Chapter II
Aunt Glegg Learns the Breadth of Bob's Thumb
While Maggie's life-struggles had lain almost entirely within her ownsoul, one shadowy army fighting another, and the slain shadows foreverrising again, Tom was engaged in a dustier, noisier warfare, grapplingwith more substantial obstacles, and gaining more definite conquests.So it has been since the days of Hecuba, and of Hector, Tamer ofhorses; inside the gates, the women with streaming hair and upliftedhands offering prayers, watching the world's combat from afar, fillingtheir long, empty days with memories and fears; outside, the men, infierce struggle with things divine and human, quenching memory in thestronger light of purpose, losing the sense of dread and even ofwounds in the hurrying ardor of action.
From what you have seen of Tom, I think he is not a youth of whom youwould prophesy failure in anything he had thoroughly wished; thewagers are likely to be on his side, notwithstanding his small successin the classics. For Tom had never desired success in this field ofenterprise; and for getting a fine flourishing growth of stupiditythere is nothing like pouring out on a mind a good amount of subjectsin which it feels no interest. But now Tom's strong will boundtogether his integrity, his pride, his family regrets, and hispersonal ambition, and made them one force, concentrating his effortsand surmounting discouragements. His uncle Deane, who watched himclosely, soon began to conceive hopes of him, and to be rather proudthat he had brought into the employment of the firm a nephew whoappeared to be made of such good commercial stuff. The real kindnessof placing him in the warehouse first was soon evident to Tom, in thehints his uncle began to throw out, that after a time he might perhapsbe trusted to travel at certain seasons, and buy in for the firmvarious vulgar commodities with which I need not shock refined ears inthis place; and it was doubtless with a view to this result that Mr.Deane, when he expected to take his wine alone, would tell Tom to stepin and sit with him an hour, and would pass that hour in muchlecturing and catechising concerning articles of export and import,with an occasional excursus of more indirect utility on the relativeadvantages to the merchants of St. Ogg's of having goods brought intheir own and in foreign bottoms,--a subject on which Mr. Deane, as aship-owner, naturally threw off a few sparks when he got warmed withtalk and wine.
Already, in the second year, Tom's salary was raised; but all, exceptthe price of his dinner and clothes, went home into the tin box; andhe shunned comradeship, lest it should lead him into expenses in spiteof himself. Not that Tom was moulded on the spoony type of theIndustrious Apprentice; he had a very strong appetite forpleasure,--would have liked to be a Tamer of horses and to make adistinguished figure in all neighboring eyes, dispensing treats andbenefits to others with well-judged liberality, and being pronouncedone of the finest young fellows of those parts; nay, he determined toachieve these things sooner or later; but his practical shrewdnesstold him that the means no such achievements could only lie for him inpresent abstinence and self-denial; there were certain milestones tobe passed, and one of the first was the payment of his father's debts.Having made up his mind on that point, he strode along withoutswerving, contracting some rather saturnine sternness, as a young manis likely to do who has a premature call upon him for self-reliance.Tom felt intensely that common cause with his father which springsfrom family pride, and was bent on being irreproachable as a son buthis growing experience caused him to pass much silent criticism on therashness and imprudence of his father's past conduct; theirdispositions were not in sympathy, and Tom's face showed littleradiance during his few home hours. Maggie had an awe of him, againstwhich she struggled as something unfair to her consciousness of widerthoughts and deeper motives; but it was of no use to struggle. Acharacter at unity with itself--that performs what it intends, subduesevery counteracting impulse, and has no visions beyond the distinctlypossible--is strong by its very negations.
You may imagine that Tom's more and more obvious unlikeness to hisfather was well fitted to conciliate the maternal aunts and uncles;and Mr. Deane's favorable reports and predictions to Mr. Gleggconcerning Tom's qualifications for business began to be discussedamongst them with various acceptance. He was likely, it appeared, todo the family credit without causing it any expense and trouble. Mrs.Pullet had always thought it strange if Tom's excellent complexion, soentirely that of the Dodsons, did not argue a certainty that he wouldturn out well; his juvenile errors of running down the peacock, andgeneral disrespect to his aunts, only indicating a tinge of Tulliverblood which he had doubtless outgrown. Mr. Glegg, who had contracted acautious liking for Tom ever since his spirited and sensible behaviorwhen the execution was in the house, was now warming into a resolutionto further his prospects actively,--some time, when an opportunityoffered of doing so in a prudent manner, without ultimate loss; butMrs. Glegg observed that she was not given to speak without book, assome people were; that those who said least were most likely to findtheir words made good; and that when the right moment came, it wouldbe seen who could do something better than talk. Uncle Pullet, aftersilent meditation for a period of several lozenges, came distinctly tothe conclusion, that when a young man was likely to do well, it wasbetter not to meddle with him.
