VI.
LITTLE NELL.
THE house where little Nell and her grandfather lived was one of thoseplaces where old and curious things were kept, one of those old houseswhich seem to crouch in odd corners of the town, and to hide their mustytreasures from the public eye in jealousy and distrust. There were suitsof mail standing like ghosts in armor, here and there; curious carvingsbrought from monkish cloisters; rusty weapons of various kinds;distorted figures in china, and wood, and iron, and ivory; tapestry, andstrange furniture that might have been designed in dreams; and in theold, dark, dismal rooms there lived alone together the man and achild--his grandchild, Little Nell. Solitary and dull as was her life,the innocent and cheerful spirit of the child found happiness in allthings, and through the dim rooms of the old curiosity shop Little Nellwent singing, moving with gay and lightsome step.
Little Nell and Her Grandfather.
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But gradually over the old man, whom she so tenderly loved, there stolea sad change. He became thoughtful, sad and wretched. He had no sleepor rest but that which he took by day in his easy-chair; for everynight, and all night long, he was away from home. To the child it seemedthat her grandfather's love for her increased, even with the hiddengrief by which she saw him struck down. And to see him sorrowful, andnot to know the cause of his sorrow; to see him growing pale and weakunder his trouble of mind, so weighed upon her gentle spirit that attimes she felt as though her heart must break.
At last the time came when the old man's feeble frame could bear up nolonger against his hidden care. A raging fever seized him, and, as helay delirious or insensible through many weeks, Nell learned that thehouse which sheltered them was theirs no longer; that in the future theywould be very poor; that they would scarcely have bread to eat. Atlength the old man began to mend, but his mind was weakened.
He would sit for hours together, with Nell's small hand in his, playingwith the fingers, and sometimes stopping to smooth her hair or kiss herbrow; and when he saw that tears were glistening in her eyes he wouldlook amazed. As the time drew near when they must leave the house, hemade no reference to the necessity of finding other shelter. Anindistinct idea he had that the child was desolate and in need of help;though he seemed unable to understand their real position moredistinctly. But a change came upon him one evening, as he and Nell satsilently together.
"Let us speak softly, Nell," he said. "Hush! for if they knew ourpurpose they would say that I was mad, and take thee from me. We willnot stop here another day. We will travel afoot through the fields andwoods, and trust ourselves to God in the places where He dwells.To-morrow morning, dear, we'll turn our faces from this scene of sorrow,and be as free and happy as the birds."
The child's heart beat high with hope and confidence. She had no thoughtof hunger, or cold, or thirst, or suffering. To her it seemed that theymight beg their way from door to door in happiness, so that they weretogether.
When the day began to glimmer they stole out of the house, and, passinginto the street, stood still.
"Which way?" asked the child.
The old man looked doubtfully and helplessly at her, and shook his head.It was plain that she was thenceforth his guide and leader. The childfelt it, but had no doubts or misgivings, and, putting her hand in his,led him gently away. Forth from the city, while it yet was asleep wentthe two poor wanderers, going, they knew not whither.
They passed through the long, deserted streets, in the glad light ofearly morning, until these streets dwindled away, and the open countrywas about them. They walked all day, and slept that night at a smallcottage where beds were let to travelers. The sun was setting on thesecond day of their journey, and they were jaded and worn out withwalking, when, following a path which led through a churchyard to thetown where they were to spend the night, they fell in with two travelingshowmen, the exhibitors or keepers of a Punch and Judy show. These twomen raised their eyes when the old man and his young companion wereclose upon them. One of them, the real exhibitor, no doubt, was alittle, merry-faced man with a twinkling eye and a red nose, who seemedto be something like old Punch himself. The other--that was he who tookthe money--had rather a careful and cautious look, which perhaps camefrom his business also.
The merry man was the first to greet the strangers with a nod; andfollowing the old man's eyes, he observed that perhaps that was thefirst time he had ever seen a Punch off the stage.
"Why do you come here to do this?" said the old man sitting down besidethem, and looking at the figures with extreme delight.
"Why, you see," rejoined the little man, "we're putting up for to-nightat the public house yonder, and it wouldn't do to let 'em see thepresent company undergoing repair."
"No!" cried the old man, making signs to Nell to listen, "why not, eh?why not?"
"Because it would destroy all the reality of the show and take away allthe interest, wouldn't it?" replied the little man. "Would you care aha'penny for the Lord Chancellor if you know'd him in private andwithout his wig?--certainly not."[C]
"Good!" said the old man, venturing to touch one of the puppets, anddrawing away his hand with a shrill laugh. "Are you going to show 'emto-night? are you?"
