Chapter 14

by Charles Dickens

　　Having the Misfortune to treat of none but Common People, isnecessarily of a Mean and Vulgar CharacterIn that quarter of London in which Golden Square is situated, thereis a bygone, faded, tumble-down street, with two irregular rows oftall meagre houses, which seem to have stared each other out ofcountenance years ago. The very chimneys appear to have growndismal and melancholy, from having had nothing better to look atthan the chimneys over the way. Their tops are battered, andbroken, and blackened with smoke; and, here and there, some tallerstack than the rest, inclining heavily to one side, and topplingover the roof, seems to mediate taking revenge for half a century'sneglect, by crushing the inhabitants of the garrets beneath.The fowls who peck about the kennels, jerking their bodies hitherand thither with a gait which none but town fowls are ever seen toadopt, and which any country cock or hen would be puzzled tounderstand, are perfectly in keeping with the crazy habitations oftheir owners. Dingy, ill-plumed, drowsy flutterers, sent, like manyof the neighbouring children, to get a livelihood in the streets,they hop, from stone to stone, in forlorn search of some hiddeneatable in the mud, and can scarcely raise a crow among them. Theonly one with anything approaching to a voice, is an aged bantam atthe baker's; and even he is hoarse, in consequence of bad living inhis last place.To judge from the size of the houses, they have been, at one time,tenanted by persons of better condition than their presentoccupants; but they are now let off, by the week, in floors orrooms, and every door has almost as many plates or bell-handles asthere are apartments within. The windows are, for the same reason,sufficiently diversified in appearance, being ornamented with everyvariety of common blind and curtain that can easily be imagined;while every doorway is blocked up, and rendered nearly impassable,by a motley collection of children and porter pots of all sizes,from the baby in arms and the half-pint pot, to the full-grown girland half-gallon can.In the parlour of one of these houses, which was perhaps a thoughtdirtier than any of its neighbours; which exhibited more bell-handles, children, and porter pots, and caught in all its freshnessthe first gust of the thick black smoke that poured forth, night andday, from a large brewery hard by; hung a bill, announcing thatthere was yet one room to let within its walls, though on what storythe vacant room could be--regard being had to the outward tokens ofmany lodgers which the whole front displayed, from the mangle in thekitchen window to the flower-pots on the parapet--it would have beenbeyond the power of a calculating boy to discover.The common stairs of this mansion were bare and carpetless; but acurious visitor who had to climb his way to the top, might haveobserved that there were not wanting indications of the progressivepoverty of the inmates, although their rooms were shut. Thus, thefirst-floor lodgers, being flush of furniture, kept an old mahoganytable--real mahogany--on the landing-place outside, which was onlytaken in, when occasion required. On the second story, the sparefurniture dwindled down to a couple of old deal chairs, of whichone, belonging to the back-room, was shorn of a leg, and bottomless.The story above, boasted no greater excess than a worm-eaten wash-tub; and the garret landing-place displayed no costlier articlesthan two crippled pitchers, and some broken blacking-bottles.It was on this garret landing-place that a hard-featured square-faced man, elderly and shabby, stopped to unlock the door of thefront attic, into which, having surmounted the task of turning therusty key in its still more rusty wards, he walked with the air oflegal owner.This person wore a wig of short, coarse, red hair, which he took offwith his hat, and hung upon a nail. Having adopted in its place adirty cotton nightcap, and groped about in the dark till he found aremnant of candle, he knocked at the partition which divided the twogarrets, and inquired, in a loud voice, whether Mr Noggs had alight.The sounds that came back were stifled by the lath and plaster, andit seemed moreover as though the speaker had uttered them from theinterior of a mug or other drinking vessel; but they were in thevoice of Newman, and conveyed a reply in the affirmative.'A nasty night, Mr Noggs!' said the man in the nightcap, stepping into light his candle.'Does it rain?' asked Newman.'Does it?' replied the other pettishly. 