Tom, meanwhile, had shown no disposition to rely on any one buthimself, though, with a natural sensitiveness toward all indicationsof favorable opinion, he was glad to see his uncle Glegg look in onhim sometimes in a friendly way during business hours, and glad to beinvited to dine at his house, though he usually preferred declining onthe ground that he was not sure of being punctual. But about a yearago, something had occurred which induced Tom to test his uncleGlegg's friendly disposition.
Bob Jakin, who rarely returned from one of his rounds without seeingTom and Maggie, awaited him on the bridge as he was coming home fromSt. Ogg's one evening, that they might have a little private talk. Hetook the liberty of asking if Mr. Tom had ever thought of making moneyby trading a bit on his own account. Trading, how? Tom wished to know.Why, by sending out a bit of a cargo to foreign ports; because Bob hada particular friend who had offered to do a little business for him inthat way in Laceham goods, and would be glad to serve Mr. Tom on thesame footing. Tom was interested at once, and begged for fullexplanation, wondering he had not thought of this plan before.
He was so well pleased with the prospect of a speculation that mightchange the slow process of addition into multiplication, that he atonce determined to mention the matter to his father, and get hisconsent to appropriate some of the savings in the tin box to thepurchase of a small cargo. He would rather not have consulted hisfather, but he had just paid his last quarter's money into the tinbox, and there was no other resource. All the savings were there; forMr. Tulliver would not consent to put the money out at interest lesthe should lose it. Since he had speculated in the purchase of somecorn, and had lost by it, he could not be easy without keeping themoney under his eye.
Tom approached the subject carefully, as he was seated on the hearthwith his father that evening, and Mr. Tulliver listened, leaningforward in his arm-chair and looking up in Tom's face with a scepticalglance. His first impulse was to give a positive refusal, but he wasin some awe of Tom's wishes, and since he had the sense of being an”unlucky” father, he had lost some of his old peremptoriness anddetermination to be master. He took the key of the bureau from hispocket, got out the key of the large chest, and fetched down the tinbox,--slowly, as if he were trying to defer the moment of a painfulparting. Then he seated himself against the table, and opened the boxwith that little padlock-key which he fingered in his waistcoat pocketin all vacant moments. There they were, the dingy bank-notes and thebright sovereigns, and he counted them out on the table--only ahundred and sixteen pounds in two years, after all the pinching.
”How much do you want, then?” he said, speaking as if the words burnthis lips.
”Suppose I begin with the thirty-six pounds, father?” said Tom.
Mr. Tulliver separated this sum from the rest, and keeping his handover it, said:
”It's as much as I can save out o' my pay in a year.”
”Yes, father; it is such slow work, saving out of the little money weget. And in this way we might double our savings.”
”Ay, my lad,” said the father, keeping his hand on the money, ”but youmight lose it,--you might lose a year o' my life,--and I haven't gotmany.”
Tom was silent.
”And you know I wouldn't pay a dividend with the first hundred,because I wanted to see it all in a lump,--and when I see it, I'm sureon't. If you trust to luck, it's sure to be against me. It's OldHarry's got the luck in his hands; and if I lose one year, I shallnever pick it up again; death 'ull o'ertake me.”
Mr. Tulliver's voice trembled, and Tom was silent for a few minutesbefore he said:
”I'll give it up, father, since you object to it so strongly.”
But, unwilling to abandon the scheme altogether, he determined to askhis uncle Glegg to venture twenty pounds, on condition of receivingfive per cent. of the profits. That was really a very small thing toask. So when Bob called the next day at the wharf to know thedecision, Tom proposed that they should go together to his uncleGlegg's to open the business; for his diffident pride clung to him,and made him feel that Bobs' tongue would relieve him from someembarrassment.
Mr. Glegg, at the pleasant hour of four in the afternoon of a hotAugust day, was naturally counting his wall-fruit to assure himselfthat the sum total had not varied since yesterday. To him entered Tom,in what appeared to Mr. Glegg very questionable companionship,--thatof a man with a pack on his back,--for Bob was equipped for a newjourney,--and of a huge brindled bull-terrier, who walked with a slow,swaying movement from side to side, and glanced from under hiseye-lids with a surly indifference which might after all be a cover tothe most offensive designs.
