CHAPTER XIII.
THE WISDOM OF POPPINS.
George Robinson again walked upon roses, and for a while felt thathe had accomplished bliss. What has the world to offer equal to thejoy of gratified love? What triumph is there so triumphant as thatachieved by valour over beauty?
Take the goods the gods provide you. The lovely Thais sits beside you.
Was not that the happiest moment in Alexander's life. Was it notthe climax of all his glories, and the sweetest drop which Fortunepoured into his cup? George Robinson now felt himself to be a secondAlexander. Beside him the lovely Thais was seated evening afterevening; and he, with no measured stint, took the goods the godsprovided. He would think of the night of that supper in Smithfield,when the big Brisket sat next to his love, half hidden by herspreading flounces, and would remember how, in his spleen, he hadlikened his rival to an ox prepared for the sacrifice with garlands."Poor ignorant beast of the field!" he had said, apostrophizing theunconscious Brisket, "how little knowest thou how ill those flowersbecome thee, or for what purpose thou art thus caressed! They willtake from thee thy hide, thy fatness, all that thou hast, and dividethy carcase among them. And yet thou thinkest thyself happy! Poorfoolish beast of the field!" Now that ox had escaped from the toils,and a stag of the forest had been caught by his antlers, and wasbound for the altar. He knew all this, and yet he walked upon rosesand was happy. "Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof," he saidto himself. "The lovely Thais sits beside me. Shall I not take thegoods the gods provide me?"
The lovely Thais sat beside him evening after evening for nearlytwo months, up in Mr. Brown's parlour, but as yet nothing hadbeen decided as to the day of their marriage. Sometimes Mr. andMrs. Poppins would be there smiling, happy, and confidential; andsometimes Mr. and Mrs. Jones careworn, greedy, and suspicious. Onthose latter evenings the hours would all be spent in discussing theprofits of the shop and the fair division of the spoils. On thissubject Mrs. Jones would be very bitter, and even the lovely Thaiswould have an opinion of her own which seemed to be anything butagreeable to her father.
"Maryanne," her lover said to her one evening, when words had beenrather high among them, "if you want your days to be long in theland, you must honour your father and mother."
"I don't want my days to be long, if we're never to come to anunderstanding," she answered. "And I've got no mother, as you knowwell, or you wouldn't treat me so."
"You must understand, father," said Sarah Jane, "that things shan'tgo on like this. Jones shall have his rights, though he don'tseem half man enough to stand up for them. What's the meaning ofpartnership, if nobody's to know where the money goes to?"
"I've worked like a horse," said Jones. "I'm never out of that placefrom morning to night,--not so much as to get a pint of beer. And, asfar as I can see, I was better off when I was at Scrimble and Grutts.I did get my salary regular."
Mr. Brown was at this time in tears, and as he wept he lifted uphands. "My children, my children!" said he.
"That's all very well, father," said Maryanne. "But whimpering won'tkeep anybody's pot a-boiling. I'm sick of this sort of thing, and,to tell the truth, I think it quite time to see some sort of a houseover my head."
"Would that I could seat you in marble halls!" said George Robinson.
"Oh, bother!" said Maryanne. "That sort of a thing is very goodin a play, but business should be business." It must always beacknowledged, in favour of Mr. Brown's youngest daughter, that herviews were practical, and not over-strained by romance.
During these two or three months a considerable intimacy sprang upbetween Mr. Poppins and George Robinson. It was not that there wasany similarity in their characters, for in most respects they wereessentially unlike each other. But, perhaps, this very difference ledto their friendship. How often may it be observed in the fields thata high-bred, quick-paced horse will choose some lowly donkey for hisclose companionship, although other horses of equal birth and speedbe in the same pasture! Poppins was a young man of an easy nature andsoft temper, who was content to let things pass by him unquestioned,so long as they passed quietly. Live and let live, were words thatwere often on his lips;--by which he intended to signify that hewould overlook the peccadilloes of other people, as long as otherpeople overlooked his own. When the lady who became afterwards Mrs.Poppins had once called him a rascal, he had not with loud voiceasserted the injustice of the appellation, but had satisfied himselfwith explaining to her that, even were it so, he was still fit forher society. He possessed a practical philosophy of his own, bywhich he was able to steer his course in life. He was not, perhaps,prepared to give much to others, but neither did he expect thatmuch should be given to him. There was no ardent generosity in histemperament; but then, also, there was no malice or grasping avarice.If in one respect he differed much from our Mr. Robinson, so alsoin another respect did he differ equally from our Mr. Jones. Hewas at this time a counting-house clerk in a large wharfinger'sestablishment, and had married on a salary of eighty pounds a year."I tell you what it is, Robinson," said he, about this time: "I don'tunderstand this business of yours."