'I am wet through.''It doesn't take much to wet you and me through, Mr Crowl,' saidNewman, laying his hand upon the lappel of his threadbare coat.'Well; and that makes it the more vexatious,' observed Mr Crowl, inthe same pettish tone.Uttering a low querulous growl, the speaker, whose harsh countenancewas the very epitome of selfishness, raked the scanty fire nearlyout of the grate, and, emptying the glass which Noggs had pushedtowards him, inquired where he kept his coals.Newman Noggs pointed to the bottom of a cupboard, and Mr Crowl,seizing the shovel, threw on half the stock: which Noggs verydeliberately took off again, without saying a word.'You have not turned saving, at this time of day, I hope?' saidCrowl.Newman pointed to the empty glass, as though it were a sufficientrefutation of the charge, and briefly said that he was goingdownstairs to supper.'To the Kenwigses?' asked Crowl.Newman nodded assent.'Think of that now!' said Crowl. 'If I didn't--thinking that youwere certain not to go, because you said you wouldn't--tell KenwigsI couldn't come, and make up my mind to spend the evening with you!''I was obliged to go,' said Newman. 'They would have me.''Well; but what's to become of me?' urged the selfish man, who neverthought of anybody else. 'It's all your fault. I'll tell you what--I'll sit by your fire till you come back again.'Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but, nothaving the courage to say no--a word which in all his life he neverhad said at the right time, either to himself or anyone else--gaveway to the proposed arrangement. Mr Crowl immediately went aboutmaking himself as comfortable, with Newman Nogg's means, ascircumstances would admit of his being made.The lodgers to whom Crowl had made allusion under the designation of'the Kenwigses,' were the wife and olive branches of one Mr Kenwigs,a turner in ivory, who was looked upon as a person of someconsideration on the premises, inasmuch as he occupied the whole ofthe first floor, comprising a suite of two rooms. Mrs Kenwigs, too,was quite a lady in her manners, and of a very genteel family,having an uncle who collected a water-rate; besides whichdistinction, the two eldest of her little girls went twice a week toa dancing school in the neighbourhood, and had flaxen hair, tiedwith blue ribbons, hanging in luxuriant pigtails down their backs;and wore little white trousers with frills round the ankles--for allof which reasons, and many more equally valid but too numerous tomention, Mrs Kenwigs was considered a very desirable person to know,and was the constant theme of all the gossips in the street, andeven three or four doors round the corner at both ends.It was the anniversary of that happy day on which the Church ofEngland as by law established, had bestowed Mrs Kenwigs upon MrKenwigs; and in grateful commemoration of the same, Mrs Kenwigs hadinvited a few select friends to cards and a supper in the firstfloor, and had put on a new gown to receive them in: which gown,being of a flaming colour and made upon a juvenile principle, was sosuccessful that Mr Kenwigs said the eight years of matrimony and thefive children seemed all a dream, and Mrs Kenwigs younger and moreblooming than on the very first Sunday he had kept company with her.Beautiful as Mrs Kenwigs looked when she was dressed though, and sostately that you would have supposed she had a cook and housemaid atleast, and nothing to do but order them about, she had a world oftrouble with the preparations; more, indeed, than she, being of adelicate and genteel constitution, could have sustained, had not thepride of housewifery upheld her. At last, however, all the thingsthat had to be got together were got together, and all the thingsthat had to be got out of the way were got out of the way, andeverything was ready, and the collector himself having promised tocome, fortune smiled upon the occasion.The party was admirably selected. There were, first of all, MrKenwigs and Mrs Kenwigs, and four olive Kenwigses who sat up tosupper; firstly, because it was but right that they should have atreat on such a day; and secondly, because their going to