Chapter 3
A PIECE OF WORK
Britannia, sitting meditating one fine day (perhaps in the attitude inwhich she is presented on the copper coinage), discovers all of a suddenthat she wants Veneering in Parliament. It occurs to her that Veneeringis 'a representative man'--which cannot in these times be doubted--andthat Her Majesty's faithful Commons are incomplete without him. So,Britannia mentions to a legal gentleman of her acquaintance that ifVeneering will 'put down' five thousand pounds, he may write a coupleof initial letters after his name at the extremely cheap rate of twothousand five hundred per letter. It is clearly understood betweenBritannia and the legal gentleman that nobody is to take up the fivethousand pounds, but that being put down they will disappear by magicalconjuration and enchantment.
The legal gentleman in Britannia's confidence going straight from thatlady to Veneering, thus commissioned, Veneering declares himself highlyflattered, but requires breathing time to ascertain 'whether his friendswill rally round him.' Above all things, he says, it behoves him to beclear, at a crisis of this importance, 'whether his friends will rallyround him.' The legal gentleman, in the interests of his client cannotallow much time for this purpose, as the lady rather thinks she knowssomebody prepared to put down six thousand pounds; but he says he willgive Veneering four hours.
Veneering then says to Mrs Veneering, 'We must work,' and throws himselfinto a Hansom cab. Mrs Veneering in the same moment relinquishes babyto Nurse; presses her aquiline hands upon her brow, to arrange thethrobbing intellect within; orders out the carriage; and repeats ina distracted and devoted manner, compounded of Ophelia and anyself-immolating female of antiquity you may prefer, 'We must work.'
Veneering having instructed his driver to charge at the Public in thestreets, like the Life-Guards at Waterloo, is driven furiously to DukeStreet, Saint James's. There, he finds Twemlow in his lodgings, freshfrom the hands of a secret artist who has been doing something to hishair with yolks of eggs. The process requiring that Twemlow shall, fortwo hours after the application, allow his hair to stick upright and drygradually, he is in an appropriate state for the receipt of startlingintelligence; looking equally like the Monument on Fish Street Hill, andKing Priam on a certain incendiary occasion not wholly unknown as a neatpoint from the classics.
'My dear Twemlow,' says Veneering, grasping both his hands, 'as thedearest and oldest of my friends--'
('Then there can be no more doubt about it in future,' thinks Twemlow,'and I AM!')
'--Are you of opinion that your cousin, Lord Snigsworth, would give hisname as a Member of my Committee? I don't go so far as to ask for hislordship; I only ask for his name. Do you think he would give me hisname?'
In sudden low spirits, Twemlow replies, 'I don't think he would.'
'My political opinions,' says Veneering, not previously aware of havingany, 'are identical with those of Lord Snigsworth, and perhaps as amatter of public feeling and public principle, Lord Snigsworth wouldgive me his name.'
'It might be so,' says Twemlow; 'but--' And perplexedly scratching hishead, forgetful of the yolks of eggs, is the more discomfited by beingreminded how stickey he is.
'Between such old and intimate friends as ourselves,' pursues Veneering,'there should in such a case be no reserve. Promise me that if I ask youto do anything for me which you don't like to do, or feel the slightestdifficulty in doing, you will freely tell me so.'
This, Twemlow is so kind as to promise, with every appearance of mostheartily intending to keep his word.
'Would you have any objection to write down to Snigsworthy Park, and askthis favour of Lord Snigsworth? Of course if it were granted I shouldknow that I owed it solely to you; while at the same time you would putit to Lord Snigsworth entirely upon public grounds. Would you have anyobjection?'
Says Twemlow, with his hand to his forehead, 'You have exacted a promisefrom me.'
'I have, my dear Twemlow.'
'And you expect me to keep it honourably.'
'I do, my dear Twemlow.'
'ON the whole, then;--observe me,' urges Twemlow with great nicety, asif; in the case of its having been off the whole, he would have done itdirectly--'ON the whole, I must beg you to excuse me from addressing anycommunication to Lord Snigsworth.'
'Bless you, bless you!' says Veneering; horribly disappointed, butgrasping him by both hands again, in a particularly fervent manner.
It is not to be wondered at that poor Twemlow should decline to inflicta letter on his noble cousin (who has gout in the temper), inasmuchas his noble cousin, who allows him a small annuity on which he lives,takes it out of him, as the phrase goes, in extreme severity; puttinghim, when he visits at Snigsworthy Park, under a kind of martial law;ordaining that he shall hang his hat on a particular peg, sit on aparticular chair, talk on particular subjects to particular people, andperform particular exercises: such as sounding the praises of the FamilyVarnish (not to say Pictures), and abstaining from the choicest of theFamily Wines unless expressly invited to partake.