Mr. Glegg's spectacles, which had been assisting him in counting thefruit, made these suspicious details alarmingly evident to him.
”Heigh! heigh! keep that dog back, will you?” he shouted, snatching upa stake and holding it before him as a shield when the visitors werewithin three yards of him.
”Get out wi' you, Mumps,” said Bob, with a kick. ”He's as quiet as alamb, sir,”--an observation which Mumps corroborated by a low growl ashe retreated behind his master's legs.
”Why, what ever does this mean, Tom?” said Mr. Glegg. ”Have youbrought information about the scoundrels as cut my trees?” If Bob camein the character of ”information,” Mr. Glegg saw reasons fortolerating some irregularity.
”No, sir,” said Tom; ”I came to speak to you about a little matter ofbusiness of my own.”
”Ay--well; but what has this dog got to do with it?” said the oldgentleman, getting mild again.
”It's my dog, sir,” said the ready Bob. ”An' it's me as put Mr. Tom upto the bit o' business; for Mr. Tom's been a friend o' mine iver sinceI was a little chap; fust thing iver I did was frightenin' the birdsfor th' old master. An' if a bit o' luck turns up, I'm allays thinkin'if I can let Mr. Tom have a pull at it. An' it's a downright roarin'shame, as when he's got the chance o' making a bit o' money wi'sending goods out,--ten or twelve per zent clear, when freight an'commission's paid,--as he shouldn't lay hold o' the chance for want o'money. An' when there's the Laceham goods,--lors! they're made o'purpose for folks as want to send out a little carguy; light, an' takeup no room,--you may pack twenty pound so as you can't see thepassill; an' they're manifacturs as please fools, so I reckon theyaren't like to want a market. An' I'd go to Laceham an' buy in thegoods for Mr. Tom along wi' my own. An' there's the shupercargo o' thebit of a vessel as is goin' to take 'em out. I know him partic'lar;he's a solid man, an' got a family i' the town here. Salt, his nameis,--an' a briny chap he is too,--an' if you don't believe me, I cantake you to him.”
Uncle Glegg stood open-mouthed with astonishment at this unembarrassedloquacity, with which his understanding could hardly keep pace. Helooked at Bob, first over his spectacles, then through them, then overthem again; while Tom, doubtful of his uncle's impression, began towish he had not brought this singular Aaron, or mouthpiece. Bob's talkappeared less seemly, now some one besides himself was listening toit.
”You seem to be a knowing fellow,” said Mr. Glegg, at last.
”Ay, sir, you say true,” returned Bob, nodding his head aside; ”Ithink my head's all alive inside like an old cheese, for I'm so fullo' plans, one knocks another over. If I hadn't Mumps to talk to, Ishould get top-heavy an' tumble in a fit. I suppose it's because Iniver went to school much. That's what I jaw my old mother for. Isays, 'You should ha' sent me to school a bit more,' I says, 'an' thenI could ha' read i' the books like fun, an' kep' my head cool an'empty.' Lors, she's fine an' comfor'ble now, my old mother is; sheates her baked meat an' taters as often as she likes. For I'm gettin'so full o' money, I must hev a wife to spend it for me. But it'sbotherin,' a wife is,--and Mumps mightn't like her.”
Uncle Glegg, who regarded himself as a jocose man since he had retiredfrom business, was beginning to find Bob amusing, but he had still adisapproving observation to make, which kept his face serious.
”Ah,” he said, ”I should think you're at a loss for ways o' spendingyour money, else you wouldn't keep that big dog, to eat as much as twoChristians. It's shameful--shameful!” But he spoke more in sorrow thanin anger, and quickly added:
”But, come now, let's hear more about this business, Tom. I supposeyou want a little sum to make a venture with. But where's all your ownmoney? You don't spend it all--eh?”
”No, sir,” said Tom, coloring; ”but my father is unwilling to risk it,and I don't like to press him. If I could get twenty or thirty poundsto begin with, I could pay five per cent for it, and then I couldgradually make a little capital of my own, and do without a loan.”
”Ay--ay,” said Mr. Glegg, in an approving tone; ”that's not a badnotion, and I won't say as I wouldn't be your man. But it 'ull be aswell for me to see this Salt, as you talk on. And then--here's thisfriend o' yours offers to buy the goods for you. Perhaps you've gotsomebody to stand surety for you if the money's put into your hands?”added the cautious old gentleman, looking over his spectacles at Bob.