bed, inpresence of the company, would have been inconvenient, not to sayimproper. Then, there was a young lady who had made Mrs Kenwigs'sdress, and who--it was the most convenient thing in the world--living in the two-pair back, gave up her bed to the baby, and got alittle girl to watch it. Then, to match this young lady, was ayoung man, who had known Mr Kenwigs when he was a bachelor, and wasmuch esteemed by the ladies, as bearing the reputation of a rake.To these were added a newly-married couple, who had visited Mr andMrs Kenwigs in their courtship; and a sister of Mrs Kenwigs's, whowas quite a beauty; besides whom, there was another young man,supposed to entertain honourable designs upon the lady lastmentioned; and Mr Noggs, who was a genteel person to ask, because hehad been a gentleman once. There were also an elderly lady from theback-parlour, and one more young lady, who, next to the collector,perhaps was the great lion of the party, being the daughter of atheatrical fireman, who 'went on' in the pantomime, and had thegreatest turn for the stage that was ever known, being able to singand recite in a manner that brought the tears into Mrs Kenwigs'seyes. There was only one drawback upon the pleasure of seeing suchfriends, and that was, that the lady in the back-parlour, who wasvery fat, and turned of sixty, came in a low book-muslin dress andshort kid gloves, which so exasperated Mrs Kenwigs, that that ladyassured her visitors, in private, that if it hadn't happened thatthe supper was cooking at the back-parlour grate at that moment, shecertainly would have requested its representative to withdraw.'My dear,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'wouldn't it be better to begin a roundgame?''Kenwigs, my dear,' returned his wife, 'I am surprised at you.Would you begin without my uncle?''I forgot the collector,' said Kenwigs; 'oh no, that would neverdo.''He's so particular,' said Mrs Kenwigs, turning to the other marriedlady, 'that if we began without him, I should be out of his will forever.''Dear!' cried the married lady.'You've no idea what he is,' replied Mrs Kenwigs; 'and yet as good acreature as ever breathed.''The kindest-hearted man as ever was,' said Kenwigs.'It goes to his heart, I believe, to be forced to cut the water off,when the people don't pay,' observed the bachelor friend, intendinga joke.'George,' said Mr Kenwigs, solemnly, 'none of that, if you please.''It was only my joke,' said the friend, abashed.'George,' rejoined Mr Kenwigs, 'a joke is a wery good thing--a werygood thing--but when that joke is made at the expense of MrsKenwigs's feelings, I set my face against it. A man in public lifeexpects to be sneered at--it is the fault of his elewatedsitiwation, and not of himself. Mrs Kenwigs's relation is a publicman, and that he knows, George, and that he can bear; but puttingMrs Kenwigs out of the question (if I could put Mrs Kenwigs out ofthe question on such an occasion as this), I have the honour to beconnected with the collector by marriage; and I cannot allow theseremarks in my--' Mr Kenwigs was going to say 'house,' but he roundedthe sentence with 'apartments'.At the conclusion of these observations, which drew forth evidencesof acute feeling from Mrs Kenwigs, and had the intended effect ofimpressing the company with a deep sense of the collector's dignity,a ring was heard at the bell.'That's him,' whispered Mr Kenwigs, greatly excited. 'Morleena, mydear, run down and let your uncle in, and kiss him directly you getthe door open. Hem! Let's be talking.'Adopting Mr Kenwigs's suggestion, the company spoke very loudly, tolook easy and unembarrassed; and almost as soon as they had begun todo so, a short old gentleman in drabs and gaiters, with a face thatmight have been carved out of lignum vitae, for anything thatappeared to the contrary, was led playfully in by Miss MorleenaKenwigs, regarding whose uncommon Christian name it may be hereremarked that it had been invented and composed by Mrs Kenwigsprevious to her first lying-in, for the special distinction of hereldest child, in case it should prove a daughter.'Oh, uncle, I am so glad to see you,' said Mrs Kenwigs, kissing thecollector affectionately on both cheeks. 