Is in part professional; and furnishes the reader with some
valuable hints in relation to the management of a sick chamber
MR. MOULD WAS SURROUNDED by his household gods. He was enjoying the sweets of
domestic repose, and gazing on them with a calm delight. The day being sultry,
and the window open, the legs of Mr. Mould were on the window-seat, and his back
reclined against the shutter. Over his shining head a handkerchief was drawn, to
guard his baldness from the flies. The room was fragrant with the smell of
punch, a tumbler of which grateful compound stood upon a small round table,
convenient to the hand of Mr. Mould; so deftly mixed that as his eye looked down
into the cool transparent drink, another eye, peering brightly from behind the
crisp lemon-peel, looked up at him, and twinkled like a star.
Deep in the City, and within the ward of Cheap, stood Mr. Mould's
establishment. His Harem, or, in other words, the common sitting room of Mrs.
Mould and family, was at the back, over the little counting-house behind the
shop: abutting on a churchyard small and shady. In this domestic chamber Mr.
Mould now sat; gazing, a placid man, upon his punch and home. If, for a moment
at a time, he sought a wider prospect, whence he might return with freshened
zest to these enjoyments, his moist glance wandered like a sunbeam through a
rural screen of scarlet runners, trained on strings before the window, and he
looked down, with an artist's eye, upon the graves.
The partner of his life, and daughters twain, were Mr. Mould's companions.
Plump as any partridge was each Miss Mould, and Mrs. M. was plumper than the two
together. So round and chubby were their fair proportions, that they might have
been the bodies once belonging to the angels' faces in the shop below, grown up,
with other heads attached to make them mortal. Even their peachy cheeks were
puffed out and distended, as though they ought of right to be performing on
celestial trumpets. The bodiless cherubs in the shop, who were depicted as
constantly blowing those instruments for ever and ever without any lungs,
played, it is to be presumed, entirely by ear.
Mr. Mould looked lovingly at Mrs. Mould, who sat hard by, and was a helpmate
to him in his punch as in all other things. Each seraph daughter, too, enjoyed
her share of his regards, and smiled upon him in return. So bountiful were Mr.
Mould's possessions, and so large his stock in trade, that even there, within
his household sanctuary, stood a cumbrous press, whose mahogany maw was filled
with shrouds, and winding-sheets, and other furniture of funerals. But, though
the Misses Mould had been brought up, as one may say, beneath his eye, it had
cast no shadow on their timid infancy or blooming youth. Sporting behind the
scenes of death and burial from cradlehood, the Misses Mould knew better.
Hatbands, to them, were but so many yards of silk or crape; the final robe but
such a quantity of linen. The Misses Mould could idealise a player's habit, or a
court-lady's petticoat, or even an act of parliament. But they were not to be
taken in by palls. They made them sometimes.
The premises of Mr. Mould were hard of hearing to the boisterous noises in
the great main streets, and nestled in a quiet corner, where the City strife
became a drowsy hum, that sometimes rose and sometimes fell and sometimes
altogether ceased: suggesting to a thoughtful mind a stoppage in Cheapside. The
light came sparkling in among the scarlet runners, as if the churchyard winked
at Mr. Mould, and said, `We understand each other;' and from the distant shop a
pleasant sound arose of coffin-making with a low melodious hammer, rat, tat,
tat, tat alike promoting slumber and digestion.
`Quite the buzz of insects,' said Mr. Mould, closing his eyes in a perfect
luxury. `It puts one in mind of the sound of animated nature in the agricultural
districts. It's exactly like the woodpecker tapping.'
`The woodpecker tapping the hollow elm tree,' observed Mrs. Mould, adapting
the words of the popular melody to the description of wood commonly used in the
trade.
`Ha, ha!' laughed Mr. Mould. `Not at all bad, my dear. We shall be glad to
hear from you again, Mrs. M. Hollow elm tree, eh! Ha, ha! Very good indeed. I've
seen worse than that in the Sunday papers, my love.'
Mrs. Mould, thus encouraged, took a little more of the punch, and handed it
to her daughters, who dutifully followed the example of their mother.
`Hollow elm tree, eh?' said Mr. Mould, making a slight motion with his legs
in his enjoyment of the joke. `It's beech in the song. Elm, eh? Yes, to be sure.