"No," said Robinson; "perhaps not. A business like ours is not easilyunderstood."
"You don't seem to me to divide any profits."
"In an affair of such magnitude the profits cannot be adjusted everyday, nor yet every month."
"But a man wants his bread and cheese every day. Now, there's oldBrown. He's a deal sharper than I took him for."
"Mr. Brown, for a commercial man of the old school, possessesconsiderable intelligence," said Robinson. Throughout all thesememoirs, it may be observed that Mr. Robinson always speaks withrespect of Mr. Brown.
"Very considerable indeed," said Poppins. "He seems to me to nobbleeverything. Perhaps that was the old school. The young school ain'tso very different in that respect;--only, perhaps, there isn't somuch for them to nobble."
"A regular division of our profits has been arranged for in our deedof partnership," said Robinson.
"That's uncommon nice, and very judicious," said Poppins.
"It was thought to be so by our law advisers," said Robinson.
"But yet, you see, old Brown nobbles the money. Now, if ever I goesinto partnership, I shall bargain to have the till for my share. Younever get near the till, do you?"
"I attend to quite another branch of the business," said Robinson.
"Then you're wrong. There's no branch of the business equal to theready money branch. Old Brown has lots of ready money always by himnow-a-days."
It certainly was the case that the cash received day by day over thecounter was taken by Mr. Brown from the drawers and deposited by himin the safe. The payments into the bank were made three times a week,and the checks were all drawn by Mr. Brown. None of these had everbeen drawn except on behalf of the business; but then the paymentsinto the bank had by no means tallied with the cash taken; andlatterly,--for the last month or so,--the statements of the dailycash taken had been very promiscuous. Some payments had, of course,been made both to Jones and Robinson for their own expenses, but thepayments made by Mr. Brown to himself had probably greatly exceededthese. He had a vague idea that he was supreme in money matters,because he had introduced "capital" into the firm. George Robinsonhad found it absolutely impossible to join himself in any league withJones, so that hitherto Mr. Brown had been able to carry out his owntheory. The motto, _Divide et impera_, was probably unknown to Mr.Brown in those words, but he had undoubtedly been acting on thewisdom which is conveyed in that doctrine.
Jones and his wife were preparing themselves for war, and it wasplain to see that a storm of battle would soon be raging. Robinsonalso was fully alive to the perils of his position, and anxious as hewas to remain on good terms with Mr. Brown, was aware that it wouldbe necessary for him to come to some understanding. In his difficultyhe had dropped some hints to his friend Poppins, not exactlyexplaining the source of his embarrassment, but saying enough to makethat gentleman understand the way in which the fi
rm was going on.
"I suppose you're in earnest about that girl," said Poppins. Poppinshad an offhand, irreverent way of speaking, especially on subjectswhich from their nature demanded delicacy, that was frequentlyshocking to Robinson.
"If you mean Miss Brown," said Robinson, in a tone of voice that wasintended to convey a rebuke, "I certainly am in earnest. My intentionis that she shall become Mrs. Robinson."
"But when?"
"As soon as prudence will permit and the lady will consent. MissBrown has never been used to hardship. For myself, I should littlecare what privations I might be called on to bear, but I could hardlyendure to see her in want."
"My advice to you is this. If you mean to marry her, do it at once.If you and she together can't manage the old man, you can't be worthyour salt. If you can do that, then you can throw Jones overboard."
"I am not in the least afraid of Jones."
"Perhaps not; but still you'd better mind your P's and Q's. It seemsto me that you and he and the young women are at sixes and sevens,and that's the reason why old Brown is able to nobble the money."
"I certainly should be happier," said Robinson, "if I were married,and things were settled."
"As to marriage," said Poppins, "my opinion is this; if a man has todo it, he might as well do it at once. They're always pecking at you;and a fellow feels that if he's in for it, what's the good of hisfighting it out?"
"I should never marry except for love," said Robinson.