”I don't think that's necessary, uncle,” said Tom. ”At least, I meanit would not be necessary for me, because I know Bob well; but perhapsit would be right for you to have some security.”
”You get your percentage out o' the purchase, I suppose?” said Mr.Glegg, looking at Bob.
”No, sir,” said Bob, rather indignantly; ”I didn't offer to get aapple for Mr. Tom, o' purpose to hev a bite out of it myself. When Iplay folks tricks, there'll be more fun in 'em nor that.”
”Well, but it's nothing but right you should have a small percentage,”said Mr. Glegg. ”I've no opinion o' transactions where folks do thingsfor nothing. It allays looks bad.”
”Well, then,” said Bob, whose keenness saw at once what was implied,”I'll tell you what I get by't, an' it's money in my pocket in theend,--I make myself look big, wi' makin' a bigger purchase. That'swhat I'm thinking on. Lors! I'm a 'cute chap,--I am.”
”Mr. Glegg, Mr. Glegg!” said a severe voice from the open parlorwindow, ”pray are you coming in to tea, or are you going to standtalking with packmen till you get murdered in the open daylight?”
”Murdered?” said Mr. Glegg; ”what's the woman talking of? Here's yournephey Tom come about a bit o' business.”
”Murdered,--yes,--it isn't many 'sizes ago since a packman murdered ayoung woman in a lone place, and stole her thimble, and threw her bodyinto a ditch.”
”Nay, nay,” said Mr. Glegg, soothingly, ”you're thinking o' the manwi' no legs, as drove a dog-cart.”
”Well, it's the same thing, Mr. Glegg, only you're fond o'contradicting what I say; and if my nephey's come about business, it'ud be more fitting if you'd bring him into the house, and let hisaunt know about it, instead o' whispering in corners, in thatplotting, underminding way.”
”Well, well,” said Mr. Glegg, ”we'll come in now.”
”You needn't stay here,” said the lady to Bob, in a loud voice,adapted to the moral, not the physical, distance between them. ”Wedon't want anything. I don't deal wi' packmen. Mind you shut the gateafter you.”
”Stop a bit; not so fast,” said Mr. Glegg; ”I haven't done with thisyoung man yet. Come in, Tom; come in,” he added, stepping in at theFrench window.
”Mr. Glegg,” said Mrs. G., in a fatal tone, ”if you're going to letthat man and his dog in on my carpet, before my very face, be so goodas to let me know. A wife's got a right to ask that, I hope.”
”Don't you be uneasy, mum,” said Bob, touching his cap. He saw at oncethat Mrs. Glegg was a bit of game worth running down, and longed to beat the sport; ”we'll stay out upo' the gravel here,--Mumps and mewill. Mumps knows his company,--he does. I might hish at him by th'hour together, before he'd fly at a real gentlewoman like you. It'swonderful how he knows which is the good-looking ladies; and'spartic'lar fond of 'em when they've good shapes. Lors!” added Bob,laying down his pack on the gravel, ”it's a thousand pities such alady as you shouldn't deal with a packman, i' stead o' goin' intothese newfangled shops, where there's half-a-dozen fine gents wi'their chins propped up wi' a stiff stock, a-looking like bottles wi'ornamental stoppers, an' all got to get their dinner out of a bit o'calico; it stan's to reason you must pay three times the price you paya packman, as is the nat'ral way o' gettin' goods,--an' pays no rent,an' isn't forced to throttle himself till the lies are squeezed out onhim, whether he will or no. But lors! mum, you know what it is betternor I do,--_you_ can see through them shopmen, I'll be bound.”
”Yes, I reckon I can, and through the packmen too,” observed Mrs.Glegg, intending to imply that Bob's flattery had produced no effecton _her;_ while her husband, standing behind her with his hands in hispockets and legs apart, winked and smiled with conjugal delight at theprobability of his wife's being circumvented.
”Ay, to be sure, mum,” said Bob. ”Why, you must ha' dealt wi' no endo' packmen when you war a young lass--before the master here had theluck to set eyes on you. I know where you lived, I do,--seen th' housemany a time,--close upon Squire Darleigh's,--a stone house wi'steps----”
”Ah, that it had,” said Mrs. Glegg, pouring out the tea. ”You knowsomething o' my family, then? Are you akin to that packman with asquint in his eye, as used to bring th' Irish linen?”
