Chapter 23

by Charles Dickens

　　Treats of the Company of Mr Vincent Crummles, and of his Affairs,Domestic and TheatricalAs Mr Crummles had a strange four-legged animal in the inn stables,which he called a pony, and a vehicle of unknown design, on which hebestowed the appellation of a four-wheeled phaeton, Nicholasproceeded on his journey next morning with greater ease than he hadexpected: the manager and himself occupying the front seat: and theMaster Crummleses and Smike being packed together behind, in companywith a wicker basket defended from wet by a stout oilskin, in whichwere the broad-swords, pistols, pigtails, nautical costumes, andother professional necessaries of the aforesaid young gentlemen.The pony took his time upon the road, and--possibly in consequenceof his theatrical education--evinced, every now and then, a stronginclination to lie down. However, Mr Vincent Crummles kept him uppretty well, by jerking the rein, and plying the whip; and whenthese means failed, and the animal came to a stand, the elder MasterCrummles got out and kicked him. By dint of these encouragements,he was persuaded to move from time to time, and they jogged on (asMr Crummles truly observed) very comfortably for all parties.'He's a good pony at bottom,' said Mr Crummles, turning to Nicholas.He might have been at bottom, but he certainly was not at top,seeing that his coat was of the roughest and most ill-favoured kind.So, Nicholas merely observed that he shouldn't wonder if he was.'Many and many is the circuit this pony has gone,' said Mr Crummles,flicking him skilfully on the eyelid for old acquaintance' sake.'He is quite one of us. His mother was on the stage.''Was she?' rejoined Nicholas.'She ate apple-pie at a circus for upwards of fourteen years,' saidthe manager; 'fired pistols, and went to bed in a nightcap; and, inshort, took the low comedy entirely. His father was a dancer.''Was he at all distinguished?''Not very,' said the manager. 'He was rather a low sort of pony.The fact is, he had been originally jobbed out by the day, and henever quite got over his old habits. He was clever in melodramatoo, but too broad--too broad. When the mother died, he took theport-wine business.''The port-wine business!' cried Nicholas.'Drinking port-wine with the clown,' said the manager; 'but he wasgreedy, and one night bit off the bowl of the glass, and chokedhimself, so his vulgarity was the death of him at last.'The descendant of this ill-starred animal requiring increasedattention from Mr Crummles as he progressed in his day's work, thatgentleman had very little time for conversation. Nicholas was thusleft at leisure to entertain himself with his own thoughts, untilthey arrived at the drawbridge at Portsmouth, when Mr Crummlespulled up.'We'll get down here,' said the manager, 'and the boys will take himround to the stable, and call at my lodgings with the luggage. Youhad better let yours be taken there, for the present.'Thanking Mr Vincent Crummles for his obliging offer, Nicholas jumpedout, and, giving Smike his arm, accompanied the manager up HighStreet on their way to the theatre; feeling nervous anduncomfortable enough at the prospect of an immediate introduction toa scene so new to him.They passed a great many bills, pasted against the walls anddisplayed in windows, wherein the names of Mr Vincent Crummles, MrsVincent Crummles, Master Crummles, Master P. Crummles, and MissCrummles, were printed in very large letters, and everything else invery small ones; and, turning at length into an entry, in which wasa strong smell of orange-peel and lamp-oil, with an under-current ofsawdust, groped their way through a dark passage, and, descending astep or two, threaded a little maze of canvas screens and paintpots, and emerged upon the stage of the Portsmouth Theatre.'Here we are,' said Mr Crummles.It was not very light, but Nicholas found himself close to the firstentrance on the prompt side, among bare walls, dusty scenes,mildewed clouds, heavily daubed draperies, and dirty floors. Helooked about him; ceiling, pit, boxes, gallery, orchestra, fittings,and decorations of every kind,--all looked coarse, cold, gloomy, andwretched.'Is this a theatre?' whispered Smike, in amazement; 'I thought itwas a blaze of light and finery.''Why, so it is,' replied Nicholas, hardly less surprised; 'but notby day, Smike--not by day.'The manager's voice recalled him from a more careful inspection ofthe building, to the opposite side of the proscenium, where, at asmall mahogany table with rickety legs and of an oblong shape, sat astout, portly female, apparently between forty and fifty, in atarnished silk cloak, with her bonnet dangling by the strings in herhand, and her hair (of which she had a great quantity) braided in alarge festoon over each temple.'Mr Johnson,' said the manager (for Nicholas had given the namewhich Newman Noggs had bestowed upon him in his conversation withMrs Kenwigs), 'let me introduce Mrs Vincent Crummles.''I am glad to see you, sir,' said Mrs Vincent Crummles, in asepulchral voice. 