague, indefinite +uneasiness. For, Tackleton was quick and sly; and he had +that painful sense, himself, of being a man of slow perception, that a +broken hint was always worrying to him. He certainly had no +intention in his mind of linking anything that Tackleton had +said, with the unusual conduct of his wife, but the two subjects +of reflection came into his mind together, and he could not keep +them asunder.</p> +<p>The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, declining all +refreshment but a cup of tea, retired. Then, +Dot—quite well again, she said, quite well +again—arranged the great chair in the chimney-corner for +her husband; filled his pipe and gave it him; and took her usual +little stool beside him on the hearth.</p> +<p>She always <i>would</i> sit on that little stool. I +think she must have had a kind of notion that it was a coaxing, +wheedling little stool.</p> +<p>She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I should +say, in the four quarters of the globe. To see her put that +chubby little finger in the bowl, and then blow down the pipe to +clear the tube, and, when she had done so, affect to think that +there was really something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, +and hold it to her eye like a telescope, with a most provoking +twist in her capital little face, as she looked down it, was +quite a brilliant thing. As to the tobacco, she was perfect +mistress of the subject; and her lighting of the pipe, with a +wisp of paper, when the Carrier had it in his mouth—going +so very near his nose, and yet not scorching it—was Art, +high Art.</p> +<p>And the Cricket and the kettle, turning up again, acknowledged +it! The bright fire, blazing up again, acknowledged +it! The little Mower on the clock, in his unheeded work, +acknowledged it! The Carrier, in his smoothing forehead and +expanding face, acknowledged it, the readiest of all.</p> +<p>And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed at his old pipe, and +as the Dutch clock ticked, and as the red fire gleamed, and as +the Cricket chirped; that Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such +the Cricket was) came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and +summoned many forms of Home about him. Dots of all ages, +and all sizes, filled the chamber. Dots who were merry +children, running on before him gathering flowers, in the fields; +coy Dots, half shrinking from, half yielding to, the pleading of +his own rough image; newly-married Dots, alighting at the door, +and taking wondering possession of the household keys; motherly +little Dots, attended by fictitious Slowboys, bearing babies to +be christened; matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching +Dots of daughters, as they danced at rustic balls; fat Dots, +encircled and beset by troops of rosy grandchildren; withered +Dots, who leaned on sticks, and tottered as they crept +along. Old Carriers too, appeared, with blind old Boxers +lying at their feet; and newer carts with younger drivers +(‘Peerybingle Brothers’ on the tilt); and sick old +Carriers, tended by the gentlest hands; and graves of dead and +gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. And as the +Cricket showed him all these things—he saw them plainly, +though his eyes were fixed upon the fire—the +Carrier’s heart grew light and happy, and he thanked his +Household Gods with all his might, and cared no more for Gruff +and Tackleton than you do.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>But, what was that young figure of a man, which the same Fairy +Cricket set so near Her stool, and which remained there, singly +and alone? Why did it linger still, so near her, with its +arm upon the chimney-piece, ever repeating ‘Married! and +not to me!’</p> +<p>O Dot! O failing Dot! There is no place for it in +all your husband’s visions; why has its shadow fallen on +his hearth!</p> +<h2>CHAPTER II—Chirp the Second</h2> +<p>Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by +themselves, as the Story-books say—and my blessing, with +yours to back it I hope, on the Story-books, for saying anything +in this workaday world!—Caleb Plummer and his Blind +Daughter lived all alone by themselves, in a little cracked +nutshell of a wooden house, which was, in truth, no better than a +pimple on the prominent red-brick nose of Gruff and +Tackleton. The premises of Gruff and Tackleton were the +great feature of the street; but you might have knocked down +Caleb Plummer’s dwelling with a hammer or two, and carried +off the pieces in a cart.</p> +<p>If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb Plummer the +honour to miss it after such an inroad, it would have been, no +doubt, to commend its demolition as a vast improvement. It +stuck to the premises of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to +a ship’s keel, or a snail to a door, or a little bunch of +toadstools to the stem of a tree.</p> +<p>But, it was the germ from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff +and Tackleton had sprung; and, under its crazy roof, the Gruff +before last, had, in a small way, made toys for a generation of +old boys and girls, who had played with them, and found them out, +and broken them, and gone to sleep.</p> +<p>I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter lived +here. I should have said that Caleb lived here, and his +poor Blind Daughter somewhere else—in an enchanted home of +Caleb’s furnishing, where scarcity and shabbiness were not, +and trouble never entered. Caleb was no sorcerer, but in +the only magic art that still remains to us, the magic of +devoted, deathless love, Nature had been the mistress of his +study; and from her teaching, all the wonder came.</p> +<p>The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discoloured, +walls blotched and bare of plaster here and there, high crevices +unstopped and widening every day, beams mouldering and tending +downward. The Blind Girl never knew that iron was rusting, +wood rotting, paper peeling off; the size, and shape, and true +proportion of the dwelling, withering away. The Blind Girl +never knew that ugly shapes of delf and earthenware were on the +board; that sorrow and faintheartedness were in the house; that +Caleb’s scanty hairs were turning greyer and more grey, +before her sightless face. The Blind Girl never knew they +had a master, cold, exacting, and uninterested—never knew +that Tackleton was Tackleton in short; but lived in the belief of +an eccentric humourist who loved to have his jest with them, and +who, while he was the Guardian Angel of their lives, disdained to +hear one word of thankfulness.</p> +<p>And all was Caleb’s doing; all the doing of her simple +father! But he too had a Cricket on his Hearth; and +listening sadly to its music when the motherless Blind Child was +very young, that Spirit had inspired him with the thought that +even her great deprivation might be almost changed into a +blessing, and the girl made happy by these little means. +For all the Cricket tribe are potent Spirits, even though the +people who hold converse with them do not know it (which is +frequently the case); and there are not in the unseen world, +voices more gentle and more true, that may be so implicitly +relied on, or that are so certain to give none but tenderest +counsel, as the Voices in which the Spirits of the Fireside and +the Hearth address themselves to human kind.</p> +<p>Caleb and his daughter were at work together in their usual +working-room, which served them for their ordinary living-room as +well; and a strange place it was. There were houses in it, +finished and unfinished, for Dolls of all stations in life. +Suburban tenements for Dolls of moderate means; kitchens and +single apartments for Dolls of the lower classes; capital town +residences for Dolls of high estate. Some of these +establishments were already furnished according to estimate, with +a view to the convenience of Dolls of limited income; others +could be fitted on the most expensive scale, at a moment’s +notice, from whole shelves of chairs and tables, sofas, +bedsteads, and upholstery. The nobility and gentry, and +public in general, for whose accommodation these tenements were +designed, lay, here and there, in baskets, staring straight up at +the ceiling; but, in denoting their degrees in society, and +confining them to their respective stations (which experience +shows to be lamentably difficult in real life), the makers of +these Dolls had far improved on Nature, who is often froward and +perverse; for, they, not resting on such arbitrary marks as +satin, cotton-print, and bits of rag, had superadded striking +personal differences which allowed of no mistake. Thus, the +Doll-lady of distinction had wax limbs of perfect symmetry; but +only she and her compeers. The next grade in the social +scale being made of leather, and the next of coarse linen +stuff. As to the common-people, they had just so many +matches out of tinder-boxes, for their arms and legs, and there +they were—established in their sphere at once, beyond the +possibility of getting out of it.</p> +<p>There were various other samples of his handicraft, besides +Dolls, in Caleb Plummer’s room. There were +Noah’s Arks, in which the Birds and Beasts were an +uncommonly tight fit, I assure you; though they could be crammed +in, anyhow, at the roof, and rattled and shaken into the smallest +compass. By a bold poetical licence, most of these +Noah’s Arks had knockers on the doors; inconsistent +appendages, perhaps, as suggestive of morning callers and a +Postman, yet a pleasant finish to the outside of the +building. There were scores of melancholy little carts, +which, when the wheels went round, performed most doleful +music. Many small fiddles, drums, and other instruments of +torture; no end of cannon, shields, swords, spears, and +guns. There were little tumblers in red breeches, +incessantly swarming up high obstacles of red-tape, and coming +down, head first, on the other side; and there were innumerable +old gentlemen of respectable, not to say venerable, appearance, +insanely flying over horizontal pegs, inserted, for the purpose, +in their own street doors. There were beasts of all sorts; +horses, in particular, of every breed, from the spotted barrel on +four pegs, with a small tippet for a mane, to the thoroughbred +rocker on his highest mettle. As it would have been hard to +count the dozens upon dozens of grotesque figures that were ever +ready to commit all sorts of absurdities on the turning of a +handle, so it would have been no easy task to mention any human +folly, vice, or weakness, that had not its type, immediate or +remote, in Caleb Plummer’s room. And not in an +exaggerated form, for very little handles will move men and women +to as strange performances, as any Toy was ever made to +undertake.</p> +<p>In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his daughter sat +at work. The Blind Girl busy as a Doll’s dressmaker; +Caleb painting and glazing the four-pair front of a desirable +family mansion.</p> +<p>The care imprinted in the lines of Caleb’s face, and his +absorbed and dreamy manner, which would have sat well on some +alchemist or abstruse student, were at first sight an odd +contrast to his occupation, and the trivialities about him. +But, trivial things, invented and pursued for bread, become very +serious matters of fact; and, apart from this consideration, I am +not at all prepared to say, myself, that if Caleb had been a Lord +Chamberlain, or a Member of Parliament, or a lawyer, or even a +great speculator, he would have dealt in toys one whit less +whimsical, while I have a very great doubt whether they would +have been as harmless.</p> +<p>‘So you were out in the rain last night, father, in your +beautiful new great-coat,’ said Caleb’s daughter.</p> +<p>‘In my beautiful new great-coat,’ answered Caleb, +glancing towards a clothes-line in the room, on which the +sack-cloth garment previously described, was carefully hung up to +dry.</p> +<p>‘How glad I am you bought it, father!’</p> +<p>‘And of such a tailor, too,’ said Caleb. +‘Quite a fashionable tailor. It’s too good for +me.’</p> +<p>The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed with +delight.</p> +<p>‘Too good, father! What can be too good for +you?’</p> +<p>‘I’m half-ashamed to wear it though,’ said +Caleb, watching the effect of what he said, upon her brightening +face; ‘upon my word! When I hear the boys and people +say behind me, “Hal-loa! Here’s a +swell!” I don’t know which way to look. +And when the beggar wouldn’t go away last night; and when I +said I was a very common man, said “No, your Honour! +Bless your Honour, don’t say that!” I was quite +ashamed. I really felt as if I hadn’t a right to wear +it.’</p> +<p>Happy Blind Girl! How merry she was, in her +exultation!</p> +<p>‘I see you, father,’ she said, clasping her hands, +‘as plainly, as if I had the eyes I never want when you are +with me. A blue coat—’</p> +<p>‘Bright blue,’ said Caleb.</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes! Bright blue!’ exclaimed the girl, +turning up her radiant face; ‘the colour I can just +remember in the blessed sky! You told me it was blue +before! A bright blue coat—’</p> +<p>‘Made loose to the figure,’ suggested Caleb.</p> +<p>‘Made loose to the figure!’ cried the Blind Girl, +laughing heartily; ‘and in it, you, dear father, with your +merry eye, your smiling face, your free step, and your dark +hair—looking so young and handsome!’</p> +<p>‘Halloa! Halloa!’ said Caleb. ‘I +shall be vain, presently!’</p> +<p>‘I think you are, already,’ cried the Blind Girl, +pointing at him, in her glee. ‘I know you, +father! Ha, ha, ha! I’ve found you out, you +see!’</p> +<p>How different the picture in her mind, from Caleb, as he sat +observing her! She had spoken of his free step. She +was right in that. For years and years, he had never once +crossed that threshold at his own slow pace, but with a footfall +counterfeited for her ear; and never had he, when his heart was +heaviest, forgotten the light tread that was to render hers so +cheerful and courageous!</p> +<p>Heaven knows! But I think Caleb’s vague +bewilderment of manner may have half originated in his having +confused himself about himself and everything around him, for the +love of his Blind Daughter. How could the little man be +otherwise than bewildered, after labouring for so many years to +destroy his own identity, and that of all the objects that had +any bearing on it!</p> +<p>‘There we are,’ said Caleb, falling back a pace or +two to form the better judgment of his work; ‘as near the +real thing as sixpenn’orth of halfpence is to +sixpence. What a pity that the whole front of the house +opens at once! If there was only a staircase in it, now, +and regular doors to the rooms to go in at! But +that’s the worst of my calling, I’m always deluding +myself, and swindling myself.’</p> +<p>‘You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired, +father?’</p> +<p>‘Tired!’ echoed Caleb, with a great burst of +animation, ‘what should tire me, Bertha? <i>I</i> was +never tired. What does it mean?’</p> +<p>To give the greater force to his words, he checked himself in +an involuntary imitation of two half-length stretching and +yawning figures on the mantel-shelf, who were represented as in +one eternal state of weariness from the waist upwards; and hummed +a fragment of a song. It was a Bacchanalian song, something +about a Sparkling Bowl. He sang it with an assumption of a +Devil-may-care voice, that made his face a thousand times more +meagre and more thoughtful than ever.</p> +<p>‘What! You’re singing, are you?’ said +Tackleton, putting his head in at the door. ‘Go +it! <i>I</i> can’t sing.’</p> +<p>Nobody would have suspected him of it. He hadn’t +what is generally termed a singing face, by any means.</p> +<p>‘I can’t afford to sing,’ said +Tackleton. ‘I’m glad <i>you can</i>. I +hope you can afford to work too. Hardly time for both, I +should think?’</p> +<p>‘If you could only see him, Bertha, how he’s +winking at me!’ whispered Caleb. ‘Such a man to +joke! you’d think, if you didn’t know him, he was in +earnest—wouldn’t you now?’</p> +<p>The Blind Girl smiled and nodded.</p> +<p>‘The bird that can sing and won’t sing, must be +made to sing, they say,’ grumbled Tackleton. +‘What about the owl that can’t sing, and +oughtn’t to sing, and will sing; is there anything that +<i>he</i> should be made to do?’</p> +<p>‘The extent to which he’s winking at this +moment!’ whispered Caleb to his daughter. ‘O, +my gracious!’</p> +<p>‘Always merry and light-hearted with us!’ cried +the smiling Bertha.</p> +<p>‘O, you’re there, are you?’ answered +Tackleton. ‘Poor Idiot!’</p> +<p>He really did believe she was an Idiot; and he founded the +belief, I can’t say whether consciously or not, upon her +being fond of him.</p> +<p>‘Well! and being there,—how are you?’ said +Tackleton, in his grudging way.</p> +<p>‘Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even you +can wish me to be. As happy as you would make the whole +world, if you could!’</p> +<p>‘Poor Idiot!’ muttered Tackleton. ‘No +gleam of reason. Not a gleam!’</p> +<p>The Blind Girl took his hand and kissed it; held it for a +moment in her own two hands; and laid her cheek against it +tenderly, before releasing it. There was such unspeakable +affection and such fervent gratitude in the act, that Tackleton +himself was moved to say, in a milder growl than usual:</p> +<p>‘What’s the matter now?’</p> +<p>‘I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to sleep +last night, and remembered it in my dreams. And when the +day broke, and the glorious red sun—the <i>red</i> sun, +father?’</p> +<p>‘Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha,’ +said poor Caleb, with a woeful glance at his employer.</p> +<p>‘When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear to +strike myself against in walking, came into the room, I turned +the little tree towards it, and blessed Heaven for making things +so precious, and blessed you for sending them to cheer +me!’</p> +<p>‘Bedlam broke loose!’ said Tackleton under his +breath. ‘We shall arrive at the strait-waistcoat and +mufflers soon. We’re getting on!’</p> +<p>Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, stared +vacantly before him while his daughter spoke, as if he really +were uncertain (I believe he was) whether Tackleton had done +anything to deserve her thanks, or not. If he could have +been a perfectly free agent, at that moment, required, on pain of +death, to kick the Toy-merchant, or fall at his feet, according +to his merits, I believe it would have been an even chance which +course he would have taken. Yet, Caleb knew that with his +own hands he had brought the little rose-tree home for her, so +carefully, and that with his own lips he had forged the innocent +deception which should help to keep her from suspecting how much, +how very much, he every day, denied himself, that she might be +the happier.</p> +<p>‘Bertha!’ said Tackleton, assuming, for the nonce, +a little cordiality. ‘Come here.’</p> +<p>‘Oh! I can come straight to you! You +needn’t guide me!’ she rejoined.</p> +<p>‘Shall I tell you a secret, Bertha?’</p> +<p>‘If you will!’ she answered, eagerly.</p> +<p>How bright the darkened face! How adorned with light, +the listening head!</p> +<p>‘This is the day on which little what’s-her-name, +the spoilt child, Peerybingle’s wife, pays her regular +visit to you—makes her fantastic Pic-Nic here; an’t +it?’ said Tackleton, with a strong expression of distaste +for the whole concern.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ replied Bertha. ‘This is the +day.’</p> +<p>‘I thought so,’ said Tackleton. ‘I +should like to join the party.’</p> +<p>‘Do you hear that, father!’ cried the Blind Girl +in an ecstasy.</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes, I hear it,’ murmured Caleb, with the +fixed look of a sleep-walker; ‘but I don’t believe +it. It’s one of my lies, I’ve no +doubt.’</p> +<p>‘You see I—I want to bring the Peerybingles a +little more into company with May Fielding,’ said +Tackleton. ‘I am going to be married to +May.’</p> +<p>‘Married!’ cried the Blind Girl, starting from +him.</p> +<p>‘She’s such a con-founded Idiot,’ muttered +Tackleton, ‘that I was afraid she’d never comprehend +me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, parson, clerk, +beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, favours, +marrow-bones, cleavers, and all the rest of the tom-foolery. +A wedding, you know; a wedding. Don’t you know what a +wedding is?’</p> +<p>‘I know,’ replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle +tone. ‘I understand!’</p> +<p>‘Do you?’ muttered Tackleton. +‘It’s more than I expected. Well! On that +account I want to join the party, and to bring May and her +mother. I’ll send in a little something or other, +before the afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, or some +comfortable trifle of that sort. You’ll expect +me?’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ she answered.</p> +<p>She had drooped her head, and turned away; and so stood, with +her hands crossed, musing.</p> +<p>‘I don’t think you will,’ muttered +Tackleton, looking at her; ‘for you seem to have forgotten +all about it, already. Caleb!’</p> +<p>‘I may venture to say I’m here, I suppose,’ +thought Caleb. ‘Sir!’</p> +<p>‘Take care she don’t forget what I’ve been +saying to her.’</p> +<p>‘<i>She</i> never forgets,’ returned Caleb. +‘It’s one of the few things she an’t clever +in.’</p> +<p>‘Every man thinks his own geese swans,’ observed +the Toy-merchant, with a shrug. ‘Poor +devil!’</p> +<p>Having delivered himself of which remark, with infinite +contempt, old Gruff and Tackleton withdrew.</p> +<p>Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in +meditation. The gaiety had vanished from her downcast face, +and it was very sad. Three or four times she shook her +head, as if bewailing some remembrance or some loss; but her +sorrowful reflections found no vent in words.</p> +<p>It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some time, in yoking +a team of horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing +the harness to the vital parts of their bodies, that she drew +near to his working-stool, and sitting down beside him, said:</p> +<p>‘Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes, +my patient, willing eyes.’</p> +<p>‘Here they are,’ said Caleb. ‘Always +ready. They are more yours than mine, Bertha, any hour in +the four-and-twenty. What shall your eyes do for you, +dear?’</p> +<p>‘Look round the room, father.’</p> +<p>‘All right,’ said Caleb. ‘No sooner +said than done, Bertha.’</p> +<p>‘Tell me about it.’</p> +<p>‘It’s much the same as usual,’ said +Caleb. ‘Homely, but very snug. The gay colours +on the walls; the bright flowers on the plates and dishes; the +shining wood, where there are beams or panels; the general +cheerfulness and neatness of the building; make it very +pretty.’</p> +<p>Cheerful and neat it was wherever Bertha’s hands could +busy themselves. But nowhere else, were cheerfulness and +neatness possible, in the old crazy shed which Caleb’s +fancy so transformed.</p> +<p>‘You have your working dress on, and are not so gallant +as when you wear the handsome coat?’ said Bertha, touching +him.</p> +<p>‘Not quite so gallant,’ answered Caleb. +‘Pretty brisk though.’</p> +<p>‘Father,’ said the Blind Girl, drawing close to +his side, and stealing one arm round his neck, ‘tell me +something about May. She is very fair?’</p> +<p>‘She is indeed,’ said Caleb. And she was +indeed. It was quite a rare thing to Caleb, not to have to +draw on his invention.</p> +<p>‘Her hair is dark,’ said Bertha, pensively, +‘darker than mine. Her voice is sweet and musical, I +know. I have often loved to hear it. Her +shape—’</p> +<p>‘There’s not a Doll’s in all the room to +equal it,’ said Caleb. ‘And her +eyes!—’</p> +<p>He stopped; for Bertha had drawn closer round his neck, and +from the arm that clung about him, came a warning pressure which +he understood too well.</p> +<p>He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, and then fell back +upon the song about the sparkling bowl; his infallible resource +in all such difficulties.</p> +<p>‘Our friend, father, our benefactor. I am never +tired, you know, of hearing about him.—Now, was I +ever?’ she said, hastily.</p> +<p>‘Of course not,’ answered Caleb, ‘and with +reason.’</p> +<p>‘Ah! With how much reason!’ cried the Blind +Girl. With such fervency, that Caleb, though his motives +were so pure, could not endure to meet her face; but dropped his +eyes, as if she could have read in them his innocent deceit.</p> +<p>‘Then, tell me again about him, dear father,’ said +Bertha. ‘Many times again! His face is +benevolent, kind, and tender. Honest and true, I am sure it +is. The manly heart that tries to cloak all favours with a +show of roughness and unwillingness, beats in its every look and +glance.’</p> +<p>‘And makes it noble!’ added Caleb, in his quiet +desperation.</p> +<p>‘And makes it noble!’ cried the Blind Girl. +‘He is older than May, father.’</p> +<p>‘Ye-es,’ said Caleb, reluctantly. +‘He’s a little older than May. But that +don’t signify.’</p> +<p>‘Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in +infirmity and age; to be his gentle nurse in sickness, and his +constant friend in suffering and sorrow; to know no weariness in +working for his sake; to watch him, tend him, sit beside his bed +and talk to him awake, and pray for him asleep; what privileges +these would be! What opportunities for proving all her +truth and devotion to him! Would she do all this, dear +father?</p> +<p>‘No doubt of it,’ said Caleb.</p> +<p>‘I love her, father; I can love her from my soul!’ +exclaimed the Blind Girl. And saying so, she laid her poor +blind face on Caleb’s shoulder, and so wept and wept, that +he was almost sorry to have brought that tearful happiness upon +her.</p> +<p>In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp commotion at +John Peerybingle’s, for little Mrs. Peerybingle naturally +couldn’t think of going anywhere without the Baby; and to +get the Baby under weigh took time. Not that there was much +of the Baby, speaking of it as a thing of weight and measure, but +there was a vast deal to do about and about it, and it all had to +be done by easy stages. For instance, when the Baby was +got, by hook and by crook, to a certain point of dressing, and +you might have rationally supposed that another touch or two +would finish him off, and turn him out a tip-top Baby challenging +the world, he was unexpectedly extinguished in a flannel cap, and +hustled off to bed; where he simmered (so to speak) between two +blankets for the best part of an hour. From this state of +inaction he was then recalled, shining very much and roaring +violently, to partake of—well? I would rather say, if +you’ll permit me to speak generally—of a slight +repast. After which, he went to sleep again. Mrs. +Peerybingle took advantage of this interval, to make herself as +smart in a small way as ever you saw anybody in all your life; +and, during the same short truce, Miss Slowboy insinuated herself +into a spencer of a fashion so surprising and ingenious, that it +had no connection with herself, or anything else in the universe, +but was a shrunken, dog’s-eared, independent fact, pursuing +its lonely course without the least regard to anybody. By +this time, the Baby, being all alive again, was invested, by the +united efforts of Mrs. Peerybingle and Miss Slowboy, with a +cream-coloured mantle for its body, and a sort of nankeen +raised-pie for its head; and so in course of time they all three +got down to the door, where the old horse had already taken more +than the full value of his day’s toll out of the Turnpike +Trust, by tearing up the road with his impatient autographs; and +whence Boxer might be dimly seen in the remote perspective, +standing looking back, and tempting him to come on without +orders.</p> +<p>As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping Mrs. +Peerybingle into the cart, you know very little of John, if you +think <i>that</i> was necessary. Before you could have seen +him lift her from the ground, there she was in her place, fresh +and rosy, saying, ‘John! How <i>can</i> you! +Think of Tilly!’</p> +<p>If I might be allowed to mention a young lady’s legs, on +any terms, I would observe of Miss Slowboy’s that there was +a fatality about them which rendered them singularly liable to be +grazed; and that she never effected the smallest ascent or +descent, without recording the circumstance upon them with a +notch, as Robinson Crusoe marked the days upon his wooden +calendar. But as this might be considered ungenteel, +I’ll think of it.</p> +<p>‘John? You’ve got the Basket with the Veal +and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of Beer?’ said +Dot. ‘If you haven’t, you must turn round +again, this very minute.’</p> +<p>‘You’re a nice little article,’ returned the +Carrier, ‘to be talking about turning round, after keeping +me a full quarter of an hour behind my time.’</p> +<p>‘I am sorry for it, John,’ said Dot in a great +bustle, ‘but I really could not think of going to +Bertha’s—I would not do it, John, on any +account—without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the +bottles of Beer. Way!’</p> +<p>This monosyllable was addressed to the horse, who didn’t +mind it at all.</p> +<p>‘Oh <i>do</i> way, John!’ said Mrs. +Peerybingle. ‘Please!’</p> +<p>‘It’ll be time enough to do that,’ returned +John, ‘when I begin to leave things behind me. The +basket’s here, safe enough.’</p> +<p>‘What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, not to +have said so, at once, and save me such a turn! I declared +I wouldn’t go to Bertha’s without the Veal and +Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of Beer, for any money. +Regularly once a fortnight ever since we have been married, John, +have we made our little Pic-Nic there. If anything was to +go wrong with it, I should almost think we were never to be lucky +again.’</p> +<p>‘It was a kind thought in the first instance,’ +said the Carrier: ‘and I honour you for it, little +woman.’</p> +<p>‘My dear John,’ replied Dot, turning very red, +‘don’t talk about honouring <i>me</i>. Good +Gracious!’</p> +<p>‘By the bye—’ observed the Carrier. +‘That old gentleman—’</p> +<p>Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed!</p> +<p>‘He’s an odd fish,’ said the Carrier, +looking straight along the road before them. ‘I +can’t make him out. I don’t believe +there’s any harm in him.’</p> +<p>‘None at all. I’m—I’m sure +there’s none at all.’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted +to her face by the great earnestness of her manner. +‘I am glad you feel so certain of it, because it’s a +confirmation to me. It’s curious that he should have +taken it into his head to ask leave to go on lodging with us; +an’t it? Things come about so strangely.’</p> +<p>‘So very strangely,’ she rejoined in a low voice, +scarcely audible.</p> +<p>‘However, he’s a good-natured old +gentleman,’ said John, ‘and pays as a gentleman, and +I think his word is to be relied upon, like a +gentleman’s. I had quite a long talk with him this +morning: he can hear me better already, he says, as he gets more +used to my voice. He told me a great deal about himself, +and I told him a great deal about myself, and a rare lot of +questions he asked me. I gave him information about my +having two beats, you know, in my business; one day to the right +from our house and back again; another day to the left from our +house and back again (for he’s a stranger and don’t +know the names of places about here); and he seemed quite +pleased. “Why, then I shall be returning home +to-night your way,” he says, “when I thought +you’d be coming in an exactly opposite direction. +That’s capital! I may trouble you for another lift +perhaps, but I’ll engage not to fall so sound asleep +again.” He <i>was</i> sound asleep, +sure-ly!—Dot! what are you thinking of?’</p> +<p>‘Thinking of, John? I—I was listening to +you.’</p> +<p>‘O! That’s all right!’ said the honest +Carrier. ‘I was afraid, from the look of your face, +that I had gone rambling on so long, as to set you thinking about +something else. I was very near it, I’ll be +bound.’</p> +<p>Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little time, in +silence. But, it was not easy to remain silent very long in +John Peerybingle’s cart, for everybody on the road had +something to say. Though it might only be ‘How are +you!’ and indeed it was very often nothing else, still, to +give that back again in the right spirit of cordiality, required, +not merely a nod and a smile, but as wholesome an action of the +lungs withal, as a long-winded Parliamentary speech. +Sometimes, passengers on foot, or horseback, plodded on a little +way beside the cart, for the express purpose of having a chat; +and then there was a great deal to be said, on both sides.</p> +<p>Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured recognitions +of, and by, the Carrier, than half-a-dozen Christians could have +done! Everybody knew him, all along the +road—especially the fowls and pigs, who when they saw him +approaching, with his body all on one side, and his ears pricked +up inquisitively, and that knob of a tail making the most of +itself in the air, immediately withdrew into remote back +settlements, without waiting for the honour of a nearer +acquaintance. He had business everywhere; going down all +the turnings, looking into all the wells, bolting in and out of +all the cottages, dashing into the midst of all the Dame-Schools, +fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying the tails of all the cats, +and trotting into the public-houses like a regular +customer. Wherever he went, somebody or other might have +been heard to cry, ‘Halloa! Here’s +Boxer!’ and out came that somebody forthwith, accompanied +by at least two or three other somebodies, to give John +Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day.</p> +<p>The packages and parcels for the errand cart, were numerous; +and there were many stoppages to take them in and give them out, +which were not by any means the worst parts of the journey. +Some people were so full of expectation about their parcels, and +other people were so full of wonder about their parcels, and +other people were so full of inexhaustible directions about their +parcels, and John had such a lively interest in all the parcels, +that it was as good as a play. Likewise, there were +articles to carry, which required to be considered and discussed, +and in reference to the adjustment and disposition of which, +councils had to be holden by the Carrier and the senders: at +which Boxer usually assisted, in short fits of the closest +attention, and long fits of tearing round and round the assembled +sages and barking himself hoarse. Of all these little +incidents, Dot was the amused and open-eyed spectatress from her +chair in the cart; and as she sat there, looking on—a +charming little portrait framed to admiration by the +tilt—there was no lack of nudgings and glancings and +whisperings and envyings among the younger men. And this +delighted John the Carrier, beyond measure; for he was proud to +have his little wife admired, knowing that she didn’t mind +it—that, if anything, she rather liked it perhaps.</p> +<p>The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the January +weather; and was raw and cold. But who cared for such +trifles? Not Dot, decidedly. Not Tilly Slowboy, for +she deemed sitting in a cart, on any terms, to be the highest +point of human joys; the crowning circumstance of earthly +hopes. Not the Baby, I’ll be sworn; for it’s +not in Baby nature to be warmer or more sound asleep, though its +capacity is great in both respects, than that blessed young +Peerybingle was, all the way.</p> +<p>You couldn’t see very far in the fog, of course; but you +could see a great deal! It’s astonishing how much you +may see, in a thicker fog than that, if you will only take the +trouble to look for it. Why, even to sit watching for the +Fairy-rings in the fields, and for the patches of hoar-frost +still lingering in the shade, near hedges and by trees, was a +pleasant occupation: to make no mention of the unexpected shapes +in which the trees themselves came starting out of the mist, and +glided into it again. The hedges were tangled and bare, and +waved a multitude of blighted garlands in the wind; but there was +no discouragement in this. It was agreeable to contemplate; +for it made the fireside warmer in possession, and the summer +greener in expectancy. The river looked chilly; but it was +in motion, and moving at a good pace—which was a great +point. The canal was rather slow and torpid; that must be +admitted. Never mind. It would freeze the sooner when +the frost set fairly in, and then there would be skating, and +sliding; and the heavy old barges, frozen up somewhere near a +wharf, would smoke their rusty iron chimney pipes all day, and +have a lazy time of it.</p> +<p>In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or stubble +burning; and they watched the fire, so white in the daytime, +flaring through the fog, with only here and there a dash of red +in it, until, in consequence, as she observed, of the smoke +‘getting up her nose,’ Miss Slowboy choked—she +could do anything of that sort, on the smallest +provocation—and woke the Baby, who wouldn’t go to +sleep again. But, Boxer, who was in advance some quarter of +a mile or so, had already passed the outposts of the town, and +gained the corner of the street where Caleb and his daughter +lived; and long before they had reached the door, he and the +Blind Girl were on the pavement waiting to receive them.</p> +<p>Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions of his +own, in his communication with Bertha, which persuade me fully +that he knew her to be blind. He never sought to attract +her attention by looking at her, as he often did with other +people, but touched her invariably. What experience he +could ever have had of blind people or blind dogs, I don’t +know. He had never lived with a blind master; nor had Mr. +Boxer the elder, nor Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his respectable +family on either side, ever been visited with blindness, that I +am aware of. He may have found it out for himself, perhaps, +but he had got hold of it somehow; and therefore he had hold of +Bertha too, by the skirt, and kept hold, until Mrs. Peerybingle +and the Baby, and Miss Slowboy, and the basket, were all got +safely within doors.</p> +<p>May Fielding was already come; and so was her mother—a +little querulous chip of an old lady with a peevish face, who, in +right of having preserved a waist like a bedpost, was supposed to +be a most transcendent figure; and who, in consequence of having +once been better off, or of labouring under an impression that +she might have been, if something had happened which never did +happen, and seemed to have never been particularly likely to come +to pass—but it’s all the same—was very genteel +and patronising indeed. Gruff and Tackleton was also there, +doing the agreeable, with the evident sensation of being as +perfectly at home, and as unquestionably in his own element, as a +fresh young salmon on the top of the Great Pyramid.</p> +<p>‘May! My dear old friend!’ cried Dot, +running up to meet her. ‘What a happiness to see +you.’</p> +<p>Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad as she; +and it really was, if you’ll believe me, quite a pleasant +sight to see them embrace. Tackleton was a man of taste +beyond all question. May was very pretty.</p> +<p>You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty face, how, +when it comes into contact and comparison with another pretty +face, it seems for the moment to be homely and faded, and hardly +to deserve the high opinion you have had of it. Now, this +was not at all the case, either with Dot or May; for May’s +face set off Dot’s, and Dot’s face set off +May’s, so naturally and agreeably, that, as John +Peerybingle was very near saying when he came into the room, they +ought to have been born sisters—which was the only +improvement you could have suggested.</p> +<p>Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, wonderful to +relate, a tart besides—but we don’t mind a little +dissipation when our brides are in the case; we don’t get +married every day—and in addition to these dainties, there +were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and ‘things,’ as Mrs. +Peerybingle called them; which were chiefly nuts and oranges, and +cakes, and such small deer. When the repast was set forth +on the board, flanked by Caleb’s contribution, which was a +great wooden bowl of smoking potatoes (he was prohibited, by +solemn compact, from producing any other viands), Tackleton led +his intended mother-in-law to the post of honour. For the +better gracing of this place at the high festival, the majestic +old soul had adorned herself with a cap, calculated to inspire +the thoughtless with sentiments of awe. She also wore her +gloves. But let us be genteel, or die!</p> +<p>Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old schoolfellow were +side by side; the good Carrier took care of the bottom of the +table. Miss Slowboy was isolated, for the time being, from +every article of furniture but the chair she sat on, that she +might have nothing else to knock the Baby’s head +against.</p> +<p>As Tilly stared about her at the dolls and toys, they stared +at her and at the company. The venerable old gentlemen at +the street doors (who were all in full action) showed especial +interest in the party, pausing occasionally before leaping, as if +they were listening to the conversation, and then plunging wildly +over and over, a great many times, without halting for +breath—as in a frantic state of delight with the whole +proceedings.</p> +<p>Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to have a +fiendish joy in the contemplation of Tackleton’s +discomfiture, they had good reason to be satisfied. +Tackleton couldn’t get on at all; and the more cheerful his +intended bride became in Dot’s society, the less he liked +it, though he had brought them together for that purpose. +For he was a regular dog in the manger, was Tackleton; and when +they laughed and he couldn’t, he took it into his head, +immediately, that they must be laughing at him.</p> +<p>‘Ah, May!’ said Dot. ‘Dear dear, what +changes! To talk of those merry school-days makes one young +again.’</p> +<p>‘Why, you an’t particularly old, at any time; are +you?’ said Tackleton.</p> +<p>‘Look at my sober plodding husband there,’ +returned Dot. ‘He adds twenty years to my age at +least. Don’t you, John?’</p> +<p>‘Forty,’ John replied.</p> +<p>‘How many <i>you</i>’ll add to May’s, I am +sure I don’t know,’ said Dot, laughing. +‘But she can’t be much less than a hundred years of +age on her next birthday.’</p> +<p>‘Ha ha!’ laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a +drum, that laugh though. And he looked as if he could have +twisted Dot’s neck, comfortably.</p> +<p>‘Dear dear!’ said Dot. ‘Only to +remember how we used to talk, at school, about the husbands we +would choose. I don’t know how young, and how +handsome, and how gay, and how lively, mine was not to be! +And as to May’s!—Ah dear! I don’t know +whether to laugh or cry, when I think what silly girls we +were.’</p> +<p>May seemed to know which to do; for the colour flushed into +her face, and tears stood in her eyes.</p> +<p>‘Even the very persons themselves—real live young +men—were fixed on sometimes,’ said Dot. +‘We little thought how things would come about. I +never fixed on John I’m sure; I never so much as thought of +him. And if I had told you, you were ever to be married to +Mr. Tackleton, why you’d have slapped me. +Wouldn’t you, May?’</p> +<p>Though May didn’t say yes, she certainly didn’t +say no, or express no, by any means.</p> +<p>Tackleton laughed—quite shouted, he laughed so +loud. John Peerybingle laughed too, in his ordinary +good-natured and contented manner; but his was a mere whisper of +a laugh, to Tackleton’s.</p> +<p>‘You couldn’t help yourselves, for all that. +You couldn’t resist us, you see,’ said +Tackleton. ‘Here we are! Here we +are!’</p> +<p>‘Where are your gay young bridegrooms now!’</p> +<p>‘Some of them are dead,’ said Dot; ‘and some +of them forgotten. Some of them, if they could stand among +us at this moment, would not believe we were the same creatures; +would not believe that what they saw and heard was real, and we +<i>could</i> forget them so. No! they would not believe one +word of it!’</p> +<p>‘Why, Dot!’ exclaimed the Carrier. +‘Little woman!’</p> +<p>She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, that she stood +in need of some recalling to herself, without doubt. Her +husband’s check was very gentle, for he merely interfered, +as he supposed, to shield old Tackleton; but it proved effectual, +for she stopped, and said no more. There was an uncommon +agitation, even in her silence, which the wary Tackleton, who had +brought his half-shut eye to bear upon her, noted closely, and +remembered to some purpose too.</p> +<p>May uttered no word, good or bad, but sat quite still, with +her eyes cast down, and made no sign of interest in what had +passed. The good lady her mother now interposed, observing, +in the first instance, that girls were girls, and byegones +byegones, and that so long as young people were young and +thoughtless, they would probably conduct themselves like young +and thoughtless persons: with two or three other positions of a +no less sound and incontrovertible character. She then +remarked, in a devout spirit, that she thanked Heaven she had +always found in her daughter May, a dutiful and obedient child; +for which she took no credit to herself, though she had every +reason to believe it was entirely owing to herself. With +regard to Mr. Tackleton she said, That he was in a moral point of +view an undeniable individual, and That he was in an eligible +point of view a son-in-law to be desired, no one in their senses +could doubt. (She was very emphatic here.) With +regard to the family into which he was so soon about, after some +solicitation, to be admitted, she believed Mr. Tackleton knew +that, although reduced in purse, it had some pretensions to +gentility; and if certain circumstances, not wholly unconnected, +she would go so far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to +which she would not more particularly refer, had happened +differently, it might perhaps have been in possession of +wealth. She then remarked that she would not allude to the +past, and would not mention that her daughter had for some time +rejected the suit of Mr. Tackleton; and that she would not say a +great many other things which she did say, at great length. +Finally, she delivered it as the general result of her +observation and experience, that those marriages in which there +was least of what was romantically and sillily called love, were +always the happiest; and that she anticipated the greatest +possible amount of bliss—not rapturous bliss; but the +solid, steady-going article—from the approaching +nuptials. She concluded by informing the company that +to-morrow was the day she had lived for, expressly; and that when +it was over, she would desire nothing better than to be packed up +and disposed of, in any genteel place of burial.</p> +<p>As these remarks were quite unanswerable—which is the +happy property of all remarks that are sufficiently wide of the +purpose—they changed the current of the conversation, and +diverted the general attention to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold +mutton, the potatoes, and the tart. In order that the +bottled beer might not be slighted, John Peerybingle proposed +To-morrow: the Wedding-Day; and called upon them to drink a +bumper to it, before he proceeded on his journey.</p> +<p>For you ought to know that he only rested there, and gave the +old horse a bait. He had to go some four or five miles +farther on; and when he returned in the evening, he called for +Dot, and took another rest on his way home. This was the +order of the day on all the Pic-Nic occasions, had been, ever +since their institution.</p> +<p>There were two persons present, besides the bride and +bridegroom elect, who did but indifferent honour to the +toast. One of these was Dot, too flushed and discomposed to +adapt herself to any small occurrence of the moment; the other, +Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, before the rest, and left the +table.</p> +<p>‘Good bye!’ said stout John Peerybingle, pulling +on his dreadnought coat. ‘I shall be back at the old +time. Good bye all!’</p> +<p>‘Good bye, John,’ returned Caleb.</p> +<p>He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand in the same +unconscious manner; for he stood observing Bertha with an anxious +wondering face, that never altered its expression.</p> +<p>‘Good bye, young shaver!’ said the jolly Carrier, +bending down to kiss the child; which Tilly Slowboy, now intent +upon her knife and fork, had deposited asleep (and strange to +say, without damage) in a little cot of Bertha’s +furnishing; ‘good bye! Time will come, I suppose, +when <i>you’ll</i> turn out into the cold, my little +friend, and leave your old father to enjoy his pipe and his +rheumatics in the chimney-corner; eh? Where’s +Dot?’</p> +<p>‘I’m here, John!’ she said, starting.</p> +<p>‘Come, come!’ returned the Carrier, clapping his +sounding hands. ‘Where’s the pipe?’</p> +<p>‘I quite forgot the pipe, John.’</p> +<p>Forgot the pipe! Was such a wonder ever heard of! +She! Forgot the pipe!</p> +<p>‘I’ll—I’ll fill it directly. +It’s soon done.’</p> +<p>But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the usual +place—the Carrier’s dreadnought pocket—with the +little pouch, her own work, from which she was used to fill it, +but her hand shook so, that she entangled it (and yet her hand +was small enough to have come out easily, I am sure), and bungled +terribly. The filling of the pipe and lighting it, those +little offices in which I have commended her discretion, were +vilely done, from first to last. During the whole process, +Tackleton stood looking on maliciously with the half-closed eye; +which, whenever it met hers—or caught it, for it can hardly +be said to have ever met another eye: rather being a kind of trap +to snatch it up—augmented her confusion in a most +remarkable degree.</p> +<p>‘Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!’ +said John. ‘I could have done it better myself, I +verily believe!’</p> +<p>With these good-natured words, he strode away, and presently +was heard, in company with Boxer, and the old horse, and the +cart, making lively music down the road. What time the +dreamy Caleb still stood, watching his blind daughter, with the +same expression on his face.</p> +<p>‘Bertha!’ said Caleb, softly. ‘What +has happened? How changed you are, my darling, in a few +hours—since this morning. <i>You</i> silent and dull +all day! What is it? Tell me!’</p> +<p>‘Oh father, father!’ cried the Blind Girl, +bursting into tears. ‘Oh my hard, hard +fate!’</p> +<p>Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered +her.</p> +<p>‘But think how cheerful and how happy you have been, +Bertha! How good, and how much loved, by many +people.’</p> +<p>‘That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always +so mindful of me! Always so kind to me!’</p> +<p>Caleb was very much perplexed to understand her.</p> +<p>‘To be—to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear,’ +he faltered, ‘is a great affliction; but—’</p> +<p>‘I have never felt it!’ cried the Blind +Girl. ‘I have never felt it, in its fulness. +Never! I have sometimes wished that I could see you, or +could see him—only once, dear father, only for one little +minute—that I might know what it is I treasure up,’ +she laid her hands upon her breast, ‘and hold here! +That I might be sure and have it right! And sometimes (but +then I was a child) I have wept in my prayers at night, to think +that when your images ascended from my heart to Heaven, they +might not be the true resemblance of yourselves. But I have +never had these feelings long. They have passed away and +left me tranquil and contented.’</p> +<p>‘And they will again,’ said Caleb.</p> +<p>‘But, father! Oh my good, gentle father, bear with +me, if I am wicked!’ said the Blind Girl. ‘This +is not the sorrow that so weighs me down!’</p> +<p>Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes overflow; +she was so earnest and pathetic, but he did not understand her, +yet.</p> +<p>‘Bring her to me,’ said Bertha. ‘I +cannot hold it closed and shut within myself. Bring her to +me, father!’</p> +<p>She knew he hesitated, and said, ‘May. Bring +May!’</p> +<p>May heard the mention of her name, and coming quietly towards +her, touched her on the arm. The Blind Girl turned +immediately, and held her by both hands.</p> +<p>‘Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!’ said +Bertha. ‘Read it with your beautiful eyes, and tell +me if the truth is written on it.’</p> +<p>‘Dear Bertha, Yes!’</p> +<p>The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless face, down +which the tears were coursing fast, addressed her in these +words:</p> +<p>‘There is not, in my soul, a wish or thought that is not +for your good, bright May! There is not, in my soul, a +grateful recollection stronger than the deep remembrance which is +stored there, of the many many times when, in the full pride of +sight and beauty, you have had consideration for Blind Bertha, +even when we two were children, or when Bertha was as much a +child as ever blindness can be! Every blessing on your +head! Light upon your happy course! Not the less, my +dear May;’ and she drew towards her, in a closer grasp; +‘not the less, my bird, because, to-day, the knowledge that +you are to be His wife has wrung my heart almost to +breaking! Father, May, Mary! oh forgive me that it is so, +for the sake of all he has done to relieve the weariness of my +dark life: and for the sake of the belief you have in me, when I +call Heaven to witness that I could not wish him married to a +wife more worthy of his goodness!’</p> +<p>While speaking, she had released May Fielding’s hands, +and clasped her garments in an attitude of mingled supplication +and love. Sinking lower and lower down, as she proceeded in +her strange confession, she dropped at last at the feet of her +friend, and hid her blind face in the folds of her dress.</p> +<p>‘Great Power!’ exclaimed her father, smitten at +one blow with the truth, ‘have I deceived her from her +cradle, but to break her heart at last!’</p> +<p>It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, useful, +busy little Dot—for such she was, whatever faults she had, +and however you may learn to hate her, in good time—it was +well for all of them, I say, that she was there: or where this +would have ended, it were hard to tell. But Dot, recovering +her self-possession, interposed, before May could reply, or Caleb +say another word.</p> +<p>‘Come, come, dear Bertha! come away with me! Give +her your arm, May. So! How composed she is, you see, +already; and how good it is of her to mind us,’ said the +cheery little woman, kissing her upon the forehead. +‘Come away, dear Bertha. Come! and here’s her +good father will come with her; won’t you, Caleb? +To—be—sure!’</p> +<p>Well, well! she was a noble little Dot in such things, and it +must have been an obdurate nature that could have withstood her +influence. When she had got poor Caleb and his Bertha away, +that they might comfort and console each other, as she knew they +only could, she presently came bouncing back,—the saying +is, as fresh as any daisy; I say fresher—to mount guard +over that bridling little piece of consequence in the cap and +gloves, and prevent the dear old creature from making +discoveries.</p> +<p>‘So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly,’ said she, +drawing a chair to the fire; ‘and while I have it in my +lap, here’s Mrs. Fielding, Tilly, will tell me all about +the management of Babies, and put me right in twenty points where +I’m as wrong as can be. Won’t you, Mrs. +Fielding?’</p> +<p>Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the popular +expression, was so ‘slow’ as to perform a fatal +surgical operation upon himself, in emulation of a juggling-trick +achieved by his arch-enemy at breakfast-time; not even he fell +half so readily into the snare prepared for him, as the old lady +did into this artful pitfall. The fact of Tackleton having +walked out; and furthermore, of two or three people having been +talking together at a distance, for two minutes, leaving her to +her own resources; was quite enough to have put her on her +dignity, and the bewailment of that mysterious convulsion in the +Indigo trade, for four-and-twenty hours. But this becoming +deference to her experience, on the part of the young mother, was +so irresistible, that after a short affectation of humility, she +began to enlighten her with the best grace in the world; and +sitting bolt upright before the wicked Dot, she did, in half an +hour, deliver more infallible domestic recipes and precepts, than +would (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and done up that Young +Peerybingle, though he had been an Infant Samson.</p> +<p>To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework—she +carried the contents of a whole workbox in her pocket; however +she contrived it, I don’t know—then did a little +nursing; then a little more needlework; then had a little +whispering chat with May, while the old lady dozed; and so in +little bits of bustle, which was quite her manner always, found +it a very short afternoon. Then, as it grew dark, and as it +was a solemn part of this Institution of the Pic-Nic that she +should perform all Bertha’s household tasks, she trimmed +the fire, and swept the hearth, and set the tea-board out, and +drew the curtain, and lighted a candle. Then she played an +air or two on a rude kind of harp, which Caleb had contrived for +Bertha, and played them very well; for Nature had made her +delicate little ear as choice a one for music as it would have +been for jewels, if she had had any to wear. By this time +it was the established hour for having tea; and Tackleton came +back again, to share the meal, and spend the evening.</p> +<p>Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and Caleb had +sat down to his afternoon’s work. But he +couldn’t settle to it, poor fellow, being anxious and +remorseful for his daughter. It was touching to see him +sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding her so wistfully, +and always saying in his face, ‘Have I deceived her from +her cradle, but to break her heart!’</p> +<p>When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had nothing more +to do in washing up the cups and saucers; in a word—for I +must come to it, and there is no use in putting it off—when +the time drew nigh for expecting the Carrier’s return in +every sound of distant wheels, her manner changed again, her +colour came and went, and she was very restless. Not as +good wives are, when listening for their husbands. No, no, +no. It was another sort of restlessness from that.</p> +<p>Wheels heard. A horse’s feet. The barking of +a dog. The gradual approach of all the sounds. The +scratching paw of Boxer at the door!</p> +<p>‘Whose step is that!’ cried Bertha, starting +up.</p> +<p>‘Whose step?’ returned the Carrier, standing in +the portal, with his brown face ruddy as a winter berry from the +keen night air. ‘Why, mine.’</p> +<p>‘The other step,’ said Bertha. ‘The +man’s tread behind you!’</p> +<p>‘She is not to be deceived,’ observed the Carrier, +laughing. ‘Come along, sir. You’ll be +welcome, never fear!’</p> +<p>He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the deaf old +gentleman entered.</p> +<p>‘He’s not so much a stranger, that you +haven’t seen him once, Caleb,’ said the +Carrier. ‘You’ll give him house-room till we +go?’</p> +<p>‘Oh surely, John, and take it as an honour.’</p> +<p>‘He’s the best company on earth, to talk secrets +in,’ said John. ‘I have reasonable good lungs, +but he tries ’em, I can tell you. Sit down, +sir. All friends here, and glad to see you!’</p> +<p>When he had imparted this assurance, in a voice that amply +corroborated what he had said about his lungs, he added in his +natural tone, ‘A chair in the chimney-corner, and leave to +sit quite silent and look pleasantly about him, is all he cares +for. He’s easily pleased.’</p> +<p>Bertha had been listening intently. She called Caleb to +her side, when he had set the chair, and asked him, in a low +voice, to describe their visitor. When he had done so +(truly now; with scrupulous fidelity), she moved, for the first +time since he had come in, and sighed, and seemed to have no +further interest concerning him.</p> +<p>The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that he was, and +fonder of his little wife than ever.</p> +<p>‘A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!’ he said, +encircling her with his rough arm, as she stood, removed from the +rest; ‘and yet I like her somehow. See yonder, +Dot!’</p> +<p>He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I +think she trembled.</p> +<p>‘He’s—ha ha ha!—he’s full of +admiration for you!’ said the Carrier. ‘Talked +of nothing else, the whole way here. Why, he’s a +brave old boy. I like him for it!’</p> +<p>‘I wish he had had a better subject, John,’ she +said, with an uneasy glance about the room. At Tackleton +especially.</p> +<p>‘A better subject!’ cried the jovial John. +‘There’s no such thing. Come, off with the +great-coat, off with the thick shawl, off with the heavy +wrappers! and a cosy half-hour by the fire! My humble +service, Mistress. A game at cribbage, you and I? +That’s hearty. The cards and board, Dot. And a +glass of beer here, if there’s any left, small +wife!’</p> +<p>His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who accepting it +with gracious readiness, they were soon engaged upon the +game. At first, the Carrier looked about him sometimes, +with a smile, or now and then called Dot to peep over his +shoulder at his hand, and advise him on some knotty point. +But his adversary being a rigid disciplinarian, and subject to an +occasional weakness in respect of pegging more than she was +entitled to, required such vigilance on his part, as left him +neither eyes nor ears to spare. Thus, his whole attention +gradually became absorbed upon the cards; and he thought of +nothing else, until a hand upon his shoulder restored him to a +consciousness of Tackleton.</p> +<p>‘I am sorry to disturb you—but a word, +directly.’</p> +<p>‘I’m going to deal,’ returned the +Carrier. ‘It’s a crisis.’</p> +<p>‘It is,’ said Tackleton. ‘Come here, +man!’</p> +<p>There was that in his pale face which made the other rise +immediately, and ask him, in a hurry, what the matter was.</p> +<p>‘Hush! John Peerybingle,’ said +Tackleton. ‘I am sorry for this. I am +indeed. I have been afraid of it. I have suspected it +from the first.’</p> +<p>‘What is it?’ asked the Carrier, with a frightened +aspect.</p> +<p>‘Hush! I’ll show you, if you’ll come +with me.’</p> +<p>The Carrier accompanied him, without another word. They +went across a yard, where the stars were shining, and by a little +side-door, into Tackleton’s own counting-house, where there +was a glass window, commanding the ware-room, which was closed +for the night. There was no light in the counting-house +itself, but there were lamps in the long narrow ware-room; and +consequently the window was bright.</p> +<p>‘A moment!’ said Tackleton. ‘Can you +bear to look through that window, do you think?’</p> +<p>‘Why not?’ returned the Carrier.</p> +<p>‘A moment more,’ said Tackleton. +‘Don’t commit any violence. It’s of no +use. It’s dangerous too. You’re a +strong-made man; and you might do murder before you know +it.’</p> +<p>The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a step as if +he had been struck. In one stride he was at the window, and +he saw—</p> +<p>Oh Shadow on the Hearth! Oh truthful Cricket! Oh +perfidious Wife!</p> +<p>He saw her, with the old man—old no longer, but erect +and gallant—bearing in his hand the false white hair that +had won his way into their desolate and miserable home. He +saw her listening to him, as he bent his head to whisper in her +ear; and suffering him to clasp her round the waist, as they +moved slowly down the dim wooden gallery towards the door by +which they had entered it. He saw them stop, and saw her +turn—to have the face, the face he loved so, so presented +to his view!—and saw her, with her own hands, adjust the +lie upon his head, laughing, as she did it, at his unsuspicious +nature!</p> +<p>He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it would +have beaten down a lion. But opening it immediately again, +he spread it out before the eyes of Tackleton (for he was tender +of her, even then), and so, as they passed out, fell down upon a +desk, and was as weak as any infant.</p> +<p>He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his horse and +parcels, when she came into the room, prepared for going +home.</p> +<p>‘Now, John, dear! Good night, May! Good +night, Bertha!’</p> +<p>Could she kiss them? Could she be blithe and cheerful in +her parting? Could she venture to reveal her face to them +without a blush? Yes. Tackleton observed her closely, +and she did all this.</p> +<p>Tilly was hushing the Baby, and she crossed and re-crossed +Tackleton, a dozen times, repeating drowsily:</p> +<p>‘Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, then, +wring its hearts almost to breaking; and did its fathers deceive +it from its cradles but to break its hearts at last!’</p> +<p>‘Now, Tilly, give me the Baby! Good night, Mr. +Tackleton. Where’s John, for goodness’ +sake?’</p> +<p>‘He’s going to walk beside the horse’s +head,’ said Tackleton; who helped her to her seat.</p> +<p>‘My dear John. Walk? To-night?’</p> +<p>The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty sign in the +affirmative; and the false stranger and the little nurse being in +their places, the old horse moved off. Boxer, the +unconscious Boxer, running on before, running back, running round +and round the cart, and barking as triumphantly and merrily as +ever.</p> +<p>When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting May and her +mother home, poor Caleb sat down by the fire beside his daughter; +anxious and remorseful at the core; and still saying in his +wistful contemplation of her, ‘Have I deceived her from her +cradle, but to break her heart at last!’</p> +<p>The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, had all +stopped, and run down, long ago. In the faint light and +silence, the imperturbably calm dolls, the agitated +rocking-horses with distended eyes and nostrils, the old +gentlemen at the street-doors, standing half doubled up upon +their failing knees and ankles, the wry-faced nut-crackers, the +very Beasts upon their way into the Ark, in twos, like a Boarding +School out walking, might have been imagined to be stricken +motionless with fantastic wonder, at Dot being false, or +Tackleton beloved, under any combination of circumstances.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III—Chirp the Third</h2> +<p>The Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the Carrier sat +down by his fireside. So troubled and grief-worn, that he +seemed to scare the Cuckoo, who, having cut his ten melodious +announcements as short as possible, plunged back into the Moorish +Palace again, and clapped his little door behind him, as if the +unwonted spectacle were too much for his feelings.</p> +<p>If the little Haymaker had been armed with the sharpest of +scythes, and had cut at every stroke into the Carrier’s +heart, he never could have gashed and wounded it, as Dot had +done.</p> +<p>It was a heart so full of love for her; so bound up and held +together by innumerable threads of winning remembrance, spun from +the daily working of her many qualities of endearment; it was a +heart in which she had enshrined herself so gently and so +closely; a heart so single and so earnest in its Truth, so strong +in right, so weak in wrong; that it could cherish neither passion +nor revenge at first, and had only room to hold the broken image +of its Idol.</p> +<p>But, slowly, slowly, as the Carrier sat brooding on his +hearth, now cold and dark, other and fiercer thoughts began to +rise within him, as an angry wind comes rising in the +night. The Stranger was beneath his outraged roof. +Three steps would take him to his chamber-door. One blow +would beat it in. ‘You might do murder before you +know it,’ Tackleton had said. How could it be murder, +if he gave the villain time to grapple with him hand to +hand! He was the younger man.</p> +<p>It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood of his +mind. It was an angry thought, goading him to some avenging +act, that should change the cheerful house into a haunted place +which lonely travellers would dread to pass by night; and where +the timid would see shadows struggling in the ruined windows when +the moon was dim, and hear wild noises in the stormy weather.</p> +<p>He was the younger man! Yes, yes; some lover who had won +the heart that <i>he</i> had never touched. Some lover of +her early choice, of whom she had thought and dreamed, for whom +she had pined and pined, when he had fancied her so happy by his +side. O agony to think of it!</p> +<p>She had been above-stairs with the Baby, getting it to +bed. As he sat brooding on the hearth, she came close +beside him, without his knowledge—in the turning of the +rack of his great misery, he lost all other sounds—and put +her little stool at his feet. He only knew it, when he felt +her hand upon his own, and saw her looking up into his face.</p> +<p>With wonder? No. It was his first impression, and +he was fain to look at her again, to set it right. No, not +with wonder. With an eager and inquiring look; but not with +wonder. At first it was alarmed and serious; then, it +changed into a strange, wild, dreadful smile of recognition of +his thoughts; then, there was nothing but her clasped hands on +her brow, and her bent head, and falling hair.</p> +<p>Though the power of Omnipotence had been his to wield at that +moment, he had too much of its diviner property of Mercy in his +breast, to have turned one feather’s weight of it against +her. But he could not bear to see her crouching down upon +the little seat where he had often looked on her, with love and +pride, so innocent and gay; and, when she rose and left him, +sobbing as she went, he felt it a relief to have the vacant place +beside him rather than her so long-cherished presence. This +in itself was anguish keener than all, reminding him how desolate +he was become, and how the great bond of his life was rent +asunder.</p> +<p>The more he felt this, and the more he knew he could have +better borne to see her lying prematurely dead before him with +their little child upon her breast, the higher and the stronger +rose his wrath against his enemy. He looked about him for a +weapon.</p> +<p>There was a gun, hanging on the wall. He took it down, +and moved a pace or two towards the door of the perfidious +Stranger’s room. He knew the gun was loaded. +Some shadowy idea that it was just to shoot this man like a wild +beast, seized him, and dilated in his mind until it grew into a +monstrous demon in complete possession of him, casting out all +milder thoughts and setting up its undivided empire.</p> +<p>That phrase is wrong. Not casting out his milder +thoughts, but artfully transforming them. Changing them +into scourges to drive him on. Turning water into blood, +love into hate, gentleness into blind ferocity. Her image, +sorrowing, humbled, but still pleading to his tenderness and +mercy with resistless power, never left his mind; but, staying +there, it urged him to the door; raised the weapon to his +shoulder; fitted and nerved his finger to the trigger; and cried +‘Kill him! In his bed!’</p> +<p>He reversed the gun to beat the stock upon the door; he already +held it lifted in the air; some indistinct design was in his +thoughts of calling out to him to fly, for God’s sake, by +the window—</p> +<p>When, suddenly, the struggling fire illumined the whole +chimney with a glow of light; and the Cricket on the Hearth began +to Chirp!</p> +<p>No sound he could have heard, no human voice, not even hers, +could so have moved and softened him. The artless words in +which she had told him of her love for this same Cricket, were +once more freshly spoken; her trembling, earnest manner at the +moment, was again before him; her pleasant voice—O what a +voice it was, for making household music at the fireside of an +honest man!—thrilled through and through his better nature, +and awoke it into life and action.</p> +<p>He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his sleep, +awakened from a frightful dream; and put the gun aside. +Clasping his hands before his face, he then sat down again beside +the fire, and found relief in tears.</p> +<p>The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, and stood in +Fairy shape before him.</p> +<p>‘“I love it,”’ said the Fairy Voice, +repeating what he well remembered, ‘“for the many +times I have heard it, and the many thoughts its harmless music +has given me.”’</p> +<p>‘She said so!’ cried the Carrier. +‘True!’</p> +<p>‘“This has been a happy home, John; and I love the +Cricket for its sake!”’</p> +<p>‘It has been, Heaven knows,’ returned the +Carrier. ‘She made it happy, always,—until +now.’</p> +<p>‘So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, +busy, and light-hearted!’ said the Voice.</p> +<p>‘Otherwise I never could have loved her as I did,’ +returned the Carrier.</p> +<p>The Voice, correcting him, said ‘do.’</p> +<p>The Carrier repeated ‘as I did.’ But not +firmly. His faltering tongue resisted his control, and +would speak in its own way, for itself and him.</p> +<p>The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its hand and +said:</p> +<p>‘Upon your own hearth—’</p> +<p>‘The hearth she has blighted,’ interposed the +Carrier.</p> +<p>‘The hearth she has—how often!—blessed and +brightened,’ said the Cricket; ‘the hearth which, but +for her, were only a few stones and bricks and rusty bars, but +which has been, through her, the Altar of your Home; on which you +have nightly sacrificed some petty passion, selfishness, or care, +and offered up the homage of a tranquil mind, a trusting nature, +and an overflowing heart; so that the smoke from this poor +chimney has gone upward with a better fragrance than the richest +incense that is burnt before the richest shrines in all the gaudy +temples of this world!—Upon your own hearth; in its quiet +sanctuary; surrounded by its gentle influences and associations; +hear her! Hear me! Hear everything that speaks the +language of your hearth and home!’</p> +<p>‘And pleads for her?’ inquired the Carrier.</p> +<p>‘All things that speak the language of your hearth and +home, must plead for her!’ returned the Cricket. +‘For they speak the truth.’</p> +<p>And while the Carrier, with his head upon his hands, continued +to sit meditating in his chair, the Presence stood beside him, +suggesting his reflections by its power, and presenting them +before him, as in a glass or picture. It was not a solitary +Presence. From the hearthstone, from the chimney, from the +clock, the pipe, the kettle, and the cradle; from the floor, the +walls, the ceiling, and the stairs; from the cart without, and +the cupboard within, and the household implements; from every +thing and every place with which she had ever been familiar, and +with which she had ever entwined one recollection of herself in +her unhappy husband’s mind; Fairies came trooping +forth. Not to stand beside him as the Cricket did, but to +busy and bestir themselves. To do all honour to her +image. To pull him by the skirts, and point to it when it +appeared. To cluster round it, and embrace it, and strew +flowers for it to tread on. To try to crown its fair head +with their tiny hands. To show that they were fond of it +and loved it; and that there was not one ugly, wicked or +accusatory creature to claim knowledge of it—none but their +playful and approving selves.</p> +<p>His thoughts were constant to her image. It was always +there.</p> +<p>She sat plying her needle, before the fire, and singing to +herself. Such a blithe, thriving, steady little Dot! +The fairy figures turned upon him all at once, by one consent, +with one prodigious concentrated stare, and seemed to say, +‘Is this the light wife you are mourning for!’</p> +<p>There were sounds of gaiety outside, musical instruments, and +noisy tongues, and laughter. A crowd of young merry-makers +came pouring in, among whom were May Fielding and a score of +pretty girls. Dot was the fairest of them all; as young as +any of them too. They came to summon her to join their +party. It was a dance. If ever little foot were made +for dancing, hers was, surely. But she laughed, and shook +her head, and pointed to her cookery on the fire, and her table +ready spread: with an exulting defiance that rendered her more +charming than she was before. And so she merrily dismissed +them, nodding to her would-be partners, one by one, as they +passed, but with a comical indifference, enough to make them go +and drown themselves immediately if they were her +admirers—and they must have been so, more or less; they +couldn’t help it. And yet indifference was not her +character. O no! For presently, there came a certain +Carrier to the door; and bless her what a welcome she bestowed +upon him!</p> +<p>Again the staring figures turned upon him all at once, and +seemed to say, ‘Is this the wife who has forsaken +you!’</p> +<p>A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture: call it what you +will. A great shadow of the Stranger, as he first stood +underneath their roof; covering its surface, and blotting out all +other objects. But the nimble Fairies worked like bees to +clear it off again. And Dot again was there. Still +bright and beautiful.</p> +<p>Rocking her little Baby in its cradle, singing to it softly, +and resting her head upon a shoulder which had its counterpart in +the musing figure by which the Fairy Cricket stood.</p> +<p>The night—I mean the real night: not going by Fairy +clocks—was wearing now; and in this stage of the +Carrier’s thoughts, the moon burst out, and shone brightly +in the sky. Perhaps some calm and quiet light had risen +also, in his mind; and he could think more soberly of what had +happened.</p> +<p>Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals upon the +glass—always distinct, and big, and thoroughly +defined—it never fell so darkly as at first. Whenever +it appeared, the Fairies uttered a general cry of consternation, +and plied their little arms and legs, with inconceivable +activity, to rub it out. And whenever they got at Dot +again, and showed her to him once more, bright and beautiful, +they cheered in the most inspiring manner.</p> +<p>They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful and bright, +for they were Household Spirits to whom falsehood is +annihilation; and being so, what Dot was there for them, but the +one active, beaming, pleasant little creature who had been the +light and sun of the Carrier’s Home!</p> +<p>The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they showed her, +with the Baby, gossiping among a knot of sage old matrons, and +affecting to be wondrous old and matronly herself, and leaning in +a staid, demure old way upon her husband’s arm, +attempting—she! such a bud of a little woman—to +convey the idea of having abjured the vanities of the world in +general, and of being the sort of person to whom it was no +novelty at all to be a mother; yet in the same breath, they +showed her, laughing at the Carrier for being awkward, and +pulling up his shirt-collar to make him smart, and mincing +merrily about that very room to teach him how to dance!</p> +<p>They turned, and stared immensely at him when they showed her +with the Blind Girl; for, though she carried cheerfulness and +animation with her wheresoever she went, she bore those +influences into Caleb Plummer’s home, heaped up and running +over. The Blind Girl’s love for her, and trust in +her, and gratitude to her; her own good busy way of setting +Bertha’s thanks aside; her dexterous little arts for +filling up each moment of the visit in doing something useful to +the house, and really working hard while feigning to make +holiday; her bountiful provision of those standing delicacies, +the Veal and Ham-Pie and the bottles of Beer; her radiant little +face arriving at the door, and taking leave; the wonderful +expression in her whole self, from her neat foot to the crown of +her head, of being a part of the establishment—a something +necessary to it, which it couldn’t be without; all this the +Fairies revelled in, and loved her for. And once again they +looked upon him all at once, appealingly, and seemed to say, +while some among them nestled in her dress and fondled her, +‘Is this the wife who has betrayed your +confidence!’</p> +<p>More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long thoughtful +night, they showed her to him sitting on her favourite seat, with +her bent head, her hands clasped on her brow, her falling +hair. As he had seen her last. And when they found +her thus, they neither turned nor looked upon him, but gathered +close round her, and comforted and kissed her, and pressed on one +another to show sympathy and kindness to her, and forgot him +altogether.</p> +<p>Thus the night passed. The moon went down; the stars +grew pale; the cold day broke; the sun rose. The Carrier +still sat, musing, in the chimney corner. He had sat there, +with his head upon his hands, all night. All night the +faithful Cricket had been Chirp, Chirp, Chirping on the +Hearth. All night he had listened to its voice. All +night the household Fairies had been busy with him. All +night she had been amiable and blameless in the glass, except +when that one shadow fell upon it.</p> +<p>He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and dressed +himself. He couldn’t go about his customary cheerful +avocations—he wanted spirit for them—but it mattered +the less, that it was Tackleton’s wedding-day, and he had +arranged to make his rounds by proxy. He thought to have +gone merrily to church with Dot. But such plans were at an +end. It was their own wedding-day too. Ah! how little +he had looked for such a close to such a year!</p> +<p>The Carrier had expected that Tackleton would pay him an early +visit; and he was right. He had not walked to and fro +before his own door, many minutes, when he saw the Toy-merchant +coming in his chaise along the road. As the chaise drew +nearer, he perceived that Tackleton was dressed out sprucely for +his marriage, and that he had decorated his horse’s head +with flowers and favours.</p> +<p>The horse looked much more like a bridegroom than Tackleton, +whose half-closed eye was more disagreeably expressive than +ever. But the Carrier took little heed of this. His +thoughts had other occupation.</p> +<p>‘John Peerybingle!’ said Tackleton, with an air of +condolence. ‘My good fellow, how do you find yourself +this morning?’</p> +<p>‘I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton,’ +returned the Carrier, shaking his head: ‘for I have been a +good deal disturbed in my mind. But it’s over +now! Can you spare me half an hour or so, for some private +talk?’</p> +<p>‘I came on purpose,’ returned Tackleton, +alighting. ‘Never mind the horse. He’ll +stand quiet enough, with the reins over this post, if +you’ll give him a mouthful of hay.’</p> +<p>The Carrier having brought it from his stable, and set it +before him, they turned into the house.</p> +<p>‘You are not married before noon,’ he said, +‘I think?’</p> +<p>‘No,’ answered Tackleton. ‘Plenty of +time. Plenty of time.’</p> +<p>When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was rapping at +the Stranger’s door; which was only removed from it by a +few steps. One of her very red eyes (for Tilly had been +crying all night long, because her mistress cried) was at the +keyhole; and she was knocking very loud; and seemed +frightened.</p> +<p>‘If you please I can’t make nobody hear,’ +said Tilly, looking round. ‘I hope nobody an’t +gone and been and died if you please!’</p> +<p>This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy emphasised with various +new raps and kicks at the door; which led to no result +whatever.</p> +<p>‘Shall I go?’ said Tackleton. +‘It’s curious.’</p> +<p>The Carrier, who had turned his face from the door, signed to +him to go if he would.</p> +<p>So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy’s relief; and he too +kicked and knocked; and he too failed to get the least +reply. But he thought of trying the handle of the door; and +as it opened easily, he peeped in, looked in, went in, and soon +came running out again.</p> +<p>‘John Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton, in his +ear. ‘I hope there has been nothing—nothing +rash in the night?’</p> +<p>The Carrier turned upon him quickly.</p> +<p>‘Because he’s gone!’ said Tackleton; +‘and the window’s open. I don’t see any +marks—to be sure it’s almost on a level with the +garden: but I was afraid there might have been some—some +scuffle. Eh?’