"That is the purpose, governor," replied the other, "and unless I'm muchmistaken, Tommy Codlin is a-calculating at this minute what we've lostthrough your coming upon us. Cheer up, Tommy, it can't be much."
The little man accompanied these latter words with a wink, expressiveof the estimate he had formed of the travelers' pocketbook.
To this Mr. Codlin, who had a surly, grumbling manner, replied, as hetwitched Punch off the tombstone and flung him into the box:
"I don't care if we haven't lost a farden, but you're too free. If youstood in front of the curtain and see the public's faces as I do, you'dknow human natur' better."
Turning over the figures in the box like one who knew and despised them,Mr. Codlin drew one forth and held it up for the inspection of hisfriend:
"Look here; here's all this Judy's clothes falling to pieces again. Youhaven't got a needle and thread, I suppose?"
The little man shook his head and scratched it sadly, as he contemplatedthis condition of a principal performer in his show. Seeing that theywere at a loss, the child said, timidly:
"I have a needle, sir, in my basket, and thread too. Will you let me tryto mend it for you? I think I could do it neater than you could."
Even Mr. Codlin had nothing to urge against a proposal so seasonable.Nell, kneeling down beside the box, was soon busily engaged in her task,and finished it in a wonderful way.
While she was thus at work, the merry little man looked at her with aninterest which did not appear to be any less when he glanced at herhelpless companion. When she had finished her work he thanked her, andasked to what place they were traveling.
"N--no farther to-night, I think," said the child, looking toward hergrandfather.
"If you're wanting a place to stop at," the man remarked. "I shouldadvise you to take up at the same house with us. That's it. The longlow, white house there. It's very cheap."
They went to the little inn, and when they had been refreshed, the wholehouse hurried away into an empty stable where the show stood, and where,by the light of a few flaring candles stuck round a hoop which hung by aline from the ceiling, it was to be forthwith shown.
And now Mr. Thomas Codlin, after blowing away at the Pan's pipes, tookhis station on one side of the curtain which concealed the mover of thefigures, and, putting his hands in his pockets, prepared to reply to allquestions and remarks of Punch, and to make a pretence of being his mostintimate private friend, of believing in him to the fullest and mostunlimited extent, of knowing that Mr. Punch enjoyed day and night amerry and glorious life in that temple, and that he was at all timesand under every circumstance the same wise and joyful person that allpresent then beheld him.
The whole performance was applauded until the old stable rang, and giftswere showere
d in with a liberality which testified yet more strongly tothe general delight. Among the laughter none was more loud and frequentthan the old man's. Nell's was unheard, for she, poor child, with herhead drooping on his shoulder, had fallen asleep, and slept too soundlyto be roused by any of his efforts to awaken her to a part in his glee.
The supper was very good, but she was too tired to eat, and yet wouldnot leave the old man until she had kissed him in his bed. He, happilyinsensible to every care and anxiety, sat listening with a vacant smileand admiring face to all that his new friends said; and it was not untilthey retired yawning to their room that he followed the child up-stairs.
She had a little money, but it was very little; and when that was gonethey must begin to beg. There was one piece of gold among it, and a needmight come when its worth to them would be increased a hundred times. Itwould be best to hide this coin, and never show it unless their case wasentirely desperate, and nothing else was left them.
Her resolution taken, she sewed the piece of gold into her dress, andgoing to bed with a lighter heart sunk into a deep slumber.
"And where are you going to-day?" said the little man the followingmorning, addressing himself to Nell.
"Indeed I hardly know--we have not made up our minds yet," replied thechild.
"We're going on to the races," said the little man. "If that's your wayand you like to have us for company, let us travel together. If youprefer going alone, only say the word and you'll find that we sha'n'ttrouble you."
"We'll go with you," said the old man. "Nell--with them, with them."
The child thought for a moment, and knowing that she must shortly beg,and could scarcely hope to do so at a better place than where crowds ofrich ladies and gentlemen were met together for enjoyment, determined togo with these men so far. She therefore thanked the little man for hisoffer, and said, glancing timidly toward his friend, that they would ifthere was no objection to their staying with them as far as therace-town.
And with these men they traveled forward on the following day.
They made two long days' journey with their new companions, passingthrough villages and towns, and meeting upon one occasion with two youngpeople walking upon stilts, who were also going to the races.