Ha, ha, ha! Upon my soul, that's one of the best things I know?' He was so
excessively tickled by the jest that he couldn't forget it, but repeated twenty
times, `Elm, eh? Yes, to be sure. Elm, of course. Ha, ha, ha! Upon my life, you
know, that ought to be sent to somebody who could make use of it. It's one of
the smartest things that ever was said. Hollow elm tree, eh? of course. Very
hollow. Ha, ha, ha!'
Here a knock was heard at the room door.
`That's Tacker, I know,' said Mrs. Mould, `by the wheezing he makes. Who that
hears him now, would suppose he'd ever had wind enough to carry the feathers on
his head! Come in, Tacker.'
`Beg your pardon, ma'am,' said Tacker, looking in a little way. `I thought
our Governor was here.'
`Well! so he is,' cried Mould.
`Oh! I didn't see you, I'm sure,' said Tacker, looking in a little farther.
`You wouldn't be inclined to take a walking one of two with the plain wood and a
tin plate, I suppose?'
`Certainly not,' replied Mr. Mould, `much too common. Nothing to say to it.'
`I told 'em it was precious low,' observed Mr. Tacker.
`Tell 'em to go somewhere else. We don't do that style of business here,'
said Mr. Mould. `Like their impudence to propose it. Who is it?'
`Why,' returned Tacker, pausing, `that's where it is, you see. It's the
beadle's son-in-law.'
`The beadle's son-in-law, eh?' said Mould. `Well! I'll do it if the beadle
follows in his cocked hat; not else. We carry it off that way, by looking
official, but it'll be low enough then. His cocked hat, mind!'
`I'll take care, sir,' rejoined Tacker. `Oh! Mrs. Gamp's below, and wants to
speak to you.'
`Tell Mrs. Gamp to come up-stairs,' said Mould. `Now Mrs. Gamp, what's your
news?'
The lady in question was by this time in the doorway, curtseying to Mrs.
Mould. At the same moment a peculiar fragrance was borne upon the breeze, as if
a passing fairy had hiccoughed, and had previously been to a wine-vaults.
Mrs. Gamp made no response to Mr. Mould, but curtseyed to Mrs. Mould again,
and held up her hands and eyes, as in a devout thanksgiving that she looked so
well. She was neatly, but not gaudily attired, in the weeds she had worn when
Mr. Pecksniff had the pleasure of making her acquaintance; and was perhaps the
turning of a scale more snuffy.
`There are some happy creeturs,' Mrs. Gamp observed, `as time runs back'ards
with, and you are one, Mrs. Mould; not that he need do nothing except use you in
his most owldacious way for years to come, I'm sure; for young you are and will
be. I says to Mrs. Harris,' Mrs. Gamp continued, `only t'other day; the last
Monday evening fortnight as ever dawned upon this Piljian's Projiss of a mortal
wale; I says to Mrs. Harris when she says to me, "Years and our trials, Mrs.
Gamp, sets marks upon us all." -- "Say not the words, Mrs. Harris, if you and me
is to be continual friends, for sech is not the case. Mrs. Mould," I says,
making so free, I will confess, as use the name,' (she curtseyed here,) `"is one
of them that goes agen the obserwation straight; and never, Mrs. Harris, whilst
I've a drop of breath to draw, will I set by, and not stand up, don't think it."
-- "I ast your pardon, ma'am," says Mrs. Harris, "and I humbly grant your grace;
for if ever a woman lived as would see her feller creeturs into fits to serve
her friends, well do I know that woman's name is Sairey Gamp."'
At this point she was fain to stop for breath; and advantage may be taken of
the circumstance, to state that a fearful mystery surrounded this lady of the
name of Harris, whom no one in the circle of Mrs. Gamp's acquaintance had ever
seen; neither did any human being know her place of residence, though Mrs. Gamp
appeared on her own showing to be in constant communication with her. There were
conflicting rumours on the subject; but the prevalent opinion was that she was a
phantom of Mrs. Gamp's brain -- as Messrs. Doe and Roe are fictions of the law
-- created for the express purpose of holding visionary dialogues with her on
all manner of subjects, and invariably winding up with a compliment to the
excellence of her nature.
`And likeways what a pleasure,' said Mrs. Gamp, turning with a tearful smile
towards the daughters, `to see them two young ladies as I know'd afore a tooth
in their pretty heads was cut, and have many a day seen -- ah, the sweet
creeturs! -- playing at berryins down in the shop, and follerin' the order-book
to its long home in the iron safe! But that's all past and over, Mr. Mould;' as
she thus got in a carefully regulated routine to that gentleman, she shook her
head waggishly; `That's all past and over now, sir, an't it?'