</p> +<p>He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at +him so hard. And he gave his eye, and his face, and his +whole person, a sharp twist. As if he would have screwed +the truth out of him.</p> +<p>‘Make yourself easy,’ said the Carrier. +‘He went into that room last night, without harm in word or +deed from me, and no one has entered it since. He is away +of his own free will. I’d go out gladly at that door, +and beg my bread from house to house, for life, if I could so +change the past that he had never come. But he has come and +gone. And I have done with him!’</p> +<p>‘Oh!—Well, I think he has got off pretty +easy,’ said Tackleton, taking a chair.</p> +<p>The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down too, and +shaded his face with his hand, for some little time, before +proceeding.</p> +<p>‘You showed me last night,’ he said at length, +‘my wife; my wife that I love; secretly—’</p> +<p>‘And tenderly,’ insinuated Tackleton.</p> +<p>‘Conniving at that man’s disguise, and giving him +opportunities of meeting her alone. I think there’s +no sight I wouldn’t have rather seen than that. I +think there’s no man in the world I wouldn’t have +rather had to show it me.’</p> +<p>‘I confess to having had my suspicions always,’ +said Tackleton. ‘And that has made me objectionable +here, I know.’</p> +<p>‘But as you did show it me,’ pursued the Carrier, +not minding him; ‘and as you saw her, my wife, my wife that +I love’—his voice, and eye, and hand, grew steadier +and firmer as he repeated these words: evidently in pursuance of +a steadfast purpose—‘as you saw her at this +disadvantage, it is right and just that you should also see with +my eyes, and look into my breast, and know what my mind is, upon +the subject. For it’s settled,’ said the +Carrier, regarding him attentively. ‘And nothing can +shake it now.’</p> +<p>Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, about its +being necessary to vindicate something or other; but he was +overawed by the manner of his companion. Plain and +unpolished as it was, it had a something dignified and noble in +it, which nothing but the soul of generous honour dwelling in the +man could have imparted.</p> +<p>‘I am a plain, rough man,’ pursued the Carrier, +‘with very little to recommend me. I am not a clever +man, as you very well know. I am not a young man. I +loved my little Dot, because I had seen her grow up, from a +child, in her father’s house; because I knew how precious +she was; because she had been my life, for years and years. +There’s many men I can’t compare with, who never +could have loved my little Dot like me, I think!’</p> +<p>He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time with his +foot, before resuming.</p> +<p>‘I often thought that though I wasn’t good enough +for her, I should make her a kind husband, and perhaps know her +value better than another; and in this way I reconciled it to +myself, and came to think it might be possible that we should be +married. And in the end it came about, and we were +married.’</p> +<p>‘Hah!’ said Tackleton, with a significant shake of +the head.</p> +<p>‘I had studied myself; I had had experience of myself; I +knew how much I loved her, and how happy I should be,’ +pursued the Carrier. ‘But I had not—I feel it +now—sufficiently considered her.’</p> +<p>‘To be sure,’ said Tackleton. +‘Giddiness, frivolity, fickleness, love of +admiration! Not considered! All left out of +sight! Hah!’</p> +<p>‘You had best not interrupt me,’ said the Carrier, +with some sternness, ‘till you understand me; and +you’re wide of doing so. If, yesterday, I’d +have struck that man down at a blow, who dared to breathe a word +against her, to-day I’d set my foot upon his face, if he +was my brother!’</p> +<p>The Toy-merchant gazed at him in astonishment. He went +on in a softer tone:</p> +<p>‘Did I consider,’ said the Carrier, ‘that I +took her—at her age, and with her beauty—from her +young companions, and the many scenes of which she was the +ornament; in which she was the brightest little star that ever +shone, to shut her up from day to day in my dull house, and keep +my tedious company? Did I consider how little suited I was +to her sprightly humour, and how wearisome a plodding man like me +must be, to one of her quick spirit? Did I consider that it +was no merit in me, or claim in me, that I loved her, when +everybody must, who knew her? Never. I took advantage +of her hopeful nature and her cheerful disposition; and I married +her. I wish I never had! For her sake; not for +mine!’</p> +<p>The Toy-merchant gazed at him, without winking. Even the +half-shut eye was open now.</p> +<p>‘Heaven bless her!’ said the Carrier, ‘for +the cheerful constancy with which she tried to keep the knowledge +of this from me! And Heaven help me, that, in my slow mind, +I have not found it out before! Poor child! Poor +Dot! <i>I</i> not to find it out, who have seen her eyes +fill with tears, when such a marriage as our own was spoken +of! I, who have seen the secret trembling on her lips a +hundred times, and never suspected it till last night! Poor +girl! That I could ever hope she would be fond of me! +That I could ever believe she was!’</p> +<p>‘She made a show of it,’ said Tackleton. +‘She made such a show of it, that to tell you the truth it +was the origin of my misgivings.’</p> +<p>And here he asserted the superiority of May Fielding, who +certainly made no sort of show of being fond of <i>him</i>.</p> +<p>‘She has tried,’ said the poor Carrier, with +greater emotion than he had exhibited yet; ‘I only now +begin to know how hard she has tried, to be my dutiful and +zealous wife. How good she has been; how much she has done; +how brave and strong a heart she has; let the happiness I have +known under this roof bear witness! It will be some help +and comfort to me, when I am here alone.’</p> +<p>‘Here alone?’ said Tackleton. +‘Oh! Then you do mean to take some notice of +this?’</p> +<p>‘I mean,’ returned the Carrier, ‘to do her +the greatest kindness, and make her the best reparation, in my +power. I can release her from the daily pain of an unequal +marriage, and the struggle to conceal it. She shall be as +free as I can render her.’</p> +<p>‘Make <i>her</i> reparation!’ exclaimed Tackleton, +twisting and turning his great ears with his hands. +‘There must be something wrong here. You didn’t +say that, of course.’</p> +<p>The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy-merchant, +and shook him like a reed.</p> +<p>‘Listen to me!’ he said. ‘And take +care that you hear me right. Listen to me. Do I speak +plainly?’</p> +<p>‘Very plainly indeed,’ answered Tackleton.</p> +<p>‘As if I meant it?’</p> +<p>‘Very much as if you meant it.’</p> +<p>‘I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night,’ +exclaimed the Carrier. ‘On the spot where she has +often sat beside me, with her sweet face looking into mine. +I called up her whole life, day by day. I had her dear +self, in its every passage, in review before me. And upon +my soul she is innocent, if there is One to judge the innocent +and guilty!’</p> +<p>Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household +Fairies!</p> +<p>‘Passion and distrust have left me!’ said the +Carrier; ‘and nothing but my grief remains. In an +unhappy moment some old lover, better suited to her tastes and +years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me, against her will; +returned. In an unhappy moment, taken by surprise, and +wanting time to think of what she did, she made herself a party +to his treachery, by concealing it. Last night she saw him, +in the interview we witnessed. It was wrong. But +otherwise than this she is innocent if there is truth on +earth!’</p> +<p>‘If that is your opinion’—Tackleton +began.</p> +<p>‘So, let her go!’ pursued the Carrier. +‘Go, with my blessing for the many happy hours she has +given me, and my forgiveness for any pang she has caused +me. Let her go, and have the peace of mind I wish +her! She’ll never hate me. She’ll learn +to like me better, when I’m not a drag upon her, and she +wears the chain I have riveted, more lightly. This is the +day on which I took her, with so little thought for her +enjoyment, from her home. To-day she shall return to it, +and I will trouble her no more. Her father and mother will +be here to-day—we had made a little plan for keeping it +together—and they shall take her home. I can trust +her, there, or anywhere. She leaves me without blame, and +she will live so I am sure. If I should die—I may +perhaps while she is still young; I have lost some courage in a +few hours—she’ll find that I remembered her, and +loved her to the last! This is the end of what you showed +me. Now, it’s over!’</p> +<p>‘O no, John, not over. Do not say it’s over +yet! Not quite yet. I have heard your noble +words. I could not steal away, pretending to be ignorant of +what has affected me with such deep gratitude. Do not say +it’s over, ‘till the clock has struck +again!’</p> +<p>She had entered shortly after Tackleton, and had remained +there. She never looked at Tackleton, but fixed her eyes +upon her husband. But she kept away from him, setting as +wide a space as possible between them; and though she spoke with +most impassioned earnestness, she went no nearer to him even +then. How different in this from her old self!</p> +<p>‘No hand can make the clock which will strike again for +me the hours that are gone,’ replied the Carrier, with a +faint smile. ‘But let it be so, if you will, my +dear. It will strike soon. It’s of little +matter what we say. I’d try to please you in a harder +case than that.’</p> +<p>‘Well!’ muttered Tackleton. ‘I must be +off, for when the clock strikes again, it’ll be necessary +for me to be upon my way to church. Good morning, John +Peerybingle. I’m sorry to be deprived of the pleasure +of your company. Sorry for the loss, and the occasion of it +too!’</p> +<p>‘I have spoken plainly?’ said the Carrier, +accompanying him to the door.</p> +<p>‘Oh quite!’</p> +<p>‘And you’ll remember what I have said?’</p> +<p>‘Why, if you compel me to make the observation,’ +said Tackleton, previously taking the precaution of getting into +his chaise; ‘I must say that it was so very unexpected, +that I’m far from being likely to forget it.’</p> +<p>‘The better for us both,’ returned the +Carrier. ‘Good bye. I give you joy!’</p> +<p>‘I wish I could give it to <i>you</i>,’ said +Tackleton. ‘As I can’t; thank’ee. +Between ourselves, (as I told you before, eh?) I don’t much +think I shall have the less joy in my married life, because May +hasn’t been too officious about me, and too +demonstrative. Good bye! Take care of +yourself.’</p> +<p>The Carrier stood looking after him until he was smaller in +the distance than his horse’s flowers and favours near at +hand; and then, with a deep sigh, went strolling like a restless, +broken man, among some neighbouring elms; unwilling to return +until the clock was on the eve of striking.</p> +<p>His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; but often +dried her eyes and checked herself, to say how good he was, how +excellent he was! and once or twice she laughed; so heartily, +triumphantly, and incoherently (still crying all the time), that +Tilly was quite horrified.</p> +<p>‘Ow if you please don’t!’ said Tilly. +‘It’s enough to dead and bury the Baby, so it is if +you please.’</p> +<p>‘Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, +Tilly,’ inquired her mistress, drying her eyes; ‘when +I can’t live here, and have gone to my old home?’</p> +<p>‘Ow if you please don’t!’ cried Tilly, +throwing back her head, and bursting out into a howl—she +looked at the moment uncommonly like Boxer. ‘Ow if +you please don’t! Ow, what has everybody gone and +been and done with everybody, making everybody else so +wretched! Ow-w-w-w!’</p> +<p>The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, into +such a deplorable howl, the more tremendous from its long +suppression, that she must infallibly have awakened the Baby, and +frightened him into something serious (probably convulsions), if +her eyes had not encountered Caleb Plummer, leading in his +daughter. This spectacle restoring her to a sense of the +proprieties, she stood for some few moments silent, with her +mouth wide open; and then, posting off to the bed on which the +Baby lay asleep, danced in a weird, Saint Vitus manner on the +floor, and at the same time rummaged with her face and head among +the bedclothes, apparently deriving much relief from those +extraordinary operations.</p> +<p>‘Mary!’ said Bertha. ‘Not at the +marriage!’</p> +<p>‘I told her you would not be there, mum,’ +whispered Caleb. ‘I heard as much last night. +But bless you,’ said the little man, taking her tenderly by +both hands, ‘I don’t care for what they say. I +don’t believe them. There an’t much of me, but +that little should be torn to pieces sooner than I’d trust +a word against you!’</p> +<p>He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might +have hugged one of his own dolls.</p> +<p>‘Bertha couldn’t stay at home this morning,’ +said Caleb. ‘She was afraid, I know, to hear the +bells ring, and couldn’t trust herself to be so near them +on their wedding-day. So we started in good time, and came +here. I have been thinking of what I have done,’ said +Caleb, after a moment’s pause; ‘I have been blaming +myself till I hardly knew what to do or where to turn, for the +distress of mind I have caused her; and I’ve come to the +conclusion that I’d better, if you’ll stay with me, +mum, the while, tell her the truth. You’ll stay with +me the while?’ he inquired, trembling from head to +foot. ‘I don’t know what effect it may have +upon her; I don’t know what she’ll think of me; I +don’t know that she’ll ever care for her poor father +afterwards. But it’s best for her that she should be +undeceived, and I must bear the consequences as I +deserve!’</p> +<p>‘Mary,’ said Bertha, ‘where is your +hand! Ah! Here it is here it is!’ pressing it +to her lips, with a smile, and drawing it through her arm. +‘I heard them speaking softly among themselves, last night, +of some blame against you. They were wrong.’</p> +<p>The Carrier’s Wife was silent. Caleb answered for +her.</p> +<p>‘They were wrong,’ he said.</p> +<p>‘I knew it!’ cried Bertha, proudly. ‘I +told them so. I scorned to hear a word! Blame +<i>her</i> with justice!’ she pressed the hand between her +own, and the soft cheek against her face. ‘No! +I am not so blind as that.’</p> +<p>Her father went on one side of her, while Dot remained upon +the other: holding her hand.</p> +<p>‘I know you all,’ said Bertha, ‘better than +you think. But none so well as her. Not even you, +father. There is nothing half so real and so true about me, +as she is. If I could be restored to sight this instant, +and not a word were spoken, I could choose her from a +crowd! My sister!’</p> +<p>‘Bertha, my dear!’ said Caleb, ‘I have +something on my mind I want to tell you, while we three are +alone. Hear me kindly! I have a confession to make to +you, my darling.’</p> +<p>‘A confession, father?’</p> +<p>‘I have wandered from the truth and lost myself, my +child,’ said Caleb, with a pitiable expression in his +bewildered face. ‘I have wandered from the truth, +intending to be kind to you; and have been cruel.’</p> +<p>She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him, and repeated +‘Cruel!’</p> +<p>‘He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha,’ said +Dot. ‘You’ll say so, presently. +You’ll be the first to tell him so.’</p> +<p>‘He cruel to me!’ cried Bertha, with a smile of +incredulity.</p> +<p>‘Not meaning it, my child,’ said Caleb. +‘But I have been; though I never suspected it, till +yesterday. My dear blind daughter, hear me and forgive +me! The world you live in, heart of mine, doesn’t +exist as I have represented it. The eyes you have trusted +in, have been false to you.’</p> +<p>She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him still; but +drew back, and clung closer to her friend.</p> +<p>‘Your road in life was rough, my poor one,’ said +Caleb, ‘and I meant to smooth it for you. I have +altered objects, changed the characters of people, invented many +things that never have been, to make you happier. I have +had concealments from you, put deceptions on you, God forgive me! +and surrounded you with fancies.’</p> +<p>‘But living people are not fancies!’ she said +hurriedly, and turning very pale, and still retiring from +him. ‘You can’t change them.’</p> +<p>‘I have done so, Bertha,’ pleaded Caleb. +‘There is one person that you know, my +dove—’</p> +<p>‘Oh father! why do you say, I know?’ she answered, +in a term of keen reproach. ‘What and whom do +<i>I</i> know! I who have no leader! I so miserably +blind.’</p> +<p>In the anguish of her heart, she stretched out her hands, as +if she were groping her way; then spread them, in a manner most +forlorn and sad, upon her face.</p> +<p>‘The marriage that takes place to-day,’ said +Caleb, ‘is with a stern, sordid, grinding man. A hard +master to you and me, my dear, for many years. Ugly in his +looks, and in his nature. Cold and callous always. +Unlike what I have painted him to you in everything, my +child. In everything.’</p> +<p>‘Oh why,’ cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it +seemed, almost beyond endurance, ‘why did you ever do +this! Why did you ever fill my heart so full, and then come +in like Death, and tear away the objects of my love! O +Heaven, how blind I am! How helpless and alone!’</p> +<p>Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no reply but +in his penitence and sorrow.</p> +<p>She had been but a short time in this passion of regret, when +the Cricket on the Hearth, unheard by all but her, began to +chirp. Not merrily, but in a low, faint, sorrowing +way. It was so mournful that her tears began to flow; and +when the Presence which had been beside the Carrier all night, +appeared behind her, pointing to her father, they fell down like +rain.</p> +<p>She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was +conscious, through her blindness, of the Presence hovering about +her father.</p> +<p>‘Mary,’ said the Blind Girl, ‘tell me what +my home is. What it truly is.’</p> +<p>‘It is a poor place, Bertha; very poor and bare +indeed. The house will scarcely keep out wind and rain +another winter. It is as roughly shielded from the weather, +Bertha,’ Dot continued in a low, clear voice, ‘as +your poor father in his sack-cloth coat.’</p> +<p>The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the +Carrier’s little wife aside.</p> +<p>‘Those presents that I took such care of; that came +almost at my wish, and were so dearly welcome to me,’ she +said, trembling; ‘where did they come from? Did you +send them?’</p> +<p>‘No.’</p> +<p>‘Who then?’</p> +<p>Dot saw she knew, already, and was silent. The Blind +Girl spread her hands before her face again. But in quite +another manner now.</p> +<p>‘Dear Mary, a moment. One moment? More this +way. Speak softly to me. You are true, I know. +You’d not deceive me now; would you?’</p> +<p>‘No, Bertha, indeed!’</p> +<p>‘No, I am sure you would not. You have too much +pity for me. Mary, look across the room to where we were +just now—to where my father is—my father, so +compassionate and loving to me—and tell me what you +see.’</p> +<p>‘I see,’ said Dot, who understood her well, +‘an old man sitting in a chair, and leaning sorrowfully on +the back, with his face resting on his hand. As if his +child should comfort him, Bertha.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, yes. She will. Go on.’</p> +<p>‘He is an old man, worn with care and work. He is +a spare, dejected, thoughtful, grey-haired man. I see him +now, despondent and bowed down, and striving against +nothing. But, Bertha, I have seen him many times before, +and striving hard in many ways for one great sacred object. +And I honour his grey head, and bless him!’</p> +<p>The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing herself upon +her knees before him, took the grey head to her breast.</p> +<p>‘It is my sight restored. It is my sight!’ +she cried. ‘I have been blind, and now my eyes are +open. I never knew him! To think I might have died, +and never truly seen the father who has been so loving to +me!’</p> +<p>There were no words for Caleb’s emotion.</p> +<p>‘There is not a gallant figure on this earth,’ +exclaimed the Blind Girl, holding him in her embrace, ‘that +I would love so dearly, and would cherish so devotedly, as +this! The greyer, and more worn, the dearer, father! +Never let them say I am blind again. There’s not a +furrow in his face, there’s not a hair upon his head, that +shall be forgotten in my prayers and thanks to Heaven!’</p> +<p>Caleb managed to articulate ‘My Bertha!’</p> +<p>‘And in my blindness, I believed him,’ said the +girl, caressing him with tears of exquisite affection, ‘to +be so different! And having him beside me, day by day, so +mindful of me—always, never dreamed of this!’</p> +<p>‘The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha,’ +said poor Caleb. ‘He’s gone!’</p> +<p>‘Nothing is gone,’ she answered. +‘Dearest father, no! Everything is here—in +you. The father that I loved so well; the father that I +never loved enough, and never knew; the benefactor whom I first +began to reverence and love, because he had such sympathy for me; +All are here in you. Nothing is dead to me. The soul +of all that was most dear to me is here—here, with the worn +face, and the grey head. And I am <span +class="GutSmall">NOT</span> blind, father, any longer!’</p> +<p>Dot’s whole attention had been concentrated, during this +discourse, upon the father and daughter; but looking, now, +towards the little Haymaker in the Moorish meadow, she saw that +the clock was within a few minutes of striking, and fell, +immediately, into a nervous and excited state.</p> +<p>‘Father,’ said Bertha, hesitating. +‘Mary.’</p> +<p>‘Yes, my dear,’ returned Caleb. ‘Here +she is.’</p> +<p>‘There is no change in <i>her</i>. You never told +me anything of <i>her</i> that was not true?’</p> +<p>‘I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid,’ +returned Caleb, ‘if I could have made her better than she +was. But I must have changed her for the worse, if I had +changed her at all. Nothing could improve her, +Bertha.’</p> +<p>Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked the +question, her delight and pride in the reply and her renewed +embrace of Dot, were charming to behold.</p> +<p>‘More changes than you think for, may happen though, my +dear,’ said Dot. ‘Changes for the better, I +mean; changes for great joy to some of us. You +mustn’t let them startle you too much, if any such should +ever happen, and affect you? Are those wheels upon the +road? You’ve a quick ear, Bertha. Are they +wheels?’</p> +<p>‘Yes. Coming very fast.’</p> +<p>‘I—I—I know you have a quick ear,’ +said Dot, placing her hand upon her heart, and evidently talking +on, as fast as she could to hide its palpitating state, +‘because I have noticed it often, and because you were so +quick to find out that strange step last night. Though why +you should have said, as I very well recollect you did say, +Bertha, “Whose step is that!” and why you should have +taken any greater observation of it than of any other step, I +don’t know. Though as I said just now, there are +great changes in the world: great changes: and we can’t do +better than prepare ourselves to be surprised at hardly +anything.’</p> +<p>Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that she spoke to +him, no less than to his daughter. He saw her, with +astonishment, so fluttered and distressed that she could scarcely +breathe; and holding to a chair, to save herself from +falling.</p> +<p>‘They are wheels indeed!’ she panted. +‘Coming nearer! Nearer! Very close! And +now you hear them stopping at the garden-gate! And now you +hear a step outside the door—the same step, Bertha, is it +not!—and now!’—</p> +<p>She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; and running +up to Caleb put her hands upon his eyes, as a young man rushed +into the room, and flinging away his hat into the air, came +sweeping down upon them.</p> +<p>‘Is it over?’ cried Dot.</p> +<p>‘Yes!’</p> +<p>‘Happily over?’</p> +<p>‘Yes!’</p> +<p>‘Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you +ever hear the like of it before?’ cried Dot.</p> +<p>‘If my boy in the Golden South Americas was +alive’—said Caleb, trembling.</p> +<p>‘He is alive!’ shrieked Dot, removing her hands +from his eyes, and clapping them in ecstasy; ‘look at +him! See where he stands before you, healthy and +strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear living, +loving brother, Bertha!’</p> +<p>All honour to the little creature for her transports! +All honour to her tears and laughter, when the three were locked +in one another’s arms! All honour to the heartiness +with which she met the sunburnt sailor-fellow, with his dark +streaming hair, half-way, and never turned her rosy little mouth +aside, but suffered him to kiss it, freely, and to press her to +his bounding heart!</p> +<p>And honour to the Cuckoo too—why not!—for bursting +out of the trap-door in the Moorish Palace like a house-breaker, +and hiccoughing twelve times on the assembled company, as if he +had got drunk for joy!</p> +<p>The Carrier, entering, started back. And well he might, +to find himself in such good company.</p> +<p>‘Look, John!’ said Caleb, exultingly, ‘look +here! My own boy from the Golden South Americas! My +own son! Him that you fitted out, and sent away +yourself! Him that you were always such a friend +to!’</p> +<p>The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, +as some feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf +Man in the Cart, said:</p> +<p>‘Edward! Was it you?’</p> +<p>‘Now tell him all!’ cried Dot. ‘Tell +him all, Edward; and don’t spare me, for nothing shall make +me spare myself in his eyes, ever again.’</p> +<p>‘I was the man,’ said Edward.</p> +<p>‘And could you steal, disguised, into the house of your +old friend?’ rejoined the Carrier. ‘There was a +frank boy once—how many years is it, Caleb, since we heard +that he was dead, and had it proved, we thought?—who never +would have done that.’</p> +<p>‘There was a generous friend of mine, once; more a +father to me than a friend;’ said Edward, ‘who never +would have judged me, or any other man, unheard. You were +he. So I am certain you will hear me now.’</p> +<p>The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still kept far +away from him, replied, ‘Well! that’s but fair. +I will.’</p> +<p>‘You must know that when I left here, a boy,’ said +Edward, ‘I was in love, and my love was returned. She +was a very young girl, who perhaps (you may tell me) didn’t +know her own mind. But I knew mine, and I had a passion for +her.’</p> +<p>‘You had!’ exclaimed the Carrier. +‘You!’</p> +<p>‘Indeed I had,’ returned the other. +‘And she returned it. I have ever since believed she +did, and now I am sure she did.’</p> +<p>‘Heaven help me!’ said the Carrier. +‘This is worse than all.’</p> +<p>‘Constant to her,’ said Edward, ‘and +returning, full of hope, after many hardships and perils, to +redeem my part of our old contract, I heard, twenty miles away, +that she was false to me; that she had forgotten me; and had +bestowed herself upon another and a richer man. I had no +mind to reproach her; but I wished to see her, and to prove +beyond dispute that this was true. I hoped she might have +been forced into it, against her own desire and +recollection. It would be small comfort, but it would be +some, I thought, and on I came. That I might have the +truth, the real truth; observing freely for myself, and judging +for myself, without obstruction on the one hand, or presenting my +own influence (if I had any) before her, on the other; I dressed +myself unlike myself—you know how; and waited on the +road—you know where. You had no suspicion of me; +neither had—had she,’ pointing to Dot, ‘until I +whispered in her ear at that fireside, and she so nearly betrayed +me.’</p> +<p>‘But when she knew that Edward was alive, and had come +back,’ sobbed Dot, now speaking for herself, as she had +burned to do, all through this narrative; ‘and when she +knew his purpose, she advised him by all means to keep his secret +close; for his old friend John Peerybingle was much too open in +his nature, and too clumsy in all artifice—being a clumsy +man in general,’ said Dot, half laughing and half +crying—‘to keep it for him. And when +she—that’s me, John,’ sobbed the little +woman—‘told him all, and how his sweetheart had +believed him to be dead; and how she had at last been +over-persuaded by her mother into a marriage which the silly, +dear old thing called advantageous; and when +she—that’s me again, John—told him they were +not yet married (though close upon it), and that it would be +nothing but a sacrifice if it went on, for there was no love on +her side; and when he went nearly mad with joy to hear it; then +she—that’s me again—said she would go between +them, as she had often done before in old times, John, and would +sound his sweetheart and be sure that what she—me again, +John—said and thought was right. And it was right, +John! And they were brought together, John! And they +were married, John, an hour ago! And here’s the +Bride! And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! +And I’m a happy little woman, May, God bless +you!’</p> +<p>She was an irresistible little woman, if that be anything to +the purpose; and never so completely irresistible as in her +present transports. There never were congratulations so +endearing and delicious, as those she lavished on herself and on +the Bride.</p> +<p>Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the honest Carrier +had stood, confounded. Flying, now, towards her, Dot +stretched out her hand to stop him, and retreated as before.</p> +<p>‘No, John, no! Hear all! Don’t love me +any more, John, till you’ve heard every word I have to +say. It was wrong to have a secret from you, John. +I’m very sorry. I didn’t think it any harm, +till I came and sat down by you on the little stool last +night. But when I knew by what was written in your face, +that you had seen me walking in the gallery with Edward, and when +I knew what you thought, I felt how giddy and how wrong it +was. But oh, dear John, how could you, could you, think +so!’</p> +<p>Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peerybingle +would have caught her in his arms. But no; she +wouldn’t let him.</p> +<p>‘Don’t love me yet, please, John! Not for a +long time yet! When I was sad about this intended marriage, +dear, it was because I remembered May and Edward such young +lovers; and knew that her heart was far away from +Tackleton. You believe that, now. Don’t you, +John?’</p> +<p>John was going to make another rush at this appeal; but she +stopped him again.</p> +<p>‘No; keep there, please, John! When I laugh at +you, as I sometimes do, John, and call you clumsy and a dear old +goose, and names of that sort, it’s because I love you, +John, so well, and take such pleasure in your ways, and +wouldn’t see you altered in the least respect to have you +made a King to-morrow.’</p> +<p>‘Hooroar!’ said Caleb with unusual vigour. +‘My opinion!’</p> +<p>‘And when I speak of people being middle-aged, and +steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum couple, going on +in a jog-trot sort of way, it’s only because I’m such +a silly little thing, John, that I like, sometimes, to act a kind +of Play with Baby, and all that: and make believe.’</p> +<p>She saw that he was coming; and stopped him again. But +she was very nearly too late.</p> +<p>‘No, don’t love me for another minute or two, if +you please, John! What I want most to tell you, I have kept +to the last. My dear, good, generous John, when we were +talking the other night about the Cricket, I had it on my lips to +say, that at first I did not love you quite so dearly as I do +now; that when I first came home here, I was half afraid I +mightn’t learn to love you every bit as well as I hoped and +prayed I might—being so very young, John! But, dear +John, every day and hour I loved you more and more. And if +I could have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard +you say this morning, would have made me. But I +can’t. All the affection that I had (it was a great +deal, John) I gave you, as you well deserve, long, long ago, and +I have no more left to give. Now, my dear husband, take me +to your heart again! That’s my home, John; and never, +never think of sending me to any other!’</p> +<p>You never will derive so much delight from seeing a glorious +little woman in the arms of a third party, as you would have felt +if you had seen Dot run into the Carrier’s embrace. +It was the most complete, unmitigated, soul-fraught little piece +of earnestness that ever you beheld in all your days.</p> +<p>You may be sure the Carrier was in a state of perfect rapture; +and you may be sure Dot was likewise; and you may be sure they +all were, inclusive of Miss Slowboy, who wept copiously for joy, +and wishing to include her young charge in the general +interchange of congratulations, handed round the Baby to +everybody in succession, as if it were something to drink.</p> +<p>But, now, the sound of wheels was heard again outside the +door; and somebody exclaimed that Gruff and Tackleton was coming +back. Speedily that worthy gentleman appeared, looking warm +and flustered.</p> +<p>‘Why, what the Devil’s this, John +Peerybingle!’ said Tackleton. ‘There’s +some mistake. I appointed Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at the +church, and I’ll swear I passed her on the road, on her way +here. Oh! here she is! I beg your pardon, sir; I +haven’t the pleasure of knowing you; but if you can do me +the favour to spare this young lady, she has rather a particular +engagement this morning.’</p> +<p>‘But I can’t spare her,’ returned +Edward. ‘I couldn’t think of it.’</p> +<p>‘What do you mean, you vagabond?’ said +Tackleton.</p> +<p>‘I mean, that as I can make allowance for your being +vexed,’ returned the other, with a smile, ‘I am as +deaf to harsh discourse this morning, as I was to all discourse +last night.’</p> +<p>The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and the start he +gave!</p> +<p>‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Edward, holding out +May’s left hand, and especially the third finger; +‘that the young lady can’t accompany you to church; +but as she has been there once, this morning, perhaps +you’ll excuse her.’</p> +<p>Tackleton looked hard at the third finger, and took a little +piece of silver-paper, apparently containing a ring, from his +waistcoat-pocket.</p> +<p>‘Miss Slowboy,’ said Tackleton. ‘Will +you have the kindness to throw that in the fire? +Thank’ee.’</p> +<p>‘It was a previous engagement, quite an old engagement, +that prevented my wife from keeping her appointment with you, I +assure you,’ said Edward.</p> +<p>‘Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge +that I revealed it to him faithfully; and that I told him, many +times, I never could forget it,’ said May, blushing.</p> +<p>‘Oh certainly!’ said Tackleton. ‘Oh to +be sure. Oh it’s all right. It’s quite +correct. Mrs. Edward Plummer, I infer?’</p> +<p>‘That’s the name,’ returned the +bridegroom.</p> +<p>‘Ah, I shouldn’t have known you, sir,’ said +Tackleton, scrutinising his face narrowly, and making a low +bow. ‘I give you joy, sir!’</p> +<p>‘Thank’ee.’</p> +<p>‘Mrs. Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton, turning +suddenly to where she stood with her husband; ‘I am +sorry. You haven’t done me a very great kindness, +but, upon my life I am sorry. You are better than I thought +you. John Peerybingle, I am sorry. You understand me; +that’s enough. It’s quite correct, ladies and +gentlemen all, and perfectly satisfactory. Good +morning!’</p> +<p>With these words he carried it off, and carried himself off +too: merely stopping at the door, to take the flowers and favours +from his horse’s head, and to kick that animal once, in the +ribs, as a means of informing him that there was a screw loose in +his arrangements.</p> +<p>Of course it became a serious duty now, to make such a day of +it, as should mark these events for a high Feast and Festival in +the Peerybingle Calendar for evermore. Accordingly, Dot +went to work to produce such an entertainment, as should reflect +undying honour on the house and on every one concerned; and in a +very short space of time, she was up to her dimpled elbows in +flour, and whitening the Carrier’s coat, every time he came +near her, by stopping him to give him a kiss. That good +fellow washed the greens, and peeled the turnips, and broke the +plates, and upset iron pots full of cold water on the fire, and +made himself useful in all sorts of ways: while a couple of +professional assistants, hastily called in from somewhere in the +neighbourhood, as on a point of life or death, ran against each +other in all the doorways and round all the corners, and +everybody tumbled over Tilly Slowboy and the Baby, +everywhere. Tilly never came out in such force +before. Her ubiquity was the theme of general +admiration. She was a stumbling-block in the passage at +five-and-twenty minutes past two; a man-trap in the kitchen at +half-past two precisely; and a pitfall in the garret at +five-and-twenty minutes to three. The Baby’s head +was, as it were, a test and touchstone for every description of +matter,—animal, vegetable, and mineral. Nothing was +in use that day that didn’t come, at some time or other, +into close acquaintance with it.</p> +<p>Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go and find +out Mrs. Fielding; and to be dismally penitent to that excellent +gentlewoman; and to bring her back, by force, if needful, to be +happy and forgiving. And when the Expedition first +discovered her, she would listen to no terms at all, but said, an +unspeakable number of times, that ever she should have lived to +see the day! and couldn’t be got to say anything else, +except, ‘Now carry me to the grave:’ which seemed +absurd, on account of her not being dead, or anything at all like +it. After a time, she lapsed into a state of dreadful +calmness, and observed, that when that unfortunate train of +circumstances had occurred in the Indigo Trade, she had foreseen +that she would be exposed, during her whole life, to every +species of insult and contumely; and that she was glad to find it +was the case; and begged they wouldn’t trouble themselves +about her,—for what was she? oh, dear! a nobody!—but +would forget that such a being lived, and would take their course +in life without her. From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she +passed into an angry one, in which she gave vent to the +remarkable expression that the worm would turn if trodden on; +and, after that, she yielded to a soft regret, and said, if they +had only given her their confidence, what might she not have had +it in her power to suggest! Taking advantage of this crisis +in her feelings, the Expedition embraced her; and she very soon +had her gloves on, and was on her way to John Peerybingle’s +in a state of unimpeachable gentility; with a paper parcel at her +side containing a cap of state, almost as tall, and quite as +stiff, as a mitre.</p> +<p>Then, there were Dot’s father and mother to come, in +another little chaise; and they were behind their time; and fears +were entertained; and there was much looking out for them down +the road; and Mrs. Fielding always would look in the wrong and +morally impossible direction; and being apprised thereof, hoped +she might take the liberty of looking where she pleased. At +last they came: a chubby little couple, jogging along in a snug +and comfortable little way that quite belonged to the Dot family; +and Dot and her mother, side by side, were wonderful to +see. They were so like each other.</p> +<p>Then, Dot’s mother had to renew her acquaintance with +May’s mother; and May’s mother always stood on her +gentility; and Dot’s mother never stood on anything but her +active little feet. And old Dot—so to call +Dot’s father, I forgot it wasn’t his right name, but +never mind—took liberties, and shook hands at first sight, +and seemed to think a cap but so much starch and muslin, and +didn’t defer himself at all to the Indigo Trade, but said +there was no help for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding’s +summing up, was a good-natured kind of man—but coarse, my +dear.</p> +<p>I wouldn’t have missed Dot, doing the honours in her +wedding-gown, my benison on her bright face! for any money. +No! nor the good Carrier, so jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom +of the table. Nor the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his +handsome wife. Nor any one among them. To have missed +the dinner would have been to miss as jolly and as stout a meal +as man need eat; and to have missed the overflowing cups in which +they drank The Wedding-Day, would have been the greatest miss of +all.</p> +<p>After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling +Bowl. As I’m a living man, hoping to keep so, for a +year or two, he sang it through.</p> +<p>And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident occurred, just as +he finished the last verse.</p> +<p>There was a tap at the door; and a man came staggering in, +without saying with your leave, or by your leave, with something +heavy on his head. Setting this down in the middle of the +table, symmetrically in the centre of the nuts and apples, he +said:</p> +<p>‘Mr. Tackleton’s compliments, and as he +hasn’t got no use for the cake himself, p’raps +you’ll eat it.’</p> +<p>And with those words, he walked off.</p> +<p>There was some surprise among the company, as you may +imagine. Mrs. Fielding, being a lady of infinite +discernment, suggested that the cake was poisoned, and related a +narrative of a cake, which, within her knowledge, had turned a +seminary for young ladies, blue. But she was overruled by +acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, with much ceremony and +rejoicing.</p> +<p>I don’t think any one had tasted it, when there came +another tap at the door, and the same man appeared again, having +under his arm a vast brown-paper parcel.</p> +<p>‘Mr. Tackleton’s compliments, and he’s sent +a few toys for the Babby. They ain’t ugly.’</p> +<p>After the delivery of which expressions, he retired again.</p> +<p>The whole party would have experienced great difficulty in +finding words for their astonishment, even if they had had ample +time to seek them. But they had none at all; for the +messenger had scarcely shut the door behind him, when there came +another tap, and Tackleton himself walked in.</p> +<p>‘Mrs. Peerybingle!’ said the Toy-merchant, hat in +hand. ‘I’m sorry. I’m more sorry +than I was this morning. I have had time to think of +it. John Peerybingle! I’m sour by disposition; +but I can’t help being sweetened, more or less, by coming +face to face with such a man as you. Caleb! This +unconscious little nurse gave me a broken hint last night, of +which I have found the thread. I blush to think how easily +I might have bound you and your daughter to me, and what a +miserable idiot I was, when I took her for one! Friends, +one and all, my house is very lonely to-night. I have not +so much as a Cricket on my Hearth. I have scared them all +away. Be gracious to me; let me join this happy +party!’</p> +<p>He was at home in five minutes. You never saw such a +fellow. What <i>had</i> he been doing with himself all his +life, never to have known, before, his great capacity of being +jovial! Or what had the Fairies been doing with him, to +have effected such a change!</p> +<p>‘John! you won’t send me home this evening; will +you?’ whispered Dot.</p> +<p>He had been very near it though!</p> +<p>There wanted but one living creature to make the party +complete; and, in the twinkling of an eye, there he was, very +thirsty with hard running, and engaged in hopeless endeavours to +squeeze his head into a narrow pitcher. He had gone with +the cart to its journey’s end, very much disgusted with the +absence of his master, and stupendously rebellious to the +Deputy. After lingering about the stable for some little +time, vainly attempting to incite the old horse to the mutinous +act of returning on his own account, he had walked into the +tap-room and laid himself down before the fire. But +suddenly yielding to the conviction that the Deputy was a humbug, +and must be abandoned, he had got up again, turned tail, and come +home.</p> +<p>There was a dance in the evening. With which general +mention of that recreation, I should have left it alone, if I had +not some reason to suppose that it was quite an original dance, +and one of a most uncommon figure. It was formed in an odd +way; in this way.</p> +<p>Edward, that sailor-fellow—a good free dashing sort of a +fellow he was—had been telling them various marvels +concerning parrots, and mines, and Mexicans, and gold dust, when +all at once he took it in his head to jump up from his seat and +propose a dance; for Bertha’s harp was there, and she had +such a hand upon it as you seldom hear. Dot (sly little +piece of affectation when she chose) said her dancing days were +over; <i>I</i> think because the Carrier was smoking his pipe, +and she liked sitting by him, best. Mrs. Fielding had no +choice, of course, but to say <i>her</i> dancing days were over, +after that; and everybody said the same, except May; May was +ready.</p> +<p>So, May and Edward got up, amid great applause, to dance +alone; and Bertha plays her liveliest tune.</p> +<p>Well! if you’ll believe me, they have not been dancing +five minutes, when suddenly the Carrier flings his pipe away, +takes Dot round the waist, dashes out into the room, and starts +off with her, toe and heel, quite wonderfully. Tackleton no +sooner sees this, than he skims across to Mrs. Fielding, takes +her round the waist, and follows suit. Old Dot no sooner +sees this, than up he is, all alive, whisks off Mrs. Dot in the +middle of the dance, and is the foremost there. Caleb no +sooner sees this, than he clutches Tilly Slowboy by both hands +and goes off at score; Miss Slowboy, firm in the belief that +diving hotly in among the other couples, and effecting any number +of concussions with them, is your only principle of footing +it.</p> +<p>Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its Chirp, Chirp, +Chirp; and how the kettle hums!</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>But what is this! Even as I listen to them, blithely, +and turn towards Dot, for one last glimpse of a little figure +very pleasant to me, she and the rest have vanished into air, and +I am left alone. A Cricket sings upon the Hearth; a broken +child’s-toy lies upon the ground; and nothing else +remains.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 678-h.htm or 678-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/7/678 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/678-h/images/p0b.jpg b/678-h/images/p0b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f9533d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/678-h/images/p0b.jpg diff --git a/678-h/images/p0s.jpg b/678-h/images/p0s.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9b770c --- /dev/null +++ b/678-h/images/p0s.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f35c19 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #678 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/678) diff --git a/old/tcoth10.txt b/old/tcoth10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a7dfd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcoth10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3999 @@ +****The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Cricket on the Hearth**** +#10 in our series by Charles Dickens + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +The Cricket on the Hearth + +by Charles Dickens + +October, 1996 [Etext #678] + + +****The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Cricket on the Hearth**** +*****This file should be named tcoth10.txt or tcoth10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, tcoth11.txt. +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, tcoth10a.txt. + + +We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance +of the official release dates, for time for better editing. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an +up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes +in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has +a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a +look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a +new copy has at least one byte more or less. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text +files per month: or 400 more Etexts in 1996 for a total of 800. +If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the +total should reach 80 billion Etexts. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001 +should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it +will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001. + + +We need your donations more than ever! + + +All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/BU": and are +tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (BU = Benedictine +University). (Subscriptions to our paper newsletter go to BU.) + +For these and other matters, please mail to: + +Project Gutenberg +P. O. Box 2782 +Champaign, IL 61825 + +When all other email fails try our Executive Director: +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +We would prefer to send you this information by email +(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail). + +****** +If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please +FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives: +[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type] + +ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd etext/etext90 through /etext96 +or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information] +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET INDEX?00.GUT +for a list of books +and +GET NEW GUT for general information +and +MGET GUT* for newsletters. + +**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor** +(Three Pages) + + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG- +tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor +Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at +Benedictine University (the "Project"). Among other +things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word pro- + cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + net profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Benedictine + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Benedictine University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +The Cricket on the Hearth by Charles Dickens +SCanned and David Price ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +The Cricket on the Hearth + + + + + +CHAPTER I - Chrip the First + + + +THE kettle began it! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I +know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the end of +time that she couldn't say which of them began it; but, I say the +kettle did. I ought to know, I hope! The kettle began it, full +five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, +before the Cricket uttered a chirp. + +As if the clock hadn't finished striking, and the convulsive little +Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away right and left with a +scythe in front of a Moorish Palace, hadn't mowed down half an acre +of imaginary grass before the Cricket joined in at all! + +Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one knows that. I +wouldn't set my own opinion against the opinion of Mrs. +Peerybingle, unless I were quite sure, on any account whatever. +Nothing should induce me. But, this is a question of act. And the +fact is, that the kettle began it, at least five minutes before the +Cricket gave any sign of being in existence. Contradict me, and +I'll say ten. + +Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should have proceeded to +do so in my very first word, but for this plain consideration - if +I am to tell a story I must begin at the beginning; and how is it +possible to begin at the beginning, without beginning at the +kettle? + +It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of skill, +you must understand, between the kettle and the Cricket. And this +is what led to it, and how it came about. + +Mrs. Peerybingle, going out into the raw twilight, and clicking +over the wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked innumerable +rough impressions of the first proposition in Euclid all about the +yard - Mrs. Peerybingle filled the kettle at the water-butt. +Presently returning, less the pattens (and a good deal less, for +they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle was but short), she set the +kettle on the fire. In doing which she lost her temper, or mislaid +it for an instant; for, the water being uncomfortably cold, and in +that slippy, slushy, sleety sort of state wherein it seems to +penetrate through every kind of substance, patten rings included - +had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle's toes, and even splashed her +legs. And when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) upon +our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat in point of +stockings, we find this, for the moment, hard to bear. + +Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn't +allow itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn't hear of +accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal; it WOULD lean +forward with a drunken air, and dribble, a very Idiot of a kettle, +on the hearth. It was quarrelsome, and hissed and spluttered +morosely at the fire. To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. +Peerybingle's fingers, first of all turned topsy-turvy, and then, +with an ingenious pertinacity deserving of a better cause, dived +sideways in - down to the very bottom of the kettle. And the hull +of the Royal George has never made half the monstrous resistance to +coming out of the water, which the lid of that kettle employed +against Mrs. Peerybingle, before she got it up again. + +It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then; carrying its +handle with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly and +mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, 'I won't boil. +Nothing shall induce me!' + +But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her chubby +little hands against each other, and sat down before the kettle, +laughing. Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and +gleaming on the little Haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, +until one might have thought he stood stock still before the +Moorish Palace, and nothing was in motion but the flame. + +He was on the move, however; and had his spasms, two to the second, +all right and regular. But, his sufferings when the clock was +going to strike, were frightful to behold; and, when a Cuckoo +looked out of a trap-door in the Palace, and gave note six times, +it shook him, each time, like a spectral voice - or like a +something wiry, plucking at his legs. + +It was not until a violent commotion and a whirring noise among the +weights and ropes below him had quite subsided, that this terrified +Haymaker became himself again. Nor was he startled without reason; +for these rattling, bony skeletons of clocks are very disconcerting +in their operation, and I wonder very much how any set of men, but +most of all how Dutchmen, can have had a liking to invent them. +There is a popular belief that Dutchmen love broad cases and much +clothing for their own lower selves; and they might know better +than to leave their clocks so very lank and unprotected, surely. + +Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the +evening. Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and musical, +began to have irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge +in short vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn't +quite made up its mind yet, to be good company. Now it was, that +after two or three such vain attempts to stifle its convivial +sentiments, it threw off all moroseness, all reserve, and burst +into a stream of song so cosy and hilarious, as never maudlin +nightingale yet formed the least idea of. + +So plain too! Bless you, you might have understood it like a book +- better than some books you and I could name, perhaps. With its +warm breath gushing forth in a light cloud which merrily and +gracefully ascended a few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner +as its own domestic Heaven, it trolled its song with that strong +energy of cheerfulness, that its iron body hummed and stirred upon +the fire; and the lid itself, the recently rebellious lid - such is +the influence of a bright example - performed a sort of jig, and +clattered like a deaf and dumb young cymbal that had never known +the use of its twin brother. + +That this song of the kettle's was a song of invitation and welcome +to somebody out of doors: to somebody at that moment coming on, +towards the snug small home and the crisp fire: there is no doubt +whatever. Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as she sat musing +before the hearth. It's a dark night, sang the kettle, and the +rotten leaves are lying by the way; and, above, all is mist and +darkness, and, below, all is mire and clay; and there's only one +relief in all the sad and murky air; and I don't know that it is +one, for it's nothing but a glare; of deep and angry crimson, where +the sun and wind together; set a brand upon the clouds for being +guilty of such weather; and the widest open country is a long dull +streak of black; and there's hoar-frost on the finger-post, and +thaw upon the track; and the ice it isn't water, and the water +isn't free; and you couldn't say that anything is what it ought to +be; but he's coming, coming, coming! - + +And here, if you like, the Cricket DID chime in! with a Chirrup, +Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice +so astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared with the +kettle; (size! you couldn't see it!) that if it had then and there +burst itself like an overcharged gun, if it had fallen a victim on +the spot, and chirruped its little body into fifty pieces, it would +have seemed a natural and inevitable consequence, for which it had +expressly laboured. + +The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It persevered +with undiminished ardour; but the Cricket took first fiddle and +kept it. Good Heaven, how it chirped! Its shrill, sharp, piercing +voice resounded through the house, and seemed to twinkle in the +outer darkness like a star. There was an indescribable little +trill and tremble in it, at its loudest, which suggested its being +carried off its legs, and made to leap again, by its own intense +enthusiasm. Yet they went very well together, the Cricket and the +kettle. The burden of the song was still the same; and louder, +louder, louder still, they sang it in their emulation. + +The fair little listener - for fair she was, and young: though +something of what is called the dumpling shape; but I don't myself +object to that - lighted a candle, glanced at the Haymaker on the +top of the clock, who was getting in a pretty average crop of +minutes; and looked out of the window, where she saw nothing, owing +to the darkness, but her own face imaged in the glass. And my +opinion is (and so would yours have been), that she might have +looked a long way, and seen nothing half so agreeable. When she +came back, and sat down in her former seat, the Cricket and the +kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect fury of +competition. The kettle's weak side clearly being, that he didn't +know when he was beat. + +There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, +chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle +making play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, +chirp! Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle +sticking to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, +chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! +Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket going in to +finish him. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle not to be finished. +Until at last they got so jumbled together, in the hurry-skurry, +helter-skelter, of the match, that whether the kettle chirped and +the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the kettle hummed, +or they both chirped and both hummed, it would have taken a clearer +head than yours or mine to have decided with anything like +certainty. But, of this, there is no doubt: that, the kettle and +the Cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some power of +amalgamation best known to themselves, sent, each, his fireside +song of comfort streaming into a ray of the candle that shone out +through the window, and a long way down the lane. And this light, +bursting on a certain person who, on the instant, approached +towards it through the gloom, expressed the whole thing to him, +literally in a twinkling, and cried, 'Welcome home, old fellow! +Welcome home, my boy!' + +This end attained, the kettle, being dead beat, boiled over, and +was taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then went running to the +door, where, what with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, +the voice of a man, the tearing in and out of an excited dog, and +the surprising and mysterious appearance of a baby, there was soon +the very What's-his-name to pay. + +Where the baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle got hold of it in +that flash of time, I don't know. But a live baby there was, in +Mrs. Peerybingle's arms; and a pretty tolerable amount of pride she +seemed to have in it, when she was drawn gently to the fire, by a +sturdy figure of a man, much taller and much older than herself, +who had to stoop a long way down, to kiss her. But she was worth +the trouble. Six foot six, with the lumbago, might have done it. + +'Oh goodness, John!' said Mrs. P. 'What a state you are in with +the weather!' + +He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The thick mist hung +in clots upon his eyelashes like candied thaw; and between the fog +and fire together, there were rainbows in his very whiskers. + +'Why, you see, Dot,' John made answer, slowly, as he unrolled a +shawl from about his throat; and warmed his hands; 'it - it an't +exactly summer weather. So, no wonder.' + +'I wish you wouldn't call me Dot, John. I don't like it,' said +Mrs. Peerybingle: pouting in a way that clearly showed she DID +like it, very much. + +'Why what else are you?' returned John, looking down upon her with +a smile, and giving her waist as light a squeeze as his huge hand +and arm could give. 'A dot and' - here he glanced at the baby - 'a +dot and carry - I won't say it, for fear I should spoil it; but I +was very near a joke. I don't know as ever I was nearer.' + +He was often near to something or other very clever, by his own +account: this lumbering, slow, honest John; this John so heavy, +but so light of spirit; so rough upon the surface, but so gentle at +the core; so dull without, so quick within; so stolid, but so good! +Oh Mother Nature, give thy children the true poetry of heart that +hid itself in this poor Carrier's breast - he was but a Carrier by +the way - and we can bear to have them talking prose, and leading +lives of prose; and bear to bless thee for their company! + +It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure, and her baby in +her arms: a very doll of a baby: glancing with a coquettish +thoughtfulness at the fire, and inclining her delicate little head +just enough on one side to let it rest in an odd, half-natural, +half-affected, wholly nestling and agreeable manner, on the great +rugged figure of the Carrier. It was pleasant to see him, with his +tender awkwardness, endeavouring to adapt his rude support to her +slight need, and make his burly middle-age a leaning-staff not +inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was pleasant to observe +how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the background for the baby, took +special cognizance (though in her earliest teens) of this grouping; +and stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her head thrust +forward, taking it in as if it were air. Nor was it less agreeable +to observe how John the Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the +aforesaid baby, checked his hand when on the point of touching the +infant, as if he thought he might crack it; and bending down, +surveyed it from a safe distance, with a kind of puzzled pride, +such as an amiable mastiff might be supposed to show, if he found +himself, one day, the father of a young canary. + +'An't he beautiful, John? Don't he look precious in his sleep?' + +'Very precious,' said John. 'Very much so. He generally IS +asleep, an't he?' + +'Lor, John! Good gracious no!' + +'Oh,' said John, pondering. 'I thought his eyes was generally +shut. Halloa!' + +'Goodness, John, how you startle one!' + +'It an't right for him to turn 'em up in that way!' said the +astonished Carrier, 'is it? See how he's winking with both of 'em +at once! And look at his mouth! Why he's gasping like a gold and +silver fish!' + +'You don't deserve to be a father, you don't,' said Dot, with all +the dignity of an experienced matron. 'But how should you know +what little complaints children are troubled with, John! You +wouldn't so much as know their names, you stupid fellow.' And when +she had turned the baby over on her left arm, and had slapped its +back as a restorative, she pinched her husband's ear, laughing. + +'No,' said John, pulling off his outer coat. 'It's very true, Dot. +I don't know much about it. I only know that I've been fighting +pretty stiffly with the wind to-night. It's been blowing north- +east, straight into the cart, the whole way home.' + +'Poor old man, so it has!' cried Mrs. Peerybingle, instantly +becoming very active. 'Here! Take the precious darling, Tilly, +while I make myself of some use. Bless it, I could smother it with +kissing it, I could! Hie then, good dog! Hie, Boxer, boy! Only +let me make the tea first, John; and then I'll help you with the +parcels, like a busy bee. "How doth the little" - and all the rest +of it, you know, John. Did you ever learn "how doth the little," +when you went to school, John?' + +'Not to quite know it,' John returned. 'I was very near it once. +But I should only have spoilt it, I dare say.' + +'Ha ha,' laughed Dot. She had the blithest little laugh you ever +heard. 'What a dear old darling of a dunce you are, John, to be +sure!' + +Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see that the +boy with the lantern, which had been dancing to and fro before the +door and window, like a Will of the Wisp, took due care of the +horse; who was fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you +his measure, and so old that his birthday was lost in the mists of +antiquity. Boxer, feeling that his attentions were due to the +family in general, and must be impartially distributed, dashed in +and out with bewildering inconstancy; now, describing a circle of +short barks round the horse, where he was being rubbed down at the +stable-door; now feigning to make savage rushes at his mistress, +and facetiously bringing himself to sudden stops; now, eliciting a +shriek from Tilly Slowboy, in the low nursing-chair near the fire, +by the unexpected application of his moist nose to her countenance; +now, exhibiting an obtrusive interest in the baby; now, going round +and round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had established +himself for the night; now, getting up again, and taking that +nothing of a fag-end of a tail of his, out into the weather, as if +he had just remembered an appointment, and was off, at a round +trot, to keep it. + +'There! There's the teapot, ready on the hob!' said Dot; as +briskly busy as a child at play at keeping house. 'And there's the +old knuckle of ham; and there's the butter; and there's the crusty +loaf, and all! Here's the clothes-basket for the small parcels, +John, if you've got any there - where are you, John?' + +'Don't let the dear child fall under the grate, Tilly, whatever you +do!' + +It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her rejecting the +caution with some vivacity, that she had a rare and surprising +talent for getting this baby into difficulties and had several +times imperilled its short life, in a quiet way peculiarly her own. +She was of a spare and straight shape, this young lady, insomuch +that her garments appeared to be in constant danger of sliding off +those sharp pegs, her shoulders, on which they were loosely hung. +Her costume was remarkable for the partial development, on all +possible occasions, of some flannel vestment of a singular +structure; also for affording glimpses, in the region of the back, +of a corset, or pair of stays, in colour a dead-green. Being +always in a state of gaping admiration at everything, and absorbed, +besides, in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress's +perfections and the baby's, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of +judgment, may be said to have done equal honour to her head and to +her heart; and though these did less honour to the baby's head, +which they were the occasional means of bringing into contact with +deal doors, dressers, stair-rails, bed-posts, and other foreign +substances, still they were the honest results of Tilly Slowboy's +constant astonishment at finding herself so kindly treated, and +installed in such a comfortable home. For, the maternal and +paternal Slowboy were alike unknown to Fame, and Tilly had been +bred by public charity, a foundling; which word, though only +differing from fondling by one vowel's length, is very different in +meaning, and expresses quite another thing. + +To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with her husband, +tugging at the clothes-basket, and making the most strenuous +exertions to do nothing at all (for he carried it), would have +amused you almost as much as it amused him. It may have +entertained the Cricket too, for anything I know; but, certainly, +it now began to chirp again, vehemently. + +'Heyday!' said John, in his slow way. 'It's merrier than ever, to- +night, I think.' + +'And it's sure to bring us good fortune, John! It always has done +so. To have a Cricket on the Hearth, is the luckiest thing in all +the world!' + +John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the thought into +his head, that she was his Cricket in chief, and he quite agreed +with her. But, it was probably one of his narrow escapes, for he +said nothing. + +'The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, was on that +night when you brought me home - when you brought me to my new home +here; its little mistress. Nearly a year ago. You recollect, +John?' + +O yes. John remembered. I should think so! + +'Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so full of promise +and encouragement. It seemed to say, you would be kind and gentle +with me, and would not expect (I had a fear of that, John, then) to +find an old head on the shoulders of your foolish little wife.' + +John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and then the head, +as though he would have said No, no; he had had no such +expectation; he had been quite content to take them as they were. +And really he had reason. They were very comely. + +'It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say so; for you have +ever been, I am sure, the best, the most considerate, the most +affectionate of husbands to me. This has been a happy home, John; +and I love the Cricket for its sake!' + +'Why so do I then,' said the Carrier. 'So do I, Dot.' + +'I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the many +thoughts its harmless music has given me. Sometimes, in the +twilight, when I have felt a little solitary and down-hearted, John +- before baby was here to keep me company and make the house gay - +when I have thought how lonely you would be if I should die; how +lonely I should be if I could know that you had lost me, dear; its +Chirp, Chirp, Chirp upon the hearth, has seemed to tell me of +another little voice, so sweet, so very dear to me, before whose +coming sound my trouble vanished like a dream. And when I used to +fear - I did fear once, John, I was very young you know - that ours +might prove to be an ill-assorted marriage, I being such a child, +and you more like my guardian than my husband; and that you might +not, however hard you tried, be able to learn to love me, as you +hoped and prayed you might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp has cheered me +up again, and filled me with new trust and confidence. I was +thinking of these things to-night, dear, when I sat expecting you; +and I love the Cricket for their sake!' + +'And so do I,' repeated John. 'But, Dot? I hope and pray that I +might learn to love you? How you talk! I had learnt that, long +before I brought you here, to be the Cricket's little mistress, +Dot!' + +She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked up at him +with an agitated face, as if she would have told him something. +Next moment she was down upon her knees before the basket, speaking +in a sprightly voice, and busy with the parcels. + +'There are not many of them to-night, John, but I saw some goods +behind the cart, just now; and though they give more trouble, +perhaps, still they pay as well; so we have no reason to grumble, +have we? Besides, you have been delivering, I dare say, as you +came along?' + +'Oh yes,' John said. 'A good many.' + +'Why what's this round box? Heart alive, John, it's a wedding- +cake!' + +'Leave a woman alone to find out that,' said John, admiringly. +'Now a man would never have thought of it. Whereas, it's my belief +that if you was to pack a wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a +turn-up bedstead, or a pickled salmon keg, or any unlikely thing, a +woman would be sure to find it out directly. Yes; I called for it +at the pastry-cook's.' + +'And it weighs I don't know what - whole hundredweights!' cried +Dot, making a great demonstration of trying to lift it. + +'Whose is it, John? Where is it going?' + +'Read the writing on the other side,' said John. + +'Why, John! My Goodness, John!' + +'Ah! who'd have thought it!' John returned. + +'You never mean to say,' pursued Dot, sitting on the floor and +shaking her head at him, 'that it's Gruff and Tackleton the +toymaker!' + +John nodded. + +Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. Not in assent +- in dumb and pitying amazement; screwing up her lips the while +with all their little force (they were never made for screwing up; +I am clear of that), and looking the good Carrier through and +through, in her abstraction. Miss Slowboy, in the mean time, who +had a mechanical power of reproducing scraps of current +conversation for the delectation of the baby, with all the sense +struck out of them, and all the nouns changed into the plural +number, inquired aloud of that young creature, Was it Gruffs and +Tackletons the toymakers then, and Would it call at Pastry-cooks +for wedding-cakes, and Did its mothers know the boxes when its +fathers brought them homes; and so on. + +'And that is really to come about!' said Dot. 'Why, she and I were +girls at school together, John.' + +He might have been thinking of her, or nearly thinking of her, +perhaps, as she was in that same school time. He looked upon her +with a thoughtful pleasure, but he made no answer. + +'And he's as old! As unlike her! - Why, how many years older than +you, is Gruff and Tackleton, John?' + +'How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at one sitting, +than Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, I wonder!' replied +John, good-humouredly, as he drew a chair to the round table, and +began at the cold ham. 'As to eating, I eat but little; but that +little I enjoy, Dot.' + +Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of his innocent +delusions (for his appetite was always obstinate, and flatly +contradicted him), awoke no smile in the face of his little wife, +who stood among the parcels, pushing the cake-box slowly from her +with her foot, and never once looked, though her eyes were cast +down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally was so mindful of. +Absorbed in thought, she stood there, heedless alike of the tea and +John (although he called to her, and rapped the table with his +knife to startle her), until he rose and touched her on the arm; +when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to her place +behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence. But, not as she +had laughed before. The manner and the music were quite changed. + +The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not so +cheerful as it had been. Nothing like it. + +'So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?' she said, breaking +a long silence, which the honest Carrier had devoted to the +practical illustration of one part of his favourite sentiment - +certainly enjoying what he ate, if it couldn't be admitted that he +ate but little. 'So, these are all the parcels; are they, John?' + +'That's all,' said John. 'Why - no - I - ' laying down his knife +and fork, and taking a long breath. 'I declare - I've clean +forgotten the old gentleman!' + +'The old gentleman?' + +'In the cart,' said John. 'He was asleep, among the straw, the +last time I saw him. I've very nearly remembered him, twice, since +I came in; but he went out of my head again. Holloa! Yahip there! +Rouse up! That's my hearty!' + +John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had +hurried with the candle in his hand. + +Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference to The Old +Gentleman, and connecting in her mystified imagination certain +associations of a religious nature with the phrase, was so +disturbed, that hastily rising from the low chair by the fire to +seek protection near the skirts of her mistress, and coming into +contact as she crossed the doorway with an ancient Stranger, she +instinctively made a charge or butt at him with the only offensive +instrument within her reach. This instrument happening to be the +baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, which the sagacity of Boxer +rather tended to increase; for, that good dog, more thoughtful than +its master, had, it seemed, been watching the old gentleman in his +sleep, lest he should walk off with a few young poplar trees that +were tied up behind the cart; and he still attended on him very +closely, worrying his gaiters in fact, and making dead sets at the +buttons. + +'You're such an undeniable good sleeper, sir,' said John, when +tranquillity was restored; in the mean time the old gentleman had +stood, bareheaded and motionless, in the centre of the room; 'that +I have half a mind to ask you where the other six are - only that +would be a joke, and I know I should spoil it. Very near though,' +murmured the Carrier, with a chuckle; 'very near!' + +The Stranger, who had long white hair, good features, singularly +bold and well defined for an old man, and dark, bright, penetrating +eyes, looked round with a smile, and saluted the Carrier's wife by +gravely inclining his head. + +His garb was very quaint and odd - a long, long way behind the +time. Its hue was brown, all over. In his hand he held a great +brown club or walking-stick; and striking this upon the floor, it +fell asunder, and became a chair. On which he sat down, quite +composedly. + +'There!' said the Carrier, turning to his wife. 'That's the way I +found him, sitting by the roadside! Upright as a milestone. And +almost as deaf.' + +'Sitting in the open air, John!' + +'In the open air,' replied the Carrier, 'just at dusk. "Carriage +Paid," he said; and gave me eighteenpence. Then he got in. And +there he is.' + +'He's going, John, I think!' + +Not at all. He was only going to speak. + +'If you please, I was to be left till called for,' said the +Stranger, mildly. 'Don't mind me.' + +With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large +pockets, and a book from another, and leisurely began to read. +Making no more of Boxer than if he had been a house lamb! + +The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. The +Stranger raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the +former, said, + +'Your daughter, my good friend?' + +'Wife,' returned John. + +'Niece?' said the Stranger. + +'Wife,' roared John. + +'Indeed?' observed the Stranger. 'Surely? Very young!' + +He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. But, before he +could have read two lines, he again interrupted himself to say: + +'Baby, yours?' + +John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an answer in the +affirmative, delivered through a speaking trumpet. + +'Girl?' + +'Bo-o-oy!' roared John. + +'Also very young, eh?' + +Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. 'Two months and three da- +ays! Vaccinated just six weeks ago-o! Took very fine-ly! +Considered, by the doctor, a remarkably beautiful chi-ild! Equal +to the general run of children at five months o-old! Takes notice, +in a way quite wonderful! May seem impossible to you, but feels +his legs al-ready!' + +Here the breathless little mother, who had been shrieking these +short sentences into the old man's ear, until her pretty face was +crimsoned, held up the Baby before him as a stubborn and triumphant +fact; while Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious cry of 'Ketcher, +Ketcher' - which sounded like some unknown words, adapted to a +popular Sneeze - performed some cow-like gambols round that all +unconscious Innocent. + +'Hark! He's called for, sure enough,' said John. 'There's +somebody at the door. Open it, Tilly.' + +Before she could reach it, however, it was opened from without; +being a primitive sort of door, with a latch, that any one could +lift if he chose - and a good many people did choose, for all kinds +of neighbours liked to have a cheerful word or two with the +Carrier, though he was no great talker himself. Being opened, it +gave admission to a little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, +who seemed to have made himself a great-coat from the sack-cloth +covering of some old box; for, when he turned to shut the door, and +keep the weather out, he disclosed upon the back of that garment, +the inscription G & T in large black capitals. Also the word GLASS +in bold characters. + +'Good evening, John!' said the little man. 'Good evening, Mum. +Good evening, Tilly. Good evening, Unbeknown! How's Baby, Mum? +Boxer's pretty well I hope?' + +'All thriving, Caleb,' replied Dot. 'I am sure you need only look +at the dear child, for one, to know that.' + +'And I'm sure I need only look at you for another,' said Caleb. + +He didn't look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful eye +which seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time +and place, no matter what he said; a description which will equally +apply to his voice. + +'Or at John for another,' said Caleb. 'Or at Tilly, as far as that +goes. Or certainly at Boxer.' + +'Busy just now, Caleb?' asked the Carrier. + +'Why, pretty well, John,' he returned, with the distraught air of a +man who was casting about for the Philosopher's stone, at least. +'Pretty much so. There's rather a run on Noah's Arks at present. +I could have wished to improve upon the Family, but I don't see how +it's to be done at the price. It would be a satisfaction to one's +mind, to make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was +Wives. Flies an't on that scale neither, as compared with +elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got anything in the parcel +line for me, John?' + +The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken +off; and brought out, carefully preserved in moss and paper, a tiny +flower-pot. + +'There it is!' he said, adjusting it with great care. 'Not so much +as a leaf damaged. Full of buds!' + +Caleb's dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him. + +'Dear, Caleb,' said the Carrier. 'Very dear at this season.' + +'Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost,' +returned the little man. 'Anything else, John?' + +'A small box,' replied the Carrier. 'Here you are!' + +'"For Caleb Plummer,"' said the little man, spelling out the +direction. '"With Cash." With Cash, John? I don't think it's for +me.' + +'With Care,' returned the Carrier, looking over his shoulder. +'Where do you make out cash?' + +'Oh! To be sure!' said Caleb. 'It's all right. With care! Yes, +yes; that's mine. It might have been with cash, indeed, if my dear +Boy in the Golden South Americas had lived, John. You loved him +like a son; didn't you? You needn't say you did. I know, of +course. "Caleb Plummer. With care." Yes, yes, it's all right. +It's a box of dolls' eyes for my daughter's work. I wish it was +her own sight in a box, John.' + +'I wish it was, or could be!' cried the Carrier. + +'Thank'ee,' said the little man. 