”Look you there now!” said Bob, evasively. ”Didn't I know as you'dremember the best bargains you've made in your life was made wi'packmen? Why, you see even a squintin' packman's better nor a shopmanas can see straight. Lors! if I'd had the luck to call at the stonehouse wi' my pack, as lies here,”--stooping and thumping the bundleemphatically with his fist,--”an' th' handsome young lasses allstannin' out on the stone steps, it ud' ha' been summat like openin' apack, that would. It's on'y the poor houses now as a packman calls on,if it isn't for the sake o' the sarvant-maids. They're paltry times,these are. Why, mum, look at the printed cottons now, an' what theywas when you wore 'em,--why, you wouldn't put such a thing on now, Ican see. It must be first-rate quality, the manifactur as you'dbuy,--summat as 'ud wear as well as your own faitures.”
”Yes, better quality nor any you're like to carry; you've got nothingfirst-rate but brazenness, I'll be bound,” said Mrs. Glegg, with atriumphant sense of her insurmountable sagacity. ”Mr. Glegg, are yougoing ever to sit down to your tea? Tom, there's a cup for you.”
”You speak true there, mum,” said Bob. ”My pack isn't for ladies likeyou. The time's gone by for that. Bargains picked up dirt cheap! A bito' damage here an' there, as can be cut out, or else niver seen i' thewearin', but not fit to offer to rich folks as can pay for the look o'things as nobody sees. I'm not the man as 'ud offer t' open my pack to_you_, mum; no, no; I'm a imperent chap, as you say,--these timesmakes folks imperent,--but I'm not up to the mark o' that.”
”Why, what goods do you carry in your pack?” said Mrs. Glegg.”Fine-colored things, I suppose,--shawls an' that?”
”All sorts, mum, all sorts,” said Bob,--thumping his bundle; ”but letus say no more about that, if _you_ please. I'm here upo' Mr. Tom'sbusiness, an' I'm not the man to take up the time wi' my own.”
”And pray, what _is_ this business as is to be kept from me?” saidMrs. Glegg, who, solicited by a double curiosity, was obliged to letthe one-half wait.
”A little plan o' nephey Tom's here,” said good-natured Mr. Glegg;”and not altogether a bad 'un, I think. A little plan for makingmoney; that's the right sort o' plan for young folks as have got theirfortin to make, eh, Jane?”
”But I hope it isn't a plan where he expects iverything to be done forhim by his friends; that's what the young folks think of mostlynowadays. And pray, what has this packman got to do wi' what goes onin our family? Can't you speak for yourself, Tom, and let your auntknow things, as a nephey should?”
”This is Bob Jakin, aunt,” said Tom, bridling the irritation that auntGlegg's voice always produced. ”I've known him ever since we werelittle boys. He's a very good fellow, and always ready to do me akindness. And he has had some experience in sending goods out,--asmall part of a cargo as a private speculation and he thinks if Icould begin to do a little in the same way, I might make some money. Alarge interest is got in that way.”
”Large int'rest?” said aunt Glegg, with eagerness; ”and what do youcall large int'rest?”
”Ten or twelve per cent, Bob says, after expenses are paid.”
”Then why wasn't I let to know o' such things before, Mr. Glegg?” saidMrs. Glegg, turning to her husband, with a deep grating tone ofreproach. ”Haven't you allays told me as there was no getting more norfive per cent?”
”Pooh, pooh, nonsense, my good woman,” said Mr. Glegg. ”You couldn'tgo into trade, could you? You can't get more than five per cent withsecurity.”
”But I can turn a bit o' money for you, an' welcome, mum,” said Bob,”if you'd like to risk it,--not as there's any risk to speak on. Butif you'd a mind to lend a bit o' money to Mr. Tom, he'd pay you six orseven per zent, an' get a trifle for himself as well; an' agood-natur'd lady like you 'ud like the feel o' the money better ifyour nephey took part on it.”
”What do you say, Mrs. G.?” said Mr. Glegg. ”I've a notion, when I'vemade a bit more inquiry, as I shall perhaps start Tom here with a bitof a nest-egg,--he'll pay me int'rest, you know,--an' if you've gotsome little sums lyin' idle twisted up in a stockin' toe, or that----”
”Mr. Glegg, it's beyond iverything! You'll go and give information tothe tramps next, as they may come and rob me.”
”Well, well, as I was sayin', if you like to join me wi' twentypounds, you can--I'll make it fifty. That'll be a pretty goodnest-egg, eh, Tom?”