`Changes, Mrs. Gamp, changes!' returned the undertaker.
`More changes too, to come, afore we've done with changes, sir,' said Mrs.
Gamp, nodding yet more waggishly than before. `Young ladies with such faces
thinks of something else besides berryins, don't they, sir?'
`I am sure I don't know, Mrs. Gamp,' said Mould, with a chuckle -- `Not bad
in Mrs. Gamp, my dear?'
`Oh yes, you do know, sir!' said Mrs. Gamp, `and so does Mrs. Mould, your
ansome pardner too, sir; and so do I, although the blessing of a daughter was
deniged me; which, if we had had one, Gamp would certainly have drunk its little
shoes right off its feet, as with our precious boy he did, and arterwards send
the child a errand to sell his wooden leg for any money it would fetch as
matches in the rough, and bring it home in liquor: which was truly done beyond
his years, for ev'ry individgle penny that child lost at toss or buy for kidney
ones; and come home afterwards quite bold, to break the news, and offering to
drown himself if that would be a satisfaction to his parents. -- Oh yes, you do
know, sir,' said Mrs. Gamp, wiping her eye with her shawl, and resuming the
thread of her discourse. `There's something besides births and berryins in the
newspapers, an't there, Mr. Mould?'
Mr. Mould winked at Mrs. Mould, whom he had by this time taken on his knee,
and said: `No doubt. A good deal more, Mrs. Gamp. Upon my life, Mrs. Gamp is
very far from bad, my dear!'
`There's marryings, an't there, sir?' said Mrs. Gamp, while both the
daughters blushed and tittered. `Bless their precious hearts, and well they
knows it! Well you know'd it too, and well did Mrs. Mould, when you was at their
time of life! But my opinion is, you're all of one age now. For as to you and
Mrs. Mould, sir, ever having grandchildren --'
`Oh! Fie, fie! Nonsense, Mrs. Gamp,' replied the undertaker. `Devilish smart,
though. Ca-pi-tal!' This was in a whisper. `My dear' -- aloud again -- `Mrs.
Gamp can drink a glass of rum, I dare say. Sit down, Mrs. Gamp, sit down.'
Mrs. Gamp took the chair that was nearest the door, and casting up her eyes
towards the ceiling, feigned to be wholly insensible to the fact of a glass of
rum being in preparation, until it was placed in her hand by one of the young
ladies, when she exhibited the greatest surprise.
`A thing,' she said, `as hardly ever, Mrs. Mould, occurs with me unless it is
when I am indispoged, and find my half a pint of porter settling heavy on the
chest. Mrs. Harris often and often says to me, "Sairey Gamp," she says, "you
raly do amaze me!" "Mrs. Harris," I says to her, "why so? Give it a name, I
beg." "Telling the truth then, ma'am," says Mrs. Harris, "and shaming him as
shall be nameless betwixt you and me, never did I think till I know'd you, as
any woman could sick-nurse and monthly likeways, on the little that you takes to
drink." "Mrs. Harris," I says to her, "none on us knows what we can do till we
tries; and wunst, when me and Gamp kept ouse, I thought so too. But now," I
says, "my half a pint of porter fully satisfies; perwisin', Mrs. Harris, that it
is brought reg'lar, and draw'd mild. Whether I sicks or monthlies, ma'am, I hope
I does my duty, but I am but a poor woman, and I earns my living hard; therefore
I do require it, which I makes confession, to be brought reg'lar and draw'd
mild."'
The precise connexion between these observations and the glass of rum, did
not appear; for Mrs. Gamp proposing as a toast `The best of lucks to all!' took
off the dram in quite a scientific manner, without any further remarks.
`And what's your news, Mrs. Gamp?' asked Mould again, as that lady wiped her
lips upon her shawl, and nibbled a corner off a soft biscuit, which she appeared
to carry in her pocket as a provision against contingent drams. `How's Mr.
Chuffey?'
`Mr. Chuffey, sir,' she replied, `is jest as usual; he an't no better and he
an't no worse. I take it very kind in the gentleman to have wrote up to you and
said, "let Mrs. Gamp take care of him till I come home;" but ev'ry think he does
is kind. There an't a many like him. If there was, we shouldn't want no
churches.'
`What do you want to speak to me about, Mrs. Gamp?' said Mould, coming to the
point.
