‘Oh, Nep, Nep,’ cried Mary, ‘what have you done?’
In a moment out of the window jumped Neptune, and began to scramble through the crowd in search of me, barking away as loudly as he could. The disturbance and confusion increased; but who shall describe my dismay when I saw Nep, in his haste, seize upon the child of Mr. Punch and carry it back in his mouth to the coach instead of me; while at the same moment a tall man, picking me up, handed me into Punch’s show, saying, ‘Here, take your child, Mr. Punch!’
CHAPTER XIII
THE CITY
How long it was before the performance concluded I do not know, as I was in so distressed and confused a state of mind. All I can remember is that I was thrown headlong into a small box, among a number of dirty old wooden dolls dressed in rags and bits of cloth of all colors. Here I lay a few minutes, till a shrill, squeaking voice, that came through somebody’s nose, cried out ‘Hurray!’ and then down tumbled Mr. Punch himself into the box, right across me, and the lid of the box was instantly shut down and there we all lay squeezed together in the dark.
I soon began to feel wretchedly uncomfortable—it was so close and hot, and I also had a very bad headache, owing to something that pressed hard upon my head. When the box was next opened I found it was Mr. Punch’s high-crowned wooden hat that had hurt me, in consequence of one of its hard corners pressing against the back of my head.
The master of the show now began to take some of us out for a morning’s performance, and to arrange the dolls upon a board in the order in which he should want them to make their appearance. ‘Now,’ said he, ‘I want the infant’ (meaning Punch’s child), ‘I want the infant—where is Punch’s young one?’ Then taking me up—‘Ah, what is this?’ said he, ‘How did this creature come here? Why somehow, she has got here in the place of the infant. She must have popped in by mistake, during the noise in the street with that great barking dog. Well, she’s too big for me, and she’s much too good to throw away, so I had better sell her.’
He had scarcely uttered these words when the sound of ‘Clo’! clo’! clo’!’ met our ears, and the master of the show immediately issued from underneath his curtain, with me in his hand, and beckoned the Jew clothesman to come to him. He proposed to sell me; and, after half an hour’s bargaining, during which so many words were exchanged that my patience was quite worn out, and I did not care what became of me, the Jew carried me away in his bag. I felt myself quite as disagreeably situated as when squeezed among the family of Mr. Punch, for my companions in the bag appeared to be two old waistcoats, with hard metal buttons pressing against my left cheek, an old hat, three pairs of old shoes, seven pairs of slippers, a humming-top, a teetotum, a snuffer-tray, a coat that seemed greasy, a tin pot, some old gold lace, a bundle of rags, seven bones, two rabbit skins, a stuffed parrot, the head of a rocking horse, a tin box and canister, a cow’s horn, a pound of yellow soap, a woollen night-cap, five pairs of worsted stockings, a parcel of tobacco, and half a roast goose. I was sadly afraid that the brass buttons and the edges of the tin box and canister, the snuffer-tray, or the head of the rocking horse, or the beak of the stuffed parrot, would destroy the beautiful complexion Mr. Johnson had given me, when fortunately the very same idea occurred to the cautious mind of the wise old Jew, who suddenly put his hand into the bag, and thrusting my head and shoulders into a worsted stocking, he rolled the rest of me tightly in the coat, and then crammed me into the old hat, with my legs upwards. One of my hands, however, happened accidentally to be left free; and in cramming me into the hat, which fitted very tight, this hand went through a split in the edge of the crown. I should not have thought much of this circumstance, but that I presently discovered the hat to have a strong scent of otto of rose, and then I suddenly recollected that this must be the very hat into which I had fallen at the opera. My first acquaintance with the hat having been in the most fashionable place in London, this was a strange place of meeting for both of us.
In the evening, when the Jew arrived at his lodgings, and had eaten his supper of fried soles and German sausage, with a bunch of white turnip radishes, he emptied the whole contents of his bag out on the floor, and bent over us from his chair, for some minutes, with a face of great satisfaction. He had collected all this bag-full in one day. ‘Yes,’ said he, taking me up from all the rest, ‘yes, this is the best part of my day’s work.’ I was beginning to feel pleased at this compliment, when the Jew added, ‘This is a beautiful wooden doll, but her gold bracelet is the thing for me!’ So I saw it was not I, but my gold bracelet that pleased his fancy.
He took me to a little table; and there, with a pair of pincers, he took off my bracelet; and, in its place, he fastened a stupid piece of tin, upon which, with the point of a broken fork, he scratched, ‘Maria Poppet.’ I could have cried bitterly at the change, but I was able to restrain myself.