And now they had come to the time when they must beg their bread. Soonafter sunrise the second morning, she stole out, and, rambling into somefields at a short distance, plucked a few wild roses and such humbleflowers, purposing to make them into little nosegays and offer them tothe ladies in the carriages when the company arrived. Her thoughts werenot idle while she was thus busy; when she returned and was seatedbeside the old man, tying her flowers together, while the two men laydozing in the corner, she plucked him by the sleeve, and, slightlyglancing toward them, said in a low voice:
"Grandfather, don't look at those I talk of, and don't seem as if Ispoke of anything but what I am about. What was that you told me beforewe left the old house? That if they knew what we were going to do, theywould say that you were mad, and part us?"
The old man turned to her with a look of wild terror; but she checkedhim by a look, and bidding him hold some flowers while she tied them up,and so bringing her lips closer to his ear, said:
"I know that was what you told me. You needn't speak, dear. I recollectit very well. It was not likely that I should forget it. Grandfather, Ihave heard these men say they think that we have secretly left ourfriends, and mean to carry us before some gentleman and have us takencare of and sent back. If you let your hand tremble so, we can never getaway from them, but if you're only quiet now, we shall do so easily."
"How?" muttered the old man. "Dear Nell, how? They will shut me up in astone-room, dark and cold, and chain me up to the wall, Nell--flog mewith whips, and never let me see thee more!"
"You're trembling again," said the child. "Keep close to me all day.Never mind them, don't look at them, but me. I shall find a time when wecan steal away. When I do, mind you come with me, and do not stop orspeak a word. Hush! That's all."
"Halloo! what are you up to, my dear?" said Mr. Codlin, raising hishead, and yawning.
"Making some nosegays," the child replied; "I am going to try to sellsome, these three days of the races. Will you have one--as a present, Imean?"
Mr. Codlin would have risen to receive it, but the child hurried towardhim and placed it in his hand, and he stuck it in his button-hole.
As the morning wore on, the tents at the race-course assumed a gayer andmore brilliant appearance, and long lines of carriages came rollingsoftly on the turf. Black-eyed gipsy girls, their heads covered withshowy handkerchiefs, came out to tell fortunes, and pale, slender womenwith wasted faces followed the footsteps of conjurers, and counted thesixpences with anxious eyes long before they were gained. As many of thechildren as could be kept within bounds were stowed away, with all theother signs of dirt and poverty, among the donkeys, carts, and horses;and as many as could not be thus disposed of ran in and out in alldirections, crept between people's legs and carriage wheels, and cameforth unharmed from under horses' hoofs. The dancing-dogs, the stilts,the little lady and the tall man, and all the other attractions, withorgans out of number and bands innumerable, came out from the holes andcorners in which they had passed the night, and flourished boldly in thesun.
Along the uncleared course, Short led his party, sounding the brazentrumpet and speaking in the voice of Punch; and at his heels went ThomasCodlin, bearing the show as usual, and keeping his eye on Nell and hergrandfather, as they rather lingered in the rear. The child bore uponher arm the little basket with her flowers, and sometimes stopped, withtimid and modest looks, to offer them at some gay carriage; but alas!there were many bolder beggars there, gipsies who promised husbands, andothers skillful in their trade; and although some ladies smiled gentlyas they shook their heads, and others cried to the gentlemen besidethem, "See what a pretty face!" they let the pretty face pass on, andnever thought that it looked tired or hungry.
There was but one lady who seemed to understand the child, and she wasone who sat alone in a handsome carriage, while two young men in dashingclothes, who had just stepped out from it, talked and laughed loudly ata little distance, appearing to forget her, quite. There were manyladies all around, but they turned their backs, or looked another way,or at the two young men (not unfavorably at _them_), and left her toherself. The lady motioned away a gipsy woman, eager to tell herfortune, saying that it was told already and had been for some years,but called the child toward her, and, taking her flowers, put money intoher trembling hand, and bade her go home and keep at home.
Many a time they went up and down those long, long lines, seeingeverything but the horses and the race; when the bell rung to clear thecourse, going back to rest among the carts and donkeys, and not comingout again until the heat was over. Many a time, too, was Punch displayedin the full glory of his humor; but all this while the eye of ThomasCodlin was upon them, and to escape without notice was almostimpossible.
At length, late in the day, Mr. Codlin pitched the show in a spot rightin the middle of the crowd, and the Punch and Judy were surrounded bypeople who were watching the performance.
Short was moving the images, and knocking them in the fury of the combatagainst the sides of the show, the people were looking on with laughingfaces, and Mr. Codlin's face showed a grim smile as his roving eyedetected the hands of thieves in the crowd going into waistcoat pockets.If Nell and her grandfather were ever to get away unseen, that was thevery moment. They seized it, and fled.
