The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club, v. 1 (of 2)

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER XII

  _Descriptive of a very important Proceeding on the part of Mr. Pickwick; no less an Epoch in his Life, than in this History_

  Mr. Pickwick's apartments in Goswell Street, although on a limitedscale, were not only of a very neat and comfortable description,but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his genius andobservation. His sitting-room was the first floor front, his bed-roomthe second floor front; and thus, whether he were sitting at his deskin his parlour, or standing before the dressing-glass in his dormitory,he had an equal opportunity of contemplating human nature in all thenumerous phases it exhibits, in that not more populous than popularthoroughfare. His landlady Mrs. Bardell--the relict and sole executrixof a deceased custom-house officer--was a comely woman of bustlingmanners and agreeable appearance, with a natural genius for cooking,improved by study and long practice, into an exquisite talent. Therewere no children, no servants, no fowls. The only other inmates of thehouse were a large man and a small boy; the first a lodger, the seconda production of Mrs. Bardell's. The large man was always home preciselyat ten o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed himselfinto the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back parlour;and the infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master Bardellwere exclusively confined to the neighbouring pavements and gutters.Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house; and in it Mr.Pickwick's will was law.

  To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy of theestablishment, and conversant with the admirable regulation of Mr.Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behaviour on the morning previousto that which had been fixed upon for the journey to Eatanswill,would have been most mysterious and unaccountable. He paced the roomto and fro with hurried steps, popped his head out of the window atintervals of about three minutes each, constantly referred to hiswatch, and exhibited many other manifestations of impatience veryunusual with him. It was evident that something of great importance wasin contemplation, but what that something was, not even Mrs. Bardellherself had been enabled to discover.

  "Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at last, as that amiable femaleapproached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment--

  "Sir?" said Mrs. Bardell.

  "Your little boy is a very long time gone."

  "Why, it's a good long way to the Borough, sir," remonstrated Mrs.Bardell.

  "Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, "very true; so it is."

  Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed herdusting.

  "Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few minutes.

  "Sir?" said Mrs. Bardell again.

  "Do you think it a much greater expense to keep two people, than tokeep one?"

  "La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, colouring up to the very borderof her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of matrimonialtwinkle in the eyes of her lodger; "La, Mr. Pickwick, what a question!"

  "Well, but _do_ you?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "That depends--" said Mrs. Bardell, approaching the duster very near toMr. Pickwick's elbow, which was planted on the table--"that depends agood deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pickwick; and whether it's asaving and careful person, sir."

  "That's very true," said Mr. Pickwick, "but the person I have in myeye (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) I think possesses thesequalities; and has, moreover, a considerable knowledge of the world,and a great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell; which may be of materialuse to me."

  "La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell; the crimson rising to hercap-border again.

  "I do," said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont inspeaking of a subject which interested him, "I do, indeed; and to tellyou the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind."

  "Dear me, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.

  "You'll think it very strange now," said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, witha good-humoured glance at his companion, "that I never consulted youabout this matter, and never even mentioned it, till I sent your littleboy out this morning--eh?"

  Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long worshipped Mr.Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once raised to apinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant hopes had neverdared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose--a deliberate plan,too--sent her little boy to the Borough, to get him out of the way--howthoughtful--how considerate!

  "Well," said Mr. Pickwick, "what do you think?"

  "Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation, "youare very kind, sir."

  "It'll save you a good deal of trouble, won't it?" said Mr. Pickwick.

  "Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, sir," replied Mrs.Bardell; "and, of course, I should take more trouble to please youthen, than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have somuch consideration for my loneliness."

  "Ah, to be sure," said Mr. Pickwick; "I never thought of that. When Iam in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. To be sure, soyou will."

  "I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardell.

  "And your little boy--" said Mr. Pickwick.

  "Bless his heart!" interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob.

  "He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick, "a lively one,who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week than he wouldever learn in a year." And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly.

  "Oh you dear--" said Mrs. Bardell.

  Mr. Pickwick started.

  "_Oh you kind, good, playful dear_"]

  "Oh you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardell; and without moreado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pickwick'sneck, with a cataract of tears and a chorus of sobs.

  "Bless my soul!" cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick;--"Mrs. Bardell, mygood woman--dear me, what a situation--pray consider.--Mrs. Bardell,don't--if anybody should come----"

  "Oh, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically; "I'll neverleave you--dear, kind, good soul;" and, with these words, Mrs. Bardellclung the tighter.

  "Mercy upon me," said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently, "I hearsomebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good creature,don't." But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing: for Mrs.Bardell had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms; and before he could gaintime to deposit her on a chair, Master Bardell entered the room,ushering in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass.

  Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood with hislovely burden in his arms, gazing vacantly on the countenances of hisfriends, without the slightest attempt at recognition or explanation.They, in their turn, stared at him; and Master Bardell, in his turn,stared at everybody.

  The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and theperplexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might haveremained in exactly the same relative situations until the suspendedanimation of the lady was restored, had it not been for a mostbeautiful and touching expression of filial affection on the part ofher youthful son. Clad in a tight suit of corduroy, spangled withbrass buttons of a very considerable size, he at first stood at thedoor astounded and uncertain; but by degrees, the impression that hismother must have suffered some personal damage, pervaded his partiallydeveloped mind, and considering Mr. Pickwick as the aggressor, he setup an appalling and semi-earthly kind of howling, and butting forwardwith his head, commenced assailing that immortal gentleman about theback and legs, with such blows and pinches as the strength of his arm,and the violence of his excitement, allowed.