"Nor I neither," said Poppins. "That is, I couldn't bring myself toput up with a hideous old hag, because she'd money. I should alwaysbe wanting to throttle her. But as long as they're young, and soft,and fresh, one can always love 'em;--at least I can."
"I never loved but one," said Robinson.
"There was a good many of them used to be pretty much the same to me.They was all very well; but as to breaking my heart about them,--why,it's a thing that I never understood."
"Do you know, Poppins, what I did twice,--ay, thrice,--in those darkdays?"
"What; when Brisket was after her?"
"Yes; when she used to say that she loved another. Thrice did Igo down to the river bank, intending to terminate this wretchedexistence."
"Did you now?"
"I swear to you that I did. But Providence, who foresaw the happinessthat is in store for me, withheld me from the leap."
"Polly once took up with a sergeant, and I can't say I liked it."
"And what did you do?"
"I got uncommon drunk, and then I knocked the daylight out of him.We've been the best of friends ever since. But about marrying;--ifa man is to do it, he'd better do it. It depends a good deal on theyoung woman, of course, and whether she's comfortable in her mind.Some women ain't comfortable, and then there's the devil to pay. Youdon't get enough to eat, and nothing to drink; and if ever you leaveyour pipe out of your pocket, she smashes it. I've know'd 'em of thatsort, and a man had better have the rheumatism constant."
"I don't think Maryanne is like that."
"Well; I can't say. Polly isn't. She's not over good, by no means,and would a deal sooner sit in a arm-chair and have her victuals andbeer brought to her, than she'd break her back by working too hard.She'd like to be always a-junketing, and that's what she's bestfor,--as is the case with many of 'em."
"I've seen her as sportive as a young fawn at the Hall of Harmony."
"But she ain't a young fawn any longer; and as for harmony, it's myidea that the less of harmony a young woman has the better. It makes'em give themselves airs, and think as how their ten fingers weremade to put into yellow gloves, and that a young man hasn't nothingto do but to stand treat, and whirl 'em about till he ain't ableto stand. A game's all very well, but bread and cheese is a dealbetter."
"I love to see beauty enjoying itself gracefully. My idea of a womanis incompatible with the hard work of the world. I would fain do thatmyself, so that she should ever be lovely."
"But she won't be lovely a bit the more. She'll grow old all thesame, and take to drink very like. When she's got a red nose and apimply face, and a sharp tongue, you'd be glad enough to see her atthe wash-tub then. I remember an old song as my father used to sing,but my mother couldn't endure to hear it.
Woman takes delight in abundance of pleasure, But a man's life is to labour and toil.
That's about the truth of it, and that's what comes of your Halls ofHarmony."
"You would like woman to be a household drudge."
"So I would,--only drudge don't sound well. Call her a ministeringangel instead, and it comes to the same thing. They both of 'emmeans much of a muchness;--getting up your linen decent, and seeingthat you have a bit of something hot when you come home late. Well,good-night, old fellow. I shall have my hair combed if I stay muchlonger. Take my advice, and as you mean to do it, do it at once. Anddon't let the old 'un nobble all the money. Live and let live. That'sfair play all over." And so Mr. Poppins took his leave.
Had anybody suggested to George Robinson that he should go to Poppinsfor advice as to his course of life, George Robinson would havescorned the suggestion. He knew very well the great differencebetween him and his humble friend, both as regarded worldly positionand intellectual attainments. But, nevertheless, there was a strainof wisdom in Poppins' remarks which, though it appertained wholly tomatters of low import, he did not disdain to use. It was true thatMaryanne Brown still frequented the Hall of Harmony, and went therequite as often without her betrothed as with him. It was true thatMr. Brown had adopted a habit of using the money of the firm, withoutrendering a fair account of the purpose to which he applied it.The Hall of Harmony might not be the best preparation for domesticduties, nor Mr. Brown's method of applying the funds the bestspecific for commercial success. He would look to both these things,and see that some reform were made. Indeed, he would reform them bothentirely by insisting on a division of the profits, and by takingMaryanne to his own bosom. Great ideas filled his mind. If any undueopposition were made to his wishes when expressed, he would leavethe firm, break up the business, and carry his now well-known geniusfor commercial enterprise to some other concern in which he might betreated with a juster appreciation of his merits.
"Not that I will ever leave thee, Maryanne," he said to himself, ashe resolved these things in his mind.