They made a path through booths and carriages and throngs of people, andnever once stopped to look behind. The bell was ringing, and the coursewas cleared by the time they reached the ropes, but they dashed acrossit, paying no attention to the shouts and screeching that assailed themfor breaking in it, and, creeping under the brow of the hill at a quickpace, made for the open fields. At last they were free from Codlin andShort.
That night they reached a little village in a woody hollow. The villageschoolm
aster, a good and gentle man, pitying their weariness, andattracted by the child's sweetness and modesty, gave them a lodging forthe night; nor would he let them leave him until two days more hadpassed.
They journeyed on, when the time came that they must wander forth again,by pleasant country lanes; and as they passed, watching the birds thatperched and twittered in the branches overhead, or listening to thesongs that broke the happy silence, their hearts were peaceful and freefrom care. But by-and-by they came to a long winding road whichlengthened out far into the distance, and though they still kept on, itwas at a much slower pace, for they were now very weary.
The afternoon had worn away into a beautiful evening, when they arrivedat a point where the road made a sharp turn and struck across a common.On the border of this common, and close to the hedge which divided itfrom the cultivated fields, a caravan was drawn up to rest; upon whichthey came so suddenly that they could not have avoided it if they would.Do you know what a "caravan" is? It is a sort of gipsy house on wheelsin which people live, while the house moves from place to place.
It was not a shabby, dingy, dusty cart, but a smart little house withwhite dimity curtains hung over the windows, and window-shutters ofgreen picked out with panels of a staring red, in whichhappily-contrasted colors the whole house shone brilliant. Neither wasit a poor caravan drawn by a single donkey or feeble old horse, for apair of horses in pretty good condition were released from the shaftsand grazing on the frouzy grass. Neither was it a gipsy caravan, for atthe open door (graced with a bright brass knocker) sat a Christian lady,stout and comfortable to look upon, who wore a large bonnet tremblingwith bows. And that it was not a caravan of poor people was clear fromwhat this lady was doing; for she was taking her tea. The tea-things,including a bottle of rather suspicious looks and a cold knuckle of ham,were set forth upon a drum, covered with a white napkin; and there, asif at the most convenient round-table in all the world, sat this rovinglady, taking her tea and enjoying the prospect.
It happened at that moment that the lady of the caravan had her cup(which, that everything about her might be of a stout and comfortablekind, was a breakfast cup) to her lips, and that having her eyes liftedto the sky in her enjoyment of the full flavor of her tea, it happenedthat, being thus agreeably engaged, she did not see the travelers whenthey first came up. It was not until she was in the act of setting downthe cup, and drawing a long breath after the exertion of swallowing itscontents, that the lady of the caravan beheld an old man and a youngchild walking slowly by, and glancing at her proceedings with eyes ofmodest, but hungry admiration.
"Hey!" cried the lady of the caravan, scooping the crumbs out of her lapand swallowing the same before wiping her lips. "Yes, to besure------Who won the Helter-Skelter Plate, child?"
"Won what, ma'am?" asked Nell.
"The Helter-Skelter Plate at the races, child--the plate that was runfor on the second day."
"On the second day, ma'am?"
"Second day! Yes, second day," repeated the lady, with an air ofimpatience. "Can't you say who won the Helter-Skelter Plate when you'reasked the question civilly?"
"I don't know, ma'am."
"Don't know!" repeated the lady of the caravan; "why, you were there. Isaw you with my own eyes."
Nell was not a little alarmed to hear this, supposing that the ladymight be intimately acquainted with the firm of Short and Codlin; butwhat followed tended to put her at her ease.
"And very sorry I was," said the lady of the caravan, "to see you incompany with a Punch--a low, common, vulgar wretch, that people shouldscorn to look at."
"I was not there by choice," returned the child; "we didn't know ourway, and the two men were very kind to us, and let us travel with them.Do you--do you know them, ma'am?"
"Know 'em, child?" cried the lady of the caravan, in a sort of shriek."Know _them_! But you're young and ignorant, and that's your excuse forasking sich a question. Do I look as if I know'd 'em? does the caravanlook as if _it_ know'd 'em?"
"No, ma'am, no," said the child, fearing she had committed some grievousfault. "I beg your pardon."
The lady of the caravan was in the act of gathering her tea thingstogether preparing to clear the table, but noting the child's anxiousmanner, she hesitated and stopped. The child courtesied, and, giving herhand to the old man, had already got some fifty yards or so away, whenthe lady of the caravan called to her to return.