'I am very glad to see you, and still more happyto hail you as a promising member of our corps.'The lady shook Nicholas by the hand as she addressed him in theseterms; he saw it was a large one, but had not expected quite such aniron grip as that with which she honoured him.'And this,' said the lady, crossing to Smike, as tragic actressescross when they obey a stage direction, 'and this is the other. Youtoo, are welcome, sir.''He'll do, I think, my dear?' said the manager, taking a pinch ofsnuff.'He is admirable,' replied the lady. 'An acquisition indeed.'As Mrs Vincent Crummles recrossed back to the table, there boundedon to the stage from some mysterious inlet, a little girl in a dirtywhite frock with tucks up to the knees, short trousers, sandaledshoes, white spencer, pink gauze bonnet, green veil and curl papers;who turned a pirouette, cut twice in the air, turned anotherpirouette, then, looking off at the opposite wing, shrieked, boundedforward to within six inches of the footlights, and fell into abeautiful attitude of terror, as a shabby gentleman in an old pairof buff slippers came in at one powerful slide, and chattering histeeth, fiercely brandished a walking-stick.'They are going through the Indian Savage and the Maiden,' said MrsCrummles.'Oh!' said the manager, 'the little ballet interlude. Very good, goon. A little this way, if you please, Mr Johnson. That'll do.Now!'The manager clapped his hands as a signal to proceed, and thesavage, becoming ferocious, made a slide towards the maiden; but themaiden avoided him in six twirls, and came down, at the end of thelast one, upon the very points of her toes. This seemed to makesome impression upon the savage; for, after a little more ferocityand chasing of the maiden into corners, he began to relent, andstroked his face several times with his right thumb and fourfingers, thereby intimating that he was struck with admiration ofthe maiden's beauty. Acting upon the impulse of this passion, he(the savage) began to hit himself severe thumps in the chest, and toexhibit other indications of being desperately in love, which beingrather a prosy proceeding, was very likely the cause of the maiden'sfalling asleep; whether it was or no, asleep she did fall, sound asa church, on a sloping bank, and the savage perceiving it, leant hisleft ear on his left hand, and nodded sideways, to intimate to allwhom it might concern that she was asleep, and no shamming. Beingleft to himself, the savage had a dance, all alone. Just as he leftoff, the maiden woke up, rubbed her eyes, got off the bank, and hada dance all alone too--such a dance that the savage looked on inecstasy all the while, and when it was done, plucked from aneighbouring tree some botanical curiosity, resembling a smallpickled cabbage, and offered it to the maiden, who at first wouldn'thave it, but on the savage shedding tears relented. Then the savagejumped for joy; then the maiden jumped for rapture at the sweetsmell of the pickled cabbage. Then the savage and the maiden dancedviolently together, and, finally, the savage dropped down on oneknee, and the maiden stood on one leg upon his other knee; thusconcluding the ballet, and leaving the spectators in a state ofpleasing uncertainty, whether she would ultimately marry the savage,or return to her friends.'Very well indeed,' said Mr Crummles; 'bravo!''Bravo!' cried Nicholas, resolved to make the best of everything.'Beautiful!''This, sir,' said Mr Vincent Crummles, bringing the maiden forward,'this is the infant phenomenon--Miss Ninetta Crummles.''Your daughter?' inquired Nicholas.'My daughter--my daughter,' replied Mr Vincent Crummles; 'the idolof every place we go into, sir. We have had complimentary lettersabout this girl, sir, from the nobility and gentry of almost everytown in England.''I am not surprised at that,' said Nicholas; 'she must be quite anatural genius.''Quite a--!' Mr Crummles stopped: language was not powerful enoughto describe the infant phenomenon. 'I'll tell you what, sir,' hesaid; 'the talent of this child is not to be imagined. She must beseen, sir--seen--to be ever so faintly appreciated. There; go toyour mother, my dear.''May I ask how old she is?' inquired Nicholas.'You may, sir,' replied Mr Crummles, looking steadily in hisquestioner's face, as some men do when they have doubts about beingimplicitly believed in what they are going to say. 