'One thing, however, I CAN do for you,' says Twemlow; 'and that is, workfor you.'
Veneering blesses him again.
'I'll go,' says Twemlow, in a rising hurry of spirits, 'to theclub;--let us see now; what o'clock is it?'
'Twenty minutes to eleven.'
'I'll be,' says Twemlow, 'at the club by ten minutes to twelve, and I'llnever leave it all day.'
Veneering feels that his friends are rallying round him, and says,'Thank you, thank you. I knew I could rely upon you. I said to Anastatiabefore leaving home just now to come to you--of course the first friendI have seen on a subject so momentous to me, my dear Twemlow--I said toAnastatia, "We must work."'
'You were right, you were right,' replies Twemlow. 'Tell me. Is SHEworking?'
'She is,' says Veneering.
'Good!' cries Twemlow, polite little gentleman that he is. 'A woman'stact is invaluable. To have the dear sex with us, is to have everythingwith us.'
'But you have not imparted to me,' remarks Veneering, 'what you think ofmy entering the House of Commons?'
'I think,' rejoins Twemlow, feelingly, 'that it is the best club inLondon.'
Veneering again blesses him, plunges down stairs, rushes into hisHansom, and directs the driver to be up and at the British Public, andto charge into the City.
Meanwhile Twemlow, in an increasing hurry of spirits, gets his hair downas well as he can--which is not very well; for, after these glutinousapplications it is restive, and has a surface on it somewhat in thenature of pastry--and gets to the club by the appointed time. At theclub he promptly secures a large window, writing materials, and allthe newspapers, and establishes himself; immoveable, to be respectfullycontemplated by Pall Mall. Sometimes, when a man enters who nods tohim, Twemlow says, 'Do you know Veneering?' Man says, 'No; member ofthe club?' Twemlow says, 'Yes. Coming in for Pocket-Breaches.' Man says,'Ah! Hope he may find it worth the money!' yawns, and saunters out.Towards six o'clock of the afternoon, Twemlow begins to persuadehimself that he is positively jaded with work, and thinks it much to beregretted that he was not brought up as a Parliamentary agent.
From Twemlow's, Veneering dashes at Podsnap's place of business. FindsPodsnap reading the paper, standing, and inclined to be oratoricalover the astonishing discovery he has made, that Italy is not England.Respectfully entreats Podsnap's pardon for stopping the flow of hiswords of wisdom, and informs him what is in the wind. Tells Podsnap thattheir political opinions are identical. Gives Podsnap to understand thathe, Veneering, formed his political opinions while sitting at the feetof him, Podsnap. Seeks earnestly to know whether Podsnap 'will rallyround him?'
Says Podsnap, something sternly, 'Now, first of all, Veneering, do youask my advice?'
Veneering falters that as so old and so dear a friend--
'Yes, yes, that's all very well,' says Podsnap; 'but have you made upyour mind to take this borough of Pocket-Breaches on its own terms, ordo you ask my opinion whether you shall take it or leav
e it alone?'
Veneering repeats that his heart's desire and his soul's thirst are,that Podsnap shall rally round him.
'Now, I'll be plain with you, Veneering,' says Podsnap, knitting hisbrows. 'You will infer that I don't care about Parliament, from the factof my not being there?'
Why, of course Veneering knows that! Of course Veneering knows that ifPodsnap chose to go there, he would be there, in a space of time thatmight be stated by the light and thoughtless as a jiffy.
'It is not worth my while,' pursues Podsnap, becoming handsomelymollified, 'and it is the reverse of important to my position. But itis not my wish to set myself up as law for another man, differentlysituated. You think it IS worth YOUR while, and IS important to YOURposition. Is that so?'
Always with the proviso that Podsnap will rally round him, Veneeringthinks it is so.
'Then you don't ask my advice,' says Podsnap. 'Good. Then I won't giveit you. But you do ask my help. Good. Then I'll work for you.'
Veneering instantly blesses him, and apprises him that Twemlow isalready working. Podsnap does not quite approve that anybody shouldbe already working--regarding it rather in the light of a liberty--buttolerates Twemlow, and says he is a well-connected old female who willdo no harm.