"Come nearer, nearer still," said she, beckoning to her to ascend thesteps. "Are you hungry, child?"
"Not very, but we are tired, and it's--it _is_ a long way------"
"Well, hungry or not, you had better have some tea," rejoined her newacquaintance. "I suppose you are agreeable to that old gentleman?"
The grandfather humbly pulled off his hat and thanked her. The lady ofthe caravan then bade him come up the steps likewise, but the drumproving an inconvenient table for two, they went down again, and satupon the grass, where she handed down to them the tea-tray, the breadand butter, and the knuckle of ham.
"Set 'em out near the hind wheels child, that's the best place," saidtheir friend, superintending the arrangement from above. "Now hand upthe tea-pot for a little more hot water and a pinch of fresh tea, andthen both of you eat and drink as much as you can, and don't spareanything; that's all I ask of you."
The mistress of the caravan, saying the girl and her grandfather couldnot be very heavy, invited them to go along with them for a while, forwhich Nell thanked her with all her heart.
When they had traveled slowly forward for some short distance, Nellventured to steal a look round the caravan and observe it more closely.One-half of it--that part in which the comfortable proprietress was thenseated--was carpeted, and so divided the farther end as to form asleeping-place, made after the fashion of a berth on board ship, whichwas shaded, like the little windows, with fair white curtains, andlooked comfortable enough, though by what kind of gymnastic exercise thelady of the caravan ever contrived to get into it was a mystery. Theother half served for a kitchen, and was fitted up with a stove whosesmall chimney passed through the roof.
The mistress sat looking at the child for a long time in silence, andthen, getting up, brought out from a corner a large roll of canvas abouta yard in width, which she laid upon the floor and spread open with herfoot until it nearly reached from one end of the caravan to the other.
"There, child," she said, "read that."
Nell walked down it, and read aloud, in enormous black letters, theinscription, "JARLEY'S WAX-WORK."
"Read it again," said the lady, complacently.
"Jarley's Wax-work," repeated Nell.
"That's me," said the lady. "I am Mrs. Jarley."
Giving the child an encouraging look, the lady of the caravan unfoldedanother scroll, whereon was the inscription, "One hundred figures thefull size of life;" and then another scroll, on which was written, "Theonly stupendous collection of real wax-work in the world;" and thenseveral smaller scrolls, with such inscriptions as "Now exhibitingwithin"--"The genuine and only Jarley"--"Jarley's unrivaledcollection"--"Jarley is the delight of the Nobility and Gentry"--"TheRoyal Family are the patrons of Jarley." When she had exhibited theselarge painted signs to the astonished child, she brought forth specimensof the lesser notices in the shape of hand-bills, some of which wereprinted in the form of verses on popular times, as "Believe me if allJarley's wax-work so rare"--"I saw thy show in youthful prime"--"Overthe water to Jarley;" while, to satisfy all tastes, others were composedwith a view to the lighter and merrier spirits, as a verse on thefavorite air of "If I had a donkey," beginning
If I know'd a donkey wot wouldn't go To see Mrs. Jarley's wax-work show, Do you think I'd own him? Oh no, no! Then run to Jarley's------
besides several compositions in prose, pretending to be dialoguesbetween the Emperor of China and an oyster.
"I never saw any wax-work, ma'am," said Nell. "Is it funnier thanPunch?"
"Funnier!" said Mr
s. Jarley in a shrill voice. "It is not funny at all."
"Oh!" said Nell, with all possible humility.
"It isn't funny at all," repeated Mrs. Jarley. "It's calm and--what'sthat word again--critical?--no--classical, that's it--it's calm andclassical. No low beatings and knockings about, no jokings andsqueakings like your precious Punches, but always the same, with aconstantly unchanging air of coldness and dignity; and so like lifethat, if wax-work only spoke and walked about you'd hardly know thedifference. I won't go so far as to say that, as it is, I've seenwax-work quite like life, but I've certainly seen some life that wasexactly like wax-work."
This conference at length concluded, she beckoned Nell to sit down.
"And the old gentleman, too," said Mrs. Jarley; "for I want to have aword with him. Do you want a good place for your granddaughter, master?If you do, I can put her in the way of getting one. What do you say?"
"I can't leave her," answered the old man. "We can't separate. Whatwould become of me without her?"