'You speak very hearty. To think +that she should never see the Dolls - and them a-staring at her, so +bold, all day long! That's where it cuts. What's the damage, +John?' + +'I'll damage you,' said John, 'if you inquire. Dot! Very near?' + +'Well! it's like you to say so,' observed the little man. 'It's +your kind way. Let me see. I think that's all.' + +'I think not,' said the Carrier. 'Try again.' + +'Something for our Governor, eh?' said Caleb, after pondering a +little while. 'To be sure. That's what I came for; but my head's +so running on them Arks and things! He hasn't been here, has he?' + +'Not he,' returned the Carrier. 'He's too busy, courting.' + +'He's coming round though,' said Caleb; 'for he told me to keep on +the near side of the road going home, and it was ten to one he'd +take me up. I had better go, by the bye. - You couldn't have the +goodness to let me pinch Boxer's tail, Mum, for half a moment, +could you?' + +'Why, Caleb! what a question!' + +'Oh never mind, Mum,' said the little man. 'He mightn't like it +perhaps. There's a small order just come in, for barking dogs; and +I should wish to go as close to Natur' as I could, for sixpence. +That's all. Never mind, Mum.' + +It happened opportunely, that Boxer, without receiving the proposed +stimulus, began to bark with great zeal. But, as this implied the +approach of some new visitor, Caleb, postponing his study from the +life to a more convenient season, shouldered the round box, and +took a hurried leave. He might have spared himself the trouble, +for he met the visitor upon the threshold. + +'Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a bit. I'll take you home. +John Peerybingle, my service to you. More of my service to your +pretty wife. Handsomer every day! Better too, if possible! And +younger,' mused the speaker, in a low voice; 'that's the Devil of +it!' + +'I should be astonished at your paying compliments, Mr. Tackleton,' +said Dot, not with the best grace in the world; 'but for your +condition.' + +'You know all about it then?' + +'I have got myself to believe it, somehow,' said Dot. + +'After a hard struggle, I suppose?' + +'Very.' + +Tackleton the Toy-merchant, pretty generally known as Gruff and +Tackleton - for that was the firm, though Gruff had been bought out +long ago; only leaving his name, and as some said his nature, +according to its Dictionary meaning, in the business - Tackleton +the Toy-merchant, was a man whose vocation had been quite +misunderstood by his Parents and Guardians. If they had made him a +Money Lender, or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff's Officer, or a +Broker, he might have sown his discontented oats in his youth, and, +after having had the full run of himself in ill-natured +transactions, might have turned out amiable, at last, for the sake +of a little freshness and novelty. But, cramped and chafing in the +peaceable pursuit of toy-making, he was a domestic Ogre, who had +been living on children all his life, and was their implacable +enemy. He despised all toys; wouldn't have bought one for the +world; delighted, in his malice, to insinuate grim expressions into +the faces of brown-paper farmers who drove pigs to market, bellmen +who advertised lost lawyers' consciences, movable old ladies who +darned stockings or carved pies; and other like samples of his +stock in trade. In appalling masks; hideous, hairy, red-eyed Jacks +in Boxes; Vampire Kites; demoniacal Tumblers who wouldn't lie down, +and were perpetually flying forward, to stare infants out of +countenance; his soul perfectly revelled. They were his only +relief, and safety-valve. He was great in such inventions. +Anything suggestive of a Pony-nightmare was delicious to him. He +had even lost money (and he took to that toy very kindly) by +getting up Goblin slides for magic-lanterns, whereon the Powers of +Darkness were depicted as a sort of supernatural shell-fish, with +human faces. In intensifying the portraiture of Giants, he had +sunk quite a little capital; and, though no painter himself, he +could indicate, for the instruction of his artists, with a piece of +chalk, a certain furtive leer for the countenances of those +monsters, which was safe to destroy the peace of mind of any young +gentleman between the ages of six and eleven, for the whole +Christmas or Midsummer Vacation. + +What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other things. You +may easily suppose, therefore, that within the great green cape, +which reached down to the calves of his legs, there was buttoned up +to the chin an uncommonly pleasant fellow; and that he was about as +choice a spirit, and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a +pair of bull-headed-looking boots with mahogany-coloured tops. + +Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be married. In +spite of all this, he was going to be married. And to a young wife +too, a beautiful young wife. + +He didn't look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in the Carrier's +kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a screw in his body, and +his hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands tucked +down into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic ill- +conditioned self peering out of one little corner of one little +eye, like the concentrated essence of any number of ravens. But, a +Bridegroom he designed to be. + +'In three days' time. Next Thursday. The last day of the first +month in the year. That's my wedding-day,' said Tackleton. + +Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one eye +nearly shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the +expressive eye? I don't think I did. + +'That's my wedding-day!' said Tackleton, rattling his money. + +'Why, it's our wedding-day too,' exclaimed the Carrier. + +'Ha ha!' laughed Tackleton. 'Odd! You're just such another +couple. Just!' + +The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion is not to be +described. What next? His imagination would compass the +possibility of just such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad. + +'I say! A word with you,' murmured Tackleton, nudging the Carrier +with his elbow, and taking him a little apart. 'You'll come to the +wedding? We're in the same boat, you know.' + +'How in the same boat?' inquired the Carrier. + +'A little disparity, you know,' said Tackleton, with another nudge. +'Come and spend an evening with us, beforehand.' + +'Why?' demanded John, astonished at this pressing hospitality. + +'Why?' returned the other. 'That's a new way of receiving an +invitation. Why, for pleasure - sociability, you know, and all +that!' + +'I thought you were never sociable,' said John, in his plain way. + +'Tchah! It's of no use to be anything but free with you, I see,' +said Tackleton. 'Why, then, the truth is you have a - what tea- +drinking people call a sort of a comfortable appearance together, +you and your wife. We know better, you know, but - ' + +'No, we don't know better,' interposed John. 'What are you talking +about?' + +'Well! We DON'T know better, then,' said Tackleton. 'We'll agree +that we don't. As you like; what does it matter? I was going to +say, as you have that sort of appearance, your company will produce +a favourable effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will be. And, though I +don't think your good lady's very friendly to me, in this matter, +still she can't help herself from falling into my views, for +there's a compactness and cosiness of appearance about her that +always tells, even in an indifferent case. You'll say you'll +come?' + +'We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as far as that goes) at +home,' said John. 'We have made the promise to ourselves these six +months. We think, you see, that home - ' + +'Bah! what's home?' cried Tackleton. 'Four walls and a ceiling! +(why don't you kill that Cricket? I would! I always do. I hate +their noise.) There are four walls and a ceiling at my house. +Come to me!' + +'You kill your Crickets, eh?' said John. + +'Scrunch 'em, sir,' returned the other, setting his heel heavily on +the floor. 'You'll say you'll come? it's as much your interest as +mine, you know, that the women should persuade each other that +they're quiet and contented, and couldn't be better off. I know +their way. Whatever one woman says, another woman is determined to +clinch, always. There's that spirit of emulation among 'em, sir, +that if your wife says to my wife, "I'm the happiest woman in the +world, and mine's the best husband in the world, and I dote on +him," my wife will say the same to yours, or more, and half believe +it.' + +'Do you mean to say she don't, then?' asked the Carrier. + +'Don't!' cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp laugh. 'Don't what?' + +The Carrier had some faint idea of adding, 'dote upon you.' But, +happening to meet the half-closed eye, as it twinkled upon him over +the turned-up collar of the cape, which was within an ace of poking +it out, he felt it such an unlikely part and parcel of anything to +be doted on, that he substituted, 'that she don't believe it?' + +'Ah you dog! You're joking,' said Tackleton. + +But the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of his +meaning, eyed him in such a serious manner, that he was obliged to +be a little more explanatory. + +'I have the humour,' said Tackleton: holding up the fingers of his +left hand, and tapping the forefinger, to imply 'there I am, +Tackleton to wit:' 'I have the humour, sir, to marry a young wife, +and a pretty wife:' here he rapped his little finger, to express +the Bride; not sparingly, but sharply; with a sense of power. 'I'm +able to gratify that humour and I do. It's my whim. But - now +look there!' + +He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, before the fire; +leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, and watching the bright +blaze. The Carrier looked at her, and then at him, and then at +her, and then at him again. + +'She honours and obeys, no doubt, you know,' said Tackleton; 'and +that, as I am not a man of sentiment, is quite enough for ME. But +do you think there's anything more in it?' + +'I think,' observed the Carrier, 'that I should chuck any man out +of window, who said there wasn't.' + +'Exactly so,' returned the other with an unusual alacrity of +assent. 'To be sure! Doubtless you would. Of course. I'm +certain of it. Good night. Pleasant dreams!' + +The Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable and uncertain, in +spite of himself. He couldn't help showing it, in his manner. + +'Good night, my dear friend!' said Tackleton, compassionately. +'I'm off. We're exactly alike, in reality, I see. You won't give +us to-morrow evening? Well! Next day you go out visiting, I know. +I'll meet you there, and bring my wife that is to be. It'll do her +good. You're agreeable? Thank'ee. What's that!' + +It was a loud cry from the Carrier's wife: a loud, sharp, sudden +cry, that made the room ring, like a glass vessel. She had risen +from her seat, and stood like one transfixed by terror and +surprise. The Stranger had advanced towards the fire to warm +himself, and stood within a short stride of her chair. But quite +still. + +'Dot!' cried the Carrier. 'Mary! Darling! What's the matter?' + +They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been dozing on +the cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his suspended +presence of mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head, but +immediately apologised. + +'Mary!' exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in his arms. 'Are +you ill! What is it? Tell me, dear!' + +She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling into a +wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp upon the +ground, she covered her face with her apron, and wept bitterly. +And then she laughed again, and then she cried again, and then she +said how cold it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire, +where she sat down as before. The old man standing, as before, +quite still. + +'I'm better, John,' she said. 'I'm quite well now - I -' + +'John!' But John was on the other side of her. Why turn her face +towards the strange old gentleman, as if addressing him! Was her +brain wandering? + +'Only a fancy, John dear - a kind of shock - a something coming +suddenly before my eyes - I don't know what it was. It's quite +gone, quite gone.' + +'I'm glad it's gone,' muttered Tackleton, turning the expressive +eye all round the room. 'I wonder where it's gone, and what it +was. Humph! Caleb, come here! Who's that with the grey hair?' + +'I don't know, sir,' returned Caleb in a whisper. 'Never see him +before, in all my life. A beautiful figure for a nut-cracker; +quite a new model. With a screw-jaw opening down into his +waistcoat, he'd be lovely.' + +'Not ugly enough,' said Tackleton. + +'Or for a firebox, either,' observed Caleb, in deep contemplation, +'what a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him +heels up'ards for the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman's +mantel-shelf, just as he stands!' + +'Not half ugly enough,' said Tackleton. 'Nothing in him at all! +Come! Bring that box! All right now, I hope?' + +'Quite gone!' said the little woman, waving him hurriedly away. +'Good night!' + +'Good night,' said Tackleton. 'Good night, John Peerybingle! Take +care how you carry that box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I'll murder +you! Dark as pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good night!' + +So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the +door; followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head. + +The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little wife, and so +busily engaged in soothing and tending her, that he had scarcely +been conscious of the Stranger's presence, until now, when he again +stood there, their only guest. + +'He don't belong to them, you see,' said John. 'I must give him a +hint to go.' + +'I beg your pardon, friend,' said the old gentleman, advancing to +him; 'the more so, as I fear your wife has not been well; but the +Attendant whom my infirmity,' he touched his ears and shook his +head, 'renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, I fear +there must be some mistake. The bad night which made the shelter +of your comfortable cart (may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, +is still as bad as ever. Would you, in your kindness, suffer me to +rent a bed here?' + +'Yes, yes,' cried Dot. 'Yes! Certainly!' + +'Oh!' said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this consent. + +'Well! I don't object; but, still I'm not quite sure that - ' + +'Hush!' she interrupted. 'Dear John!' + +'Why, he's stone deaf,' urged John. + +'I know he is, but - Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! certainly! I'll +make him up a bed, directly, John.' + +As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the +agitation of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier stood +looking after her, quite confounded. + +'Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!' cried Miss Slowboy to the +Baby; 'and did its hair grow brown and curly, when its caps was +lifted off, and frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the +fires!' + +With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, which is +often incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the Carrier as +he walked slowly to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even +these absurd words, many times. So many times that he got them by +heart, and was still conning them over and over, like a lesson, +when Tilly, after administering as much friction to the little bald +head with her hand as she thought wholesome (according to the +practice of nurses), had once more tied the Baby's cap on. + +'And frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires. What +frightened Dot, I wonder!' mused the Carrier, pacing to and fro. + +He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the Toy-merchant, +and yet they filled him with a vague, indefinite uneasiness. For, +Tackleton was quick and sly; and he had that painful sense, +himself, of being of slow perception, that a broken hint was always +worrying to him. He certainly had no intention in his mind of +linking anything that Tackleton had said, with the unusual conduct +of his wife, but the two subjects of reflection came into his mind +together, and he could not keep them asunder. + +The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, declining all +refreshment but a cup of tea, retired. Then, Dot - quite well +again, she said, quite well again - arranged the great chair in the +chimney-corner for her husband; filled his pipe and gave it him; +and took her usual little stool beside him on the hearth. + +She always WOULD sit on that little stool. I think she must have +had a kind of notion that it was a coaxing, wheedling little stool. + +She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I should say, +in the four quarters of the globe. To see her put that chubby +little finger in the bowl, and then blow down the pipe to clear the +tube, and, when she had done so, affect to think that there was +really something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, and hold it +to her eye like a telescope, with a most provoking twist in her +capital little face, as she looked down it, was quite a brilliant +thing. As to the tobacco, she was perfect mistress of the subject; +and her lighting of the pipe, with a wisp of paper, when the +Carrier had it in his mouth - going so very near his nose, and yet +not scorching it - was Art, high Art. + +And the Cricket and the kettle, turning up again, acknowledged it! +The bright fire, blazing up again, acknowledged it! The little +Mower on the clock, in his unheeded work, acknowledged it! The +Carrier, in his smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged +it, the readiest of all. + +And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed at his old pipe, and as +the Dutch clock ticked, and as the red fire gleamed, and as the +Cricket chirped; that Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such the +Cricket was) came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and summoned +many forms of Home about him. Dots of all ages, and all sizes, +filled the chamber. Dots who were merry children, running on +before him gathering flowers, in the fields; coy Dots, half +shrinking from, half yielding to, the pleading of his own rough +image; newly-married Dots, alighting at the door, and taking +wondering possession of the household keys; motherly little Dots, +attended by fictitious Slowboys, bearing babies to be christened; +matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching Dots of +daughters, as they danced at rustic balls; fat Dots, encircled and +beset by troops of rosy grandchildren; withered Dots, who leaned on +sticks, and tottered as they crept along. Old Carriers too, +appeared, with blind old Boxers lying at their feet; and newer +carts with younger drivers ('Peerybingle Brothers' on the tilt); +and sick old Carriers, tended by the gentlest hands; and graves of +dead and gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. And as the +Cricket showed him all these things - he saw them plainly, though +his eyes were fixed upon the fire - the Carrier's heart grew light +and happy, and he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, +and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than you do. + + +But, what was that young figure of a man, which the same Fairy +Cricket set so near Her stool, and which remained there, singly and +alone? Why did it linger still, so near her, with its arm upon the +chimney-piece, ever repeating 'Married! and not to me!' + +O Dot! O failing Dot! There is no place for it in all your +husband's visions; why has its shadow fallen on his hearth! + + + +CHAPTER II - Chirp The Second + + + +CALEB PLUMMER and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by themselves, +as the Story-books say - and my blessing, with yours to back it I +hope, on the Story-books, for saying anything in this workaday +world! - Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by +themselves, in a little cracked nutshell of a wooden house, which +was, in truth, no better than a pimple on the prominent red-brick +nose of Gruff and Tackleton. The premises of Gruff and Tackleton +were the great feature of the street; but you might have knocked +down Caleb Plummer's dwelling with a hammer or two, and carried off +the pieces in a cart. + +If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb Plummer the honour +to miss it after such an inroad, it would have been, no doubt, to +commend its demolition as a vast improvement. It stuck to the +premises of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship's keel, +or a snail to a door, or a little bunch of toadstools to the stem +of a tree. + +But, it was the germ from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff and +Tackleton had sprung; and, under its crazy roof, the Gruff before +last, had, in a small way, made toys for a generation of old boys +and girls, who had played with them, and found them out, and broken +them, and gone to sleep. + +I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter lived here. I +should have said that Caleb lived here, and his poor Blind Daughter +somewhere else - in an enchanted home of Caleb's furnishing, where +scarcity and shabbiness were not, and trouble never entered. Caleb +was no sorcerer, but in the only magic art that still remains to +us, the magic of devoted, deathless love, Nature had been the +mistress of his study; and from her teaching, all the wonder came. + +The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discoloured, walls +blotched and bare of plaster here and there, high crevices +unstopped and widening every day, beams mouldering and tending +downward. The Blind Girl never knew that iron was rusting, wood +rotting, paper peeling off; the size, and shape, and true +proportion of the dwelling, withering away. The Blind Girl never +knew that ugly shapes of delf and earthenware were on the board; +that sorrow and faintheartedness were in the house; that Caleb's +scanty hairs were turning greyer and more grey, before her +sightless face. The Blind Girl never knew they had a master, cold, +exacting, and uninterested - never knew that Tackleton was +Tackleton in short; but lived in the belief of an eccentric +humourist who loved to have his jest with them, and who, while he +was the Guardian Angel of their lives, disdained to hear one word +of thankfulness. + +And all was Caleb's doing; all the doing of her simple father! But +he too had a Cricket on his Hearth; and listening sadly to its +music when the motherless Blind Child was very young, that Spirit +had inspired him with the thought that even her great deprivation +might be almost changed into a blessing, and the girl made happy by +these little means. For all the Cricket tribe are potent Spirits, +even though the people who hold converse with them do not know it +(which is frequently the case); and there are not in the unseen +world, voices more gentle and more true, that may be so implicitly +relied on, or that are so certain to give none but tenderest +counsel, as the Voices in which the Spirits of the Fireside and the +Hearth address themselves to human kind. + +Caleb and his daughter were at work together in their usual +working-room, which served them for their ordinary living-room as +well; and a strange place it was. There were houses in it, +finished and unfinished, for Dolls of all stations in life. +Suburban tenements for Dolls of moderate means; kitchens and single +apartments for Dolls of the lower classes; capital town residences +for Dolls of high estate. Some of these establishments were +already furnished according to estimate, with a view to the +convenience of Dolls of limited income; others could be fitted on +the most expensive scale, at a moment's notice, from whole shelves +of chairs and tables, sofas, bedsteads, and upholstery. The +nobility and gentry, and public in general, for whose accommodation +these tenements were designed, lay, here and there, in baskets, +staring straight up at the ceiling; but, in denoting their degrees +in society, and confining them to their respective stations (which +experience shows to be lamentably difficult in real life), the +makers of these Dolls had far improved on Nature, who is often +froward and perverse; for, they, not resting on such arbitrary +marks as satin, cotton-print, and bits of rag, had superadded +striking personal differences which allowed of no mistake. Thus, +the Doll-lady of distinction had wax limbs of perfect symmetry; but +only she and her compeers. The next grade in the social scale +being made of leather, and the next of coarse linen stuff. As to +the common-people, they had just so many matches out of tinder- +boxes, for their arms and legs, and there they were - established +in their sphere at once, beyond the possibility of getting out of +it. + +There were various other samples of his handicraft, besides Dolls, +in Caleb Plummer's room. There were Noah's Arks, in which the +Birds and Beasts were an uncommonly tight fit, I assure you; though +they could be crammed in, anyhow, at the roof, and rattled and +shaken into the smallest compass. By a bold poetical licence, most +of these Noah's Arks had knockers on the doors; inconsistent +appendages, perhaps, as suggestive of morning callers and a +Postman, yet a pleasant finish to the outside of the building. +There were scores of melancholy little carts, which, when the +wheels went round, performed most doleful music. Many small +fiddles, drums, and other instruments of torture; no end of cannon, +shields, swords, spears, and guns. There were little tumblers in +red breeches, incessantly swarming up high obstacles of red-tape, +and coming down, head first, on the other side; and there were +innumerable old gentlemen of respectable, not to say venerable, +appearance, insanely flying over horizontal pegs, inserted, for the +purpose, in their own street doors. There were beasts of all +sorts; horses, in particular, of every breed, from the spotted +barrel on four pegs, with a small tippet for a mane, to the +thoroughbred rocker on his highest mettle. As it would have been +hard to count the dozens upon dozens of grotesque figures that were +ever ready to commit all sorts of absurdities on the turning of a +handle, so it would have been no easy task to mention any human +folly, vice, or weakness, that had not its type, immediate or +remote, in Caleb Plummer's room. And not in an exaggerated form, +for very little handles will move men and women to as strange +performances, as any Toy was ever made to undertake. + +In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his daughter sat at +work. The Blind Girl busy as a Doll's dressmaker; Caleb painting +and glazing the four-pair front of a desirable family mansion. + +The care imprinted in the lines of Caleb's face, and his absorbed +and dreamy manner, which would have sat well on some alchemist or +abstruse student, were at first sight an odd contrast to his +occupation, and the trivialities about him. But, trivial things, +invented and pursued for bread, become very serious matters of +fact; and, apart from this consideration, I am not at all prepared +to say, myself, that if Caleb had been a Lord Chamberlain, or a +Member of Parliament, or a lawyer, or even a great speculator, he +would have dealt in toys one whit less whimsical, while I have a +very great doubt whether they would have been as harmless. + +'So you were out in the rain last night, father, in your beautiful +new great-coat,' said Caleb's daughter. + +'In my beautiful new great-coat,' answered Caleb, glancing towards +a clothes-line in the room, on which the sack-cloth garment +previously described, was carefully hung up to dry. + +'How glad I am you bought it, father!' + +'And of such a tailor, too,' said Caleb. 'Quite a fashionable +tailor. It's too good for me.' + +The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed with delight. + +'Too good, father! What can be too good for you?' + +'I'm half-ashamed to wear it though,' said Caleb, watching the +effect of what he said, upon her brightening face; 'upon my word! +When I hear the boys and people say behind me, "Hal-loa! Here's a +swell!" I don't know which way to look. And when the beggar +wouldn't go away last night; and when I said I was a very common +man, said "No, your Honour! Bless your Honour, don't say that!" I +was quite ashamed. I really felt as if I hadn't a right to wear +it.' + +Happy Blind Girl! How merry she was, in her exultation! + +'I see you, father,' she said, clasping her hands, 'as plainly, as +if I had the eyes I never want when you are with me. A blue coat - +' + +'Bright blue,' said Caleb. + +'Yes, yes! Bright blue!' exclaimed the girl, turning up her +radiant face; 'the colour I can just remember in the blessed sky! +You told me it was blue before! A bright blue coat - ' + +'Made loose to the figure,' suggested Caleb. + +'Made loose to the figure!' cried the Blind Girl, laughing +heartily; 'and in it, you, dear father, with your merry eye, your +smiling face, your free step, and your dark hair - looking so young +and handsome!' + +'Halloa! Halloa!' said Caleb. 'I shall be vain, presently!' + +'I think you are, already,' cried the Blind Girl, pointing at him, +in her glee. 'I know you, father! Ha, ha, ha! I've found you +out, you see!' + +How different the picture in her mind, from Caleb, as he sat +observing her! She had spoken of his free step. She was right in +that. For years and years, he had never once crossed that +threshold at his own slow pace, but with a footfall counterfeited +for her ear; and never had he, when his heart was heaviest, +forgotten the light tread that was to render hers so cheerful and +courageous! + +Heaven knows! But I think Caleb's vague bewilderment of manner may +have half originated in his having confused himself about himself +and everything around him, for the love of his Blind Daughter. How +could the little man be otherwise than bewildered, after labouring +for so many years to destroy his own identity, and that of all the +objects that had any bearing on it! + +'There we are,' said Caleb, falling back a pace or two to form the +better judgment of his work; 'as near the real thing as +sixpenn'orth of halfpence is to sixpence. What a pity that the +whole front of the house opens at once! If there was only a +staircase in it, now, and regular doors to the rooms to go in at! +But that's the worst of my calling, I'm always deluding myself, and +swindling myself.' + +'You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired, father?' + +'Tired!' echoed Caleb, with a great burst of animation, 'what +should tire me, Bertha? I was never tired. What does it mean?' + +To give the greater force to his words, he checked himself in an +involuntary imitation of two half-length stretching and yawning +figures on the mantel-shelf, who were represented as in one eternal +state of weariness from the waist upwards; and hummed a fragment of +a song. It was a Bacchanalian song, something about a Sparkling +Bowl. He sang it with an assumption of a Devil-may-care voice, +that made his face a thousand times more meagre and more thoughtful +than ever. + +'What! You're singing, are you?' said Tackleton, putting his head +in at the door. 'Go it! I can't sing.' + +Nobody would have suspected him of it. He hadn't what is generally +termed a singing face, by any means. + +'I can't afford to sing,' said Tackleton. 'I'm glad YOU CAN. I +hope you can afford to work too. Hardly time for both, I should +think?' + +'If you could only see him, Bertha, how he's winking at me!' +whispered Caleb. 'Such a man to joke! you'd think, if you didn't +know him, he was in earnest - wouldn't you now?' + +The Blind Girl smiled and nodded. + +'The bird that can sing and won't sing, must be made to sing, they +say,' grumbled Tackleton. 'What about the owl that can't sing, and +oughtn't to sing, and will sing; is there anything that HE should +be made to do?' + +'The extent to which he's winking at this moment!' whispered Caleb +to his daughter. 'O, my gracious!' + +'Always merry and light-hearted with us!' cried the smiling Bertha. + +'O, you're there, are you?' answered Tackleton. 'Poor Idiot!' + +He really did believe she was an Idiot; and he founded the belief, +I can't say whether consciously or not, upon her being fond of him. + +'Well! and being there, - how are you?' said Tackleton, in his +grudging way. + +'Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even you can wish me to be. +As happy as you would make the whole world, if you could!' + +'Poor Idiot!' muttered Tackleton. 'No gleam of reason. Not a +gleam!' + +The Blind Girl took his hand and kissed it; held it for a moment in +her own two hands; and laid her cheek against it tenderly, before +releasing it. There was such unspeakable affection and such +fervent gratitude in the act, that Tackleton himself was moved to +say, in a milder growl than usual: + +'What's the matter now?' + +'I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to sleep last night, +and remembered it in my dreams. And when the day broke, and the +glorious red sun - the RED sun, father?' + +'Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha,' said poor Caleb, +with a woeful glance at his employer. + +'When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear to strike myself +against in walking, came into the room, I turned the little tree +towards it, and blessed Heaven for making things so precious, and +blessed you for sending them to cheer me!' + +'Bedlam broke loose!' said Tackleton under his breath. 'We shall +arrive at the strait-waistcoat and mufflers soon. We're getting +on!' + +Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, stared vacantly +before him while his daughter spoke, as if he really were uncertain +(I believe he was) whether Tackleton had done anything to deserve +her thanks, or not. If he could have been a perfectly free agent, +at that moment, required, on pain of death, to kick the Toy- +merchant, or fall at his feet, according to his merits, I believe +it would have been an even chance which course he would have taken. +Yet, Caleb knew that with his own hands he had brought the little +rose-tree home for her, so carefully, and that with his own lips he +had forged the innocent deception which should help to keep her +from suspecting how much, how very much, he every day, denied +himself, that she might be the happier. + +'Bertha!' said Tackleton, assuming, for the nonce, a little +cordiality. 'Come here.' + +'Oh! I can come straight to you! You needn't guide me!' she +rejoined. + +'Shall I tell you a secret, Bertha?' + +'If you will!' she answered, eagerly. + +How bright the darkened face! How adorned with light, the +listening head! + +'This is the day on which little what's-her-name, the spoilt child, +Peerybingle's wife, pays her regular visit to you - makes her +fantastic Pic-Nic here; an't it?' said Tackleton, with a strong +expression of distaste for the whole concern. + +'Yes,' replied Bertha. 'This is the day.' + +'I thought so,' said Tackleton. 'I should like to join the party.' + +'Do you hear that, father!' cried the Blind Girl in an ecstasy. + +'Yes, yes, I hear it,' murmured Caleb, with the fixed look of a +sleep-walker; 'but I don't believe it. It's one of my lies, I've +no doubt.' + +'You see I - I want to bring the Peerybingles a little more into +company with May Fielding,' said Tackleton. 'I am going to be +married to May.' + +'Married!' cried the Blind Girl, starting from him. + +'She's such a con-founded Idiot,' muttered Tackleton, 'that I was +afraid she'd never comprehend me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, +parson, clerk, beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, +favours, marrow-bones, cleavers, and all the rest of the +tomfoolery. A wedding, you know; a wedding. Don't you know what a +wedding is?' + +'I know,' replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle tone. 'I +understand!' + +'Do you?' muttered Tackleton. 'It's more than I expected. Well! +On that account I want to join the party, and to bring May and her +mother. I'll send in a little something or other, before the +afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, or some comfortable trifle of +that sort. You'll expect me?' + +'Yes,' she answered. + +She had drooped her head, and turned away; and so stood, with her +hands crossed, musing. + +'I don't think you will,' muttered Tackleton, looking at her; 'for +you seem to have forgotten all about it, already. Caleb!' + +'I may venture to say I'm here, I suppose,' thought Caleb. 'Sir!' + +'Take care she don't forget what I've been saying to her.' + +'SHE never forgets,' returned Caleb. 'It's one of the few things +she an't clever in.' + +'Every man thinks his own geese swans,' observed the Toy-merchant, +with a shrug. 'Poor devil!' + +Having delivered himself of which remark, with infinite contempt, +old Gruff and Tackleton withdrew. + +Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in meditation. The +gaiety had vanished from her downcast face, and it was very sad. +Three or four times she shook her head, as if bewailing some +remembrance or some loss; but her sorrowful reflections found no +vent in words. + +It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some time, in yoking a +team of horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing the +harness to the vital parts of their bodies, that she drew near to +his working-stool, and sitting down beside him, said: + +'Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes, my patient, +willing eyes.' + +'Here they are,' said Caleb. 'Always ready. They are more yours +than mine, Bertha, any hour in the four-and-twenty. What shall +your eyes do for you, dear?' + +'Look round the room, father.' + +'All right,' said Caleb. 'No sooner said than done, Bertha.' + +'Tell me about it.' + +'It's much the same as usual,' said Caleb. 'Homely, but very snug. +The gay colours on the walls; the bright flowers on the plates and +dishes; the shining wood, where there are beams or panels; the +general cheerfulness and neatness of the building; make it very +pretty.' + +Cheerful and neat it was wherever Bertha's hands could busy +themselves. But nowhere else, were cheerfulness and neatness +possible, in the old crazy shed which Caleb's fancy so transformed. + +'You have your working dress on, and are not so gallant as when you +wear the handsome coat?' said Bertha, touching him. + +'Not quite so gallant,' answered Caleb. 'Pretty brisk though.' + +'Father,' said the Blind Girl, drawing close to his side, and +stealing one arm round his neck, 'tell me something about May. She +is very fair?' + +'She is indeed,' said Caleb. And she was indeed. It was quite a +rare thing to Caleb, not to have to draw on his invention. + +'Her hair is dark,' said Bertha, pensively, 'darker than mine. Her +voice is sweet and musical, I know. I have often loved to hear it. +Her shape - ' + +'There's not a Doll's in all the room to equal it,' said Caleb. +'And her eyes! - ' + +He stopped; for Bertha had drawn closer round his neck, and from +the arm that clung about him, came a warning pressure which he +understood too well. + +He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, and then fell back upon +the song about the sparkling bowl; his infallible resource in all +such difficulties. + +'Our friend, father, our benefactor. I am never tired, you know, +of hearing about him. - Now, was I ever?' she said, hastily. + +'Of course not,' answered Caleb, 'and with reason.' + +'Ah! With how much reason!' cried the Blind Girl. With such +fervency, that Caleb, though his motives were so pure, could not +endure to meet her face; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have +read in them his innocent deceit. + +'Then, tell me again about him, dear father,' said Bertha. 'Many +times again! His face is benevolent, kind, and tender. Honest and +true, I am sure it is. The manly heart that tries to cloak all +favours with a show of roughness and unwillingness, beats in its +every look and glance.' + +'And makes it noble!' added Caleb, in his quiet desperation. + +'And makes it noble!' cried the Blind Girl. 'He is older than May, +father.' + +'Ye-es,' said Caleb, reluctantly. 'He's a little older than May. +But that don't signify.' + +'Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in infirmity and age; +to be his gentle nurse in sickness, and his constant friend in +suffering and sorrow; to know no weariness in working for his sake; +to watch him, tend him, sit beside his bed and talk to him awake, +and pray for him asleep; what privileges these would be! What +opportunities for proving all her truth and devotion to him! Would +she do all this, dear father? + +'No doubt of it,' said Caleb. + +'I love her, father; I can love her from my soul!' exclaimed the +Blind Girl. And saying so, she laid her poor blind face on Caleb's +shoulder, and so wept and wept, that he was almost sorry to have +brought that tearful happiness upon her. + +In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp commotion at John +Peerybingle's, for little Mrs. Peerybingle naturally couldn't think +of going anywhere without the Baby; and to get the Baby under weigh +took time. Not that there was much of the Baby, speaking of it as +a thing of weight and measure, but there was a vast deal to do +about and about it, and it all had to be done by easy stages. For +instance, when the Baby was got, by hook and by crook, to a certain +point of dressing, and you might have rationally supposed that +another touch or two would finish him off, and turn him out a tip- +top Baby challenging the world, he was unexpectedly extinguished in +a flannel cap, and hustled off to bed; where he simmered (so to +speak) between two blankets for the best part of an hour. From +this state of inaction he was then recalled, shining very much and +roaring violently, to partake of - well? I would rather say, if +you'll permit me to speak generally - of a slight repast. After +which, he went to sleep again. Mrs. Peerybingle took advantage of +this interval, to make herself as smart in a small way as ever you +saw anybody in all your life; and, during the same short truce, +Miss Slowboy insinuated herself into a spencer of a fashion so +surprising and ingenious, that it had no connection with herself, +or anything else in the universe, but was a shrunken, dog's-eared, +independent fact, pursuing its lonely course without the least +regard to anybody. By this time, the Baby, being all alive again, +was invested, by the united efforts of Mrs. Peerybingle and Miss +Slowboy, with a cream-coloured mantle for its body, and a sort of +nankeen raised-pie for its head; and so in course of time they all +three got down to the door, where the old horse had already taken +more than the full value of his day's toll out of the Turnpike +Trust, by tearing up the road with his impatient autographs; and +whence Boxer might be dimly seen in the remote perspective, +standing looking back, and tempting him to come on without orders. + +As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping Mrs. +Peerybingle into the cart, you know very little of John, if you +think THAT was necessary. Before you could have seen him lift her +from the ground, there she was in her place, fresh and rosy, +saying, 'John! How CAN you! Think of Tilly!' + +If I might be allowed to mention a young lady's legs, on any terms, +I would observe of Miss Slowboy's that there was a fatality about +them which rendered them singularly liable to be grazed; and that +she never effected the smallest ascent or descent, without +recording the circumstance upon them with a notch, as Robinson +Crusoe marked the days upon his wooden calendar. But as this might +be considered ungenteel, I'll think of it. + +'John? You've got the Basket with the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, +and the bottles of Beer?' said Dot. 'If you haven't, you must turn +round again, this very minute.' + +'You're a nice little article,' returned the Carrier, 'to be +talking about turning round, after keeping me a full quarter of an +hour behind my time.' + +'I am sorry for it, John,' said Dot in a great bustle, 'but I +really could not think of going to Bertha's - I would not do it, +John, on any account - without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and +the bottles of Beer. Way!' + +This monosyllable was addressed to the horse, who didn't mind it at +all. + +'Oh DO way, John!' said Mrs. Peerybingle. 'Please!' + +'It'll be time enough to do that,' returned John, 'when I begin to +leave things behind me. The basket's here, safe enough.' + +'What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, not to have said +so, at once, and save me such a turn! I declared I wouldn't go to +Bertha's without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles +of Beer, for any money. Regularly once a fortnight ever since we +have been married, John, have we made our little Pic-Nic there. If +anything was to go wrong with it, I should almost think we were +never to be lucky again.' + +'It was a kind thought in the first instance,' said the Carrier: +'and I honour you for it, little woman.' + +'My dear John,' replied Dot, turning very red, 'don't talk about +honouring ME. Good Gracious!' + +'By the bye - ' observed the Carrier. 'That old gentleman - ' + +Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed! + +'He's an odd fish,' said the Carrier, looking straight along the +road before them. 'I can't make him out. I don't believe there's +any harm in him.' + +'None at all. I'm - I'm sure there's none at all.' + +'Yes,' said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted to her face by the +great earnestness of her manner. 'I am glad you feel so certain of +it, because it's a confirmation to me. It's curious that he should +have taken it into his head to ask leave to go on lodging with us; +an't it? Things come about so strangely.' + +'So very strangely,' she rejoined in a low voice, scarcely audible. + +'However, he's a good-natured old gentleman,' said John, 'and pays +as a gentleman, and I think his word is to be relied upon, like a +gentleman's. I had quite a long talk with him this morning: he +can hear me better already, he says, as he gets more used to my +voice. He told me a great deal about himself, and I told him a +great deal about myself, and a rare lot of questions he asked me. +I gave him information about my having two beats, you know, in my +business; one day to the right from our house and back again; +another day to the left from our house and back again (for he's a +stranger and don't know the names of places about here); and he +seemed quite pleased. "Why, then I shall be returning home to- +night your way," he says, "when I thought you'd be coming in an +exactly opposite direction. That's capital! I may trouble you for +another lift perhaps, but I'll engage not to fall so sound asleep +again." He WAS sound asleep, sure-ly! - Dot! what are you thinking +of?' + +'Thinking of, John? I - I was listening to you.' + +'O! That's all right!' said the honest Carrier. 'I was afraid, +from the look of your face, that I had gone rambling on so long, as +to set you thinking about something else. I was very near it, I'll +be bound.' + +Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little time, in +silence. But, it was not easy to remain silent very long in John +Peerybingle's cart, for everybody on the road had something to say. +Though it might only be 'How are you!' and indeed it was very often +nothing else, still, to give that back again in the right spirit of +cordiality, required, not merely a nod and a smile, but as +wholesome an action of the lungs withal, as a long-winded +Parliamentary speech. Sometimes, passengers on foot, or horseback, +plodded on a little way beside the cart, for the express purpose of +having a chat; and then there was a great deal to be said, on both +sides. + +Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured recognitions of, and +by, the Carrier, than half-a-dozen Christians could have done! +Everybody knew him, all along the road - especially the fowls and +pigs, who when they saw him approaching, with his body all on one +side, and his ears pricked up inquisitively, and that knob of a +tail making the most of itself in the air, immediately withdrew +into remote back settlements, without waiting for the honour of a +nearer acquaintance. He had business everywhere; going down all +the turnings, looking into all the wells, bolting in and out of all +the cottages, dashing into the midst of all the Dame-Schools, +fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying the tails of all the cats, +and trotting into the public-houses like a regular customer. +Wherever he went, somebody or other might have been heard to cry, +'Halloa! Here's Boxer!' and out came that somebody forthwith, +accompanied by at least two or three other somebodies, to give John +Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day. + +The packages and parcels for the errand cart, were numerous; and +there were many stoppages to take them in and give them out, which +were not by any means the worst parts of the journey. Some people +were so full of expectation about their parcels, and other people +were so full of wonder about their parcels, and other people were +so full of inexhaustible directions about their parcels, and John +had such a lively interest in all the parcels, that it was as good +as a play. Likewise, there were articles to carry, which required +to be considered and discussed, and in reference to the adjustment +and disposition of which, councils had to be holden by the Carrier +and the senders: at which Boxer usually assisted, in short fits of +the closest attention, and long fits of tearing round and round the +assembled sages and barking himself hoarse. Of all these little +incidents, Dot was the amused and open-eyed spectatress from her +chair in the cart; and as she sat there, looking on - a charming +little portrait framed to admiration by the tilt - there was no +lack of nudgings and glancings and whisperings and envyings among +the younger men. And this delighted John the Carrier, beyond +measure; for he was proud to have his little wife admired, knowing +that she didn't mind it - that, if anything, she rather liked it +perhaps. + +The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the January weather; +and was raw and cold. But who cared for such trifles? Not Dot, +decidedly. Not Tilly Slowboy, for she deemed sitting in a cart, on +any terms, to be the highest point of human joys; the crowning +circumstance of earthly hopes. Not the Baby, I'll be sworn; for +it's not in Baby nature to be warmer or more sound asleep, though +its capacity is great in both respects, than that blessed young +Peerybingle was, all the way. + +You couldn't see very far in the fog, of course; but you could see +a great deal! It's astonishing how much you may see, in a thicker +fog than that, if you will only take the trouble to look for it. +Why, even to sit watching for the Fairy-rings in the fields, and +for the patches of hoar-frost still lingering in the shade, near +hedges and by trees, was a pleasant occupation: to make no mention +of the unexpected shapes in which the trees themselves came +starting out of the mist, and glided into it again. The hedges +were tangled and bare, and waved a multitude of blighted garlands +in the wind; but there was no discouragement in this. It was +agreeable to contemplate; for it made the fireside warmer in +possession, and the summer greener in expectancy. The river looked +chilly; but it was in motion, and moving at a good pace - which was +a great point. The canal was rather slow and torpid; that must be +admitted. Never mind. It would freeze the sooner when the frost +set fairly in, and then there would be skating, and sliding; and +the heavy old barges, frozen up somewhere near a wharf, would smoke +their rusty iron chimney pipes all day, and have a lazy time of it. + +In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or stubble burning; +and they watched the fire, so white in the daytime, flaring through +the fog, with only here and there a dash of red in it, until, in +consequence, as she observed, of the smoke 'getting up her nose,' +Miss Slowboy choked - she could do anything of that sort, on the +smallest provocation - and woke the Baby, who wouldn't go to sleep +again. But, Boxer, who was in advance some quarter of a mile or +so, had already passed the outposts of the town, and gained the +corner of the street where Caleb and his daughter lived; and long +before they had reached the door, he and the Blind Girl were on the +pavement waiting to receive them. + +Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions of his own, +in his communication with Bertha, which persuade me fully that he +knew her to be blind. He never sought to attract her attention by +looking at her, as he often did with other people, but touched her +invariably. What experience he could ever have had of blind people +or blind dogs, I don't know. He had never lived with a blind +master; nor had Mr. Boxer the elder, nor Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his +respectable family on either side, ever been visited with +blindness, that I am aware of. He may have found it out for +himself, perhaps, but he had got hold of it somehow; and therefore +he had hold of Bertha too, by the skirt, and kept bold, until Mrs. +Peerybingle and the Baby, and Miss Slowboy, and the basket, were +all got safely within doors. + +May Fielding was already come; and so was her mother - a little +querulous chip of an old lady with a peevish face, who, in right of +having preserved a waist like a bedpost, was supposed to be a most +transcendent figure; and who, in consequence of having once been +better off, or of labouring under an impression that she might have +been, if something had happened which never did happen, and seemed +to have never been particularly likely to come to pass - but it's +all the same - was very genteel and patronising indeed. Gruff and +Tackleton was also there, doing the agreeable, with the evident +sensation of being as perfectly at home, and as unquestionably in +his own element, as a fresh young salmon on the top of the Great +Pyramid. + +'May! My dear old friend!' cried Dot, running up to meet her. +'What a happiness to see you.' + +Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad as she; and +it really was, if you'll believe me, quite a pleasant sight to see +them embrace. Tackleton was a man of taste beyond all question. +May was very pretty. + +You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty face, how, when +it comes into contact and comparison with another pretty face, it +seems for the moment to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve +the high opinion you have had of it. Now, this was not at all the +case, either with Dot or May; for May's face set off Dot's, and +Dot's face set off May's, so naturally and agreeably, that, as John +Peerybingle was very near saying when he came into the room, they +ought to have been born sisters - which was the only improvement +you could have suggested. + +Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, wonderful to relate, +a tart besides - but we don't mind a little dissipation when our +brides are in the case. we don't get married every day - and in +addition to these dainties, there were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and +'things,' as Mrs. Peerybingle called them; which were chiefly nuts +and oranges, and cakes, and such small deer. When the repast was +set forth on the board, flanked by Caleb's contribution, which was +a great wooden bowl of smoking potatoes (he was prohibited, by +solemn compact, from producing any other viands), Tackleton led his +intended mother-in-law to the post of honour. For the better +gracing of this place at the high festival, the majestic old soul +had adorned herself with a cap, calculated to inspire the +thoughtless with sentiments of awe. She also wore her gloves. But +let us be genteel, or die! + +Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old schoolfellow were side +by side; the good Carrier took care of the bottom of the table. +Miss Slowboy was isolated, for the time being, from every article +of furniture but the chair she sat on, that she might have nothing +else to knock the Baby's head against. + +As Tilly stared about her at the dolls and toys, they stared at her +and at the company. The venerable old gentlemen at the street +doors (who were all in full action) showed especial interest in the +party, pausing occasionally before leaping, as if they were +listening to the conversation, and then plunging wildly over and +over, a great many times, without halting for breath - as in a +frantic state of delight with the whole proceedings. + +Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to have a fiendish +joy in the contemplation of Tackleton's discomfiture, they had good +reason to be satisfied. Tackleton couldn't get on at all; and the +more cheerful his intended bride became in Dot's society, the less +he liked it, though he had brought them together for that purpose. +For he was a regular dog in the manger, was Tackleton; and when +they laughed and he couldn't, he took it into his head, +immediately, that they must be laughing at him. + +'Ah, May!' said Dot. 'Dear dear, what changes! To talk of those +merry school-days makes one young again.' + +'Why, you an't particularly old, at any time; are you?' said +Tackleton. + +'Look at my sober plodding husband there,' returned Dot. 'He adds +twenty years to my age at least. Don't you, John?' + +'Forty,' John replied. + +'How many YOU'll add to May's, I am sure I don't know,' said Dot, +laughing. 'But she can't be much less than a hundred years of age +on her next birthday.' + +'Ha ha!' laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a drum, that laugh though. +And he looked as if he could have twisted Dot's neck, comfortably. + +'Dear dear!' said Dot. 'Only to remember how we used to talk, at +school, about the husbands we would choose. I don't know how +young, and how handsome, and how gay, and how lively, mine was not +to be! And as to May's! - Ah dear! I don't know whether to laugh +or cry, when I think what silly girls we were.' + +May seemed to know which to do; for the colour flushed into her +face, and tears stood in her eyes. + +'Even the very persons themselves - real live young men - were +fixed on sometimes,' said Dot. 'We little thought how things would +come about. I never fixed on John I'm sure; I never so much as +thought of him. And if I had told you, you were ever to be married +to Mr. Tackleton, why you'd have slapped me. Wouldn't you, May?' + +Though May didn't say yes, she certainly didn't say no, or express +no, by any means. + +Tackleton laughed - quite shouted, he laughed so loud. John +Peerybingle laughed too, in his ordinary good-natured and contented +manner; but his was a mere whisper of a laugh, to Tackleton's. + +'You couldn't help yourselves, for all that. You couldn't resist +us, you see,' said Tackleton. 'Here we are! Here we are!' + +'Where are your gay young bridegrooms now!' + +'Some of them are dead,' said Dot; 'and some of them forgotten. +Some of them, if they could stand among us at this moment, would +not believe we were the same creatures; would not believe that what +they saw and heard was real, and we COULD forget them so. No! they +would not believe one word of it!' + +'Why, Dot!' exclaimed the Carrier. 'Little woman!' + +She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, that she stood in +need of some recalling to herself, without doubt. Her husband's +cheek was very gentle, for he merely interfered, as he supposed, to +shield old Tackleton; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, and +said no more. There was an uncommon agitation, even in her +silence, which the wary Tackleton, who had brought his half-shut +eye to bear upon her, noted closely, and remembered to some purpose +too. + +May uttered no word, good or bad, but sat quite still, with her +eyes cast down, and made no sign of interest in what had passed. +The good lady her mother now interposed, observing, in the first +instance, that girls were girls, and byegones byegones, and that so +long as young people were young and thoughtless, they would +probably conduct themselves like young and thoughtless persons: +with two or three other positions of a no less sound and +incontrovertible character. She then remarked, in a devout spirit, +that she thanked Heaven she had always found in her daughter May, a +dutiful and obedient child; for which she took no credit to +herself, though she had every reason to believe it was entirely +owing to herself. With regard to Mr. Tackleton she said, That he +was in a moral point of view an undeniable individual, and That he +was in an eligible point of view a son-in-law to be desired, no one +in their senses could doubt. (She was very emphatic here.) With +regard to the family into which he was so soon about, after some +solicitation, to be admitted, she believed Mr. Tackleton knew that, +although reduced in purse, it had some pretensions to gentility; +and if certain circumstances, not wholly unconnected, she would go +so far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to which she would not +more particularly refer, had happened differently, it might perhaps +have been in possession of wealth. She then remarked that she +would not allude to the past, and would not mention that her +daughter had for some time rejected the suit of Mr. Tackleton; and +that she would not say a great many other things which she did say, +at great length. Finally, she delivered it as the general result +of her observation and experience, that those marriages in which +there was least of what was romantically and sillily called love, +were always the happiest; and that she anticipated the greatest +possible amount of bliss - not rapturous bliss; but the solid, +steady-going article - from the approaching nuptials. She +concluded by informing the company that to-morrow was the day she +had lived for, expressly; and that when it was over, she would +desire nothing better than to be packed up and disposed of, in any +genteel place of burial. + +As these remarks were quite unanswerable - which is the happy +property of all remarks that are sufficiently wide of the purpose - +they changed the current of the conversation, and diverted the +general attention to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold mutton, the +potatoes, and the tart. In order that the bottled beer might not +be slighted, John Peerybingle proposed To-morrow: the Wedding-Day; +and called upon them to drink a bumper to it, before he proceeded +on his journey. + +For you ought to know that he only rested there, and gave the old +horse a bait. He had to go some four of five miles farther on; and +when he returned in the evening, he called for Dot, and took +another rest on his way home. This was the order of the day on all +the Pic-Nic occasions, had been, ever since their institution. + +There were two persons present, besides the bride and bridegroom +elect, who did but indifferent honour to the toast. One of these +was Dot, too flushed and discomposed to adapt herself to any small +occurrence of the moment; the other, Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, +before the rest, and left the table. + +'Good bye!' said stout John Peerybingle, pulling on his dreadnought +coat. 'I shall be back at the old time. Good bye all!' + +'Good bye, John,' returned Caleb. + +He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand in the same +unconscious manner; for he stood observing Bertha with an anxious +wondering face, that never altered its expression. + +'Good bye, young shaver!' said the jolly Carrier, bending down to +kiss the child; which Tilly Slowboy, now intent upon her knife and +fork, had deposited asleep (and strange to say, without damage) in +a little cot of Bertha's furnishing; 'good bye! Time will come, I +suppose, when YOU'LL turn out into the cold, my little friend, and +leave your old father to enjoy his pipe and his rheumatics in the +chimney-corner; eh? Where's Dot?' + +'I'm here, John!' she said, starting. + +'Come, come!' returned the Carrier, clapping his sounding hands. +'Where's the pipe?' + +'I quite forgot the pipe, John.' + +Forgot the pipe! Was such a wonder ever heard of! She! Forgot +the pipe! + +'I'll - I'll fill it directly. It's soon done.' + +But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the usual place - +the Carrier's dreadnought pocket - with the little pouch, her own +work, from which she was used to fill it, but her hand shook so, +that she entangled it (and yet her hand was small enough to have +come out easily, I am sure), and bungled terribly. The filling of +the pipe and lighting it, those little offices in which I have +commended her discretion, were vilely done, from first to last. +During the whole process, Tackleton stood looking on maliciously +with the half-closed eye; which, whenever it met hers - or caught +it, for it can hardly be said to have ever met another eye: rather +being a kind of trap to snatch it up - augmented her confusion in a +most remarkable degree. + +'Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!' said John. 'I +could have done it better myself, I verify believe!' + +With these good-natured words, he strode away, and presently was +heard, in company with Boxer, and the old horse, and the cart, +making lively music down the road. What time the dreamy Caleb +still stood, watching his blind daughter, with the same expression +on his face. + +'Bertha!' said Caleb, softly. 'What has happened? How changed you +are, my darling, in a few hours - since this morning. YOU silent +and dull all day! What is it? Tell me!' + +'Oh father, father!' cried the Blind Girl, bursting into tears. +'Oh my hard, hard fate!' + +Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered her. + +'But think how cheerful and how happy you have been, Bertha! How +good, and how much loved, by many people.' + +'That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always so mindful of +me! Always so kind to me!' + +Caleb was very much perplexed to understand her. + +'To be - to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear,' he faltered, 'is a +great affliction; but - ' + +'I have never felt it!' cried the Blind Girl. 'I have never felt +it, in its fulness. Never! I have sometimes wished that I could +see you, or could see him - only once, dear father, only for one +little minute - that I might know what it is I treasure up,' she +laid her hands upon her breast, 'and hold here! That I might be +sure and have it right! And sometimes (but then I was a child) I +have wept in my prayers at night, to think that when your images +ascended from my heart to Heaven, they might not be the true +resemblance of yourselves. But I have never had these feelings +long. They have passed away and left me tranquil and contented.' + +'And they will again,' said Caleb. + +'But, father! Oh my good, gentle father, bear with me, if I am +wicked!' said the Blind Girl. 'This is not the sorrow that so +weighs me down!' + +Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes overflow; she +was so earnest and pathetic, but he did not understand her, yet. + +'Bring her to me,' said Bertha. 'I cannot hold it closed and shut +within myself. Bring her to me, father!' + +She knew he hesitated, and said, 'May. Bring May!' + +May heard the mention of her name, and coming quietly towards her, +touched her on the arm. The Blind Girl turned immediately, and +held her by both hands. + +'Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!' said Bertha. 'Read +it with your beautiful eyes, and tell me if the truth is written on +it.' + +'Dear Bertha, Yes!' + +The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless face, down +which the tears were coursing fast, addressed her in these words: + +'There is not, in my soul, a wish or thought that is not for your +good, bright May! There is not, in my soul, a grateful +recollection stronger than the deep remembrance which is stored +there, of the many many times when, in the full pride of sight and +beauty, you have had consideration for Blind Bertha, even when we +two were children, or when Bertha was as much a child as ever +blindness can be! Every blessing on your head! Light upon your +happy course! Not the less, my dear May;' and she drew towards +her, in a closer grasp; 'not the less, my bird, because, to-day, +the knowledge that you are to be His wife has wrung my heart almost +to breaking! Father, May, Mary! oh forgive me that it is so, for +the sake of all he has done to relieve the weariness of my dark +life: and for the sake of the belief you have in me, when I call +Heaven to witness that I could not wish him married to a wife more +worthy of his goodness!' + +While speaking, she had released May Fielding's hands, and clasped +her garments in an attitude of mingled supplication and love. +Sinking lower and lower down, as she proceeded in her strange +confession, she dropped at last at the feet of her friend, and hid +her blind face in the folds of her dress. + +'Great Power!' exclaimed her father, smitten at one blow with the +truth, 'have I deceived her from the cradle, but to break her heart +at last!' + +It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, useful, busy +little Dot - for such she was, whatever faults she had, and however +you may learn to hate her, in good time - it was well for all of +them, I say, that she was there: or where this would have ended, +it were hard to tell. But Dot, recovering her self-possession, +interposed, before May could reply, or Caleb say another word. + +'Come, come, dear Bertha! come away with me! Give her your arm, +May. So! How composed she is, you see, already; and how good it +is of her to mind us,' said the cheery little woman, kissing her +upon the forehead. 'Come away, dear Bertha. Come! and here's her +good father will come with her; won't you, Caleb? To - be - sure!' + +Well, well! she was a noble little Dot in such things, and it must +have been an obdurate nature that could have withstood her +influence. When she had got poor Caleb and his Bertha away, that +they might comfort and console each other, as she knew they only +could, she presently came bouncing back, - the saying is, as fresh +as any daisy; I say fresher - to mount guard over that bridling +little piece of consequence in the cap and gloves, and prevent the +dear old creature from making discoveries. + +'So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly,' said she, drawing a chair +to the fire; 'and while I have it in my lap, here's Mrs. Fielding, +Tilly, will tell me all about the management of Babies, and put me +right in twenty points where I'm as wrong as can be. Won't you, +Mrs. Fielding?' + +Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the popular expression, +was so 'slow' as to perform a fatal surgical operation upon +himself, in emulation of a juggling-trick achieved by his arch- +enemy at breakfast-time; not even he fell half so readily into the +snare prepared for him, as the old lady did into this artful +pitfall. The fact of Tackleton having walked out; and furthermore, +of two or three people having been talking together at a distance, +for two minutes, leaving her to her own resources; was quite enough +to have put her on her dignity, and the bewailment of that +mysterious convulsion in the Indigo trade, for four-and-twenty +hours. But this becoming deference to her experience, on the part +of the young mother, was so irresistible, that after a short +affectation of humility, she began to enlighten her with the best +grace in the world; and sitting bolt upright before the wicked Dot, +she did, in half an hour, deliver more infallible domestic recipes +and precepts, than would (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and +done up that Young Peerybingle, though he had been an Infant +Samson. + +To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework - she carried the +contents of a whole workbox in her pocket; however she contrived +it, I don't know - then did a little nursing; then a little more +needlework; then had a little whispering chat with May, while the +old lady dozed; and so in little bits of bustle, which was quite +her manner always, found it a very short afternoon. Then, as it +grew dark, and as it was a solemn part of this Institution of the +Pic-Nic that she should perform all Bertha's household tasks, she +trimmed the fire, and swept the hearth, and set the tea-board out, +and drew the curtain, and lighted a candle. Then she played an air +or two on a rude kind of harp, which Caleb had contrived for +Bertha, and played them very well; for Nature had made her delicate +little ear as choice a one for music as it would have been for +jewels, if she had had any to wear. By this time it was the +established hour for having tea; and Tackleton came back again, to +share the meal, and spend the evening. + +Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and Caleb had sat +down to his afternoon's work. But he couldn't settle to it, poor +fellow, being anxious and remorseful for his daughter. It was +touching to see him sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding +her so wistfully, and always saying in his face, 'Have I deceived +her from her cradle, but to break her heart!' + +When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had nothing more to do +in washing up the cups and saucers; in a word - for I must come to +it, and there is no use in putting it off - when the time drew nigh +for expecting the Carrier's return in every sound of distant +wheels, her manner changed again, her colour came and went, and she +was very restless. Not as good wives are, when listening for their +husbands. No, no, no. It was another sort of restlessness from +that. + +Wheels heard. A horse's feet. The barking of a dog. The gradual +approach of all the sounds. The scratching paw of Boxer at the +door! + +'Whose step is that!' cried Bertha, starting up. + +'Whose step?' returned the Carrier, standing in the portal, with +his brown face ruddy as a winter berry from the keen night air. +'Why, mine.' + +'The other step,' said Bertha. 'The man's tread behind you!' + +'She is not to be deceived,' observed the Carrier, laughing. 'Come +along, sir. You'll be welcome, never fear!' + +He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the deaf old gentleman +entered. + +'He's not so much a stranger, that you haven't seen him once, +Caleb,' said the Carrier. 'You'll give him house-room till we go?' + +'Oh surely, John, and take it as an honour.' + +'He's the best company on earth, to talk secrets in,' said John. +'I have reasonable good lungs, but he tries 'em, I can tell you. +Sit down, sir. All friends here, and glad to see you!' + +When he had imparted this assurance, in a voice that amply +corroborated what he had said about his lungs, he added in his +natural tone, 'A chair in the chimney-corner, and leave to sit +quite silent and look pleasantly about him, is all he cares for. +He's easily pleased.' + +Bertha had been listening intently. She called Caleb to her side, +when he had set the chair, and asked him, in a low voice, to +describe their visitor. When he had done so (truly now; with +scrupulous fidelity), she moved, for the first time since he had +come in, and sighed, and seemed to have no further interest +concerning him. + +The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that he was, and +fonder of his little wife than ever. + +'A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!' he said, encircling her +with his rough arm, as she stood, removed from the rest; 'and yet I +like her somehow. See yonder, Dot!' + +He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I think she trembled. + +'He's - ha ha ha! - he's full of admiration for you!' said the +Carrier. 'Talked of nothing else, the whole way here. Why, he's a +brave old boy. I like him for it!' + +'I wish he had had a better subject, John,' she said, with an +uneasy glance about the room. At Tackleton especially. + +'A better subject!' cried the jovial John. 'There's no such thing. +Come, off with the great-coat, off with the thick shawl, off with +the heavy wrappers! and a cosy half-hour by the fire! My humble +service, Mistress. A game at cribbage, you and I? That's hearty. +The cards and board, Dot. And a glass of beer here, if there's any +left, small wife!' + +His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who accepting it with +gracious readiness, they were soon engaged upon the game. At +first, the Carrier looked about him sometimes, with a smile, or now +and then called Dot to peep over his shoulder at his hand, and +advise him on some knotty point. But his adversary being a rigid +disciplinarian, and subject to an occasional weakness in respect of +pegging more than she was entitled to, required such vigilance on +his part, as left him neither eyes nor ears to spare. Thus, his +whole attention gradually became absorbed upon the cards; and he +thought of nothing else, until a hand upon his shoulder restored +him to a consciousness of Tackleton. + +'I am sorry to disturb you - but a word, directly.' + +'I'm going to deal,' returned the Carrier. 'It's a crisis.' + +'It is,' said Tackleton. 'Come here, man!' + +There was that in his pale face which made the other rise +immediately, and ask him, in a hurry, what the matter was. + +'Hush! John Peerybingle,' said Tackleton. 'I am sorry for this. +I am indeed. I have been afraid of it. I have suspected it from +the first.' + +'What is it?' asked the Carrier, with a frightened aspect. + +'Hush! I'll show you, if you'll come with me.' + +The Carrier accompanied him, without another word. They went +across a yard, where the stars were shining, and by a little side- +door, into Tackleton's own counting-house, where there was a glass +window, commanding the ware-room, which was closed for the night. +There was no light in the counting-house itself, but there were +lamps in the long narrow ware-room; and consequently the window was +bright. + +'A moment!' said Tackleton. 'Can you bear to look through that +window, do you think?' + +'Why not?' returned the Carrier. + +'A moment more,' said Tackleton. 'Don't commit any violence. It's +of no use. It's dangerous too. You're a strong-made man; and you +might do murder before you know it.' + +The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a step as if he +had been struck. In one stride he was at the window, and he saw - + +Oh Shadow on the Hearth! Oh truthful Cricket! Oh perfidious Wife! + +He saw her, with the old man - old no longer, but erect and gallant +- bearing in his hand the false white hair that had won his way +into their desolate and miserable home. He saw her listening to +him, as he bent his head to whisper in her ear; and suffering him +to clasp her round the waist, as they moved slowly down the dim +wooden gallery towards the door by which they had entered it. He +saw them stop, and saw her turn - to have the face, the face he +loved so, so presented to his view! - and saw her, with her own +hands, adjust the lie upon his head, laughing, as she did it, at +his unsuspicious nature! + +He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it would have +beaten down a lion. But opening it immediately again, he spread it +out before the eyes of Tackleton (for he was tender of her, even +then), and so, as they passed out, fell down upon a desk, and was +as weak as any infant. + +He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his horse and parcels, +when she came into the room, prepared for going home. + +'Now, John, dear! Good night, May! Good night, Bertha!' + +Could she kiss them? Could she be blithe and cheerful in her +parting? Could she venture to reveal her face to them without a +blush? Yes. Tackleton observed her closely, and she did all this. + +Tilly was hushing the Baby, and she crossed and re-crossed +Tackleton, a dozen times, repeating drowsily: + +'Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, then, wring its +hearts almost to breaking; and did its fathers deceive it from its +cradles but to break its hearts at last!' + +'Now, Tilly, give me the Baby! Good night, Mr. Tackleton. Where's +John, for goodness' sake?' + +'He's going to walk beside the horse's head,' said Tackleton; who +helped her to her seat. + +'My dear John. Walk? To-night?' + +The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty sign in the +affirmative; and the false stranger and the little nurse being in +their places, the old horse moved off. Boxer, the unconscious +Boxer, running on before, running back, running round and round the +cart, and barking as triumphantly and merrily as ever. + +When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting May and her mother +home, poor Caleb sat down by the fire beside his daughter; anxious +and remorseful at the core; and still saying in his wistful +contemplation of her, 'Have I deceived her from her cradle, but to +break her heart at last!' + +The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, had all stopped, +and run down, long ago. In the faint light and silence, the +imperturbably calm dolls, the agitated rocking-horses with +distended eyes and nostrils, the old gentlemen at the street-doors, +standing half doubled up upon their failing knees and ankles, the +wry-faced nut-crackers, the very Beasts upon their way into the +Ark, in twos, like a Boarding School out walking, might have been +imagined to be stricken motionless with fantastic wonder, at Dot +being false, or Tackleton beloved, under any combination of +circumstances. + + + +CHAPTER III - Chirp the Third + + + +THE Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the Carrier sat down +by his fireside. So troubled and grief-worn, that he seemed to +scare the Cuckoo, who, having cut his ten melodious announcements +as short as possible, plunged back into the Moorish Palace again, +and clapped his little door behind him, as if the unwonted +spectacle were too much for his feelings. + +If the little Haymaker had been armed with the sharpest of scythes, +and had cut at every stroke into the Carrier's heart, he never +could have gashed and wounded it, as Dot had done. + +It was a heart so full of love for her; so bound up and held +together by innumerable threads of winning remembrance, spun from +the daily working of her many qualities of endearment; it was a +heart in which she had enshrined herself so gently and so closely; +a heart so single and so earnest in its Truth, so strong in right, +so weak in wrong; that it could cherish neither passion nor revenge +at first, and had only room to hold the broken image of its Idol. + +But, slowly, slowly, as the Carrier sat brooding on his hearth, now +cold and dark, other and fiercer thoughts began to rise within him, +as an angry wind comes rising in the night. The Stranger was +beneath his outraged roof. Three steps would take him to his +chamber-door. One blow would beat it in. 