'She is tenyears of age, sir.''Not more!''Not a day.''Dear me!' said Nicholas, 'it's extraordinary.'It was; for the infant phenomenon, though of short stature, had acomparatively aged countenance, and had moreover been precisely thesame age--not perhaps to the full extent of the memory of the oldestinhabitant, but certainly for five good years. But she had beenkept up late every night, and put upon an unlimited allowance ofgin-and-water from infancy, to prevent her growing tall, and perhapsthis system of training had produced in the infant phenomenon theseadditional phenomena.While this short dialogue was going on, the gentleman who hadenacted the savage, came up, with his walking shoes on his feet, andhis slippers in his hand, to within a few paces, as if desirous tojoin in the conversation. Deeming this a good opportunity, he putin his word.'Talent there, sir!' said the savage, nodding towards Miss Crummles.Nicholas assented.'Ah!' said the actor, setting his teeth together, and drawing in hisbreath with a hissing sound, 'she oughtn't to be in the provinces,she oughtn't.''What do you mean?' asked the manager.'I mean to say,' replied the other, warmly, 'that she is too goodfor country boards, and that she ought to be in one of the largehouses in London, or nowhere; and I tell you more, without mincingthe matter, that if it wasn't for envy and jealousy in some quarterthat you know of, she would be. Perhaps you'll introduce me here,Mr Crummles.''Mr Folair,' said the manager, presenting him to Nicholas.'Happy to know you, sir.' Mr Folair touched the brim of his hat withhis forefinger, and then shook hands. 'A recruit, sir, Iunderstand?''An unworthy one,' replied Nicholas.'Did you ever see such a set-out as that?' whispered the actor,drawing him away, as Crummles left them to speak to his wife.'As what?'Mr Folair made a funny face from his pantomime collection, andpointed over his shoulder.'You don't mean the infant phenomenon?''Infant humbug, sir,' replied Mr Folair. 'There isn't a femalechild of common sharpness in a charity school, that couldn't dobetter than that. She may thank her stars she was born a manager'sdaughter.''You seem to take it to heart,' observed Nicholas, with a smile.'Yes, by Jove, and well I may,' said Mr Folair, drawing his armthrough his, and walking him up and down the stage. 'Isn't itenough to make a man crusty to see that little sprawler put up inthe best business every night, and actually keeping money out of thehouse, by being forced down the people's throats, while other peopleare passed over? Isn't it extraordinary to see a man's confoundedfamily conceit blinding him, even to his own interest? Why I knowof fifteen and sixpence that came to Southampton one night lastmonth, to see me dance the Highland Fling; and what's theconsequence? I've never been put up in it since--never once--whilethe "infant phenomenon" has been grinning through artificial flowersat five people and a baby in the pit, and two boys in the gallery,every night.''If I may judge from what I have seen of you,' said Nicholas, 'youmust be a valuable member of the company.''Oh!' replied Mr Folair, beating his slippers together, to knock thedust out; 'I can come it pretty well--nobody better, perhaps, in myown line--but having such business as one gets here, is like puttinglead on one's feet instead of chalk, and dancing in fetters withoutthe credit of it. Holloa, old fellow, how are you?'The gentleman addressed in these latter words was a dark-complexioned man, inclining indeed to sallow, with long thick blackhair, and very evident inclinations (although he was close shaved)of a stiff beard, and whiskers of the same deep shade. His age didnot appear to exceed thirty, though many at first sight would haveconsidered him much older, as his face was long, and very pale, fromthe constant application of stage paint. He wore a checked shirt,an old green coat with new gilt buttons, a neckerchief of broad redand green stripes, and full blue trousers; he carried, too, a commonash walking-stick, apparently more for show than use, as heflourished it about, with the hooked end downwards, except when heraised it for a few seconds, and throwing himself into a fencingattitude, made a pass or two at the side-scenes, or at any otherobject, animate or inanimate, that chanced to afford him a prettygood mark at the moment.'Well, Tommy,' said this gentleman, making a thrust at his friend,who parried it dexterously with his slipper, 'what's the news?''A new appearance, that's all,' replied Mr Folair, looking atNicholas.'Do the honours, Tommy, do the honours,' said the other gentleman,tapping him reproachfully on the crown of the hat with his stick.'This is Mr Lenville, who does our first tragedy, Mr Johnson,' saidthe pantomimist.'Except when old bricks and mortar takes it into his head to do ithimself, you should add, Tommy,' remarked Mr Lenville. 