"If you're really ready to employ yourself," said Mrs. Jarley, "therewould be plenty for you to do in the way of helping to dust the figures,and take the checks, and so forth. What I want your granddaughter for isto point 'em out to the company; they would be soon learned and she hasa way with her that people wouldn't think unpleasant, though she _does_come after me; for I've been always accustomed to go round with visitorsmyself, which I should keep on doing now, only that my spirits make alittle rest absolutely necessary. It's not a common offer, bear inmind," said the lady, rising into the tone and manner in which she wasaccustomed to address her audiences; "it's Jarley's wax-work, remember.The duty's very light and genteel, the company particularly select, theexhibition takes place in assembly-rooms, town-halls, large rooms atinns, or auction galleries. There is none of your open-air wondering atJarley's, recollect; there is no tarpaulin and sawdust at Jarley's,remember. Every promise made in the hand-bills is kept to the utmost,and the whole forms an effect of splendor hitherto unknown in thiskingdom. Remember that the price of admission is only sixpence, and thatthis is an opportunity which may never occur again!"
"We are very much obliged to you, ma'am," said Nell, "and thankfullyaccept your offer."
"And you'll never be sorry for it," returned Mrs. Jarley. "I'm prettysure of that. So as that's all settled, let us have a bit of supper."
Rumbling along with most unwonted noise, the caravan stopped at last atthe place of exhibition, where Nell came down from the wagon among anadmiring group of children, who evidently supposed her to be animportant part of the curiosities, and were almost ready to believe thather grandfather was a cunning device in wax. The chests were taken outof the van for the figures with all haste, and taken in to be unlockedby Mrs. Jarley, who, attended by George and the driver, arranged theircontents (consisting of red festoons and other ornamental work) to makethe best show in the decoration of the room.
When the festoons were all put up as tastily as they might be, thewonderful collection was uncovered; and there were shown, on a raisedplatform some two feet from the floor, running round the room and partedfrom the rude public by a crimson rope, breast high, a large number ofsprightly waxen images of famous people, singly and in groups, clad inglittering dresses of various climes and times, and standing more orless unsteadily upon their legs, with their eyes very wide open, andtheir nostrils very much inflated, and the muscles of their legs, andarms very strongly developed, and all their faces expressing greatsurprise. All the gentlemen were very narrow in the breast, and veryblue about the beards; and all the ladies were wonderful figures; andall the ladies and all the gentlemen were looking intensely nowhere, andstaring with tremendous earnestness at nothing.
When Nell had shown her first wonder at this glorious sight, Mrs. Jarleyordered the room to be cleared of all but herself and the child, and,sitting herself down in an arm-chair in the center, presented Nell witha willow wand, long used by herself for pointing out the characters,and was at great pains to instruct her in her duty.
"That," said Mrs. Jarley, in her exhibition tone, as Nell touched afigure at the beginning of the platform, "is an unfortunate maid ofhonor in the time of Queen Elizabeth, who died from pricking her fingerin consequence of working upon a Sunday. Observe the blood which istrickling from her finger; also the gold-eyed needle of the period, withwhich she is at work."
All this Nell repeated twice or thrice--pointing to the finger and theneedle at the right times; and then passed on to the next.
"That, ladies and gentlemen," said Mrs. Jarley, "is Jasper Packlemerton,of terrible memory, who courted and married fourteen wives, anddestroyed them all, by tickling the soles of their feet when they weresleeping in the consciousness of innocence and virtue. On being broughtto the scaffold and asked if he was sorry for what he had done, hereplied yes, he was sorry for having let 'em off so easy, and hoped allChristian husbands would pardon him the offense. Let this be a warningto all young ladies to be particular in the character of the gentlemenof their choice. Observe that his fingers are curled as if in the act oftickling, and that his face is represented with a wink, as he appearedwhen committing his barbarous murders."
When Nell knew all about Mr. Packlemerton, and could say it withoutfaltering, Mrs. Jarley passed on to the fat man, and then to the thinman, the tall man, the short man, the old lady who died of dancing at ahundred and thirty-two, the wild boy of the woods, the woman whopoisoned fourteen families with pickled walnuts, and other historicalcharacters and interesting but misguided individuals. And so well didNell profit by her instructions, and so apt was she to remember them,that by the time they had been shut up together for a couple of hours,she was in full possession of the history of the whole establishment,and perfectly able to tell the stories of the wax-work to visitors.
For some time her life and the life of the poor vacant old man passedquietly and happily. They traveled from place to place with Mrs. Jarley;Nell spoke her piece, with the wand in her hand, before the waxenimages; and her grandfather in a dull way dusted the images when he wastold to do so.