”You're not counting on me, Mr. Glegg, I hope,” said his wife. ”Youcould do fine things wi' my money, I don't doubt.”
”Very well,” said Mr. Glegg, rather snappishly, ”then we'll do withoutyou. I shall go with you to see this Salt,” he added, turning to Bob.
”And now, I suppose, you'll go all the other way, Mr. Glegg,” saidMrs. G., ”and want to shut me out o' my own nephey's business. I neversaid I wouldn't put money into it,--I don't say as it shall be twentypounds, though you're so ready to say it for me,--but he'll see someday as his aunt's in the right not to risk the money she's saved forhim till it's proved as it won't be lost.”
”Ay, that's a pleasant sort o'risk, that is,” said Mr. Glegg,indiscreetly winking at Tom, who couldn't avoid smiling. But Bobstemmed the injured lady's outburst.
”Ay, mum,” he said admiringly, ”you know what's what--you do. An' it'snothing but fair. _You_ see how the first bit of a job answers, an'then you'll come down handsome. Lors, it's a fine thing to hev goodkin. I got my bit of a nest-egg, as the master calls it, all by my ownsharpness,--ten suvreigns it was,--wi' dousing the fire at Torry'smill, an' it's growed an' growed by a bit an' a bit, till I'n got amatter o' thirty pound to lay out, besides makin' my mothercomfor'ble. I should get more, on'y I'm such a soft wi' the women,--Ican't help lettin' 'em hev such good bargains. There's this bundle,now,” thumping it lustily, ”any other chap 'ud make a pretty penny outon it. But me!--lors, I shall sell 'em for pretty near what I paid for'em.”
”Have you got a bit of good net, now?” said Mrs. Glegg, in apatronizing tone, moving from the tea-table, and folding her napkin.
”Eh, mum, not what you'd think it worth your while to look at. I'dscorn to show it you. It 'ud be an insult to you.”
”But let me see,” said Mrs. Glegg, still patronizing. ”If they'redamaged goods, they're like enough to be a bit the better quality.”
”No, mum, I know my place,” said Bob, lifting up his pack andshouldering it. ”I'm not going t' expose the lowness o' my trade to alady like you. Packs is come down i' the world; it 'ud cut you to th'heart to see the difference. I'm at your sarvice, sir, when you've amind to go and see Salt.”
”All in good time,” said Mr. Glegg, really unwilling to cut short thedialogue. ”Are you wanted at the wharf, Tom?”
”No, sir; I left Stowe in my place.”
”Come, put down your pack, and let me see,” said Mrs. Glegg, drawing achair to the window and seating herself with much dignity.
”Don't you ask it, mum,” said Bob, entreatingly.
”Make no more words,” said Mrs. Glegg, severely, ”but do as I tellyou.”
”Eh mum, I'm loth, that I am,” said Bob, slowly depositing his pack onthe step, and beginning to untie it with unwilling fingers. ”But whatyou order shall be done” (much fumbling in pauses between thesentences). ”It's not as you'll buy a single thing on me,--I'd besorry for you to do it,--for think o' them poor women up i' thevillages there, as niver stir a hundred yards from home,--it 'ud be apity for anybody to buy up their bargains. Lors, it's as good as ajunketing to 'em when they see me wi' my pack, an' I shall niver pickup such bargains for 'em again. Least ways, I've no time now, for I'moff to Laceham. See here now,” Bob went on, becoming rapid again, andholding up a scarlet woollen Kerchief with an embroidered wreath inthe corner; ”here's a thing to make a lass's mouth water, an' on'y twoshillin'--an' why? Why, 'cause there's a bit of a moth-hole 'i thisplain end. Lors, I think the moths an' the mildew was sent byProvidence o' purpose to cheapen the goods a bit for the good-lookin'women as han't got much money. If it hadn't been for the moths, now,every hankicher on 'em 'ud ha' gone to the rich, handsome ladies, likeyou, mum, at five shillin' apiece,--not a farthin' less; but what doesthe moth do? Why, it nibbles off three shillin' o' the price i' notime; an' then a packman like me can carry 't to the poor lasses aslive under the dark thack, to make a bit of a blaze for 'em. Lors,it's as good as a fire, to look at such a hankicher!”
Bob held it at a distance for admiration, but Mrs. Glegg said sharply:
”Yes, but nobody wants a fire this time o' year. Put these coloredthings by; let me look at your nets, if you've got 'em.”
