Glad to see me! the old gentleman muttered, querulously. Of course, glad to see a customer! Why do you tell me that? Talk! tattle! might as well have a woman to waitjust!
He wiped his forehead largely with his handkerchief; as one whom Calamity hunted a little too hard in summer weather.
No tumbling-room for the wine, too!
That was his next grievance. He changed the pint of Madeira from his left side to his right, and went under his handkerchief again, feverishly. The world was severe with this old gentleman.
Ah! clock wrong now!
He leaned back like a man who can no longer carry his burdens, informing Jonathan, on his coming up to place the roll of bread and firm butter, that he was forty seconds too fast, as if it were a capital offence, and he deserved to step into Eternity for outstripping Time.
But, I daresay, you dont understand the importance of a minute, said the old gentleman, bitterly. Not you, or any of you. Better if we had run a little ahead of your minute, perhapsand the rest of you! Do you think you can cancel the mischief thats done in the world in that minute, sir, by hurrying ahead like that? Tell me!
Rather at a loss, Jonathan scanned the clock seriously, and observed that it was not quite a minute too fast.
The old gentleman pulled out his watch. He grunted that a lying clock was hateful to him; subsequently sinking into contemplation of his thumbs,a sign known to Jonathan as indicative of the old gentlemans system having resolved, in spite of external outrages, to be fortified with calm to meet the repast.
It is not fair to go behind an eccentric; but the fact was, this old gentleman was slightly ashamed of his months vagrancy and cruel conduct, and cloaked his behaviour toward the Aurora, in all the charges he could muster against it. He was very human, albeit an odd form of the race.
Happily for his digestion of Thursday, the cook, warned by Jonathan, kept the old gentlemans time, not the Auroras: and the dinner was correct; the dinner was eaten in peace; he began to address his plate vigorously, poured out his Madeira, and chuckled, as the familiar ideas engendered by good wine were revived in him. Jonathan reported at the bar that the old gentleman was all right again.
One would like here to pause, while our worthy ancient feeds, and indulge in a short essay on Habit, to show what a sacred and admirable thing it is that makes flimsy Time substantial, and consolidates his triple life. It is proof that we have come to the end of dreams and Times delusions, and are determined to sit down at Lifes feast and carve for ourselves. Its day is the child of yesterday, and has a claim on to-morrow. Whereas those who have no such plan of existence and sum of their wisdom to show, the winds blow them as they list. Consider, then, mercifully the wrath of him on whom carelessness or forgetfulness has brought a snap in the links of Habit. You incline to scorn him because, his slippers misplaced, or asparagus not on his table the first day of a particular Spring month, he gazes blankly and sighs as one who saw the End. To you it may appear small. You call to him to be a man. He is: but he is also an immortal, and his confidence in unceasing orderly progression is rudely dashed.
But the old gentleman has finished his dinner and his Madeira, and says: Now, Jonathan, thock the Port!his joke when matters have gone well: meant to express the sound of the uncorking, probably. The habit of making good jokes is rare, as you know: old gentlemen have not yet attained to it: nevertheless Jonathan enjoys this one, which has seen a generation in and out, for he knows its purport to be, My heart is open.
And now is a great time with this old gentleman. He sips, and in his eyes the world grows rosy, and he exchanges mute or monosyllable salutes here and there. His habit is to avoid converse; but he will let a light remark season meditation.
He says to Jonathan: The bill for the month.
Yes, sir, Jonathan replies. Would you not prefer, sir, to have the items added on to the month ensuing?
I asked you for the bill of the month, said the old gentleman, with an irritated voice and a twinkle in his eye.
Jonathan bowed; but his aspect betrayed perplexity, and that perplexity was soon shared by the landlady for Jonathan said, he was convinced the old gentleman intended to pay for sixteen days, and the landlady could not bring her hand to charge him for more than two. Here was the dilemma foreseen by the old gentleman, and it added vastly to the flavour of the Port.
Pleasantly tickled, he sat gazing at his glass, and let the minutes fly. He knew the part he would act in his little farce. If charged for the whole month, he would peruse the bill deliberately, and perhaps cry out Hulloa? and then snap at Jonathan for the interposition of a remark. But if charged for two days, he would wish to be told whether they were demented, those people outside, and scornfully return the bill to Jonathan.
A slap on the shoulder, and a voice: Found you at last, Tom! violently shattered the excellent plot, and made the old gentleman start. He beheld Mr. Andrew Cogglesby.
Drinking Port, Tom? said Mr. Andrew. I ll join you: and he sat down opposite to him, rubbing his hands and pushing back his hair.
