Dickens' Stories About Children Every Child Can Read

by Charles Dickens

  IX.

  PIP'S ADVENTURE

  ALL that little Philip Pirrip, usually called Pip, knew about his fatherand mother, and his five little brothers, was from seeing theirtombstones in the churchyard. He was cared for by his sister, who wastwenty years older than himself. She had married a blacksmith, named JoeGargery, a kind, good man, while she, unfortunately, was a hard, sternwoman, and treated her little brother and her amiable husband with greatharshness. They lived in a marshy part of the country, about twentymiles from the sea.

  One cold, raw day towards evening, when Pip was about six years old, hehad wandered into the churchyard, and was trying to make out what hecould of the inscriptions on his family tombstones. The darkness wascoming on, and feeling very lonely and frightened, he began to cry.

  "Hold your noise!" cried a terrible voice; and a man started up fromamong the graves close to him. "Keep still, you little imp, or I'll cutyour throat!"

  He was a dreadful looking man, dressed in coarse gray cloth, with agreat iron on his leg. Wet, muddy, and miserable, he limped andshivered, and glared and growled; his teeth chattered in his head, as heseized Pip, by the chin.

  "Oh! don't cut my throat, sir," cried Pip, in terror. "Pray don't do it,sir."

  "Tell us your name!" said the man. "Quick!"

  "Pip, sir."

  "Once more," said the man, staring at him, "Give it mouth."

  "Pip. Pip, sir."

  "Show us where you live," said the man. "Point out the place."

  Pip showed him the village, about a mile or more from the church.

  The man looked at him for a moment, and then turned him upside down andemptied his pockets. He found nothing in them but a piece of bread,which he ate ravenously.

  "You young dog," said the man, licking his lips, "what fat cheeks youha' got.... Darn me if I couldn't eat 'em, and if I han't half a mindto!"

  Pip said earnestly that he hoped he would not.

  "Now lookee here," said the man. "Where's your mother?"

  "There sir," said Pip.

  At this the man started and seemed about to run away, but stopped andlooked over his shoulder.

  "There, sir," explained Pip, showing him the tombstone.

  "Oh, and is that your father along of your mother?"

  "Yes, sir," said Pip.

  "Ha!" muttered the man, "then who d'ye live with--supposin' you'rekindly let to live, which I han't made up my mind about?"

  "My sister, sir, Mrs. Joe Gargery, wife of Joe Gargery, the blacksmith,sir."

  "Blacksmith, eh?" said the man, and looked down at his leg. Then heseized the trembling little boy by both arms, and glaring down at him,he said--

  "Now lookee here, the question being whether you're to be let to live.You know what a file is?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "And you know what wittles is. Something to eat?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "You get me a file, and you get me wittles--you bring 'em both to me."All this time he was tilting poor Pip backwards till he was sodreadfully frightened and giddy that he clung to the man with bothhands.

  "You bring me, to-morrow morning early, that file and them wittles. Youdo it, and you never dare to say a word or dare to make a signconcerning your having seen such a person as me, or any person sumever,and you shall be let to live." Then he threatened all sorts of dreadfuland terrible things to poor Pip if he failed to do all he had commanded,and made him solemnly promise to bring him what he wanted, and to keepthe secret. Then he let him go, saying, "You remember what you'veundertook, and you get home."

  "Goo--good-night, sir," faltered Pip.

  "Much of that!" said he, glancing over the cold wet flat. "I wish I wasa frog or a eel!"

  Pip ran home without stopping. Joe was sitting in the chimney-corner,and told him Mrs. Joe had been out to look for him, and taken Ticklerwith her. Tickler was a cane, and Pip was rather downhearted by thispiece of news.

  Mrs. Joe came in almost directly, and, after having given Pip a taste ofTickler, she sat down to prepare the tea, and, cutting a huge slice ofbread and butter, she gave half of it to Joe and half to Pip. Pipmanaged, after some time, to slip his down the leg of his trousers, andJoe, thinking he had swallowed it, was dreadfully alarmed and beggedhim not to bolt his food like that. "Pip, old chap, you'll do yourself amischief--it'll stick somewhere, you can't have chewed it, Pip. Youknow, Pip, you and me is always friends and I'd be the last one to tellupon you any time, but such a--such a most uncommon bolt as that."

  "Been bolting his food, has he?" cried Mrs. Joe.

  "You know, old chap," said Joe. "I bolted myself when I was yourage--frequent--and as a boy I've been among a many bolters; but I neversee your bolting equal yet, Pip, and it's a mercy you ain't bolteddead."

  Mrs. Joe made a dive at Pip, fished him up by the hair, saying, "Youcome along and be dosed."

  It was Christmas eve, and Pip had to stir the pudding from seven toeight, and found the bread and butter dreadfully in his way. At last heslipped out and put it away in his little bedroom.

  Poor Pip passed a wretched night, thinking of the dreadful promise hehad made, and as soon as it was beginning to get light outside he got upand crept down-stairs, fancying that every board creaked out "Stopthief!" and "Get up, Mrs. Joe!"

  As quickly as he could, he took some bread, some rind of cheese, abouthalf a jar of mince-meat, which he tied up in a handkerchief, with theslice of bread and butter, some brandy from a stone bottle, a meat-bonewith very little on it, and a pork-pipe, which he found on an uppershelf. Then he got a file from among Joe's tools, and ran for themarshes.

  It was a very misty morning, and Pip imagined that all the cattle staredat him, as if to say, "Halloa, young thief!" and one black ox with awhite cravat on, that made Pip think of a clergyman, looked soaccusingly at him, that Pip blubbered out, "I couldn't help it, sir! Itwasn't for myself I took it."