”Eh, mum, I told you how it 'ud be,” said Bob, flinging aside thecolored things with an air of desperation. ”I knowed it ud' turnagain' you to look at such paltry articles as I carry. Here's a pieceo' figured muslin now, what's the use o' you lookin' at it? You mightas well look at poor folks's victual, mum; it 'ud on'y take away yourappetite. There's a yard i' the middle on't as the pattern's allmissed,--lors, why, it's a muslin as the Princess Victoree might ha'wore; but,” added Bob, flinging it behind him on to the turf, as if tosave Mrs. Glegg's eyes, ”it'll be bought up by the huckster's wife atFibb's End,--that's where _it'll_ go--ten shillin' for the wholelot--ten yards, countin' the damaged un--five-an'-twenty shillin' 'udha' been the price, not a penny less. But I'll say no more, mum; it'snothing to you, a piece o' muslin like that; you can afford to paythree times the money for a thing as isn't half so good. It's nets_you_ talked on well, I've got a piece as 'ull serve you to make funon----”
”Bring me that muslin,” said Mrs. Glegg. ”It's a buff; I'm partial tobuff.”
”Eh, but a _damaged_ thing,” said Bob, in a tone of deprecatingdisgust. ”You'd do nothing with it, mum, you'd give it to the cook, Iknow you would, an' it 'ud be a pity,--she'd look too much like a ladyin it; it's unbecoming for servants.”
”Fetch it, and let me see you measure it,” said Mrs. Glegg,authoritatively.
Bob obeyed with ostentatious reluctance.
”See what there is over measure!” he said, holding forth the extrahalf-yard, while Mrs. Glegg was busy examining the damaged yard, andthrowing her head back to see how far the fault would be lost on adistant view.
”I'll give you six shilling for it,” she said, throwing it down withthe air of a person who mentions an ultimatum.
”Didn't I tell you now, mum, as it 'ud hurt your feelings to look atmy pack? That damaged bit's turned your stomach now; I see it has,”said Bob, wrapping the muslin up with the utmost quickness, andapparently about to fasten up his pack. ”You're used to seein' adifferent sort o' article carried by packmen, when you lived at thestone house. Packs is come down i' the world; I told you that; _my_goods are for common folks. Mrs. Pepper 'ull give me ten shillin' forthat muslin, an' be sorry as I didn't ask her more. Such articlesanswer i' the wearin',--they keep their color till the threads meltaway i' the wash-tub, an' that won't be while _I'm_ a young un.”
”Well, seven shilling,” said Mrs. Glegg.
”Put it out o' your mind, mum, now do,” said Bob. ”Here's a bit o'net, then, for you to look at before I tie up my pack, just for you tosee what my trade's come to,--spotted and sprigged, you see, beautifulbut yallow,--'s been lyin' by an' got the wrong color. I could niverha' bought such net, if it hadn't been yallow. Lors, it's took me adeal o' study to know the vally o' such articles; when I begun tocarry a pack, I was as ignirant as a pig; net or calico was all thesame to me. I thought them things the most vally as was the thickest.I was took in dreadful, for I'm a straightforrard chap,--up to notricks, mum. I can only say my nose is my own, for if I went beyond, Ishould lose myself pretty quick. An' I gev five-an'-eightpence forthat piece o' net,--if I was to tell y' anything else I should betellin' you fibs,--an' five-an'-eightpence I shall ask of it, not apenny more, for it's a woman's article, an' I like to 'commodate thewomen. Five-an'-eightpence for six yards,--as cheap as if it was onlythe dirt on it as was paid for.'”
”I don't mind having three yards of it,'” said Mrs. Glegg.
”Why, there's but six altogether,” said Bob. ”No, mum, it isn't worthyour while; you can go to the shop to-morrow an' get the same patternready whitened. It's on'y three times the money; what's that to a ladylike you?” He gave an emphatic tie to his bundle.
”Come, lay me out that muslin,” said Mrs. Glegg. ”Here's eightshilling for it.”
”You _will_ be jokin',” said Bob, looking up with a laughing face; ”Isee'd you was a pleasant lady when I fust come to the winder.”
”Well, put it me out,” said Mrs. Glegg, peremptorily.
”But if I let you have it for ten shillin', mum, you'll be so good asnot tell nobody. I should be a laughin'-stock; the trade 'ud hoot me,if they knowed it. I'm obliged to make believe as I ask more nor I dofor my goods, else they'd find out I was a flat. I'm glad you don'tinsist upo' buyin' the net, for then I should ha' lost my two bestbargains for Mrs. Pepper o' Fibb's End, an' she's a rare customer.”