Jonathan entering briskly with the bill, fell back a step, in alarm. The old gentleman, whose inviolacy was thus rudely assailed, sat staring at the intruder, his mouth compressed, and three fingers round his glass, which it was doubtful whether he was not going to hurl at him.
Waiter! Mr. Andrew carelessly hailed, a pint of this Port, if you please.
Jonathan sought the countenance of the old gentleman.
Do you hear, sir? cried the latter, turning his wrath on him. Another pint! He added: Take back the bill; and away went Jonathan to relate fresh marvels to his mistress.
Mr. Andrew then addressed the old gentleman in the most audacious manner.
Astonished to see me here, Tom? Dare say you are. I knew you came somewhere in this neighbourhood, and, as I wanted to speak to you very particularly, and you wouldnt be visible till Monday, why, I spied into two or three places, and here I am.
You might see they were brothers. They had the same bushy eyebrows, the same healthy colour in their cheeks, the same thick shoulders, and brisk way of speaking, and clear, sharp, though kindly, eyes; only Tom was cast in larger proportions than Andrew, and had gotten the grey furniture of Time for his natural wear. Perhaps, too, a cross in early life had a little twisted him, and set his mouth in a rueful bunch, out of which occasionally came biting things. Mr. Andrew carried his head up, and eyed every man living with the benevolence of a patriarch, dashed with the impudence of a London sparrow. Tom had a nagging air, and a trifle of acridity on his broad features. Still, any one at a glance could have sworn they were brothers, and Jonathan unhesitatingly proclaimed it at the Aurora bar.
Mr. Andrews hands were working together, and at them, and at his face, the old gentleman continued to look with a firmly interrogating air.
Want to know what brings me, Tom? Ill tell you presently. Hot,isnt it?
What the deuce are you taking exercise for? the old gentleman burst out, and having unlocked his mouth, he began to puff and alter his posture.
There you are, thawed in a minute! said Mr. Andrew. Whats an eccentric? a child grown grey. It isnt mine; I read it somewhere. Ah, heres the Port! good, Ill warrant.
Jonathan deferentially uncorked, excessive composure on his visage. He arranged the table-cloth to a nicety, fixed the bottle with exactness, and was only sent scudding by the old gentlemans muttering of: Eavesdropping pie! followed by a short, Go! and even then he must delay to sweep off a particular crumb.
Jonathan deferentially uncorked, excessive composure on his visage. He arranged the table-cloth to a nicety, fixed the bottle with exactness, and was only sent scudding by the old gentlemans muttering of: Eavesdropping pie! followed by a short, Go! and even then he must delay to sweep off a particular crumb.
Good it is! said Mr. Andrew, rolling the flavour on his lips, as he put down his glass. I follow you in Port, Tom. Elder brother!
The old gentleman also drank, and was mollified enough to reply: Shant follow you in Parliament.
Havent forgiven that yet, Tom?
No great harm done when youre silent.
Capital Port! said Mr. Andrew, replenishing the glasses. I ought to have inquired where they kept the best Port. I might have known youd stick by it. By the way, talking of Parliament, theres talk of a new election for Fallow field. You have a vote there. Will you give it to Jocelyn? Theres talk of his standing.
If hell wear petticoats, Ill give him my vote.
There you go, Tom!
I hate masquerades. Youre penny trumpets of the women. That tattle comes from the bed-curtains. When a petticoat steps forward I give it my vote, or else I button it up in my pocket.
This was probably one of the longest speeches he had ever delivered at the Aurora. There was extra Port in it. Jonathan, who from his place of observation noted the length of time it occupied, though he was unable to gather the context, glanced at Mr. Andrew with a sly satisfaction. Mr. Andrew, laughing, signalled for another pint.
So youve come here for my vote, have you? said Mr. Tom.
Why, no; not exactly that, Mr. Andrew answered, blinking and passing it by.
Jonathan brought the fresh pint, and Tom filled for himself, drank, and said emphatically, and with a confounding voice:
Your women have been setting you on me, sir!
Andrew protested that he was entirely mistaken.
Youre the puppet of your women!
Well, Tom, not in this instance. Heres to the bachelors, and brother Tom at their head!
It seemed to be Andrews object to help his companion to carry a certain quantity of Port, as if he knew a virtue it had to subdue him, and to have fixed on a particular measure that he should hold before he addressed him specially. Arrived at this, he said:
Look here, Tom. I know your ways. I shouldnt have bothered you here; I never have before; but we couldnt very well talk it over in business hours; and besides youre never at the Brewery till Monday, and the matters rather urgent.