'You might do murder +before you know it,' Tackleton had said. How could it be murder, +if he gave the villain time to grapple with him hand to hand! He +was the younger man. + +It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood of his mind. It +was an angry thought, goading him to some avenging act, that should +change the cheerful house into a haunted place which lonely +travellers would dread to pass by night; and where the timid would +see shadows struggling in the ruined windows when the moon was dim, +and hear wild noises in the stormy weather. + +He was the younger man! Yes, yes; some lover who had won the heart +that HE had never touched. Some lover of her early choice, of whom +she had thought and dreamed, for whom she had pined and pined, when +he had fancied her so happy by his side. O agony to think of it! + +She had been above-stairs with the Baby, getting it to bed. As he +sat brooding on the hearth, she came close beside him, without his +knowledge - in the turning of the rack of his great misery, he lost +all other sounds - and put her little stool at his feet. He only +knew it, when he felt her hand upon his own, and saw her looking up +into his face. + +With wonder? No. It was his first impression, and he was fain to +look at her again, to set it right. No, not with wonder. With an +eager and inquiring look; but not with wonder. At first it was +alarmed and serious; then, it changed into a strange, wild, +dreadful smile of recognition of his thoughts; then, there was +nothing but her clasped hands on her brow, and her bent head, and +falling hair. + +Though the power of Omnipotence had been his to wield at that +moment, he had too much of its diviner property of Mercy in his +breast, to have turned one feather's weight of it against her. But +he could not bear to see her crouching down upon the little seat +where he had often looked on her, with love and pride, so innocent +and gay; and, when she rose and left him, sobbing as she went, he +felt it a relief to have the vacant place beside him rather than +her so long-cherished presence. This in itself was anguish keener +than all, reminding him how desolate he was become, and how the +great bond of his life was rent asunder. + +The more he felt this, and the more he knew he could have better +borne to see her lying prematurely dead before him with their +little child upon her breast, the higher and the stronger rose his +wrath against his enemy. He looked about him for a weapon. + +There was a gun, hanging on the wall. He took it down, and moved a +pace or two towards the door of the perfidious Stranger's room. He +knew the gun was loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was just to +shoot this man like a wild beast, seized him, and dilated in his +mind until it grew into a monstrous demon in complete possession of +him, casting out all milder thoughts and setting up its undivided +empire. + +That phrase is wrong. Not casting out his milder thoughts, but +artfully transforming them. Changing them into scourges to drive +him on. Turning water into blood, love into hate, gentleness into +blind ferocity. Her image, sorrowing, humbled, but still pleading +to his tenderness and mercy with resistless power, never left his +mind; but, staying there, it urged him to the door; raised the +weapon to his shoulder; fitted and nerved his finger to the +trigger; and cried 'Kill him! In his bed!' + +He reversed the gun to beat the stock up the door; he already held +it lifted in the air; some indistinct design was in his thoughts of +calling out to him to fly, for God's sake, by the window - + +When, suddenly, the struggling fire illumined the whole chimney +with a glow of light; and the Cricket on the Hearth began to Chirp! + +No sound he could have heard, no human voice, not even hers, could +so have moved and softened him. The artless words in which she had +told him of her love for this same Cricket, were once more freshly +spoken; her trembling, earnest manner at the moment, was again +before him; her pleasant voice - O what a voice it was, for making +household music at the fireside of an honest man! - thrilled +through and through his better nature, and awoke it into life and +action. + +He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his sleep, +awakened from a frightful dream; and put the gun aside. Clasping +his hands before his face, he then sat down again beside the fire, +and found relief in tears. + +The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, and stood in +Fairy shape before him. + +'"I love it,"' said the Fairy Voice, repeating what he well +remembered, '"for the many times I have heard it, and the many +thoughts its harmless music has given me."' + +'She said so!' cried the Carrier. 'True!' + +'"This has been a happy home, John; and I love the Cricket for its +sake!"' + +'It has been, Heaven knows,' returned the Carrier. 'She made it +happy, always, - until now.' + +'So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, busy, and +light-hearted!' said the Voice. + +'Otherwise I never could have loved her as I did,' returned the +Carrier. + +The Voice, correcting him, said 'do.' + +The Carrier repeated 'as I did.' But not firmly. His faltering +tongue resisted his control, and would speak in its own way, for +itself and him. + +The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its hand and said: + +'Upon your own hearth - ' + +'The hearth she has blighted,' interposed the Carrier. + +'The hearth she has - how often! - blessed and brightened,' said +the Cricket; 'the hearth which, but for her, were only a few stones +and bricks and rusty bars, but which has been, through her, the +Altar of your Home; on which you have nightly sacrificed some petty +passion, selfishness, or care, and offered up the homage of a +tranquil mind, a trusting nature, and an overflowing heart; so that +the smoke from this poor chimney has gone upward with a better +fragrance than the richest incense that is burnt before the richest +shrines in all the gaudy temples of this world! - Upon your own +hearth; in its quiet sanctuary; surrounded by its gentle influences +and associations; hear her! Hear me! Hear everything that speaks +the language of your hearth and home!' + +'And pleads for her?' inquired the Carrier. + +'All things that speak the language of your hearth and home, must +plead for her!' returned the Cricket. 'For they speak the truth.' + +And while the Carrier, with his head upon his hands, continued to +sit meditating in his chair, the Presence stood beside him, +suggesting his reflections by its power, and presenting them before +him, as in a glass or picture. It was not a solitary Presence. +From the hearthstone, from the chimney, from the clock, the pipe, +the kettle, and the cradle; from the floor, the walls, the ceiling, +and the stairs; from the cart without, and the cupboard within, and +the household implements; from every thing and every place with +which she had ever been familiar, and with which she had ever +entwined one recollection of herself in her unhappy husband's mind; +Fairies came trooping forth. Not to stand beside him as the +Cricket did, but to busy and bestir themselves. To do all honour +to her image. To pull him by the skirts, and point to it when it +appeared. To cluster round it, and embrace it, and strew flowers +for it to tread on. To try to crown its fair head with their tiny +hands. To show that they were fond of it and loved it; and that +there was not one ugly, wicked or accusatory creature to claim +knowledge of it - none but their playful and approving selves. + +His thoughts were constant to her image. It was always there. + +She sat plying her needle, before the fire, and singing to herself. +Such a blithe, thriving, steady little Dot! The fairy figures +turned upon him all at once, by one consent, with one prodigious +concentrated stare, and seemed to say, 'Is this the light wife you +are mourning for!' + +There were sounds of gaiety outside, musical instruments, and noisy +tongues, and laughter. A crowd of young merry-makers came pouring +in, among whom were May Fielding and a score of pretty girls. Dot +was the fairest of them all; as young as any of them too. They +came to summon her to join their party. It was a dance. If ever +little foot were made for dancing, hers was, surely. But she +laughed, and shook her head, and pointed to her cookery on the +fire, and her table ready spread: with an exulting defiance that +rendered her more charming than she was before. And so she merrily +dismissed them, nodding to her would-be partners, one by one, as +they passed, but with a comical indifference, enough to make them +go and drown themselves immediately if they were her admirers - and +they must have been so, more or less; they couldn't help it. And +yet indifference was not her character. O no! For presently, +there came a certain Carrier to the door; and bless her what a +welcome she bestowed upon him! + +Again the staring figures turned upon him all at once, and seemed +to say, 'Is this the wife who has forsaken you!' + +A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture: call it what you +will. A great shadow of the Stranger, as he first stood underneath +their roof; covering its surface, and blotting out all other +objects. But the nimble Fairies worked like bees to clear it off +again. And Dot again was there. Still bright and beautiful. + +Rocking her little Baby in its cradle, singing to it softly, and +resting her head upon a shoulder which had its counterpart in the +musing figure by which the Fairy Cricket stood. + +The night - I mean the real night: not going by Fairy clocks - was +wearing now; and in this stage of the Carrier's thoughts, the moon +burst out, and shone brightly in the sky. Perhaps some calm and +quiet light had risen also, in his mind; and he could think more +soberly of what had happened. + +Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals upon the +glass - always distinct, and big, and thoroughly defined - it never +fell so darkly as at first. Whenever it appeared, the Fairies +uttered a general cry of consternation, and plied their little arms +and legs, with inconceivable activity, to rub it out. And whenever +they got at Dot again, and showed her to him once more, bright and +beautiful, they cheered in the most inspiring manner. + +They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful and bright, for +they were Household Spirits to whom falsehood is annihilation; and +being so, what Dot was there for them, but the one active, beaming, +pleasant little creature who had been the light and sun of the +Carrier's Home! + +The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they showed her, with +the Baby, gossiping among a knot of sage old matrons, and affecting +to be wondrous old and matronly herself, and leaning in a staid, +demure old way upon her husband's arm, attempting - she! such a bud +of a little woman - to convey the idea of having abjured the +vanities of the world in general, and of being the sort of person +to whom it was no novelty at all to be a mother; yet in the same +breath, they showed her, laughing at the Carrier for being awkward, +and pulling up his shirt-collar to make him smart, and mincing +merrily about that very room to teach him how to dance! + +They turned, and stared immensely at him when they showed her with +the Blind Girl; for, though she carried cheerfulness and animation +with her wheresoever she went, she bore those influences into Caleb +Plummer's home, heaped up and running over. The Blind Girl's love +for her, and trust in her, and gratitude to her; her own good busy +way of setting Bertha's thanks aside; her dexterous little arts for +filling up each moment of the visit in doing something useful to +the house, and really working hard while feigning to make holiday; +her bountiful provision of those standing delicacies, the Veal and +Ham-Pie and the bottles of Beer; her radiant little face arriving +at the door, and taking leave; the wonderful expression in her +whole self, from her neat foot to the crown of her head, of being a +part of the establishment - a something necessary to it, which it +couldn't be without; all this the Fairies revelled in, and loved +her for. And once again they looked upon him all at once, +appealingly, and seemed to say, while some among them nestled in +her dress and fondled her, 'Is this the wife who has betrayed your +confidence!' + +More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long thoughtful night, +they showed her to him sitting on her favourite seat, with her bent +head, her hands clasped on her brow, her falling hair. As he had +seen her last. And when they found her thus, they neither turned +nor looked upon him, but gathered close round her, and comforted +and kissed her, and pressed on one another to show sympathy and +kindness to her, and forgot him altogether. + +Thus the night passed. The moon went down; the stars grew pale; +the cold day broke; the sun rose. The Carrier still sat, musing, +in the chimney corner. He had sat there, with his head upon his +hands, all night. All night the faithful Cricket had been Chirp, +Chirp, Chirping on the Hearth. All night he had listened to its +voice. All night the household Fairies had been busy with him. +All night she had been amiable and blameless in the glass, except +when that one shadow fell upon it. + +He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and dressed himself. +He couldn't go about his customary cheerful avocations - he wanted +spirit for them - but it mattered the less, that it was Tackleton's +wedding-day, and he had arranged to make his rounds by proxy. He +thought to have gone merrily to church with Dot. But such plans +were at an end. It was their own wedding-day too. Ah! how little +he had looked for such a close to such a year! + +The Carrier had expected that Tackleton would pay him an early +visit; and he was right. He had not walked to and fro before his +own door, many minutes, when he saw the Toy-merchant coming in his +chaise along the road. As the chaise drew nearer, he perceived +that Tackleton was dressed out sprucely for his marriage, and that +he had decorated his horse's head with flowers and favours. + +The horse looked much more like a bridegroom than Tackleton, whose +half-closed eye was more disagreeably expressive than ever. But +the Carrier took little heed of this. His thoughts had other +occupation. + +'John Peerybingle!' said Tackleton, with an air of condolence. 'My +good fellow, how do you find yourself this morning?' + +'I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton,' returned the +Carrier, shaking his head: 'for I have been a good deal disturbed +in my mind. But it's over now! Can you spare me half an hour or +so, for some private talk?' + +'I came on purpose,' returned Tackleton, alighting. 'Never mind +the horse. He'll stand quiet enough, with the reins over this +post, if you'll give him a mouthful of hay.' + +The Carrier having brought it from his stable, and set it before +him, they turned into the house. + +'You are not married before noon,' he said, 'I think?' + +'No,' answered Tackleton. 'Plenty of time. Plenty of time.' + +When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was rapping at the +Stranger's door; which was only removed from it by a few steps. +One of her very red eyes (for Tilly had been crying all night long, +because her mistress cried) was at the keyhole; and she was +knocking very loud; and seemed frightened. + +'If you please I can't make nobody hear,' said Tilly, looking +round. 'I hope nobody an't gone and been and died if you please!' + +This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy emphasised with various new +raps and kicks at the door; which led to no result whatever. + +'Shall I go?' said Tackleton. 'It's curious.' + +The Carrier, who had turned his face from the door, signed to him +to go if he would. + +So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy's relief; and he too kicked and +knocked; and he too failed to get the least reply. But he thought +of trying the handle of the door; and as it opened easily, he +peeped in, looked in, went in, and soon came running out again. + +'John Peerybingle,' said Tackleton, in his ear. 'I hope there has +been nothing - nothing rash in the night?' + +The Carrier turned upon him quickly. + +'Because he's gone!' said Tackleton; 'and the window's open. I +don't see any marks - to be sure it's almost on a level with the +garden: but I was afraid there might have been some - some +scuffle. Eh?' + +He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at him +so hard. And he gave his eye, and his face, and his whole person, +a sharp twist. As if he would have screwed the truth out of him. + +'Make yourself easy,' said the Carrier. 'He went into that room +last night, without harm in word or deed from me, and no one has +entered it since. He is away of his own free will. I'd go out +gladly at that door, and beg my bread from house to house, for +life, if I could so change the past that he had never come. But he +has come and gone. And I have done with him!' + +'Oh! - Well, I think he has got off pretty easy,' said Tackleton, +taking a chair. + +The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down too, and shaded +his face with his hand, for some little time, before proceeding. + +'You showed me last night,' he said at length, 'my wife; my wife +that I love; secretly - ' + +'And tenderly,' insinuated Tackleton. + +'Conniving at that man's disguise, and giving him opportunities of +meeting her alone. I think there's no sight I wouldn't have rather +seen than that. I think there's no man in the world I wouldn't +have rather had to show it me.' + +'I confess to having had my suspicions always,' said Tackleton. +'And that has made me objectionable here, I know.' + +'But as you did show it me,' pursued the Carrier, not minding him; +'and as you saw her, my wife, my wife that I love' - his voice, and +eye, and hand, grew steadier and firmer as he repeated these words: +evidently in pursuance of a steadfast purpose - 'as you saw her at +this disadvantage, it is right and just that you should also see +with my eyes, and look into my breast, and know what my mind is, +upon the subject. For it's settled,' said the Carrier, regarding +him attentively. 'And nothing can shake it now.' + +Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, about its being +necessary to vindicate something or other; but he was overawed by +the manner of his companion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it +had a something dignified and noble in it, which nothing but the +soul of generous honour dwelling in the man could have imparted. + +'I am a plain, rough man,' pursued the Carrier, 'with very little +to recommend me. I am not a clever man, as you very well know. I +am not a young man. I loved my little Dot, because I had seen her +grow up, from a child, in her father's house; because I knew how +precious she was; because she had been my life, for years and +years. There's many men I can't compare with, who never could have +loved my little Dot like me, I think!' + +He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time with his foot, +before resuming. + +'I often thought that though I wasn't good enough for her, I should +make her a kind husband, and perhaps know her value better than +another; and in this way I reconciled it to myself, and came to +think it might be possible that we should be married. And in the +end it came about, and we were married.' + +'Hah!' said Tackleton, with a significant shake of the head. + +'I had studied myself; I had had experience of myself; I knew how +much I loved her, and how happy I should be,' pursued the Carrier. +'But I had not - I feel it now - sufficiently considered her.' + +'To be sure,' said Tackleton. 'Giddiness, frivolity, fickleness, +love of admiration! Not considered! All left out of sight! Hah!' + +'You had best not interrupt me,' said the Carrier, with some +sternness, 'till you understand me; and you're wide of doing so. +If, yesterday, I'd have struck that man down at a blow, who dared +to breathe a word against her, to-day I'd set my foot upon his +face, if he was my brother!' + +The Toy-merchant gazed at him in astonishment. He went on in a +softer tone: + +'Did I consider,' said the Carrier, 'that I took her - at her age, +and with her beauty - from her young companions, and the many +scenes of which she was the ornament; in which she was the +brightest little star that ever shone, to shut her up from day to +day in my dull house, and keep my tedious company? Did I consider +how little suited I was to her sprightly humour, and how wearisome +a plodding man like me must be, to one of her quick spirit? Did I +consider that it was no merit in me, or claim in me, that I loved +her, when everybody must, who knew her? Never. I took advantage +of her hopeful nature and her cheerful disposition; and I married +her. I wish I never had! For her sake; not for mine!' + +The Toy-merchant gazed at him, without winking. Even the half-shut +eye was open now. + +'Heaven bless her!' said the Carrier, 'for the cheerful constancy +with which she tried to keep the knowledge of this from me! And +Heaven help me, that, in my slow mind, I have not found it out +before! Poor child! Poor Dot! I not to find it out, who have +seen her eyes fill with tears, when such a marriage as our own was +spoken of! I, who have seen the secret trembling on her lips a +hundred times, and never suspected it till last night! Poor girl! +That I could ever hope she would be fond of me! That I could ever +believe she was!' + +'She made a show of it,' said Tackleton. 'She made such a show of +it, that to tell you the truth it was the origin of my misgivings.' + +And here he asserted the superiority of May Fielding, who certainly +made no sort of show of being fond of HIM. + +'She has tried,' said the poor Carrier, with greater emotion than +he had exhibited yet; 'I only now begin to know how hard she has +tried, to be my dutiful and zealous wife. How good she has been; +how much she has done; how brave and strong a heart she has; let +the happiness I have known under this roof bear witness! It will +be some help and comfort to me, when I am here alone.' + +'Here alone?' said Tackleton. 'Oh! Then you do mean to take some +notice of this?' + +'I mean,' returned the Carrier, 'to do her the greatest kindness, +and make her the best reparation, in my power. I can release her +from the daily pain of an unequal marriage, and the struggle to +conceal it. She shall be as free as I can render her.' + +'Make HER reparation!' exclaimed Tackleton, twisting and turning +his great ears with his hands. 'There must be something wrong +here. You didn't say that, of course.' + +The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy-merchant, and +shook him like a reed. + +'Listen to me!' he said. 'And take care that you hear me right. +Listen to me. Do I speak plainly?' + +'Very plainly indeed,' answered Tackleton. + +'As if I meant it?' + +'Very much as if you meant it.' + +'I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night,' exclaimed the +Carrier. 'On the spot where she has often sat beside me, with her +sweet face looking into mine. I called up her whole life, day by +day. I had her dear self, in its every passage, in review before +me. And upon my soul she is innocent, if there is One to judge the +innocent and guilty!' + +Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household Fairies! + +'Passion and distrust have left me!' said the Carrier; 'and nothing +but my grief remains. In an unhappy moment some old lover, better +suited to her tastes and years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me, +against her will; returned. In an unhappy moment, taken by +surprise, and wanting time to think of what she did, she made +herself a party to his treachery, by concealing it. Last night she +saw him, in the interview we witnessed. It was wrong. But +otherwise than this she is innocent if there is truth on earth!' + +'If that is your opinion' - Tackleton began. + +'So, let her go!' pursued the Carrier. 'Go, with my blessing for +the many happy hours she has given me, and my forgiveness for any +pang she has caused me. Let her go, and have the peace of mind I +wish her! She'll never hate me. She'll learn to like me better, +when I'm not a drag upon her, and she wears the chain I have +riveted, more lightly. This is the day on which I took her, with +so little thought for her enjoyment, from her home. To-day she +shall return to it, and I will trouble her no more. Her father and +mother will be here to-day - we had made a little plan for keeping +it together - and they shall take her home. I can trust her, +there, or anywhere. She leaves me without blame, and she will live +so I am sure. If I should die - I may perhaps while she is still +young; I have lost some courage in a few hours - she'll find that I +remembered her, and loved her to the last! This is the end of what +you showed me. Now, it's over!' + +'O no, John, not over. Do not say it's over yet! Not quite yet. +I have heard your noble words. I could not steal away, pretending +to be ignorant of what has affected me with such deep gratitude. +Do not say it's over, 'till the clock has struck again!' + +She had entered shortly after Tackleton, and had remained there. +She never looked at Tackleton, but fixed her eyes upon her husband. +But she kept away from him, setting as wide a space as possible +between them; and though she spoke with most impassioned +earnestness, she went no nearer to him even then. How different in +this from her old self! + +'No hand can make the clock which will strike again for me the +hours that are gone,' replied the Carrier, with a faint smile. +'But let it be so, if you will, my dear. It will strike soon. +It's of little matter what we say. I'd try to please you in a +harder case than that.' + +'Well!' muttered Tackleton. 'I must be off, for when the clock +strikes again, it'll be necessary for me to be upon my way to +church. Good morning, John Peerybingle. I'm sorry to be deprived +of the pleasure of your company. Sorry for the loss, and the +occasion of it too!' + +'I have spoken plainly?' said the Carrier, accompanying him to the +door. + +'Oh quite!' + +'And you'll remember what I have said?' + +'Why, if you compel me to make the observation,' said Tackleton, +previously taking the precaution of getting into his chaise; 'I +must say that it was so very unexpected, that I'm far from being +likely to forget it.' + +'The better for us both,' returned the Carrier. 'Good bye. I give +you joy!' + +'I wish I could give it to YOU,' said Tackleton. 'As I can't; +thank'ee. Between ourselves, (as I told you before, eh?) I don't +much think I shall have the less joy in my married life, because +May hasn't been too officious about me, and too demonstrative. +Good bye! Take care of yourself.' + +The Carrier stood looking after him until he was smaller in the +distance than his horse's flowers and favours near at hand; and +then, with a deep sigh, went strolling like a restless, broken man, +among some neighbouring elms; unwilling to return until the clock +was on the eve of striking. + +His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; but often +dried her eyes and checked herself, to say how good he was, how +excellent he was! and once or twice she laughed; so heartily, +triumphantly, and incoherently (still crying all the time), that +Tilly was quite horrified. + +'Ow if you please don't!' said Tilly. 'It's enough to dead and +bury the Baby, so it is if you please.' + +'Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, Tilly,' inquired +her mistress, drying her eyes; 'when I can't live here, and have +gone to my old home?' + +'Ow if you please don't!' cried Tilly, throwing back her head, and +bursting out into a howl - she looked at the moment uncommonly like +Boxer. 'Ow if you please don't! Ow, what has everybody gone and +been and done with everybody, making everybody else so wretched! +Ow-w-w-w!' + +The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, into such a +deplorable howl, the more tremendous from its long suppression, +that she must infallibly have awakened the Baby, and frightened him +into something serious (probably convulsions), if her eyes had not +encountered Caleb Plummer, leading in his daughter. This spectacle +restoring her to a sense of the proprieties, she stood for some few +moments silent, with her mouth wide open; and then, posting off to +the bed on which the Baby lay asleep, danced in a weird, Saint +Vitus manner on the floor, and at the same time rummaged with her +face and head among the bedclothes, apparently deriving much relief +from those extraordinary operations. + +'Mary!' said Bertha. 'Not at the marriage!' + +'I told her you would not be there, mum,' whispered Caleb. 'I +heard as much last night. But bless you,' said the little man, +taking her tenderly by both hands, 'I don't care for what they say. +I don't believe them. There an't much of me, but that little +should be torn to pieces sooner than I'd trust a word against you!' + +He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might have +hugged one of his own dolls. + +'Bertha couldn't stay at home this morning,' said Caleb. 'She was +afraid, I know, to hear the bells ring, and couldn't trust herself +to be so near them on their wedding-day. So we started in good +time, and came here. I have been thinking of what I have done,' +said Caleb, after a moment's pause; 'I have been blaming myself +till I hardly knew what to do or where to turn, for the distress of +mind I have caused her; and I've come to the conclusion that I'd +better, if you'll stay with me, mum, the while, tell her the truth. +You'll stay with me the while?' he inquired, trembling from head to +foot. 'I don't know what effect it may have upon her; I don't know +what she'll think of me; I don't know that she'll ever care for her +poor father afterwards. But it's best for her that she should be +undeceived, and I must bear the consequences as I deserve!' + +' Mary,' said Bertha, 'where is your hand! Ah! Here it is here it +is!' pressing it to her lips, with a smile, and drawing it through +her arm. 'I heard them speaking softly among themselves, last +night, of some blame against you. They were wrong.' + +The Carrier's Wife was silent. Caleb answered for her. + +'They were wrong,' he said. + +'I knew it!' cried Bertha, proudly. 'I told them so. I scorned to +hear a word! Blame HER with justice!' she pressed the hand between +her own, and the soft cheek against her face. 'No! I am not so +blind as that.' + +Her father went on one side of her, while Dot remained upon the +other: holding her hand. + +'I know you all,' said Bertha, 'better than you think. But none so +well as her. Not even you, father. There is nothing half so real +and so true about me, as she is. If I could be restored to sight +this instant, and not a word were spoken, I could choose her from a +crowd! My sister!' + +'Bertha, my dear!' said Caleb, 'I have something on my mind I want +to tell you, while we three are alone. Hear me kindly! I have a +confession to make to you, my darling.' + +'A confession, father?' + +'I have wandered from the truth and lost myself, my child,' said +Caleb, with a pitiable expression in his bewildered face. 'I have +wandered from the truth, intending to be kind to you; and have been +cruel.' + +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him, and repeated +'Cruel!' + +'He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha,' said Dot. 'You'll say +so, presently. You'll be the first to tell him so.' + +'He cruel to me!' cried Bertha, with a smile of incredulity. + +'Not meaning it, my child,' said Caleb. 'But I have been; though I +never suspected it, till yesterday. My dear blind daughter, hear +me and forgive me! The world you live in, heart of mine, doesn't +exist as I have represented it. The eyes you have trusted in, have +been false to you.' + +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him still; but drew +back, and clung closer to her friend. + +'Your road in life was rough, my poor one,' said Caleb, 'and I +meant to smooth it for you. I have altered objects, changed the +characters of people, invented many things that never have been, to +make you happier. I have had concealments from you, put deceptions +on you, God forgive me! and surrounded you with fancies.' + +'But living people are not fancies!' she said hurriedly, and +turning very pale, and still retiring from him. 'You can't change +them.' + +'I have done so, Bertha,' pleaded Caleb. 'There is one person that +you know, my dove - ' + +'Oh father! why do you say, I know?' she answered, in a term of +keen reproach. 'What and whom do I know! I who have no leader! I +so miserably blind.' + +In the anguish of her heart, she stretched out her hands, as if she +were groping her way; then spread them, in a manner most forlorn +and sad, upon her face. + +'The marriage that takes place to-day,' said Caleb, 'is with a +stern, sordid, grinding man. A hard master to you and me, my dear, +for many years. Ugly in his looks, and in his nature. Cold and +callous always. Unlike what I have painted him to you in +everything, my child. In everything.' + +'Oh why,' cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it seemed, almost +beyond endurance, 'why did you ever do this! Why did you ever fill +my heart so full, and then come in like Death, and tear away the +objects of my love! O Heaven, how blind I am! How helpless and +alone!' + +Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no reply but in his +penitence and sorrow. + +She had been but a short time in this passion of regret, when the +Cricket on the Hearth, unheard by all but her, began to chirp. Not +merrily, but in a low, faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful +that her tears began to flow; and when the Presence which had been +beside the Carrier all night, appeared behind her, pointing to her +father, they fell down like rain. + +She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was conscious, +through her blindness, of the Presence hovering about her father. + +'Mary,' said the Blind Girl, 'tell me what my home is. What it +truly is.' + +'It is a poor place, Bertha; very poor and bare indeed. The house +will scarcely keep out wind and rain another winter. It is as +roughly shielded from the weather, Bertha,' Dot continued in a low, +clear voice, 'as your poor father in his sack-cloth coat.' + +The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the Carrier's +little wife aside. + +'Those presents that I took such care of; that came almost at my +wish, and were so dearly welcome to me,' she said, trembling; +'where did they come from? Did you send them?' + +'No.' + +'Who then?' + +Dot saw she knew, already, and was silent. The Blind Girl spread +her hands before her face again. But in quite another manner now. + +'Dear Mary, a moment. One moment? More this way. Speak softly to +me. You are true, I know. You'd not deceive me now; would you?' + +'No, Bertha, indeed!' + +'No, I am sure you would not. You have too much pity for me. +Mary, look across the room to where we were just now - to where my +father is - my father, so compassionate and loving to me - and tell +me what you see.' + +'I see,' said Dot, who understood her well, 'an old man sitting in +a chair, and leaning sorrowfully on the back, with his face resting +on his hand. As if his child should comfort him, Bertha.' + +'Yes, yes. She will. Go on.' + +'He is an old man, worn with care and work. He is a spare, +dejected, thoughtful, grey-haired man. I see him now, despondent +and bowed down, and striving against nothing. But, Bertha, I have +seen him many times before, and striving hard in many ways for one +great sacred object. And I honour his grey head, and bless him!' + +The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing herself upon her +knees before him, took the grey head to her breast. + +'It is my sight restored. It is my sight!' she cried. 'I have +been blind, and now my eyes are open. I never knew him! To think +I might have died, and never truly seen the father who has been so +loving to me!' + +There were no words for Caleb's emotion. + +'There is not a gallant figure on this earth,' exclaimed the Blind +Girl, holding him in her embrace, 'that I would love so dearly, and +would cherish so devotedly, as this! The greyer, and more worn, +the dearer, father! Never let them say I am blind again. There's +not a furrow in his face, there's not a hair upon his head, that +shall be forgotten in my prayers and thanks to Heaven!' + +Caleb managed to articulate 'My Bertha!' + +'And in my blindness, I believed him,' said the girl, caressing him +with tears of exquisite affection, 'to be so different! And having +him beside me, day by day, so mindful of me - always, never dreamed +of this!' + +'The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha,' said poor Caleb. +'He's gone!' + +'Nothing is gone,' she answered. 'Dearest father, no! Everything +is here - in you. The father that I loved so well; the father that +I never loved enough, and never knew; the benefactor whom I first +began to reverence and love, because he had such sympathy for me; +All are here in you. Nothing is dead to me. The soul of all that +was most dear to me is here - here, with the worn face, and the +grey head. And I am NOT blind, father, any longer!' + +Dot's whole attention had been concentrated, during this discourse, +upon the father and daughter; but looking, now, towards the little +Haymaker in the Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within a +few minutes of striking, and fell, immediately, into a nervous and +excited state. + +'Father,' said Bertha, hesitating. 'Mary.' + +'Yes, my dear,' returned Caleb. 'Here she is.' + +'There is no change in HER. You never told me anything of HER that +was not true?' + +'I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid,' returned Caleb, 'if +I could have made her better than she was. But I must have changed +her for the worse, if I had changed her at all. Nothing could +improve her, Bertha.' + +Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked the question, +her delight and pride in the reply and her renewed embrace of Dot, +were charming to behold. + +'More changes than you think for, may happen though, my dear,' said +Dot. 'Changes for the better, I mean; changes for great joy to +some of us. You mustn't let them startle you too much, if any such +should ever happen, and affect you? Are those wheels upon the +road? You've a quick ear, Bertha. Are they wheels?' + +'Yes. Coming very fast.' + +'I - I - I know you have a quick ear,' said Dot, placing her hand +upon her heart, and evidently talking on, as fast as she could to +hide its palpitating state, 'because I have noticed it often, and +because you were so quick to find out that strange step last night. +Though why you should have said, as I very well recollect you did +say, Bertha, "Whose step is that!" and why you should have taken +any greater observation of it than of any other step, I don't know. +Though as I said just now, there are great changes in the world: +great changes: and we can't do better than prepare ourselves to be +surprised at hardly anything.' + +Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that she spoke to him, +no less than to his daughter. He saw her, with astonishment, so +fluttered and distressed that she could scarcely breathe; and +holding to a chair, to save herself from falling. + +'They are wheels indeed!' she panted. 'Coming nearer! Nearer! +Very close! And now you hear them stopping at the garden-gate! +And now you hear a step outside the door - the same step, Bertha, +is it not! - and now!' - + +She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; and running up to +Caleb put her hands upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the +room, and flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down +upon them. + +'Is it over?' cried Dot. + +'Yes!' + +'Happily over?' + +'Yes!' + +'Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the +like of it before?' cried Dot. + +'If my boy in the Golden South Americas was alive' - said Caleb, +trembling. + +'He is alive!' shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes, and +clapping them in ecstasy; 'look at him! See where he stands before +you, healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear living, +loving brother, Bertha + +All honour to the little creature for her transports! All honour +to her tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one +another's arms! All honour to the heartiness with which she met +the sunburnt sailor-fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half-way, +and never turned her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to +kiss it, freely, and to press her to his bounding heart! + +And honour to the Cuckoo too - why not! - for bursting out of the +trap-door in the Moorish Palace like a house-breaker, and +hiccoughing twelve times on the assembled company, as if he had got +drunk for joy! + +The Carrier, entering, started back. And well he might, to find +himself in such good company. + +'Look, John!' said Caleb, exultingly, 'look here! My own boy from +the Golden South Americas! My own son! Him that you fitted out, +and sent away yourself! Him that you were always such a friend +to!' + +The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, as +some feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf Man in +the Cart, said: + +'Edward! Was it you?' + +'Now tell him all!' cried Dot. 'Tell him all, Edward; and don't +spare me, for nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes, ever +again.' + +'I was the man,' said Edward. + +'And could you steal, disguised, into the house of your old +friend?' rejoined the Carrier. 'There was a frank boy once - how +many years is it, Caleb, since we heard that he was dead, and had +it proved, we thought? - who never would have done that.' + +'There was a generous friend of mine, once; more a father to me +than a friend;' said Edward, 'who never would have judged me, or +any other man, unheard. You were he. So I am certain you will +hear me now.' + +The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still kept far away +from him, replied, 'Well! that's but fair. I will.' + +'You must know that when I left here, a boy,' said Edward, 'I was +in love, and my love was returned. She was a very young girl, who +perhaps (you may tell me) didn't know her own mind. But I knew +mine, and I had a passion for her.' + +'You had!' exclaimed the Carrier. 'You!' + +'Indeed I had,' returned the other. 'And she returned it. I have +ever since believed she did, and now I am sure she did.' + +'Heaven help me!' said the Carrier. 'This is worse than all.' + +'Constant to her,' said Edward, 'and returning, full of hope, after +many hardships and perils, to redeem my part of our old contract, I +heard, twenty miles away, that she was false to me; that she had +forgotten me; and had bestowed herself upon another and a richer +man. I had no mind to reproach her; but I wished to see her, and +to prove beyond dispute that this was true. I hoped she might have +been forced into it, against her own desire and recollection. It +would be small comfort, but it would be some, I thought, and on I +came. That I might have the truth, the real truth; observing +freely for myself, and judging for myself, without obstruction on +the one hand, or presenting my own influence (if I had any) before +her, on the other; I dressed myself unlike myself - you know how; +and waited on the road - you know where. You had no suspicion of +me; neither had - had she,' pointing to Dot, 'until I whispered in +her ear at that fireside, and she so nearly betrayed me.' + +'But when she knew that Edward was alive, and had come back,' +sobbed Dot, now speaking for herself, as she had burned to do, all +through this narrative; 'and when she knew his purpose, she advised +him by all means to keep his secret close; for his old friend John +Peerybingle was much too open in his nature, and too clumsy in all +artifice - being a clumsy man in general,' said Dot, half laughing +and half crying - 'to keep it for him. And when she - that's me, +John,' sobbed the little woman - 'told him all, and how his +sweetheart had believed him to be dead; and how she had at last +been over-persuaded by her mother into a marriage which the silly, +dear old thing called advantageous; and when she - that's me again, +John - told him they were not yet married (though close upon it), +and that it would be nothing but a sacrifice if it went on, for +there was no love on her side; and when he went nearly mad with joy +to hear it; then she - that's me again - said she would go between +them, as she had often done before in old times, John, and would +sound his sweetheart and be sure that what she - me again, John - +said and thought was right. And it was right, John! And they were +brought together, John! And they were married, John, an hour ago! +And here's the Bride! And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! +And I'm a happy little woman, May, God bless you!' + +She was an irresistible little woman, if that be anything to the +purpose; and never so completely irresistible as in her present +transports. There never were congratulations so endearing and +delicious, as those she lavished on herself and on the Bride. + +Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the honest Carrier had +stood, confounded. Flying, now, towards her, Dot stretched out her +hand to stop him, and retreated as before. + +'No, John, no! Hear all! Don't love me any more, John, till +you've heard every word I have to say. It was wrong to have a +secret from you, John. I'm very sorry I didn't think it any harm, +till I came and sat down by you on the little stool last night. +But when I knew by what was written in your face, that you had seen +me walking in the gallery with Edward, and when I knew what you +thought, I felt how giddy and how wrong it was. But oh, dear John, +how could you, could you, think so!' + +Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peerybingle would have +caught her in his arms. But no; she wouldn't let him. + +'Don't love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! When I +was sad about this intended marriage, dear, it was because I +remembered May and Edward such young lovers; and knew that her +heart was far away from Tackleton. You believe that, now. Don't +you, John?' + +John was going to make another rush at this appeal; but she stopped +him again. + +'No; keep there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes +do, John, and call you clumsy and a dear old goose, and names of +that sort, it's because I love you, John, so well, and take such +pleasure in your ways, and wouldn't see you altered in the least +respect to have you made a King to-morrow.' + +'Hooroar!' said Caleb with unusual vigour. 'My opinion!' + +'And when I speak of people being middle-aged, and steady, John, +and pretend that we are a humdrum couple, going on in a jog-trot +sort of way, it's only because I'm such a silly little thing, John, +that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of Play with Baby, and all +that: and make believe.' + +She saw that he was coming; and stopped him again. But she was +very nearly too late. + +'No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! +What I want most to tell you, I have kept to the last. My dear, +good, generous John, when we were talking the other night about the +Cricket, I had it on my lips to say, that at first I did not love +you quite so dearly as I do now; that when I first came home here, +I was half afraid I mightn't learn to love you every bit as well as +I hoped and prayed I might - being so very young, John! But, dear +John, every day and hour I loved you more and more. And if I could +have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you say +this morning, would have made me. But I can't. All the affection +that I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, as you well +deserve, long, long ago, and I have no more left to give. Now, my +dear husband, take me to your heart again! That's my home, John; +and never, never think of sending me to any other!' + +You never will derive so much delight from seeing a glorious little +woman in the arms of a third party, as you would have felt if you +had seen Dot run into the Carrier's embrace. It was the most +complete, unmitigated, soul-fraught little piece of earnestness +that ever you beheld in all your days. + +You maybe sure the Carrier was in a state of perfect rapture; and +you may be sure Dot was likewise; and you may be sure they all +were, inclusive of Miss Slowboy, who wept copiously for joy, and +wishing to include her young charge in the general interchange of +congratulations, handed round the Baby to everybody in succession, +as if it were something to drink. + +But, now, the sound of wheels was heard again outside the door; and +somebody exclaimed that Gruff and Tackleton was coming back. +Speedily that worthy gentleman appeared, looking warm and +flustered. + +'Why, what the Devil's this, John Peerybingle!' said Tackleton. +'There's some mistake. I appointed Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at +the church, and I'll swear I passed her on the road, on her way +here. Oh! here she is! I beg your pardon, sir; I haven't the +pleasure of knowing you; but if you can do me the favour to spare +this young lady, she has rather a particular engagement this +morning.' + +'But I can't spare her,' returned Edward. 'I couldn't think of +it.' + +'What do you mean, you vagabond?' said Tackleton. + +'I mean, that as I can make allowance for your being vexed,' +returned the other, with a smile, 'I am as deaf to harsh discourse +this morning, as I was to all discourse last night.' + +The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and the start he gave! + +'I am sorry, sir,' said Edward, holding out May's left hand, and +especially the third finger; 'that the young lady can't accompany +you to church; but as she has been there once, this morning, +perhaps you'll excuse her.' + +Tackleton looked hard at the third finger, and took a little piece +of silver-paper, apparently containing a ring, from his waistcoat- +pocket. + +'Miss Slowboy,' said Tackleton. 'Will you have the kindness to +throw that in the fire? Thank'ee.' + +'It was a previous engagement, quite an old engagement, that +prevented my wife from keeping her appointment with you, I assure +you,' said Edward. + +'Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge that I +revealed it to him faithfully; and that I told him, many times, I +never could forget it,' said May, blushing. + +'Oh certainly!' said Tackleton. 'Oh to be sure. Oh it's all +right. It's quite correct. Mrs. Edward Plummer, I infer?' + +'That's the name,' returned the bridegroom. + +'Ah, I shouldn't have known you, sir,' said Tackleton, scrutinising +his face narrowly, and making a low bow. 'I give you joy, sir!' + +'Thank'ee.' + +'Mrs. Peerybingle,' said Tackleton, turning suddenly to where she +stood with her husband; 'I am sorry. You haven't done me a very +great kindness, but, upon my life I am sorry. You are better than +I thought you. John Peerybingle, I am sorry. You understand me; +that's enough. It's quite correct, ladies and gentlemen all, and +perfectly satisfactory. Good morning!' + +With these words he carried it off, and carried himself off too: +merely stopping at the door, to take the flowers and favours from +his horse's head, and to kick that animal once, in the ribs, as a +means of informing him that there was a screw loose in his +arrangements. + +Of course it became a serious duty now, to make such a day of it, +as should mark these events for a high Feast and Festival in the +Peerybingle Calendar for evermore. Accordingly, Dot went to work +to produce such an entertainment, as should reflect undying honour +on the house and on every one concerned; and in a very short space +of time, she was up to her dimpled elbows in flour, and whitening +the Carrier's coat, every time he came near her, by stopping him to +give him a kiss. That good fellow washed the greens, and peeled +the turnips, and broke the plates, and upset iron pots full of cold +water on the fire, and made himself useful in all sorts of ways: +while a couple of professional assistants, hastily called in from +somewhere in the neighbourhood, as on a point of life or death, ran +against each other in all the doorways and round all the corners, +and everybody tumbled over Tilly Slowboy and the Baby, everywhere. +Tilly never came out in such force before. Her ubiquity was the +theme of general admiration. She was a stumbling-block in the +passage at five-and-twenty minutes past two; a man-trap in the +kitchen at half-past two precisely; and a pitfall in the garret at +five-and-twenty minutes to three. The Baby's head was, as it were, +a test and touchstone for every description of matter, - animal, +vegetable, and mineral. Nothing was in use that day that didn't +come, at some time or other, into close acquaintance with it. + +Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go and find out +Mrs. Fielding; and to be dismally penitent to that excellent +gentlewoman; and to bring her back, by force, if needful, to be +happy and forgiving. And when the Expedition first discovered her, +she would listen to no terms at all, but said, an unspeakable +number of times, that ever she should have lived to see the day! +and couldn't be got to say anything else, except, 'Now carry me to +the grave:' which seemed absurd, on account of her not being dead, +or anything at all like it. After a time, she lapsed into a state +of dreadful calmness, and observed, that when that unfortunate +train of circumstances had occurred in the Indigo Trade, she had +foreseen that she would be exposed, during her whole life, to every +species of insult and contumely; and that she was glad to find it +was the case; and begged they wouldn't trouble themselves about +her, - for what was she? oh, dear! a nobody! - but would forget +that such a being lived, and would take their course in life +without her. From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she passed into an +angry one, in which she gave vent to the remarkable expression that +the worm would turn if trodden on; and, after that, she yielded to +a soft regret, and said, if they had only given her their +confidence, what might she not have had it in her power to suggest! +Taking advantage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition +embraced her; and she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her +way to John Peerybingle's in a state of unimpeachable gentility; +with a paper parcel at her side containing a cap of state, almost +as tall, and quite as stiff, as a mitre. + +Then, there were Dot's father and mother to come, in another little +chaise; and they were behind their time; and fears were +entertained; and there was much looking out for them down the road; +and Mrs. Fielding always would look in the wrong and morally +impossible direction; and being apprised thereof, hoped she might +take the liberty of looking where she pleased. At last they came: +a chubby little couple, jogging along in a snug and comfortable +little way that quite belonged to the Dot family; and Dot and her +mother, side by side, were wonderful to see. They were so like +each other. + +Then, Dot's mother had to renew her acquaintance with May's mother; +and May's mother always stood on her gentility; and Dot's mother +never stood on anything but her active little feet. And old Dot - +so to call Dot's father, I forgot it wasn't his right name, but +never mind - took liberties, and shook hands at first sight, and +seemed to think a cap but so much starch and muslin, and didn't +defer himself at all to the Indigo Trade, but said there was no +help for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding's summing up, was a good- +natured kind of man - but coarse, my dear. + +I wouldn't have missed Dot, doing the honours in her wedding-gown, +my benison on her bright face! for any money. No! nor the good +Carrier, so jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. Nor +the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his handsome wife. Nor any one +among them. To have missed the dinner would have been to miss as +jolly and as stout a meal as man need eat; and to have missed the +overflowing cups in which they drank The Wedding-Day, would have +been the greatest miss of all. + +After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling Bowl. As I'm +a living man, hoping to keep so, for a year or two, he sang it +through. + +And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident occurred, just as he +finished the last verse. + +There was a tap at the door; and a man came staggering in, without +saying with your leave, or by your leave, with something heavy on +his head. Setting this down in the middle of the table, +symmetrically in the centre of the nuts and apples, he said: + +'Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and as he hasn't got no use for the +cake himself, p'raps you'll eat it.' + +And with those words, he walked off. + +There was some surprise among the company, as you may imagine. +Mrs. Fielding, being a lady of infinite discernment, suggested that +the cake was poisoned, and related a narrative of a cake, which, +within her knowledge, had turned a seminary for young ladies, blue. +But she was overruled by acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, +with much ceremony and rejoicing. + +I don't think any one had tasted it, when there came another tap at +the door, and the same man appeared again, having under his arm a +vast brown-paper parcel. + +'Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and he's sent a few toys for the +Babby. They ain't ugly.' + +After the delivery of which expressions, he retired again. + +The whole party would have experienced great difficulty in finding +words for their astonishment, even if they had had ample time to +seek them. But they had none at all; for the messenger had +scarcely shut the door behind him, when there came another tap, and +Tackleton himself walked in. + +'Mrs. Peerybingle!' said the Toy-merchant, hat in hand. 'I'm +sorry. I'm more sorry than I was this morning. I have had time to +think of it. John Peerybingle! I'm sour by disposition; but I +can't help being sweetened, more or less, by coming face to face +with such a man as you. Caleb! This unconscious little nurse gave +me a broken hint last night, of which I have found the thread. I +blush to think how easily I might have bound you and your daughter +to me, and what a miserable idiot I was, when I took her for one! +Friends, one and all, my house is very lonely to-night. I have not +so much as a Cricket on my Hearth. I have scared them all away. +Be gracious to me; let me join this happy party!' + +He was at home in five minutes. You never saw such a fellow. What +HAD he been doing with himself all his life, never to have known, +before, his great capacity of being jovial! Or what had the +Fairies been doing with him, to have effected such a change! + +'John! you won't send me home this evening; will you?' whispered +Dot. + +He had been very near it though! + +There wanted but one living creature to make the party complete; +and, in the twinkling of an eye, there he was, very thirsty with +hard running, and engaged in hopeless endeavours to squeeze his +head into a narrow pitcher. He had gone with the cart to its +journey's end, very much disgusted with the absence of his master, +and stupendously rebellious to the Deputy. After lingering about +the stable for some little time, vainly attempting to incite the +old horse to the mutinous act of returning on his own account, he +had walked into the tap-room and laid himself down before the fire. +But suddenly yielding to the conviction that the Deputy was a +humbug, and must be abandoned, he had got up again, turned tail, +and come home. + +There was a dance in the evening. With which general mention of +that recreation, I should have left it alone, if I had not some +reason to suppose that it was quite an original dance, and one of a +most uncommon figure. It was formed in an odd way; in this way. + +Edward, that sailor-fellow - a good free dashing sort of a fellow +he was - had been telling them various marvels concerning parrots, +and mines, and Mexicans, and gold dust, when all at once he took it +in his head to jump up from his seat and propose a dance; for +Bertha's harp was there, and she had such a hand upon it as you +seldom hear. Dot (sly little piece of affectation when she chose) +said her dancing days were over; I think because the Carrier was +smoking his pipe, and she liked sitting by him, best. Mrs. +Fielding had no choice, of course, but to say HER dancing days were +over, after that; and everybody said the same, except May; May was +ready. + +So, May and Edward got up, amid great applause, to dance alone; and +Bertha plays her liveliest tune. + +Well! if you'll believe me, they have not been dancing five +minutes, when suddenly the Carrier flings his pipe away, takes Dot +round the waist, dashes out into the room, and starts off with her, +toe and heel, quite wonderfully. Tackleton no sooner sees this, +than he skims across to Mrs. Fielding, takes her round the waist, +and follows suit. Old Dot no sooner sees this, than up he is, all +alive, whisks off Mrs. Dot in the middle of the dance, and is the +foremost there. Caleb no sooner sees this, than he clutches Tilly +Slowboy by both hands and goes off at score; Miss Slowboy, firm in +the belief that diving hotly in among the other couples, and +effecting any number of concussions with them, is your only +principle of footing it. + +Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp; +and how the kettle hums! + +* * * * * + +But what is this! Even as I listen to them, blithely, and turn +towards Dot, for one last glimpse of a little figure very pleasant +to me, she and the rest have vanished into air, and I am left +alone. A Cricket sings upon the Hearth; a broken child's-toy lies +upon the ground; and nothing else remains. + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Cricket on the Hearth + diff --git a/old/tcoth10.zip b/old/tcoth10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7fc453 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcoth10.zip diff --git a/old/tcoth11.txt b/old/tcoth11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0501ba6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcoth11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4098 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens +(#10 in our series by Charles Dickens) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Cricket on the Hearth + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Release Date: October, 1996 [EBook #678] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 1996] +[Most recently updated: September 8, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH *** + + + + +Transcribed from the Charles Scribner's Sons "Works of Charles +Dickens" edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH + + + + +CHAPTER I--Chirp the First + + + +The kettle began it! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. I +know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to the end of +time that she couldn't say which of them began it; but, I say the +kettle did. I ought to know, I hope! The kettle began it, full +five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock in the corner, +before the Cricket uttered a chirp. + +As if the clock hadn't finished striking, and the convulsive little +Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away right and left with a +scythe in front of a Moorish Palace, hadn't mowed down half an acre +of imaginary grass before the Cricket joined in at all! + +Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one knows that. I +wouldn't set my own opinion against the opinion of Mrs. +Peerybingle, unless I were quite sure, on any account whatever. +Nothing should induce me. But, this is a question of act. And the +fact is, that the kettle began it, at least five minutes before the +Cricket gave any sign of being in existence. Contradict me, and +I'll say ten. + +Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should have proceeded to +do so in my very first word, but for this plain consideration--if I +am to tell a story I must begin at the beginning; and how is it +possible to begin at the beginning, without beginning at the +kettle? + +It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of skill, +you must understand, between the kettle and the Cricket. And this +is what led to it, and how it came about. + +Mrs. Peerybingle, going out into the raw twilight, and clicking +over the wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked innumerable +rough impressions of the first proposition in Euclid all about the +yard--Mrs. Peerybingle filled the kettle at the water-butt. +Presently returning, less the pattens (and a good deal less, for +they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle was but short), she set the +kettle on the fire. In doing which she lost her temper, or mislaid +it for an instant; for, the water being uncomfortably cold, and in +that slippy, slushy, sleety sort of state wherein it seems to +penetrate through every kind of substance, patten rings included-- +had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle's toes, and even splashed her +legs. And when we rather plume ourselves (with reason too) upon +our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat in point of +stockings, we find this, for the moment, hard to bear. + +Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn't +allow itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn't hear of +accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal; it WOULD lean +forward with a drunken air, and dribble, a very Idiot of a kettle, +on the hearth. It was quarrelsome, and hissed and spluttered +morosely at the fire. To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. +Peerybingle's fingers, first of all turned topsy-turvy, and then, +with an ingenious pertinacity deserving of a better cause, dived +sideways in--down to the very bottom of the kettle. And the hull +of the Royal George has never made half the monstrous resistance to +coming out of the water, which the lid of that kettle employed +against Mrs. Peerybingle, before she got it up again. + +It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then; carrying its +handle with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly and +mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, 'I won't boil. +Nothing shall induce me!' + +But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her chubby +little hands against each other, and sat down before the kettle, +laughing. Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and +gleaming on the little Haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, +until one might have thought he stood stock still before the +Moorish Palace, and nothing was in motion but the flame. + +He was on the move, however; and had his spasms, two to the second, +all right and regular. But, his sufferings when the clock was +going to strike, were frightful to behold; and, when a Cuckoo +looked out of a trap-door in the Palace, and gave note six times, +it shook him, each time, like a spectral voice--or like a something +wiry, plucking at his legs. + +It was not until a violent commotion and a whirring noise among the +weights and ropes below him had quite subsided, that this terrified +Haymaker became himself again. Nor was he startled without reason; +for these rattling, bony skeletons of clocks are very disconcerting +in their operation, and I wonder very much how any set of men, but +most of all how Dutchmen, can have had a liking to invent them. +There is a popular belief that Dutchmen love broad cases and much +clothing for their own lower selves; and they might know better +than to leave their clocks so very lank and unprotected, surely. + +Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the +evening. Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and musical, +began to have irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge +in short vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn't +quite made up its mind yet, to be good company. Now it was, that +after two or three such vain attempts to stifle its convivial +sentiments, it threw off all moroseness, all reserve, and burst +into a stream of song so cosy and hilarious, as never maudlin +nightingale yet formed the least idea of. + +So plain too! Bless you, you might have understood it like a book- +-better than some books you and I could name, perhaps. With its +warm breath gushing forth in a light cloud which merrily and +gracefully ascended a few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner +as its own domestic Heaven, it trolled its song with that strong +energy of cheerfulness, that its iron body hummed and stirred upon +the fire; and the lid itself, the recently rebellious lid--such is +the influence of a bright example--performed a sort of jig, and +clattered like a deaf and dumb young cymbal that had never known +the use of its twin brother. + +That this song of the kettle's was a song of invitation and welcome +to somebody out of doors: to somebody at that moment coming on, +towards the snug small home and the crisp fire: there is no doubt +whatever. Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as she sat musing +before the hearth. It's a dark night, sang the kettle, and the +rotten leaves are lying by the way; and, above, all is mist and +darkness, and, below, all is mire and clay; and there's only one +relief in all the sad and murky air; and I don't know that it is +one, for it's nothing but a glare; of deep and angry crimson, where +the sun and wind together; set a brand upon the clouds for being +guilty of such weather; and the widest open country is a long dull +streak of black; and there's hoar-frost on the finger-post, and +thaw upon the track; and the ice it isn't water, and the water +isn't free; and you couldn't say that anything is what it ought to +be; but he's coming, coming, coming! - + +And here, if you like, the Cricket DID chime in! with a Chirrup, +Chirrup, Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice +so astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared with the +kettle; (size! you couldn't see it!) that if it had then and there +burst itself like an overcharged gun, if it had fallen a victim on +the spot, and chirruped its little body into fifty pieces, it would +have seemed a natural and inevitable consequence, for which it had +expressly laboured. + +The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It persevered +with undiminished ardour; but the Cricket took first fiddle and +kept it. Good Heaven, how it chirped! Its shrill, sharp, piercing +voice resounded through the house, and seemed to twinkle in the +outer darkness like a star. There was an indescribable little +trill and tremble in it, at its loudest, which suggested its being +carried off its legs, and made to leap again, by its own intense +enthusiasm. Yet they went very well together, the Cricket and the +kettle. The burden of the song was still the same; and louder, +louder, louder still, they sang it in their emulation. + +The fair little listener--for fair she was, and young: though +something of what is called the dumpling shape; but I don't myself +object to that--lighted a candle, glanced at the Haymaker on the +top of the clock, who was getting in a pretty average crop of +minutes; and looked out of the window, where she saw nothing, owing +to the darkness, but her own face imaged in the glass. And my +opinion is (and so would yours have been), that she might have +looked a long way, and seen nothing half so agreeable. When she +came back, and sat down in her former seat, the Cricket and the +kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect fury of +competition. The kettle's weak side clearly being, that he didn't +know when he was beat. + +There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, +chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum--m--m! Kettle making +play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp! +Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum--m--m! Kettle sticking to +him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp! +Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum--m--m! Kettle slow and +steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket going in to finish him. +Hum, hum, hum--m--m! Kettle not to be finished. Until at last +they got so jumbled together, in the hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, +of the match, that whether the kettle chirped and the Cricket +hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the kettle hummed, or they both +chirped and both hummed, it would have taken a clearer head than +yours or mine to have decided with anything like certainty. But, +of this, there is no doubt: that, the kettle and the Cricket, at +one and the same moment, and by some power of amalgamation best +known to themselves, sent, each, his fireside song of comfort +streaming into a ray of the candle that shone out through the +window, and a long way down the lane. And this light, bursting on +a certain person who, on the instant, approached towards it through +the gloom, expressed the whole thing to him, literally in a +twinkling, and cried, 'Welcome home, old fellow! Welcome home, my +boy!' + +This end attained, the kettle, being dead beat, boiled over, and +was taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then went running to the +door, where, what with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, +the voice of a man, the tearing in and out of an excited dog, and +the surprising and mysterious appearance of a baby, there was soon +the very What's-his-name to pay. + +Where the baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle got hold of it in +that flash of time, _I_ don't know. But a live baby there was, in +Mrs. Peerybingle's arms; and a pretty tolerable amount of pride she +seemed to have in it, when she was drawn gently to the fire, by a +sturdy figure of a man, much taller and much older than herself, +who had to stoop a long way down, to kiss her. But she was worth +the trouble. Six foot six, with the lumbago, might have done it. + +'Oh goodness, John!' said Mrs. P. 'What a state you are in with +the weather!' + +He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The thick mist hung +in clots upon his eyelashes like candied thaw; and between the fog +and fire together, there were rainbows in his very whiskers. + +'Why, you see, Dot,' John made answer, slowly, as he unrolled a +shawl from about his throat; and warmed his hands; 'it--it an't +exactly summer weather. So, no wonder.' + +'I wish you wouldn't call me Dot, John. I don't like it,' said +Mrs. Peerybingle: pouting in a way that clearly showed she DID +like it, very much. + +'Why what else are you?' returned John, looking down upon her with +a smile, and giving her waist as light a squeeze as his huge hand +and arm could give. 'A dot and'--here he glanced at the baby--'a +dot and carry--I won't say it, for fear I should spoil it; but I +was very near a joke. I don't know as ever I was nearer.' + +He was often near to something or other very clever, by his own +account: this lumbering, slow, honest John; this John so heavy, +but so light of spirit; so rough upon the surface, but so gentle at +the core; so dull without, so quick within; so stolid, but so good! +Oh Mother Nature, give thy children the true poetry of heart that +hid itself in this poor Carrier's breast--he was but a Carrier by +the way--and we can bear to have them talking prose, and leading +lives of prose; and bear to bless thee for their company! + +It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure, and her baby in +her arms: a very doll of a baby: glancing with a coquettish +thoughtfulness at the fire, and inclining her delicate little head +just enough on one side to let it rest in an odd, half-natural, +half-affected, wholly nestling and agreeable manner, on the great +rugged figure of the Carrier. It was pleasant to see him, with his +tender awkwardness, endeavouring to adapt his rude support to her +slight need, and make his burly middle-age a leaning-staff not +inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was pleasant to observe +how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the background for the baby, took +special cognizance (though in her earliest teens) of this grouping; +and stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her head thrust +forward, taking it in as if it were air. Nor was it less agreeable +to observe how John the Carrier, reference being made by Dot to the +aforesaid baby, checked his hand when on the point of touching the +infant, as if he thought he might crack it; and bending down, +surveyed it from a safe distance, with a kind of puzzled pride, +such as an amiable mastiff might be supposed to show, if he found +himself, one day, the father of a young canary. + +'An't he beautiful, John? Don't he look precious in his sleep?' + +'Very precious,' said John. 'Very much so. He generally IS +asleep, an't he?' + +'Lor, John! Good gracious no!' + +'Oh,' said John, pondering. 'I thought his eyes was generally +shut. Halloa!' + +'Goodness, John, how you startle one!' + +'It an't right for him to turn 'em up in that way!' said the +astonished Carrier, 'is it? See how he's winking with both of 'em +at once! And look at his mouth! Why he's gasping like a gold and +silver fish!' + +'You don't deserve to be a father, you don't,' said Dot, with all +the dignity of an experienced matron. 'But how should you know +what little complaints children are troubled with, John! You +wouldn't so much as know their names, you stupid fellow.' And when +she had turned the baby over on her left arm, and had slapped its +back as a restorative, she pinched her husband's ear, laughing. + +'No,' said John, pulling off his outer coat. 'It's very true, Dot. +I don't know much about it. I only know that I've been fighting +pretty stiffly with the wind to-night. It's been blowing north- +east, straight into the cart, the whole way home.' + +'Poor old man, so it has!' cried Mrs. Peerybingle, instantly +becoming very active. 'Here! Take the precious darling, Tilly, +while I make myself of some use. Bless it, I could smother it with +kissing it, I could! Hie then, good dog! Hie, Boxer, boy! Only +let me make the tea first, John; and then I'll help you with the +parcels, like a busy bee. "How doth the little"--and all the rest +of it, you know, John. Did you ever learn "how doth the little," +when you went to school, John?' + +'Not to quite know it,' John returned. 'I was very near it once. +But I should only have spoilt it, I dare say.' + +'Ha ha,' laughed Dot. She had the blithest little laugh you ever +heard. 'What a dear old darling of a dunce you are, John, to be +sure!' + +Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see that the +boy with the lantern, which had been dancing to and fro before the +door and window, like a Will of the Wisp, took due care of the +horse; who was fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you +his measure, and so old that his birthday was lost in the mists of +antiquity. Boxer, feeling that his attentions were due to the +family in general, and must be impartially distributed, dashed in +and out with bewildering inconstancy; now, describing a circle of +short barks round the horse, where he was being rubbed down at the +stable-door; now feigning to make savage rushes at his mistress, +and facetiously bringing himself to sudden stops; now, eliciting a +shriek from Tilly Slowboy, in the low nursing-chair near the fire, +by the unexpected application of his moist nose to her countenance; +now, exhibiting an obtrusive interest in the baby; now, going round +and round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had established +himself for the night; now, getting up again, and taking that +nothing of a fag-end of a tail of his, out into the weather, as if +he had just remembered an appointment, and was off, at a round +trot, to keep it. + +'There! There's the teapot, ready on the hob!' said Dot; as +briskly busy as a child at play at keeping house. 'And there's the +old knuckle of ham; and there's the butter; and there's the crusty +loaf, and all! Here's the clothes-basket for the small parcels, +John, if you've got any there--where are you, John?' + +'Don't let the dear child fall under the grate, Tilly, whatever you +do!' + +It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her rejecting the +caution with some vivacity, that she had a rare and surprising +talent for getting this baby into difficulties and had several +times imperilled its short life, in a quiet way peculiarly her own. +She was of a spare and straight shape, this young lady, insomuch +that her garments appeared to be in constant danger of sliding off +those sharp pegs, her shoulders, on which they were loosely hung. +Her costume was remarkable for the partial development, on all +possible occasions, of some flannel vestment of a singular +structure; also for affording glimpses, in the region of the back, +of a corset, or pair of stays, in colour a dead-green. Being +always in a state of gaping admiration at everything, and absorbed, +besides, in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress's +perfections and the baby's, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of +judgment, may be said to have done equal honour to her head and to +her heart; and though these did less honour to the baby's head, +which they were the occasional means of bringing into contact with +deal doors, dressers, stair-rails, bed-posts, and other foreign +substances, still they were the honest results of Tilly Slowboy's +constant astonishment at finding herself so kindly treated, and +installed in such a comfortable home. For, the maternal and +paternal Slowboy were alike unknown to Fame, and Tilly had been +bred by public charity, a foundling; which word, though only +differing from fondling by one vowel's length, is very different in +meaning, and expresses quite another thing. + +To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with her husband, +tugging at the clothes-basket, and making the most strenuous +exertions to do nothing at all (for he carried it), would have +amused you almost as much as it amused him. It may have +entertained the Cricket too, for anything I know; but, certainly, +it now began to chirp again, vehemently. + +'Heyday!' said John, in his slow way. 'It's merrier than ever, to- +night, I think.' + +'And it's sure to bring us good fortune, John! It always has done +so. To have a Cricket on the Hearth, is the luckiest thing in all +the world!' + +John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the thought into +his head, that she was his Cricket in chief, and he quite agreed +with her. But, it was probably one of his narrow escapes, for he +said nothing. + +'The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, was on that +night when you brought me home--when you brought me to my new home +here; its little mistress. Nearly a year ago. You recollect, +John?' + +O yes. John remembered. I should think so! + +'Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so full of promise +and encouragement. It seemed to say, you would be kind and gentle +with me, and would not expect (I had a fear of that, John, then) to +find an old head on the shoulders of your foolish little wife.' + +John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and then the head, +as though he would have said No, no; he had had no such +expectation; he had been quite content to take them as they were. +And really he had reason. They were very comely. + +'It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say so; for you have +ever been, I am sure, the best, the most considerate, the most +affectionate of husbands to me. This has been a happy home, John; +and I love the Cricket for its sake!' + +'Why so do I then,' said the Carrier. 'So do I, Dot.' + +'I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the many +thoughts its harmless music has given me. Sometimes, in the +twilight, when I have felt a little solitary and down-hearted, +John--before baby was here to keep me company and make the house +gay--when I have thought how lonely you would be if I should die; +how lonely I should be if I could know that you had lost me, dear; +its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp upon the hearth, has seemed to tell me of +another little voice, so sweet, so very dear to me, before whose +coming sound my trouble vanished like a dream. And when I used to +fear--I did fear once, John, I was very young you know--that ours +might prove to be an ill-assorted marriage, I being such a child, +and you more like my guardian than my husband; and that you might +not, however hard you tried, be able to learn to love me, as you +hoped and prayed you might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp has cheered me +up again, and filled me with new trust and confidence. I was +thinking of these things to-night, dear, when I sat expecting you; +and I love the Cricket for their sake!' + +'And so do I,' repeated John. 'But, Dot? _I_ hope and pray that I +might learn to love you? How you talk! I had learnt that, long +before I brought you here, to be the Cricket's little mistress, +Dot!' + +She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked up at him +with an agitated face, as if she would have told him something. +Next moment she was down upon her knees before the basket, speaking +in a sprightly voice, and busy with the parcels. + +'There are not many of them to-night, John, but I saw some goods +behind the cart, just now; and though they give more trouble, +perhaps, still they pay as well; so we have no reason to grumble, +have we? Besides, you have been delivering, I dare say, as you +came along?' + +'Oh yes,' John said. 'A good many.' + +'Why what's this round box? Heart alive, John, it's a wedding- +cake!' + +'Leave a woman alone to find out that,' said John, admiringly. +'Now a man would never have thought of it. Whereas, it's my belief +that if you was to pack a wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, or a +turn-up bedstead, or a pickled salmon keg, or any unlikely thing, a +woman would be sure to find it out directly. Yes; I called for it +at the pastry-cook's.' + +'And it weighs I don't know what--whole hundredweights!' cried Dot, +making a great demonstration of trying to lift it. + +'Whose is it, John? Where is it going?' + +'Read the writing on the other side,' said John. + +'Why, John! My Goodness, John!' + +'Ah! who'd have thought it!' John returned. + +'You never mean to say,' pursued Dot, sitting on the floor and +shaking her head at him, 'that it's Gruff and Tackleton the +toymaker!' + +John nodded. + +Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. Not in assent- +-in dumb and pitying amazement; screwing up her lips the while with +all their little force (they were never made for screwing up; I am +clear of that), and looking the good Carrier through and through, +in her abstraction. Miss Slowboy, in the mean time, who had a +mechanical power of reproducing scraps of current conversation for +the delectation of the baby, with all the sense struck out of them, +and all the nouns changed into the plural number, inquired aloud of +that young creature, Was it Gruffs and Tackletons the toymakers +then, and Would it call at Pastry-cooks for wedding-cakes, and Did +its mothers know the boxes when its fathers brought them homes; and +so on. + +'And that is really to come about!' said Dot. 