'I have nothing very particular to do to-day,' adds Podsnap, 'and I'llmix with some influential people. I had engaged myself to dinner, butI'll send Mrs Podsnap and get off going myself; and I'll dine with youat eight. It's important we should report progress and compare notes.Now, let me see. You ought to have a couple of active energetic fellows,of gentlemanly manners, to go about.'
Veneering, after cogitation, thinks of Boots and Brewer.
'Whom I have met at your house,' says Podsnap. 'Yes. They'll do verywell. Let them each have a cab, and go about.'
Veneering immediately mentions what a blessing he feels it, to possessa friend capable of such grand administrative suggestions, and reallyis elated at this going about of Boots and Brewer, as an idea wearingan electioneering aspect and looking desperately like business. LeavingPodsnap, at a hand-gallop, he descends upon Boots and Brewer, whoenthusiastically rally round him by at once bolting off in cabs, takingopposite directions. Then Veneering repairs to the legal gentleman inBritannia's confidence, and with him transacts some delicate affairsof business, and issues an address to the independent electors ofPocket-Breaches, announcing that he is coming among them for theirsuffrages, as the mariner returns to the home of his early childhood: aphrase which is none the worse for his never having been near the placein his life, and not even now distinctly knowing where it is.
Mrs Veneering, during the same eventful hours, is not idle. No soonerdoes the carriage turn out, all complete, than she turns into it, allcomplete, and gives the word 'To Lady Tippins's.' That charmer dwellsover a staymaker's in the Belgravian Borders, with a life-size modelin the window on the ground floor of a distinguished beauty in a bluepetticoat, stay-lace in hand, looking over her shoulder at the town ininnocent surprise. As well she may, to find herself dressing under thecircumstances.
Lady Tippins at home? Lady Tippins at home, with the room darkened,and her back (like the lady's at the ground-floor window, though for adifferent reason) cunningly turned towards the light. Lady Tippins isso surprised by seeing her dear Mrs Veneering so early--in the middle ofthe night, the pretty creature calls it--that her eyelids almost go up,under the influence of that emotion.
To whom Mrs Veneering incoherently communicates, how that Veneeringhas been offered Pocket-Breaches; how that it is the time for rallyinground; how that Veneering has said 'We must work'; how that she is here,as a wife and mother, to entreat Lady Tippins to work; how that thecarriage is at Lady Tippins's disposal for purposes of work; how thatshe, proprietress of said bran new elegant equipage, will return home onfoot--on bleeding feet if need be--to work (not specifying how), untilshe drops by the side of baby's crib.
'My love,' says Lady Tippins, 'compose yourself; we'll bring him in.'And Lady Tippins really does work, and work the Veneering horses too;for she clatters about town all day, calling upon everybody she knows,and showing her entertaining powers and green fan to immense advantage,by rattling on with, My dear soul, what do you think? What doyou suppose me to be? You'll never guess. I'm pretending to be anelectioneering agent. And for what place of all places? Pocket-Breaches.And why? Because the dearest friend I have in the world has bought it.And who is the dearest friend I have in the world? A man of the name ofVeneering. Not omitting his wife, who is the other dearest friend I havein the world; and I positively declare I forgot their baby, who is theother. And we are carrying on this little farce to keep up appearances,and isn't it refreshing! Then, my precious child, the fun of it is thatnobody knows who these Veneerings are, and that they know nobody, andthat they have a house out of the Tales of the Genii, and give dinnersout of the Arabian Nights. Curious to see 'em, my dear? Say you'll know'em. Come and dine with 'em. They shan't bore you. Say who shall meetyou. We'll make up a party of our own, and I'll engage that they shallnot interfere with you for one single moment. You really ought to seetheir gold and silver camels. I call their dinner-table, the Caravan.Do come and dine with my Veneerings, my own Veneerings, my exclusiveproperty, the dearest friends I have in the world! And above all, mydear, be sure you promise me your vote and interest and all sorts ofplumpers for Pocket-Breaches; for we couldn't think of spending sixpenceon it, my love, and can only consent to be brought in by the spontaneousthingummies of the incorruptible whatdoyoucallums.
Now, the point of view seized by the bewitching Tippins, that this sameworking and rallying round is to keep up appearances, may have somethingin it, but not all the truth. More is done, or considered to bedone--which does as well--by taking cabs, and 'going about,' than thefair Tippins knew of. Many vast vague reputations have been made,solely by taking cabs and going about. This particularly obtains in allParliamentary affairs. Whether the business in hand be to get a man in,or get a man out, or get a man over, or promote a railway, or jockeya railway, or what else, nothing is understood to be so effectual asscouring nowhere in a violent hurry--in short, as taking cabs and goingabout.