Why dont you speak like that in Parliament? the old man interposed.
Because Parliament isnt my brother, replied Mr. Andrew. You know, Tom, you never quite took to my wifes family.
Im not a match for fine ladies, Nan.
Well, Harriet would have taken to you, Tom, and will now, if you ll let her. Of course, it s a pity if she s ashamed ofhem! You found it out about the Lymport people, Tom, and, youve kept the secret and respected her feelings, and I thank you for it. Women are odd in those things, you know. She mustnt imagine I ve heard a whisper. I believe it would kill her.
The old gentleman shook silently.
Do you want me to travel over the kingdom, hawking her for the daughter of a marquis?
Now, dont joke, Tom. Im serious. Are you not a Radical at heart? Why do you make such a set against the poor women? What do we spring from?
I take off my hat, Nan, when I see a cobblers stall.
And I, Tom, dont care a rush who knows it. Homosomething; but we never had much schooling. We ve thriven, and should help those we can. Weve got on in the world
Wife come back from Lymport? sneered Tom.
Andrew hurriedly, and with some confusion, explained that she had not been able to go, on account of the child.
Account of the child! his brother repeated, working his chin contemptuously. Sisters gone?
Theyre stopping with us, said Andrew, reddening.
So the tailor was left to the kites and the crows. Ah! hum! and Tom chuckled.
Youre angry with me, Tom, for coming here, said Andrew. I see what it is. Thought how it would be! Youre offended, old Tom.
Come where you like, returned Tom, the place is open. Its a fool that hopes for peace anywhere. They sent a woman here to wait on me, this day month.
Thats a shame! said Mr. Andrew, propitiatingly. Well, never mind, Tom: the women are sometimes in the way.Evan went down to bury his father. Hes there now. You wouldnt see him when he was at the Brewery, Tom. Hesupon my honour! hes a good young fellow.
A fine young gentleman, Ive no doubt, Nan.
A really good lad, Tom. No nonsense. Ive come here to speak to you about him.
Mr. Andrew drew a letter from his pocket, pursuing: Just throw aside your prejudices, and read this. Its a letter I had from him this morning. But first I must tell you how the case stands.
Know more than you can tell me, Nan, said Tom, turning over the flavour of a gulp of his wine.
Well, then, just let me repeat it. He has been capitally educated; he has always been used to good society: well, we mustnt sneer at it: good societys better than bad, youll allow. He has refined tastes: well, you wouldnt like to live among crossing-sweepers, Tom. He s clever and accomplished, can speak and write in three languages: I wish I had his abilities. He has good manners: well, Tom, you know you like them as well as anybody. And nowbut read for yourself.
Yah! went old Tom. The women have been playing the fool with him since he was a baby. I read his rigmarole? No.
Mr. Andrew shrugged his shoulders, and opened the letter, saying: Well, listen; and then he coughed, and rapidly skimmed the introductory part. Excuses himself for addressing me formallypoor boy! Circumstances have altered his position towards the world found his fathers affairs in a bad state: only chance of paying off fathers debts to undertake management of business, and bind himself to so much a year. But there, Tom, if you wont read it, you miss the poor young fellows character. He says that he has forgotten his station: fancied he was superior to trade, but hates debt; and will not allow anybody to throw dirt at his fathers name, while he can work to clear it; and will sacrifice his pride. Come, Tom, thats manly, isnt it? I call it touching, poor lad!
Manly it may have been, but the touching part of it was a feature missed in Mr. Andrews hands. At any rate, it did not appear favourably to impress Tom, whose chin had gathered its ominous puckers, as he inquired:
Whats the trade? he dont say.
Andrew added, with a wave of the hand: Out of a sort of feeling for his sistersI like him for it. Now what I want to ask you, Tom, is, whether we cant assist him in some way! Why couldnt we take him into our office, and fix him there, eh? If he works wellwere both getting old, and my brats are chickswe might, by-and-by, give him a share.
Make a brewer of him? Ha! thered be another mighty sacrifice for his pride!
Come, come, Tom, said Andrew, hes my wifes brother, and Im yours; andthere, you know what women are. They like to preserve appearances: we ought to consider them.
Preserve appearances! echoed Tom: ha! wholl do that for them better than a tailor?
Andrew was an impatient little man, fitter for a kind action than to plead a cause. Jeering jarred on him; and from the moment his brother began it, he was of small service to Evan. He flung back against the partition of the compound, rattling it to the disturbance of many a quiet digestion.