Well, in one of her rambles after bargains, the old thing had stumbled upon a little poking hole of an out-of-the-way chemist’s shop, with a bill in the window, announcing that they (pretty they!) were now selling their best Epsom salts at the low price of seven pounds a shilling; and as my lady was in the habit of paying twopence and threepence for every pound weight of the stuff she swallowed, why this was a temptation that she could not resist; so she must needs go prancing into the shop, saying she would take one pound just to try.
The old thing came home to dinner, quite full of her bargain, and she would undo the parcel, and show us what a beautiful quality the stuff was; declaring, that if it only turned out as good as she expected, she would buy all there was in the place, for they were so cheap, she said, that she felt perfectly satisfied they must have been stolen,—and promising herself a couple of ounces of it, by way of a nice treat in the morning.
At breakfast, the next day, she told us that it seemed as if some superior power had led her to buy her salts yesterday; for she had just heard from Susan that the small-pox had already reached the next door but one, and she had no doubt that it would be our turn next. Then she went on so dreadfully about it, and we all got so terribly alarmed, that we were ready to do anything—for she kept dinning in our ears, that vaccination was only good for seven years, and that the only chance we had of escaping it, and preventing our faces being pitted all over like a honeycomb, was to sweeten our blood with a little cooling medicine, and that really a spoonful or two of her salts all round was just the very thing we wanted. Edward too seemed to take a delight in aggravating the horrors of the disease, and exaggerating the virtues of the remedy which Mrs. Yapp had prescribed for us, and kept on until at last we did as she wished, and swallowed a couple of spoonfuls each. After which I had Miss Susan up, and made her take some, as well, for I had no idea of having her laid up in the house, and paying, goodness knows what amount, in doctor’s bills for her. But she was too much afraid of her complexion and beauty being spoiled to require much persuasion.
Edward had gone to chambers when dear mother, who was reading the advertisements in the Times, gave a loud scream, and cried out, “We are all poisoned!” And sure enough she showed me an advertisement at the top of the second column in the first page, headed Caution, and running as follows:—
“THE stout, elderly Lady, with tortoiseshell spectacles, and dressed in a black straw bonnet, trimmed with canary ribbon, with a small squirrel tippet, and a black German velvet gown, is earnestly requested not to take any of the pound of Salts she bought at the Chemist’s in M—nm—th Str—t, S—v—n D—ls, and said she would have more if she liked them, as through the mistake of an inexperienced apprentice, she was served with Oxalic Acid instead.”
No one can imagine the dreadful state this threw us all into, and it was as much as I could do to prevent mother from flying at Mrs. Yapp and tearing her to pieces, limb by limb, on the spot; only I said that she had much better turn her thoughts to some antidote, and leave the wretched old woman to her own dreadful feelings. Whereupon, dear mother merely called her a murderess some half-dozen times, and gave her to understand, that even if she was lucky enough, to get over it, as sure as their names were Yapp and B—ff—n, she would have her hung for it. The old cat, however, told her not to talk in that foolish way—as she had done it all for the best—but to see about taking as much chalk or lime as we possibly could, as that was the only thing that could save us. And then I declare if the old thing didn’t seize hold of the fire shovel with one hand, and a plate off the breakfast table with the other, and jumping up on a chair, began scraping away at my beautiful ceiling, whilst I ran down-stairs, and, telling Susan what had happened, and what Mrs. Yapp had prescribed as an antidote, we both of us made a rush at the plaster of Paris images that the girl had stuck up over the mantelpiece; and whilst she was devouring her beautiful painted parrot, I eat Napoleon Bonaparte all but his boots.
Dear mother, who wouldn’t believe in anything that Mrs. Yapp said, declared that nothing would do her good but candles, and the poor dear soul had got through a whole rushlight and the better part of a long six, by the time that Mrs. Toosypegs (whom I had packed off in a cab to our doctor, and the chemist who had sold Mrs. Yapp the poison, and for Edward) got back to us again, bringing the chemist himself with her, and who said he was happy to inform us that it was all a mistake, and that the packet of oxalic acid, which they had fancied the young man had served the lady in tortoiseshell spectacles with, had been found, and that we had taken nothing but the very best Epsom salts after all.
Edward came rushing in shortly afterwards; and when he heard that it had only been a false alarm, I declare if he didn’t fall down on the sofa, and nearly split his sides; which made us all so wild, that I really felt as if I could have boxed the ears of the unfeeling monster; and I know for a positive fact that dear mother’s hands were itching to do it as well. As it was, the good old soul rated him soundly; for not being able to contain herself, she flew out at him, and told him that he ought to be ashamed of himself to lie there, as he was, chuckling over the distresses of the very woman whom he had sworn to love and cherish in sickness as well as in health—to say nothing of herself, who was my mother—and that at a time, too, when he ought to go down on his bended knees, and thank his stars for our miraculous escape. But Edward only grinned the more, and kept telling her that it was as good fun as the Derby-day, and that he had never known such capital sport after the Epsom Cup before.
This was too much for my beloved parent; and she didn’t hesitate to tell him that she wouldn’t stop in the house another minute; and, after his inhuman, and, she might say, ungentlemanly conduct, would never set foot in it again so long as she lived. And accordingly, out of the room she bounced, and up-stairs she went, and having packed up her things, off she took herself.
Directly Edward found how well he had got rid of dear mother, he began to see what he could do with Mrs. Yapp. But though he said all kinds of sharp, cutting things to her, still it was no good, for she hadn’t got mother’s fine spirit, and really seemed to be as hard to get out of the house as black beetles are. However, at one time, he did make her say, that directly she learnt that her house in the country was fit to receive her, and the smell of the paint was fairly out of it, she would not trouble us any more with her company.