I wasn’t long before I had the whole of Mr. Duffy’s small private cellar safe in my work basket, and, in less than two minutes, fast in one of the cupboards of the sideboard. As it was lunch time I determined to try “a draught to be taken in the morning” myself; for, to tell the truth I felt rather faint, and thought a glass of port couldn’t hurt me. But didn’t it though; for no sooner did I put it in my mouth than—ah, faugh!—oh! lud a mercy me! I never tasted such filth. If the dirty, fat, lazy pig, hadn’t been pouring the wine into a black dose bottle, without ever taking the trouble to wash it out first! “Oh, I wish to goodness gracious!” I cried, putting my hand to my stomach—for I felt far from myself—“I could only afford to give that dishonest mammoth of a Duffy notice to quit; and so I would this very moment, if it wasn’t for that beautiful livery which ought to have another six months’ wear in it at least!”
About this time, too, it seemed as if Fate—bother take her!—thought that that Duffy wasn’t enough to fill my cup, so she must needs go throwing that Wittals in, to make it run over. For, as luck would have it, one evening, home comes Mr. Skn—n—st—n with the joyful news, that the young ogre—missing the larder, no doubt—had grown tired of the few pleasantries connected with the legal profession, and had had the impudence to demand that he should be taken back again into my service—telling Edward to his face, that he’d learnt law enough in his office to know I had bound myself to keep him for these two years to come. Well, thought I, my fine gentleman, I could have told you as much; but, of course, I wasn’t going to do so.
The next day, who should march into the house but the young imp himself, without so much as even a single button left on his beautiful jacket; and when I asked him what he had done with them, he told me quite coolly that he’d been gambling at dumps, and having staked his all, had lost the whole of my beautiful plated sugar-loafs at one unlucky throw! This put me in such a horrid pet, that I raised my hand to give the young monkey a box on the ears, which he should remember to his dying day, when, bless us and save us! if the whiskerless Turk didn’t throw himself into one of the boldest attitudes of “the noble art” of self-defence, and spitting in the palm of one of his hands—a dirty young imp!—began dancing about, too, and bobbing his head, and sparring away at me, saying, “Come on old un! I should like to see you do it.” “Oh, you wicked young coward,” I cried; “what, would you strike a poor woman—augh!” “Wouldn’t I though,” upon my word the monkey answered, “if she goes hitting on me fust.” I told him to take himself down stairs as quick as ever he could, and when Mr. Sk—n—st—n came home, we’d see if he would strike him.
Bother take the boy, there was no keeping him quiet anyhow! Now, for instance, I was obliged to go to the expense of having his livery done up, for, of course, I couldn’t see the urchin going about the disreputable figure he was. Well, a day or two after I had got him to look something like decent, I wanted to go and see dear mother, merely to ask the good old soul, whether—as the heat was so oppressive—she had got a good receipt for making ginger beer, and any old stone bottles she could spare me. As I was only going that short distance, I thought there would be no use in taking Duffy away from his work—especially as I didn’t see the necessity of letting him know who and what my friends were, or of pointing out to the fat stuck-up pig that the merchant I had made out my respected father to be was merely a coal ditto, and the vessels which I had spoken so often of before him at meals, were merely two barges filled with the very finest knubbly “Lord Mayors.” And as for taking that young Wittals to walk behind me as a protector, bless you! it was worse than useless. Besides, the young monkey had got a tongue as long as my arm, and I should have those filthy, shameful, wicked, false reports, flying all about the neighbourhood again, with their precious “Mrs. Sk—n—st—n’s friends is only heavers.” Heavers! pretty heavers, indeed!
Well, as I was saying, off I trotted to dear mother’s, but as my luck would have it, she couldn’t lay her hands on the receipt I wanted, anywhere. However, as Mrs. Lockley had given it to her, the good old soul had no doubt she would do as much for me. So I thought to myself, the best thing I can do is to go on and see that sweet woman. Mother, with her usual kindness, wanted me to stay dinner; but I begged of her not to ask me to stop that day, as I had got a beautiful hot fillet of veal for dinner, (which I am very partial to,) but if she liked I would come on the morrow when it was cold, (which I do not like at all). Whereupon mother said as it was her washing day, I must take pot luck if I came; but knowing what that stood for at home, I suddenly remembered a pressing engagement I had, which, I regretted, would deprive me of the pleasure.
I thought I should never have got to that sweet woman, Mrs. Lockley’s; for really the weather did seem to me so oppressive, that, upon my word, I felt ready to drop; and if it hadn’t been for the look of the thing, I do believe I should have sat down to rest myself on one of the door-steps. I was so hungry, too, with my long walk, that I certainly should have gone into some pastry-cook’s on my way, and destroyed my stomach with a lot of trash out of the housekeeping, if I hadn’t known that it was close upon that sweet woman Mrs. Lockley’s hour for luncheon.
