The Old Curiosity Shop

by Dickens, Charles

  (notwithstanding that his art was in high repute and favour), he

  assumed the name of an Italian image lad, with whom he had become

  acquainted; and afterwards tumbled with extraordinary success, and

  to overflowing audiences. Little Mrs Quilp never quite forgave

  herself the one deceit that lay so heavy on her conscience, and

  never spoke or thought of it but with bitter tears. Her husband

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  had no relations, and she was rich. He had made no will, or she

  would probably have been poor. Having married the first time at

  her mother's instigation, she consulted in her second choice nobody

  but herself. It fell upon a smart young fellow enough; and as he

  made it a preliminary condition that Mrs Jiniwin should be

  thenceforth an out-pensioner, they lived together after marriage

  with no more than the average amount of quarrelling, and led a

  merry life upon the dead dwarf's money.

  Mr and Mrs Garland, and Mr Abel, went out as usual (except that

  there was a change in their household, as will be seen presently),

  and in due time the latter went into partnership with his friend

  the notary, on which occasion there was a dinner, and a ball, and

  great extent of dissipation. Unto this ball there happened to be

  invited the most bashful young lady that was ever seen, with whom

  Mr Abel happened to fall in love. HOW it happened, or how they

  found it out, or which of them first communicated the discovery to

  the other, nobody knows. But certain it is that in course of time

  they were married; and equally certain it is that they were the

  happiest of the happy; and no less certain it is that they deserved

  to be so. And it is pleasant to write down that they reared a

  family; because any propagation of goodness and benevolence is no

  small addition to the aristocracy of nature, and no small subject

  of rejoicing for mankind at large.

  The pony preserved his character for independence and principle

  down to the last moment of his life; which was an unusually long

  one, and caused him to be looked upon, indeed, as the very Old Parr

  of ponies. He often went to and fro with the little phaeton

  between Mr Garland's and his son's, and, as the old people and the

  young were frequently together, had a stable of his own at the new

  establishment, into which he would walk of himself with surprising

  dignity. He condescended to play with the children, as they grew

  old enough to cultivate his friendship, and would run up and down

  the little paddock with them like a dog; but though he relaxed so

  far, and allowed them such small freedoms as caresses, or even to

  look at his shoes or hang on by his tail, he never permitted any

  one among them to mount his back or drive him; thus showing that

  even their familiarity must have its limits, and that there were

  points between them far too serious for trifling.

  He was not unsusceptible of warm attachments in his later life, for

  when the good bachelor came to live with Mr Garland upon the

  clergyman's decease, he conceived a great friendship for him, and

  amiably submitted to be driven by his hands without the least

  resistance. He did no work for two or three years before he died,

  but lived in clover; and his last act (like a choleric old

  gentleman) was to kick his doctor.

  Mr Swiveller, recovering very slowly from his illness, and entering

  into the receipt of his annuity, bought for the Marchioness a

  handsome stock of clothes, and put her to school forthwith, in

  redemption of the vow he had made upon his fevered bed. After

  casting about for some time for a name which should be worthy of

  her, he decided in favour of Sophronia Sphynx, as being euphonious

  and genteel, and furthermore indicative of mystery. Under this

  title the Marchioness repaired, in tears, to the school of his

  selection, from which, as she soon distanced all competitors, she

  was removed before the lapse of many quarters to one of a higher

  grade. It is but bare justice to Mr Swiveller to say, that,

  although the expenses of her education kept him in straitened

  circumstances for half a dozen years, he never slackened in his

  zeal, and always held himself sufficiently repaid by the accounts

  he heard (with great gravity) of her advancement, on his monthly

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  visits to the governess, who looked upon him as a literary

  gentleman of eccentric habits, and of a most prodigious talent in

  quotation.

  In a word, Mr Swiveller kept the Marchioness at this establishment

  until she was, at a moderate guess, full nineteen years of age--

  good-looking, clever, and good-humoured; when he began to consider

  seriously what was to be done next. On one of his periodical

  visits, while he was revolving this question in his mind, the

  Marchioness came down to him, alone, looking more smiling and more

  fresh than ever. Then, it occurred to him, but not for the first

  time, that if she would marry him, how comfortable they might be!

  So Richard asked her; whatever she said, it wasn't No; and they

  were married in good earnest that day week. Which gave Mr

  Swiveller frequent occasion to remark at divers subsequent periods

  that there had been a young lady saving up for him after all.

  A little cottage at Hampstead being to let, which had in its garden

  a smoking-box, the envy of the civilised world, they agreed to

  become its tenants, and, when the honey-moon was over, entered upon

  its occupation. To this retreat Mr Chuckster repaired regularly

  every Sunday to spend the day--usually beginning with breakfast--

  and here he was the great purveyor of general news and fashionable

  intelligence. For some years he continued a deadly foe to Kit,

  protesting that he had a better opinion of him when he was supposed

  to have stolen the five-pound note, than when he was shown to be

  perfectly free of the crime; inasmuch as his guilt would have had

  in it something daring and bold, whereas his innocence was but

  another proof of a sneaking and crafty disposition. By slow

  degrees, however, he was reconciled to him in the end; and even

  went so far as to honour him with his patronage, as one who had in

  some measure reformed, and was therefore to be forgiven. But he

  never forgot or pardoned that circumstance of the shilling; holding

  that if he had come back to get another he would have done well

  enough, but that his returning to work out the former gift was a

  stain upon his moral character which no penitence or contrition

  could ever wash away.

  Mr Swiveller, having always been in some measure of a philosophic

  and reflective turn, grew immensely contemplative, at times, in the

  smoking-box, and was accustomed at such periods to debate in his

  own mind the mysterious question of Sophronia's parentage.