'So glad!''Many happy returns of the day, my dear,' replied the collector,returning the compliment.Now, this was an interesting thing. Here was a collector of water-rates, without his book, without his pen and ink, without his doubleknock, without his intimidation, kissing--actually kissing--anagreeable female, and leaving taxes, summonses, notices that he hadcalled, or announcements that he would never call again, for twoquarters' due, wholly out of the question. It was pleasant to seehow the company looked on, quite absorbed in the sight, and tobehold the nods and winks with which they expressed theirgratification at finding so much humanity in a tax-gatherer.'Where will you sit, uncle?' said Mrs Kenwigs, in the full glow offamily pride, which the appearance of her distinguished relationoccasioned.'Anywheres, my dear,' said the collector, 'I am not particular.'Not particular! What a meek collector! If he had been an author,who knew his place, he couldn't have been more humble.'Mr Lillyvick,' said Kenwigs, addressing the collector, 'somefriends here, sir, are very anxious for the honour of--thank you--Mrand Mrs Cutler, Mr Lillyvick.''Proud to know you, sir,' said Mr Cutler; 'I've heerd of you veryoften.' These were not mere words of ceremony; for, Mr Cutler,having kept house in Mr Lillyvick's parish, had heard of him veryoften indeed. His attention in calling had been quite extraordinary.'George, you know, I think, Mr Lillyvick,' said Kenwigs; 'lady fromdownstairs--Mr Lillyvick. Mr Snewkes--Mr Lillyvick. Miss Green--MrLillyvick. Mr Lillyvick--Miss Petowker of the Theatre Royal, DruryLane. Very glad to make two public characters acquainted! MrsKenwigs, my dear, will you sort the counters?'Mrs Kenwigs, with the assistance of Newman Noggs, (who, as heperformed sundry little acts of kindness for the children, at alltimes and seasons, was humoured in his request to be taken no noticeof, and was merely spoken about, in a whisper, as the decayedgentleman), did as he was desired; and the greater part of theguests sat down to speculation, while Newman himself, Mrs Kenwigs,and Miss Petowker of the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, looked after thesupper-table.While the ladies were thus busying themselves, Mr Lillyvick wasintent upon the game in progress, and as all should be fish thatcomes to a water-collector's net, the dear old gentleman was by nomeans scrupulous in appropriating to himself the property of hisneighbours, which, on the contrary, he abstracted whenever anopportunity presented itself, smiling good-humouredly all the while,and making so many condescending speeches to the owners, that theywere delighted with his amiability, and thought in their hearts thathe deserved to be Chancellor of the Exchequer at least.After a great deal of trouble, and the administration of many slapson the head to the infant Kenwigses, whereof two of the mostrebellious were summarily banished, the cloth was laid with muchelegance, and a pair of boiled fowls, a large piece of pork, apple-pie, potatoes and greens, were served; at sight of which, the worthyMr Lillyvick vented a great many witticisms, and plucked upamazingly: to the immense delight and satisfaction of the whole bodyof admirers.Very well and very fast the supper went off; no more seriousdifficulties occurring, than those which arose from the incessantdemand for clean knives and forks; which made poor Mrs Kenwigs wish,more than once, that private society adopted the principle ofschools, and required that every guest should bring his own knife,fork, and spoon; which doubtless would be a great accommodation inmany cases, and to no one more so than to the lady and gentleman ofthe house, especially if the school principle were carried out tothe full extent, and the articles were expected, as a matter ofdelicacy, not to be taken away again.Everybody having eaten everything, the table was cleared in a mostalarming hurry, and with great noise; and the spirits, whereat theeyes of Newman Noggs glistened, being arranged in order, with waterboth hot and cold, the party composed themselves for conviviality;Mr Lillyvick being stationed in a large armchair by the fireside,and the four little Kenwigses disposed on a small form in front ofthe company with their flaxen tails towards them, and their faces tothe fire; an arrangement which was no sooner perfected, than MrsKenwigs was overpowered by the feelings of a mother, and fell uponthe left shoulder of