Probably because this reason is in the air, Twemlow, far from beingsingular in his persuasion that he works like a Trojan, is capped byPodsnap, who in his turn is capped by Boots and Brewer. At eight o'clockwhen all these hard workers assemble to dine at Veneering's, it isunderstood that the cabs of Boots and Brewer mustn't leave the door, butthat pails of water must be brought from the nearest baiting-place,and cast over the horses' legs on the very spot, lest Boots and Brewershould have instant occasion to mount and away. Those fleet messengersrequire the Analytical to see that their hats are deposited where theycan be laid hold of at an instant's notice; and they dine (remarkablywell though) with the air of firemen in charge of an engine, expectingintelligence of some tremendous conflagration.
Mrs Veneering faintly remarks, as dinner opens, that many such dayswould be too much for her.
'Many such days would be too much for all of us,' says Podsnap; 'butwe'll bring him in!'
'We'll bring him in,' says Lady Tippins, sportively waving her greenfan. 'Veneering for ever!'
'We'll bring him in!' says Twemlow.
'We'll bring him in!' say Boots and Brewer.
Strictly speaking, it would be hard to show cause why they should notbring him in, Pocket-Breaches having closed its little bargain, andthere being no opposition. However, it is agreed that they must 'work'to the last, and that if they did not work, something indefinite wouldhappen. It is likewise agreed that they are all so exhausted with thework behind them, and need to be so fortified for the work before them,as to require peculiar strengthening from Veneering's cellar. Therefore,the Analytical has orders to produce the cream of the cream of hisbinns, and therefore it falls out that rallying becomes rather a tryingword for the occasion; Lady Tippins being observed gamely to inculcatethe necessity of rearing round their dear Veneering; Podsnap advocatingroaring round him; B
oots and Brewer declaring their intention of reelinground him; and Veneering thanking his devoted friends one and all, withgreat emotion, for rarullarulling round him.
In these inspiring moments, Brewer strikes out an idea which is thegreat hit of the day. He consults his watch, and says (like Guy Fawkes),he'll now go down to the House of Commons and see how things look.
'I'll keep about the lobby for an hour or so,' says Brewer, with adeeply mysterious countenance, 'and if things look well, I won't comeback, but will order my cab for nine in the morning.'
'You couldn't do better,' says Podsnap.
Veneering expresses his inability ever to acknowledge this last service.Tears stand in Mrs Veneering's affectionate eyes. Boots shows envy,loses ground, and is regarded as possessing a second-rate mind. They allcrowd to the door, to see Brewer off. Brewer says to his driver, 'Now,is your horse pretty fresh?' eyeing the animal with critical scrutiny.Driver says he's as fresh as butter. 'Put him along then,' says Brewer;'House of Commons.' Driver darts up, Brewer leaps in, they cheer him ashe departs, and Mr Podsnap says, 'Mark my words, sir. That's a man ofresource; that's a man to make his way in life.'
When the time comes for Veneering to deliver a neat and appropriatestammer to the men of Pocket-Breaches, only Podsnap and Twemlowaccompany him by railway to that sequestered spot. The legal gentlemanis at the Pocket-Breaches Branch Station, with an open carriage with aprinted bill 'Veneering for ever' stuck upon it, as if it were a wall;and they gloriously proceed, amidst the grins of the populace, to afeeble little town hall on crutches, with some onions and bootlacesunder it, which the legal gentleman says are a Market; and from thefront window of that edifice Veneering speaks to the listening earth.In the moment of his taking his hat off, Podsnap, as per agreement madewith Mrs Veneering, telegraphs to that wife and mother, 'He's up.'
Veneering loses his way in the usual No Thoroughfares of speech, andPodsnap and Twemlow say Hear hear! and sometimes, when he can't by anymeans back himself out of some very unlucky No Thoroughfare, 'He-a-a-rHe-a-a-r!' with an air of facetious conviction, as if the ingenuity ofthe thing gave them a sensation of exquisite pleasure. But Veneeringmakes two remarkably good points; so good, that they are supposedto have been suggested to him by the legal gentleman in Britannia'sconfidence, while briefly conferring on the stairs.
