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And
it
is
the
fearful
peculiarity
of
this
condition
that
,
at
any
hour
of
his
daily
life
,
at
any
opening
of
the
shop
-
door
,
at
any
pull
of
the
bell
,
at
any
entrance
of
a
messenger
,
or
any
delivery
of
a
letter
,
the
secret
may
take
air
and
fire
,
explode
,
and
blow
up
—
Mr
.
Bucket
only
knows
whom
.
For
which
reason
,
whenever
a
man
unknown
comes
into
the
shop
(
as
many
men
unknown
do
)
and
says
,
"
Is
Mr
.
Snagsby
in
?
"
or
words
to
that
innocent
effect
,
Mr
.
Snagsby
’
s
heart
knocks
hard
at
his
guilty
breast
.
He
undergoes
so
much
from
such
inquiries
that
when
they
are
made
by
boys
he
revenges
himself
by
flipping
at
their
ears
over
the
counter
and
asking
the
young
dogs
what
they
mean
by
it
and
why
they
can
’
t
speak
out
at
once
?
More
impracticable
men
and
boys
persist
in
walking
into
Mr
.
Snagsby
’
s
sleep
and
terrifying
him
with
unaccountable
questions
,
so
that
often
when
the
cock
at
the
little
dairy
in
Cursitor
Street
breaks
out
in
his
usual
absurd
way
about
the
morning
,
Mr
.
Snagsby
finds
himself
in
a
crisis
of
nightmare
,
with
his
little
woman
shaking
him
and
saying
"
What
’
s
the
matter
with
the
man
!
"
The
little
woman
herself
is
not
the
least
item
in
his
difficulty
.
To
know
that
he
is
always
keeping
a
secret
from
her
,
that
he
has
under
all
circumstances
to
conceal
and
hold
fast
a
tender
double
tooth
,
which
her
sharpness
is
ever
ready
to
twist
out
of
his
head
,
gives
Mr
.
Snagsby
,
in
her
dentistical
presence
,
much
of
the
air
of
a
dog
who
has
a
reservation
from
his
master
and
will
look
anywhere
rather
than
meet
his
eye
.
These
various
signs
and
tokens
,
marked
by
the
little
woman
,
are
not
lost
upon
her
.
They
impel
her
to
say
,
"
Snagsby
has
something
on
his
mind
!
"
And
thus
suspicion
gets
into
Cook
’
s
Court
,
Cursitor
Street
.
From
suspicion
to
jealousy
,
Mrs
.
Snagsby
finds
the
road
as
natural
and
short
as
from
Cook
’
s
Court
to
Chancery
Lane
.
And
thus
jealousy
gets
into
Cook
’
s
Court
,
Cursitor
Street
.
Once
there
(
and
it
was
always
lurking
thereabout
)
,
it
is
very
active
and
nimble
in
Mrs
.
Snagsby
’
s
breast
,
prompting
her
to
nocturnal
examinations
of
Mr
.
Snagsby
’
s
pockets
;
to
secret
perusals
of
Mr
.
Snagsby
’
s
letters
;
to
private
researches
in
the
day
book
and
ledger
,
till
,
cash
-
box
,
and
iron
safe
;
to
watchings
at
windows
,
listenings
behind
doors
,
and
a
general
putting
of
this
and
that
together
by
the
wrong
end
.
Mrs
.
Snagsby
is
so
perpetually
on
the
alert
that
the
house
becomes
ghostly
with
creaking
boards
and
rustling
garments
.
The
’
prentices
think
somebody
may
have
been
murdered
there
in
bygone
times
.
Guster
holds
certain
loose
atoms
of
an
idea
(
picked
up
at
Tooting
,
where
they
were
found
floating
among
the
orphans
)
that
there
is
buried
money
underneath
the
cellar
,
guarded
by
an
old
man
with
a
white
beard
,
who
cannot
get
out
for
seven
thousand
years
because
he
said
the
Lord
’
s
Prayer
backwards
.
"
Who
was
Nimrod
?
"
Mrs
.
Snagsby
repeatedly
inquires
of
herself
.
"
Who
was
that
lady
—
that
creature
?
And
who
is
that
boy
?
"
Now
,
Nimrod
being
as
dead
as
the
mighty
hunter
whose
name
Mrs
.
Snagsby
has
appropriated
,
and
the
lady
being
unproducible
,
she
directs
her
mental
eye
,
for
the
present
,
with
redoubled
vigilance
to
the
boy
.
"
And
who
,
"
quoth
Mrs
.
Snagsby
for
the
thousand
and
first
time
,
"
is
that
boy
?
Who
is
that
—
!
"
And
there
Mrs
.
Snagsby
is
seized
with
an
inspiration
.
He
has
no
respect
for
Mr
.
Chadband
.
No
,
to
be
sure
,
and
he
wouldn
’
t
have
,
of
course
.
Naturally
he
wouldn
’
t
,
under
those
contagious
circumstances
.
He
was
invited
and
appointed
by
Mr
.
Chadband
—
why
,
Mrs
.
Snagsby
heard
it
herself
with
her
own
ears
!
—
to
come
back
,
and
be
told
where
he
was
to
go
,
to
be
addressed
by
Mr
.
Chadband
;
and
he
never
came
!
Why
did
he
never
come
?
Because
he
was
told
not
to
come
.
Who
told
him
not
to
come
?
Who
?
Ha
,
ha
!
Mrs
.
Snagsby
sees
it
all
.
But
happily
(
and
Mrs
.