`Jest this, sir,' Mrs. Gamp returned, `with thanks to you for asking. There
is a gent, sir, at the Bull in Holborn, as has been took ill there, and is bad
abed. They have a day nurse as was recommended from Bartholomew's; and well I
knows her, Mr. Mould, hername bein' Mrs. Prig, the best of creeturs. But she is
otherways engaged at night, and they are in wants of night-watching; consequent
she says to them, having reposed the greatest friendliness in me for twenty
year, "The soberest person going, and the best of blessings in a sick room, is
Mrs. Gamp. Send a boy to Kingsgate Street," she says, "and snap her up at any
price, for Mrs. Gamp is worth her weight and more in goldian guineas." My
landlord brings the message down to me, and says, "bein' in a light place where
you are, and this job promising so well, why not unite the two?" "No, sir," I
says, "not unbeknown to Mr. Mould, and therefore do not think it. But I will go
to Mr. Mould," I says, "and ast him, if you like."' Here she looked sideways at
the undertaker, and came to a stop.
`Night-watching, eh?' said Mould, rubbing his chin.
`From eight o'clock till eight, sir. I will not deceive you,' Mrs. Gamp
rejoined.
`And then go back, eh?' said would.
`Quite free then, sir, to attend to Mr. Chuffey. His ways bein' quiet, and
his hours early, he'd be abed, sir, nearly all the time. I will not deny,' said
Mrs. Gamp with meekness, `that I am but a poor woman, and that the money is a
object; but do not let that act upon you, Mr. Mould. Rich folks may ride on
camels, but it ain't so easy for 'em to see out of a needle's eye. That is my
comfort, and I hope I knows it.'
`Well, Mrs. Gamp,' observed Mould, `I don't see any particular objection to
your earning an honest penny under such circumstances. I should keep it quiet, I
think, Mrs. Gamp. I wouldn't mention it to Mr. Chuzzlewit on his return, for
instance, unless it were necessary, or he asked you point-blank.'
`The very words was on my lips, sir,' Mrs. Gamp rejoined. `Suppoging that the
gent should die, I hope I might take the liberty of saying as I know'd some one
in the undertaking, line, and yet give no offence to you, sir?'
`Certainly, Mrs. Gamp,' said Mould, with much condescension. `You may
casually remark, in such a case, that we do the thing pleasantly and in a great
variety of styles, and are generally considered to make it as agreeable as
possible to the feelings of the survivors. But don't obtrude it, don't obtrude
it. Easy, easy! My dear you may as well give Mrs. Gamp a card or two, if you
please.'
Mrs. Gamp received them, and scenting no more rum in the wind (for the bottle
was locked up again) rose to take her departure.
`Wishing ev'ry happiness to this happy family,' said Mrs. Gamp `with all my
heart. Good arternoon, Mrs. Mould! If I was Mr. would I should be jealous of
you, ma'am; and I'am sure, if I was you, I should be jealous of Mr. Mould.'
`Tut, tut! Bah, bah! Go along, Mrs. Gamp!' cried the delighted undertaker.
`As to the young ladies,' said Mrs. Gamp, dropping a curtsey, `bless their
sweet looks -- how they can ever reconsize it with their duties to be so grown
up with such young parents, it an't for sech as me to give a guess at.'
`Nonsense, nonsense. Be off, Mrs. Gamp!' cried Mould. But in the height of
his gratification he actually pinched Mrs. Mould as he said it.
`I'll tell you what, my dear,' he observed, when Mrs. Gamp had at last
withdrawn and shut the door, `that's a ve-ry shrewd woman. That's a woman whose
intellect is immensely superior to her station in life. That's a woman who
observes and reflects in an uncommon manner. She's the sort of woman now,' said
Mould, drawing his silk handkerchief over his head again, and composing himself
for a nap `one would almost feel disposed to bury for nothing: and do it neatly,
too!'
Mrs. Mould and her daughters fully concurred in these remarks; the subject of
which had by this time reached the street, where she experienced so much
inconvenience from the air, that she was obliged to stand under an archway for a
short time, to recover herself. Even after this precaution, she walked so
unsteadily as to attract the compassionate regards of divers kind-hearted boys,
who took the liveliest interest in her disorder; and in their simple language
bade her be of good cheer, for she was `only a little screwed.'