But heavier sorrow was yet to come. One night, a holiday night for them,Neil and her grandfather went out to walk. A terrible thunderstormcoming on, they were forced to take refuge in a small public house; andhere they saw some shabbily dressed and wicked looking men were playingcards. The old man watched them with increasing interest and excitement,until his whole appearance underwent a complete change. His face wasflushed and eager, his teeth set. With a hand that trembled violently heseized Nell's little purse, and in spite of her pleadings joined in thegame, gambling with such a savage thirst for gain that the distressedand frightened child could almost better have borne to see him dead. Itwas long after midnight when the play came to an end; and they wereforced to remain where they were until the morning. And in the night thechild was wakened from her troubled sleep to find a figure in theroom--a figure busying its hands about her garments, while its face wasturned to her, listening and looking lest she should awake. It was hergrandfather himself, his white face pinched and sharpened by thegreediness which made his eyes unnaturally bright, counting the money ofwhich his hands were robbing her.
Evening after evening, after that night, the old man would steal away,not to return until the night was far spent, demanding, wildly, money.And at last there came an hour when the child overheard him, temptedbeyond his feeble powers of resistance, undertake to find more money tofeed the desperate passion which had laid its hold upon his weakness byrobbing the kind Mrs. Jarley, who had done so much for them. The poorold man had become so weak in his mind, that he did not understand howwicked was his act.
That night the child took her grandfather by the hand and led him forth.Through the strait streets and narrow outskirts of the town theirtrembling feet passed quickly; the child sustained by one idea--thatthey were flying from wickedness and disgrace, and that she could saveher grandfather only by her firmness unaided by one word of advice orany helping hand; the old man following her as thoug
h she had been anangel messenger sent to lead him where she would.
The hardest part of all their wanderings was now before them. They sleptin the open air that night, and on the following morning some menoffered to take them a long distance on their barge on the river. Thesemen, though they were not unkindly, were very rugged, noisy fellows, andthey drank and quarreled fearfully among themselves, to Nell'sinexpressible terror. It rained, too, heavily, and she was wet andcold. At last they reached the great city whither the barge was bound,and here they wandered up and down, being now penniless, and watched thefaces of those who passed, to find among them a ray of encouragement orhope. Ill in body, and sick to death at heart, the child needed herutmost courage and will even to creep along.
They lay down that night, and the next night too, with nothing betweenthem and the sky; a penny loaf was all they had had that day, and whenthe third morning came, it found the child much weaker, yet she made nocomplaint. The great city with its many factories hemmed them in onevery side, and seemed to shut out hope.
Faint and spiritless as they were, its streets were terrible to them.After humbly asking for relief at some few doors, and being driven away,they agreed to make their way out of it as speedily as they could, andtry if the people living in some lone house beyond would have more pityon their worn out state.
They were dragging themselves along through the last street, and thechild felt that the time was close at hand when her enfeebled powerswould bear no more. There appeared before them, at this moment, going inthe same direction as themselves, a traveler on foot, who, with abundle of clothing strapped to his back, leaned upon a stout stick as hewalked, and read from a book which he held in his other hand.
It was not an easy matter to come up with him and ask his aid, for hewalked fast, and was a little distance in advance. At length he stopped,to look more attentively at some passage in his book. Encouraged by aray of hope, the child shot on before her grandfather, and, going closeto the stranger without rousing him by the sound of her footsteps,began, in a few faint words, to beg his help.
He turned his head. The child clapped her hands together, uttered a wildshriek, and fell senseless at his feet.
It was the poor schoolmaster. No other than the poor schoolmaster.Scarcely less moved and surprised by the sight of the child than she hadbeen on recognizing him, he stood, for a moment, silent, without eventhe presence of mind to raise her from the ground.
But, quickly recovering himself, he threw down his stick and book, and,dropping on one knee beside her, tried simple means as came to his mind,to restore her to herself; while her grandfather, standing idly by,wrung his hands, and begged her, with many words of love, to speak tohim, were it only a whisper.
"She appears to be quite worn out," said the schoolmaster, glancingupward into his face. "You have used up all her strength, friend."
"She is dying of want," answered the old man. "I never thought how weakand ill she was till now."
Casting a look upon him, half-angry and half-pitiful, the schoolmastertook the child in his arms, and, bidding the old man gather up herlittle basket and follow him directly, bore her away at his utmostspeed.
There was a small inn within sight, to which, it would seem, he had beenwalking when so unexpectedly overtaken. Toward this place he hurriedwith his unconscious burden, and rushing into the kitchen, and callingupon the company there assembled to make way for God's sake, laid itdown on a chair before the fire.