'Why, she and I were +girls at school together, John.' + +He might have been thinking of her, or nearly thinking of her, +perhaps, as she was in that same school time. He looked upon her +with a thoughtful pleasure, but he made no answer. + +'And he's as old! As unlike her!--Why, how many years older than +you, is Gruff and Tackleton, John?' + +'How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at one sitting, +than Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, I wonder!' replied +John, good-humouredly, as he drew a chair to the round table, and +began at the cold ham. 'As to eating, I eat but little; but that +little I enjoy, Dot.' + +Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of his innocent +delusions (for his appetite was always obstinate, and flatly +contradicted him), awoke no smile in the face of his little wife, +who stood among the parcels, pushing the cake-box slowly from her +with her foot, and never once looked, though her eyes were cast +down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally was so mindful of. +Absorbed in thought, she stood there, heedless alike of the tea and +John (although he called to her, and rapped the table with his +knife to startle her), until he rose and touched her on the arm; +when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to her place +behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence. But, not as she +had laughed before. The manner and the music were quite changed. + +The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not so +cheerful as it had been. Nothing like it. + +'So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?' she said, breaking +a long silence, which the honest Carrier had devoted to the +practical illustration of one part of his favourite sentiment-- +certainly enjoying what he ate, if it couldn't be admitted that he +ate but little. 'So, these are all the parcels; are they, John?' + +'That's all,' said John. 'Why--no--I--' laying down his knife and +fork, and taking a long breath. 'I declare--I've clean forgotten +the old gentleman!' + +'The old gentleman?' + +'In the cart,' said John. 'He was asleep, among the straw, the +last time I saw him. I've very nearly remembered him, twice, since +I came in; but he went out of my head again. Holloa! Yahip there! +Rouse up! That's my hearty!' + +John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had +hurried with the candle in his hand. + +Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference to The Old +Gentleman, and connecting in her mystified imagination certain +associations of a religious nature with the phrase, was so +disturbed, that hastily rising from the low chair by the fire to +seek protection near the skirts of her mistress, and coming into +contact as she crossed the doorway with an ancient Stranger, she +instinctively made a charge or butt at him with the only offensive +instrument within her reach. This instrument happening to be the +baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, which the sagacity of Boxer +rather tended to increase; for, that good dog, more thoughtful than +its master, had, it seemed, been watching the old gentleman in his +sleep, lest he should walk off with a few young poplar trees that +were tied up behind the cart; and he still attended on him very +closely, worrying his gaiters in fact, and making dead sets at the +buttons. + +'You're such an undeniable good sleeper, sir,' said John, when +tranquillity was restored; in the mean time the old gentleman had +stood, bareheaded and motionless, in the centre of the room; 'that +I have half a mind to ask you where the other six are--only that +would be a joke, and I know I should spoil it. Very near though,' +murmured the Carrier, with a chuckle; 'very near!' + +The Stranger, who had long white hair, good features, singularly +bold and well defined for an old man, and dark, bright, penetrating +eyes, looked round with a smile, and saluted the Carrier's wife by +gravely inclining his head. + +His garb was very quaint and odd--a long, long way behind the time. +Its hue was brown, all over. In his hand he held a great brown +club or walking-stick; and striking this upon the floor, it fell +asunder, and became a chair. On which he sat down, quite +composedly. + +'There!' said the Carrier, turning to his wife. 'That's the way I +found him, sitting by the roadside! Upright as a milestone. And +almost as deaf.' + +'Sitting in the open air, John!' + +'In the open air,' replied the Carrier, 'just at dusk. "Carriage +Paid," he said; and gave me eighteenpence. Then he got in. And +there he is.' + +'He's going, John, I think!' + +Not at all. He was only going to speak. + +'If you please, I was to be left till called for,' said the +Stranger, mildly. 'Don't mind me.' + +With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large +pockets, and a book from another, and leisurely began to read. +Making no more of Boxer than if he had been a house lamb! + +The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. The +Stranger raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the +former, said, + +'Your daughter, my good friend?' + +'Wife,' returned John. + +'Niece?' said the Stranger. + +'Wife,' roared John. + +'Indeed?' observed the Stranger. 'Surely? Very young!' + +He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. But, before he +could have read two lines, he again interrupted himself to say: + +'Baby, yours?' + +John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an answer in the +affirmative, delivered through a speaking trumpet. + +'Girl?' + +'Bo-o-oy!' roared John. + +'Also very young, eh?' + +Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. 'Two months and three da- +ays! Vaccinated just six weeks ago-o! Took very fine-ly! +Considered, by the doctor, a remarkably beautiful chi-ild! Equal +to the general run of children at five months o-old! Takes notice, +in a way quite wonderful! May seem impossible to you, but feels +his legs al-ready!' + +Here the breathless little mother, who had been shrieking these +short sentences into the old man's ear, until her pretty face was +crimsoned, held up the Baby before him as a stubborn and triumphant +fact; while Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious cry of 'Ketcher, +Ketcher'--which sounded like some unknown words, adapted to a +popular Sneeze--performed some cow-like gambols round that all +unconscious Innocent. + +'Hark! He's called for, sure enough,' said John. 'There's +somebody at the door. Open it, Tilly.' + +Before she could reach it, however, it was opened from without; +being a primitive sort of door, with a latch, that any one could +lift if he chose--and a good many people did choose, for all kinds +of neighbours liked to have a cheerful word or two with the +Carrier, though he was no great talker himself. Being opened, it +gave admission to a little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, +who seemed to have made himself a great-coat from the sack-cloth +covering of some old box; for, when he turned to shut the door, and +keep the weather out, he disclosed upon the back of that garment, +the inscription G & T in large black capitals. Also the word GLASS +in bold characters. + +'Good evening, John!' said the little man. 'Good evening, Mum. +Good evening, Tilly. Good evening, Unbeknown! How's Baby, Mum? +Boxer's pretty well I hope?' + +'All thriving, Caleb,' replied Dot. 'I am sure you need only look +at the dear child, for one, to know that.' + +'And I'm sure I need only look at you for another,' said Caleb. + +He didn't look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful eye +which seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time +and place, no matter what he said; a description which will equally +apply to his voice. + +'Or at John for another,' said Caleb. 'Or at Tilly, as far as that +goes. Or certainly at Boxer.' + +'Busy just now, Caleb?' asked the Carrier. + +'Why, pretty well, John,' he returned, with the distraught air of a +man who was casting about for the Philosopher's stone, at least. +'Pretty much so. There's rather a run on Noah's Arks at present. +I could have wished to improve upon the Family, but I don't see how +it's to be done at the price. It would be a satisfaction to one's +mind, to make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was +Wives. Flies an't on that scale neither, as compared with +elephants you know! Ah! well! Have you got anything in the parcel +line for me, John?' + +The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken +off; and brought out, carefully preserved in moss and paper, a tiny +flower-pot. + +'There it is!' he said, adjusting it with great care. 'Not so much +as a leaf damaged. Full of buds!' + +Caleb's dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him. + +'Dear, Caleb,' said the Carrier. 'Very dear at this season.' + +'Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost,' +returned the little man. 'Anything else, John?' + +'A small box,' replied the Carrier. 'Here you are!' + +'"For Caleb Plummer,"' said the little man, spelling out the +direction. '"With Cash." With Cash, John? I don't think it's for +me.' + +'With Care,' returned the Carrier, looking over his shoulder. +'Where do you make out cash?' + +'Oh! To be sure!' said Caleb. 'It's all right. With care! Yes, +yes; that's mine. It might have been with cash, indeed, if my dear +Boy in the Golden South Americas had lived, John. You loved him +like a son; didn't you? You needn't say you did. _I_ know, of +course. "Caleb Plummer. With care." Yes, yes, it's all right. +It's a box of dolls' eyes for my daughter's work. I wish it was +her own sight in a box, John.' + +'I wish it was, or could be!' cried the Carrier. + +'Thank'ee,' said the little man. 'You speak very hearty. To think +that she should never see the Dolls--and them a-staring at her, so +bold, all day long! That's where it cuts. What's the damage, +John?' + +'I'll damage you,' said John, 'if you inquire. Dot! Very near?' + +'Well! it's like you to say so,' observed the little man. 'It's +your kind way. Let me see. I think that's all.' + +'I think not,' said the Carrier. 'Try again.' + +'Something for our Governor, eh?' said Caleb, after pondering a +little while. 'To be sure. That's what I came for; but my head's +so running on them Arks and things! He hasn't been here, has he?' + +'Not he,' returned the Carrier. 'He's too busy, courting.' + +'He's coming round though,' said Caleb; 'for he told me to keep on +the near side of the road going home, and it was ten to one he'd +take me up. I had better go, by the bye.--You couldn't have the +goodness to let me pinch Boxer's tail, Mum, for half a moment, +could you?' + +'Why, Caleb! what a question!' + +'Oh never mind, Mum,' said the little man. 'He mightn't like it +perhaps. There's a small order just come in, for barking dogs; and +I should wish to go as close to Natur' as I could, for sixpence. +That's all. Never mind, Mum.' + +It happened opportunely, that Boxer, without receiving the proposed +stimulus, began to bark with great zeal. But, as this implied the +approach of some new visitor, Caleb, postponing his study from the +life to a more convenient season, shouldered the round box, and +took a hurried leave. He might have spared himself the trouble, +for he met the visitor upon the threshold. + +'Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a bit. I'll take you home. +John Peerybingle, my service to you. More of my service to your +pretty wife. Handsomer every day! Better too, if possible! And +younger,' mused the speaker, in a low voice; 'that's the Devil of +it!' + +'I should be astonished at your paying compliments, Mr. Tackleton,' +said Dot, not with the best grace in the world; 'but for your +condition.' + +'You know all about it then?' + +'I have got myself to believe it, somehow,' said Dot. + +'After a hard struggle, I suppose?' + +'Very.' + +Tackleton the Toy-merchant, pretty generally known as Gruff and +Tackleton--for that was the firm, though Gruff had been bought out +long ago; only leaving his name, and as some said his nature, +according to its Dictionary meaning, in the business--Tackleton the +Toy-merchant, was a man whose vocation had been quite misunderstood +by his Parents and Guardians. If they had made him a Money Lender, +or a sharp Attorney, or a Sheriff's Officer, or a Broker, he might +have sown his discontented oats in his youth, and, after having had +the full run of himself in ill-natured transactions, might have +turned out amiable, at last, for the sake of a little freshness and +novelty. But, cramped and chafing in the peaceable pursuit of toy- +making, he was a domestic Ogre, who had been living on children all +his life, and was their implacable enemy. He despised all toys; +wouldn't have bought one for the world; delighted, in his malice, +to insinuate grim expressions into the faces of brown-paper farmers +who drove pigs to market, bellmen who advertised lost lawyers' +consciences, movable old ladies who darned stockings or carved +pies; and other like samples of his stock in trade. In appalling +masks; hideous, hairy, red-eyed Jacks in Boxes; Vampire Kites; +demoniacal Tumblers who wouldn't lie down, and were perpetually +flying forward, to stare infants out of countenance; his soul +perfectly revelled. They were his only relief, and safety-valve. +He was great in such inventions. Anything suggestive of a Pony- +nightmare was delicious to him. He had even lost money (and he +took to that toy very kindly) by getting up Goblin slides for +magic-lanterns, whereon the Powers of Darkness were depicted as a +sort of supernatural shell-fish, with human faces. In intensifying +the portraiture of Giants, he had sunk quite a little capital; and, +though no painter himself, he could indicate, for the instruction +of his artists, with a piece of chalk, a certain furtive leer for +the countenances of those monsters, which was safe to destroy the +peace of mind of any young gentleman between the ages of six and +eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer Vacation. + +What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other things. You +may easily suppose, therefore, that within the great green cape, +which reached down to the calves of his legs, there was buttoned up +to the chin an uncommonly pleasant fellow; and that he was about as +choice a spirit, and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a +pair of bull-headed-looking boots with mahogany-coloured tops. + +Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be married. In +spite of all this, he was going to be married. And to a young wife +too, a beautiful young wife. + +He didn't look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in the Carrier's +kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a screw in his body, and +his hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands tucked +down into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic ill- +conditioned self peering out of one little corner of one little +eye, like the concentrated essence of any number of ravens. But, a +Bridegroom he designed to be. + +'In three days' time. Next Thursday. The last day of the first +month in the year. That's my wedding-day,' said Tackleton. + +Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one eye +nearly shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the +expressive eye? I don't think I did. + +'That's my wedding-day!' said Tackleton, rattling his money. + +'Why, it's our wedding-day too,' exclaimed the Carrier. + +'Ha ha!' laughed Tackleton. 'Odd! You're just such another +couple. Just!' + +The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion is not to be +described. What next? His imagination would compass the +possibility of just such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad. + +'I say! A word with you,' murmured Tackleton, nudging the Carrier +with his elbow, and taking him a little apart. 'You'll come to the +wedding? We're in the same boat, you know.' + +'How in the same boat?' inquired the Carrier. + +'A little disparity, you know,' said Tackleton, with another nudge. +'Come and spend an evening with us, beforehand.' + +'Why?' demanded John, astonished at this pressing hospitality. + +'Why?' returned the other. 'That's a new way of receiving an +invitation. Why, for pleasure--sociability, you know, and all +that!' + +'I thought you were never sociable,' said John, in his plain way. + +'Tchah! It's of no use to be anything but free with you, I see,' +said Tackleton. 'Why, then, the truth is you have a--what tea- +drinking people call a sort of a comfortable appearance together, +you and your wife. We know better, you know, but--' + +'No, we don't know better,' interposed John. 'What are you talking +about?' + +'Well! We DON'T know better, then,' said Tackleton. 'We'll agree +that we don't. As you like; what does it matter? I was going to +say, as you have that sort of appearance, your company will produce +a favourable effect on Mrs. Tackleton that will be. And, though I +don't think your good lady's very friendly to me, in this matter, +still she can't help herself from falling into my views, for +there's a compactness and cosiness of appearance about her that +always tells, even in an indifferent case. You'll say you'll +come?' + +'We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as far as that goes) at +home,' said John. 'We have made the promise to ourselves these six +months. We think, you see, that home--' + +'Bah! what's home?' cried Tackleton. 'Four walls and a ceiling! +(why don't you kill that Cricket? _I_ would! I always do. I hate +their noise.) There are four walls and a ceiling at my house. +Come to me!' + +'You kill your Crickets, eh?' said John. + +'Scrunch 'em, sir,' returned the other, setting his heel heavily on +the floor. 'You'll say you'll come? it's as much your interest as +mine, you know, that the women should persuade each other that +they're quiet and contented, and couldn't be better off. I know +their way. Whatever one woman says, another woman is determined to +clinch, always. There's that spirit of emulation among 'em, sir, +that if your wife says to my wife, "I'm the happiest woman in the +world, and mine's the best husband in the world, and I dote on +him," my wife will say the same to yours, or more, and half believe +it.' + +'Do you mean to say she don't, then?' asked the Carrier. + +'Don't!' cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp laugh. 'Don't what?' + +The Carrier had some faint idea of adding, 'dote upon you.' But, +happening to meet the half-closed eye, as it twinkled upon him over +the turned-up collar of the cape, which was within an ace of poking +it out, he felt it such an unlikely part and parcel of anything to +be doted on, that he substituted, 'that she don't believe it?' + +'Ah you dog! You're joking,' said Tackleton. + +But the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of his +meaning, eyed him in such a serious manner, that he was obliged to +be a little more explanatory. + +'I have the humour,' said Tackleton: holding up the fingers of his +left hand, and tapping the forefinger, to imply 'there I am, +Tackleton to wit:' 'I have the humour, sir, to marry a young wife, +and a pretty wife:' here he rapped his little finger, to express +the Bride; not sparingly, but sharply; with a sense of power. 'I'm +able to gratify that humour and I do. It's my whim. But--now look +there!' + +He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, before the fire; +leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, and watching the bright +blaze. The Carrier looked at her, and then at him, and then at +her, and then at him again. + +'She honours and obeys, no doubt, you know,' said Tackleton; 'and +that, as I am not a man of sentiment, is quite enough for ME. But +do you think there's anything more in it?' + +'I think,' observed the Carrier, 'that I should chuck any man out +of window, who said there wasn't.' + +'Exactly so,' returned the other with an unusual alacrity of +assent. 'To be sure! Doubtless you would. Of course. I'm +certain of it. Good night. Pleasant dreams!' + +The Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable and uncertain, in +spite of himself. He couldn't help showing it, in his manner. + +'Good night, my dear friend!' said Tackleton, compassionately. +'I'm off. We're exactly alike, in reality, I see. You won't give +us to-morrow evening? Well! Next day you go out visiting, I know. +I'll meet you there, and bring my wife that is to be. It'll do her +good. You're agreeable? Thank'ee. What's that!' + +It was a loud cry from the Carrier's wife: a loud, sharp, sudden +cry, that made the room ring, like a glass vessel. She had risen +from her seat, and stood like one transfixed by terror and +surprise. The Stranger had advanced towards the fire to warm +himself, and stood within a short stride of her chair. But quite +still. + +'Dot!' cried the Carrier. 'Mary! Darling! What's the matter?' + +They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been dozing on +the cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his suspended +presence of mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head, but +immediately apologised. + +'Mary!' exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in his arms. 'Are +you ill! What is it? Tell me, dear!' + +She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling into a +wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp upon the +ground, she covered her face with her apron, and wept bitterly. +And then she laughed again, and then she cried again, and then she +said how cold it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire, +where she sat down as before. The old man standing, as before, +quite still. + +'I'm better, John,' she said. 'I'm quite well now--I -' + +'John!' But John was on the other side of her. Why turn her face +towards the strange old gentleman, as if addressing him! Was her +brain wandering? + +'Only a fancy, John dear--a kind of shock--a something coming +suddenly before my eyes--I don't know what it was. It's quite +gone, quite gone.' + +'I'm glad it's gone,' muttered Tackleton, turning the expressive +eye all round the room. 'I wonder where it's gone, and what it +was. Humph! Caleb, come here! Who's that with the grey hair?' + +'I don't know, sir,' returned Caleb in a whisper. 'Never see him +before, in all my life. A beautiful figure for a nut-cracker; +quite a new model. With a screw-jaw opening down into his +waistcoat, he'd be lovely.' + +'Not ugly enough,' said Tackleton. + +'Or for a firebox, either,' observed Caleb, in deep contemplation, +'what a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn him +heels up'ards for the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman's +mantel-shelf, just as he stands!' + +'Not half ugly enough,' said Tackleton. 'Nothing in him at all! +Come! Bring that box! All right now, I hope?' + +'Quite gone!' said the little woman, waving him hurriedly away. +'Good night!' + +'Good night,' said Tackleton. 'Good night, John Peerybingle! Take +care how you carry that box, Caleb. Let it fall, and I'll murder +you! Dark as pitch, and weather worse than ever, eh? Good night!' + +So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the +door; followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head. + +The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little wife, and so +busily engaged in soothing and tending her, that he had scarcely +been conscious of the Stranger's presence, until now, when he again +stood there, their only guest. + +'He don't belong to them, you see,' said John. 'I must give him a +hint to go.' + +'I beg your pardon, friend,' said the old gentleman, advancing to +him; 'the more so, as I fear your wife has not been well; but the +Attendant whom my infirmity,' he touched his ears and shook his +head, 'renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, I fear +there must be some mistake. The bad night which made the shelter +of your comfortable cart (may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, +is still as bad as ever. Would you, in your kindness, suffer me to +rent a bed here?' + +'Yes, yes,' cried Dot. 'Yes! Certainly!' + +'Oh!' said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this consent. + +'Well! I don't object; but, still I'm not quite sure that--' + +'Hush!' she interrupted. 'Dear John!' + +'Why, he's stone deaf,' urged John. + +'I know he is, but--Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! certainly! I'll +make him up a bed, directly, John.' + +As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the +agitation of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier stood +looking after her, quite confounded. + +'Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!' cried Miss Slowboy to the +Baby; 'and did its hair grow brown and curly, when its caps was +lifted off, and frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the +fires!' + +With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, which is +often incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the Carrier as +he walked slowly to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even +these absurd words, many times. So many times that he got them by +heart, and was still conning them over and over, like a lesson, +when Tilly, after administering as much friction to the little bald +head with her hand as she thought wholesome (according to the +practice of nurses), had once more tied the Baby's cap on. + +'And frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires. What +frightened Dot, I wonder!' mused the Carrier, pacing to and fro. + +He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the Toy-merchant, +and yet they filled him with a vague, indefinite uneasiness. For, +Tackleton was quick and sly; and he had that painful sense, +himself, of being of slow perception, that a broken hint was always +worrying to him. He certainly had no intention in his mind of +linking anything that Tackleton had said, with the unusual conduct +of his wife, but the two subjects of reflection came into his mind +together, and he could not keep them asunder. + +The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, declining all +refreshment but a cup of tea, retired. Then, Dot--quite well +again, she said, quite well again--arranged the great chair in the +chimney-corner for her husband; filled his pipe and gave it him; +and took her usual little stool beside him on the hearth. + +She always WOULD sit on that little stool. I think she must have +had a kind of notion that it was a coaxing, wheedling little stool. + +She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I should say, +in the four quarters of the globe. To see her put that chubby +little finger in the bowl, and then blow down the pipe to clear the +tube, and, when she had done so, affect to think that there was +really something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, and hold it +to her eye like a telescope, with a most provoking twist in her +capital little face, as she looked down it, was quite a brilliant +thing. As to the tobacco, she was perfect mistress of the subject; +and her lighting of the pipe, with a wisp of paper, when the +Carrier had it in his mouth--going so very near his nose, and yet +not scorching it--was Art, high Art. + +And the Cricket and the kettle, turning up again, acknowledged it! +The bright fire, blazing up again, acknowledged it! The little +Mower on the clock, in his unheeded work, acknowledged it! The +Carrier, in his smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged +it, the readiest of all. + +And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed at his old pipe, and as +the Dutch clock ticked, and as the red fire gleamed, and as the +Cricket chirped; that Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such the +Cricket was) came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and summoned +many forms of Home about him. Dots of all ages, and all sizes, +filled the chamber. Dots who were merry children, running on +before him gathering flowers, in the fields; coy Dots, half +shrinking from, half yielding to, the pleading of his own rough +image; newly-married Dots, alighting at the door, and taking +wondering possession of the household keys; motherly little Dots, +attended by fictitious Slowboys, bearing babies to be christened; +matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching Dots of +daughters, as they danced at rustic balls; fat Dots, encircled and +beset by troops of rosy grandchildren; withered Dots, who leaned on +sticks, and tottered as they crept along. Old Carriers too, +appeared, with blind old Boxers lying at their feet; and newer +carts with younger drivers ('Peerybingle Brothers' on the tilt); +and sick old Carriers, tended by the gentlest hands; and graves of +dead and gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. And as the +Cricket showed him all these things--he saw them plainly, though +his eyes were fixed upon the fire--the Carrier's heart grew light +and happy, and he thanked his Household Gods with all his might, +and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than you do. + + +But, what was that young figure of a man, which the same Fairy +Cricket set so near Her stool, and which remained there, singly and +alone? Why did it linger still, so near her, with its arm upon the +chimney-piece, ever repeating 'Married! and not to me!' + +O Dot! O failing Dot! There is no place for it in all your +husband's visions; why has its shadow fallen on his hearth! + + + +CHAPTER II--Chirp The Second + + + +Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by themselves, +as the Story-books say--and my blessing, with yours to back it I +hope, on the Story-books, for saying anything in this workaday +world!--Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by +themselves, in a little cracked nutshell of a wooden house, which +was, in truth, no better than a pimple on the prominent red-brick +nose of Gruff and Tackleton. The premises of Gruff and Tackleton +were the great feature of the street; but you might have knocked +down Caleb Plummer's dwelling with a hammer or two, and carried off +the pieces in a cart. + +If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb Plummer the honour +to miss it after such an inroad, it would have been, no doubt, to +commend its demolition as a vast improvement. It stuck to the +premises of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship's keel, +or a snail to a door, or a little bunch of toadstools to the stem +of a tree. + +But, it was the germ from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff and +Tackleton had sprung; and, under its crazy roof, the Gruff before +last, had, in a small way, made toys for a generation of old boys +and girls, who had played with them, and found them out, and broken +them, and gone to sleep. + +I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter lived here. I +should have said that Caleb lived here, and his poor Blind Daughter +somewhere else--in an enchanted home of Caleb's furnishing, where +scarcity and shabbiness were not, and trouble never entered. Caleb +was no sorcerer, but in the only magic art that still remains to +us, the magic of devoted, deathless love, Nature had been the +mistress of his study; and from her teaching, all the wonder came. + +The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discoloured, walls +blotched and bare of plaster here and there, high crevices +unstopped and widening every day, beams mouldering and tending +downward. The Blind Girl never knew that iron was rusting, wood +rotting, paper peeling off; the size, and shape, and true +proportion of the dwelling, withering away. The Blind Girl never +knew that ugly shapes of delf and earthenware were on the board; +that sorrow and faintheartedness were in the house; that Caleb's +scanty hairs were turning greyer and more grey, before her +sightless face. The Blind Girl never knew they had a master, cold, +exacting, and uninterested--never knew that Tackleton was Tackleton +in short; but lived in the belief of an eccentric humourist who +loved to have his jest with them, and who, while he was the +Guardian Angel of their lives, disdained to hear one word of +thankfulness. + +And all was Caleb's doing; all the doing of her simple father! But +he too had a Cricket on his Hearth; and listening sadly to its +music when the motherless Blind Child was very young, that Spirit +had inspired him with the thought that even her great deprivation +might be almost changed into a blessing, and the girl made happy by +these little means. For all the Cricket tribe are potent Spirits, +even though the people who hold converse with them do not know it +(which is frequently the case); and there are not in the unseen +world, voices more gentle and more true, that may be so implicitly +relied on, or that are so certain to give none but tenderest +counsel, as the Voices in which the Spirits of the Fireside and the +Hearth address themselves to human kind. + +Caleb and his daughter were at work together in their usual +working-room, which served them for their ordinary living-room as +well; and a strange place it was. There were houses in it, +finished and unfinished, for Dolls of all stations in life. +Suburban tenements for Dolls of moderate means; kitchens and single +apartments for Dolls of the lower classes; capital town residences +for Dolls of high estate. Some of these establishments were +already furnished according to estimate, with a view to the +convenience of Dolls of limited income; others could be fitted on +the most expensive scale, at a moment's notice, from whole shelves +of chairs and tables, sofas, bedsteads, and upholstery. The +nobility and gentry, and public in general, for whose accommodation +these tenements were designed, lay, here and there, in baskets, +staring straight up at the ceiling; but, in denoting their degrees +in society, and confining them to their respective stations (which +experience shows to be lamentably difficult in real life), the +makers of these Dolls had far improved on Nature, who is often +froward and perverse; for, they, not resting on such arbitrary +marks as satin, cotton-print, and bits of rag, had superadded +striking personal differences which allowed of no mistake. Thus, +the Doll-lady of distinction had wax limbs of perfect symmetry; but +only she and her compeers. The next grade in the social scale +being made of leather, and the next of coarse linen stuff. As to +the common-people, they had just so many matches out of tinder- +boxes, for their arms and legs, and there they were--established in +their sphere at once, beyond the possibility of getting out of it. + +There were various other samples of his handicraft, besides Dolls, +in Caleb Plummer's room. There were Noah's Arks, in which the +Birds and Beasts were an uncommonly tight fit, I assure you; though +they could be crammed in, anyhow, at the roof, and rattled and +shaken into the smallest compass. By a bold poetical licence, most +of these Noah's Arks had knockers on the doors; inconsistent +appendages, perhaps, as suggestive of morning callers and a +Postman, yet a pleasant finish to the outside of the building. +There were scores of melancholy little carts, which, when the +wheels went round, performed most doleful music. Many small +fiddles, drums, and other instruments of torture; no end of cannon, +shields, swords, spears, and guns. There were little tumblers in +red breeches, incessantly swarming up high obstacles of red-tape, +and coming down, head first, on the other side; and there were +innumerable old gentlemen of respectable, not to say venerable, +appearance, insanely flying over horizontal pegs, inserted, for the +purpose, in their own street doors. There were beasts of all +sorts; horses, in particular, of every breed, from the spotted +barrel on four pegs, with a small tippet for a mane, to the +thoroughbred rocker on his highest mettle. As it would have been +hard to count the dozens upon dozens of grotesque figures that were +ever ready to commit all sorts of absurdities on the turning of a +handle, so it would have been no easy task to mention any human +folly, vice, or weakness, that had not its type, immediate or +remote, in Caleb Plummer's room. And not in an exaggerated form, +for very little handles will move men and women to as strange +performances, as any Toy was ever made to undertake. + +In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his daughter sat at +work. The Blind Girl busy as a Doll's dressmaker; Caleb painting +and glazing the four-pair front of a desirable family mansion. + +The care imprinted in the lines of Caleb's face, and his absorbed +and dreamy manner, which would have sat well on some alchemist or +abstruse student, were at first sight an odd contrast to his +occupation, and the trivialities about him. But, trivial things, +invented and pursued for bread, become very serious matters of +fact; and, apart from this consideration, I am not at all prepared +to say, myself, that if Caleb had been a Lord Chamberlain, or a +Member of Parliament, or a lawyer, or even a great speculator, he +would have dealt in toys one whit less whimsical, while I have a +very great doubt whether they would have been as harmless. + +'So you were out in the rain last night, father, in your beautiful +new great-coat,' said Caleb's daughter. + +'In my beautiful new great-coat,' answered Caleb, glancing towards +a clothes-line in the room, on which the sack-cloth garment +previously described, was carefully hung up to dry. + +'How glad I am you bought it, father!' + +'And of such a tailor, too,' said Caleb. 'Quite a fashionable +tailor. It's too good for me.' + +The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed with delight. + +'Too good, father! What can be too good for you?' + +'I'm half-ashamed to wear it though,' said Caleb, watching the +effect of what he said, upon her brightening face; 'upon my word! +When I hear the boys and people say behind me, "Hal-loa! Here's a +swell!" I don't know which way to look. And when the beggar +wouldn't go away last night; and when I said I was a very common +man, said "No, your Honour! Bless your Honour, don't say that!" I +was quite ashamed. I really felt as if I hadn't a right to wear +it.' + +Happy Blind Girl! How merry she was, in her exultation! + +'I see you, father,' she said, clasping her hands, 'as plainly, as +if I had the eyes I never want when you are with me. A blue coat-- +' + +'Bright blue,' said Caleb. + +'Yes, yes! Bright blue!' exclaimed the girl, turning up her +radiant face; 'the colour I can just remember in the blessed sky! +You told me it was blue before! A bright blue coat--' + +'Made loose to the figure,' suggested Caleb. + +'Made loose to the figure!' cried the Blind Girl, laughing +heartily; 'and in it, you, dear father, with your merry eye, your +smiling face, your free step, and your dark hair--looking so young +and handsome!' + +'Halloa! Halloa!' said Caleb. 'I shall be vain, presently!' + +'I think you are, already,' cried the Blind Girl, pointing at him, +in her glee. 'I know you, father! Ha, ha, ha! I've found you +out, you see!' + +How different the picture in her mind, from Caleb, as he sat +observing her! She had spoken of his free step. She was right in +that. For years and years, he had never once crossed that +threshold at his own slow pace, but with a footfall counterfeited +for her ear; and never had he, when his heart was heaviest, +forgotten the light tread that was to render hers so cheerful and +courageous! + +Heaven knows! But I think Caleb's vague bewilderment of manner may +have half originated in his having confused himself about himself +and everything around him, for the love of his Blind Daughter. How +could the little man be otherwise than bewildered, after labouring +for so many years to destroy his own identity, and that of all the +objects that had any bearing on it! + +'There we are,' said Caleb, falling back a pace or two to form the +better judgment of his work; 'as near the real thing as +sixpenn'orth of halfpence is to sixpence. What a pity that the +whole front of the house opens at once! If there was only a +staircase in it, now, and regular doors to the rooms to go in at! +But that's the worst of my calling, I'm always deluding myself, and +swindling myself.' + +'You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired, father?' + +'Tired!' echoed Caleb, with a great burst of animation, 'what +should tire me, Bertha? _I_ was never tired. What does it mean?' + +To give the greater force to his words, he checked himself in an +involuntary imitation of two half-length stretching and yawning +figures on the mantel-shelf, who were represented as in one eternal +state of weariness from the waist upwards; and hummed a fragment of +a song. It was a Bacchanalian song, something about a Sparkling +Bowl. He sang it with an assumption of a Devil-may-care voice, +that made his face a thousand times more meagre and more thoughtful +than ever. + +'What! You're singing, are you?' said Tackleton, putting his head +in at the door. 'Go it! _I_ can't sing.' + +Nobody would have suspected him of it. He hadn't what is generally +termed a singing face, by any means. + +'I can't afford to sing,' said Tackleton. 'I'm glad YOU CAN. I +hope you can afford to work too. Hardly time for both, I should +think?' + +'If you could only see him, Bertha, how he's winking at me!' +whispered Caleb. 'Such a man to joke! you'd think, if you didn't +know him, he was in earnest--wouldn't you now?' + +The Blind Girl smiled and nodded. + +'The bird that can sing and won't sing, must be made to sing, they +say,' grumbled Tackleton. 'What about the owl that can't sing, and +oughtn't to sing, and will sing; is there anything that HE should +be made to do?' + +'The extent to which he's winking at this moment!' whispered Caleb +to his daughter. 'O, my gracious!' + +'Always merry and light-hearted with us!' cried the smiling Bertha. + +'O, you're there, are you?' answered Tackleton. 'Poor Idiot!' + +He really did believe she was an Idiot; and he founded the belief, +I can't say whether consciously or not, upon her being fond of him. + +'Well! and being there,--how are you?' said Tackleton, in his +grudging way. + +'Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even you can wish me to be. +As happy as you would make the whole world, if you could!' + +'Poor Idiot!' muttered Tackleton. 'No gleam of reason. Not a +gleam!' + +The Blind Girl took his hand and kissed it; held it for a moment in +her own two hands; and laid her cheek against it tenderly, before +releasing it. There was such unspeakable affection and such +fervent gratitude in the act, that Tackleton himself was moved to +say, in a milder growl than usual: + +'What's the matter now?' + +'I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to sleep last night, +and remembered it in my dreams. And when the day broke, and the +glorious red sun--the RED sun, father?' + +'Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha,' said poor Caleb, +with a woeful glance at his employer. + +'When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear to strike myself +against in walking, came into the room, I turned the little tree +towards it, and blessed Heaven for making things so precious, and +blessed you for sending them to cheer me!' + +'Bedlam broke loose!' said Tackleton under his breath. 'We shall +arrive at the strait-waistcoat and mufflers soon. We're getting +on!' + +Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, stared vacantly +before him while his daughter spoke, as if he really were uncertain +(I believe he was) whether Tackleton had done anything to deserve +her thanks, or not. If he could have been a perfectly free agent, +at that moment, required, on pain of death, to kick the Toy- +merchant, or fall at his feet, according to his merits, I believe +it would have been an even chance which course he would have taken. +Yet, Caleb knew that with his own hands he had brought the little +rose-tree home for her, so carefully, and that with his own lips he +had forged the innocent deception which should help to keep her +from suspecting how much, how very much, he every day, denied +himself, that she might be the happier. + +'Bertha!' said Tackleton, assuming, for the nonce, a little +cordiality. 'Come here.' + +'Oh! I can come straight to you! You needn't guide me!' she +rejoined. + +'Shall I tell you a secret, Bertha?' + +'If you will!' she answered, eagerly. + +How bright the darkened face! How adorned with light, the +listening head! + +'This is the day on which little what's-her-name, the spoilt child, +Peerybingle's wife, pays her regular visit to you--makes her +fantastic Pic-Nic here; an't it?' said Tackleton, with a strong +expression of distaste for the whole concern. + +'Yes,' replied Bertha. 'This is the day.' + +'I thought so,' said Tackleton. 'I should like to join the party.' + +'Do you hear that, father!' cried the Blind Girl in an ecstasy. + +'Yes, yes, I hear it,' murmured Caleb, with the fixed look of a +sleep-walker; 'but I don't believe it. It's one of my lies, I've +no doubt.' + +'You see I--I want to bring the Peerybingles a little more into +company with May Fielding,' said Tackleton. 'I am going to be +married to May.' + +'Married!' cried the Blind Girl, starting from him. + +'She's such a con-founded Idiot,' muttered Tackleton, 'that I was +afraid she'd never comprehend me. Ah, Bertha! Married! Church, +parson, clerk, beadle, glass-coach, bells, breakfast, bride-cake, +favours, marrow-bones, cleavers, and all the rest of the +tomfoolery. A wedding, you know; a wedding. Don't you know what a +wedding is?' + +'I know,' replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle tone. 'I +understand!' + +'Do you?' muttered Tackleton. 'It's more than I expected. Well! +On that account I want to join the party, and to bring May and her +mother. I'll send in a little something or other, before the +afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, or some comfortable trifle of +that sort. You'll expect me?' + +'Yes,' she answered. + +She had drooped her head, and turned away; and so stood, with her +hands crossed, musing. + +'I don't think you will,' muttered Tackleton, looking at her; 'for +you seem to have forgotten all about it, already. Caleb!' + +'I may venture to say I'm here, I suppose,' thought Caleb. 'Sir!' + +'Take care she don't forget what I've been saying to her.' + +'SHE never forgets,' returned Caleb. 'It's one of the few things +she an't clever in.' + +'Every man thinks his own geese swans,' observed the Toy-merchant, +with a shrug. 'Poor devil!' + +Having delivered himself of which remark, with infinite contempt, +old Gruff and Tackleton withdrew. + +Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in meditation. The +gaiety had vanished from her downcast face, and it was very sad. +Three or four times she shook her head, as if bewailing some +remembrance or some loss; but her sorrowful reflections found no +vent in words. + +It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some time, in yoking a +team of horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing the +harness to the vital parts of their bodies, that she drew near to +his working-stool, and sitting down beside him, said: + +'Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes, my patient, +willing eyes.' + +'Here they are,' said Caleb. 'Always ready. They are more yours +than mine, Bertha, any hour in the four-and-twenty. What shall +your eyes do for you, dear?' + +'Look round the room, father.' + +'All right,' said Caleb. 'No sooner said than done, Bertha.' + +'Tell me about it.' + +'It's much the same as usual,' said Caleb. 'Homely, but very snug. +The gay colours on the walls; the bright flowers on the plates and +dishes; the shining wood, where there are beams or panels; the +general cheerfulness and neatness of the building; make it very +pretty.' + +Cheerful and neat it was wherever Bertha's hands could busy +themselves. But nowhere else, were cheerfulness and neatness +possible, in the old crazy shed which Caleb's fancy so transformed. + +'You have your working dress on, and are not so gallant as when you +wear the handsome coat?' said Bertha, touching him. + +'Not quite so gallant,' answered Caleb. 'Pretty brisk though.' + +'Father,' said the Blind Girl, drawing close to his side, and +stealing one arm round his neck, 'tell me something about May. She +is very fair?' + +'She is indeed,' said Caleb. And she was indeed. It was quite a +rare thing to Caleb, not to have to draw on his invention. + +'Her hair is dark,' said Bertha, pensively, 'darker than mine. Her +voice is sweet and musical, I know. I have often loved to hear it. +Her shape--' + +'There's not a Doll's in all the room to equal it,' said Caleb. +'And her eyes!--' + +He stopped; for Bertha had drawn closer round his neck, and from +the arm that clung about him, came a warning pressure which he +understood too well. + +He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, and then fell back upon +the song about the sparkling bowl; his infallible resource in all +such difficulties. + +'Our friend, father, our benefactor. I am never tired, you know, +of hearing about him.--Now, was I ever?' she said, hastily. + +'Of course not,' answered Caleb, 'and with reason.' + +'Ah! With how much reason!' cried the Blind Girl. With such +fervency, that Caleb, though his motives were so pure, could not +endure to meet her face; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have +read in them his innocent deceit. + +'Then, tell me again about him, dear father,' said Bertha. 'Many +times again! His face is benevolent, kind, and tender. Honest and +true, I am sure it is. The manly heart that tries to cloak all +favours with a show of roughness and unwillingness, beats in its +every look and glance.' + +'And makes it noble!' added Caleb, in his quiet desperation. + +'And makes it noble!' cried the Blind Girl. 'He is older than May, +father.' + +'Ye-es,' said Caleb, reluctantly. 'He's a little older than May. +But that don't signify.' + +'Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in infirmity and age; +to be his gentle nurse in sickness, and his constant friend in +suffering and sorrow; to know no weariness in working for his sake; +to watch him, tend him, sit beside his bed and talk to him awake, +and pray for him asleep; what privileges these would be! What +opportunities for proving all her truth and devotion to him! Would +she do all this, dear father? + +'No doubt of it,' said Caleb. + +'I love her, father; I can love her from my soul!' exclaimed the +Blind Girl. And saying so, she laid her poor blind face on Caleb's +shoulder, and so wept and wept, that he was almost sorry to have +brought that tearful happiness upon her. + +In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp commotion at John +Peerybingle's, for little Mrs. Peerybingle naturally couldn't think +of going anywhere without the Baby; and to get the Baby under weigh +took time. Not that there was much of the Baby, speaking of it as +a thing of weight and measure, but there was a vast deal to do +about and about it, and it all had to be done by easy stages. For +instance, when the Baby was got, by hook and by crook, to a certain +point of dressing, and you might have rationally supposed that +another touch or two would finish him off, and turn him out a tip- +top Baby challenging the world, he was unexpectedly extinguished in +a flannel cap, and hustled off to bed; where he simmered (so to +speak) between two blankets for the best part of an hour. From +this state of inaction he was then recalled, shining very much and +roaring violently, to partake of--well? I would rather say, if +you'll permit me to speak generally--of a slight repast. After +which, he went to sleep again. Mrs. Peerybingle took advantage of +this interval, to make herself as smart in a small way as ever you +saw anybody in all your life; and, during the same short truce, +Miss Slowboy insinuated herself into a spencer of a fashion so +surprising and ingenious, that it had no connection with herself, +or anything else in the universe, but was a shrunken, dog's-eared, +independent fact, pursuing its lonely course without the least +regard to anybody. By this time, the Baby, being all alive again, +was invested, by the united efforts of Mrs. Peerybingle and Miss +Slowboy, with a cream-coloured mantle for its body, and a sort of +nankeen raised-pie for its head; and so in course of time they all +three got down to the door, where the old horse had already taken +more than the full value of his day's toll out of the Turnpike +Trust, by tearing up the road with his impatient autographs; and +whence Boxer might be dimly seen in the remote perspective, +standing looking back, and tempting him to come on without orders. + +As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping Mrs. +Peerybingle into the cart, you know very little of John, if you +think THAT was necessary. Before you could have seen him lift her +from the ground, there she was in her place, fresh and rosy, +saying, 'John! How CAN you! Think of Tilly!' + +If I might be allowed to mention a young lady's legs, on any terms, +I would observe of Miss Slowboy's that there was a fatality about +them which rendered them singularly liable to be grazed; and that +she never effected the smallest ascent or descent, without +recording the circumstance upon them with a notch, as Robinson +Crusoe marked the days upon his wooden calendar. But as this might +be considered ungenteel, I'll think of it. + +'John? You've got the Basket with the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, +and the bottles of Beer?' said Dot. 'If you haven't, you must turn +round again, this very minute.' + +'You're a nice little article,' returned the Carrier, 'to be +talking about turning round, after keeping me a full quarter of an +hour behind my time.' + +'I am sorry for it, John,' said Dot in a great bustle, 'but I +really could not think of going to Bertha's--I would not do it, +John, on any account--without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and +the bottles of Beer. Way!' + +This monosyllable was addressed to the horse, who didn't mind it at +all. + +'Oh DO way, John!' said Mrs. Peerybingle. 'Please!' + +'It'll be time enough to do that,' returned John, 'when I begin to +leave things behind me. The basket's here, safe enough.' + +'What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, not to have said +so, at once, and save me such a turn! I declared I wouldn't go to +Bertha's without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles +of Beer, for any money. Regularly once a fortnight ever since we +have been married, John, have we made our little Pic-Nic there. If +anything was to go wrong with it, I should almost think we were +never to be lucky again.' + +'It was a kind thought in the first instance,' said the Carrier: +'and I honour you for it, little woman.' + +'My dear John,' replied Dot, turning very red, 'don't talk about +honouring ME. Good Gracious!' + +'By the bye--' observed the Carrier. 'That old gentleman--' + +Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed! + +'He's an odd fish,' said the Carrier, looking straight along the +road before them. 'I can't make him out. I don't believe there's +any harm in him.' + +'None at all. I'm--I'm sure there's none at all.' + +'Yes,' said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted to her face by the +great earnestness of her manner. 'I am glad you feel so certain of +it, because it's a confirmation to me. It's curious that he should +have taken it into his head to ask leave to go on lodging with us; +an't it? Things come about so strangely.' + +'So very strangely,' she rejoined in a low voice, scarcely audible. + +'However, he's a good-natured old gentleman,' said John, 'and pays +as a gentleman, and I think his word is to be relied upon, like a +gentleman's. I had quite a long talk with him this morning: he +can hear me better already, he says, as he gets more used to my +voice. He told me a great deal about himself, and I told him a +great deal about myself, and a rare lot of questions he asked me. +I gave him information about my having two beats, you know, in my +business; one day to the right from our house and back again; +another day to the left from our house and back again (for he's a +stranger and don't know the names of places about here); and he +seemed quite pleased. "Why, then I shall be returning home to- +night your way," he says, "when I thought you'd be coming in an +exactly opposite direction. That's capital! I may trouble you for +another lift perhaps, but I'll engage not to fall so sound asleep +again." He WAS sound asleep, sure-ly!--Dot! what are you thinking +of?' + +'Thinking of, John? I--I was listening to you.' + +'O! That's all right!' said the honest Carrier. 'I was afraid, +from the look of your face, that I had gone rambling on so long, as +to set you thinking about something else. I was very near it, I'll +be bound.' + +Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little time, in +silence. But, it was not easy to remain silent very long in John +Peerybingle's cart, for everybody on the road had something to say. +Though it might only be 'How are you!' and indeed it was very often +nothing else, still, to give that back again in the right spirit of +cordiality, required, not merely a nod and a smile, but as +wholesome an action of the lungs withal, as a long-winded +Parliamentary speech. Sometimes, passengers on foot, or horseback, +plodded on a little way beside the cart, for the express purpose of +having a chat; and then there was a great deal to be said, on both +sides. + +Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured recognitions of, and +by, the Carrier, than half-a-dozen Christians could have done! +Everybody knew him, all along the road--especially the fowls and +pigs, who when they saw him approaching, with his body all on one +side, and his ears pricked up inquisitively, and that knob of a +tail making the most of itself in the air, immediately withdrew +into remote back settlements, without waiting for the honour of a +nearer acquaintance. He had business everywhere; going down all +the turnings, looking into all the wells, bolting in and out of all +the cottages, dashing into the midst of all the Dame-Schools, +fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying the tails of all the cats, +and trotting into the public-houses like a regular customer. +Wherever he went, somebody or other might have been heard to cry, +'Halloa! Here's Boxer!' and out came that somebody forthwith, +accompanied by at least two or three other somebodies, to give John +Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day. + +The packages and parcels for the errand cart, were numerous; and +there were many stoppages to take them in and give them out, which +were not by any means the worst parts of the journey. Some people +were so full of expectation about their parcels, and other people +were so full of wonder about their parcels, and other people were +so full of inexhaustible directions about their parcels, and John +had such a lively interest in all the parcels, that it was as good +as a play. Likewise, there were articles to carry, which required +to be considered and discussed, and in reference to the adjustment +and disposition of which, councils had to be holden by the Carrier +and the senders: at which Boxer usually assisted, in short fits of +the closest attention, and long fits of tearing round and round the +assembled sages and barking himself hoarse. Of all these little +incidents, Dot was the amused and open-eyed spectatress from her +chair in the cart; and as she sat there, looking on--a charming +little portrait framed to admiration by the tilt--there was no lack +of nudgings and glancings and whisperings and envyings among the +younger men. And this delighted John the Carrier, beyond measure; +for he was proud to have his little wife admired, knowing that she +didn't mind it--that, if anything, she rather liked it perhaps. + +The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the January weather; +and was raw and cold. But who cared for such trifles? Not Dot, +decidedly. Not Tilly Slowboy, for she deemed sitting in a cart, on +any terms, to be the highest point of human joys; the crowning +circumstance of earthly hopes. Not the Baby, I'll be sworn; for +it's not in Baby nature to be warmer or more sound asleep, though +its capacity is great in both respects, than that blessed young +Peerybingle was, all the way. + +You couldn't see very far in the fog, of course; but you could see +a great deal! It's astonishing how much you may see, in a thicker +fog than that, if you will only take the trouble to look for it. +Why, even to sit watching for the Fairy-rings in the fields, and +for the patches of hoar-frost still lingering in the shade, near +hedges and by trees, was a pleasant occupation: to make no mention +of the unexpected shapes in which the trees themselves came +starting out of the mist, and glided into it again. The hedges +were tangled and bare, and waved a multitude of blighted garlands +in the wind; but there was no discouragement in this. It was +agreeable to contemplate; for it made the fireside warmer in +possession, and the summer greener in expectancy. The river looked +chilly; but it was in motion, and moving at a good pace--which was +a great point. The canal was rather slow and torpid; that must be +admitted. Never mind. It would freeze the sooner when the frost +set fairly in, and then there would be skating, and sliding; and +the heavy old barges, frozen up somewhere near a wharf, would smoke +their rusty iron chimney pipes all day, and have a lazy time of it. + +In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or stubble burning; +and they watched the fire, so white in the daytime, flaring through +the fog, with only here and there a dash of red in it, until, in +consequence, as she observed, of the smoke 'getting up her nose,' +Miss Slowboy choked--she could do anything of that sort, on the +smallest provocation--and woke the Baby, who wouldn't go to sleep +again. But, Boxer, who was in advance some quarter of a mile or +so, had already passed the outposts of the town, and gained the +corner of the street where Caleb and his daughter lived; and long +before they had reached the door, he and the Blind Girl were on the +pavement waiting to receive them. + +Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions of his own, +in his communication with Bertha, which persuade me fully that he +knew her to be blind. He never sought to attract her attention by +looking at her, as he often did with other people, but touched her +invariably. What experience he could ever have had of blind people +or blind dogs, I don't know. He had never lived with a blind +master; nor had Mr. Boxer the elder, nor Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his +respectable family on either side, ever been visited with +blindness, that I am aware of. He may have found it out for +himself, perhaps, but he had got hold of it somehow; and therefore +he had hold of Bertha too, by the skirt, and kept hold, until Mrs. +Peerybingle and the Baby, and Miss Slowboy, and the basket, were +all got safely within doors. + +May Fielding was already come; and so was her mother--a little +querulous chip of an old lady with a peevish face, who, in right of +having preserved a waist like a bedpost, was supposed to be a most +transcendent figure; and who, in consequence of having once been +better off, or of labouring under an impression that she might have +been, if something had happened which never did happen, and seemed +to have never been particularly likely to come to pass--but it's +all the same--was very genteel and patronising indeed. Gruff and +Tackleton was also there, doing the agreeable, with the evident +sensation of being as perfectly at home, and as unquestionably in +his own element, as a fresh young salmon on the top of the Great +Pyramid. + +'May! My dear old friend!' cried Dot, running up to meet her. +'What a happiness to see you.' + +Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad as she; and +it really was, if you'll believe me, quite a pleasant sight to see +them embrace. Tackleton was a man of taste beyond all question. +May was very pretty. + +You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty face, how, when +it comes into contact and comparison with another pretty face, it +seems for the moment to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve +the high opinion you have had of it. Now, this was not at all the +case, either with Dot or May; for May's face set off Dot's, and +Dot's face set off May's, so naturally and agreeably, that, as John +Peerybingle was very near saying when he came into the room, they +ought to have been born sisters--which was the only improvement you +could have suggested. + +Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, wonderful to relate, +a tart besides--but we don't mind a little dissipation when our +brides are in the case. we don't get married every day--and in +addition to these dainties, there were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and +'things,' as Mrs. Peerybingle called them; which were chiefly nuts +and oranges, and cakes, and such small deer. When the repast was +set forth on the board, flanked by Caleb's contribution, which was +a great wooden bowl of smoking potatoes (he was prohibited, by +solemn compact, from producing any other viands), Tackleton led his +intended mother-in-law to the post of honour. For the better +gracing of this place at the high festival, the majestic old soul +had adorned herself with a cap, calculated to inspire the +thoughtless with sentiments of awe. She also wore her gloves. But +let us be genteel, or die! + +Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old schoolfellow were side +by side; the good Carrier took care of the bottom of the table. +Miss Slowboy was isolated, for the time being, from every article +of furniture but the chair she sat on, that she might have nothing +else to knock the Baby's head against. + +As Tilly stared about her at the dolls and toys, they stared at her +and at the company. The venerable old gentlemen at the street +doors (who were all in full action) showed especial interest in the +party, pausing occasionally before leaping, as if they were +listening to the conversation, and then plunging wildly over and +over, a great many times, without halting for breath--as in a +frantic state of delight with the whole proceedings. + +Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to have a fiendish +joy in the contemplation of Tackleton's discomfiture, they had good +reason to be satisfied. Tackleton couldn't get on at all; and the +more cheerful his intended bride became in Dot's society, the less +he liked it, though he had brought them together for that purpose. +For he was a regular dog in the manger, was Tackleton; and when +they laughed and he couldn't, he took it into his head, +immediately, that they must be laughing at him. + +'Ah, May!' said Dot. 'Dear dear, what changes! To talk of those +merry school-days makes one young again.' + +'Why, you an't particularly old, at any time; are you?' said +Tackleton. + +'Look at my sober plodding husband there,' returned Dot. 'He adds +twenty years to my age at least. Don't you, John?' + +'Forty,' John replied. + +'How many YOU'll add to May's, I am sure I don't know,' said Dot, +laughing. 'But she can't be much less than a hundred years of age +on her next birthday.' + +'Ha ha!' laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a drum, that laugh though. +And he looked as if he could have twisted Dot's neck, comfortably. + +'Dear dear!' said Dot. 'Only to remember how we used to talk, at +school, about the husbands we would choose. I don't know how +young, and how handsome, and how gay, and how lively, mine was not +to be! And as to May's!--Ah dear! I don't know whether to laugh +or cry, when I think what silly girls we were.' + +May seemed to know which to do; for the colour flushed into her +face, and tears stood in her eyes. + +'Even the very persons themselves--real live young men--were fixed +on sometimes,' said Dot. 'We little thought how things would come +about. I never fixed on John I'm sure; I never so much as thought +of him. And if I had told you, you were ever to be married to Mr. +Tackleton, why you'd have slapped me. Wouldn't you, May?' + +Though May didn't say yes, she certainly didn't say no, or express +no, by any means. + +Tackleton laughed--quite shouted, he laughed so loud. John +Peerybingle laughed too, in his ordinary good-natured and contented +manner; but his was a mere whisper of a laugh, to Tackleton's. + +'You couldn't help yourselves, for all that. You couldn't resist +us, you see,' said Tackleton. 'Here we are! Here we are!' + +'Where are your gay young bridegrooms now!' + +'Some of them are dead,' said Dot; 'and some of them forgotten. +Some of them, if they could stand among us at this moment, would +not believe we were the same creatures; would not believe that what +they saw and heard was real, and we COULD forget them so. No! they +would not believe one word of it!' + +'Why, Dot!' exclaimed the Carrier. 'Little woman!' + +She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, that she stood in +need of some recalling to herself, without doubt. Her husband's +check was very gentle, for he merely interfered, as he supposed, to +shield old Tackleton; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, and +said no more. There was an uncommon agitation, even in her +silence, which the wary Tackleton, who had brought his half-shut +eye to bear upon her, noted closely, and remembered to some purpose +too. + +May uttered no word, good or bad, but sat quite still, with her +eyes cast down, and made no sign of interest in what had passed. +The good lady her mother now interposed, observing, in the first +instance, that girls were girls, and byegones byegones, and that so +long as young people were young and thoughtless, they would +probably conduct themselves like young and thoughtless persons: +with two or three other positions of a no less sound and +incontrovertible character. She then remarked, in a devout spirit, +that she thanked Heaven she had always found in her daughter May, a +dutiful and obedient child; for which she took no credit to +herself, though she had every reason to believe it was entirely +owing to herself. With regard to Mr. Tackleton she said, That he +was in a moral point of view an undeniable individual, and That he +was in an eligible point of view a son-in-law to be desired, no one +in their senses could doubt. (She was very emphatic here.) With +regard to the family into which he was so soon about, after some +solicitation, to be admitted, she believed Mr. Tackleton knew that, +although reduced in purse, it had some pretensions to gentility; +and if certain circumstances, not wholly unconnected, she would go +so far as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to which she would not +more particularly refer, had happened differently, it might perhaps +have been in possession of wealth. She then remarked that she +would not allude to the past, and would not mention that her +daughter had for some time rejected the suit of Mr. Tackleton; and +that she would not say a great many other things which she did say, +at great length. Finally, she delivered it as the general result +of her observation and experience, that those marriages in which +there was least of what was romantically and sillily called love, +were always the happiest; and that she anticipated the greatest +possible amount of bliss--not rapturous bliss; but the solid, +steady-going article--from the approaching nuptials. She concluded +by informing the company that to-morrow was the day she had lived +for, expressly; and that when it was over, she would desire nothing +better than to be packed up and disposed of, in any genteel place +of burial. + +As these remarks were quite unanswerable--which is the happy +property of all remarks that are sufficiently wide of the purpose-- +they changed the current of the conversation, and diverted the +general attention to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold mutton, the +potatoes, and the tart. In order that the bottled beer might not +be slighted, John Peerybingle proposed To-morrow: the Wedding-Day; +and called upon them to drink a bumper to it, before he proceeded +on his journey. + +For you ought to know that he only rested there, and gave the old +horse a bait. He had to go some four of five miles farther on; and +when he returned in the evening, he called for Dot, and took +another rest on his way home. This was the order of the day on all +the Pic-Nic occasions, had been, ever since their institution. + +There were two persons present, besides the bride and bridegroom +elect, who did but indifferent honour to the toast. One of these +was Dot, too flushed and discomposed to adapt herself to any small +occurrence of the moment; the other, Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, +before the rest, and left the table. + +'Good bye!' said stout John Peerybingle, pulling on his dreadnought +coat. 'I shall be back at the old time. Good bye all!' + +'Good bye, John,' returned Caleb. + +He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand in the same +unconscious manner; for he stood observing Bertha with an anxious +wondering face, that never altered its expression. + +'Good bye, young shaver!' said the jolly Carrier, bending down to +kiss the child; which Tilly Slowboy, now intent upon her knife and +fork, had deposited asleep (and strange to say, without damage) in +a little cot of Bertha's furnishing; 'good bye! Time will come, I +suppose, when YOU'LL turn out into the cold, my little friend, and +leave your old father to enjoy his pipe and his rheumatics in the +chimney-corner; eh? Where's Dot?' + +'I'm here, John!' she said, starting. + +'Come, come!' returned the Carrier, clapping his sounding hands. +'Where's the pipe?' + +'I quite forgot the pipe, John.' + +Forgot the pipe! Was such a wonder ever heard of! She! Forgot +the pipe! + +'I'll--I'll fill it directly. It's soon done.' + +But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the usual place-- +the Carrier's dreadnought pocket--with the little pouch, her own +work, from which she was used to fill it, but her hand shook so, +that she entangled it (and yet her hand was small enough to have +come out easily, I am sure), and bungled terribly. The filling of +the pipe and lighting it, those little offices in which I have +commended her discretion, were vilely done, from first to last. +During the whole process, Tackleton stood looking on maliciously +with the half-closed eye; which, whenever it met hers--or caught +it, for it can hardly be said to have ever met another eye: rather +being a kind of trap to snatch it up--augmented her confusion in a +most remarkable degree. + +'Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!' said John. 'I +could have done it better myself, I verify believe!' + +With these good-natured words, he strode away, and presently was +heard, in company with Boxer, and the old horse, and the cart, +making lively music down the road. What time the dreamy Caleb +still stood, watching his blind daughter, with the same expression +on his face. + +'Bertha!' said Caleb, softly. 'What has happened? How changed you +are, my darling, in a few hours--since this morning. YOU silent +and dull all day! What is it? Tell me!' + +'Oh father, father!' cried the Blind Girl, bursting into tears. +'Oh my hard, hard fate!' + +Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered her. + +'But think how cheerful and how happy you have been, Bertha! How +good, and how much loved, by many people.' + +'That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always so mindful of +me! Always so kind to me!' + +Caleb was very much perplexed to understand her. + +'To be--to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear,' he faltered, 'is a +great affliction; but--' + +'I have never felt it!' cried the Blind Girl. 'I have never felt +it, in its fulness. Never! I have sometimes wished that I could +see you, or could see him--only once, dear father, only for one +little minute--that I might know what it is I treasure up,' she +laid her hands upon her breast, 'and hold here! That I might be +sure and have it right! And sometimes (but then I was a child) I +have wept in my prayers at night, to think that when your images +ascended from my heart to Heaven, they might not be the true +resemblance of yourselves. But I have never had these feelings +long. They have passed away and left me tranquil and contented.' + +'And they will again,' said Caleb. + +'But, father! Oh my good, gentle father, bear with me, if I am +wicked!' said the Blind Girl. 'This is not the sorrow that so +weighs me down!' + +Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes overflow; she +was so earnest and pathetic, but he did not understand her, yet. + +'Bring her to me,' said Bertha. 'I cannot hold it closed and shut +within myself. Bring her to me, father!' + +She knew he hesitated, and said, 'May. Bring May!' + +May heard the mention of her name, and coming quietly towards her, +touched her on the arm. The Blind Girl turned immediately, and +held her by both hands. + +'Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!' said Bertha. 'Read +it with your beautiful eyes, and tell me if the truth is written on +it.' + +'Dear Bertha, Yes!' + +The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless face, down +which the tears were coursing fast, addressed her in these words: + +'There is not, in my soul, a wish or thought that is not for your +good, bright May! There is not, in my soul, a grateful +recollection stronger than the deep remembrance which is stored +there, of the many many times when, in the full pride of sight and +beauty, you have had consideration for Blind Bertha, even when we +two were children, or when Bertha was as much a child as ever +blindness can be! Every blessing on your head! Light upon your +happy course! Not the less, my dear May;' and she drew towards +her, in a closer grasp; 'not the less, my bird, because, to-day, +the knowledge that you are to be His wife has wrung my heart almost +to breaking! Father, May, Mary! oh forgive me that it is so, for +the sake of all he has done to relieve the weariness of my dark +life: and for the sake of the belief you have in me, when I call +Heaven to witness that I could not wish him married to a wife more +worthy of his goodness!' + +While speaking, she had released May Fielding's hands, and clasped +her garments in an attitude of mingled supplication and love. +Sinking lower and lower down, as she proceeded in her strange +confession, she dropped at last at the feet of her friend, and hid +her blind face in the folds of her dress. + +'Great Power!' exclaimed her father, smitten at one blow with the +truth, 'have I deceived her from the cradle, but to break her heart +at last!' + +It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, useful, busy +little Dot--for such she was, whatever faults she had, and however +you may learn to hate her, in good time--it was well for all of +them, I say, that she was there: or where this would have ended, +it were hard to tell. But Dot, recovering her self-possession, +interposed, before May could reply, or Caleb say another word. + +'Come, come, dear Bertha! come away with me! Give her your arm, +May. So! How composed she is, you see, already; and how good it +is of her to mind us,' said the cheery little woman, kissing her +upon the forehead. 'Come away, dear Bertha. Come! and here's her +good father will come with her; won't you, Caleb? To--be--sure!' + +Well, well! she was a noble little Dot in such things, and it must +have been an obdurate nature that could have withstood her +influence. When she had got poor Caleb and his Bertha away, that +they might comfort and console each other, as she knew they only +could, she presently came bouncing back,--the saying is, as fresh +as any daisy; I say fresher--to mount guard over that bridling +little piece of consequence in the cap and gloves, and prevent the +dear old creature from making discoveries. + +'So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly,' said she, drawing a chair +to the fire; 'and while I have it in my lap, here's Mrs. Fielding, +Tilly, will tell me all about the management of Babies, and put me +right in twenty points where I'm as wrong as can be. Won't you, +Mrs. Fielding?' + +Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the popular expression, +was so 'slow' as to perform a fatal surgical operation upon +himself, in emulation of a juggling-trick achieved by his arch- +enemy at breakfast-time; not even he fell half so readily into the +snare prepared for him, as the old lady did into this artful +pitfall. The fact of Tackleton having walked out; and furthermore, +of two or three people having been talking together at a distance, +for two minutes, leaving her to her own resources; was quite enough +to have put her on her dignity, and the bewailment of that +mysterious convulsion in the Indigo trade, for four-and-twenty +hours. But this becoming deference to her experience, on the part +of the young mother, was so irresistible, that after a short +affectation of humility, she began to enlighten her with the best +grace in the world; and sitting bolt upright before the wicked Dot, +she did, in half an hour, deliver more infallible domestic recipes +and precepts, than would (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and +done up that Young Peerybingle, though he had been an Infant +Samson. + +To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework--she carried the +contents of a whole workbox in her pocket; however she contrived +it, I don't know--then did a little nursing; then a little more +needlework; then had a little whispering chat with May, while the +old lady dozed; and so in little bits of bustle, which was quite +her manner always, found it a very short afternoon. Then, as it +grew dark, and as it was a solemn part of this Institution of the +Pic-Nic that she should perform all Bertha's household tasks, she +trimmed the fire, and swept the hearth, and set the tea-board out, +and drew the curtain, and lighted a candle. Then she played an air +or two on a rude kind of harp, which Caleb had contrived for +Bertha, and played them very well; for Nature had made her delicate +little ear as choice a one for music as it would have been for +jewels, if she had had any to wear. By this time it was the +established hour for having tea; and Tackleton came back again, to +share the meal, and spend the evening. + +Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and Caleb had sat +down to his afternoon's work. But he couldn't settle to it, poor +fellow, being anxious and remorseful for his daughter. It was +touching to see him sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding +her so wistfully, and always saying in his face, 'Have I deceived +her from her cradle, but to break her heart!' + +When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had nothing more to do +in washing up the cups and saucers; in a word--for I must come to +it, and there is no use in putting it off--when the time drew nigh +for expecting the Carrier's return in every sound of distant +wheels, her manner changed again, her colour came and went, and she +was very restless. Not as good wives are, when listening for their +husbands. No, no, no. It was another sort of restlessness from +that. + +Wheels heard. A horse's feet. The barking of a dog. The gradual +approach of all the sounds. The scratching paw of Boxer at the +door! + +'Whose step is that!' cried Bertha, starting up. + +'Whose step?' returned the Carrier, standing in the portal, with +his brown face ruddy as a winter berry from the keen night air. +'Why, mine.' + +'The other step,' said Bertha. 'The man's tread behind you!' + +'She is not to be deceived,' observed the Carrier, laughing. 'Come +along, sir. You'll be welcome, never fear!' + +He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the deaf old gentleman +entered. + +'He's not so much a stranger, that you haven't seen him once, +Caleb,' said the Carrier. 'You'll give him house-room till we go?' + +'Oh surely, John, and take it as an honour.' + +'He's the best company on earth, to talk secrets in,' said John. +'I have reasonable good lungs, but he tries 'em, I can tell you. +Sit down, sir. All friends here, and glad to see you!' + +When he had imparted this assurance, in a voice that amply +corroborated what he had said about his lungs, he added in his +natural tone, 'A chair in the chimney-corner, and leave to sit +quite silent and look pleasantly about him, is all he cares for. +He's easily pleased.' + +Bertha had been listening intently. She called Caleb to her side, +when he had set the chair, and asked him, in a low voice, to +describe their visitor. When he had done so (truly now; with +scrupulous fidelity), she moved, for the first time since he had +come in, and sighed, and seemed to have no further interest +concerning him. + +The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that he was, and +fonder of his little wife than ever. + +'A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!' he said, encircling her +with his rough arm, as she stood, removed from the rest; 'and yet I +like her somehow. See yonder, Dot!' + +He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I think she trembled. + +'He's--ha ha ha!