Whatever she was, or whatever name the vocabulary of medical science would
have bestowed upon her malady, Mrs. Gamp was perfectly acquainted with the way
home again; and arriving at the house of Anthony Chuzzlewit & Son, lay down to
rest. Remaining there until seven o'clock in the evening, and then persuading
poor old Chuffey to betake himself to bed, she sallied forth upon her new
engagement. First, she went to her private lodgings in Kingsgate Street, for a
bundle of robes and wrappings comfortable in the night season: and then repaired
to the Bull in Holborn, which she reached as the clocks were striking eight.
As she turned into the yard, she stopped; for the landlord, landlady, and
head chambermaid, were all on the threshold together talking earnestly with a
young gentleman who seemed to have just come or to be just going away. The first
words that struck upon Mrs. Gamp's ear obviously bore reference to the patient;
and it being expedient that all good attendants should know as much as possible
about the case on which their skill is brought to bear, Mrs. Gamp listened as a
matter of duty.
`No better, then?' observed the gentleman.
`Worse!' said the landlord.
`Much worse,' added the landlady.
`Oh! a deal badder,' cried the chambermaid from the background, opening her
eyes very wide, and shaking her head.
`Poor fellow!' said the gentleman, `I am sorry to hear it. The worst of it
is, that I have no idea what friends or relations he has, or where they live,
except that it certainly is not in London.'
The landlord looked at the landlady; the landlady looked at the landlord; and
the chambermaid remarked, hysterically, `that of all the many wague directions
she had ever seen or heerd of (and they wasn't few in an hotel), that was the
waguest.'
`The fact is, you see,' pursued the gentleman, `as I told you yesterday when
you sent to me, I really know very little about him. We were school-fellows
together; but since that time I have only met him twice. On both occasions I was
in London for a boy's holiday (having come up for a week or so from Wiltshire),
and lost sight of him again directly. The letter bearing my name and address
which you found upon his table, and which led to your applying to me, is in
answer, you will observe, to one he wrote from this house the very day he was
taken ill, making an appointment with him at his own request. Here is his
letter, if you wish to see it.'
The landlord read it: the landlady looked over him. The chambermaid, in the
background, made out as much of it as she could, and invented the rest;
believing it all from that time forth as a positive piece of evidence.
`He has very little luggage, you say?' observed the gentleman, who was no
other than our old friend, John Westlock.
`Nothing but a portmanteau,' said the landlord; `and very little in it.'
`A few pounds in his purse, though?'
`Yes. It's sealed up, and in the cash-box. I made a memorandum of the amount,
which you're welcome to see.'
`Well!' said John, `as the medical gentleman says the fever must take its
course, and nothing can be done just now beyond giving him his drinks regularly
and having him carefully attended to, nothing more can be said that I know of,
until he is in a condition to give us some information. Can you suggest anything
else?'
`N-no,' replied the landlord, `except--'
`Except, who's to pay, I suppose?' said John.
`Why,' hesitated the landlord, `it would be as well.'
`Quite as well,' said the landlady.
`Not forgetting to remember the servants,' said the chambermaid in a bland
whisper.
`It is but reasonable, I fully admit,' said John Westlock. `At all events,
you have the stock in hand to go upon for the present; and I will readily
undertake to pay the doctor and the nurses.'
`Ah!' cried Mrs. Gamp. `A rayal gentleman!'
She groaned her admiration so audibly, that they all turned round. Mrs. Gamp
felt the necessity of advancing, bundle in hand, and introducing herself.
`The night-nurse,' she observed, `from Kingsgate Street, well beknown to Mrs.
Prig the day-nurse, and the best of creeturs. How is the poor dear gentleman
to-night? If he an't no better yet, still that is what must be expected and
prepared for. It an't the fust time by a many score, ma'am,' dropping a curtsey
to the landlady, `that Mrs. Prig and me has nussed together, turn and turn about
one off, one on. We knows each other's ways, and often gives relief when others
falled. our charges is but low, sir:' Mrs. Gamp addressed herself to John on
this head: `considerin' the nater of our painful dooty; If they was made
accordin' to our wishes, they would be easy paid.'
Regarding herself as having now delivered her inauguration address, Mrs. Gamp
curtseyed all round, and signified her wish to be conducted to the scene of her
official duties. The chambermaid led her, through a variety of intricate
passages, to the top of the house; and pointing at length to a solitary door at
the end of a gallery informed her that yonder was the chamber where the patient
lay. That done, she hurried off with all the speed she could make.