”Let me look at the net again,” said Mrs. Glegg, yearning after thecheap spots and sprigs, now they were vanishing.
”Well, I can't deny _you_, mum,” said Bob handing it out.
”Eh!, see what a pattern now! Real Laceham goods. Now, this is thesort o' article I'm recommendin' Mr. Tom to send out. Lors, it's afine thing for anybody as has got a bit o' money; these Laceham goods'ud make it breed like maggits. If I was a lady wi' a bit o'money!--why, I know one as put thirty pounds into them goods,--a ladywi' a cork leg, but as sharp,--you wouldn't catch _her_ runnin' herhead into a sack; _she'd_ see her way clear out o' anything aforeshe'd be in a hurry to start. Well, she let out thirty pound to ayoung man in the drapering line, and he laid it out i' Laceham goods,an' a shupercargo o' my acquinetance (not Salt) took 'em out, an' shegot her eight per zent fust go off; an' now you can't hold her but shemust be sendin' out carguies wi' every ship, till she's gettin' asrich as a Jew. Bucks her name is, she doesn't live i' this town. Nowthen, mum, if you'll please to give me the net----”
”Here's fifteen shilling, then, for the two,” said Mrs. Glegg. ”Butit's a shameful price.”
”Nay, mum, you'll niver say that when you're upo' your knees i' churchi' five years' time. I'm makin' you a present o' th' articles; I am,indeed. That eightpence shaves off my profits as clean as a razor. Nowthen, sir,” continued Bob, shouldering his pack, ”if you please, I'llbe glad to go and see about makin' Mr. Tom's fortin. Eh, I wish I'dgot another twenty pound to lay out _my_sen; I shouldn't stay to saymy Catechism afore I knowed what to do wi't.”
”Stop a bit, Mr. Glegg,” said the lady, as her husband took his hat,”you never _will_ give me the chance o' speaking. You'll go away now,and finish everything about this business, and come back and tell meit's too late for me to speak. As if I wasn't my nephey's own aunt,and the head o' the family on his mother's side! and laid by guineas,all full weight, for him, as he'll know who to respect when I'm laidin my coffin.”
”Well, Mrs. G., say what you mean,” said Mr. G., hastily.
”Well, then, I desire as nothing may be done without my knowing. Idon't say as I sha'n't venture twenty pounds, if you make out aseverything's right and safe. And if I do, Tom,” concluded Mrs. Glegg,turning impressively to her nephew, ”I hope you'll allays bear it inmind and be grateful for such an aunt. I mean you to pay me interest,you know; I don't approve o' giving; we niver looked for that in _my_family.”
”Thank you, aunt,” said Tom, rather proudly. ”I prefer having themoney only lent to me.”
”Very well; that's the Dodson sperrit,” said Mrs. Glegg, rising to gether knitting with the sense that any further remark after this wouldbe bathos.
Salt--that eminently ”briny chap”--having been discovered in a cloudof tobacco-smoke at the Anchor Tavern, Mr. Glegg commenced inquirieswhich turned out satisfactorily enough to warrant the advance of the”nest-egg,” to which aunt Glegg contributed twenty pounds; and in thismodest beginning you see the ground of a fact which might otherwisesurprise you; namely, Tom's accumulation of a fund, unknown to hisfather, that promised in no very long time to meet the more tardyprocess of saving, and quite cover the deficit. When once hisattention had been turned to this source of gain, Tom determined tomake the most of it, and lost no opportunity of obtaining informationand extending his small enterprises. In not telling his father, he wasinfluenced by that strange mixture of opposite feelings which oftengives equal truth to those who blame an action and those who admireit,--partly, it was that disinclination to confidence which is seenbetween near kindred, that family repulsion which spoils the mostsacred relations of our lives; partly, it was the desire to surprisehis father with a great joy. He did not see that it would have beenbetter to soothe the interval with a new hope, and prevent thedelirium of a too sudden elation.
At the time of Maggie's first meeting with Philip, Tom had alreadynearly a hundred and fifty pounds of his own capital; and while theywere walking by the evening light in the Red Deeps, he, by the sameevening light, was riding into Laceham, proud of being on his firstjourney on behalf of Guest & Co., and revolving in his mind all thechances that by the end of another year he should have doubled hisgains, lifted off the obloquy of debt from his father's name, andperhaps--for he should be twenty-one--have got a new start forhimself, on a higher platform of employment. Did he not desire it? Hewas quite sure that he did.