--he's full of admiration for you!' said the +Carrier. 'Talked of nothing else, the whole way here. Why, he's a +brave old boy. I like him for it!' + +'I wish he had had a better subject, John,' she said, with an +uneasy glance about the room. At Tackleton especially. + +'A better subject!' cried the jovial John. 'There's no such thing. +Come, off with the great-coat, off with the thick shawl, off with +the heavy wrappers! and a cosy half-hour by the fire! My humble +service, Mistress. A game at cribbage, you and I? That's hearty. +The cards and board, Dot. And a glass of beer here, if there's any +left, small wife!' + +His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who accepting it with +gracious readiness, they were soon engaged upon the game. At +first, the Carrier looked about him sometimes, with a smile, or now +and then called Dot to peep over his shoulder at his hand, and +advise him on some knotty point. But his adversary being a rigid +disciplinarian, and subject to an occasional weakness in respect of +pegging more than she was entitled to, required such vigilance on +his part, as left him neither eyes nor ears to spare. Thus, his +whole attention gradually became absorbed upon the cards; and he +thought of nothing else, until a hand upon his shoulder restored +him to a consciousness of Tackleton. + +'I am sorry to disturb you--but a word, directly.' + +'I'm going to deal,' returned the Carrier. 'It's a crisis.' + +'It is,' said Tackleton. 'Come here, man!' + +There was that in his pale face which made the other rise +immediately, and ask him, in a hurry, what the matter was. + +'Hush! John Peerybingle,' said Tackleton. 'I am sorry for this. +I am indeed. I have been afraid of it. I have suspected it from +the first.' + +'What is it?' asked the Carrier, with a frightened aspect. + +'Hush! I'll show you, if you'll come with me.' + +The Carrier accompanied him, without another word. They went +across a yard, where the stars were shining, and by a little side- +door, into Tackleton's own counting-house, where there was a glass +window, commanding the ware-room, which was closed for the night. +There was no light in the counting-house itself, but there were +lamps in the long narrow ware-room; and consequently the window was +bright. + +'A moment!' said Tackleton. 'Can you bear to look through that +window, do you think?' + +'Why not?' returned the Carrier. + +'A moment more,' said Tackleton. 'Don't commit any violence. It's +of no use. It's dangerous too. You're a strong-made man; and you +might do murder before you know it.' + +The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a step as if he +had been struck. In one stride he was at the window, and he saw - + +Oh Shadow on the Hearth! Oh truthful Cricket! Oh perfidious Wife! + +He saw her, with the old man--old no longer, but erect and gallant- +-bearing in his hand the false white hair that had won his way into +their desolate and miserable home. He saw her listening to him, as +he bent his head to whisper in her ear; and suffering him to clasp +her round the waist, as they moved slowly down the dim wooden +gallery towards the door by which they had entered it. He saw them +stop, and saw her turn--to have the face, the face he loved so, so +presented to his view!--and saw her, with her own hands, adjust the +lie upon his head, laughing, as she did it, at his unsuspicious +nature! + +He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it would have +beaten down a lion. But opening it immediately again, he spread it +out before the eyes of Tackleton (for he was tender of her, even +then), and so, as they passed out, fell down upon a desk, and was +as weak as any infant. + +He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his horse and parcels, +when she came into the room, prepared for going home. + +'Now, John, dear! Good night, May! Good night, Bertha!' + +Could she kiss them? Could she be blithe and cheerful in her +parting? Could she venture to reveal her face to them without a +blush? Yes. Tackleton observed her closely, and she did all this. + +Tilly was hushing the Baby, and she crossed and re-crossed +Tackleton, a dozen times, repeating drowsily: + +'Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, then, wring its +hearts almost to breaking; and did its fathers deceive it from its +cradles but to break its hearts at last!' + +'Now, Tilly, give me the Baby! Good night, Mr. Tackleton. Where's +John, for goodness' sake?' + +'He's going to walk beside the horse's head,' said Tackleton; who +helped her to her seat. + +'My dear John. Walk? To-night?' + +The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty sign in the +affirmative; and the false stranger and the little nurse being in +their places, the old horse moved off. Boxer, the unconscious +Boxer, running on before, running back, running round and round the +cart, and barking as triumphantly and merrily as ever. + +When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting May and her mother +home, poor Caleb sat down by the fire beside his daughter; anxious +and remorseful at the core; and still saying in his wistful +contemplation of her, 'Have I deceived her from her cradle, but to +break her heart at last!' + +The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, had all stopped, +and run down, long ago. In the faint light and silence, the +imperturbably calm dolls, the agitated rocking-horses with +distended eyes and nostrils, the old gentlemen at the street-doors, +standing half doubled up upon their failing knees and ankles, the +wry-faced nut-crackers, the very Beasts upon their way into the +Ark, in twos, like a Boarding School out walking, might have been +imagined to be stricken motionless with fantastic wonder, at Dot +being false, or Tackleton beloved, under any combination of +circumstances. + + + +CHAPTER III--Chirp the Third + + + +The Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the Carrier sat down +by his fireside. So troubled and grief-worn, that he seemed to +scare the Cuckoo, who, having cut his ten melodious announcements +as short as possible, plunged back into the Moorish Palace again, +and clapped his little door behind him, as if the unwonted +spectacle were too much for his feelings. + +If the little Haymaker had been armed with the sharpest of scythes, +and had cut at every stroke into the Carrier's heart, he never +could have gashed and wounded it, as Dot had done. + +It was a heart so full of love for her; so bound up and held +together by innumerable threads of winning remembrance, spun from +the daily working of her many qualities of endearment; it was a +heart in which she had enshrined herself so gently and so closely; +a heart so single and so earnest in its Truth, so strong in right, +so weak in wrong; that it could cherish neither passion nor revenge +at first, and had only room to hold the broken image of its Idol. + +But, slowly, slowly, as the Carrier sat brooding on his hearth, now +cold and dark, other and fiercer thoughts began to rise within him, +as an angry wind comes rising in the night. The Stranger was +beneath his outraged roof. Three steps would take him to his +chamber-door. One blow would beat it in. 'You might do murder +before you know it,' Tackleton had said. How could it be murder, +if he gave the villain time to grapple with him hand to hand! He +was the younger man. + +It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood of his mind. It +was an angry thought, goading him to some avenging act, that should +change the cheerful house into a haunted place which lonely +travellers would dread to pass by night; and where the timid would +see shadows struggling in the ruined windows when the moon was dim, +and hear wild noises in the stormy weather. + +He was the younger man! Yes, yes; some lover who had won the heart +that HE had never touched. Some lover of her early choice, of whom +she had thought and dreamed, for whom she had pined and pined, when +he had fancied her so happy by his side. O agony to think of it! + +She had been above-stairs with the Baby, getting it to bed. As he +sat brooding on the hearth, she came close beside him, without his +knowledge--in the turning of the rack of his great misery, he lost +all other sounds--and put her little stool at his feet. He only +knew it, when he felt her hand upon his own, and saw her looking up +into his face. + +With wonder? No. It was his first impression, and he was fain to +look at her again, to set it right. No, not with wonder. With an +eager and inquiring look; but not with wonder. At first it was +alarmed and serious; then, it changed into a strange, wild, +dreadful smile of recognition of his thoughts; then, there was +nothing but her clasped hands on her brow, and her bent head, and +falling hair. + +Though the power of Omnipotence had been his to wield at that +moment, he had too much of its diviner property of Mercy in his +breast, to have turned one feather's weight of it against her. But +he could not bear to see her crouching down upon the little seat +where he had often looked on her, with love and pride, so innocent +and gay; and, when she rose and left him, sobbing as she went, he +felt it a relief to have the vacant place beside him rather than +her so long-cherished presence. This in itself was anguish keener +than all, reminding him how desolate he was become, and how the +great bond of his life was rent asunder. + +The more he felt this, and the more he knew he could have better +borne to see her lying prematurely dead before him with their +little child upon her breast, the higher and the stronger rose his +wrath against his enemy. He looked about him for a weapon. + +There was a gun, hanging on the wall. He took it down, and moved a +pace or two towards the door of the perfidious Stranger's room. He +knew the gun was loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was just to +shoot this man like a wild beast, seized him, and dilated in his +mind until it grew into a monstrous demon in complete possession of +him, casting out all milder thoughts and setting up its undivided +empire. + +That phrase is wrong. Not casting out his milder thoughts, but +artfully transforming them. Changing them into scourges to drive +him on. Turning water into blood, love into hate, gentleness into +blind ferocity. Her image, sorrowing, humbled, but still pleading +to his tenderness and mercy with resistless power, never left his +mind; but, staying there, it urged him to the door; raised the +weapon to his shoulder; fitted and nerved his finger to the +trigger; and cried 'Kill him! In his bed!' + +He reversed the gun to beat the stock up the door; he already held +it lifted in the air; some indistinct design was in his thoughts of +calling out to him to fly, for God's sake, by the window - + +When, suddenly, the struggling fire illumined the whole chimney +with a glow of light; and the Cricket on the Hearth began to Chirp! + +No sound he could have heard, no human voice, not even hers, could +so have moved and softened him. The artless words in which she had +told him of her love for this same Cricket, were once more freshly +spoken; her trembling, earnest manner at the moment, was again +before him; her pleasant voice--O what a voice it was, for making +household music at the fireside of an honest man!--thrilled through +and through his better nature, and awoke it into life and action. + +He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his sleep, +awakened from a frightful dream; and put the gun aside. Clasping +his hands before his face, he then sat down again beside the fire, +and found relief in tears. + +The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, and stood in +Fairy shape before him. + +'"I love it,"' said the Fairy Voice, repeating what he well +remembered, '"for the many times I have heard it, and the many +thoughts its harmless music has given me."' + +'She said so!' cried the Carrier. 'True!' + +'"This has been a happy home, John; and I love the Cricket for its +sake!"' + +'It has been, Heaven knows,' returned the Carrier. 'She made it +happy, always,--until now.' + +'So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, busy, and +light-hearted!' said the Voice. + +'Otherwise I never could have loved her as I did,' returned the +Carrier. + +The Voice, correcting him, said 'do.' + +The Carrier repeated 'as I did.' But not firmly. His faltering +tongue resisted his control, and would speak in its own way, for +itself and him. + +The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its hand and said: + +'Upon your own hearth--' + +'The hearth she has blighted,' interposed the Carrier. + +'The hearth she has--how often!--blessed and brightened,' said the +Cricket; 'the hearth which, but for her, were only a few stones and +bricks and rusty bars, but which has been, through her, the Altar +of your Home; on which you have nightly sacrificed some petty +passion, selfishness, or care, and offered up the homage of a +tranquil mind, a trusting nature, and an overflowing heart; so that +the smoke from this poor chimney has gone upward with a better +fragrance than the richest incense that is burnt before the richest +shrines in all the gaudy temples of this world!--Upon your own +hearth; in its quiet sanctuary; surrounded by its gentle influences +and associations; hear her! Hear me! Hear everything that speaks +the language of your hearth and home!' + +'And pleads for her?' inquired the Carrier. + +'All things that speak the language of your hearth and home, must +plead for her!' returned the Cricket. 'For they speak the truth.' + +And while the Carrier, with his head upon his hands, continued to +sit meditating in his chair, the Presence stood beside him, +suggesting his reflections by its power, and presenting them before +him, as in a glass or picture. It was not a solitary Presence. +From the hearthstone, from the chimney, from the clock, the pipe, +the kettle, and the cradle; from the floor, the walls, the ceiling, +and the stairs; from the cart without, and the cupboard within, and +the household implements; from every thing and every place with +which she had ever been familiar, and with which she had ever +entwined one recollection of herself in her unhappy husband's mind; +Fairies came trooping forth. Not to stand beside him as the +Cricket did, but to busy and bestir themselves. To do all honour +to her image. To pull him by the skirts, and point to it when it +appeared. To cluster round it, and embrace it, and strew flowers +for it to tread on. To try to crown its fair head with their tiny +hands. To show that they were fond of it and loved it; and that +there was not one ugly, wicked or accusatory creature to claim +knowledge of it--none but their playful and approving selves. + +His thoughts were constant to her image. It was always there. + +She sat plying her needle, before the fire, and singing to herself. +Such a blithe, thriving, steady little Dot! The fairy figures +turned upon him all at once, by one consent, with one prodigious +concentrated stare, and seemed to say, 'Is this the light wife you +are mourning for!' + +There were sounds of gaiety outside, musical instruments, and noisy +tongues, and laughter. A crowd of young merry-makers came pouring +in, among whom were May Fielding and a score of pretty girls. Dot +was the fairest of them all; as young as any of them too. They +came to summon her to join their party. It was a dance. If ever +little foot were made for dancing, hers was, surely. But she +laughed, and shook her head, and pointed to her cookery on the +fire, and her table ready spread: with an exulting defiance that +rendered her more charming than she was before. And so she merrily +dismissed them, nodding to her would-be partners, one by one, as +they passed, but with a comical indifference, enough to make them +go and drown themselves immediately if they were her admirers--and +they must have been so, more or less; they couldn't help it. And +yet indifference was not her character. O no! For presently, +there came a certain Carrier to the door; and bless her what a +welcome she bestowed upon him! + +Again the staring figures turned upon him all at once, and seemed +to say, 'Is this the wife who has forsaken you!' + +A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture: call it what you +will. A great shadow of the Stranger, as he first stood underneath +their roof; covering its surface, and blotting out all other +objects. But the nimble Fairies worked like bees to clear it off +again. And Dot again was there. Still bright and beautiful. + +Rocking her little Baby in its cradle, singing to it softly, and +resting her head upon a shoulder which had its counterpart in the +musing figure by which the Fairy Cricket stood. + +The night--I mean the real night: not going by Fairy clocks--was +wearing now; and in this stage of the Carrier's thoughts, the moon +burst out, and shone brightly in the sky. Perhaps some calm and +quiet light had risen also, in his mind; and he could think more +soberly of what had happened. + +Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals upon the +glass--always distinct, and big, and thoroughly defined--it never +fell so darkly as at first. Whenever it appeared, the Fairies +uttered a general cry of consternation, and plied their little arms +and legs, with inconceivable activity, to rub it out. And whenever +they got at Dot again, and showed her to him once more, bright and +beautiful, they cheered in the most inspiring manner. + +They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful and bright, for +they were Household Spirits to whom falsehood is annihilation; and +being so, what Dot was there for them, but the one active, beaming, +pleasant little creature who had been the light and sun of the +Carrier's Home! + +The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they showed her, with +the Baby, gossiping among a knot of sage old matrons, and affecting +to be wondrous old and matronly herself, and leaning in a staid, +demure old way upon her husband's arm, attempting--she! such a bud +of a little woman--to convey the idea of having abjured the +vanities of the world in general, and of being the sort of person +to whom it was no novelty at all to be a mother; yet in the same +breath, they showed her, laughing at the Carrier for being awkward, +and pulling up his shirt-collar to make him smart, and mincing +merrily about that very room to teach him how to dance! + +They turned, and stared immensely at him when they showed her with +the Blind Girl; for, though she carried cheerfulness and animation +with her wheresoever she went, she bore those influences into Caleb +Plummer's home, heaped up and running over. The Blind Girl's love +for her, and trust in her, and gratitude to her; her own good busy +way of setting Bertha's thanks aside; her dexterous little arts for +filling up each moment of the visit in doing something useful to +the house, and really working hard while feigning to make holiday; +her bountiful provision of those standing delicacies, the Veal and +Ham-Pie and the bottles of Beer; her radiant little face arriving +at the door, and taking leave; the wonderful expression in her +whole self, from her neat foot to the crown of her head, of being a +part of the establishment--a something necessary to it, which it +couldn't be without; all this the Fairies revelled in, and loved +her for. And once again they looked upon him all at once, +appealingly, and seemed to say, while some among them nestled in +her dress and fondled her, 'Is this the wife who has betrayed your +confidence!' + +More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long thoughtful night, +they showed her to him sitting on her favourite seat, with her bent +head, her hands clasped on her brow, her falling hair. As he had +seen her last. And when they found her thus, they neither turned +nor looked upon him, but gathered close round her, and comforted +and kissed her, and pressed on one another to show sympathy and +kindness to her, and forgot him altogether. + +Thus the night passed. The moon went down; the stars grew pale; +the cold day broke; the sun rose. The Carrier still sat, musing, +in the chimney corner. He had sat there, with his head upon his +hands, all night. All night the faithful Cricket had been Chirp, +Chirp, Chirping on the Hearth. All night he had listened to its +voice. All night the household Fairies had been busy with him. +All night she had been amiable and blameless in the glass, except +when that one shadow fell upon it. + +He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and dressed himself. +He couldn't go about his customary cheerful avocations--he wanted +spirit for them--but it mattered the less, that it was Tackleton's +wedding-day, and he had arranged to make his rounds by proxy. He +thought to have gone merrily to church with Dot. But such plans +were at an end. It was their own wedding-day too. Ah! how little +he had looked for such a close to such a year! + +The Carrier had expected that Tackleton would pay him an early +visit; and he was right. He had not walked to and fro before his +own door, many minutes, when he saw the Toy-merchant coming in his +chaise along the road. As the chaise drew nearer, he perceived +that Tackleton was dressed out sprucely for his marriage, and that +he had decorated his horse's head with flowers and favours. + +The horse looked much more like a bridegroom than Tackleton, whose +half-closed eye was more disagreeably expressive than ever. But +the Carrier took little heed of this. His thoughts had other +occupation. + +'John Peerybingle!' said Tackleton, with an air of condolence. 'My +good fellow, how do you find yourself this morning?' + +'I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton,' returned the +Carrier, shaking his head: 'for I have been a good deal disturbed +in my mind. But it's over now! Can you spare me half an hour or +so, for some private talk?' + +'I came on purpose,' returned Tackleton, alighting. 'Never mind +the horse. He'll stand quiet enough, with the reins over this +post, if you'll give him a mouthful of hay.' + +The Carrier having brought it from his stable, and set it before +him, they turned into the house. + +'You are not married before noon,' he said, 'I think?' + +'No,' answered Tackleton. 'Plenty of time. Plenty of time.' + +When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was rapping at the +Stranger's door; which was only removed from it by a few steps. +One of her very red eyes (for Tilly had been crying all night long, +because her mistress cried) was at the keyhole; and she was +knocking very loud; and seemed frightened. + +'If you please I can't make nobody hear,' said Tilly, looking +round. 'I hope nobody an't gone and been and died if you please!' + +This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy emphasised with various new +raps and kicks at the door; which led to no result whatever. + +'Shall I go?' said Tackleton. 'It's curious.' + +The Carrier, who had turned his face from the door, signed to him +to go if he would. + +So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy's relief; and he too kicked and +knocked; and he too failed to get the least reply. But he thought +of trying the handle of the door; and as it opened easily, he +peeped in, looked in, went in, and soon came running out again. + +'John Peerybingle,' said Tackleton, in his ear. 'I hope there has +been nothing--nothing rash in the night?' + +The Carrier turned upon him quickly. + +'Because he's gone!' said Tackleton; 'and the window's open. I +don't see any marks--to be sure it's almost on a level with the +garden: but I was afraid there might have been some--some scuffle. +Eh?' + +He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at him +so hard. And he gave his eye, and his face, and his whole person, +a sharp twist. As if he would have screwed the truth out of him. + +'Make yourself easy,' said the Carrier. 'He went into that room +last night, without harm in word or deed from me, and no one has +entered it since. He is away of his own free will. I'd go out +gladly at that door, and beg my bread from house to house, for +life, if I could so change the past that he had never come. But he +has come and gone. And I have done with him!' + +'Oh!--Well, I think he has got off pretty easy,' said Tackleton, +taking a chair. + +The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down too, and shaded +his face with his hand, for some little time, before proceeding. + +'You showed me last night,' he said at length, 'my wife; my wife +that I love; secretly--' + +'And tenderly,' insinuated Tackleton. + +'Conniving at that man's disguise, and giving him opportunities of +meeting her alone. I think there's no sight I wouldn't have rather +seen than that. I think there's no man in the world I wouldn't +have rather had to show it me.' + +'I confess to having had my suspicions always,' said Tackleton. +'And that has made me objectionable here, I know.' + +'But as you did show it me,' pursued the Carrier, not minding him; +'and as you saw her, my wife, my wife that I love'--his voice, and +eye, and hand, grew steadier and firmer as he repeated these words: +evidently in pursuance of a steadfast purpose--'as you saw her at +this disadvantage, it is right and just that you should also see +with my eyes, and look into my breast, and know what my mind is, +upon the subject. For it's settled,' said the Carrier, regarding +him attentively. 'And nothing can shake it now.' + +Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, about its being +necessary to vindicate something or other; but he was overawed by +the manner of his companion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it +had a something dignified and noble in it, which nothing but the +soul of generous honour dwelling in the man could have imparted. + +'I am a plain, rough man,' pursued the Carrier, 'with very little +to recommend me. I am not a clever man, as you very well know. I +am not a young man. I loved my little Dot, because I had seen her +grow up, from a child, in her father's house; because I knew how +precious she was; because she had been my life, for years and +years. There's many men I can't compare with, who never could have +loved my little Dot like me, I think!' + +He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time with his foot, +before resuming. + +'I often thought that though I wasn't good enough for her, I should +make her a kind husband, and perhaps know her value better than +another; and in this way I reconciled it to myself, and came to +think it might be possible that we should be married. And in the +end it came about, and we were married.' + +'Hah!' said Tackleton, with a significant shake of the head. + +'I had studied myself; I had had experience of myself; I knew how +much I loved her, and how happy I should be,' pursued the Carrier. +'But I had not--I feel it now--sufficiently considered her.' + +'To be sure,' said Tackleton. 'Giddiness, frivolity, fickleness, +love of admiration! Not considered! All left out of sight! Hah!' + +'You had best not interrupt me,' said the Carrier, with some +sternness, 'till you understand me; and you're wide of doing so. +If, yesterday, I'd have struck that man down at a blow, who dared +to breathe a word against her, to-day I'd set my foot upon his +face, if he was my brother!' + +The Toy-merchant gazed at him in astonishment. He went on in a +softer tone: + +'Did I consider,' said the Carrier, 'that I took her--at her age, +and with her beauty--from her young companions, and the many scenes +of which she was the ornament; in which she was the brightest +little star that ever shone, to shut her up from day to day in my +dull house, and keep my tedious company? Did I consider how little +suited I was to her sprightly humour, and how wearisome a plodding +man like me must be, to one of her quick spirit? Did I consider +that it was no merit in me, or claim in me, that I loved her, when +everybody must, who knew her? Never. I took advantage of her +hopeful nature and her cheerful disposition; and I married her. I +wish I never had! For her sake; not for mine!' + +The Toy-merchant gazed at him, without winking. Even the half-shut +eye was open now. + +'Heaven bless her!' said the Carrier, 'for the cheerful constancy +with which she tried to keep the knowledge of this from me! And +Heaven help me, that, in my slow mind, I have not found it out +before! Poor child! Poor Dot! _I_ not to find it out, who have +seen her eyes fill with tears, when such a marriage as our own was +spoken of! I, who have seen the secret trembling on her lips a +hundred times, and never suspected it till last night! Poor girl! +That I could ever hope she would be fond of me! That I could ever +believe she was!' + +'She made a show of it,' said Tackleton. 'She made such a show of +it, that to tell you the truth it was the origin of my misgivings.' + +And here he asserted the superiority of May Fielding, who certainly +made no sort of show of being fond of HIM. + +'She has tried,' said the poor Carrier, with greater emotion than +he had exhibited yet; 'I only now begin to know how hard she has +tried, to be my dutiful and zealous wife. How good she has been; +how much she has done; how brave and strong a heart she has; let +the happiness I have known under this roof bear witness! It will +be some help and comfort to me, when I am here alone.' + +'Here alone?' said Tackleton. 'Oh! Then you do mean to take some +notice of this?' + +'I mean,' returned the Carrier, 'to do her the greatest kindness, +and make her the best reparation, in my power. I can release her +from the daily pain of an unequal marriage, and the struggle to +conceal it. She shall be as free as I can render her.' + +'Make HER reparation!' exclaimed Tackleton, twisting and turning +his great ears with his hands. 'There must be something wrong +here. You didn't say that, of course.' + +The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy-merchant, and +shook him like a reed. + +'Listen to me!' he said. 'And take care that you hear me right. +Listen to me. Do I speak plainly?' + +'Very plainly indeed,' answered Tackleton. + +'As if I meant it?' + +'Very much as if you meant it.' + +'I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night,' exclaimed the +Carrier. 'On the spot where she has often sat beside me, with her +sweet face looking into mine. I called up her whole life, day by +day. I had her dear self, in its every passage, in review before +me. And upon my soul she is innocent, if there is One to judge the +innocent and guilty!' + +Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household Fairies! + +'Passion and distrust have left me!' said the Carrier; 'and nothing +but my grief remains. In an unhappy moment some old lover, better +suited to her tastes and years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for me, +against her will; returned. In an unhappy moment, taken by +surprise, and wanting time to think of what she did, she made +herself a party to his treachery, by concealing it. Last night she +saw him, in the interview we witnessed. It was wrong. But +otherwise than this she is innocent if there is truth on earth!' + +'If that is your opinion'--Tackleton began. + +'So, let her go!' pursued the Carrier. 'Go, with my blessing for +the many happy hours she has given me, and my forgiveness for any +pang she has caused me. Let her go, and have the peace of mind I +wish her! She'll never hate me. She'll learn to like me better, +when I'm not a drag upon her, and she wears the chain I have +riveted, more lightly. This is the day on which I took her, with +so little thought for her enjoyment, from her home. To-day she +shall return to it, and I will trouble her no more. Her father and +mother will be here to-day--we had made a little plan for keeping +it together--and they shall take her home. I can trust her, there, +or anywhere. She leaves me without blame, and she will live so I +am sure. If I should die--I may perhaps while she is still young; +I have lost some courage in a few hours--she'll find that I +remembered her, and loved her to the last! This is the end of what +you showed me. Now, it's over!' + +'O no, John, not over. Do not say it's over yet! Not quite yet. +I have heard your noble words. I could not steal away, pretending +to be ignorant of what has affected me with such deep gratitude. +Do not say it's over, 'till the clock has struck again!' + +She had entered shortly after Tackleton, and had remained there. +She never looked at Tackleton, but fixed her eyes upon her husband. +But she kept away from him, setting as wide a space as possible +between them; and though she spoke with most impassioned +earnestness, she went no nearer to him even then. How different in +this from her old self! + +'No hand can make the clock which will strike again for me the +hours that are gone,' replied the Carrier, with a faint smile. +'But let it be so, if you will, my dear. It will strike soon. +It's of little matter what we say. I'd try to please you in a +harder case than that.' + +'Well!' muttered Tackleton. 'I must be off, for when the clock +strikes again, it'll be necessary for me to be upon my way to +church. Good morning, John Peerybingle. I'm sorry to be deprived +of the pleasure of your company. Sorry for the loss, and the +occasion of it too!' + +'I have spoken plainly?' said the Carrier, accompanying him to the +door. + +'Oh quite!' + +'And you'll remember what I have said?' + +'Why, if you compel me to make the observation,' said Tackleton, +previously taking the precaution of getting into his chaise; 'I +must say that it was so very unexpected, that I'm far from being +likely to forget it.' + +'The better for us both,' returned the Carrier. 'Good bye. I give +you joy!' + +'I wish I could give it to YOU,' said Tackleton. 'As I can't; +thank'ee. Between ourselves, (as I told you before, eh?) I don't +much think I shall have the less joy in my married life, because +May hasn't been too officious about me, and too demonstrative. +Good bye! Take care of yourself.' + +The Carrier stood looking after him until he was smaller in the +distance than his horse's flowers and favours near at hand; and +then, with a deep sigh, went strolling like a restless, broken man, +among some neighbouring elms; unwilling to return until the clock +was on the eve of striking. + +His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; but often +dried her eyes and checked herself, to say how good he was, how +excellent he was! and once or twice she laughed; so heartily, +triumphantly, and incoherently (still crying all the time), that +Tilly was quite horrified. + +'Ow if you please don't!' said Tilly. 'It's enough to dead and +bury the Baby, so it is if you please.' + +'Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, Tilly,' inquired +her mistress, drying her eyes; 'when I can't live here, and have +gone to my old home?' + +'Ow if you please don't!' cried Tilly, throwing back her head, and +bursting out into a howl--she looked at the moment uncommonly like +Boxer. 'Ow if you please don't! Ow, what has everybody gone and +been and done with everybody, making everybody else so wretched! +Ow-w-w-w!' + +The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, into such a +deplorable howl, the more tremendous from its long suppression, +that she must infallibly have awakened the Baby, and frightened him +into something serious (probably convulsions), if her eyes had not +encountered Caleb Plummer, leading in his daughter. This spectacle +restoring her to a sense of the proprieties, she stood for some few +moments silent, with her mouth wide open; and then, posting off to +the bed on which the Baby lay asleep, danced in a weird, Saint +Vitus manner on the floor, and at the same time rummaged with her +face and head among the bedclothes, apparently deriving much relief +from those extraordinary operations. + +'Mary!' said Bertha. 'Not at the marriage!' + +'I told her you would not be there, mum,' whispered Caleb. 'I +heard as much last night. But bless you,' said the little man, +taking her tenderly by both hands, 'I don't care for what they say. +I don't believe them. There an't much of me, but that little +should be torn to pieces sooner than I'd trust a word against you!' + +He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might have +hugged one of his own dolls. + +'Bertha couldn't stay at home this morning,' said Caleb. 'She was +afraid, I know, to hear the bells ring, and couldn't trust herself +to be so near them on their wedding-day. So we started in good +time, and came here. I have been thinking of what I have done,' +said Caleb, after a moment's pause; 'I have been blaming myself +till I hardly knew what to do or where to turn, for the distress of +mind I have caused her; and I've come to the conclusion that I'd +better, if you'll stay with me, mum, the while, tell her the truth. +You'll stay with me the while?' he inquired, trembling from head to +foot. 'I don't know what effect it may have upon her; I don't know +what she'll think of me; I don't know that she'll ever care for her +poor father afterwards. But it's best for her that she should be +undeceived, and I must bear the consequences as I deserve!' + +' Mary,' said Bertha, 'where is your hand! Ah! Here it is here it +is!' pressing it to her lips, with a smile, and drawing it through +her arm. 'I heard them speaking softly among themselves, last +night, of some blame against you. They were wrong.' + +The Carrier's Wife was silent. Caleb answered for her. + +'They were wrong,' he said. + +'I knew it!' cried Bertha, proudly. 'I told them so. I scorned to +hear a word! Blame HER with justice!' she pressed the hand between +her own, and the soft cheek against her face. 'No! I am not so +blind as that.' + +Her father went on one side of her, while Dot remained upon the +other: holding her hand. + +'I know you all,' said Bertha, 'better than you think. But none so +well as her. Not even you, father. There is nothing half so real +and so true about me, as she is. If I could be restored to sight +this instant, and not a word were spoken, I could choose her from a +crowd! My sister!' + +'Bertha, my dear!' said Caleb, 'I have something on my mind I want +to tell you, while we three are alone. Hear me kindly! I have a +confession to make to you, my darling.' + +'A confession, father?' + +'I have wandered from the truth and lost myself, my child,' said +Caleb, with a pitiable expression in his bewildered face. 'I have +wandered from the truth, intending to be kind to you; and have been +cruel.' + +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him, and repeated +'Cruel!' + +'He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha,' said Dot. 'You'll say +so, presently. You'll be the first to tell him so.' + +'He cruel to me!' cried Bertha, with a smile of incredulity. + +'Not meaning it, my child,' said Caleb. 'But I have been; though I +never suspected it, till yesterday. My dear blind daughter, hear +me and forgive me! The world you live in, heart of mine, doesn't +exist as I have represented it. The eyes you have trusted in, have +been false to you.' + +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him still; but drew +back, and clung closer to her friend. + +'Your road in life was rough, my poor one,' said Caleb, 'and I +meant to smooth it for you. I have altered objects, changed the +characters of people, invented many things that never have been, to +make you happier. I have had concealments from you, put deceptions +on you, God forgive me! and surrounded you with fancies.' + +'But living people are not fancies!' she said hurriedly, and +turning very pale, and still retiring from him. 'You can't change +them.' + +'I have done so, Bertha,' pleaded Caleb. 'There is one person that +you know, my dove--' + +'Oh father! why do you say, I know?' she answered, in a term of +keen reproach. 'What and whom do _I_ know! I who have no leader! +I so miserably blind.' + +In the anguish of her heart, she stretched out her hands, as if she +were groping her way; then spread them, in a manner most forlorn +and sad, upon her face. + +'The marriage that takes place to-day,' said Caleb, 'is with a +stern, sordid, grinding man. A hard master to you and me, my dear, +for many years. Ugly in his looks, and in his nature. Cold and +callous always. Unlike what I have painted him to you in +everything, my child. In everything.' + +'Oh why,' cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it seemed, almost +beyond endurance, 'why did you ever do this! Why did you ever fill +my heart so full, and then come in like Death, and tear away the +objects of my love! O Heaven, how blind I am! How helpless and +alone!' + +Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no reply but in his +penitence and sorrow. + +She had been but a short time in this passion of regret, when the +Cricket on the Hearth, unheard by all but her, began to chirp. Not +merrily, but in a low, faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful +that her tears began to flow; and when the Presence which had been +beside the Carrier all night, appeared behind her, pointing to her +father, they fell down like rain. + +She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was conscious, +through her blindness, of the Presence hovering about her father. + +'Mary,' said the Blind Girl, 'tell me what my home is. What it +truly is.' + +'It is a poor place, Bertha; very poor and bare indeed. The house +will scarcely keep out wind and rain another winter. It is as +roughly shielded from the weather, Bertha,' Dot continued in a low, +clear voice, 'as your poor father in his sack-cloth coat.' + +The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the Carrier's +little wife aside. + +'Those presents that I took such care of; that came almost at my +wish, and were so dearly welcome to me,' she said, trembling; +'where did they come from? Did you send them?' + +'No.' + +'Who then?' + +Dot saw she knew, already, and was silent. The Blind Girl spread +her hands before her face again. But in quite another manner now. + +'Dear Mary, a moment. One moment? More this way. Speak softly to +me. You are true, I know. You'd not deceive me now; would you?' + +'No, Bertha, indeed!' + +'No, I am sure you would not. You have too much pity for me. +Mary, look across the room to where we were just now--to where my +father is--my father, so compassionate and loving to me--and tell +me what you see.' + +'I see,' said Dot, who understood her well, 'an old man sitting in +a chair, and leaning sorrowfully on the back, with his face resting +on his hand. As if his child should comfort him, Bertha.' + +'Yes, yes. She will. Go on.' + +'He is an old man, worn with care and work. He is a spare, +dejected, thoughtful, grey-haired man. I see him now, despondent +and bowed down, and striving against nothing. But, Bertha, I have +seen him many times before, and striving hard in many ways for one +great sacred object. And I honour his grey head, and bless him!' + +The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing herself upon her +knees before him, took the grey head to her breast. + +'It is my sight restored. It is my sight!' she cried. 'I have +been blind, and now my eyes are open. I never knew him! To think +I might have died, and never truly seen the father who has been so +loving to me!' + +There were no words for Caleb's emotion. + +'There is not a gallant figure on this earth,' exclaimed the Blind +Girl, holding him in her embrace, 'that I would love so dearly, and +would cherish so devotedly, as this! The greyer, and more worn, +the dearer, father! Never let them say I am blind again. There's +not a furrow in his face, there's not a hair upon his head, that +shall be forgotten in my prayers and thanks to Heaven!' + +Caleb managed to articulate 'My Bertha!' + +'And in my blindness, I believed him,' said the girl, caressing him +with tears of exquisite affection, 'to be so different! And having +him beside me, day by day, so mindful of me--always, never dreamed +of this!' + +'The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha,' said poor Caleb. +'He's gone!' + +'Nothing is gone,' she answered. 'Dearest father, no! Everything +is here--in you. The father that I loved so well; the father that +I never loved enough, and never knew; the benefactor whom I first +began to reverence and love, because he had such sympathy for me; +All are here in you. Nothing is dead to me. The soul of all that +was most dear to me is here--here, with the worn face, and the grey +head. And I am NOT blind, father, any longer!' + +Dot's whole attention had been concentrated, during this discourse, +upon the father and daughter; but looking, now, towards the little +Haymaker in the Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within a +few minutes of striking, and fell, immediately, into a nervous and +excited state. + +'Father,' said Bertha, hesitating. 'Mary.' + +'Yes, my dear,' returned Caleb. 'Here she is.' + +'There is no change in HER. You never told me anything of HER that +was not true?' + +'I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid,' returned Caleb, 'if +I could have made her better than she was. But I must have changed +her for the worse, if I had changed her at all. Nothing could +improve her, Bertha.' + +Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked the question, +her delight and pride in the reply and her renewed embrace of Dot, +were charming to behold. + +'More changes than you think for, may happen though, my dear,' said +Dot. 'Changes for the better, I mean; changes for great joy to +some of us. You mustn't let them startle you too much, if any such +should ever happen, and affect you? Are those wheels upon the +road? You've a quick ear, Bertha. Are they wheels?' + +'Yes. Coming very fast.' + +'I--I--I know you have a quick ear,' said Dot, placing her hand +upon her heart, and evidently talking on, as fast as she could to +hide its palpitating state, 'because I have noticed it often, and +because you were so quick to find out that strange step last night. +Though why you should have said, as I very well recollect you did +say, Bertha, "Whose step is that!" and why you should have taken +any greater observation of it than of any other step, I don't know. +Though as I said just now, there are great changes in the world: +great changes: and we can't do better than prepare ourselves to be +surprised at hardly anything.' + +Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that she spoke to him, +no less than to his daughter. He saw her, with astonishment, so +fluttered and distressed that she could scarcely breathe; and +holding to a chair, to save herself from falling. + +'They are wheels indeed!' she panted. 'Coming nearer! Nearer! +Very close! And now you hear them stopping at the garden-gate! +And now you hear a step outside the door--the same step, Bertha, is +it not!--and now!' - + +She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; and running up to +Caleb put her hands upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the +room, and flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down +upon them. + +'Is it over?' cried Dot. + +'Yes!' + +'Happily over?' + +'Yes!' + +'Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the +like of it before?' cried Dot. + +'If my boy in the Golden South Americas was alive'--said Caleb, +trembling. + +'He is alive!' shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes, and +clapping them in ecstasy; 'look at him! See where he stands before +you, healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear living, +loving brother, Bertha + +All honour to the little creature for her transports! All honour +to her tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one +another's arms! All honour to the heartiness with which she met +the sunburnt sailor-fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half-way, +and never turned her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to +kiss it, freely, and to press her to his bounding heart! + +And honour to the Cuckoo too--why not!--for bursting out of the +trap-door in the Moorish Palace like a house-breaker, and +hiccoughing twelve times on the assembled company, as if he had got +drunk for joy! + +The Carrier, entering, started back. And well he might, to find +himself in such good company. + +'Look, John!' said Caleb, exultingly, 'look here! My own boy from +the Golden South Americas! My own son! Him that you fitted out, +and sent away yourself! Him that you were always such a friend +to!' + +The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, as +some feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf Man in +the Cart, said: + +'Edward! Was it you?' + +'Now tell him all!' cried Dot. 'Tell him all, Edward; and don't +spare me, for nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes, ever +again.' + +'I was the man,' said Edward. + +'And could you steal, disguised, into the house of your old +friend?' rejoined the Carrier. 'There was a frank boy once--how +many years is it, Caleb, since we heard that he was dead, and had +it proved, we thought?--who never would have done that.' + +'There was a generous friend of mine, once; more a father to me +than a friend;' said Edward, 'who never would have judged me, or +any other man, unheard. You were he. So I am certain you will +hear me now.' + +The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still kept far away +from him, replied, 'Well! that's but fair. I will.' + +'You must know that when I left here, a boy,' said Edward, 'I was +in love, and my love was returned. She was a very young girl, who +perhaps (you may tell me) didn't know her own mind. But I knew +mine, and I had a passion for her.' + +'You had!' exclaimed the Carrier. 'You!' + +'Indeed I had,' returned the other. 'And she returned it. I have +ever since believed she did, and now I am sure she did.' + +'Heaven help me!' said the Carrier. 'This is worse than all.' + +'Constant to her,' said Edward, 'and returning, full of hope, after +many hardships and perils, to redeem my part of our old contract, I +heard, twenty miles away, that she was false to me; that she had +forgotten me; and had bestowed herself upon another and a richer +man. I had no mind to reproach her; but I wished to see her, and +to prove beyond dispute that this was true. I hoped she might have +been forced into it, against her own desire and recollection. It +would be small comfort, but it would be some, I thought, and on I +came. That I might have the truth, the real truth; observing +freely for myself, and judging for myself, without obstruction on +the one hand, or presenting my own influence (if I had any) before +her, on the other; I dressed myself unlike myself--you know how; +and waited on the road--you know where. You had no suspicion of +me; neither had--had she,' pointing to Dot, 'until I whispered in +her ear at that fireside, and she so nearly betrayed me.' + +'But when she knew that Edward was alive, and had come back,' +sobbed Dot, now speaking for herself, as she had burned to do, all +through this narrative; 'and when she knew his purpose, she advised +him by all means to keep his secret close; for his old friend John +Peerybingle was much too open in his nature, and too clumsy in all +artifice--being a clumsy man in general,' said Dot, half laughing +and half crying--'to keep it for him. And when she--that's me, +John,' sobbed the little woman--'told him all, and how his +sweetheart had believed him to be dead; and how she had at last +been over-persuaded by her mother into a marriage which the silly, +dear old thing called advantageous; and when she--that's me again, +John--told him they were not yet married (though close upon it), +and that it would be nothing but a sacrifice if it went on, for +there was no love on her side; and when he went nearly mad with joy +to hear it; then she--that's me again--said she would go between +them, as she had often done before in old times, John, and would +sound his sweetheart and be sure that what she--me again, John-- +said and thought was right. And it was right, John! And they were +brought together, John! And they were married, John, an hour ago! +And here's the Bride! And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! +And I'm a happy little woman, May, God bless you!' + +She was an irresistible little woman, if that be anything to the +purpose; and never so completely irresistible as in her present +transports. There never were congratulations so endearing and +delicious, as those she lavished on herself and on the Bride. + +Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the honest Carrier had +stood, confounded. Flying, now, towards her, Dot stretched out her +hand to stop him, and retreated as before. + +'No, John, no! Hear all! Don't love me any more, John, till +you've heard every word I have to say. It was wrong to have a +secret from you, John. I'm very sorry. I didn't think it any +harm, till I came and sat down by you on the little stool last +night. But when I knew by what was written in your face, that you +had seen me walking in the gallery with Edward, and when I knew +what you thought, I felt how giddy and how wrong it was. But oh, +dear John, how could you, could you, think so!' + +Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peerybingle would have +caught her in his arms. But no; she wouldn't let him. + +'Don't love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! When I +was sad about this intended marriage, dear, it was because I +remembered May and Edward such young lovers; and knew that her +heart was far away from Tackleton. You believe that, now. Don't +you, John?' + +John was going to make another rush at this appeal; but she stopped +him again. + +'No; keep there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes +do, John, and call you clumsy and a dear old goose, and names of +that sort, it's because I love you, John, so well, and take such +pleasure in your ways, and wouldn't see you altered in the least +respect to have you made a King to-morrow.' + +'Hooroar!' said Caleb with unusual vigour. 'My opinion!' + +'And when I speak of people being middle-aged, and steady, John, +and pretend that we are a humdrum couple, going on in a jog-trot +sort of way, it's only because I'm such a silly little thing, John, +that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of Play with Baby, and all +that: and make believe.' + +She saw that he was coming; and stopped him again. But she was +very nearly too late. + +'No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! +What I want most to tell you, I have kept to the last. My dear, +good, generous John, when we were talking the other night about the +Cricket, I had it on my lips to say, that at first I did not love +you quite so dearly as I do now; that when I first came home here, +I was half afraid I mightn't learn to love you every bit as well as +I hoped and prayed I might--being so very young, John! But, dear +John, every day and hour I loved you more and more. And if I could +have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you say +this morning, would have made me. But I can't. All the affection +that I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, as you well +deserve, long, long ago, and I have no more left to give. Now, my +dear husband, take me to your heart again! That's my home, John; +and never, never think of sending me to any other!' + +You never will derive so much delight from seeing a glorious little +woman in the arms of a third party, as you would have felt if you +had seen Dot run into the Carrier's embrace. It was the most +complete, unmitigated, soul-fraught little piece of earnestness +that ever you beheld in all your days. + +You maybe sure the Carrier was in a state of perfect rapture; and +you may be sure Dot was likewise; and you may be sure they all +were, inclusive of Miss Slowboy, who wept copiously for joy, and +wishing to include her young charge in the general interchange of +congratulations, handed round the Baby to everybody in succession, +as if it were something to drink. + +But, now, the sound of wheels was heard again outside the door; and +somebody exclaimed that Gruff and Tackleton was coming back. +Speedily that worthy gentleman appeared, looking warm and +flustered. + +'Why, what the Devil's this, John Peerybingle!' said Tackleton. +'There's some mistake. I appointed Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at +the church, and I'll swear I passed her on the road, on her way +here. Oh! here she is! I beg your pardon, sir; I haven't the +pleasure of knowing you; but if you can do me the favour to spare +this young lady, she has rather a particular engagement this +morning.' + +'But I can't spare her,' returned Edward. 'I couldn't think of +it.' + +'What do you mean, you vagabond?' said Tackleton. + +'I mean, that as I can make allowance for your being vexed,' +returned the other, with a smile, 'I am as deaf to harsh discourse +this morning, as I was to all discourse last night.' + +The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and the start he gave! + +'I am sorry, sir,' said Edward, holding out May's left hand, and +especially the third finger; 'that the young lady can't accompany +you to church; but as she has been there once, this morning, +perhaps you'll excuse her.' + +Tackleton looked hard at the third finger, and took a little piece +of silver-paper, apparently containing a ring, from his waistcoat- +pocket. + +'Miss Slowboy,' said Tackleton. 'Will you have the kindness to +throw that in the fire? Thank'ee.' + +'It was a previous engagement, quite an old engagement, that +prevented my wife from keeping her appointment with you, I assure +you,' said Edward. + +'Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge that I +revealed it to him faithfully; and that I told him, many times, I +never could forget it,' said May, blushing. + +'Oh certainly!' said Tackleton. 'Oh to be sure. Oh it's all +right. It's quite correct. Mrs. Edward Plummer, I infer?' + +'That's the name,' returned the bridegroom. + +'Ah, I shouldn't have known you, sir,' said Tackleton, scrutinising +his face narrowly, and making a low bow. 'I give you joy, sir!' + +'Thank'ee.' + +'Mrs. Peerybingle,' said Tackleton, turning suddenly to where she +stood with her husband; 'I am sorry. You haven't done me a very +great kindness, but, upon my life I am sorry. You are better than +I thought you. John Peerybingle, I am sorry. You understand me; +that's enough. It's quite correct, ladies and gentlemen all, and +perfectly satisfactory. Good morning!' + +With these words he carried it off, and carried himself off too: +merely stopping at the door, to take the flowers and favours from +his horse's head, and to kick that animal once, in the ribs, as a +means of informing him that there was a screw loose in his +arrangements. + +Of course it became a serious duty now, to make such a day of it, +as should mark these events for a high Feast and Festival in the +Peerybingle Calendar for evermore. Accordingly, Dot went to work +to produce such an entertainment, as should reflect undying honour +on the house and on every one concerned; and in a very short space +of time, she was up to her dimpled elbows in flour, and whitening +the Carrier's coat, every time he came near her, by stopping him to +give him a kiss. That good fellow washed the greens, and peeled +the turnips, and broke the plates, and upset iron pots full of cold +water on the fire, and made himself useful in all sorts of ways: +while a couple of professional assistants, hastily called in from +somewhere in the neighbourhood, as on a point of life or death, ran +against each other in all the doorways and round all the corners, +and everybody tumbled over Tilly Slowboy and the Baby, everywhere. +Tilly never came out in such force before. Her ubiquity was the +theme of general admiration. She was a stumbling-block in the +passage at five-and-twenty minutes past two; a man-trap in the +kitchen at half-past two precisely; and a pitfall in the garret at +five-and-twenty minutes to three. The Baby's head was, as it were, +a test and touchstone for every description of matter,--animal, +vegetable, and mineral. Nothing was in use that day that didn't +come, at some time or other, into close acquaintance with it. + +Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go and find out +Mrs. Fielding; and to be dismally penitent to that excellent +gentlewoman; and to bring her back, by force, if needful, to be +happy and forgiving. And when the Expedition first discovered her, +she would listen to no terms at all, but said, an unspeakable +number of times, that ever she should have lived to see the day! +and couldn't be got to say anything else, except, 'Now carry me to +the grave:' which seemed absurd, on account of her not being dead, +or anything at all like it. After a time, she lapsed into a state +of dreadful calmness, and observed, that when that unfortunate +train of circumstances had occurred in the Indigo Trade, she had +foreseen that she would be exposed, during her whole life, to every +species of insult and contumely; and that she was glad to find it +was the case; and begged they wouldn't trouble themselves about +her,--for what was she? oh, dear! a nobody!--but would forget that +such a being lived, and would take their course in life without +her. From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she passed into an angry +one, in which she gave vent to the remarkable expression that the +worm would turn if trodden on; and, after that, she yielded to a +soft regret, and said, if they had only given her their confidence, +what might she not have had it in her power to suggest! Taking +advantage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition embraced +her; and she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her way to +John Peerybingle's in a state of unimpeachable gentility; with a +paper parcel at her side containing a cap of state, almost as tall, +and quite as stiff, as a mitre. + +Then, there were Dot's father and mother to come, in another little +chaise; and they were behind their time; and fears were +entertained; and there was much looking out for them down the road; +and Mrs. Fielding always would look in the wrong and morally +impossible direction; and being apprised thereof, hoped she might +take the liberty of looking where she pleased. At last they came: +a chubby little couple, jogging along in a snug and comfortable +little way that quite belonged to the Dot family; and Dot and her +mother, side by side, were wonderful to see. They were so like +each other. + +Then, Dot's mother had to renew her acquaintance with May's mother; +and May's mother always stood on her gentility; and Dot's mother +never stood on anything but her active little feet. And old Dot-- +so to call Dot's father, I forgot it wasn't his right name, but +never mind--took liberties, and shook hands at first sight, and +seemed to think a cap but so much starch and muslin, and didn't +defer himself at all to the Indigo Trade, but said there was no +help for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding's summing up, was a good- +natured kind of man--but coarse, my dear. + +I wouldn't have missed Dot, doing the honours in her wedding-gown, +my benison on her bright face! for any money. No! nor the good +Carrier, so jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. Nor +the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his handsome wife. Nor any one +among them. To have missed the dinner would have been to miss as +jolly and as stout a meal as man need eat; and to have missed the +overflowing cups in which they drank The Wedding-Day, would have +been the greatest miss of all. + +After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling Bowl. As I'm +a living man, hoping to keep so, for a year or two, he sang it +through. + +And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident occurred, just as he +finished the last verse. + +There was a tap at the door; and a man came staggering in, without +saying with your leave, or by your leave, with something heavy on +his head. Setting this down in the middle of the table, +symmetrically in the centre of the nuts and apples, he said: + +'Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and as he hasn't got no use for the +cake himself, p'raps you'll eat it.' + +And with those words, he walked off. + +There was some surprise among the company, as you may imagine. +Mrs. Fielding, being a lady of infinite discernment, suggested that +the cake was poisoned, and related a narrative of a cake, which, +within her knowledge, had turned a seminary for young ladies, blue. +But she was overruled by acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, +with much ceremony and rejoicing. + +I don't think any one had tasted it, when there came another tap at +the door, and the same man appeared again, having under his arm a +vast brown-paper parcel. + +'Mr. Tackleton's compliments, and he's sent a few toys for the +Babby. They ain't ugly.' + +After the delivery of which expressions, he retired again. + +The whole party would have experienced great difficulty in finding +words for their astonishment, even if they had had ample time to +seek them. But they had none at all; for the messenger had +scarcely shut the door behind him, when there came another tap, and +Tackleton himself walked in. + +'Mrs. Peerybingle!' said the Toy-merchant, hat in hand. 'I'm +sorry. I'm more sorry than I was this morning. I have had time to +think of it. John Peerybingle! I'm sour by disposition; but I +can't help being sweetened, more or less, by coming face to face +with such a man as you. Caleb! This unconscious little nurse gave +me a broken hint last night, of which I have found the thread. I +blush to think how easily I might have bound you and your daughter +to me, and what a miserable idiot I was, when I took her for one! +Friends, one and all, my house is very lonely to-night. I have not +so much as a Cricket on my Hearth. I have scared them all away. +Be gracious to me; let me join this happy party!' + +He was at home in five minutes. You never saw such a fellow. What +HAD he been doing with himself all his life, never to have known, +before, his great capacity of being jovial! Or what had the +Fairies been doing with him, to have effected such a change! + +'John! you won't send me home this evening; will you?' whispered +Dot. + +He had been very near it though! + +There wanted but one living creature to make the party complete; +and, in the twinkling of an eye, there he was, very thirsty with +hard running, and engaged in hopeless endeavours to squeeze his +head into a narrow pitcher. He had gone with the cart to its +journey's end, very much disgusted with the absence of his master, +and stupendously rebellious to the Deputy. After lingering about +the stable for some little time, vainly attempting to incite the +old horse to the mutinous act of returning on his own account, he +had walked into the tap-room and laid himself down before the fire. +But suddenly yielding to the conviction that the Deputy was a +humbug, and must be abandoned, he had got up again, turned tail, +and come home. + +There was a dance in the evening. With which general mention of +that recreation, I should have left it alone, if I had not some +reason to suppose that it was quite an original dance, and one of a +most uncommon figure. It was formed in an odd way; in this way. + +Edward, that sailor-fellow--a good free dashing sort of a fellow he +was--had been telling them various marvels concerning parrots, and +mines, and Mexicans, and gold dust, when all at once he took it in +his head to jump up from his seat and propose a dance; for Bertha's +harp was there, and she had such a hand upon it as you seldom hear. +Dot (sly little piece of affectation when she chose) said her +dancing days were over; _I_ think because the Carrier was smoking +his pipe, and she liked sitting by him, best. Mrs. Fielding had no +choice, of course, but to say HER dancing days were over, after +that; and everybody said the same, except May; May was ready. + +So, May and Edward got up, amid great applause, to dance alone; and +Bertha plays her liveliest tune. + +Well! if you'll believe me, they have not been dancing five +minutes, when suddenly the Carrier flings his pipe away, takes Dot +round the waist, dashes out into the room, and starts off with her, +toe and heel, quite wonderfully. Tackleton no sooner sees this, +than he skims across to Mrs. Fielding, takes her round the waist, +and follows suit. Old Dot no sooner sees this, than up he is, all +alive, whisks off Mrs. Dot in the middle of the dance, and is the +foremost there. Caleb no sooner sees this, than he clutches Tilly +Slowboy by both hands and goes off at score; Miss Slowboy, firm in +the belief that diving hotly in among the other couples, and +effecting any number of concussions with them, is your only +principle of footing it. + +Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp; +and how the kettle hums! + +* * * * * + +But what is this! Even as I listen to them, blithely, and turn +towards Dot, for one last glimpse of a little figure very pleasant +to me, she and the rest have vanished into air, and I am left +alone. A Cricket sings upon the Hearth; a broken child's-toy lies +upon the ground; and nothing else remains. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH *** + +This file should be named tcoth11.txt or tcoth11.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, tcoth12.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, tcoth10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/tcoth11.zip b/old/tcoth11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec6c13a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcoth11.zip diff --git a/old/tcoth11h.htm b/old/tcoth11h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bd05b0a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcoth11h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4116 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII"> +<title>The Cricket on the Hearth</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens +(#10 in our series by Charles Dickens) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Cricket on the Hearth + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Release Date: October, 1996 [EBook #678] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 1996] +[Most recently updated: September 8, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p> +<a name="startoftext"></a> +Transcribed from the Charles Scribner’s Sons “Works of Charles +Dickens” edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER I - Chirp the First<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The kettle began it! Don’t tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle +said. I know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record +to the end of time that she couldn’t say which of them began it; +but, I say the kettle did. I ought to know, I hope! The +kettle began it, full five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock +in the corner, before the Cricket uttered a chirp.<br> +<br> +As if the clock hadn’t finished striking, and the convulsive little +Haymaker at the top of it, jerking away right and left with a scythe +in front of a Moorish Palace, hadn’t mowed down half an acre of +imaginary grass before the Cricket joined in at all!<br> +<br> +Why, I am not naturally positive. Every one knows that. +I wouldn’t set my own opinion against the opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, +unless I were quite sure, on any account whatever. Nothing should +induce me. But, this is a question of act. And the fact +is, that the kettle began it, at least five minutes before the Cricket +gave any sign of being in existence. Contradict me, and I’ll +say ten.<br> +<br> +Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should have proceeded +to do so in my very first word, but for this plain consideration - if +I am to tell a story I must begin at the beginning; and how is it possible +to begin at the beginning, without beginning at the kettle?<br> +<br> +It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of skill, you +must understand, between the kettle and the Cricket. And this +is what led to it, and how it came about.<br> +<br> +Mrs. Peerybingle, going out into the raw twilight, and clicking over +the wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked innumerable rough impressions +of the first proposition in Euclid all about the yard - Mrs. Peerybingle +filled the kettle at the water-butt. Presently returning, less +the pattens (and a good deal less, for they were tall and Mrs. Peerybingle +was but short), she set the kettle on the fire. In doing which +she lost her temper, or mislaid it for an instant; for, the water being +uncomfortably cold, and in that slippy, slushy, sleety sort of state +wherein it seems to penetrate through every kind of substance, patten +rings included - had laid hold of Mrs. Peerybingle’s toes, and +even splashed her legs. And when we rather plume ourselves (with +reason too) upon our legs, and keep ourselves particularly neat in point +of stockings, we find this, for the moment, hard to bear.<br> +<br> +Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn’t +allow itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn’t hear of +accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal; it <i>would</i> lean +forward with a drunken air, and dribble, a very Idiot of a kettle, on +the hearth. It was quarrelsome, and hissed and spluttered morosely +at the fire. To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle’s +fingers, first of all turned topsy-turvy, and then, with an ingenious +pertinacity deserving of a better cause, dived sideways in - down to +the very bottom of the kettle. And the hull of the Royal George +has never made half the monstrous resistance to coming out of the water, +which the lid of that kettle employed against Mrs. Peerybingle, before +she got it up again.<br> +<br> +It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then; carrying its handle +with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly and mockingly +at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, ‘I won’t boil. +Nothing shall induce me!’<br> +<br> +But Mrs. Peerybingle, with restored good humour, dusted her chubby little +hands against each other, and sat down before the kettle, laughing. +Meantime, the jolly blaze uprose and fell, flashing and gleaming on +the little Haymaker at the top of the Dutch clock, until one might have +thought he stood stock still before the Moorish Palace, and nothing +was in motion but the flame.<br> +<br> +He was on the move, however; and had his spasms, two to the second, +all right and regular. But, his sufferings when the clock was +going to strike, were frightful to behold; and, when a Cuckoo looked +out of a trap-door in the Palace, and gave note six times, it shook +him, each time, like a spectral voice - or like a something wiry, plucking +at his legs.<br> +<br> +It was not until a violent commotion and a whirring noise among the +weights and ropes below him had quite subsided, that this terrified +Haymaker became himself again. Nor was he startled without reason; +for these rattling, bony skeletons of clocks are very disconcerting +in their operation, and I wonder very much how any set of men, but most +of all how Dutchmen, can have had a liking to invent them. There +is a popular belief that Dutchmen love broad cases and much clothing +for their own lower selves; and they might know better than to leave +their clocks so very lank and unprotected, surely.<br> +<br> +Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the evening. +Now it was, that the kettle, growing mellow and musical, began to have +irrepressible gurglings in its throat, and to indulge in short vocal +snorts, which it checked in the bud, as if it hadn’t quite made +up its mind yet, to be good company. Now it was, that after two +or three such vain attempts to stifle its convivial sentiments, it threw +off all moroseness, all reserve, and burst into a stream of song so +cosy and hilarious, as never maudlin nightingale yet formed the least +idea of.<br> +<br> +So plain too! Bless you, you might have understood it like a book +- better than some books you and I could name, perhaps. With its +warm breath gushing forth in a light cloud which merrily and gracefully +ascended a few feet, then hung about the chimney-corner as its own domestic +Heaven, it trolled its song with that strong energy of cheerfulness, +that its iron body hummed and stirred upon the fire; and the lid itself, +the recently rebellious lid - such is the influence of a bright example +- performed a sort of jig, and clattered like a deaf and dumb young +cymbal that had never known the use of its twin brother.<br> +<br> +That this song of the kettle’s was a song of invitation and welcome +to somebody out of doors: to somebody at that moment coming on, towards +the snug small home and the crisp fire: there is no doubt whatever. +Mrs. Peerybingle knew it, perfectly, as she sat musing before the hearth. +It’s a dark night, sang the kettle, and the rotten leaves are +lying by the way; and, above, all is mist and darkness, and, below, +all is mire and clay; and there’s only one relief in all the sad +and murky air; and I don’t know that it is one, for it’s +nothing but a glare; of deep and angry crimson, where the sun and wind +together; set a brand upon the clouds for being guilty of such weather; +and the widest open country is a long dull streak of black; and there’s +hoar-frost on the finger-post, and thaw upon the track; and the ice +it isn’t water, and the water isn’t free; and you couldn’t +say that anything is what it ought to be; but he’s coming, coming, +coming! -<br> +<br> +And here, if you like, the Cricket DID chime in! with a Chirrup, Chirrup, +Chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus; with a voice so astoundingly +disproportionate to its size, as compared with the kettle; (size! you +couldn’t see it!) that if it had then and there burst itself like +an overcharged gun, if it had fallen a victim on the spot, and chirruped +its little body into fifty pieces, it would have seemed a natural and +inevitable consequence, for which it had expressly laboured.<br> +<br> +The kettle had had the last of its solo performance. It persevered +with undiminished ardour; but the Cricket took first fiddle and kept +it. Good Heaven, how it chirped! Its shrill, sharp, piercing +voice resounded through the house, and seemed to twinkle in the outer +darkness like a star. There was an indescribable little trill +and tremble in it, at its loudest, which suggested its being carried +off its legs, and made to leap again, by its own intense enthusiasm. +Yet they went very well together, the Cricket and the kettle. +The burden of the song was still the same; and louder, louder, louder +still, they sang it in their emulation.<br> +<br> +The fair little listener - for fair she was, and young: though something +of what is called the dumpling shape; but I don’t myself object +to that - lighted a candle, glanced at the Haymaker on the top of the +clock, who was getting in a pretty average crop of minutes; and looked +out of the window, where she saw nothing, owing to the darkness, but +her own face imaged in the glass. And my opinion is (and so would +yours have been), that she might have looked a long way, and seen nothing +half so agreeable. When she came back, and sat down in her former +seat, the Cricket and the kettle were still keeping it up, with a perfect +fury of competition. The kettle’s weak side clearly being, +that he didn’t know when he was beat.<br> +<br> +There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, +chirp! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! +Kettle making play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, +chirp! Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! +Kettle sticking to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, +chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum - +m - m! Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! +Cricket going in to finish him. Hum, hum, hum - m - m! Kettle +not to be finished. Until at last they got so jumbled together, +in the hurry-skurry, helter-skelter, of the match, that whether the +kettle chirped and the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket chirped and the +kettle hummed, or they both chirped and both hummed, it would have taken +a clearer head than yours or mine to have decided with anything like +certainty. But, of this, there is no doubt: that, the kettle and +the Cricket, at one and the same moment, and by some power of amalgamation +best known to themselves, sent, each, his fireside song of comfort streaming +into a ray of the candle that shone out through the window, and a long +way down the lane. And this light, bursting on a certain person +who, on the instant, approached towards it through the gloom, expressed +the whole thing to him, literally in a twinkling, and cried, ‘Welcome +home, old fellow! Welcome home, my boy!’<br> +<br> +This end attained, the kettle, being dead beat, boiled over, and was +taken off the fire. Mrs. Peerybingle then went running to the +door, where, what with the wheels of a cart, the tramp of a horse, the +voice of a man, the tearing in and out of an excited dog, and the surprising +and mysterious appearance of a baby, there was soon the very What’s-his-name +to pay.<br> +<br> +Where the baby came from, or how Mrs. Peerybingle got hold of it in +that flash of time, <i>I</i> don’t know. But a live baby +there was, in Mrs. Peerybingle’s arms; and a pretty tolerable +amount of pride she seemed to have in it, when she was drawn gently +to the fire, by a sturdy figure of a man, much taller and much older +than herself, who had to stoop a long way down, to kiss her. But +she was worth the trouble. Six foot six, with the lumbago, might +have done it.<br> +<br> +‘Oh goodness, John!’ said Mrs. P. ‘What a state +you are in with the weather!’<br> +<br> +He was something the worse for it, undeniably. The thick mist +hung in clots upon his eyelashes like candied thaw; and between the +fog and fire together, there were rainbows in his very whiskers.<br> +<br> +‘Why, you see, Dot,’ John made answer, slowly, as he unrolled +a shawl from about his throat; and warmed his hands; ‘it - it +an’t exactly summer weather. So, no wonder.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish you wouldn’t call me Dot, John. I don’t +like it,’ said Mrs. Peerybingle: pouting in a way that clearly +showed she <i>did</i> like it, very much.<br> +<br> +‘Why what else are you?’ returned John, looking down upon +her with a smile, and giving her waist as light a squeeze as his huge +hand and arm could give. ‘A dot and’ - here he glanced +at the baby - ‘a dot and carry - I won’t say it, for fear +I should spoil it; but I was very near a joke. I don’t know +as ever I was nearer.’<br> +<br> +He was often near to something or other very clever, by his own account: +this lumbering, slow, honest John; this John so heavy, but so light +of spirit; so rough upon the surface, but so gentle at the core; so +dull without, so quick within; so stolid, but so good! Oh Mother +Nature, give thy children the true poetry of heart that hid itself in +this poor Carrier’s breast - he was but a Carrier by the way - +and we can bear to have them talking prose, and leading lives of prose; +and bear to bless thee for their company!<br> +<br> +It was pleasant to see Dot, with her little figure, and her baby in +her arms: a very doll of a baby: glancing with a coquettish thoughtfulness +at the fire, and inclining her delicate little head just enough on one +side to let it rest in an odd, half-natural, half-affected, wholly nestling +and agreeable manner, on the great rugged figure of the Carrier. +It was pleasant to see him, with his tender awkwardness, endeavouring +to adapt his rude support to her slight need, and make his burly middle-age +a leaning-staff not inappropriate to her blooming youth. It was +pleasant to observe how Tilly Slowboy, waiting in the background for +the baby, took special cognizance (though in her earliest teens) of +this grouping; and stood with her mouth and eyes wide open, and her +head thrust forward, taking it in as if it were air. Nor was it +less agreeable to observe how John the Carrier, reference being made +by Dot to the aforesaid baby, checked his hand when on the point of +touching the infant, as if he thought he might crack it; and bending +down, surveyed it from a safe distance, with a kind of puzzled pride, +such as an amiable mastiff might be supposed to show, if he found himself, +one day, the father of a young canary.<br> +<br> +‘An’t he beautiful, John? Don’t he look precious +in his sleep?’<br> +<br> +‘Very precious,’ said John. ‘Very much so. +He generally <i>is</i> asleep, an’t he?’