The company, who rose in confusion on the schoolmaster's entrance, didas people usually do under such circumstances. Everybody called for hisor her favorite remedy, which nobody brought; each cried for more air,at the same time carefully shutting out what air there was, by closinground the object of sympathy; and all wondered why somebody else didn'tdo what it never appeared to occur to them might be done by themselves.
The landlady, however, who had more readiness and activity than any ofthem, and who seemed to understand the case more quickly, soon camerunning in, with a little hot medicine, followed by her servant-girl,carrying vinegar, hartshorn, smelling-salts, and such otherrestoratives; which, being duly given, helped the child so far as toenable her to thank them in a faint voice, and to hold out her hand tothe poor schoolmaster, who stood, with an anxious face, near her side.Without suffering her to speak another word, or so much as to stir afinger any more, the women straightway carried her off to bed; and,having covered her up warm, bathed her cold feet, and wrapped them inflannel, they sent a messenger for the doctor.
The doctor, who was a red-nosed gentleman with a great bunch of sealsdangling below a waistcoat of ribbed black satin, arrived with allspeed, and taking his seat by the bedside of poor Nell, drew out hiswatch, and felt her pulse. Then he looked at her tongue, then he felther pulse again, and while he did so, he eyed the half-emptiedwine-glass as if in profound abstraction.
"I should give her," said the doctor at length, "a teaspoonful, everynow and then, of hot medicine."
"Why, that's exactly what we've done, sir!" said the delighted landlady.
"I should also," observed the doctor, who had passed the foot-bath onthe stairs, "I should also," said the doctor, in a very wise tone ofvoice, "put her feet in hot water and wrap them up in flannel. I shouldlikewise," said the doctor, with increased solemnity, "give hersomething light for supper--the wing of a roasted chicken now------"
"Why, goodness gracious me, sir, it's cooking at the kitchen fire thisinstant!" cried the landlady. And so indeed it was, for the schoolmasterhad ordered it to be put down, and it was getting on so well that thedoctor might have smelled it if he had tried; perhaps he did.
"You may then," said the doctor, rising gravely, "give her a glass ofhot mulled port-wine, if she likes wine------"
"And a piece of toast, sir?" suggested the landlady.
"Ay," said the doctor, in a very dignified tone, "And a toast--of bread.But be very particular to make it of bread, if you please, ma'am."
With which parting advice, slowly and solemnly given, the doctordeparted, leaving the whole house in admiration of that wisdom whichagreed so closely with their own. Everybody said he was a very shrewddoctor indeed, and knew perfectly what people's bodies needed; whichthere appears some reason to suppose he did.
While her supper was preparing, the child fell into a refreshing sleep,from which they were obliged to rouse her when it was ready. As sheshowed extraordinary uneasiness on learning that her grandfather wasbelow stairs, and as she was greatly troubled at the thought of theirbeing apart, he took his supper with her. Finding her still very anxiousfor the old man, they made him up a bed in an inner room, to which hesoon went. The key of this room happened by good-fortune to be on thatside of the door which was in Nell's room; she turned it on him when thelandlady had withdrawn, and crept to bed again with a thankful heart.
The schoolmaster sat for a long time smoking his pipe by the kitchenfire, which was now deserted, thinking, with a very happy face, on thefortunate chance which had brought him at just the right moment to thechild's assistance.
The schoolmaster, as it appeared, was on his way to a new home. Andwhen the child had recovered somewhat from her hunger and weariness, itwas arranged that she and her grandfather should go with him to thevillage whither he was bound, and that he should endeavor to find themsome work by which they could get their living.
It was a lonely little village, lying among the quiet country scenesNell loved. And here, her grandfather being peaceful and at rest, agreat calm fell upon the spirit of the child. Often she would steal intothe church, and, sitting down among the quiet figures carved upon thetombs, would think of the summer days and the bright spring-time thatwould come; of the rays of sun that would fall in, aslant those sleepingforms; of the songs of birds, and the sweet air that would steal in.What if the spot awakened thoughts of death! It would be no pain tosleep amid such sights and sounds as these. For the time was drawingnearer every day when Nell was to rest indeed. She never murmured orcomplained, but faded like a li
ght upon a summer's evening and died. Dayafter day and all day long, the old man, broken-hearted and with no loveor care for anything in life, would sit beside her grave with her strawhat and the little basket she had been used to carry, waiting till sheshould come to him again. At last they found him lying dead upon thestone. And in the church where they had often prayed and mused andlingered, hand in hand, the child and the old man slept together.
FOOTNOTE:
[C] The Lord Chancellor, it may be explained, is the highest judge inthe courts of England; and when in court always wears a great wig and arobe.