When I got to Mrs. Lockley’s, of course, with my usual luck, she had only got one or two filthy baked apples and a little cold bullock’s heart (which, though I’d go miles for when smoking hot with veal stuffing, plenty of currant jelly, and a plate as warm as warm can be, yet I can’t even bear to look at it when it’s cold). So, as I didn’t relish this fare very much, I told Mrs. Lockley, when she apologised for the lunch, and asked me if I’d do as she did, that nothing on earth would give me greater pleasure, as, strange to say, they were two of my most favourite dishes; but, I added, I’m frightened to touch either, my love—for, to tell the truth, I’ve a nasty cold upon me; and, as I know I can be frank with you, my dear, if you should happen to have such a thing as an oyster or two handy, I think it would do me good. When, actually, the sweet woman, like a stupid, would send out for some expressly for me, though I begged and prayed of the kind soul not to put herself to all that trouble on my account—taking good care, however, not to overdo it this time; for I thought it was the least she could do for me after leaving me to pay the whole of that cab, in the disgraceful way she had. As Lockley was out of town, and as I remembered she hadn’t seen our footman, and, besides, as I had got a love of a fillet of veal, why, I thought I couldn’t do less after all her kindness than ask that sweet woman, Mrs. Lockley, to come and take a plain family dinner with us that day; which she said she would. Presently, off we started, and walked along chatting so comfortably, no one can tell.
Just as we had got near home, and I was thinking how nice and envious that sweet woman, Mrs. Lockley, would be, when she found poor us living in such superior style to herself, and that we kept two male servants instead of her little poking twopenny-half-penny one—lo, and behold! all of a sudden, I saw a large crowd of little dirty boys collected in a ring across the road, right opposite our house. By the noise of the drums, I knew it was a sight, and I hurried along as fast as ever I could, for I do like to see them. As we approached, I heard the voice of one of those stupid street conjurors crying out as loud as he could, that as soon as there was ninepence in the ring, he would cut off some poor young gentleman’s head. So I told that sweet woman, Mrs. Lockley, to come along for heaven’s sake, or we shouldn’t be in time; and on we toddled together as fast as my legs would carry me. On looking up at our house, I declare if there wasn’t that stupid, stupid cook, and that lazy minx of a housemaid lolling out of one of the windows of my bedroom, and that John Duffy out of the other. I merely shook my parasol at them then, and went as near as I could to see the stupid nonsense. When I caught sight of the boy in the ring, who had come forward to allow himself to be beheaded, positively if it wasn’t that abominable, wicked, incorrigible young imp of a Wittals of mine, who, having seen the trick done some hundred of times before, and knowing very well that the ninepence never yet had been made up, was delighted at being a party to the stupid imposition, which, I dare say, he thought a capital joke. No sooner did I set eyes upon him, out there in the middle of the dusty road, in my beautiful claret and silver (only just newly renovated too), with his best hat down on the ground, and all the neighbours at the windows, laughing away at the gratifying idea of the Sk—n—st—n’s grand page making such a scamp of himself—no sooner, I repeat, did I set eyes upon the disreputable young rip, than at him I rushed, right through the little boys. But directly he caught sight of me, on went his hat, with all the coppers that had been collected in it, a-top of his head, and off he scampered, and I after him, parasol in hand, as hard as I could go, while after me came all the little dirty boys, hurraying and hooting, and hollowing out “Go it, missus,”—“Go it, tiger,” until—finding I couldn’t catch that Wittals—I turned round, and began laying my parasol about the noisy and impudent young vagabonds at my heels. And then, oh, la! the nasty young dogs! what must they do but begin pelting me with mud and all kinds of filth, right over my beautiful lace bonnet and love of a poplin dress—salmon shot snuff,—and kept on at it, even on my own door step, whilst I was jerking away at the bell and hammering away at the knocker, trying to get that big fat elephant of a Duffy to saunter up to the door before I was one positive cake of mud from head to foot—for, drat those boys! the more I ran after them, the more they pelted me.
When I went to the parlour window, to shake my fist at the young urchins, who wouldn’t go away from the house, but kept on hooting outside as hard as they could, who should I see on the other side of the way, laughing fit to burst all her hooks and eyes, but that vulgar woman, Mrs. Lockley, drat her! whom I, like a great big silly, had brought up to see the superior style in which we lived. Well, there always was something about the creature I didn’t exactly like!
When I told dear, dear Edward of all that happened, and how that Wittals had been going on the very day after I had consented to receive him back to my service, he very justly said, that he wasn’t at all surprised at anything that young vagabond did, for he was impudent as a London sparrow, and he had been quite sickened of him by his tricks at his office; in fact, he knew there was no getting the good-for-nothing scapegrace to do a thing. For instance, if he wanted a simple letter copied, and called out to him, “Wittals, what have you got in hand just now?” the scamp would be sure to answer, “An apple, please sir,” or something just as aggravating. So Edward advised me, that the best thing I could do was to go down to the workhouse, and try and get them to take the boy back, which he was sure they would for a few pounds, if the case was properly represented to them. But I pretty soon told my gentleman that I was sure they would do no such thing (and if they would, I wouldn’t). For, to tell the truth, now that I had got two male servants in the house, I