<br> +<br> +‘Lor, John! Good gracious no!’<br> +<br> +‘Oh,’ said John, pondering. ‘I thought his eyes +was generally shut. Halloa!’<br> +<br> +‘Goodness, John, how you startle one!’<br> +<br> +‘It an’t right for him to turn ’em up in that way!’ +said the astonished Carrier, ‘is it? See how he’s +winking with both of ’em at once! And look at his mouth! +Why he’s gasping like a gold and silver fish!’<br> +<br> +‘You don’t deserve to be a father, you don’t,’ +said Dot, with all the dignity of an experienced matron. ‘But +how should you know what little complaints children are troubled with, +John! You wouldn’t so much as know their names, you stupid +fellow.’ And when she had turned the baby over on her left +arm, and had slapped its back as a restorative, she pinched her husband’s +ear, laughing.<br> +<br> +‘No,’ said John, pulling off his outer coat. ‘It’s +very true, Dot. I don’t know much about it. I only +know that I’ve been fighting pretty stiffly with the wind to-night. +It’s been blowing north-east, straight into the cart, the whole +way home.’<br> +<br> +‘Poor old man, so it has!’ cried Mrs. Peerybingle, instantly +becoming very active. ‘Here! Take the precious darling, +Tilly, while I make myself of some use. Bless it, I could smother +it with kissing it, I could! Hie then, good dog! Hie, Boxer, +boy! Only let me make the tea first, John; and then I’ll +help you with the parcels, like a busy bee. “How doth the +little” - and all the rest of it, you know, John. Did you +ever learn “how doth the little,” when you went to school, +John?’<br> +<br> +‘Not to quite know it,’ John returned. ‘I was +very near it once. But I should only have spoilt it, I dare say.’<br> +<br> +‘Ha ha,’ laughed Dot. She had the blithest little +laugh you ever heard. ‘What a dear old darling of a dunce +you are, John, to be sure!’<br> +<br> +Not at all disputing this position, John went out to see that the boy +with the lantern, which had been dancing to and fro before the door +and window, like a Will of the Wisp, took due care of the horse; who +was fatter than you would quite believe, if I gave you his measure, +and so old that his birthday was lost in the mists of antiquity. +Boxer, feeling that his attentions were due to the family in general, +and must be impartially distributed, dashed in and out with bewildering +inconstancy; now, describing a circle of short barks round the horse, +where he was being rubbed down at the stable-door; now feigning to make +savage rushes at his mistress, and facetiously bringing himself to sudden +stops; now, eliciting a shriek from Tilly Slowboy, in the low nursing-chair +near the fire, by the unexpected application of his moist nose to her +countenance; now, exhibiting an obtrusive interest in the baby; now, +going round and round upon the hearth, and lying down as if he had established +himself for the night; now, getting up again, and taking that nothing +of a fag-end of a tail of his, out into the weather, as if he had just +remembered an appointment, and was off, at a round trot, to keep it.<br> +<br> +‘There! There’s the teapot, ready on the hob!’ +said Dot; as briskly busy as a child at play at keeping house. +‘And there’s the old knuckle of ham; and there’s the +butter; and there’s the crusty loaf, and all! Here’s +the clothes-basket for the small parcels, John, if you’ve got +any there - where are you, John?’<br> +<br> +‘Don’t let the dear child fall under the grate, Tilly, whatever +you do!’<br> +<br> +It may be noted of Miss Slowboy, in spite of her rejecting the caution +with some vivacity, that she had a rare and surprising talent for getting +this baby into difficulties and had several times imperilled its short +life, in a quiet way peculiarly her own. She was of a spare and +straight shape, this young lady, insomuch that her garments appeared +to be in constant danger of sliding off those sharp pegs, her shoulders, +on which they were loosely hung. Her costume was remarkable for +the partial development, on all possible occasions, of some flannel +vestment of a singular structure; also for affording glimpses, in the +region of the back, of a corset, or pair of stays, in colour a dead-green. +Being always in a state of gaping admiration at everything, and absorbed, +besides, in the perpetual contemplation of her mistress’s perfections +and the baby’s, Miss Slowboy, in her little errors of judgment, +may be said to have done equal honour to her head and to her heart; +and though these did less honour to the baby’s head, which they +were the occasional means of bringing into contact with deal doors, +dressers, stair-rails, bed-posts, and other foreign substances, still +they were the honest results of Tilly Slowboy’s constant astonishment +at finding herself so kindly treated, and installed in such a comfortable +home. For, the maternal and paternal Slowboy were alike unknown +to Fame, and Tilly had been bred by public charity, a foundling; which +word, though only differing from fondling by one vowel’s length, +is very different in meaning, and expresses quite another thing.<br> +<br> +To have seen little Mrs. Peerybingle come back with her husband, tugging +at the clothes-basket, and making the most strenuous exertions to do +nothing at all (for he carried it), would have amused you almost as +much as it amused him. It may have entertained the Cricket too, +for anything I know; but, certainly, it now began to chirp again, vehemently.<br> +<br> +‘Heyday!’ said John, in his slow way. ‘It’s +merrier than ever, to-night, I think.’<br> +<br> +‘And it’s sure to bring us good fortune, John! It +always has done so. To have a Cricket on the Hearth, is the luckiest +thing in all the world!’<br> +<br> +John looked at her as if he had very nearly got the thought into his +head, that she was his Cricket in chief, and he quite agreed with her. +But, it was probably one of his narrow escapes, for he said nothing.<br> +<br> +‘The first time I heard its cheerful little note, John, was on +that night when you brought me home - when you brought me to my new +home here; its little mistress. Nearly a year ago. You recollect, +John?’<br> +<br> +O yes. John remembered. I should think so!<br> +<br> +‘Its chirp was such a welcome to me! It seemed so full of +promise and encouragement. It seemed to say, you would be kind +and gentle with me, and would not expect (I had a fear of that, John, +then) to find an old head on the shoulders of your foolish little wife.’<br> +<br> +John thoughtfully patted one of the shoulders, and then the head, as +though he would have said No, no; he had had no such expectation; he +had been quite content to take them as they were. And really he +had reason. They were very comely.<br> +<br> +‘It spoke the truth, John, when it seemed to say so; for you have +ever been, I am sure, the best, the most considerate, the most affectionate +of husbands to me. This has been a happy home, John; and I love +the Cricket for its sake!’<br> +<br> +‘Why so do I then,’ said the Carrier. ‘So do +I, Dot.’<br> +<br> +‘I love it for the many times I have heard it, and the many thoughts +its harmless music has given me. Sometimes, in the twilight, when +I have felt a little solitary and down-hearted, John - before baby was +here to keep me company and make the house gay - when I have thought +how lonely you would be if I should die; how lonely I should be if I +could know that you had lost me, dear; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp upon +the hearth, has seemed to tell me of another little voice, so sweet, +so very dear to me, before whose coming sound my trouble vanished like +a dream. And when I used to fear - I did fear once, John, I was +very young you know - that ours might prove to be an ill-assorted marriage, +I being such a child, and you more like my guardian than my husband; +and that you might not, however hard you tried, be able to learn to +love me, as you hoped and prayed you might; its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp +has cheered me up again, and filled me with new trust and confidence. +I was thinking of these things to-night, dear, when I sat expecting +you; and I love the Cricket for their sake!’<br> +<br> +‘And so do I,’ repeated John. ‘But, Dot? +<i>I</i> hope and pray that I might learn to love you? How you +talk! I had learnt that, long before I brought you here, to be +the Cricket’s little mistress, Dot!’<br> +<br> +She laid her hand, an instant, on his arm, and looked up at him with +an agitated face, as if she would have told him something. Next +moment she was down upon her knees before the basket, speaking in a +sprightly voice, and busy with the parcels.<br> +<br> +‘There are not many of them to-night, John, but I saw some goods +behind the cart, just now; and though they give more trouble, perhaps, +still they pay as well; so we have no reason to grumble, have we? +Besides, you have been delivering, I dare say, as you came along?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh yes,’ John said. ‘A good many.’<br> +<br> +‘Why what’s this round box? Heart alive, John, it’s +a wedding-cake!’<br> +<br> +‘Leave a woman alone to find out that,’ said John, admiringly. +‘Now a man would never have thought of it. Whereas, it’s +my belief that if you was to pack a wedding-cake up in a tea-chest, +or a turn-up bedstead, or a pickled salmon keg, or any unlikely thing, +a woman would be sure to find it out directly. Yes; I called for +it at the pastry-cook’s.’<br> +<br> +‘And it weighs I don’t know what - whole hundredweights!’ +cried Dot, making a great demonstration of trying to lift it.<br> +<br> +‘Whose is it, John? Where is it going?’<br> +<br> +‘Read the writing on the other side,’ said John.<br> +<br> +‘Why, John! My Goodness, John!’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! who’d have thought it!’ John returned.<br> +<br> +‘You never mean to say,’ pursued Dot, sitting on the floor +and shaking her head at him, ‘that it’s Gruff and Tackleton +the toymaker!’<br> +<br> +John nodded.<br> +<br> +Mrs. Peerybingle nodded also, fifty times at least. Not in assent +- in dumb and pitying amazement; screwing up her lips the while with +all their little force (they were never made for screwing up; I am clear +of that), and looking the good Carrier through and through, in her abstraction. +Miss Slowboy, in the mean time, who had a mechanical power of reproducing +scraps of current conversation for the delectation of the baby, with +all the sense struck out of them, and all the nouns changed into the +plural number, inquired aloud of that young creature, Was it Gruffs +and Tackletons the toymakers then, and Would it call at Pastry-cooks +for wedding-cakes, and Did its mothers know the boxes when its fathers +brought them homes; and so on.<br> +<br> +‘And that is really to come about!’ said Dot. ‘Why, +she and I were girls at school together, John.’<br> +<br> +He might have been thinking of her, or nearly thinking of her, perhaps, +as she was in that same school time. He looked upon her with a +thoughtful pleasure, but he made no answer.<br> +<br> +‘And he’s as old! As unlike her! - Why, how many years +older than you, is Gruff and Tackleton, John?’<br> +<br> +‘How many more cups of tea shall I drink to-night at one sitting, +than Gruff and Tackleton ever took in four, I wonder!’ replied +John, good-humouredly, as he drew a chair to the round table, and began +at the cold ham. ‘As to eating, I eat but little; but that +little I enjoy, Dot.’<br> +<br> +Even this, his usual sentiment at meal times, one of his innocent delusions +(for his appetite was always obstinate, and flatly contradicted him), +awoke no smile in the face of his little wife, who stood among the parcels, +pushing the cake-box slowly from her with her foot, and never once looked, +though her eyes were cast down too, upon the dainty shoe she generally +was so mindful of. Absorbed in thought, she stood there, heedless +alike of the tea and John (although he called to her, and rapped the +table with his knife to startle her), until he rose and touched her +on the arm; when she looked at him for a moment, and hurried to her +place behind the teaboard, laughing at her negligence. But, not +as she had laughed before. The manner and the music were quite +changed.<br> +<br> +The Cricket, too, had stopped. Somehow the room was not so cheerful +as it had been. Nothing like it.<br> +<br> +‘So, these are all the parcels, are they, John?’ she said, +breaking a long silence, which the honest Carrier had devoted to the +practical illustration of one part of his favourite sentiment - certainly +enjoying what he ate, if it couldn’t be admitted that he ate but +little. ‘So, these are all the parcels; are they, John?’<br> +<br> +‘That’s all,’ said John. ‘Why - no - I +- ’ laying down his knife and fork, and taking a long breath. +‘I declare - I’ve clean forgotten the old gentleman!’<br> +<br> +‘The old gentleman?’<br> +<br> +‘In the cart,’ said John. ‘He was asleep, among +the straw, the last time I saw him. I’ve very nearly remembered +him, twice, since I came in; but he went out of my head again. +Holloa! Yahip there! Rouse up! That’s my hearty!’<br> +<br> +John said these latter words outside the door, whither he had hurried +with the candle in his hand.<br> +<br> +Miss Slowboy, conscious of some mysterious reference to The Old Gentleman, +and connecting in her mystified imagination certain associations of +a religious nature with the phrase, was so disturbed, that hastily rising +from the low chair by the fire to seek protection near the skirts of +her mistress, and coming into contact as she crossed the doorway with +an ancient Stranger, she instinctively made a charge or butt at him +with the only offensive instrument within her reach. This instrument +happening to be the baby, great commotion and alarm ensued, which the +sagacity of Boxer rather tended to increase; for, that good dog, more +thoughtful than its master, had, it seemed, been watching the old gentleman +in his sleep, lest he should walk off with a few young poplar trees +that were tied up behind the cart; and he still attended on him very +closely, worrying his gaiters in fact, and making dead sets at the buttons.<br> +<br> +‘You’re such an undeniable good sleeper, sir,’ said +John, when tranquillity was restored; in the mean time the old gentleman +had stood, bareheaded and motionless, in the centre of the room; ‘that +I have half a mind to ask you where the other six are - only that would +be a joke, and I know I should spoil it. Very near though,’ +murmured the Carrier, with a chuckle; ‘very near!’<br> +<br> +The Stranger, who had long white hair, good features, singularly bold +and well defined for an old man, and dark, bright, penetrating eyes, +looked round with a smile, and saluted the Carrier’s wife by gravely +inclining his head.<br> +<br> +His garb was very quaint and odd - a long, long way behind the time. +Its hue was brown, all over. In his hand he held a great brown +club or walking-stick; and striking this upon the floor, it fell asunder, +and became a chair. On which he sat down, quite composedly.<br> +<br> +‘There!’ said the Carrier, turning to his wife. ‘That’s +the way I found him, sitting by the roadside! Upright as a milestone. +And almost as deaf.’<br> +<br> +‘Sitting in the open air, John!’<br> +<br> +‘In the open air,’ replied the Carrier, ‘just at dusk. +“Carriage Paid,” he said; and gave me eighteenpence. +Then he got in. And there he is.’<br> +<br> +‘He’s going, John, I think!’<br> +<br> +Not at all. He was only going to speak.<br> +<br> +‘If you please, I was to be left till called for,’ said +the Stranger, mildly. ‘Don’t mind me.’<br> +<br> +With that, he took a pair of spectacles from one of his large pockets, +and a book from another, and leisurely began to read. Making no +more of Boxer than if he had been a house lamb!<br> +<br> +The Carrier and his wife exchanged a look of perplexity. The Stranger +raised his head; and glancing from the latter to the former, said,<br> +<br> +‘Your daughter, my good friend?’<br> +<br> +‘Wife,’ returned John.<br> +<br> +‘Niece?’ said the Stranger.<br> +<br> +‘Wife,’ roared John.<br> +<br> +‘Indeed?’ observed the Stranger. ‘Surely? +Very young!’<br> +<br> +He quietly turned over, and resumed his reading. But, before he +could have read two lines, he again interrupted himself to say:<br> +<br> +‘Baby, yours?’<br> +<br> +John gave him a gigantic nod; equivalent to an answer in the affirmative, +delivered through a speaking trumpet.<br> +<br> +‘Girl?’<br> +<br> +‘Bo-o-oy!’ roared John.<br> +<br> +‘Also very young, eh?’<br> +<br> +Mrs. Peerybingle instantly struck in. ‘Two months and three +da-ays! Vaccinated just six weeks ago-o! Took very fine-ly! +Considered, by the doctor, a remarkably beautiful chi-ild! Equal +to the general run of children at five months o-old! Takes notice, +in a way quite wonderful! May seem impossible to you, but feels +his legs al-ready!’<br> +<br> +Here the breathless little mother, who had been shrieking these short +sentences into the old man’s ear, until her pretty face was crimsoned, +held up the Baby before him as a stubborn and triumphant fact; while +Tilly Slowboy, with a melodious cry of ‘Ketcher, Ketcher’ +- which sounded like some unknown words, adapted to a popular Sneeze +- performed some cow-like gambols round that all unconscious Innocent.<br> +<br> +‘Hark! He’s called for, sure enough,’ said John. +‘There’s somebody at the door. Open it, Tilly.’<br> +<br> +Before she could reach it, however, it was opened from without; being +a primitive sort of door, with a latch, that any one could lift if he +chose - and a good many people did choose, for all kinds of neighbours +liked to have a cheerful word or two with the Carrier, though he was +no great talker himself. Being opened, it gave admission to a +little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man, who seemed to have made +himself a great-coat from the sack-cloth covering of some old box; for, +when he turned to shut the door, and keep the weather out, he disclosed +upon the back of that garment, the inscription G & T in large black +capitals. Also the word GLASS in bold characters.<br> +<br> +‘Good evening, John!’ said the little man. ‘Good +evening, Mum. Good evening, Tilly. Good evening, Unbeknown! +How’s Baby, Mum? Boxer’s pretty well I hope?’<br> +<br> +‘All thriving, Caleb,’ replied Dot. ‘I am sure +you need only look at the dear child, for one, to know that.’<br> +<br> +‘And I’m sure I need only look at you for another,’ +said Caleb.<br> +<br> +He didn’t look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful +eye which seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time +and place, no matter what he said; a description which will equally +apply to his voice.<br> +<br> +‘Or at John for another,’ said Caleb. ‘Or at +Tilly, as far as that goes. Or certainly at Boxer.’<br> +<br> +‘Busy just now, Caleb?’ asked the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘Why, pretty well, John,’ he returned, with the distraught +air of a man who was casting about for the Philosopher’s stone, +at least. ‘Pretty much so. There’s rather a +run on Noah’s Arks at present. I could have wished to improve +upon the Family, but I don’t see how it’s to be done at +the price. It would be a satisfaction to one’s mind, to +make it clearer which was Shems and Hams, and which was Wives. +Flies an’t on that scale neither, as compared with elephants you +know! Ah! well! Have you got anything in the parcel line +for me, John?’<br> +<br> +The Carrier put his hand into a pocket of the coat he had taken off; +and brought out, carefully preserved in moss and paper, a tiny flower-pot.<br> +<br> +‘There it is!’ he said, adjusting it with great care. +‘Not so much as a leaf damaged. Full of buds!’<br> +<br> +Caleb’s dull eye brightened, as he took it, and thanked him.<br> +<br> +‘Dear, Caleb,’ said the Carrier. ‘Very dear +at this season.’<br> +<br> +‘Never mind that. It would be cheap to me, whatever it cost,’ +returned the little man. ‘Anything else, John?’<br> +<br> +‘A small box,’ replied the Carrier. ‘Here you +are!’<br> +<br> +‘“For Caleb Plummer,”’ said the little man, +spelling out the direction. ‘“With Cash.” +With Cash, John? I don’t think it’s for me.’<br> +<br> +‘With Care,’ returned the Carrier, looking over his shoulder. +‘Where do you make out cash?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! To be sure!’ said Caleb. ‘It’s +all right. With care! Yes, yes; that’s mine. +It might have been with cash, indeed, if my dear Boy in the Golden South +Americas had lived, John. You loved him like a son; didn’t +you? You needn’t say you did. <i>I</i> know, of course. +“Caleb Plummer. With care.” Yes, yes, it’s +all right. It’s a box of dolls’ eyes for my daughter’s +work. I wish it was her own sight in a box, John.’<br> +<br> +‘I wish it was, or could be!’ cried the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘Thank’ee,’ said the little man. ‘You +speak very hearty. To think that she should never see the Dolls +- and them a-staring at her, so bold, all day long! That’s +where it cuts. What’s the damage, John?’<br> +<br> +‘I’ll damage you,’ said John, ‘if you inquire. +Dot! Very near?’<br> +<br> +‘Well! it’s like you to say so,’ observed the little +man. ‘It’s your kind way. Let me see. +I think that’s all.’<br> +<br> +‘I think not,’ said the Carrier. ‘Try again.’<br> +<br> +‘Something for our Governor, eh?’ said Caleb, after pondering +a little while. ‘To be sure. That’s what I came +for; but my head’s so running on them Arks and things! He +hasn’t been here, has he?’<br> +<br> +‘Not he,’ returned the Carrier. ‘He’s +too busy, courting.’<br> +<br> +‘He’s coming round though,’ said Caleb; ‘for +he told me to keep on the near side of the road going home, and it was +ten to one he’d take me up. I had better go, by the bye. +- You couldn’t have the goodness to let me pinch Boxer’s +tail, Mum, for half a moment, could you?’<br> +<br> +‘Why, Caleb! what a question!’<br> +<br> +‘Oh never mind, Mum,’ said the little man. ‘He +mightn’t like it perhaps. There’s a small order just +come in, for barking dogs; and I should wish to go as close to Natur’ +as I could, for sixpence. That’s all. Never mind, +Mum.’<br> +<br> +It happened opportunely, that Boxer, without receiving the proposed +stimulus, began to bark with great zeal. But, as this implied +the approach of some new visitor, Caleb, postponing his study from the +life to a more convenient season, shouldered the round box, and took +a hurried leave. He might have spared himself the trouble, for +he met the visitor upon the threshold.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! You are here, are you? Wait a bit. I’ll +take you home. John Peerybingle, my service to you. More +of my service to your pretty wife. Handsomer every day! +Better too, if possible! And younger,’ mused the speaker, +in a low voice; ‘that’s the Devil of it!’<br> +<br> +‘I should be astonished at your paying compliments, Mr. Tackleton,’ +said Dot, not with the best grace in the world; ‘but for your +condition.’<br> +<br> +‘You know all about it then?’<br> +<br> +‘I have got myself to believe it, somehow,’ said Dot.<br> +<br> +‘After a hard struggle, I suppose?’<br> +<br> +‘Very.’<br> +<br> +Tackleton the Toy-merchant, pretty generally known as Gruff and Tackleton +- for that was the firm, though Gruff had been bought out long ago; +only leaving his name, and as some said his nature, according to its +Dictionary meaning, in the business - Tackleton the Toy-merchant, was +a man whose vocation had been quite misunderstood by his Parents and +Guardians. If they had made him a Money Lender, or a sharp Attorney, +or a Sheriff’s Officer, or a Broker, he might have sown his discontented +oats in his youth, and, after having had the full run of himself in +ill-natured transactions, might have turned out amiable, at last, for +the sake of a little freshness and novelty. But, cramped and chafing +in the peaceable pursuit of toy-making, he was a domestic Ogre, who +had been living on children all his life, and was their implacable enemy. +He despised all toys; wouldn’t have bought one for the world; +delighted, in his malice, to insinuate grim expressions into the faces +of brown-paper farmers who drove pigs to market, bellmen who advertised +lost lawyers’ consciences, movable old ladies who darned stockings +or carved pies; and other like samples of his stock in trade. +In appalling masks; hideous, hairy, red-eyed Jacks in Boxes; Vampire +Kites; demoniacal Tumblers who wouldn’t lie down, and were perpetually +flying forward, to stare infants out of countenance; his soul perfectly +revelled. They were his only relief, and safety-valve. He +was great in such inventions. Anything suggestive of a Pony-nightmare +was delicious to him. He had even lost money (and he took to that +toy very kindly) by getting up Goblin slides for magic-lanterns, whereon +the Powers of Darkness were depicted as a sort of supernatural shell-fish, +with human faces. In intensifying the portraiture of Giants, he +had sunk quite a little capital; and, though no painter himself, he +could indicate, for the instruction of his artists, with a piece of +chalk, a certain furtive leer for the countenances of those monsters, +which was safe to destroy the peace of mind of any young gentleman between +the ages of six and eleven, for the whole Christmas or Midsummer Vacation.<br> +<br> +What he was in toys, he was (as most men are) in other things. +You may easily suppose, therefore, that within the great green cape, +which reached down to the calves of his legs, there was buttoned up +to the chin an uncommonly pleasant fellow; and that he was about as +choice a spirit, and as agreeable a companion, as ever stood in a pair +of bull-headed-looking boots with mahogany-coloured tops.<br> +<br> +Still, Tackleton, the toy-merchant, was going to be married. In +spite of all this, he was going to be married. And to a young +wife too, a beautiful young wife.<br> +<br> +He didn’t look much like a bridegroom, as he stood in the Carrier’s +kitchen, with a twist in his dry face, and a screw in his body, and +his hat jerked over the bridge of his nose, and his hands tucked down +into the bottoms of his pockets, and his whole sarcastic ill-conditioned +self peering out of one little corner of one little eye, like the concentrated +essence of any number of ravens. But, a Bridegroom he designed +to be.<br> +<br> +‘In three days’ time. Next Thursday. The last +day of the first month in the year. That’s my wedding-day,’ +said Tackleton.<br> +<br> +Did I mention that he had always one eye wide open, and one eye nearly +shut; and that the one eye nearly shut, was always the expressive eye? +I don’t think I did.<br> +<br> +‘That’s my wedding-day!’ said Tackleton, rattling +his money.<br> +<br> +‘Why, it’s our wedding-day too,’ exclaimed the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘Ha ha!’ laughed Tackleton. ‘Odd! You’re +just such another couple. Just!’<br> +<br> +The indignation of Dot at this presumptuous assertion is not to be described. +What next? His imagination would compass the possibility of just +such another Baby, perhaps. The man was mad.<br> +<br> +‘I say! A word with you,’ murmured Tackleton, nudging +the Carrier with his elbow, and taking him a little apart. ‘You’ll +come to the wedding? We’re in the same boat, you know.’<br> +<br> +‘How in the same boat?’ inquired the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘A little disparity, you know,’ said Tackleton, with another +nudge. ‘Come and spend an evening with us, beforehand.’<br> +<br> +‘Why?’ demanded John, astonished at this pressing hospitality.<br> +<br> +‘Why?’ returned the other. ‘That’s a new +way of receiving an invitation. Why, for pleasure - sociability, +you know, and all that!’<br> +<br> +‘I thought you were never sociable,’ said John, in his plain +way.<br> +<br> +‘Tchah! It’s of no use to be anything but free with +you, I see,’ said Tackleton. ‘Why, then, the truth +is you have a - what tea-drinking people call a sort of a comfortable +appearance together, you and your wife. We know better, you know, +but - ’<br> +<br> +‘No, we don’t know better,’ interposed John. +‘What are you talking about?’<br> +<br> +‘Well! We <i>don’t</i> know better, then,’ said +Tackleton. ‘We’ll agree that we don’t. +As you like; what does it matter? I was going to say, as you have +that sort of appearance, your company will produce a favourable effect +on Mrs. Tackleton that will be. And, though I don’t think +your good lady’s very friendly to me, in this matter, still she +can’t help herself from falling into my views, for there’s +a compactness and cosiness of appearance about her that always tells, +even in an indifferent case. You’ll say you’ll come?’<br> +<br> +‘We have arranged to keep our Wedding-Day (as far as that goes) +at home,’ said John. ‘We have made the promise to +ourselves these six months. We think, you see, that home - ’<br> +<br> +‘Bah! what’s home?’ cried Tackleton. ‘Four +walls and a ceiling! (why don’t you kill that Cricket? <i>I</i> +would! I always do. I hate their noise.) There are +four walls and a ceiling at my house. Come to me!’<br> +<br> +‘You kill your Crickets, eh?’ said John.<br> +<br> +‘Scrunch ’em, sir,’ returned the other, setting his +heel heavily on the floor. ‘You’ll say you’ll +come? it’s as much your interest as mine, you know, that the women +should persuade each other that they’re quiet and contented, and +couldn’t be better off. I know their way. Whatever +one woman says, another woman is determined to clinch, always. +There’s that spirit of emulation among ’em, sir, that if +your wife says to my wife, “I’m the happiest woman in the +world, and mine’s the best husband in the world, and I dote on +him,” my wife will say the same to yours, or more, and half believe +it.’<br> +<br> +‘Do you mean to say she don’t, then?’ asked the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘Don’t!’ cried Tackleton, with a short, sharp laugh. +‘Don’t what?’<br> +<br> +The Carrier had some faint idea of adding, ‘dote upon you.’ +But, happening to meet the half-closed eye, as it twinkled upon him +over the turned-up collar of the cape, which was within an ace of poking +it out, he felt it such an unlikely part and parcel of anything to be +doted on, that he substituted, ‘that she don’t believe it?’<br> +<br> +‘Ah you dog! You’re joking,’ said Tackleton.<br> +<br> +But the Carrier, though slow to understand the full drift of his meaning, +eyed him in such a serious manner, that he was obliged to be a little +more explanatory.<br> +<br> +‘I have the humour,’ said Tackleton: holding up the fingers +of his left hand, and tapping the forefinger, to imply ‘there +I am, Tackleton to wit:’ ‘I have the humour, sir, to marry +a young wife, and a pretty wife:’ here he rapped his little finger, +to express the Bride; not sparingly, but sharply; with a sense of power. +‘I’m able to gratify that humour and I do. It’s +my whim. But - now look there!’<br> +<br> +He pointed to where Dot was sitting, thoughtfully, before the fire; +leaning her dimpled chin upon her hand, and watching the bright blaze. +The Carrier looked at her, and then at him, and then at her, and then +at him again.<br> +<br> +‘She honours and obeys, no doubt, you know,’ said Tackleton; +‘and that, as I am not a man of sentiment, is quite enough for +<i>me</i>. But do you think there’s anything more in it?’<br> +<br> +‘I think,’ observed the Carrier, ‘that I should chuck +any man out of window, who said there wasn’t.’<br> +<br> +‘Exactly so,’ returned the other with an unusual alacrity +of assent. ‘To be sure! Doubtless you would. +Of course. I’m certain of it. Good night. Pleasant +dreams!’<br> +<br> +The Carrier was puzzled, and made uncomfortable and uncertain, in spite +of himself. He couldn’t help showing it, in his manner.<br> +<br> +‘Good night, my dear friend!’ said Tackleton, compassionately. +‘I’m off. We’re exactly alike, in reality, I +see. You won’t give us to-morrow evening? Well! +Next day you go out visiting, I know. I’ll meet you there, +and bring my wife that is to be. It’ll do her good. +You’re agreeable? Thank’ee. What’s that!’<br> +<br> +It was a loud cry from the Carrier’s wife: a loud, sharp, sudden +cry, that made the room ring, like a glass vessel. She had risen +from her seat, and stood like one transfixed by terror and surprise. +The Stranger had advanced towards the fire to warm himself, and stood +within a short stride of her chair. But quite still.<br> +<br> +‘Dot!’ cried the Carrier. ‘Mary! Darling! +What’s the matter?’<br> +<br> +They were all about her in a moment. Caleb, who had been dozing +on the cake-box, in the first imperfect recovery of his suspended presence +of mind, seized Miss Slowboy by the hair of her head, but immediately +apologised.<br> +<br> +‘Mary!’ exclaimed the Carrier, supporting her in his arms. +‘Are you ill! What is it? Tell me, dear!’<br> +<br> +She only answered by beating her hands together, and falling into a +wild fit of laughter. Then, sinking from his grasp upon the ground, +she covered her face with her apron, and wept bitterly. And then +she laughed again, and then she cried again, and then she said how cold +it was, and suffered him to lead her to the fire, where she sat down +as before. The old man standing, as before, quite still.<br> +<br> +‘I’m better, John,’ she said. ‘I’m +quite well now - I -’<br> +<br> +‘John!’ But John was on the other side of her. +Why turn her face towards the strange old gentleman, as if addressing +him! Was her brain wandering?<br> +<br> +‘Only a fancy, John dear - a kind of shock - a something coming +suddenly before my eyes - I don’t know what it was. It’s +quite gone, quite gone.’<br> +<br> +‘I’m glad it’s gone,’ muttered Tackleton, turning +the expressive eye all round the room. ‘I wonder where it’s +gone, and what it was. Humph! Caleb, come here! Who’s +that with the grey hair?’<br> +<br> +‘I don’t know, sir,’ returned Caleb in a whisper. +‘Never see him before, in all my life. A beautiful figure +for a nut-cracker; quite a new model. With a screw-jaw opening +down into his waistcoat, he’d be lovely.’<br> +<br> +‘Not ugly enough,’ said Tackleton.<br> +<br> +‘Or for a firebox, either,’ observed Caleb, in deep contemplation, +‘what a model! Unscrew his head to put the matches in; turn +him heels up’ards for the light; and what a firebox for a gentleman’s +mantel-shelf, just as he stands!’<br> +<br> +‘Not half ugly enough,’ said Tackleton. ‘Nothing +in him at all! Come! Bring that box! All right now, +I hope?’<br> +<br> +‘Quite gone!’ said the little woman, waving him hurriedly +away. ‘Good night!’<br> +<br> +‘Good night,’ said Tackleton. ‘Good night, John +Peerybingle! Take care how you carry that box, Caleb. Let +it fall, and I’ll murder you! Dark as pitch, and weather +worse than ever, eh? Good night!’<br> +<br> +So, with another sharp look round the room, he went out at the door; +followed by Caleb with the wedding-cake on his head.<br> +<br> +The Carrier had been so much astounded by his little wife, and so busily +engaged in soothing and tending her, that he had scarcely been conscious +of the Stranger’s presence, until now, when he again stood there, +their only guest.<br> +<br> +‘He don’t belong to them, you see,’ said John. +‘I must give him a hint to go.’<br> +<br> +‘I beg your pardon, friend,’ said the old gentleman, advancing +to him; ‘the more so, as I fear your wife has not been well; but +the Attendant whom my infirmity,’ he touched his ears and shook +his head, ‘renders almost indispensable, not having arrived, I +fear there must be some mistake. The bad night which made the +shelter of your comfortable cart (may I never have a worse!) so acceptable, +is still as bad as ever. Would you, in your kindness, suffer me +to rent a bed here?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, yes,’ cried Dot. ‘Yes! Certainly!’<br> +<br> +‘Oh!’ said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this +consent.<br> +<br> +‘Well! I don’t object; but, still I’m not quite +sure that - ’<br> +<br> +‘Hush!’ she interrupted. ‘Dear John!’<br> +<br> +‘Why, he’s stone deaf,’ urged John.<br> +<br> +‘I know he is, but - Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! certainly! +I’ll make him up a bed, directly, John.’<br> +<br> +As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the agitation +of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier stood looking after +her, quite confounded.<br> +<br> +‘Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!’ cried Miss Slowboy +to the Baby; ‘and did its hair grow brown and curly, when its +caps was lifted off, and frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by +the fires!’<br> +<br> +With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, which is +often incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the Carrier as he +walked slowly to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even these +absurd words, many times. So many times that he got them by heart, +and was still conning them over and over, like a lesson, when Tilly, +after administering as much friction to the little bald head with her +hand as she thought wholesome (according to the practice of nurses), +had once more tied the Baby’s cap on.<br> +<br> +‘And frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the fires. +What frightened Dot, I wonder!’ mused the Carrier, pacing to and +fro.<br> +<br> +He scouted, from his heart, the insinuations of the Toy-merchant, and +yet they filled him with a vague, indefinite uneasiness. For, +Tackleton was quick and sly; and he had that painful sense, himself, +of being of slow perception, that a broken hint was always worrying +to him. He certainly had no intention in his mind of linking anything +that Tackleton had said, with the unusual conduct of his wife, but the +two subjects of reflection came into his mind together, and he could +not keep them asunder.<br> +<br> +The bed was soon made ready; and the visitor, declining all refreshment +but a cup of tea, retired. Then, Dot - quite well again, she said, +quite well again - arranged the great chair in the chimney-corner for +her husband; filled his pipe and gave it him; and took her usual little +stool beside him on the hearth.<br> +<br> +She always <i>would</i> sit on that little stool. I think she +must have had a kind of notion that it was a coaxing, wheedling little +stool.<br> +<br> +She was, out and out, the very best filler of a pipe, I should say, +in the four quarters of the globe. To see her put that chubby +little finger in the bowl, and then blow down the pipe to clear the +tube, and, when she had done so, affect to think that there was really +something in the tube, and blow a dozen times, and hold it to her eye +like a telescope, with a most provoking twist in her capital little +face, as she looked down it, was quite a brilliant thing. As to +the tobacco, she was perfect mistress of the subject; and her lighting +of the pipe, with a wisp of paper, when the Carrier had it in his mouth +- going so very near his nose, and yet not scorching it - was Art, high +Art.<br> +<br> +And the Cricket and the kettle, turning up again, acknowledged it! +The bright fire, blazing up again, acknowledged it! The little +Mower on the clock, in his unheeded work, acknowledged it! The +Carrier, in his smoothing forehead and expanding face, acknowledged +it, the readiest of all.<br> +<br> +And as he soberly and thoughtfully puffed at his old pipe, and as the +Dutch clock ticked, and as the red fire gleamed, and as the Cricket +chirped; that Genius of his Hearth and Home (for such the Cricket was) +came out, in fairy shape, into the room, and summoned many forms of +Home about him. Dots of all ages, and all sizes, filled the chamber. +Dots who were merry children, running on before him gathering flowers, +in the fields; coy Dots, half shrinking from, half yielding to, the +pleading of his own rough image; newly-married Dots, alighting at the +door, and taking wondering possession of the household keys; motherly +little Dots, attended by fictitious Slowboys, bearing babies to be christened; +matronly Dots, still young and blooming, watching Dots of daughters, +as they danced at rustic balls; fat Dots, encircled and beset by troops +of rosy grandchildren; withered Dots, who leaned on sticks, and tottered +as they crept along. Old Carriers too, appeared, with blind old +Boxers lying at their feet; and newer carts with younger drivers (‘Peerybingle +Brothers’ on the tilt); and sick old Carriers, tended by the gentlest +hands; and graves of dead and gone old Carriers, green in the churchyard. +And as the Cricket showed him all these things - he saw them plainly, +though his eyes were fixed upon the fire - the Carrier’s heart +grew light and happy, and he thanked his Household Gods with all his +might, and cared no more for Gruff and Tackleton than you do.<br> +<br> +<br> +But, what was that young figure of a man, which the same Fairy Cricket +set so near Her stool, and which remained there, singly and alone? +Why did it linger still, so near her, with its arm upon the chimney-piece, +ever repeating ‘Married! and not to me!’<br> +<br> +O Dot! O failing Dot! There is no place for it in all your +husband’s visions; why has its shadow fallen on his hearth!<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER II - Chirp The Second<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Caleb Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by themselves, +as the Story-books say - and my blessing, with yours to back it I hope, +on the Story-books, for saying anything in this workaday world! - Caleb +Plummer and his Blind Daughter lived all alone by themselves, in a little +cracked nutshell of a wooden house, which was, in truth, no better than +a pimple on the prominent red-brick nose of Gruff and Tackleton. +The premises of Gruff and Tackleton were the great feature of the street; +but you might have knocked down Caleb Plummer’s dwelling with +a hammer or two, and carried off the pieces in a cart.<br> +<br> +If any one had done the dwelling-house of Caleb Plummer the honour to +miss it after such an inroad, it would have been, no doubt, to commend +its demolition as a vast improvement. It stuck to the premises +of Gruff and Tackleton, like a barnacle to a ship’s keel, or a +snail to a door, or a little bunch of toadstools to the stem of a tree.<br> +<br> +But, it was the germ from which the full-grown trunk of Gruff and Tackleton +had sprung; and, under its crazy roof, the Gruff before last, had, in +a small way, made toys for a generation of old boys and girls, who had +played with them, and found them out, and broken them, and gone to sleep.<br> +<br> +I have said that Caleb and his poor Blind Daughter lived here. +I should have said that Caleb lived here, and his poor Blind Daughter +somewhere else - in an enchanted home of Caleb’s furnishing, where +scarcity and shabbiness were not, and trouble never entered. Caleb +was no sorcerer, but in the only magic art that still remains to us, +the magic of devoted, deathless love, Nature had been the mistress of +his study; and from her teaching, all the wonder came.<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl never knew that ceilings were discoloured, walls blotched +and bare of plaster here and there, high crevices unstopped and widening +every day, beams mouldering and tending downward. The Blind Girl +never knew that iron was rusting, wood rotting, paper peeling off; the +size, and shape, and true proportion of the dwelling, withering away. +The Blind Girl never knew that ugly shapes of delf and earthenware were +on the board; that sorrow and faintheartedness were in the house; that +Caleb’s scanty hairs were turning greyer and more grey, before +her sightless face. The Blind Girl never knew they had a master, +cold, exacting, and uninterested - never knew that Tackleton was Tackleton +in short; but lived in the belief of an eccentric humourist who loved +to have his jest with them, and who, while he was the Guardian Angel +of their lives, disdained to hear one word of thankfulness.<br> +<br> +And all was Caleb’s doing; all the doing of her simple father! +But he too had a Cricket on his Hearth; and listening sadly to its music +when the motherless Blind Child was very young, that Spirit had inspired +him with the thought that even her great deprivation might be almost +changed into a blessing, and the girl made happy by these little means. +For all the Cricket tribe are potent Spirits, even though the people +who hold converse with them do not know it (which is frequently the +case); and there are not in the unseen world, voices more gentle and +more true, that may be so implicitly relied on, or that are so certain +to give none but tenderest counsel, as the Voices in which the Spirits +of the Fireside and the Hearth address themselves to human kind.<br> +<br> +Caleb and his daughter were at work together in their usual working-room, +which served them for their ordinary living-room as well; and a strange +place it was. There were houses in it, finished and unfinished, +for Dolls of all stations in life. Suburban tenements for Dolls +of moderate means; kitchens and single apartments for Dolls of the lower +classes; capital town residences for Dolls of high estate. Some +of these establishments were already furnished according to estimate, +with a view to the convenience of Dolls of limited income; others could +be fitted on the most expensive scale, at a moment’s notice, from +whole shelves of chairs and tables, sofas, bedsteads, and upholstery. +The nobility and gentry, and public in general, for whose accommodation +these tenements were designed, lay, here and there, in baskets, staring +straight up at the ceiling; but, in denoting their degrees in society, +and confining them to their respective stations (which experience shows +to be lamentably difficult in real life), the makers of these Dolls +had far improved on Nature, who is often froward and perverse; for, +they, not resting on such arbitrary marks as satin, cotton-print, and +bits of rag, had superadded striking personal differences which allowed +of no mistake. Thus, the Doll-lady of distinction had wax limbs +of perfect symmetry; but only she and her compeers. The next grade +in the social scale being made of leather, and the next of coarse linen +stuff. As to the common-people, they had just so many matches +out of tinder-boxes, for their arms and legs, and there they were - +established in their sphere at once, beyond the possibility of getting +out of it.<br> +<br> +There were various other samples of his handicraft, besides Dolls, in +Caleb Plummer’s room. There were Noah’s Arks, in which +the Birds and Beasts were an uncommonly tight fit, I assure you; though +they could be crammed in, anyhow, at the roof, and rattled and shaken +into the smallest compass. By a bold poetical licence, most of +these Noah’s Arks had knockers on the doors; inconsistent appendages, +perhaps, as suggestive of morning callers and a Postman, yet a pleasant +finish to the outside of the building. There were scores of melancholy +little carts, which, when the wheels went round, performed most doleful +music. Many small fiddles, drums, and other instruments of torture; +no end of cannon, shields, swords, spears, and guns. There were +little tumblers in red breeches, incessantly swarming up high obstacles +of red-tape, and coming down, head first, on the other side; and there +were innumerable old gentlemen of respectable, not to say venerable, +appearance, insanely flying over horizontal pegs, inserted, for the +purpose, in their own street doors. There were beasts of all sorts; +horses, in particular, of every breed, from the spotted barrel on four +pegs, with a small tippet for a mane, to the thoroughbred rocker on +his highest mettle. As it would have been hard to count the dozens +upon dozens of grotesque figures that were ever ready to commit all +sorts of absurdities on the turning of a handle, so it would have been +no easy task to mention any human folly, vice, or weakness, that had +not its type, immediate or remote, in Caleb Plummer’s room. +And not in an exaggerated form, for very little handles will move men +and women to as strange performances, as any Toy was ever made to undertake.<br> +<br> +In the midst of all these objects, Caleb and his daughter sat at work. +The Blind Girl busy as a Doll’s dressmaker; Caleb painting and +glazing the four-pair front of a desirable family mansion.<br> +<br> +The care imprinted in the lines of Caleb’s face, and his absorbed +and dreamy manner, which would have sat well on some alchemist or abstruse +student, were at first sight an odd contrast to his occupation, and +the trivialities about him. But, trivial things, invented and +pursued for bread, become very serious matters of fact; and, apart from +this consideration, I am not at all prepared to say, myself, that if +Caleb had been a Lord Chamberlain, or a Member of Parliament, or a lawyer, +or even a great speculator, he would have dealt in toys one whit less +whimsical, while I have a very great doubt whether they would have been +as harmless.<br> +<br> +‘So you were out in the rain last night, father, in your beautiful +new great-coat,’ said Caleb’s daughter.<br> +<br> +‘In my beautiful new great-coat,’ answered Caleb, glancing +towards a clothes-line in the room, on which the sack-cloth garment +previously described, was carefully hung up to dry.<br> +<br> +‘How glad I am you bought it, father!’<br> +<br> +‘And of such a tailor, too,’ said Caleb. ‘Quite +a fashionable tailor. It’s too good for me.’<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl rested from her work, and laughed with delight.<br> +<br> +‘Too good, father! What can be too good for you?’<br> +<br> +‘I’m half-ashamed to wear it though,’ said Caleb, +watching the effect of what he said, upon her brightening face; ‘upon +my word! When I hear the boys and people say behind me, “Hal-loa! +Here’s a swell!” I don’t know which way to look. +And when the beggar wouldn’t go away last night; and when I said +I was a very common man, said “No, your Honour! Bless your +Honour, don’t say that!” I was quite ashamed. +I really felt as if I hadn’t a right to wear it.’<br> +<br> +Happy Blind Girl! How merry she was, in her exultation!<br> +<br> +‘I see you, father,’ she said, clasping her hands, ‘as +plainly, as if I had the eyes I never want when you are with me. +A blue coat - ’<br> +<br> +‘Bright blue,’ said Caleb.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, yes! Bright blue!’ exclaimed the girl, turning +up her radiant face; ‘the colour I can just remember in the blessed +sky! You told me it was blue before! A bright blue coat +- ’<br> +<br> +‘Made loose to the figure,’ suggested Caleb.<br> +<br> +‘Made loose to the figure!’ cried the Blind Girl, laughing +heartily; ‘and in it, you, dear father, with your merry eye, your +smiling face, your free step, and your dark hair - looking so young +and handsome!’<br> +<br> +‘Halloa! Halloa!’ said Caleb. ‘I shall +be vain, presently!’<br> +<br> +‘I think you are, already,’ cried the Blind Girl, pointing +at him, in her glee. ‘I know you, father! Ha, ha, +ha! I’ve found you out, you see!’<br> +<br> +How different the picture in her mind, from Caleb, as he sat observing +her! She had spoken of his free step. She was right in that. +For years and years, he had never once crossed that threshold at his +own slow pace, but with a footfall counterfeited for her ear; and never +had he, when his heart was heaviest, forgotten the light tread that +was to render hers so cheerful and courageous!<br> +<br> +Heaven knows! But I think Caleb’s vague bewilderment of +manner may have half originated in his having confused himself about +himself and everything around him, for the love of his Blind Daughter. +How could the little man be otherwise than bewildered, after labouring +for so many years to destroy his own identity, and that of all the objects +that had any bearing on it!<br> +<br> +‘There we are,’ said Caleb, falling back a pace or two to +form the better judgment of his work; ‘as near the real thing +as sixpenn’orth of halfpence is to sixpence. What a pity +that the whole front of the house opens at once! If there was +only a staircase in it, now, and regular doors to the rooms to go in +at! But that’s the worst of my calling, I’m always +deluding myself, and swindling myself.’<br> +<br> +‘You are speaking quite softly. You are not tired, father?’<br> +<br> +‘Tired!’ echoed Caleb, with a great burst of animation, +‘what should tire me, Bertha? <i>I</i> was never tired. +What does it mean?’<br> +<br> +To give the greater force to his words, he checked himself in an involuntary +imitation of two half-length stretching and yawning figures on the mantel-shelf, +who were represented as in one eternal state of weariness from the waist +upwards; and hummed a fragment of a song. It was a Bacchanalian +song, something about a Sparkling Bowl. He sang it with an assumption +of a Devil-may-care voice, that made his face a thousand times more +meagre and more thoughtful than ever.<br> +<br> +‘What! You’re singing, are you?’ said Tackleton, +putting his head in at the door. ‘Go it! <i>I</i> +can’t sing.’<br> +<br> +Nobody would have suspected him of it. He hadn’t what is +generally termed a singing face, by any means.<br> +<br> +‘I can’t afford to sing,’ said Tackleton. ‘I’m +glad <i>you can</i>. I hope you can afford to work too. +Hardly time for both, I should think?’<br> +<br> +‘If you could only see him, Bertha, how he’s winking at +me!’ whispered Caleb. ‘Such a man to joke! you’d +think, if you didn’t know him, he was in earnest - wouldn’t +you now?’<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl smiled and nodded.<br> +<br> +‘The bird that can sing and won’t sing, must be made to +sing, they say,’ grumbled Tackleton. ‘What about the +owl that can’t sing, and oughtn’t to sing, and will sing; +is there anything that <i>he</i> should be made to do?’<br> +<br> +‘The extent to which he’s winking at this moment!’ +whispered Caleb to his daughter. ‘O, my gracious!’<br> +<br> +‘Always merry and light-hearted with us!’ cried the smiling +Bertha.<br> +<br> +‘O, you’re there, are you?’ answered Tackleton. +‘Poor Idiot!’<br> +<br> +He really did believe she was an Idiot; and he founded the belief, I +can’t say whether consciously or not, upon her being fond of him.<br> +<br> +‘Well! and being there, - how are you?’ said Tackleton, +in his grudging way.<br> +<br> +‘Oh! well; quite well. And as happy as even you can wish +me to be. As happy as you would make the whole world, if you could!’<br> +<br> +‘Poor Idiot!’ muttered Tackleton. ‘No gleam +of reason. Not a gleam!’<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl took his hand and kissed it; held it for a moment in +her own two hands; and laid her cheek against it tenderly, before releasing +it. There was such unspeakable affection and such fervent gratitude +in the act, that Tackleton himself was moved to say, in a milder growl +than usual:<br> +<br> +‘What’s the matter now?’<br> +<br> +‘I stood it close beside my pillow when I went to sleep last night, +and remembered it in my dreams. And when the day broke, and the +glorious red sun - the <i>red</i> sun, father?’<br> +<br> +‘Red in the mornings and the evenings, Bertha,’ said poor +Caleb, with a woeful glance at his employer.<br> +<br> +‘When it rose, and the bright light I almost fear to strike myself +against in walking, came into the room, I turned the little tree towards +it, and blessed Heaven for making things so precious, and blessed you +for sending them to cheer me!’<br> +<br> +‘Bedlam broke loose!’ said Tackleton under his breath. +‘We shall arrive at the strait-waistcoat and mufflers soon. +We’re getting on!’<br> +<br> +Caleb, with his hands hooked loosely in each other, stared vacantly +before him while his daughter spoke, as if he really were uncertain +(I believe he was) whether Tackleton had done anything to deserve her +thanks, or not. If he could have been a perfectly free agent, +at that moment, required, on pain of death, to kick the Toy-merchant, +or fall at his feet, according to his merits, I believe it would have +been an even chance which course he would have taken. Yet, Caleb +knew that with his own hands he had brought the little rose-tree home +for her, so carefully, and that with his own lips he had forged the +innocent deception which should help to keep her from suspecting how +much, how very much, he every day, denied himself, that she might be +the happier.<br> +<br> +‘Bertha!’ said Tackleton, assuming, for the nonce, a little +cordiality. ‘Come here.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! I can come straight to you! You needn’t +guide me!’ she rejoined.<br> +<br> +‘Shall I tell you a secret, Bertha?’<br> +<br> +‘If you will!’ she answered, eagerly.<br> +<br> +How bright the darkened face! How adorned with light, the listening +head!<br> +<br> +‘This is the day on which little what’s-her-name, the spoilt +child, Peerybingle’s wife, pays her regular visit to you - makes +her fantastic Pic-Nic here; an’t it?’ said Tackleton, with +a strong expression of distaste for the whole concern.<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ replied Bertha. ‘This is the day.’<br> +<br> +‘I thought so,’ said Tackleton. ‘I should like +to join the party.’<br> +<br> +‘Do you hear that, father!’ cried the Blind Girl in an ecstasy.<br> +<br> +‘Yes, yes, I hear it,’ murmured Caleb, with the fixed look +of a sleep-walker; ‘but I don’t believe it. It’s +one of my lies, I’ve no doubt.’<br> +<br> +‘You see I - I want to bring the Peerybingles a little more into +company with May Fielding,’ said Tackleton. ‘I am +going to be married to May.’<br> +<br> +‘Married!’ cried the Blind Girl, starting from him.<br> +<br> +‘She’s such a con-founded Idiot,’ muttered Tackleton, +‘that I was afraid she’d never comprehend me. Ah, +Bertha! Married! Church, parson, clerk, beadle, glass-coach, +bells, breakfast, bride-cake, favours, marrow-bones, cleavers, and all +the rest of the tomfoolery. A wedding, you know; a wedding. +Don’t you know what a wedding is?’<br> +<br> +‘I know,’ replied the Blind Girl, in a gentle tone. +‘I understand!’<br> +<br> +‘Do you?’ muttered Tackleton. ‘It’s more +than I expected. Well! On that account I want to join the +party, and to bring May and her mother. I’ll send in a little +something or other, before the afternoon. A cold leg of mutton, +or some comfortable trifle of that sort. You’ll expect me?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ she answered.<br> +<br> +She had drooped her head, and turned away; and so stood, with her hands +crossed, musing.<br> +<br> +‘I don’t think you will,’ muttered Tackleton, looking +at her; ‘for you seem to have forgotten all about it, already. +Caleb!’<br> +<br> +‘I may venture to say I’m here, I suppose,’ thought +Caleb. ‘Sir!’<br> +<br> +‘Take care she don’t forget what I’ve been saying +to her.’<br> +<br> +‘<i>She</i> never forgets,’ returned Caleb. ‘It’s +one of the few things she an’t clever in.’<br> +<br> +‘Every man thinks his own geese swans,’ observed the Toy-merchant, +with a shrug. ‘Poor devil!’<br> +<br> +Having delivered himself of which remark, with infinite contempt, old +Gruff and Tackleton withdrew.<br> +<br> +Bertha remained where he had left her, lost in meditation. The +gaiety had vanished from her downcast face, and it was very sad. +Three or four times she shook her head, as if bewailing some remembrance +or some loss; but her sorrowful reflections found no vent in words.<br> +<br> +It was not until Caleb had been occupied, some time, in yoking a team +of horses to a waggon by the summary process of nailing the harness +to the vital parts of their bodies, that she drew near to his working-stool, +and sitting down beside him, said:<br> +<br> +‘Father, I am lonely in the dark. I want my eyes, my patient, +willing eyes.’<br> +<br> +‘Here they are,’ said Caleb. ‘Always ready. +They are more yours than mine, Bertha, any hour in the four-and-twenty. +What shall your eyes do for you, dear?’<br> +<br> +‘Look round the room, father.’<br> +<br> +‘All right,’ said Caleb. ‘No sooner said than +done, Bertha.’<br> +<br> +‘Tell me about it.’<br> +<br> +‘It’s much the same as usual,’ said Caleb. ‘Homely, +but very snug. The gay colours on the walls; the bright flowers +on the plates and dishes; the shining wood, where there are beams or +panels; the general cheerfulness and neatness of the building; make +it very pretty.’<br> +<br> +Cheerful and neat it was wherever Bertha’s hands could busy themselves. +But nowhere else, were cheerfulness and neatness possible, in the old +crazy shed which Caleb’s fancy so transformed.<br> +<br> +‘You have your working dress on, and are not so gallant as when +you wear the handsome coat?’ said Bertha, touching him.<br> +<br> +‘Not quite so gallant,’ answered Caleb. ‘Pretty +brisk though.’<br> +<br> +‘Father,’ said the Blind Girl, drawing close to his side, +and stealing one arm round his neck, ‘tell me something about +May. She is very fair?’<br> +<br> +‘She is indeed,’ said Caleb. And she was indeed. +It was quite a rare thing to Caleb, not to have to draw on his invention.<br> +<br> +‘Her hair is dark,’ said Bertha, pensively, ‘darker +than mine. Her voice is sweet and musical, I know. I have +often loved to hear it. Her shape - ’<br> +<br> +‘There’s not a Doll’s in all the room to equal it,’ +said Caleb. ‘And her eyes! - ’<br> +<br> +He stopped; for Bertha had drawn closer round his neck, and from the +arm that clung about him, came a warning pressure which he understood +too well.<br> +<br> +He coughed a moment, hammered for a moment, and then fell back upon +the song about the sparkling bowl; his infallible resource in all such +difficulties.<br> +<br> +‘Our friend, father, our benefactor. I am never tired, you +know, of hearing about him. - Now, was I ever?’ she said, hastily.<br> +<br> +‘Of course not,’ answered Caleb, ‘and with reason.’<br> +<br> +‘Ah! With how much reason!’ cried the Blind Girl. +With such fervency, that Caleb, though his motives were so pure, could +not endure to meet her face; but dropped his eyes, as if she could have +read in them his innocent deceit.<br> +<br> +‘Then, tell me again about him, dear father,’ said Bertha. +‘Many times again! His face is benevolent, kind, and tender. +Honest and true, I am sure it is. The manly heart that tries to +cloak all favours with a show of roughness and unwillingness, beats +in its every look and glance.’<br> +<br> +‘And makes it noble!’ added Caleb, in his quiet desperation.<br> +<br> +‘And makes it noble!’ cried the Blind Girl. ‘He +is older than May, father.’<br> +<br> +‘Ye-es,’ said Caleb, reluctantly. ‘He’s +a little older than May. But that don’t signify.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh father, yes! To be his patient companion in infirmity +and age; to be his gentle nurse in sickness, and his constant friend +in suffering and sorrow; to know no weariness in working for his sake; +to watch him, tend him, sit beside his bed and talk to him awake, and +pray for him asleep; what privileges these would be! What opportunities +for proving all her truth and devotion to him! Would she do all +this, dear father?<br> +<br> +‘No doubt of it,’ said Caleb.<br> +<br> +‘I love her, father; I can love her from my soul!’ exclaimed +the Blind Girl. And saying so, she laid her poor blind face on +Caleb’s shoulder, and so wept and wept, that he was almost sorry +to have brought that tearful happiness upon her.<br> +<br> +In the mean time, there had been a pretty sharp commotion at John Peerybingle’s, +for little Mrs. Peerybingle naturally couldn’t think of going +anywhere without the Baby; and to get the Baby under weigh took time. +Not that there was much of the Baby, speaking of it as a thing of weight +and measure, but there was a vast deal to do about and about it, and +it all had to be done by easy stages. For instance, when the Baby +was got, by hook and by crook, to a certain point of dressing, and you +might have rationally supposed that another touch or two would finish +him off, and turn him out a tip-top Baby challenging the world, he was +unexpectedly extinguished in a flannel cap, and hustled off to bed; +where he simmered (so to speak) between two blankets for the best part +of an hour. From this state of inaction he was then recalled, +shining very much and roaring violently, to partake of - well? +I would rather say, if you’ll permit me to speak generally - of +a slight repast. After which, he went to sleep again. Mrs. +Peerybingle took advantage of this interval, to make herself as smart +in a small way as ever you saw anybody in all your life; and, during +the same short truce, Miss Slowboy insinuated herself into a spencer +of a fashion so surprising and ingenious, that it had no connection +with herself, or anything else in the universe, but was a shrunken, +dog’s-eared, independent fact, pursuing its lonely course without +the least regard to anybody. By this time, the Baby, being all +alive again, was invested, by the united efforts of Mrs. Peerybingle +and Miss Slowboy, with a cream-coloured mantle for its body, and a sort +of nankeen raised-pie for its head; and so in course of time they all +three got down to the door, where the old horse had already taken more +than the full value of his day’s toll out of the Turnpike Trust, +by tearing up the road with his impatient autographs; and whence Boxer +might be dimly seen in the remote perspective, standing looking back, +and tempting him to come on without orders.<br> +<br> +As to a chair, or anything of that kind for helping Mrs. Peerybingle +into the cart, you know very little of John, if you think <i>that</i> +was necessary. Before you could have seen him lift her from the +ground, there she was in her place, fresh and rosy, saying, ‘John! +How <i>can</i> you! Think of Tilly!’<br> +<br> +If I might be allowed to mention a young lady’s legs, on any terms, +I would observe of Miss Slowboy’s that there was a fatality about +them which rendered them singularly liable to be grazed; and that she +never effected the smallest ascent or descent, without recording the +circumstance upon them with a notch, as Robinson Crusoe marked the days +upon his wooden calendar. But as this might be considered ungenteel, +I’ll think of it.<br> +<br> +‘John? You’ve got the Basket with the Veal and Ham-Pie +and things, and the bottles of Beer?’ said Dot. ‘If +you haven’t, you must turn round again, this very minute.’<br> +<br> +‘You’re a nice little article,’ returned the Carrier, +‘to be talking about turning round, after keeping me a full quarter +of an hour behind my time.’<br> +<br> +‘I am sorry for it, John,’ said Dot in a great bustle, ‘but +I really could not think of going to Bertha’s - I would not do +it, John, on any account - without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, +and the bottles of Beer. Way!’<br> +<br> +This monosyllable was addressed to the horse, who didn’t mind +it at all.<br> +<br> +‘Oh <i>do</i> way, John!’ said Mrs. Peerybingle. ‘Please!’<br> +<br> +‘It’ll be time enough to do that,’ returned John, +‘when I begin to leave things behind me. The basket’s +here, safe enough.’<br> +<br> +‘What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John, not to have said +so, at once, and save me such a turn! I declared I wouldn’t +go to Bertha’s without the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the +bottles of Beer, for any money. Regularly once a fortnight ever +since we have been married, John, have we made our little Pic-Nic there. +If anything was to go wrong with it, I should almost think we were never +to be lucky again.’<br> +<br> +‘It was a kind thought in the first instance,’ said the +Carrier: ‘and I honour you for it, little woman.’<br> +<br> +‘My dear John,’ replied Dot, turning very red, ‘don’t +talk about honouring <i>me</i>. Good Gracious!’<br> +<br> +‘By the bye - ’ observed the Carrier. ‘That +old gentleman - ’<br> +<br> +Again so visibly, and instantly embarrassed!<br> +<br> +‘He’s an odd fish,’ said the Carrier, looking straight +along the road before them. ‘I can’t make him out. +I don’t believe there’s any harm in him.’<br> +<br> +‘None at all. I’m - I’m sure there’s none +at all.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes,’ said the Carrier, with his eyes attracted to her +face by the great earnestness of her manner. ‘I am glad +you feel so certain of it, because it’s a confirmation to me. +It’s curious that he should have taken it into his head to ask +leave to go on lodging with us; an’t it? Things come about +so strangely.’<br> +<br> +‘So very strangely,’ she rejoined in a low voice, scarcely +audible.<br> +<br> +‘However, he’s a good-natured old gentleman,’ said +John, ‘and pays as a gentleman, and I think his word is to be +relied upon, like a gentleman’s. I had quite a long talk +with him this morning: he can hear me better already, he says, as he +gets more used to my voice. He told me a great deal about himself, +and I told him a great deal about myself, and a rare lot of questions +he asked me. I gave him information about my having two beats, +you know, in my business; one day to the right from our house and back +again; another day to the left from our house and back again (for he’s +a stranger and don’t know the names of places about here); and +he seemed quite pleased. “Why, then I shall be returning +home to-night your way,” he says, “when I thought you’d +be coming in an exactly opposite direction. That’s capital! +I may trouble you for another lift perhaps, but I’ll engage not +to fall so sound asleep again.” He <i>was</i> sound asleep, +sure-ly! - Dot! what are you thinking of?’<br> +<br> +‘Thinking of, John? I - I was listening to you.’<br> +<br> +‘O! That’s all right!’ said the honest Carrier. +‘I was afraid, from the look of your face, that I had gone rambling +on so long, as to set you thinking about something else. I was +very near it, I’ll be bound.’<br> +<br> +Dot making no reply, they jogged on, for some little time, in silence. +But, it was not easy to remain silent very long in John Peerybingle’s +cart, for everybody on the road had something to say. Though it +might only be ‘How are you!’ and indeed it was very often +nothing else, still, to give that back again in the right spirit of +cordiality, required, not merely a nod and a smile, but as wholesome +an action of the lungs withal, as a long-winded Parliamentary speech. +Sometimes, passengers on foot, or horseback, plodded on a little way +beside the cart, for the express purpose of having a chat; and then +there was a great deal to be said, on both sides.<br> +<br> +Then, Boxer gave occasion to more good-natured recognitions of, and +by, the Carrier, than half-a-dozen Christians could have done! +Everybody knew him, all along the road - especially the fowls and pigs, +who when they saw him approaching, with his body all on one side, and +his ears pricked up inquisitively, and that knob of a tail making the +most of itself in the air, immediately withdrew into remote back settlements, +without waiting for the honour of a nearer acquaintance. He had +business everywhere; going down all the turnings, looking into all the +wells, bolting in and out of all the cottages, dashing into the midst +of all the Dame-Schools, fluttering all the pigeons, magnifying the +tails of all the cats, and trotting into the public-houses like a regular +customer. Wherever he went, somebody or other might have been +heard to cry, ‘Halloa! Here’s Boxer!’ and out +came that somebody forthwith, accompanied by at least two or three other +somebodies, to give John Peerybingle and his pretty wife, Good Day.<br> +<br> +The packages and parcels for the errand cart, were numerous; and there +were many stoppages to take them in and give them out, which were not +by any means the worst parts of the journey. Some people were +so full of expectation about their parcels, and other people were so +full of wonder about their parcels, and other people were so full of +inexhaustible directions about their parcels, and John had such a lively +interest in all the parcels, that it was as good as a play. Likewise, +there were articles to carry, which required to be considered and discussed, +and in reference to the adjustment and disposition of which, councils +had to be holden by the Carrier and the senders: at which Boxer usually +assisted, in short fits of the closest attention, and long fits of tearing +round and round the assembled sages and barking himself hoarse. +Of all these little incidents, Dot was the amused and open-eyed spectatress +from her chair in the cart; and as she sat there, looking on - a charming +little portrait framed to admiration by the tilt - there was no lack +of nudgings and glancings and whisperings and envyings among the younger +men. And this delighted John the Carrier, beyond measure; for +he was proud to have his little wife admired, knowing that she didn’t +mind it - that, if anything, she rather liked it perhaps.<br> +<br> +The trip was a little foggy, to be sure, in the January weather; and +was raw and cold. But who cared for such trifles? Not Dot, +decidedly. Not Tilly Slowboy, for she deemed sitting in a cart, +on any terms, to be the highest point of human joys; the crowning circumstance +of earthly hopes. Not the Baby, I’ll be sworn; for it’s +not in Baby nature to be warmer or more sound asleep, though its capacity +is great in both respects, than that blessed young Peerybingle was, +all the way.<br> +<br> +You couldn’t see very far in the fog, of course; but you could +see a great deal! It’s astonishing how much you may see, +in a thicker fog than that, if you will only take the trouble to look +for it. Why, even to sit watching for the Fairy-rings in the fields, +and for the patches of hoar-frost still lingering in the shade, near +hedges and by trees, was a pleasant occupation: to make no mention of +the unexpected shapes in which the trees themselves came starting out +of the mist, and glided into it again. The hedges were tangled +and bare, and waved a multitude of blighted garlands in the wind; but +there was no discouragement in this. It was agreeable to contemplate; +for it made the fireside warmer in possession, and the summer greener +in expectancy. The river looked chilly; but it was in motion, +and moving at a good pace - which was a great point. The canal +was rather slow and torpid; that must be admitted. Never mind. +It would freeze the sooner when the frost set fairly in, and then there +would be skating, and sliding; and the heavy old barges, frozen up somewhere +near a wharf, would smoke their rusty iron chimney pipes all day, and +have a lazy time of it.<br> +<br> +In one place, there was a great mound of weeds or stubble burning; and +they watched the fire, so white in the daytime, flaring through the +fog, with only here and there a dash of red in it, until, in consequence, +as she observed, of the smoke ‘getting up her nose,’ Miss +Slowboy choked - she could do anything of that sort, on the smallest +provocation - and woke the Baby, who wouldn’t go to sleep again. +But, Boxer, who was in advance some quarter of a mile or so, had already +passed the outposts of the town, and gained the corner of the street +where Caleb and his daughter lived; and long before they had reached +the door, he and the Blind Girl were on the pavement waiting to receive +them.<br> +<br> +Boxer, by the way, made certain delicate distinctions of his own, in +his communication with Bertha, which persuade me fully that he knew +her to be blind. He never sought to attract her attention by looking +at her, as he often did with other people, but touched her invariably. +What experience he could ever have had of blind people or blind dogs, +I don’t know. He had never lived with a blind master; nor +had Mr. Boxer the elder, nor Mrs. Boxer, nor any of his respectable +family on either side, ever been visited with blindness, that I am aware +of. He may have found it out for himself, perhaps, but he had +got hold of it somehow; and therefore he had hold of Bertha too, by +the skirt, and kept hold, until Mrs. Peerybingle and the Baby, and Miss +Slowboy, and the basket, were all got safely within doors.<br> +<br> +May Fielding was already come; and so was her mother - a little querulous +chip of an old lady with a peevish face, who, in right of having preserved +a waist like a bedpost, was supposed to be a most transcendent figure; +and who, in consequence of having once been better off, or of labouring +under an impression that she might have been, if something had happened +which never did happen, and seemed to have never been particularly likely +to come to pass - but it’s all the same - was very genteel and +patronising indeed. Gruff and Tackleton was also there, doing +the agreeable, with the evident sensation of being as perfectly at home, +and as unquestionably in his own element, as a fresh young salmon on +the top of the Great Pyramid.<br> +<br> +‘May! My dear old friend!’ cried Dot, running up to +meet her. ‘What a happiness to see you.’<br> +<br> +Her old friend was, to the full, as hearty and as glad as she; and it +really was, if you’ll believe me, quite a pleasant sight to see +them embrace. Tackleton was a man of taste beyond all question. +May was very pretty.<br> +<br> +You know sometimes, when you are used to a pretty face, how, when it +comes into contact and comparison with another pretty face, it seems +for the moment to be homely and faded, and hardly to deserve the high +opinion you have had of it. Now, this was not at all the case, +either with Dot or May; for May’s face set off Dot’s, and +Dot’s face set off May’s, so naturally and agreeably, that, +as John Peerybingle was very near saying when he came into the room, +they ought to have been born sisters - which was the only improvement +you could have suggested.<br> +<br> +Tackleton had brought his leg of mutton, and, wonderful to relate, a +tart besides - but we don’t mind a little dissipation when our +brides are in the case. we don’t get married every day - and in +addition to these dainties, there were the Veal and Ham-Pie, and ‘things,’ +as Mrs. Peerybingle called them; which were chiefly nuts and oranges, +and cakes, and such small deer. When the repast was set forth +on the board, flanked by Caleb’s contribution, which was a great +wooden bowl of smoking potatoes (he was prohibited, by solemn compact, +from producing any other viands), Tackleton led his intended mother-in-law +to the post of honour. For the better gracing of this place at +the high festival, the majestic old soul had adorned herself with a +cap, calculated to inspire the thoughtless with sentiments of awe. +She also wore her gloves. But let us be genteel, or die!<br> +<br> +Caleb sat next his daughter; Dot and her old schoolfellow were side +by side; the good Carrier took care of the bottom of the table. +Miss Slowboy was isolated, for the time being, from every article of +furniture but the chair she sat on, that she might have nothing else +to knock the Baby’s head against.<br> +<br> +As Tilly stared about her at the dolls and toys, they stared at her +and at the company. The venerable old gentlemen at the street +doors (who were all in full action) showed especial interest in the +party, pausing occasionally before leaping, as if they were listening +to the conversation, and then plunging wildly over and over, a great +many times, without halting for breath - as in a frantic state of delight +with the whole proceedings.<br> +<br> +Certainly, if these old gentlemen were inclined to have a fiendish joy +in the contemplation of Tackleton’s discomfiture, they had good +reason to be satisfied. Tackleton couldn’t get on at all; +and the more cheerful his intended bride became in Dot’s society, +the less he liked it, though he had brought them together for that purpose. +For he was a regular dog in the manger, was Tackleton; and when they +laughed and he couldn’t, he took it into his head, immediately, +that they must be laughing at him.<br> +<br> +‘Ah, May!’ said Dot. ‘Dear dear, what changes! +To talk of those merry school-days makes one young again.’<br> +<br> +‘Why, you an’t particularly old, at any time; are you?’ +said Tackleton.<br> +<br> +‘Look at my sober plodding husband there,’ returned Dot. +‘He adds twenty years to my age at least. Don’t you, +John?’<br> +<br> +‘Forty,’ John replied.<br> +<br> +‘How many <i>you</i>’ll add to May’s, I am sure I +don’t know,’ said Dot, laughing. ‘But she can’t +be much less than a hundred years of age on her next birthday.’<br> +<br> +‘Ha ha!’ laughed Tackleton. Hollow as a drum, that +laugh though. And he looked as if he could have twisted Dot’s +neck, comfortably.<br> +<br> +‘Dear dear!’ said Dot. ‘Only to remember how +we used to talk, at school, about the husbands we would choose. +I don’t know how young, and how handsome, and how gay, and how +lively, mine was not to be! And as to May’s! - Ah dear! +I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, when I think what silly +girls we were.’<br> +<br> +May seemed to know which to do; for the colour flushed into her face, +and tears stood in her eyes.<br> +<br> +‘Even the very persons themselves - real live young men - were +fixed on sometimes,’ said Dot. ‘We little thought +how things would come about. I never fixed on John I’m sure; +I never so much as thought of him. And if I had told you, you +were ever to be married to Mr. Tackleton, why you’d have slapped +me. Wouldn’t you, May?’<br> +<br> +Though May didn’t say yes, she certainly didn’t say no, +or express no, by any means.<br> +<br> +Tackleton laughed - quite shouted, he laughed so loud. John Peerybingle +laughed too, in his ordinary good-natured and contented manner; but +his was a mere whisper of a laugh, to Tackleton’s.<br> +<br> +‘You couldn’t help yourselves, for all that. You couldn’t +resist us, you see,’ said Tackleton. ‘Here we are! +Here we are!’<br> +<br> +‘Where are your gay young bridegrooms now!’<br> +<br> +‘Some of them are dead,’ said Dot; ‘and some of them +forgotten. Some of them, if they could stand among us at this +moment, would not believe we were the same creatures; would not believe +that what they saw and heard was real, and we <i>could</i> forget them +so. No! they would not believe one word of it!’<br> +<br> +‘Why, Dot!’ exclaimed the Carrier. ‘Little woman!’<br> +<br> +She had spoken with such earnestness and fire, that she stood in need +of some recalling to herself, without doubt. Her husband’s +check was very gentle, for he merely interfered, as he supposed, to +shield old Tackleton; but it proved effectual, for she stopped, and +said no more. There was an uncommon agitation, even in her silence, +which the wary Tackleton, who had brought his half-shut eye to bear +upon her, noted closely, and remembered to some purpose too.<br> +<br> +May uttered no word, good or bad, but sat quite still, with her eyes +cast down, and made no sign of interest in what had passed. The +good lady her mother now interposed, observing, in the first instance, +that girls were girls, and byegones byegones, and that so long as young +people were young and thoughtless, they would probably conduct themselves +like young and thoughtless persons: with two or three other positions +of a no less sound and incontrovertible character. She then remarked, +in a devout spirit, that she thanked Heaven she had always found in +her daughter May, a dutiful and obedient child; for which she took no +credit to herself, though she had every reason to believe it was entirely +owing to herself. With regard to Mr. Tackleton she said, That +he was in a moral point of view an undeniable individual, and That he +was in an eligible point of view a son-in-law to be desired, no one +in their senses could doubt. (She was very emphatic here.) +With regard to the family into which he was so soon about, after some +solicitation, to be admitted, she believed Mr. Tackleton knew that, +although reduced in purse, it had some pretensions to gentility; and +if certain circumstances, not wholly unconnected, she would go so far +as to say, with the Indigo Trade, but to which she would not more particularly +refer, had happened differently, it might perhaps have been in possession +of wealth. She then remarked that she would not allude to the +past, and would not mention that her daughter had for some time rejected +the suit of Mr. Tackleton; and that she would not say a great many other +things which she did say, at great length. Finally, she delivered +it as the general result of her observation and experience, that those +marriages in which there was least of what was romantically and sillily +called love, were always the happiest; and that she anticipated the +greatest possible amount of bliss - not rapturous bliss; but the solid, +steady-going article - from the approaching nuptials. She concluded +by informing the company that to-morrow was the day she had lived for, +expressly; and that when it was over, she would desire nothing better +than to be packed up and disposed of, in any genteel place of burial.<br> +<br> +As these remarks were quite unanswerable - which is the happy property +of all remarks that are sufficiently wide of the purpose - they changed +the current of the conversation, and diverted the general attention +to the Veal and Ham-Pie, the cold mutton, the potatoes, and the tart. +In order that the bottled beer might not be slighted, John Peerybingle +proposed To-morrow: the Wedding-Day; and called upon them to drink a +bumper to it, before he proceeded on his journey.