  Sophronia herself supposed she was an orphan; but Mr Swiveller,

  putting various slight circumstances together, often thought Miss

  Brass must know better than that; and, havin
g heard from his wife

  of her strange interview with Quilp, entertained sundry misgivings

  whether that person, in his lifetime, might not also have been able

  to solve the riddle, had he chosen. These speculations, however,

  gave him no uneasiness; for Sophronia was ever a most cheerful,

  affectionate, and provident wife to him; and Dick (excepting for an

  occasional outbreak with Mr Chuckster, which she had the good sense

  rather to encourage than oppose) was to her an attached and

  domesticated husband. And they played many hundred thousand games

  of cribbage together. And let it be added, to Dick's honour, that,

  though we have called her Sophronia, he called her the Marchioness

  from first to last; and that upon every anniversary of the day on

  which he found her in his sick room, Mr Chuckster came to dinner,

  and there was great glorification.

  The gamblers, Isaac List and Jowl, with their trusty confederate Mr

  James Groves of unimpeachable memory, pursued their course with

  varying success, until the failure of a spirited enterprise in the

  way of their profession, dispersed them in various directions, and

  caused their career to receive a sudden check from the long and

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  strong arm of the law. This defeat had its origin in the untoward

  detection of a new associate--young Frederick Trent--who thus

  became the unconscious instrument of their punishment and his own.

  For the young man himself, he rioted abroad for a brief term,

  living by his wits--which means by the abuse of every faculty that

  worthily employed raises man above the beasts, and so degraded,

  sinks him far below them. It was not long before his body was

  recognised by a stranger, who chanced to visit that hospital in

  Paris where the drowned are laid out to be owned; despite the

  bruises and disfigurements which were said to have been occasioned

  by some previous scuffle. But the stranger kept his own counsel

  until he returned home, and it was never claimed or cared for.

  The younger brother, or the single gentleman, for that designation

  is more familiar, would have drawn the poor schoolmaster from his

  lone retreat, and made him his companion and friend. But the

  humble village teacher was timid of venturing into the noisy world,

  and had become fond of his dwelling in the old churchyard. Calmly

  happy in his school, and in the spot, and in the attachment of Her

  little mourner, he pursued his quiet course in peace; and was,

  through the righteous gratitude of his friend--let this brief

  mention suffice for that--a POOR school-master no more.

  That friend--single gentleman, or younger brother, which you will--

  had at his heart a heavy sorrow; but it bred in him no

  misanthropy or monastic gloom. He went forth into the world, a

  lover of his kind. For a long, long time, it was his chief delight

  to travel in the steps of the old man and the child (so far as he

  could trace them from her last narrative), to halt where they had

  halted, sympathise where they had suffered, and rejoice where they

  had been made glad. Those who had been kind to them, did not

  escape his search. The sisters at the school--they who were her

  friends, because themselves so friendless--Mrs Jarley of the

  wax-work, Codlin, Short--he found them all; and trust me, the man

  who fed the furnace fire was not forgotten.

  Kit's story having got abroad, raised him up a host of friends, and

  many offers of provision for his future life. He had no idea at

  first of ever quitting Mr Garland's service; but, after serious

  remonstrance and advice from that gentleman, began to contemplate

  the possibility of such a change being brought about in time. A

  good post was procured for him, with a rapidity which took away his

  breath, by some of the gentlemen who had believed him guilty of the

  offence laid to his charge, and who had acted upon that belief.

  Through the same kind agency, his mother was secured from want, and

  made quite happy. Thus, as Kit often said, his great misfortune

  turned out to be the source of all his subsequent prosperity.

  Did Kit live a single man all his days, or did he marry? Of course

  he married, and who should be his wife but Barbara? And the best

  of it was, he married so soon that little Jacob was an uncle,

  before the calves of his legs, already mentioned in this history,

  had ever been encased in broadcloth pantaloons,--though that was

  not quite the best either, for of necessity the baby was an uncle

  too. The delight of Kit's mother and of Barbara's mother upon the

  great occasion is past all telling; finding they agreed so well on

  that, and on all other subjects, they took up their abode together,

  and were a most harmonious pair of friends from that time forth.

  And hadn't Astley's cause to bless itself for their all going

  together once a quarter--to the pit--and didn't Kit's mother

  always say, when they painted the outside, that Kit's last treat

  had helped to that, and wonder what the manager would feel if he

  but knew it as they passed his house!

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  When Kit had children six and seven years old, there was a Barbara

  among them, and a pretty Barbara she was. Nor was there wanting an

  exact facsimile and copy of little Jacob, as he appeared in those

  remote times when they taught him what oysters meant. Of course

  there was an Abel, own godson to the Mr Garland of that name; and

  there was a Dick, whom Mr Swiveller did especially favour. The

  little group would often gather round him of a night and beg him to

  tell again that story of good Miss Nell who died. This, Kit would

  do; and when they cried to hear it, wishing it longer too, he would

  teach them how she had gone to Heaven, as all good people did; and

  how, if they were good, like her, they might hope to be there too,

  one day, and to see and know her as he had done when he was quite

  a boy. Then, he would relate to them how needy he used to be, and

  how she had taught him what he was otherwise too poor to learn, and

  how the old man had been used to say 'she always laughs at Kit;' at

  which they would brush away their tears, and laugh themselves to

  think that she had done so, and be again quite merry.

  He sometimes took them to the street where she had lived; but new

  improvements had altered it so much, it was not like the same. The

  old house had been long ago pulled down, and a fine broad road was

  in its place. At first he would draw with his stick a square upon

  the ground to show them where it used to stand. But he soon became

  uncertain of the spot, and could only say it was thereabouts, he

  thought, and these alterations were confusing.

  Such are the changes which a few years bring about, and so do

  things pass away, like a tale that is told!

  End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Old Curiosity Shop

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