'You knowwho bricks and mortar is, I suppose, sir?''I do not, indeed,' replied Nicholas.'We call Crummles that, because his style of acting is rather in theheavy and ponderous way,' said Mr Lenville. 'I mustn't be crackingjokes though, for I've got a part of twelve lengths here, which Imust be up in tomorrow night, and I haven't had time to look at ityet; I'm a confounded quick study, that's one comfort.'Consoling himself with this reflection, Mr Lenville drew from hiscoat pocket a greasy and crumpled manuscript, and, having madeanother pass at his friend, proceeded to walk to and fro, conning itto himself and indulging occasionally in such appropriate action ashis imagination and the text suggested.A pretty general muster of the company had by this time taken place;for besides Mr Lenville and his friend Tommy, there were present, aslim young gentleman with weak eyes, who played the low-spiritedlovers and sang tenor songs, and who had come arm-in-arm with thecomic countryman--a man with a turned-up nose, large mouth, broadface, and staring eyes. Making himself very amiable to the infantphenomenon, was an inebriated elderly gentleman in the last depthsof shabbiness, who played the calm and virtuous old men; and payingespecial court to Mrs Crummles was another elderly gentleman, ashade more respectable, who played the irascible old men--thosefunny fellows who have nephews in the army and perpetually run aboutwith thick sticks to compel them to marry heiresses. Besides these,there was a roving-looking person in a rough great-coat, who strodeup and down in front of the lamps, flourishing a dress cane, andrattling away, in an undertone, with great vivacity for theamusement of an ideal audience. He was not quite so young as he hadbeen, and his figure was rather running to seed; but there was anair of exaggerated gentility about him, which bespoke the hero ofswaggering comedy. There was, also, a little group of three or fouryoung men with lantern jaws and thick eyebrows, who were conversingin one corner; but they seemed to be of secondary importance, andlaughed and talked together without attracting any attention.The ladies were gathered in a little knot by themselves round therickety table before mentioned. There was Miss Snevellicci--whocould do anything, from a medley dance to Lady Macbeth, and alsoalways played some part in blue silk knee-smalls at her benefit--glancing, from the depths of her coal-scuttle straw bonnet, atNicholas, and affecting to be absorbed in the recital of a divertingstory to her friend Miss Ledrook, who had brought her work, and wasmaking up a ruff in the most natural manner possible. There wasMiss Belvawney--who seldom aspired to speaking parts, and usuallywent on as a page in white silk hose, to stand with one leg bent,and contemplate the audience, or to go in and out after Mr Crummlesin stately tragedy--twisting up the ringlets of the beautiful MissBravassa, who had once had her likeness taken 'in character' by anengraver's apprentice, whereof impressions were hung up for sale inthe pastry-cook's window, and the greengrocer's, and at thecirculating library, and the box-office, whenever the announce billscame out for her annual night. There was Mrs Lenville, in a verylimp bonnet and veil, decidedly in that way in which she would wishto be if she truly loved Mr Lenville; there was Miss Gazingi, withan imitation ermine boa tied in a loose knot round her neck,flogging Mr Crummles, junior, with both ends, in fun. Lastly, therewas Mrs Grudden in a brown cloth pelisse and a beaver bonnet, whoassisted Mrs Crummles in her domestic affairs, and took money at thedoors, and dressed the ladies, and swept the house, and held theprompt book when everybody else was on for the last scene, and actedany kind of part on any emergency without ever learning it, and wasput down in the bills under my name or names whatever, that occurredto Mr Crummles as looking well in print.Mr Folair having obligingly confided these particulars to Nicholas,left him to mingle with his fellows; the work of personalintroduction was completed by Mr Vincent Crummles, who publiclyheralded the new actor as a prodigy of genius and learning.'I beg your pardon,' said Miss Snevellicci, sidling towardsNicholas, 'but did you ever play at Canterbury?''I never did,' replied Nicholas.'I recollect meeting a gentleman at Canterbury,' said MissSnevellicci, 'only for a few moments, for I was leaving the companyas he joined it, so like you that I felt almost certain it was thesame.''I see you now for the first time,' rejoined Nicholas with all duegallantry. 