Mrs. Gamp traversed the gallery in a great heat from having carried her large
bundle up so many stairs, and tapped at the door which was immediately opened by
Mrs. Prig, bonneted and shawled and all impatience to be gone. Mrs. Prig was of
the Gamp build, but not so fat; and her voice was deeper and more like a man's.
She had also a beard.
`I began to think you warn't a-coming!' Mrs. Prig observed, in some
displeasure.
`It shall be made good to-morrow night,' said Mrs. Gamp `honorable. I had to
go and fetch my things.' She had begun to make signs of inquiry in reference to
the position of the patient and his over-hearing them -- for there was a screen
before the door -- when Mrs. Prig settled that point easily.
`Oh!' she said aloud, `he's quiet, but his wits is gone. It an't no matter
wot you say.'
`Anythin' to tell afore you goes, my dear?' asked Mrs. Gamp, setting her
bundle down inside the door, and looking affectionately at her partner.
`The pickled salmon,' Mrs. Prig replied, `is quite delicious. I can
partlck'ler recommend it. Don't have nothink to say to the cold meat, for it
tastes of the stable. The drinks is all good.'
Mrs. Gamp expressed herself much gratified.
`The physic and them things is on the drawers and mankleshelf,' said Mrs.
Prig, cursorily. `He took his last slime draught at seven. The easy-chair an't
soft enough. You'll want his piller.'
Mrs. Gamp thanked her for these hints, and giving her a friendly good night,
held the door open until she had disappeared at the other end of the gallery.
Having thus performed the hospitable duty of seeing her safely off, she shut it,
locked it on the inside, took up her bundle, walked round the screen, and
entered on her occupation of the sick chamber.
`A little dull, but not so bad as might be,' Mrs. Gamp remarked. `I'm glad to
see a parapidge, in case of fire, and lots of roofs and chimley-pots to walk
upon.'
It will be seen from these remarks that Mrs. Gamp was looking out of window.
When she had exhausted the prospect, she tried the easychair, which she
indignantly declared was `harder than a brickbadge.' Next she pursued her
researches among the physicbottles, glasses, jugs, and tea-cups; and when she
had entirely satisfied her curiosity on all these subjects of investigation, she
untied her bonnet-strings and strolled up to the bedside to take a look at the
patient.
A young man -- dark and not ill-looking -- with long black hair, that seemed
the blacker for the whiteness of the bed-clothes. His eyes were partly open, and
he never ceased to roll his head from side to side upon the pillow, keeping his
body almost quiet. He did not utter words. but every now and then gave vent to
an expression of impatience or fatigue, sometimes of surprise; and still his
restless head -- oh, weary, weary hour! -- went to and fro without a moment's
intermission.
Mrs. Gamp solaced herself with a pinch of snuff, and stood looking at him
with her head inclined a little sideways, as a connoisseur might gaze upon a
doubtful work of art. By degrees, a horrible remembrance of one branch of her
calling took possession of the woman; and stooping down, she pinned his
wandering arms against his sides, to see how he would look if laid out as a dead
man. Hideous as it may appear, her fingers itched to compose his limbs in that
last marble attitude.
`Ah!' said Mrs. Gamp, walking away from the bed, `he'd make a lovely corpse.'
She now proceeded to unpack her bundle; lighted a candle with the aid of a
fire-box on the drawers; filled a small kettle, as a preliminary to refreshing
herself with a cup of tea in the course of the night; laid what she called `a
little bit of fire,' for the same philanthropic purpose. and also set forth a
small tea-board, that nothing might be wanting for her comfortable enjoyment.
These preparations occupied so long, that when they were brought to a conclusion
it was high time to think about supper; so she rang the bell and ordered it.
`I think, young woman,' said Mrs. Gamp to the assistant chambermaid, in a
tone expressive of weakness, `that I could pick a little bit of pickled salmon,
with a nice little sprig of fennel, and a sprinkling of white pepper. I takes
new bread, my dear, with just a little pat of fresh butter, and a mossel of
cheese. In case there should be such a thing as a cowcumber in the 'ouse, will
you be so kind as bring it, for I'm rather partial to 'em, and they does a world
of good in a sick room. If they draws the Brighton Old Tipper here, I takes that
ale at night, my love, it bein' considered wakeful by the doctors. And whatever
you do, young woman, don't bring more than a shilling's-worth of gin and
water-warm when I rings the bell a second time; for that is always my allowance,
and I never takes a drop beyond!'
