“Honoured and Loving Uncle,—Hoping you are in good health,
this serves to inform you, that Mr. Jennings is gone, and
Mr. Keypstick will never meet with his fellow. The school
is already almost broke up, and the rest daily going away;
and I beg of you of all love to have me fetched away also,
for I cannot bear to be any longer under one who is a perfect
ignoramus, who scarce knows the declination of musa, and is
more fit to be a scarecrow than a schoolmaster; hoping you
will send for me soon, with my love to my aunt, and my duty
to my honoured parents, craving their blessing and yours. And
this is all at present from, honoured uncle, your well-beloved
and dutiful nephew and godson, and humble servant to command
till death,
“Peregrine Pickle.”
Trunnion was overjoyed at the receipt of this letter, which he looked upon as one of the greatest efforts of human genius, and as such communicated the contents to his lady, whom he had disturbed for the purpose in the middle of her devotion, by sending a message to her closet, whither it was her custom very frequently to retire. She was out of humour at being interrupted, and therefore did not peruse this specimen of her nephew's understanding with all the relish that the commodore himself had enjoyed; on the contrary, after sundry paralytical endeavours to speak (for her tongue sometimes refused its office), she observed that the boy was a pert jackanapes, and deserved to be severely chastised for treating his betters with such disrespect. Her husband undertook his godson's defence, representing with great warmth that he knew Keypstick to be a good-for-nothing pimping old rascal, and that Perry showed a great deal of spirit and good sense in desiring to be taken from under his command; he therefore declared that the boy should not live a week longer with such a shambling son of a b—, and sanctioned this declaration with abundance of oaths.
Mrs. Trunnion, composing her countenance into a look of religious demureness, rebuked him for his profane way of talking; and asked, in a magisterial tone, if he intended never to lay aside that brutal behaviour. Irritated at this reproach, he answered, in terms of indignation, that he knew how to behave himself as well as e'er a woman that wore a head, bade her mind her affairs, and with another repetition of oaths gave her to understand that he would be master in his own house.
The insinuation operated upon her spirits like friction upon a glass globe: her face gleamed with resentment, and every pore seemed to emit particles of flame. She replied with incredible fluency of the bitterest expressions: he retorted equal rage in broken hints and incoherent imprecations: she rejoined with redoubled fury; and in conclusion he was fain to betake himself to flight, ejaculating curses against her; and muttering something concerning the brandy-bottle, which, however, he took care should never reach her ears.
From his own house he went directly to visit Mrs. Pickle, to whom he imparted Peregrine's epistle, with many encomiums upon the boy's promising parts: and, finding his commendations but coolly received, desired she would permit him to take his godson under his own care.
This lady, whose family was now increased by another son, who seemed to engross her care for the present, had not seen Perry during a course of four years, and, with regard to him, was perfectly weaned of that infirmity known by the name of maternal fondness: she therefore consented to the commodore's request with great condescension, and a polite compliment to him on the concern he had all along manifested for the welfare of the child.
CHAPTER XIII.
The Commodore takes Peregrine under his own care—The Boy arrives at the Garrison—Is strangely received by his own Mother—Enters into a Confederacy with Hatchway and Pipes, and executes a couple of waggish Enterprises upon his Aunt.
Trunnion having obtained this permission, that very afternoon despatched the lieutenant in a post-chaise to Keypstick's house, from whence in two days he returned with our young hero, who being now in the eleventh year of his age, had outgrown the expectation of all his family, and was remarkable for the beauty and elegance of his person. His godfather was transported at his arrival, as if he had been actually the issue of his own loins: he shook him heartily by the hand, turned him round and round, surveyed him from top to bottom, bade Hatchway take notice how handsomely he was built; and squeezed his hand again, saying,—“D— ye, you dog, I suppose you don't value such an old crazy son of a b— as me a rope's end. You have forgot how I was wont to dandle you on my knee, when you was a little urchin no bigger than a davit, and played a thousand tricks upon me, burning my 'bacco-pouches and poisoning my rumbo. O! d— ye, you can grin fast enough I see; I warrant you have learnt more things than writing and the Latin lingo.”