Point the first is this. Veneering institutes an original comparisonbetween the country, and a ship; pointedly calling the ship, the Vesselof the State, and the Minister the Man at the Helm. Veneering's objectis to let Pocket-Breaches know that his friend on his right (Podsnap) isa man of wealth. Consequently says he, 'And, gentlemen, when the timbersof the Vessel of the State are unsound and the Man at the Helm isunskilful, would those great Marine Insurers, who rank among ourworld-famed merchant-princes--would they insure her, gentlemen? Wouldthey underwrite her? Would they incur a risk in her? Would they haveconfidence in her? Why, gentlemen, if I appealed to my honourable friendupon my right, himself among the greatest and most respected of thatgreat and much respected class, he would answer No!'
Point the second is this. The telling fact that Twemlow is related toLord Snigsworth, must be let off. Veneering supposes a state of publicaffairs that probably never could by any possibility exist (though thisis not quite certain, in consequence of his picture being unintelligibleto himself and everybody else), and thus proceeds. 'Why, gentlemen, ifI were to indicate such a programme to any class of society, I say itwould be received with derision, would be pointed at by the finger ofscorn. If I indicated such a programme to any worthy and intelligenttradesman of your town--nay, I will here be personal, and say Ourtown--what would he reply? He would reply, "Away with it!" That's whatHE would reply, gentlemen. In his honest indignation he would reply,"Away with it!" But suppose I mounted higher in the social scale.Suppose I drew my arm through the arm of my respected friend upon myleft, and, walking with him through the ancestral woods of his family,and under the spreading beeches of Snigsworthy Park, approached thenoble hall, crossed the courtyard, entered by the door, went up thestaircase, and, passing from room to room, found myself at last inthe august presence of my friend's near kinsman, Lord Snigsworth. Andsuppose I said to that venerable earl, "My Lord, I am here before yourlordship, presented by your lordship's near kinsman, my friend upon myleft, to indicate that programme;" what would his lordship answer? Why,he would answer, "Away with it!" That's what he would answer, gentlemen."Away with it!" Unconsciously using, in his exalted sphere, the exactlanguage of the worthy and intelligent tradesman of our town, the nearand dear kinsman of my friend upon my left would answer in his wrath,"Away with it!"'
Veneering finishes with this last success, and Mr Podsnap telegraphs toMrs Veneering, 'He's down.'
Then, dinner is had at the Hotel with the legal gentleman, and thenthere are in due succession, nomination, and declaration. Finally MrPodsnap telegraphs to Mrs Veneering, 'We have brought him in.'
Another gorgeous dinner awaits them on their return to the Veneeringhalls, and Lady Tippins awaits them, and Boots and Brewer awaitthem. There is a modest assertion on everybody's part that everybodysingle-handed 'brought him in'; but in the main it is conceded by all,that that stroke of business on Brewer's part, in going down to thehouse that night to see how things looked, was the master-stroke.
A touching little incident is related by Mrs Veneering, in the course ofthe evening. Mrs Veneering is habitually disposed to be tearful, andhas an extra disposition that way after her late excitement. Previousto withdrawing from the dinner-table with Lady Tippins, she says, in apathetic and physically weak manner:
'You will all think it foolish of me, I know, but I must mention it. AsI sat by Baby's crib, on the night before the election, Baby was veryuneasy in her sleep.'
The Analytical chemist, who is gloomily looking on, has diabolicalimpulses to suggest 'Wind' and throw up his situation; but repressesthem.
'After an interval almost convulsive, Baby curled her little hands inone another and smiled.'
Mrs Veneering stopping here, Mr Podsnap deems it incumbent on him tosay: 'I wonder why!'
'Could it be, I asked myself,' says Mrs Veneering, looking about her forher pocket-handkerchief, 'that the Fairies were telling Baby that herpapa would shortly be an M. P.?'
So overcome by the sentiment is Mrs Veneering, that they all get upto make a clear stage for Veneering, who goes round the table to therescue, and bears her out backward, with her feet impressively scrapingthe carpet: after remarking that her work has been too much for herstrength. Whether the fairies made any mention of the five thousandpounds, and it disagreed with Baby, is not speculated upon.
Poor little Twemlow, quite done up, is touched, and still continuestouched after he is safely housed over the livery-stable yard inDuke Street, Saint James's. But there, upon his sofa, a tremendousconsideration breaks in upon the mild gentleman, putting all softerconsiderations to the rout.
'Gracious heavens! Now I have time to think of it, he never saw one ofhis constituents in all his days, until we saw them together!'
After having paced the room in distress of mind, with his hand to hisforehead, the innocent Twemlow returns to his sofa and moans:
'I shall either go distracted, or die, of this man. He comes upon me toolate in life. I am not strong enough to bear him!'