  "Take this little villain away," said the agonised Mr. Pickwick, "he'smad."

  "What _is_ the matter?" said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians.

  "I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. "Take away the boy"(here Mr. Winkle carried the interesting boy, screaming and struggling,to the further end of the apartment). "Now, help me, lead this womandownstairs."

  "Oh, I am better now," said Mrs. Bardell, faintly.

  "Let me lead you downstairs," said the
ever gallant Mr. Tupman.

  "Thank you, sir--thank you;" exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, hysterically. Anddownstairs she was led accordingly, accompanied by her affectionate son.

  "I cannot conceive--" said Mr. Pickwick, when his friend returned--"Icannot conceive what has been the matter with that woman. I hadmerely announced to her my intention of keeping a man servant, whenshe fell into the extraordinary paroxysm in which you found her. Veryextraordinary thing."

  "Very," said his three friends.

  "Placed me in such an extremely awkward situation," continued Mr.Pickwick.

  "Very," was the reply of his followers, as they coughed slightly, andlooked dubiously at each other.

  This behaviour was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He remarked theirincredulity. They evidently suspected him.

  "There is a man in the passage now," said Mr. Tupman.

  "It's the man I spoke to you about," said Mr. Pickwick, "I sent forhim to the Borough this morning. Have the goodness to call him up,Snodgrass."

  Mr. Snodgrass did as he was desired; and Mr. Samuel Weller forthwithpresented himself.

  "Oh--you remember me, I suppose?" said Mr. Pickwick.

  "I should think so," replied Sam, with a patronising wink. "Queer startthat 'ere, but he was one too many for you, warn't he? Up to snuff anda pinch or two over--eh?"

  "Never mind that matter now," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily, "I want tospeak to you about something else. Sit down."

  "Thank'ee, sir," said Sam. And down he sat without farther bidding,having previously deposited his old white hat on the landing outsidethe door. "'Tan't a wery good 'un to look at," said Sam, "but it'san astonishin' 'un to wear; and afore the brim went, it was a weryhandsome tile. Hows'ever it's lighter without it, that's one thing,and every hole lets in some air, that's another--wentilation gossamerI calls it." On the delivery of this sentiment, Mr. Weller smiledagreeably upon the assembled Pickwickians.

  "Now with regard to the matter on which I, with the concurrence ofthese gentlemen, sent for you," said Mr. Pickwick.

  "That's the pint, sir," interposed Sam; "out vith it, as the fathersaid to the child, ven he swallowed a farden."

  "We want to know, in the first place," said Mr. Pickwick, "whether youhave any reason to be discontented with your present situation."

  "Afore I answers that 'ere question, gen'lm'n," replied Mr. Weller,"_I_ should like to know, in the first place, whether you're a goin' topurwide me with a better."

  A sunbeam of placid benevolence played on Mr. Pickwick's features as hesaid, "I have half made up my mind to engage you myself."

  "Have you though?" said Sam.

  Mr. Pickwick nodded in the affirmative.

  "Wages?" inquired Sam.

  "Twelve pounds a year," replied Mr. Pickwick.

  "Clothes?"

  "Two suits."

  "Work?"

  "To attend upon me; and travel about with me and these gentlemen here."

  "Take the bill down," said Sam, emphatically "I'm let to a singlegentleman, and the terms is agreed upon."

  "You accept the situation?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

  "Cert'nly," replied Sam. "If the clothes fits me half as well as theplace, they'll do."

  "You can get a character, of course?" said Mr. Pickwick.

  "Ask the landlady o' the White Hart about that, sir," replied Sam.

  "Can you come this evening?"

  "I'll get into the clothes this minute, if they're here," said Sam withgreat alacrity.

  "Call at eight this evening," said Mr. Pickwick; "and if the inquiriesare satisfactory, they shall be provided."

  With the single exception of one amiable indiscretion, in whichan assistant housemaid had equally participated, the history ofMr. Weller's conduct was so very blameless, that Mr. Pickwick feltfully justified in closing the engagement that very evening. Withthe promptness and energy which characterised not only the publicproceedings, but all the private actions of this extraordinary man,he at once led his new attendant to one of those convenient emporiumswhere gentlemen's new and second-hand clothes are provided, and thetroublesome and inconvenient formality of measurement dispensed with;and before night had closed in, Mr. Weller was furnished with a greycoat with the P.?C. button, a black hat with a cockade to it, a pinkstriped waistcoat, light breeches and gaiters, and a variety of othernecessaries, too numerous to recapitulate.

  "Well," said that suddenly transformed individual, as he took his seaton the outside of the Eatanswill coach next morning; "I wonder whetherI'm meant to be a footman, or a groom, or a gamekeeper, or a seedsman.I looks like a sort of compo of every one on 'em. Never mind; there'schange of air, plenty to see, and little to do; and all this suits mycomplaint uncommon; so long life to the Pickvicks, says I!"