'I am sure I never saw you before; I couldn't haveforgotten it.''Oh, I'm sure--it's very flattering of you to say so,' retorted MissSnevellicci with a graceful bend. 'Now I look at you again, I seethat the gentleman at Canterbury hadn't the same eyes as you--you'llthink me very foolish for taking notice of such things, won't you?''Not at all,' said Nicholas. 'How can I feel otherwise thanflattered by your notice in any way?''Oh! you men are such vain creatures!' cried Miss Snevellicci.Whereupon, she became charmingly confused, and, pulling out herpocket-handkerchief from a faded pink silk reticule with a giltclasp, called to Miss Ledrook--'Led, my dear,' said Miss Snevellicci.'Well, what is the matter?' said Miss Ledrook.'It's not the same.''Not the same what?''Canterbury--you know what I mean. Come here! I want to speak toyou.'But Miss Ledrook wouldn't come to Miss Snevellicci, so MissSnevellicci was obliged to go to Miss Ledrook, which she did, in askipping manner that was quite fascinating; and Miss Ledrookevidently joked Miss Snevellicci about being struck with Nicholas;for, after some playful whispering, Miss Snevellicci hit MissLedrook very hard on the backs of her hands, and retired up, in astate of pleasing confusion.'Ladies and gentlemen,' said Mr Vincent Crummles, who had beenwriting on a piece of paper, 'we'll call the Mortal Struggletomorrow at ten; everybody for the procession. Intrigue, and Waysand Means, you're all up in, so we shall only want one rehearsal.Everybody at ten, if you please.''Everybody at ten,' repeated Mrs Grudden, looking about her.'On Monday morning we shall read a new piece,' said Mr Crummles;'the name's not known yet, but everybody will have a good part. MrJohnson will take care of that.''Hallo!' said Nicholas, starting. 'I--''On Monday morning,' repeated Mr Crummles, raising his voice, todrown the unfortunate Mr Johnson's remonstrance; 'that'll do, ladiesand gentlemen.'The ladies and gentlemen required no second notice to quit; and, ina few minutes, the theatre was deserted, save by the Crummlesfamily, Nicholas, and Smike.'Upon my word,' said Nicholas, taking the manager aside, 'I don'tthink I can be ready by Monday.''Pooh, pooh,' replied Mr Crummles.'But really I can't,' returned Nicholas; 'my invention is notaccustomed to these demands, or possibly I might produce--''Invention! what the devil's that got to do with it!' cried themanager hastily.'Everything, my dear sir.''Nothing, my dear sir,' retorted the manager, with evidentimpatience. 'Do you understand French?''Perfectly well.''Very good,' said the manager, opening the table drawer, and givinga roll of paper from it to Nicholas. 'There! Just turn that intoEnglish, and put your name on the title-page. Damn me,' said MrCrummles, angrily, 'if I haven't often said that I wouldn't have aman or woman in my company that wasn't master of the language, sothat they might learn it from the original, and play it in English,and save all this trouble and expense.'Nicholas smiled and pocketed the play.'What are you going to do about your lodgings?' said Mr Crummles.Nicholas could not help thinking that, for the first week, it wouldbe an uncommon convenience to have a turn-up bedstead in the pit,but he merely remarked that he had not turned his thoughts that way.'Come home with me then,' said Mr Crummles, 'and my boys shall gowith you after dinner, and show you the most likely place.'The offer was not to be refused; Nicholas and Mr Crummles gave MrsCrummles an arm each, and walked up the street in stately array.Smike, the boys, and the phenomenon, went home by a shorter cut, andMrs Grudden remained behind to take some cold Irish stew and a pintof porter in the box-office.Mrs Crummles trod the pavement as if she were going to immediateexecution with an animating consciousness of innocence, and thatheroic fortitude which virtue alone inspires. Mr Crummles, on theother hand, assumed the look and gait of a hardened despot; but theyboth attracted some notice from many of the passers-by, and whenthey heard a whisper of 'Mr and Mrs Crummles!' or saw a little boyrun back to stare them in the face, the severe expression of theircountenances relaxed, for they felt it was popularity.Mr Crummles lived in St Thomas's Street, at the house of one Bulph,a pilot, who sported a boat-green door, with window-frames of thesame colour, and had the little finger of