Having preferred these moderate requests, Mrs. Gamp observed that she would
stand at the door until the order was executed, to the end that the patient
might not be disturbed by her opening it a second time; and therefore she would
thank the young woman to `look sharp.'
A tray was brought with everything upon it, even to the cucumber and Mrs.
Gamp accordingly sat down to eat and drink in high good humour. The extent to
which she availed herself of the vinegar, and supped up that refreshing fluid
with the blade of her knife, can scarcely be expressed in narrative.
`Ah!' sighed Mrs. Gamp, as she meditated over the warm shilling's-worth,
`what a blessed thing it is -- living in a wale -- to be contented! What a
blessed thing it is to make sick people happy in their beds, and never mind
one's self as long as one can do a service! I don't beheve a finer cowcumber was
ever grow'd. I'm sure I never see one!'
She moralised in the same vein until her glass was empty, and then admistered
the patient's medicine, by the simple process of clutching his windpipe to make
him gasp, and immediately pouring it down his throat.
`I a'most forgot the piller, I declare!' said Mrs. Gamp, drawing it away.
`There! Now he's comfortable as he can be, I'm sure! I must try to make myself
as much so as I can.'
With this view, she went about the construction of an extemporaneous bed in
the easy-chair, with the addition of the next easy one for her feet. Having
formed the best couch that the circumstances admitted of, she took out of her
bundle a yellow night-cap, of prodigious size, in shape resembling a cabbage;
which article of dress she fixed and tied on with the utmost care, previously
divesting herself of a row of bald old curls that could scarcely be called false
they were so very innocent of anything approaching to deception from the same
repository she brought forth a night-jacket, in which she also attired herself.
Finally, she produced a watchman's coat which she tied round her neck by the
sleeves, so that she become two people; and looked, behind, as if she were in
the act of being embraced by one of the old patrol.
All these arrangements made, she lighted the rushlight, coiled herself up on
her couch, and went to sleep. Ghostly and dark the room became, and full of
lowering shadows. The distant noises in the streets were gradually hushed; the
house was quiet as a sepulchre the dead of might was coffined in the silent
city.
Oh, weary, weary hour! Oh, haggard mind, groping darkly through the past;
incapable of detaching itself from the miserable present; dragging its heavy
chain of care through imaginary feasts and revels, and scenes of awful pomp;
seeking but a moment's rest among the long-forgotten haunts of childhood, and
the resorts of yesterday; and dimly finding fear and horror everywhere! Oh,
weary, weary hour! That were the wanderings of Cain, to these!
Still, without a moment's interval, the burning head tossed to and fro.
Still, from time to time, fatigue, impatience, suffering, and surprise, found
utterance upon that rack, and plainly too, though never once in words. At
length, in the solemn hour of midnight, he began to talk; waiting awfully for
answers sometimes; as though invisible companions were about his bed: and so
replying to their speech and questioning again.
Mrs. Gamp awoke, and sat up in her bed: presenting on the wall the shadow. of
a gigantic night constable, struggling with a prisoner.
`Come! Hold your tongue!' she cried, in sharp reproof. `Don't make none of
that noise here.'
There was no alteration in the face, or in the incessant motion of the head,
but he talked on wildly.
`Ah!' said Mrs. Gamp, coming out of the chair with an impatient shiver; `I
thought I was a-sleepin' too pleasant to last! The devil's in the night, I
think, it's turned so chilly!'
`Don't drink so much!' cried the sick man. `You'll ruin us all. Don't you see
how the fountain sinks? Look at the mark where the sparkling water was just
now!'
`Sparkling water, indeed!' said Mrs. Gamp. `I'll have a sparkling cup o' tea,
I think. I wish you'd hold your noise!'
He burst into a laugh, which, being prolonged, fell off into a dismal wail.
Checking himself, with fierce inconstancy he began to count, fast.
`One -- two -- three -- four -- five -- six.'
"One, two, buckle my shoe,"' said Mrs. Gamp, who was now on her knees,
lighting the fire, "three, four, shut the door," -- I wish you'd shut your
mouth, young man -- "five, six, picking up sticks." If I'd got a few handy, I
should have the kettle boiling all the sooner.'
Awaiting this desirable consummation, she sat down so close to the fender
(which was a high one) that her nose rested upon it; and for some time she
drowsily amused herself by sliding that feature backwards and forwards along the
brass top, as far as she could, without changing her position to do it. She
maintained, all the while, a running commentary upon the wanderings of the man
in bed.