Mr Kenwigs dissolved in tears.'They are so beautiful!' said Mrs Kenwigs, sobbing.'Oh, dear,' said all the ladies, 'so they are! it's very natural youshould feel proud of that; but don't give way, don't.''I can--not help it, and it don't signify,' sobbed Mrs Kenwigs; 'oh!they're too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!'On hearing this alarming presentiment of their being doomed to anearly death in the flower of their infancy, all four little girlsraised a hideous cry, and burying their heads in their mother's lapsimultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails vibratedagain; Mrs Kenwigs meanwhile clasping them alternately to her bosom,with attitudes expressive of distraction, which Miss Petowkerherself might have copied.At length, the anxious mother permitted herself to be soothed into amore tranquil state, and the little Kenwigses, being also composed,were distributed among the company, to prevent the possibility ofMrs Kenwigs being again overcome by the blaze of their combinedbeauty. This done, the ladies and gentlemen united in prophesyingthat they would live for many, many years, and that there was nooccasion at all for Mrs Kenwigs to distress herself; which, in goodtruth, there did not appear to be; the loveliness of the children byno means justifying her apprehensions.'This day eight year,' said Mr Kenwigs after a pause. 'Dear me--ah!'This reflection was echoed by all present, who said 'Ah!' first, and'dear me,' afterwards.'I was younger then,' tittered Mrs Kenwigs.'No,' said the collector.'Certainly not,' added everybody.'I remember my niece,' said Mr Lillyvick, surveying his audiencewith a grave air; 'I remember her, on that very afternoon, when shefirst acknowledged to her mother a partiality for Kenwigs."Mother," she says, "I love him."''"Adore him," I said, uncle,' interposed Mrs Kenwigs.'"Love him," I think, my dear,' said the collector, firmly.'Perhaps you are right, uncle,' replied Mrs Kenwigs, submissively.'I thought it was "adore."''"Love," my dear,' retorted Mr Lillyvick. '"Mother," she says, "Ilove him!" "What do I hear?" cries her mother; and instantly fallsinto strong conwulsions.'A general exclamation of astonishment burst from the company.'Into strong conwulsions,' repeated Mr Lillyvick, regarding themwith a rigid look. 'Kenwigs will excuse my saying, in the presenceof friends, that there was a very great objection to him, on theground that he was beneath the family, and would disgrace it. Youremember, Kenwigs?''Certainly,' replied that gentleman, in no way displeased at thereminiscence, inasmuch as it proved, beyond all doubt, what a highfamily Mrs Kenwigs came of.'I shared in that feeling,' said Mr Lillyvick: 'perhaps it wasnatural; perhaps it wasn't.'A gentle murmur seemed to say, that, in one of Mr Lillyvick'sstation, the objection was not only natural, but highly praiseworthy.'I came round to him in time,' said Mr Lillyvick. 'After they weremarried, and there was no help for it, I was one of the first to saythat Kenwigs must be taken notice of. The family did take notice ofhim, in consequence, and on my representation; and I am bound tosay--and proud to say--that I have always found him a very honest,well-behaved, upright, respectable sort of man. Kenwigs, shakehands.''I am proud to do it, sir,' said Mr Kenwigs.'So am I, Kenwigs,' rejoined Mr Lillyvick.'A very happy life I have led with your niece, sir,' said Kenwigs.'It would have been your own fault if you had not, sir,' remarked MrLillyvick.'Morleena Kenwigs,' cried her mother, at this crisis, much affected,'kiss your dear uncle!'The young lady did as she was requested, and the three other littlegirls were successively hoisted up to the collector's countenance,and subjected to the same process, which was afterwards repeated onthem by the majority of those present.'Oh dear, Mrs Kenwigs,' said Miss Petowker, 'while Mr Noggs ismaking that punch to drink happy returns in, do let Morleena gothrough that figure dance before Mr Lillyvick.''No, no, my dear,' replied Mrs Kenwigs, 'it will only worry myuncle.''It can't worry him, I am sure,' said Miss Petowker. 