a drowned man on hisparlour mantelshelf, with other maritime and natural curiosities.He displayed also a brass knocker, a brass plate, and a brass bell-handle, all very bright and shining; and had a mast, with a vane onthe top of it, in his back yard.'You are welcome,' said Mrs Crummles, turning round to Nicholas whenthey reached the bow-windowed front room on the first floor.Nicholas bowed his acknowledgments, and was unfeignedly glad to seethe cloth laid.'We have but a shoulder of mutton with onion sauce,' said MrsCrummles, in the same charnel-house voice; 'but such as our dinneris, we beg you to partake of it.''You are very good,' replied Nicholas, 'I shall do it amplejustice.''Vincent,' said Mrs Crummles, 'what is the hour?''Five minutes past dinner-time,' said Mr Crummles.Mrs Crummles rang the bell. 'Let the mutton and onion sauceappear.'The slave who attended upon Mr Bulph's lodgers, disappeared, andafter a short interval reappeared with the festive banquet.Nicholas and the infant phenomenon opposed each other at thepembroke-table, and Smike and the master Crummleses dined on thesofa bedstead.'Are they very theatrical people here?' asked Nicholas.'No,' replied Mr Crummles, shaking his head, 'far from it--far fromit.''I pity them,' observed Mrs Crummles.'So do I,' said Nicholas; 'if they have no relish for theatricalentertainments, properly conducted.''Then they have none, sir,' rejoined Mr Crummles. 'To the infant'sbenefit, last year, on which occasion she repeated three of her mostpopular characters, and also appeared in the Fairy Porcupine, asoriginally performed by her, there was a house of no more than fourpound twelve.''Is it possible?' cried Nicholas.'And two pound of that was trust, pa,' said the phenomenon.'And two pound of that was trust,' repeated Mr Crummles. 'MrsCrummles herself has played to mere handfuls.''But they are always a taking audience, Vincent,' said the manager'swife.'Most audiences are, when they have good acting--real good acting--the regular thing,' replied Mr Crummles, forcibly.'Do you give lessons, ma'am?' inquired Nicholas.'I do,' said Mrs Crummles.'There is no teaching here, I suppose?''There has been,' said Mrs Crummles. 'I have received pupils here.I imparted tuition to the daughter of a dealer in ships' provision;but it afterwards appeared that she was insane when she first cameto me. It was very extraordinary that she should come, under suchcircumstances.'Not feeling quite so sure of that, Nicholas thought it best to holdhis peace.'Let me see,' said the manager cogitating after dinner. 'Would youlike some nice little part with the infant?''You are very good,' replied Nicholas hastily; 'but I think perhapsit would be better if I had somebody of my own size at first, incase I should turn out awkward. I should feel more at home,perhaps.''True,' said the manager. 'Perhaps you would. And you could playup to the infant, in time, you know.''Certainly,' replied Nicholas: devoutly hoping that it would be avery long time before he was honoured with this distinction.'Then I'll tell you what we'll do,' said Mr Crummles. 'You shallstudy Romeo when you've done that piece--don't forget to throw thepump and tubs in by-the-bye--Juliet Miss Snevellicci, old Gruddenthe nurse.--Yes, that'll do very well. Rover too;--you might get upRover while you were about it, and Cassio, and Jeremy Diddler. Youcan easily knock them off; one part helps the other so much. Herethey are, cues and all.'With these hasty general directions Mr Crummles thrust a number oflittle books into the faltering hands of Nicholas, and bidding hiseldest son go with him and show where lodgings were to be had, shookhim by the hand, and wished him good night.There is no lack of comfortable furnished apartments in Portsmouth,and no difficulty in finding some that are proportionate to veryslender finances; but the former were too good, and the latter toobad, and they went into so many houses, and came out unsuited, thatNicholas seriously began to think he should be obliged to askpermission to spend the night in the theatre, after all.Eventually, however, they stumbled upon two small rooms up threepair of stairs, or rather two pair and a ladder, at a tobacconist'sshop, on the Common Hard: a dirty street leading down to thedockyard. These Nicholas engaged, only too happy to have escapedany request for payment of a week's rent beforehand.'There! Lay down our personal property, Smike,' he said, aftershowing young Crummles downstairs. 'We have fallen upon strangetimes, and Heaven only knows the end of them; but I am tired withthe events of these three days, and will postpone reflection tilltomorrow--if I can.'