  Upon which the ox put down his head, blew a cloud of smoke out of hisnose, and vanished with a kick-up of his hind legs and a flourish of histail.

  Pip was soon at the place of meeting after that, and there was theman--hugging himself and limping to and fro, as if he had never allnight left off hugging and limping. He was awfully cold, to be sure. Piphalf expected to see him drop down before his face and die of cold. Hiseyes looked so awfully hungry, too, that when Pip handed him the file itoccurred to him he would have tried to eat it, if he had not seen thebundle. He did not turn Pip upside down, this time, to get at what hehad, but left him right side upward while he opened the bundle andemptied his pockets.

  "What's in the bottle, boy?" said he.

  "Brandy," said Pip.

  He was already handing mince-pie down his throat in the most curiousmanner, more like a man who was putting it away somewhere in a violenthurry than a man who was eating it--but he left off to take some of theliquor, shivering all the while so violently that it was quite as muchas he could do to keep the neck of the bottle between his teeth.

  "I think you have got the chills," said Pip.

  "I'm much of your opinion, boy," said he.

  "It's bad about here. You've been lying out on the marshes, and they'redreadful for the chills. Rheumatic, too."

  "I'll eat my breakfast before they're the death of me," said he. "I'd dothat, if I was going to be strung up to that there gallows as there isover there directly arterward. I'll beat the shivers so far, I'll betyou a guinea."

  He was gobbling mince-meat, meat-bone, bread, cheese, and pork-pie allat once, staring distrustfully while he did so at the mist all round,and often stopping--even stopping his jaws--to listen. Some real orfancied sound, some clink upon the river or breathing of beasts uponthe marsh, now gave him a start, and he said, suddenly:

  "You're not a false imp? You brought no one with you?"

  "No, sir! No!"

  "Nor told nobody to follow you?"

  "No!"

  "Well," said he, "I believe you. You'd be but a fierce young houndindeed, if at your time of life you should hel
p to hunt a wretchedwarmint, hunted as near death and dunghill as this poor wretched warmintis!"

  Something clicked in his throat, as if he had works in him like a clock,and was going to strike. And he smeared his ragged, rough sleeve overhis eyes.

  Pitying his desolation, and watching him as he gradually settled downupon the pie, Pip made bold to say, "I am glad you enjoy it."

  "Did you speak?"

  "I said I was glad you enjoyed it."

  "Thankee, my boy--. I do."

  Pip had often watched a large dog eating his food; and he now noticed adecided similarity between the dog's way of eating and the man's. Theman took strong, sharp, sudden bites, just like the dog. He swallowed,or rather snapped up, every mouthful too soon and too fast; and helooked sideways here and there while he ate, as if he thought there wasdanger of somebody's coming to take the pie away. He was altogether toounsettled in his mind over it to enjoy it comfortably, Pip thought, orto have anybody to dine with him, without making a chop with his jaws atthe visitor. In all of which particulars he was very like the dog.

  Pip watched him trying to file the iron off his leg, and then beingafraid of stopping longer away from home, he ran off.

  Pip passed a wretched morning, expecting every moment that thedisappearance of the pie would be found out. But Mrs. Joe was too muchtaken up with preparing the dinner, for they were expecting visitors,and were to have a superb dinner, consisting of a leg of pickled porkand greens, and a pair of roast stuffed fowls, a mince-pie, and apudding.

  Just at the end of the dinner Pip thought his time had come to be foundout, for his sister said graciously to her guests--

  "You must taste a most delightful and delicious present I have had. It'sa pie, a savory pork-pie."

  Pip could bear it no longer, and ran for the door, and there ran headforemost into a party of soldiers with their muskets, one of whom heldout a pair of handcuffs to him, saying, "Here you are, look sharp, comeon." But they had not come for him, they only wanted Joe to mend thehandcuffs, for they were on the search for two convicts who had escapedand were somewhere hid in the marshes. This turned the attention of Mrs.Joe from the disappearance of the pie, without which she had come back,in great astonishment. When the handcuffs were mended the soldiers wentoff, accompanied by Joe and one of the visitors, and Joe took Pip andcarried him on his back.

  Pip whispered, "I hope, Joe, we shan't find them," and Joe answered,"I'd give a shilling if they had cut and run, Pip."

  But the soldiers soon caught them, and one was the wretched man who hadtalked with Pip; and once when he looked at Pip, the child shook hishead to try and let him know he had said nothing.

  But the convict, without looking at anyone, told the sergeant he wantedto say something to prevent other people being under suspicion, and saidhe had taken some "wittles" from the blacksmith's. "It was some brokenwittles, that's what it was, and a dram of liquor, and a pie."

  "Have you happened to miss such an article as a pie, blacksmith?"inquired the sergeant.

  "My wife did, at the very moment when you came in. Don't you know, Pip?"

  "So," said the convict, looking at Joe, "you're the blacksmith, are you?Then, I'm sorry to say, I've eat your pie."

  "God knows you're welcome to it," said Joe. "We don't know what you havedone, but we wouldn't have you starved to death for it, poor miserablefellow-creature. Would us, Pip?"

  Then the boat came, and the convicts were taken back to their prison,and Joe carried Pip home.

  * * * * *

  Some years after, some mysterious friend sent money for Pip to beeducated and brought up as a gentleman; but it was only when Pip wasquite grown up that he discovered this mysterious friend was thewretched convict who had frightened him so dreadfully that cold, darkChristmas eve. He had been sent to a far away land, and there had grownrich; but he never forgot the little boy who had been kind to him.