<br> +<br> +For you ought to know that he only rested there, and gave the old horse +a bait. He had to go some four of five miles farther on; and when +he returned in the evening, he called for Dot, and took another rest +on his way home. This was the order of the day on all the Pic-Nic +occasions, had been, ever since their institution.<br> +<br> +There were two persons present, besides the bride and bridegroom elect, +who did but indifferent honour to the toast. One of these was +Dot, too flushed and discomposed to adapt herself to any small occurrence +of the moment; the other, Bertha, who rose up hurriedly, before the +rest, and left the table.<br> +<br> +‘Good bye!’ said stout John Peerybingle, pulling on his +dreadnought coat. ‘I shall be back at the old time. +Good bye all!’<br> +<br> +‘Good bye, John,’ returned Caleb.<br> +<br> +He seemed to say it by rote, and to wave his hand in the same unconscious +manner; for he stood observing Bertha with an anxious wondering face, +that never altered its expression.<br> +<br> +‘Good bye, young shaver!’ said the jolly Carrier, bending +down to kiss the child; which Tilly Slowboy, now intent upon her knife +and fork, had deposited asleep (and strange to say, without damage) +in a little cot of Bertha’s furnishing; ‘good bye! +Time will come, I suppose, when <i>you’ll</i> turn out into the +cold, my little friend, and leave your old father to enjoy his pipe +and his rheumatics in the chimney-corner; eh? Where’s Dot?’<br> +<br> +‘I’m here, John!’ she said, starting.<br> +<br> +‘Come, come!’ returned the Carrier, clapping his sounding +hands. ‘Where’s the pipe?’<br> +<br> +‘I quite forgot the pipe, John.’<br> +<br> +Forgot the pipe! Was such a wonder ever heard of! She! +Forgot the pipe!<br> +<br> +‘I’ll - I’ll fill it directly. It’s soon +done.’<br> +<br> +But it was not so soon done, either. It lay in the usual place +- the Carrier’s dreadnought pocket - with the little pouch, her +own work, from which she was used to fill it, but her hand shook so, +that she entangled it (and yet her hand was small enough to have come +out easily, I am sure), and bungled terribly. The filling of the +pipe and lighting it, those little offices in which I have commended +her discretion, were vilely done, from first to last. During the +whole process, Tackleton stood looking on maliciously with the half-closed +eye; which, whenever it met hers - or caught it, for it can hardly be +said to have ever met another eye: rather being a kind of trap to snatch +it up - augmented her confusion in a most remarkable degree.<br> +<br> +‘Why, what a clumsy Dot you are, this afternoon!’ said John. +‘I could have done it better myself, I verify believe!’<br> +<br> +With these good-natured words, he strode away, and presently was heard, +in company with Boxer, and the old horse, and the cart, making lively +music down the road. What time the dreamy Caleb still stood, watching +his blind daughter, with the same expression on his face.<br> +<br> +‘Bertha!’ said Caleb, softly. ‘What has happened? +How changed you are, my darling, in a few hours - since this morning. +<i>You</i> silent and dull all day! What is it? Tell me!’<br> +<br> +‘Oh father, father!’ cried the Blind Girl, bursting into +tears. ‘Oh my hard, hard fate!’<br> +<br> +Caleb drew his hand across his eyes before he answered her.<br> +<br> +‘But think how cheerful and how happy you have been, Bertha! +How good, and how much loved, by many people.’<br> +<br> +‘That strikes me to the heart, dear father! Always so mindful +of me! Always so kind to me!’<br> +<br> +Caleb was very much perplexed to understand her.<br> +<br> +‘To be - to be blind, Bertha, my poor dear,’ he faltered, +‘is a great affliction; but - ’<br> +<br> +‘I have never felt it!’ cried the Blind Girl. ‘I +have never felt it, in its fulness. Never! I have sometimes +wished that I could see you, or could see him - only once, dear father, +only for one little minute - that I might know what it is I treasure +up,’ she laid her hands upon her breast, ‘and hold here! +That I might be sure and have it right! And sometimes (but then +I was a child) I have wept in my prayers at night, to think that when +your images ascended from my heart to Heaven, they might not be the +true resemblance of yourselves. But I have never had these feelings +long. They have passed away and left me tranquil and contented.’<br> +<br> +‘And they will again,’ said Caleb.<br> +<br> +‘But, father! Oh my good, gentle father, bear with me, if +I am wicked!’ said the Blind Girl. ‘This is not the +sorrow that so weighs me down!’<br> +<br> +Her father could not choose but let his moist eyes overflow; she was +so earnest and pathetic, but he did not understand her, yet.<br> +<br> +‘Bring her to me,’ said Bertha. ‘I cannot hold +it closed and shut within myself. Bring her to me, father!’<br> +<br> +She knew he hesitated, and said, ‘May. Bring May!’<br> +<br> +May heard the mention of her name, and coming quietly towards her, touched +her on the arm. The Blind Girl turned immediately, and held her +by both hands.<br> +<br> +‘Look into my face, Dear heart, Sweet heart!’ said Bertha. +‘Read it with your beautiful eyes, and tell me if the truth is +written on it.’<br> +<br> +‘Dear Bertha, Yes!’<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl still, upturning the blank sightless face, down which +the tears were coursing fast, addressed her in these words:<br> +<br> +‘There is not, in my soul, a wish or thought that is not for your +good, bright May! There is not, in my soul, a grateful recollection +stronger than the deep remembrance which is stored there, of the many +many times when, in the full pride of sight and beauty, you have had +consideration for Blind Bertha, even when we two were children, or when +Bertha was as much a child as ever blindness can be! Every blessing +on your head! Light upon your happy course! Not the less, +my dear May;’ and she drew towards her, in a closer grasp; ‘not +the less, my bird, because, to-day, the knowledge that you are to be +His wife has wrung my heart almost to breaking! Father, May, Mary! +oh forgive me that it is so, for the sake of all he has done to relieve +the weariness of my dark life: and for the sake of the belief you have +in me, when I call Heaven to witness that I could not wish him married +to a wife more worthy of his goodness!’<br> +<br> +While speaking, she had released May Fielding’s hands, and clasped +her garments in an attitude of mingled supplication and love. +Sinking lower and lower down, as she proceeded in her strange confession, +she dropped at last at the feet of her friend, and hid her blind face +in the folds of her dress.<br> +<br> +‘Great Power!’ exclaimed her father, smitten at one blow +with the truth, ‘have I deceived her from the cradle, but to break +her heart at last!’<br> +<br> +It was well for all of them that Dot, that beaming, useful, busy little +Dot - for such she was, whatever faults she had, and however you may +learn to hate her, in good time - it was well for all of them, I say, +that she was there: or where this would have ended, it were hard to +tell. But Dot, recovering her self-possession, interposed, before +May could reply, or Caleb say another word.<br> +<br> +‘Come, come, dear Bertha! come away with me! Give her your +arm, May. So! How composed she is, you see, already; and +how good it is of her to mind us,’ said the cheery little woman, +kissing her upon the forehead. ‘Come away, dear Bertha. +Come! and here’s her good father will come with her; won’t +you, Caleb? To - be - sure!’<br> +<br> +Well, well! she was a noble little Dot in such things, and it must have +been an obdurate nature that could have withstood her influence. +When she had got poor Caleb and his Bertha away, that they might comfort +and console each other, as she knew they only could, she presently came +bouncing back, - the saying is, as fresh as any daisy; I say fresher +- to mount guard over that bridling little piece of consequence in the +cap and gloves, and prevent the dear old creature from making discoveries.<br> +<br> +‘So bring me the precious Baby, Tilly,’ said she, drawing +a chair to the fire; ‘and while I have it in my lap, here’s +Mrs. Fielding, Tilly, will tell me all about the management of Babies, +and put me right in twenty points where I’m as wrong as can be. +Won’t you, Mrs. Fielding?’<br> +<br> +Not even the Welsh Giant, who, according to the popular expression, +was so ‘slow’ as to perform a fatal surgical operation upon +himself, in emulation of a juggling-trick achieved by his arch-enemy +at breakfast-time; not even he fell half so readily into the snare prepared +for him, as the old lady did into this artful pitfall. The fact +of Tackleton having walked out; and furthermore, of two or three people +having been talking together at a distance, for two minutes, leaving +her to her own resources; was quite enough to have put her on her dignity, +and the bewailment of that mysterious convulsion in the Indigo trade, +for four-and-twenty hours. But this becoming deference to her +experience, on the part of the young mother, was so irresistible, that +after a short affectation of humility, she began to enlighten her with +the best grace in the world; and sitting bolt upright before the wicked +Dot, she did, in half an hour, deliver more infallible domestic recipes +and precepts, than would (if acted on) have utterly destroyed and done +up that Young Peerybingle, though he had been an Infant Samson.<br> +<br> +To change the theme, Dot did a little needlework - she carried the contents +of a whole workbox in her pocket; however she contrived it, I don’t +know - then did a little nursing; then a little more needlework; then +had a little whispering chat with May, while the old lady dozed; and +so in little bits of bustle, which was quite her manner always, found +it a very short afternoon. Then, as it grew dark, and as it was +a solemn part of this Institution of the Pic-Nic that she should perform +all Bertha’s household tasks, she trimmed the fire, and swept +the hearth, and set the tea-board out, and drew the curtain, and lighted +a candle. Then she played an air or two on a rude kind of harp, +which Caleb had contrived for Bertha, and played them very well; for +Nature had made her delicate little ear as choice a one for music as +it would have been for jewels, if she had had any to wear. By +this time it was the established hour for having tea; and Tackleton +came back again, to share the meal, and spend the evening.<br> +<br> +Caleb and Bertha had returned some time before, and Caleb had sat down +to his afternoon’s work. But he couldn’t settle to +it, poor fellow, being anxious and remorseful for his daughter. +It was touching to see him sitting idle on his working-stool, regarding +her so wistfully, and always saying in his face, ‘Have I deceived +her from her cradle, but to break her heart!’<br> +<br> +When it was night, and tea was done, and Dot had nothing more to do +in washing up the cups and saucers; in a word - for I must come to it, +and there is no use in putting it off - when the time drew nigh for +expecting the Carrier’s return in every sound of distant wheels, +her manner changed again, her colour came and went, and she was very +restless. Not as good wives are, when listening for their husbands. +No, no, no. It was another sort of restlessness from that.<br> +<br> +Wheels heard. A horse’s feet. The barking of a dog. +The gradual approach of all the sounds. The scratching paw of +Boxer at the door!<br> +<br> +‘Whose step is that!’ cried Bertha, starting up.<br> +<br> +‘Whose step?’ returned the Carrier, standing in the portal, +with his brown face ruddy as a winter berry from the keen night air. +‘Why, mine.’<br> +<br> +‘The other step,’ said Bertha. ‘The man’s +tread behind you!’<br> +<br> +‘She is not to be deceived,’ observed the Carrier, laughing. +‘Come along, sir. You’ll be welcome, never fear!’<br> +<br> +He spoke in a loud tone; and as he spoke, the deaf old gentleman entered.<br> +<br> +‘He’s not so much a stranger, that you haven’t seen +him once, Caleb,’ said the Carrier. ‘You’ll +give him house-room till we go?’<br> +<br> +‘Oh surely, John, and take it as an honour.’<br> +<br> +‘He’s the best company on earth, to talk secrets in,’ +said John. ‘I have reasonable good lungs, but he tries ’em, +I can tell you. Sit down, sir. All friends here, and glad +to see you!’<br> +<br> +When he had imparted this assurance, in a voice that amply corroborated +what he had said about his lungs, he added in his natural tone, ‘A +chair in the chimney-corner, and leave to sit quite silent and look +pleasantly about him, is all he cares for. He’s easily pleased.’<br> +<br> +Bertha had been listening intently. She called Caleb to her side, +when he had set the chair, and asked him, in a low voice, to describe +their visitor. When he had done so (truly now; with scrupulous +fidelity), she moved, for the first time since he had come in, and sighed, +and seemed to have no further interest concerning him.<br> +<br> +The Carrier was in high spirits, good fellow that he was, and fonder +of his little wife than ever.<br> +<br> +‘A clumsy Dot she was, this afternoon!’ he said, encircling +her with his rough arm, as she stood, removed from the rest; ‘and +yet I like her somehow. See yonder, Dot!’<br> +<br> +He pointed to the old man. She looked down. I think she +trembled.<br> +<br> +‘He’s - ha ha ha! - he’s full of admiration for you!’ +said the Carrier. ‘Talked of nothing else, the whole way +here. Why, he’s a brave old boy. I like him for it!’<br> +<br> +‘I wish he had had a better subject, John,’ she said, with +an uneasy glance about the room. At Tackleton especially.<br> +<br> +‘A better subject!’ cried the jovial John. ‘There’s +no such thing. Come, off with the great-coat, off with the thick +shawl, off with the heavy wrappers! and a cosy half-hour by the fire! +My humble service, Mistress. A game at cribbage, you and I? +That’s hearty. The cards and board, Dot. And a glass +of beer here, if there’s any left, small wife!’<br> +<br> +His challenge was addressed to the old lady, who accepting it with gracious +readiness, they were soon engaged upon the game. At first, the +Carrier looked about him sometimes, with a smile, or now and then called +Dot to peep over his shoulder at his hand, and advise him on some knotty +point. But his adversary being a rigid disciplinarian, and subject +to an occasional weakness in respect of pegging more than she was entitled +to, required such vigilance on his part, as left him neither eyes nor +ears to spare. Thus, his whole attention gradually became absorbed +upon the cards; and he thought of nothing else, until a hand upon his +shoulder restored him to a consciousness of Tackleton.<br> +<br> +‘I am sorry to disturb you - but a word, directly.’<br> +<br> +‘I’m going to deal,’ returned the Carrier. ‘It’s +a crisis.’<br> +<br> +‘It is,’ said Tackleton. ‘Come here, man!’<br> +<br> +There was that in his pale face which made the other rise immediately, +and ask him, in a hurry, what the matter was.<br> +<br> +‘Hush! John Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton. ‘I +am sorry for this. I am indeed. I have been afraid of it. +I have suspected it from the first.’<br> +<br> +‘What is it?’ asked the Carrier, with a frightened aspect.<br> +<br> +‘Hush! I’ll show you, if you’ll come with me.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier accompanied him, without another word. They went across +a yard, where the stars were shining, and by a little side-door, into +Tackleton’s own counting-house, where there was a glass window, +commanding the ware-room, which was closed for the night. There +was no light in the counting-house itself, but there were lamps in the +long narrow ware-room; and consequently the window was bright.<br> +<br> +‘A moment!’ said Tackleton. ‘Can you bear to +look through that window, do you think?’<br> +<br> +‘Why not?’ returned the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘A moment more,’ said Tackleton. ‘Don’t +commit any violence. It’s of no use. It’s dangerous +too. You’re a strong-made man; and you might do murder before +you know it.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier looked him in the face, and recoiled a step as if he had +been struck. In one stride he was at the window, and he saw -<br> +<br> +Oh Shadow on the Hearth! Oh truthful Cricket! Oh perfidious +Wife!<br> +<br> +He saw her, with the old man - old no longer, but erect and gallant +- bearing in his hand the false white hair that had won his way into +their desolate and miserable home. He saw her listening to him, +as he bent his head to whisper in her ear; and suffering him to clasp +her round the waist, as they moved slowly down the dim wooden gallery +towards the door by which they had entered it. He saw them stop, +and saw her turn - to have the face, the face he loved so, so presented +to his view! - and saw her, with her own hands, adjust the lie upon +his head, laughing, as she did it, at his unsuspicious nature!<br> +<br> +He clenched his strong right hand at first, as if it would have beaten +down a lion. But opening it immediately again, he spread it out +before the eyes of Tackleton (for he was tender of her, even then), +and so, as they passed out, fell down upon a desk, and was as weak as +any infant.<br> +<br> +He was wrapped up to the chin, and busy with his horse and parcels, +when she came into the room, prepared for going home.<br> +<br> +‘Now, John, dear! Good night, May! Good night, Bertha!’<br> +<br> +Could she kiss them? Could she be blithe and cheerful in her parting? +Could she venture to reveal her face to them without a blush? +Yes. Tackleton observed her closely, and she did all this.<br> +<br> +Tilly was hushing the Baby, and she crossed and re-crossed Tackleton, +a dozen times, repeating drowsily:<br> +<br> +‘Did the knowledge that it was to be its wifes, then, wring its +hearts almost to breaking; and did its fathers deceive it from its cradles +but to break its hearts at last!’<br> +<br> +‘Now, Tilly, give me the Baby! Good night, Mr. Tackleton. +Where’s John, for goodness’ sake?’<br> +<br> +‘He’s going to walk beside the horse’s head,’ +said Tackleton; who helped her to her seat.<br> +<br> +‘My dear John. Walk? To-night?’<br> +<br> +The muffled figure of her husband made a hasty sign in the affirmative; +and the false stranger and the little nurse being in their places, the +old horse moved off. Boxer, the unconscious Boxer, running on +before, running back, running round and round the cart, and barking +as triumphantly and merrily as ever.<br> +<br> +When Tackleton had gone off likewise, escorting May and her mother home, +poor Caleb sat down by the fire beside his daughter; anxious and remorseful +at the core; and still saying in his wistful contemplation of her, ‘Have +I deceived her from her cradle, but to break her heart at last!’<br> +<br> +The toys that had been set in motion for the Baby, had all stopped, +and run down, long ago. In the faint light and silence, the imperturbably +calm dolls, the agitated rocking-horses with distended eyes and nostrils, +the old gentlemen at the street-doors, standing half doubled up upon +their failing knees and ankles, the wry-faced nut-crackers, the very +Beasts upon their way into the Ark, in twos, like a Boarding School +out walking, might have been imagined to be stricken motionless with +fantastic wonder, at Dot being false, or Tackleton beloved, under any +combination of circumstances.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER III - Chirp the Third<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Dutch clock in the corner struck Ten, when the Carrier sat down +by his fireside. So troubled and grief-worn, that he seemed to +scare the Cuckoo, who, having cut his ten melodious announcements as +short as possible, plunged back into the Moorish Palace again, and clapped +his little door behind him, as if the unwonted spectacle were too much +for his feelings.<br> +<br> +If the little Haymaker had been armed with the sharpest of scythes, +and had cut at every stroke into the Carrier’s heart, he never +could have gashed and wounded it, as Dot had done.<br> +<br> +It was a heart so full of love for her; so bound up and held together +by innumerable threads of winning remembrance, spun from the daily working +of her many qualities of endearment; it was a heart in which she had +enshrined herself so gently and so closely; a heart so single and so +earnest in its Truth, so strong in right, so weak in wrong; that it +could cherish neither passion nor revenge at first, and had only room +to hold the broken image of its Idol.<br> +<br> +But, slowly, slowly, as the Carrier sat brooding on his hearth, now +cold and dark, other and fiercer thoughts began to rise within him, +as an angry wind comes rising in the night. The Stranger was beneath +his outraged roof. Three steps would take him to his chamber-door. +One blow would beat it in. ‘You might do murder before you +know it,’ Tackleton had said. How could it be murder, if +he gave the villain time to grapple with him hand to hand! He +was the younger man.<br> +<br> +It was an ill-timed thought, bad for the dark mood of his mind. +It was an angry thought, goading him to some avenging act, that should +change the cheerful house into a haunted place which lonely travellers +would dread to pass by night; and where the timid would see shadows +struggling in the ruined windows when the moon was dim, and hear wild +noises in the stormy weather.<br> +<br> +He was the younger man! Yes, yes; some lover who had won the heart +that <i>he</i> had never touched. Some lover of her early choice, +of whom she had thought and dreamed, for whom she had pined and pined, +when he had fancied her so happy by his side. O agony to think +of it!<br> +<br> +She had been above-stairs with the Baby, getting it to bed. As +he sat brooding on the hearth, she came close beside him, without his +knowledge - in the turning of the rack of his great misery, he lost +all other sounds - and put her little stool at his feet. He only +knew it, when he felt her hand upon his own, and saw her looking up +into his face.<br> +<br> +With wonder? No. It was his first impression, and he was +fain to look at her again, to set it right. No, not with wonder. +With an eager and inquiring look; but not with wonder. At first +it was alarmed and serious; then, it changed into a strange, wild, dreadful +smile of recognition of his thoughts; then, there was nothing but her +clasped hands on her brow, and her bent head, and falling hair.<br> +<br> +Though the power of Omnipotence had been his to wield at that moment, +he had too much of its diviner property of Mercy in his breast, to have +turned one feather’s weight of it against her. But he could +not bear to see her crouching down upon the little seat where he had +often looked on her, with love and pride, so innocent and gay; and, +when she rose and left him, sobbing as she went, he felt it a relief +to have the vacant place beside him rather than her so long-cherished +presence. This in itself was anguish keener than all, reminding +him how desolate he was become, and how the great bond of his life was +rent asunder.<br> +<br> +The more he felt this, and the more he knew he could have better borne +to see her lying prematurely dead before him with their little child +upon her breast, the higher and the stronger rose his wrath against +his enemy. He looked about him for a weapon.<br> +<br> +There was a gun, hanging on the wall. He took it down, and moved +a pace or two towards the door of the perfidious Stranger’s room. +He knew the gun was loaded. Some shadowy idea that it was just +to shoot this man like a wild beast, seized him, and dilated in his +mind until it grew into a monstrous demon in complete possession of +him, casting out all milder thoughts and setting up its undivided empire.<br> +<br> +That phrase is wrong. Not casting out his milder thoughts, but +artfully transforming them. Changing them into scourges to drive +him on. Turning water into blood, love into hate, gentleness into +blind ferocity. Her image, sorrowing, humbled, but still pleading +to his tenderness and mercy with resistless power, never left his mind; +but, staying there, it urged him to the door; raised the weapon to his +shoulder; fitted and nerved his finger to the trigger; and cried ‘Kill +him! In his bed!’<br> +<br> +He reversed the gun to beat the stock up the door; he already held it +lifted in the air; some indistinct design was in his thoughts of calling +out to him to fly, for God’s sake, by the window -<br> +<br> +When, suddenly, the struggling fire illumined the whole chimney with +a glow of light; and the Cricket on the Hearth began to Chirp!<br> +<br> +No sound he could have heard, no human voice, not even hers, could so +have moved and softened him. The artless words in which she had +told him of her love for this same Cricket, were once more freshly spoken; +her trembling, earnest manner at the moment, was again before him; her +pleasant voice - O what a voice it was, for making household music at +the fireside of an honest man! - thrilled through and through his better +nature, and awoke it into life and action.<br> +<br> +He recoiled from the door, like a man walking in his sleep, awakened +from a frightful dream; and put the gun aside. Clasping his hands +before his face, he then sat down again beside the fire, and found relief +in tears.<br> +<br> +The Cricket on the Hearth came out into the room, and stood in Fairy +shape before him.<br> +<br> +‘“I love it,”’ said the Fairy Voice, repeating +what he well remembered, ‘“for the many times I have heard +it, and the many thoughts its harmless music has given me.”’<br> +<br> +‘She said so!’ cried the Carrier. ‘True!’<br> +<br> +‘“This has been a happy home, John; and I love the Cricket +for its sake!”’<br> +<br> +‘It has been, Heaven knows,’ returned the Carrier. +‘She made it happy, always, - until now.’<br> +<br> +‘So gracefully sweet-tempered; so domestic, joyful, busy, and +light-hearted!’ said the Voice.<br> +<br> +‘Otherwise I never could have loved her as I did,’ returned +the Carrier.<br> +<br> +The Voice, correcting him, said ‘do.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier repeated ‘as I did.’ But not firmly. +His faltering tongue resisted his control, and would speak in its own +way, for itself and him.<br> +<br> +The Figure, in an attitude of invocation, raised its hand and said:<br> +<br> +‘Upon your own hearth - ’<br> +<br> +‘The hearth she has blighted,’ interposed the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘The hearth she has - how often! - blessed and brightened,’ +said the Cricket; ‘the hearth which, but for her, were only a +few stones and bricks and rusty bars, but which has been, through her, +the Altar of your Home; on which you have nightly sacrificed some petty +passion, selfishness, or care, and offered up the homage of a tranquil +mind, a trusting nature, and an overflowing heart; so that the smoke +from this poor chimney has gone upward with a better fragrance than +the richest incense that is burnt before the richest shrines in all +the gaudy temples of this world! - Upon your own hearth; in its quiet +sanctuary; surrounded by its gentle influences and associations; hear +her! Hear me! Hear everything that speaks the language of +your hearth and home!’<br> +<br> +‘And pleads for her?’ inquired the Carrier.<br> +<br> +‘All things that speak the language of your hearth and home, must +plead for her!’ returned the Cricket. ‘For they speak +the truth.’<br> +<br> +And while the Carrier, with his head upon his hands, continued to sit +meditating in his chair, the Presence stood beside him, suggesting his +reflections by its power, and presenting them before him, as in a glass +or picture. It was not a solitary Presence. From the hearthstone, +from the chimney, from the clock, the pipe, the kettle, and the cradle; +from the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and the stairs; from the cart +without, and the cupboard within, and the household implements; from +every thing and every place with which she had ever been familiar, and +with which she had ever entwined one recollection of herself in her +unhappy husband’s mind; Fairies came trooping forth. Not +to stand beside him as the Cricket did, but to busy and bestir themselves. +To do all honour to her image. To pull him by the skirts, and +point to it when it appeared. To cluster round it, and embrace +it, and strew flowers for it to tread on. To try to crown its +fair head with their tiny hands. To show that they were fond of +it and loved it; and that there was not one ugly, wicked or accusatory +creature to claim knowledge of it - none but their playful and approving +selves.<br> +<br> +His thoughts were constant to her image. It was always there.<br> +<br> +She sat plying her needle, before the fire, and singing to herself. +Such a blithe, thriving, steady little Dot! The fairy figures +turned upon him all at once, by one consent, with one prodigious concentrated +stare, and seemed to say, ‘Is this the light wife you are mourning +for!’<br> +<br> +There were sounds of gaiety outside, musical instruments, and noisy +tongues, and laughter. A crowd of young merry-makers came pouring +in, among whom were May Fielding and a score of pretty girls. +Dot was the fairest of them all; as young as any of them too. +They came to summon her to join their party. It was a dance. +If ever little foot were made for dancing, hers was, surely. But +she laughed, and shook her head, and pointed to her cookery on the fire, +and her table ready spread: with an exulting defiance that rendered +her more charming than she was before. And so she merrily dismissed +them, nodding to her would-be partners, one by one, as they passed, +but with a comical indifference, enough to make them go and drown themselves +immediately if they were her admirers - and they must have been so, +more or less; they couldn’t help it. And yet indifference +was not her character. O no! For presently, there came a +certain Carrier to the door; and bless her what a welcome she bestowed +upon him!<br> +<br> +Again the staring figures turned upon him all at once, and seemed to +say, ‘Is this the wife who has forsaken you!’<br> +<br> +A shadow fell upon the mirror or the picture: call it what you will. +A great shadow of the Stranger, as he first stood underneath their roof; +covering its surface, and blotting out all other objects. But +the nimble Fairies worked like bees to clear it off again. And +Dot again was there. Still bright and beautiful.<br> +<br> +Rocking her little Baby in its cradle, singing to it softly, and resting +her head upon a shoulder which had its counterpart in the musing figure +by which the Fairy Cricket stood.<br> +<br> +The night - I mean the real night: not going by Fairy clocks - was wearing +now; and in this stage of the Carrier’s thoughts, the moon burst +out, and shone brightly in the sky. Perhaps some calm and quiet +light had risen also, in his mind; and he could think more soberly of +what had happened.<br> +<br> +Although the shadow of the Stranger fell at intervals upon the glass +- always distinct, and big, and thoroughly defined - it never fell so +darkly as at first. Whenever it appeared, the Fairies uttered +a general cry of consternation, and plied their little arms and legs, +with inconceivable activity, to rub it out. And whenever they +got at Dot again, and showed her to him once more, bright and beautiful, +they cheered in the most inspiring manner.<br> +<br> +They never showed her, otherwise than beautiful and bright, for they +were Household Spirits to whom falsehood is annihilation; and being +so, what Dot was there for them, but the one active, beaming, pleasant +little creature who had been the light and sun of the Carrier’s +Home!<br> +<br> +The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they showed her, with the +Baby, gossiping among a knot of sage old matrons, and affecting to be +wondrous old and matronly herself, and leaning in a staid, demure old +way upon her husband’s arm, attempting - she! such a bud of a +little woman - to convey the idea of having abjured the vanities of +the world in general, and of being the sort of person to whom it was +no novelty at all to be a mother; yet in the same breath, they showed +her, laughing at the Carrier for being awkward, and pulling up his shirt-collar +to make him smart, and mincing merrily about that very room to teach +him how to dance!<br> +<br> +They turned, and stared immensely at him when they showed her with the +Blind Girl; for, though she carried cheerfulness and animation with +her wheresoever she went, she bore those influences into Caleb Plummer’s +home, heaped up and running over. The Blind Girl’s love +for her, and trust in her, and gratitude to her; her own good busy way +of setting Bertha’s thanks aside; her dexterous little arts for +filling up each moment of the visit in doing something useful to the +house, and really working hard while feigning to make holiday; her bountiful +provision of those standing delicacies, the Veal and Ham-Pie and the +bottles of Beer; her radiant little face arriving at the door, and taking +leave; the wonderful expression in her whole self, from her neat foot +to the crown of her head, of being a part of the establishment - a something +necessary to it, which it couldn’t be without; all this the Fairies +revelled in, and loved her for. And once again they looked upon +him all at once, appealingly, and seemed to say, while some among them +nestled in her dress and fondled her, ‘Is this the wife who has +betrayed your confidence!’<br> +<br> +More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long thoughtful night, they +showed her to him sitting on her favourite seat, with her bent head, +her hands clasped on her brow, her falling hair. As he had seen +her last. And when they found her thus, they neither turned nor +looked upon him, but gathered close round her, and comforted and kissed +her, and pressed on one another to show sympathy and kindness to her, +and forgot him altogether.<br> +<br> +Thus the night passed. The moon went down; the stars grew pale; +the cold day broke; the sun rose. The Carrier still sat, musing, +in the chimney corner. He had sat there, with his head upon his +hands, all night. All night the faithful Cricket had been Chirp, +Chirp, Chirping on the Hearth. All night he had listened to its +voice. All night the household Fairies had been busy with him. +All night she had been amiable and blameless in the glass, except when +that one shadow fell upon it.<br> +<br> +He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and dressed himself. +He couldn’t go about his customary cheerful avocations - he wanted +spirit for them - but it mattered the less, that it was Tackleton’s +wedding-day, and he had arranged to make his rounds by proxy. +He thought to have gone merrily to church with Dot. But such plans +were at an end. It was their own wedding-day too. Ah! how +little he had looked for such a close to such a year!<br> +<br> +The Carrier had expected that Tackleton would pay him an early visit; +and he was right. He had not walked to and fro before his own +door, many minutes, when he saw the Toy-merchant coming in his chaise +along the road. As the chaise drew nearer, he perceived that Tackleton +was dressed out sprucely for his marriage, and that he had decorated +his horse’s head with flowers and favours.<br> +<br> +The horse looked much more like a bridegroom than Tackleton, whose half-closed +eye was more disagreeably expressive than ever. But the Carrier +took little heed of this. His thoughts had other occupation.<br> +<br> +‘John Peerybingle!’ said Tackleton, with an air of condolence. +‘My good fellow, how do you find yourself this morning?’<br> +<br> +‘I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton,’ returned +the Carrier, shaking his head: ‘for I have been a good deal disturbed +in my mind. But it’s over now! Can you spare me half +an hour or so, for some private talk?’<br> +<br> +‘I came on purpose,’ returned Tackleton, alighting. +‘Never mind the horse. He’ll stand quiet enough, with +the reins over this post, if you’ll give him a mouthful of hay.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier having brought it from his stable, and set it before him, +they turned into the house.<br> +<br> +‘You are not married before noon,’ he said, ‘I think?’<br> +<br> +‘No,’ answered Tackleton. ‘Plenty of time. +Plenty of time.’<br> +<br> +When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was rapping at the Stranger’s +door; which was only removed from it by a few steps. One of her +very red eyes (for Tilly had been crying all night long, because her +mistress cried) was at the keyhole; and she was knocking very loud; +and seemed frightened.<br> +<br> +‘If you please I can’t make nobody hear,’ said Tilly, +looking round. ‘I hope nobody an’t gone and been and +died if you please!’<br> +<br> +This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy emphasised with various new raps +and kicks at the door; which led to no result whatever.<br> +<br> +‘Shall I go?’ said Tackleton. ‘It’s curious.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier, who had turned his face from the door, signed to him to +go if he would.<br> +<br> +So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy’s relief; and he too kicked +and knocked; and he too failed to get the least reply. But he +thought of trying the handle of the door; and as it opened easily, he +peeped in, looked in, went in, and soon came running out again.<br> +<br> +‘John Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton, in his ear. ‘I +hope there has been nothing - nothing rash in the night?’<br> +<br> +The Carrier turned upon him quickly.<br> +<br> +‘Because he’s gone!’ said Tackleton; ‘and the +window’s open. I don’t see any marks - to be sure +it’s almost on a level with the garden: but I was afraid there +might have been some - some scuffle. Eh?’<br> +<br> +He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at him so +hard. And he gave his eye, and his face, and his whole person, +a sharp twist. As if he would have screwed the truth out of him.<br> +<br> +‘Make yourself easy,’ said the Carrier. ‘He +went into that room last night, without harm in word or deed from me, +and no one has entered it since. He is away of his own free will. +I’d go out gladly at that door, and beg my bread from house to +house, for life, if I could so change the past that he had never come. +But he has come and gone. And I have done with him!’<br> +<br> +‘Oh! - Well, I think he has got off pretty easy,’ said Tackleton, +taking a chair.<br> +<br> +The sneer was lost upon the Carrier, who sat down too, and shaded his +face with his hand, for some little time, before proceeding.<br> +<br> +‘You showed me last night,’ he said at length, ‘my +wife; my wife that I love; secretly - ’<br> +<br> +‘And tenderly,’ insinuated Tackleton.<br> +<br> +‘Conniving at that man’s disguise, and giving him opportunities +of meeting her alone. I think there’s no sight I wouldn’t +have rather seen than that. I think there’s no man in the +world I wouldn’t have rather had to show it me.’<br> +<br> +‘I confess to having had my suspicions always,’ said Tackleton. +‘And that has made me objectionable here, I know.’<br> +<br> +‘But as you did show it me,’ pursued the Carrier, not minding +him; ‘and as you saw her, my wife, my wife that I love’ +- his voice, and eye, and hand, grew steadier and firmer as he repeated +these words: evidently in pursuance of a steadfast purpose - ‘as +you saw her at this disadvantage, it is right and just that you should +also see with my eyes, and look into my breast, and know what my mind +is, upon the subject. For it’s settled,’ said the +Carrier, regarding him attentively. ‘And nothing can shake +it now.’<br> +<br> +Tackleton muttered a few general words of assent, about its being necessary +to vindicate something or other; but he was overawed by the manner of +his companion. Plain and unpolished as it was, it had a something +dignified and noble in it, which nothing but the soul of generous honour +dwelling in the man could have imparted.<br> +<br> +‘I am a plain, rough man,’ pursued the Carrier, ‘with +very little to recommend me. I am not a clever man, as you very +well know. I am not a young man. I loved my little Dot, +because I had seen her grow up, from a child, in her father’s +house; because I knew how precious she was; because she had been my +life, for years and years. There’s many men I can’t +compare with, who never could have loved my little Dot like me, I think!’<br> +<br> +He paused, and softly beat the ground a short time with his foot, before +resuming.<br> +<br> +‘I often thought that though I wasn’t good enough for her, +I should make her a kind husband, and perhaps know her value better +than another; and in this way I reconciled it to myself, and came to +think it might be possible that we should be married. And in the +end it came about, and we were married.’<br> +<br> +‘Hah!’ said Tackleton, with a significant shake of the head.<br> +<br> +‘I had studied myself; I had had experience of myself; I knew +how much I loved her, and how happy I should be,’ pursued the +Carrier. ‘But I had not - I feel it now - sufficiently considered +her.’<br> +<br> +‘To be sure,’ said Tackleton. ‘Giddiness, frivolity, +fickleness, love of admiration! Not considered! All left +out of sight! Hah!’<br> +<br> +‘You had best not interrupt me,’ said the Carrier, with +some sternness, ‘till you understand me; and you’re wide +of doing so. If, yesterday, I’d have struck that man down +at a blow, who dared to breathe a word against her, to-day I’d +set my foot upon his face, if he was my brother!’<br> +<br> +The Toy-merchant gazed at him in astonishment. He went on in a +softer tone:<br> +<br> +‘Did I consider,’ said the Carrier, ‘that I took her +- at her age, and with her beauty - from her young companions, and the +many scenes of which she was the ornament; in which she was the brightest +little star that ever shone, to shut her up from day to day in my dull +house, and keep my tedious company? Did I consider how little +suited I was to her sprightly humour, and how wearisome a plodding man +like me must be, to one of her quick spirit? Did I consider that +it was no merit in me, or claim in me, that I loved her, when everybody +must, who knew her? Never. I took advantage of her hopeful +nature and her cheerful disposition; and I married her. I wish +I never had! For her sake; not for mine!’<br> +<br> +The Toy-merchant gazed at him, without winking. Even the half-shut +eye was open now.<br> +<br> +‘Heaven bless her!’ said the Carrier, ‘for the cheerful +constancy with which she tried to keep the knowledge of this from me! +And Heaven help me, that, in my slow mind, I have not found it out before! +Poor child! Poor Dot! <i>I</i> not to find it out, who have +seen her eyes fill with tears, when such a marriage as our own was spoken +of! I, who have seen the secret trembling on her lips a hundred +times, and never suspected it till last night! Poor girl! +That I could ever hope she would be fond of me! That I could ever +believe she was!’<br> +<br> +‘She made a show of it,’ said Tackleton. ‘She +made such a show of it, that to tell you the truth it was the origin +of my misgivings.’<br> +<br> +And here he asserted the superiority of May Fielding, who certainly +made no sort of show of being fond of <i>him.<br> +<br> +</i>‘She has tried,’ said the poor Carrier, with greater +emotion than he had exhibited yet; ‘I only now begin to know how +hard she has tried, to be my dutiful and zealous wife. How good +she has been; how much she has done; how brave and strong a heart she +has; let the happiness I have known under this roof bear witness! +It will be some help and comfort to me, when I am here alone.’<br> +<br> +‘Here alone?’ said Tackleton. ‘Oh! Then +you do mean to take some notice of this?’<br> +<br> +‘I mean,’ returned the Carrier, ‘to do her the greatest +kindness, and make her the best reparation, in my power. I can +release her from the daily pain of an unequal marriage, and the struggle +to conceal it. She shall be as free as I can render her.’<br> +<br> +‘Make <i>her</i> reparation!’ exclaimed Tackleton, twisting +and turning his great ears with his hands. ‘There must be +something wrong here. You didn’t say that, of course.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier set his grip upon the collar of the Toy-merchant, and shook +him like a reed.<br> +<br> +‘Listen to me!’ he said. ‘And take care that +you hear me right. Listen to me. Do I speak plainly?’<br> +<br> +‘Very plainly indeed,’ answered Tackleton.<br> +<br> +‘As if I meant it?’<br> +<br> +‘Very much as if you meant it.’<br> +<br> +‘I sat upon that hearth, last night, all night,’ exclaimed +the Carrier. ‘On the spot where she has often sat beside +me, with her sweet face looking into mine. I called up her whole +life, day by day. I had her dear self, in its every passage, in +review before me. And upon my soul she is innocent, if there is +One to judge the innocent and guilty!’<br> +<br> +Staunch Cricket on the Hearth! Loyal household Fairies!<br> +<br> +‘Passion and distrust have left me!’ said the Carrier; ‘and +nothing but my grief remains. In an unhappy moment some old lover, +better suited to her tastes and years than I; forsaken, perhaps, for +me, against her will; returned. In an unhappy moment, taken by +surprise, and wanting time to think of what she did, she made herself +a party to his treachery, by concealing it. Last night she saw +him, in the interview we witnessed. It was wrong. But otherwise +than this she is innocent if there is truth on earth!’<br> +<br> +‘If that is your opinion’ - Tackleton began.<br> +<br> +‘So, let her go!’ pursued the Carrier. ‘Go, +with my blessing for the many happy hours she has given me, and my forgiveness +for any pang she has caused me. Let her go, and have the peace +of mind I wish her! She’ll never hate me. She’ll +learn to like me better, when I’m not a drag upon her, and she +wears the chain I have riveted, more lightly. This is the day +on which I took her, with so little thought for her enjoyment, from +her home. To-day she shall return to it, and I will trouble her +no more. Her father and mother will be here to-day - we had made +a little plan for keeping it together - and they shall take her home. +I can trust her, there, or anywhere. She leaves me without blame, +and she will live so I am sure. If I should die - I may perhaps +while she is still young; I have lost some courage in a few hours - +she’ll find that I remembered her, and loved her to the last! +This is the end of what you showed me. Now, it’s over!’<br> +<br> +‘O no, John, not over. Do not say it’s over yet! +Not quite yet. I have heard your noble words. I could not +steal away, pretending to be ignorant of what has affected me with such +deep gratitude. Do not say it’s over, ‘till the clock +has struck again!’<br> +<br> +She had entered shortly after Tackleton, and had remained there. +She never looked at Tackleton, but fixed her eyes upon her husband. +But she kept away from him, setting as wide a space as possible between +them; and though she spoke with most impassioned earnestness, she went +no nearer to him even then. How different in this from her old +self!<br> +<br> +‘No hand can make the clock which will strike again for me the +hours that are gone,’ replied the Carrier, with a faint smile. +‘But let it be so, if you will, my dear. It will strike +soon. It’s of little matter what we say. I’d +try to please you in a harder case than that.’<br> +<br> +‘Well!’ muttered Tackleton. ‘I must be off, +for when the clock strikes again, it’ll be necessary for me to +be upon my way to church. Good morning, John Peerybingle. +I’m sorry to be deprived of the pleasure of your company. +Sorry for the loss, and the occasion of it too!’<br> +<br> +‘I have spoken plainly?’ said the Carrier, accompanying +him to the door.<br> +<br> +‘Oh quite!’<br> +<br> +‘And you’ll remember what I have said?’<br> +<br> +‘Why, if you compel me to make the observation,’ said Tackleton, +previously taking the precaution of getting into his chaise; ‘I +must say that it was so very unexpected, that I’m far from being +likely to forget it.’<br> +<br> +‘The better for us both,’ returned the Carrier. ‘Good +bye. I give you joy!’<br> +<br> +‘I wish I could give it to <i>you</i>,’ said Tackleton. +‘As I can’t; thank’ee. Between ourselves, (as +I told you before, eh?) I don’t much think I shall have the less +joy in my married life, because May hasn’t been too officious +about me, and too demonstrative. Good bye! Take care of +yourself.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier stood looking after him until he was smaller in the distance +than his horse’s flowers and favours near at hand; and then, with +a deep sigh, went strolling like a restless, broken man, among some +neighbouring elms; unwilling to return until the clock was on the eve +of striking.<br> +<br> +His little wife, being left alone, sobbed piteously; but often dried +her eyes and checked herself, to say how good he was, how excellent +he was! and once or twice she laughed; so heartily, triumphantly, and +incoherently (still crying all the time), that Tilly was quite horrified.<br> +<br> +‘Ow if you please don’t!’ said Tilly. ‘It’s +enough to dead and bury the Baby, so it is if you please.’<br> +<br> +‘Will you bring him sometimes, to see his father, Tilly,’ +inquired her mistress, drying her eyes; ‘when I can’t live +here, and have gone to my old home?’<br> +<br> +‘Ow if you please don’t!’ cried Tilly, throwing back +her head, and bursting out into a howl - she looked at the moment uncommonly +like Boxer. ‘Ow if you please don’t! Ow, what +has everybody gone and been and done with everybody, making everybody +else so wretched! Ow-w-w-w!’<br> +<br> +The soft-hearted Slowboy trailed off at this juncture, into such a deplorable +howl, the more tremendous from its long suppression, that she must infallibly +have awakened the Baby, and frightened him into something serious (probably +convulsions), if her eyes had not encountered Caleb Plummer, leading +in his daughter. This spectacle restoring her to a sense of the +proprieties, she stood for some few moments silent, with her mouth wide +open; and then, posting off to the bed on which the Baby lay asleep, +danced in a weird, Saint Vitus manner on the floor, and at the same +time rummaged with her face and head among the bedclothes, apparently +deriving much relief from those extraordinary operations.<br> +<br> +‘Mary!’ said Bertha. ‘Not at the marriage!’<br> +<br> +‘I told her you would not be there, mum,’ whispered Caleb. +‘I heard as much last night. But bless you,’ said +the little man, taking her tenderly by both hands, ‘I don’t +care for what they say. I don’t believe them. There +an’t much of me, but that little should be torn to pieces sooner +than I’d trust a word against you!’<br> +<br> +He put his arms about her and hugged her, as a child might have hugged +one of his own dolls.<br> +<br> +‘Bertha couldn’t stay at home this morning,’ said +Caleb. ‘She was afraid, I know, to hear the bells ring, +and couldn’t trust herself to be so near them on their wedding-day. +So we started in good time, and came here. I have been thinking +of what I have done,’ said Caleb, after a moment’s pause; +‘I have been blaming myself till I hardly knew what to do or where +to turn, for the distress of mind I have caused her; and I’ve +come to the conclusion that I’d better, if you’ll stay with +me, mum, the while, tell her the truth. You’ll stay with +me the while?’ he inquired, trembling from head to foot. +‘I don’t know what effect it may have upon her; I don’t +know what she’ll think of me; I don’t know that she’ll +ever care for her poor father afterwards. But it’s best +for her that she should be undeceived, and I must bear the consequences +as I deserve!’<br> +<br> +‘ Mary,’ said Bertha, ‘where is your hand! Ah! +Here it is here it is!’ pressing it to her lips, with a smile, +and drawing it through her arm. ‘I heard them speaking softly +among themselves, last night, of some blame against you. They +were wrong.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier’s Wife was silent. Caleb answered for her.<br> +<br> +‘They were wrong,’ he said.<br> +<br> +‘I knew it!’ cried Bertha, proudly. ‘I told +them so. I scorned to hear a word! Blame <i>her</i> with +justice!’ she pressed the hand between her own, and the soft cheek +against her face. ‘No! I am not so blind as that.’<br> +<br> +Her father went on one side of her, while Dot remained upon the other: +holding her hand.<br> +<br> +‘I know you all,’ said Bertha, ‘better than you think. +But none so well as her. Not even you, father. There is +nothing half so real and so true about me, as she is. If I could +be restored to sight this instant, and not a word were spoken, I could +choose her from a crowd! My sister!’<br> +<br> +‘Bertha, my dear!’ said Caleb, ‘I have something on +my mind I want to tell you, while we three are alone. Hear me +kindly! I have a confession to make to you, my darling.’<br> +<br> +‘A confession, father?’<br> +<br> +‘I have wandered from the truth and lost myself, my child,’ +said Caleb, with a pitiable expression in his bewildered face. +‘I have wandered from the truth, intending to be kind to you; +and have been cruel.’<br> +<br> +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him, and repeated ‘Cruel!’<br> +<br> +‘He accuses himself too strongly, Bertha,’ said Dot. +‘You’ll say so, presently. You’ll be the first +to tell him so.’<br> +<br> +‘He cruel to me!’ cried Bertha, with a smile of incredulity.<br> +<br> +‘Not meaning it, my child,’ said Caleb. ‘But +I have been; though I never suspected it, till yesterday. My dear +blind daughter, hear me and forgive me! The world you live in, +heart of mine, doesn’t exist as I have represented it. The +eyes you have trusted in, have been false to you.’<br> +<br> +She turned her wonder-stricken face towards him still; but drew back, +and clung closer to her friend.<br> +<br> +‘Your road in life was rough, my poor one,’ said Caleb, +‘and I meant to smooth it for you. I have altered objects, +changed the characters of people, invented many things that never have +been, to make you happier. I have had concealments from you, put +deceptions on you, God forgive me! and surrounded you with fancies.’<br> +<br> +‘But living people are not fancies!’ she said hurriedly, +and turning very pale, and still retiring from him. ‘You +can’t change them.’<br> +<br> +‘I have done so, Bertha,’ pleaded Caleb. ‘There +is one person that you know, my dove - ’<br> +<br> +‘Oh father! why do you say, I know?’ she answered, in a +term of keen reproach. ‘What and whom do <i>I</i> know! +I who have no leader! I so miserably blind.’<br> +<br> +In the anguish of her heart, she stretched out her hands, as if she +were groping her way; then spread them, in a manner most forlorn and +sad, upon her face.<br> +<br> +‘The marriage that takes place to-day,’ said Caleb, ‘is +with a stern, sordid, grinding man. A hard master to you and me, +my dear, for many years. Ugly in his looks, and in his nature. +Cold and callous always. Unlike what I have painted him to you +in everything, my child. In everything.’<br> +<br> +‘Oh why,’ cried the Blind Girl, tortured, as it seemed, +almost beyond endurance, ‘why did you ever do this! Why +did you ever fill my heart so full, and then come in like Death, and +tear away the objects of my love! O Heaven, how blind I am! +How helpless and alone!’<br> +<br> +Her afflicted father hung his head, and offered no reply but in his +penitence and sorrow.<br> +<br> +She had been but a short time in this passion of regret, when the Cricket +on the Hearth, unheard by all but her, began to chirp. Not merrily, +but in a low, faint, sorrowing way. It was so mournful that her +tears began to flow; and when the Presence which had been beside the +Carrier all night, appeared behind her, pointing to her father, they +fell down like rain.<br> +<br> +She heard the Cricket-voice more plainly soon, and was conscious, through +her blindness, of the Presence hovering about her father.<br> +<br> +‘Mary,’ said the Blind Girl, ‘tell me what my home +is. What it truly is.’<br> +<br> +‘It is a poor place, Bertha; very poor and bare indeed. +The house will scarcely keep out wind and rain another winter. +It is as roughly shielded from the weather, Bertha,’ Dot continued +in a low, clear voice, ‘as your poor father in his sack-cloth +coat.’<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl, greatly agitated, rose, and led the Carrier’s +little wife aside.<br> +<br> +‘Those presents that I took such care of; that came almost at +my wish, and were so dearly welcome to me,’ she said, trembling; +‘where did they come from? Did you send them?’<br> +<br> +‘No.’<br> +<br> +‘Who then?’<br> +<br> +Dot saw she knew, already, and was silent. The Blind Girl spread +her hands before her face again. But in quite another manner now.<br> +<br> +‘Dear Mary, a moment. One moment? More this way. +Speak softly to me. You are true, I know. You’d not +deceive me now; would you?’<br> +<br> +‘No, Bertha, indeed!’<br> +<br> +‘No, I am sure you would not. You have too much pity for +me. Mary, look across the room to where we were just now - to +where my father is - my father, so compassionate and loving to me - +and tell me what you see.’<br> +<br> +‘I see,’ said Dot, who understood her well, ‘an old +man sitting in a chair, and leaning sorrowfully on the back, with his +face resting on his hand. As if his child should comfort him, +Bertha.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, yes. She will. Go on.’<br> +<br> +‘He is an old man, worn with care and work. He is a spare, +dejected, thoughtful, grey-haired man. I see him now, despondent +and bowed down, and striving against nothing. But, Bertha, I have +seen him many times before, and striving hard in many ways for one great +sacred object. And I honour his grey head, and bless him!’<br> +<br> +The Blind Girl broke away from her; and throwing herself upon her knees +before him, took the grey head to her breast.<br> +<br> +‘It is my sight restored. It is my sight!’ she cried. +‘I have been blind, and now my eyes are open. I never knew +him! To think I might have died, and never truly seen the father +who has been so loving to me!’<br> +<br> +There were no words for Caleb’s emotion.<br> +<br> +‘There is not a gallant figure on this earth,’ exclaimed +the Blind Girl, holding him in her embrace, ‘that I would love +so dearly, and would cherish so devotedly, as this! The greyer, +and more worn, the dearer, father! Never let them say I am blind +again. There’s not a furrow in his face, there’s not +a hair upon his head, that shall be forgotten in my prayers and thanks +to Heaven!’<br> +<br> +Caleb managed to articulate ‘My Bertha!’<br> +<br> +‘And in my blindness, I believed him,’ said the girl, caressing +him with tears of exquisite affection, ‘to be so different! +And having him beside me, day by day, so mindful of me - always, never +dreamed of this!’<br> +<br> +‘The fresh smart father in the blue coat, Bertha,’ said +poor Caleb. ‘He’s gone!’<br> +<br> +‘Nothing is gone,’ she answered. ‘Dearest father, +no! Everything is here - in you. The father that I loved +so well; the father that I never loved enough, and never knew; the benefactor +whom I first began to reverence and love, because he had such sympathy +for me; All are here in you. Nothing is dead to me. The +soul of all that was most dear to me is here - here, with the worn face, +and the grey head. And I am NOT blind, father, any longer!’<br> +<br> +Dot’s whole attention had been concentrated, during this discourse, +upon the father and daughter; but looking, now, towards the little Haymaker +in the Moorish meadow, she saw that the clock was within a few minutes +of striking, and fell, immediately, into a nervous and excited state.<br> +<br> +‘Father,’ said Bertha, hesitating. ‘Mary.’<br> +<br> +‘Yes, my dear,’ returned Caleb. ‘Here she is.’<br> +<br> +‘There is no change in <i>her</i>. You never told me anything +of <i>her</i> that was not true?’<br> +<br> +‘I should have done it, my dear, I am afraid,’ returned +Caleb, ‘if I could have made her better than she was. But +I must have changed her for the worse, if I had changed her at all. +Nothing could improve her, Bertha.’<br> +<br> +Confident as the Blind Girl had been when she asked the question, her +delight and pride in the reply and her renewed embrace of Dot, were +charming to behold.<br> +<br> +‘More changes than you think for, may happen though, my dear,’ +said Dot. ‘Changes for the better, I mean; changes for great +joy to some of us. You mustn’t let them startle you too +much, if any such should ever happen, and affect you? Are those +wheels upon the road? You’ve a quick ear, Bertha. +Are they wheels?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes. Coming very fast.’<br> +<br> +‘I - I - I know you have a quick ear,’ said Dot, placing +her hand upon her heart, and evidently talking on, as fast as she could +to hide its palpitating state, ‘because I have noticed it often, +and because you were so quick to find out that strange step last night. +Though why you should have said, as I very well recollect you did say, +Bertha, “Whose step is that!” and why you should have taken +any greater observation of it than of any other step, I don’t +know. Though as I said just now, there are great changes in the +world: great changes: and we can’t do better than prepare ourselves +to be surprised at hardly anything.’<br> +<br> +Caleb wondered what this meant; perceiving that she spoke to him, no +less than to his daughter. He saw her, with astonishment, so fluttered +and distressed that she could scarcely breathe; and holding to a chair, +to save herself from falling.<br> +<br> +‘They are wheels indeed!’ she panted. ‘Coming +nearer! Nearer! Very close! And now you hear them +stopping at the garden-gate! And now you hear a step outside the +door - the same step, Bertha, is it not! - and now!’ -<br> +<br> +She uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight; and running up to +Caleb put her hands upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room, +and flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them.<br> +<br> +‘Is it over?’ cried Dot.<br> +<br> +‘Yes!’<br> +<br> +‘Happily over?’<br> +<br> +‘Yes!’<br> +<br> +‘Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear +the like of it before?’ cried Dot.<br> +<br> +‘If my boy in the Golden South Americas was alive’ - said +Caleb, trembling.<br> +<br> +‘He is alive!’ shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his +eyes, and clapping them in ecstasy; ‘look at him! See where +he stands before you, healthy and strong! Your own dear son! +Your own dear living, loving brother, Bertha<br> +<br> +All honour to the little creature for her transports! All honour +to her tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another’s +arms! All honour to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt +sailor-fellow, with his dark streaming hair, half-way, and never turned +her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it, freely, and +to press her to his bounding heart!<br> +<br> +And honour to the Cuckoo too - why not! - for bursting out of the trap-door +in the Moorish Palace like a house-breaker, and hiccoughing twelve times +on the assembled company, as if he had got drunk for joy!<br> +<br> +The Carrier, entering, started back. And well he might, to find +himself in such good company.<br> +<br> +‘Look, John!’ said Caleb, exultingly, ‘look here! +My own boy from the Golden South Americas! My own son! Him +that you fitted out, and sent away yourself! Him that you were +always such a friend to!’<br> +<br> +The Carrier advanced to seize him by the hand; but, recoiling, as some +feature in his face awakened a remembrance of the Deaf Man in the Cart, +said:<br> +<br> +‘Edward! Was it you?’<br> +<br> +‘Now tell him all!’ cried Dot. ‘Tell him all, +Edward; and don’t spare me, for nothing shall make me spare myself +in his eyes, ever again.’<br> +<br> +‘I was the man,’ said Edward.<br> +<br> +‘And could you steal, disguised, into the house of your old friend?’ +rejoined the Carrier. ‘There was a frank boy once - how +many years is it, Caleb, since we heard that he was dead, and had it +proved, we thought? - who never would have done that.’<br> +<br> +‘There was a generous friend of mine, once; more a father to me +than a friend;’ said Edward, ‘who never would have judged +me, or any other man, unheard. You were he. So I am certain +you will hear me now.’<br> +<br> +The Carrier, with a troubled glance at Dot, who still kept far away +from him, replied, ‘Well! that’s but fair. I will.’<br> +<br> +‘You must know that when I left here, a boy,’ said Edward, +‘I was in love, and my love was returned. She was a very +young girl, who perhaps (you may tell me) didn’t know her own +mind. But I knew mine, and I had a passion for her.’<br> +<br> +‘You had!’ exclaimed the Carrier. ‘You!’<br> +<br> +‘Indeed I had,’ returned the other. ‘And she +returned it. I have ever since believed she did, and now I am +sure she did.’<br> +<br> +‘Heaven help me!’ said the Carrier. ‘This is +worse than all.’<br> +<br> +‘Constant to her,’ said Edward, ‘and returning, full +of hope, after many hardships and perils, to redeem my part of our old +contract, I heard, twenty miles away, that she was false to me; that +she had forgotten me; and had bestowed herself upon another and a richer +man. I had no mind to reproach her; but I wished to see her, and +to prove beyond dispute that this was true. I hoped she might +have been forced into it, against her own desire and recollection. +It would be small comfort, but it would be some, I thought, and on I +came. That I might have the truth, the real truth; observing freely +for myself, and judging for myself, without obstruction on the one hand, +or presenting my own influence (if I had any) before her, on the other; +I dressed myself unlike myself - you know how; and waited on the road +- you know where. You had no suspicion of me; neither had - had +she,’ pointing to Dot, ‘until I whispered in her ear at +that fireside, and she so nearly betrayed me.’<br> +<br> +‘But when she knew that Edward was alive, and had come back,’ +sobbed Dot, now speaking for herself, as she had burned to do, all through +this narrative; ‘and when she knew his purpose, she advised him +by all means to keep his secret close; for his old friend John Peerybingle +was much too open in his nature, and too clumsy in all artifice - being +a clumsy man in general,’ said Dot, half laughing and half crying +- ‘to keep it for him. And when she - that’s me, John,’ +sobbed the little woman - ‘told him all, and how his sweetheart +had believed him to be dead; and how she had at last been over-persuaded +by her mother into a marriage which the silly, dear old thing called +advantageous; and when she - that’s me again, John - told him +they were not yet married (though close upon it), and that it would +be nothing but a sacrifice if it went on, for there was no love on her +side; and when he went nearly mad with joy to hear it; then she - that’s +me again - said she would go between them, as she had often done before +in old times, John, and would sound his sweetheart and be sure that +what she - me again, John - said and thought was right. And it +was right, John! And they were brought together, John! And +they were married, John, an hour ago! And here’s the Bride! +And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! And I’m a happy +little woman, May, God bless you!’<br> +<br> +She was an irresistible little woman, if that be anything to the purpose; +and never so completely irresistible as in her present transports. +There never were congratulations so endearing and delicious, as those +she lavished on herself and on the Bride.<br> +<br> +Amid the tumult of emotions in his breast, the honest Carrier had stood, +confounded. Flying, now, towards her, Dot stretched out her hand +to stop him, and retreated as before.<br> +<br> +‘No, John, no! Hear all! Don’t love me any more, +John, till you’ve heard every word I have to say. It was +wrong to have a secret from you, John. I’m very sorry. +I didn’t think it any harm, till I came and sat down by you on +the little stool last night. But when I knew by what was written +in your face, that you had seen me walking in the gallery with Edward, +and when I knew what you thought, I felt how giddy and how wrong it +was. But oh, dear John, how could you, could you, think so!’<br> +<br> +Little woman, how she sobbed again! John Peerybingle would have +caught her in his arms. But no; she wouldn’t let him.<br> +<br> +‘Don’t love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time +yet! When I was sad about this intended marriage, dear, it was +because I remembered May and Edward such young lovers; and knew that +her heart was far away from Tackleton. You believe that, now. +Don’t you, John?’<br> +<br> +John was going to make another rush at this appeal; but she stopped +him again.<br> +<br> +‘No; keep there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I +sometimes do, John, and call you clumsy and a dear old goose, and names +of that sort, it’s because I love you, John, so well, and take +such pleasure in your ways, and wouldn’t see you altered in the +least respect to have you made a King to-morrow.’<br> +<br> +‘Hooroar!’ said Caleb with unusual vigour. ‘My +opinion!’<br> +<br> +‘And when I speak of people being middle-aged, and steady, John, +and pretend that we are a humdrum couple, going on in a jog-trot sort +of way, it’s only because I’m such a silly little thing, +John, that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of Play with Baby, and all +that: and make believe.’<br> +<br> +She saw that he was coming; and stopped him again. But she was +very nearly too late.<br> +<br> +‘No, don’t love me for another minute or two, if you please, +John! What I want most to tell you, I have kept to the last. +My dear, good, generous John, when we were talking the other night about +the Cricket, I had it on my lips to say, that at first I did not love +you quite so dearly as I do now; that when I first came home here, I +was half afraid I mightn’t learn to love you every bit as well +as I hoped and prayed I might - being so very young, John! But, +dear John, every day and hour I loved you more and more. And if +I could have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you +say this morning, would have made me. But I can’t. +All the affection that I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, +as you well deserve, long, long ago, and I have no more left to give. +Now, my dear husband, take me to your heart again! That’s +my home, John; and never, never think of sending me to any other!’<br> +<br> +You never will derive so much delight from seeing a glorious little +woman in the arms of a third party, as you would have felt if you had +seen Dot run into the Carrier’s embrace. It was the most +complete, unmitigated, soul-fraught little piece of earnestness that +ever you beheld in all your days.<br> +<br> +You maybe sure the Carrier was in a state of perfect rapture; and you +may be sure Dot was likewise; and you may be sure they all were, inclusive +of Miss Slowboy, who wept copiously for joy, and wishing to include +her young charge in the general interchange of congratulations, handed +round the Baby to everybody in succession, as if it were something to +drink.<br> +<br> +But, now, the sound of wheels was heard again outside the door; and +somebody exclaimed that Gruff and Tackleton was coming back. Speedily +that worthy gentleman appeared, looking warm and flustered.<br> +<br> +‘Why, what the Devil’s this, John Peerybingle!’ said +Tackleton. ‘There’s some mistake. I appointed +Mrs. Tackleton to meet me at the church, and I’ll swear I passed +her on the road, on her way here. Oh! here she is! I beg +your pardon, sir; I haven’t the pleasure of knowing you; but if +you can do me the favour to spare this young lady, she has rather a +particular engagement this morning.’<br> +<br> +‘But I can’t spare her,’ returned Edward. ‘I +couldn’t think of it.’<br> +<br> +‘What do you mean, you vagabond?’ said Tackleton.<br> +<br> +‘I mean, that as I can make allowance for your being vexed,’ +returned the other, with a smile, ‘I am as deaf to harsh discourse +this morning, as I was to all discourse last night.’<br> +<br> +The look that Tackleton bestowed upon him, and the start he gave!<br> +<br> +‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Edward, holding out May’s +left hand, and especially the third finger; ‘that the young lady +can’t accompany you to church; but as she has been there once, +this morning, perhaps you’ll excuse her.’<br> +<br> +Tackleton looked hard at the third finger, and took a little piece of +silver-paper, apparently containing a ring, from his waistcoat-pocket.<br> +<br> +‘Miss Slowboy,’ said Tackleton. ‘Will you have +the kindness to throw that in the fire? Thank’ee.’<br> +<br> +‘It was a previous engagement, quite an old engagement, that prevented +my wife from keeping her appointment with you, I assure you,’ +said Edward.<br> +<br> +‘Mr. Tackleton will do me the justice to acknowledge that I revealed +it to him faithfully; and that I told him, many times, I never could +forget it,’ said May, blushing.<br> +<br> +‘Oh certainly!’ said Tackleton. ‘Oh to be sure. +Oh it’s all right. It’s quite correct. Mrs. +Edward Plummer, I infer?’<br> +<br> +‘That’s the name,’ returned the bridegroom.<br> +<br> +‘Ah, I shouldn’t have known you, sir,’ said Tackleton, +scrutinising his face narrowly, and making a low bow. ‘I +give you joy, sir!’<br> +<br> +‘Thank’ee.’<br> +<br> +‘Mrs. Peerybingle,’ said Tackleton, turning suddenly to +where she stood with her husband; ‘I am sorry. You haven’t +done me a very great kindness, but, upon my life I am sorry. You +are better than I thought you. John Peerybingle, I am sorry. +You understand me; that’s enough. It’s quite correct, +ladies and gentlemen all, and perfectly satisfactory. Good morning!’<br> +<br> +With these words he carried it off, and carried himself off too: merely +stopping at the door, to take the flowers and favours from his horse’s +head, and to kick that animal once, in the ribs, as a means of informing +him that there was a screw loose in his arrangements.<br> +<br> +Of course it became a serious duty now, to make such a day of it, as +should mark these events for a high Feast and Festival in the Peerybingle +Calendar for evermore. Accordingly, Dot went to work to produce +such an entertainment, as should reflect undying honour on the house +and on every one concerned; and in a very short space of time, she was +up to her dimpled elbows in flour, and whitening the Carrier’s +coat, every time he came near her, by stopping him to give him a kiss. +That good fellow washed the greens, and peeled the turnips, and broke +the plates, and upset iron pots full of cold water on the fire, and +made himself useful in all sorts of ways: while a couple of professional +assistants, hastily called in from somewhere in the neighbourhood, as +on a point of life or death, ran against each other in all the doorways +and round all the corners, and everybody tumbled over Tilly Slowboy +and the Baby, everywhere. Tilly never came out in such force before. +Her ubiquity was the theme of general admiration. She was a stumbling-block +in the passage at five-and-twenty minutes past two; a man-trap in the +kitchen at half-past two precisely; and a pitfall in the garret at five-and-twenty +minutes to three. The Baby’s head was, as it were, a test +and touchstone for every description of matter, - animal, vegetable, +and mineral. Nothing was in use that day that didn’t come, +at some time or other, into close acquaintance with it.<br> +<br> +Then, there was a great Expedition set on foot to go and find out Mrs. +Fielding; and to be dismally penitent to that excellent gentlewoman; +and to bring her back, by force, if needful, to be happy and forgiving. +And when the Expedition first discovered her, she would listen to no +terms at all, but said, an unspeakable number of times, that ever she +should have lived to see the day! and couldn’t be got to say anything +else, except, ‘Now carry me to the grave:’ which seemed +absurd, on account of her not being dead, or anything at all like it. +After a time, she lapsed into a state of dreadful calmness, and observed, +that when that unfortunate train of circumstances had occurred in the +Indigo Trade, she had foreseen that she would be exposed, during her +whole life, to every species of insult and contumely; and that she was +glad to find it was the case; and begged they wouldn’t trouble +themselves about her, - for what was she? oh, dear! a nobody! - but +would forget that such a being lived, and would take their course in +life without her. From this bitterly sarcastic mood, she passed +into an angry one, in which she gave vent to the remarkable expression +that the worm would turn if trodden on; and, after that, she yielded +to a soft regret, and said, if they had only given her their confidence, +what might she not have had it in her power to suggest! Taking +advantage of this crisis in her feelings, the Expedition embraced her; +and she very soon had her gloves on, and was on her way to John Peerybingle’s +in a state of unimpeachable gentility; with a paper parcel at her side +containing a cap of state, almost as tall, and quite as stiff, as a +mitre.<br> +<br> +Then, there were Dot’s father and mother to come, in another little +chaise; and they were behind their time; and fears were entertained; +and there was much looking out for them down the road; and Mrs. Fielding +always would look in the wrong and morally impossible direction; and +being apprised thereof, hoped she might take the liberty of looking +where she pleased. At last they came: a chubby little couple, +jogging along in a snug and comfortable little way that quite belonged +to the Dot family; and Dot and her mother, side by side, were wonderful +to see. They were so like each other.<br> +<br> +Then, Dot’s mother had to renew her acquaintance with May’s +mother; and May’s mother always stood on her gentility; and Dot’s +mother never stood on anything but her active little feet. And +old Dot - so to call Dot’s father, I forgot it wasn’t his +right name, but never mind - took liberties, and shook hands at first +sight, and seemed to think a cap but so much starch and muslin, and +didn’t defer himself at all to the Indigo Trade, but said there +was no help for it now; and, in Mrs. Fielding’s summing up, was +a good-natured kind of man - but coarse, my dear.<br> +<br> +I wouldn’t have missed Dot, doing the honours in her wedding-gown, +my benison on her bright face! for any money. No! nor the good +Carrier, so jovial and so ruddy, at the bottom of the table. Nor +the brown, fresh sailor-fellow, and his handsome wife. Nor any +one among them. To have missed the dinner would have been to miss +as jolly and as stout a meal as man need eat; and to have missed the +overflowing cups in which they drank The Wedding-Day, would have been +the greatest miss of all.<br> +<br> +After dinner, Caleb sang the song about the Sparkling Bowl. As +I’m a living man, hoping to keep so, for a year or two, he sang +it through.<br> +<br> +And, by-the-by, a most unlooked-for incident occurred, just as he finished +the last verse.<br> +<br> +There was a tap at the door; and a man came staggering in, without saying +with your leave, or by your leave, with something heavy on his head. +Setting this down in the middle of the table, symmetrically in the centre +of the nuts and apples, he said:<br> +<br> +‘Mr. Tackleton’s compliments, and as he hasn’t got +no use for the cake himself, p’raps you’ll eat it.’<br> +<br> +And with those words, he walked off.<br> +<br> +There was some surprise among the company, as you may imagine. +Mrs. Fielding, being a lady of infinite discernment, suggested that +the cake was poisoned, and related a narrative of a cake, which, within +her knowledge, had turned a seminary for young ladies, blue. But +she was overruled by acclamation; and the cake was cut by May, with +much ceremony and rejoicing.<br> +<br> +I don’t think any one had tasted it, when there came another tap +at the door, and the same man appeared again, having under his arm a +vast brown-paper parcel.<br> +<br> +‘Mr. Tackleton’s compliments, and he’s sent a few +toys for the Babby. They ain’t ugly.’<br> +<br> +After the delivery of which expressions, he retired again.<br> +<br> +The whole party would have experienced great difficulty in finding words +for their astonishment, even if they had had ample time to seek them. +But they had none at all; for the messenger had scarcely shut the door +behind him, when there came another tap, and Tackleton himself walked +in.<br> +<br> +‘Mrs. Peerybingle!’ said the Toy-merchant, hat in hand. +‘I’m sorry. I’m more sorry than I was this morning. +I have had time to think of it. John Peerybingle! I’m +sour by disposition; but I can’t help being sweetened, more or +less, by coming face to face with such a man as you. Caleb! +This unconscious little nurse gave me a broken hint last night, of which +I have found the thread. I blush to think how easily I might have +bound you and your daughter to me, and what a miserable idiot I was, +when I took her for one! Friends, one and all, my house is very +lonely to-night. I have not so much as a Cricket on my Hearth. +I have scared them all away. Be gracious to me; let me join this +happy party!’<br> +<br> +He was at home in five minutes. You never saw such a fellow. +What <i>had</i> he been doing with himself all his life, never to have +known, before, his great capacity of being jovial! Or what had +the Fairies been doing with him, to have effected such a change!<br> +<br> +‘John! you won’t send me home this evening; will you?’ +whispered Dot.<br> +<br> +He had been very near it though!<br> +<br> +There wanted but one living creature to make the party complete; and, +in the twinkling of an eye, there he was, very thirsty with hard running, +and engaged in hopeless endeavours to squeeze his head into a narrow +pitcher. He had gone with the cart to its journey’s end, +very much disgusted with the absence of his master, and stupendously +rebellious to the Deputy. After lingering about the stable for +some little time, vainly attempting to incite the old horse to the mutinous +act of returning on his own account, he had walked into the tap-room +and laid himself down before the fire. But suddenly yielding to +the conviction that the Deputy was a humbug, and must be abandoned, +he had got up again, turned tail, and come home.<br> +<br> +There was a dance in the evening. With which general mention of +that recreation, I should have left it alone, if I had not some reason +to suppose that it was quite an original dance, and one of a most uncommon +figure. It was formed in an odd way; in this way.<br> +<br> +Edward, that sailor-fellow - a good free dashing sort of a fellow he +was - had been telling them various marvels concerning parrots, and +mines, and Mexicans, and gold dust, when all at once he took it in his +head to jump up from his seat and propose a dance; for Bertha’s +harp was there, and she had such a hand upon it as you seldom hear. +Dot (sly little piece of affectation when she chose) said her dancing +days were over; <i>I</i> think because the Carrier was smoking his pipe, +and she liked sitting by him, best. Mrs. Fielding had no choice, +of course, but to say <i>her</i> dancing days were over, after that; +and everybody said the same, except May; May was ready.<br> +<br> +So, May and Edward got up, amid great applause, to dance alone; and +Bertha plays her liveliest tune.<br> +<br> +Well! if you’ll believe me, they have not been dancing five minutes, +when suddenly the Carrier flings his pipe away, takes Dot round the +waist, dashes out into the room, and starts off with her, toe and heel, +quite wonderfully. Tackleton no sooner sees this, than he skims +across to Mrs. Fielding, takes her round the waist, and follows suit. +Old Dot no sooner sees this, than up he is, all alive, whisks off Mrs. +Dot in the middle of the dance, and is the foremost there. Caleb +no sooner sees this, than he clutches Tilly Slowboy by both hands and +goes off at score; Miss Slowboy, firm in the belief that diving hotly +in among the other couples, and effecting any number of concussions +with them, is your only principle of footing it.<br> +<br> +Hark! how the Cricket joins the music with its Chirp, Chirp, Chirp; +and how the kettle hums!<br> +<br> +* * * * *<br> +<br> +But what is this! Even as I listen to them, blithely, and turn +towards Dot, for one last glimpse of a little figure very pleasant to +me, she and the rest have vanished into air, and I am left alone. +A Cricket sings upon the Hearth; a broken child’s-toy lies upon +the ground; and nothing else remains.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH ***<br> +<pre> + +******This file should be named tcoth11h.htm or tcoth11h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, tcoth12h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, tcoth10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/old/tcoth11h.zip b/old/tcoth11h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..148af64 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/tcoth11h.zip |