'You will bevery much pleased, won't you, sir?''That I am sure I shall' replied the collector, glancing at thepunch-mixer.'Well then, I'll tell you what,' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'Morleena shalldo the steps, if uncle can persuade Miss Petowker to recite us theBlood-Drinker's Burial, afterwards.'There was a great clapping of hands and stamping of feet, at thisproposition; the subject whereof, gently inclined her head severaltimes, in acknowledgment of the reception.'You know,' said Miss Petowker, reproachfully, 'that I dislike doinganything professional in private parties.''Oh, but not here!' said Mrs Kenwigs. 'We are all so very friendlyand pleasant, that you might as well be going through it in your ownroom; besides, the occasion--''I can't resist that,' interrupted Miss Petowker; 'anything in myhumble power I shall be delighted to do.'Mrs Kenwigs and Miss Petowker had arranged a small programme of theentertainments between them, of which this was the prescribed order,but they had settled to have a little pressing on both sides,because it looked more natural. The company being all ready, MissPetowker hummed a tune, and Morleena danced a dance; havingpreviously had the soles of her shoes chalked, with as much care asif she were going on the tight-rope. It was a very beautifulfigure, comprising a great deal of work for the arms, and wasreceived with unbounded applause.'If I was blessed with a--a child--' said Miss Petowker, blushing,'of such genius as that, I would have her out at the Operainstantly.'Mrs Kenwigs sighed, and looked at Mr Kenwigs, who shook his head,and observed that he was doubtful about it.'Kenwigs is afraid,' said Mrs K.'What of?' inquired Miss Petowker, 'not of her failing?''Oh no,' replied Mrs Kenwigs, 'but if she grew up what she is now,--only think of the young dukes and marquises.''Very right,' said the collector.'Still,' submitted Miss Petowker, 'if she took a proper pride inherself, you know--''There's a good deal in that,' observed Mrs Kenwigs, looking at herhusband.'I only know--' faltered Miss Petowker,--'it may be no rule to besure--but I have never found any inconvenience or unpleasantness ofthat sort.'Mr Kenwigs, with becoming gallantry, said that settled the questionat once, and that he would take the subject into his seriousconsideration. This being resolved upon, Miss Petowker wasentreated to begin the Blood-Drinker's Burial; to which end, thatyoung lady let down her back hair, and taking up her position at theother end of the room, with the bachelor friend posted in a corner,to rush out at the cue 'in death expire,' and catch her in his armswhen she died raving mad, went through the performance withextraordinary spirit, and to the great terror of the littleKenwigses, who were all but frightened into fits.The ecstasies consequent upon the effort had not yet subsided, andNewman (who had not been thoroughly sober at so late an hour for along long time,) had not yet been able to put in a word ofannouncement, that the punch was ready, when a hasty knock was heardat the room-door, which elicited a shriek from Mrs Kenwigs, whoimmediately divined that the baby had fallen out of bed.'Who is that?' demanded Mr Kenwigs, sharply.'Don't be alarmed, it's only me,' said Crowl, looking in, in hisnightcap. 'The baby is very comfortable, for I peeped into the roomas I came down, and it's fast asleep, and so is the girl; and Idon't think the candle will set fire to the bed-curtain, unless adraught was to get into the room--it's Mr Noggs that's wanted.''Me!' cried Newman, much astonished.'Why, it is a queer hour, isn't it?' replied Crowl, who was not bestpleased at the prospect of losing his fire; 'and they are queer-looking people, too, all covered with rain and mud. Shall I tellthem to go away?''No,' said Newman, rising. 'People? How many?''Two,' rejoined Crowl.'Want me? By name?' asked Newman.'By name,' replied Crowl. 'Mr Newman Noggs, as pat as need be.'Newman reflected for a few seconds, and then hurried away, mutteringthat he would be back directly. He was as good as his word; for, inan exceedingly short time, he burst into the room, and seizing,without a word of apology or explanation, a lighted candle andtumbler of hot punch from the table, darted away like a madman.'What the deuce is the matter with him?' exclaimed Crowl, throwingthe door open. 'Hark! Is there any noise above?'The guests rose in great confusion, and, looking in each other'sfaces with much perplexity and some fear, stretched their necksforward, and listened attentively.