`That makes five hundred and twenty-one men, all dressed alike, and with the
same distortion on their faces, that have passed in at the window, and out at
the door,' he cried, anxiously. `Look there! Five hundred and twenty-two --
twenty-three -- twenty-four. Do you see them?'
`Ah! I see 'em,' said Mrs. Gamp; `all the whole kit of 'em numbered like
hackney-coaches, ain't they?'
`Touch me! Let me be sure of this. Touch me!'
`You'll take your next draught when I've made the kettle bile,' retorted Mrs.
Gamp, composedly, `and you'll be touched then. You'll be touched up, too, if you
don't take it quiet.'
`Five hundred and twenty-eight, five hundred and twenty-nine, five hundred
and thirty, -- look here!'
`What's the matter now?' said Mrs. Gamp.
`They're coming four abreast, each man with his arm entwined in the next
man's, and his hand upon his shoulder. What's that upon the arm of every man,
and on the flag?'
`Spiders, p'raps,' said Mrs. Gamp.
`Crape! Black crape! Good God! why do they wear it outside?'
`Would you have 'em carry black crape in their insides?' Mrs. Gamp retorted.
`Hold your noise, hold your noise.'
The fire beginning by this time to impart a grateful warmth, Mrs. Gamp became
silent; gradually rubbed her nose more and more slowly along the top of the
fender; and fell into a heavy doze. She was awakened by the room ringing (as she
fancied) with a name she knew:
`Chuzzlewit!'
The sound was so distinct and real, and so full of agonised entreaty, that
Mrs. Gamp jumped up in terror, and ran to the door. She expected to find the
passage filled with people, come to tell her that the house in the City had
taken fire. But the place was empty: not a soul was there. She opened the
window, and looked out. Dark, dull, dingy, and desolate house-tops. As she
passed to her seat again, she glanced at the patient. Just the same; but silent.
Mrs. Gamp was so warm now, that she threw off the watchman's coat, and fanned
herself.
`It seemed to make the wery bottles ring,' she said. `What could I have been
a-dreaming of? That dratted Chuffey, I'll be bound.'
The supposition was probable enough. At any rate, a pinch of snuff, and the
song of the steaming kettle, quite restored the tone of Mrs. Gamp's nerves,
which were none of the weakest. She brewed her tea; made some buttered toast;
and sat down at the tea-board, with her face to the fire.
When once again, in a tone more terrible than that which had vibrated in her
slumbering ear, these words were shrieked out:
`Chuzzlewit! Jonas! No!'
Mrs. Gamp dropped the cup she was in the act of raising to her lips, and
turned round with a start that made the little tea-board leap. The cry had come
from the bed.
It was bright morning the next time Mrs. Gamp looked out of the window, and
the sun was rising cheerfully. Lighter and lighter grew the sky, and noisier the
streets; and high into the summer air uprose the smoke of newly kindled fires,
until the busy day was broad awake.
Mrs. Prig relieved punctually, having passed a good night at her other
patient's. Mr. Westlock came at the same time, but he was not admitted, the
disorder being infectious. The doctor came too. The doctor shook his head. It
was all he could do, under the circumstances, and he did it well.
`What sort of a night, nurse?'
`Restless, sir,' said Mrs. Gamp.
`Talk much?'
`Middling, sir,' said Mrs. Gamp.
`Nothing to the purpose, I suppose?'
`Oh bless you, no, sir. Only jargon.'
`Well!' said the doctor, `we must keep him quiet; keep the room cool: give
him his draughts regularly; and see that he's carefully looked to. That's all!'
`And as long as Mrs. Prig and me waits upon him, sir, no fear of that,' said
Mrs. Gamp.
`I suppose,' observed Mrs. Prig, when they had curtseyed the doctor out:
`there's nothin' new?'
`Nothin' at all, my dear,' said Mrs. Gamp. `He's rather wearin' in his talk
from making up a lot of names; elseways you needn't mind him.'
`Oh, I shan't mind him,' Mrs. Prig returned. `I have somethin' else to think
of.'
`I pays my debts to-night, you know, my dear, and comes afore my time,' said
Mrs. Gamp. `But, Betsy Prig:' speaking with great feeling, and laying her hand
upon her arm: `try the cowcumbers, God bless you!'
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