Snagsby
tightly
shakes
her
head
and
tightly
smiles
)
that
boy
was
met
by
Mr
.
Chadband
yesterday
in
the
streets
;
and
that
boy
,
as
affording
a
subject
which
Mr
.
Chadband
desires
to
improve
for
the
spiritual
delight
of
a
select
congregation
,
was
seized
by
Mr
.
Chadband
and
threatened
with
being
delivered
over
to
the
police
unless
he
showed
the
reverend
gentleman
where
he
lived
and
unless
he
entered
into
,
and
fulfilled
,
an
undertaking
to
appear
in
Cook
’
s
Court
to
-
morrow
night
,
"
to
—
mor
—
row
—
night
,
"
Mrs
.
Snagsby
repeats
for
mere
emphasis
with
another
tight
smile
and
another
tight
shake
of
her
head
;
and
to
-
morrow
night
that
boy
will
be
here
,
and
to
-
morrow
night
Mrs
.
Snagsby
will
have
her
eye
upon
him
and
upon
some
one
else
;
and
oh
,
you
may
walk
a
long
while
in
your
secret
ways
(
says
Mrs
.
Snagsby
with
haughtiness
and
scorn
)
,
but
you
can
’
t
blind
ME
!
Mrs
.
Snagsby
sounds
no
timbrel
in
anybody
’
s
ears
,
but
holds
her
purpose
quietly
,
and
keeps
her
counsel
.
To
-
morrow
comes
,
the
savoury
preparations
for
the
Oil
Trade
come
,
the
evening
comes
.
Comes
Mr
.
Snagsby
in
his
black
coat
;
come
the
Chadbands
;
come
(
when
the
gorging
vessel
is
replete
)
the
’
prentices
and
Guster
,
to
be
edified
;
comes
at
last
,
with
his
slouching
head
,
and
his
shuffle
backward
,
and
his
shuffle
forward
,
and
his
shuffle
to
the
right
,
and
his
shuffle
to
the
left
,
and
his
bit
of
fur
cap
in
his
muddy
hand
,
which
he
picks
as
if
it
were
some
mangy
bird
he
had
caught
and
was
plucking
before
eating
raw
,
Jo
,
the
very
,
very
tough
subject
Mr
.
Chadband
is
to
improve
.
Mrs
.
Snagsby
screws
a
watchful
glance
on
Jo
as
he
is
brought
into
the
little
drawing
-
room
by
Guster
.
He
looks
at
Mr
.
Snagsby
the
moment
he
comes
in
.
Aha
!
Why
does
he
look
at
Mr
.
Snagsby
?
Mr
.
Snagsby
looks
at
him
.
Why
should
he
do
that
,
but
that
Mrs
.
Snagsby
sees
it
all
?
Why
else
should
that
look
pass
between
them
,
why
else
should
Mr
.
Snagsby
be
confused
and
cough
a
signal
cough
behind
his
hand
?
It
is
as
clear
as
crystal
that
Mr
.
Snagsby
is
that
boy
’
s
father
.
"
Peace
,
my
friends
,
"
says
Chadband
,
rising
and
wiping
the
oily
exudations
from
his
reverend
visage
.
"
Peace
be
with
us
!
My
friends
,
why
with
us
?
Because
,
"
with
his
fat
smile
,
"
it
cannot
be
against
us
,
because
it
must
be
for
us
;
because
it
is
not
hardening
,
because
it
is
softening
;
because
it
does
not
make
war
like
the
hawk
,
but
comes
home
unto
us
like
the
dove
.
Therefore
,
my
friends
,
peace
be
with
us
!
My
human
boy
,
come
forward
!
"
Stretching
forth
his
flabby
paw
,
Mr
.
Chadband
lays
the
same
on
Jo
’
s
arm
and
considers
where
to
station
him
.
Jo
,
very
doubtful
of
his
reverend
friend
’
s
intentions
and
not
at
all
clear
but
that
something
practical
and
painful
is
going
to
be
done
to
him
,
mutters
,
"
You
let
me
alone
.
I
never
said
nothink
to
you
.
You
let
me
alone
.
"
"
No
,
my
young
friend
,
"
says
Chadband
smoothly
,
"
I
will
not
let
you
alone
.
And
why
?
Because
I
am
a
harvest
-
labourer
,
because
I
am
a
toiler
and
a
moiler
,
because
you
are
delivered
over
unto
me
and
are
become
as
a
precious
instrument
in
my
hands
.
My
friends
,
may
I
so
employ
this
instrument
as
to
use
it
to
your
advantage
,
to
your
profit
,
to
your
gain
,
to
your
welfare
,
to
your
enrichment
!
My
young
friend
,
sit
upon
this
stool
.
"
Jo
,
apparently
possessed
by
an
impression
that
the
reverend
gentleman
wants
to
cut
his
hair
,
shields
his
head
with
both
arms
and
is
got
into
the
required
position
with
great
difficulty
and
every
possible
manifestation
of
reluctance
.
When
he
is
at
last
adjusted
like
a
lay
-
figure
,
Mr
.
Chadband
,
retiring
behind
the
table
,
holds
up
his
bear
’
s
-
paw
and
says
,
"
My
friends
!
"
This
is
the
signal
for
a
general
settlement
of
the
audience
.
The
’
prentices
giggle
internally
and
nudge
each
other
.
Guster
falls
into
a
staring
and
vacant
state
,
compounded
of
a
stunned
admiration
of
Mr
.
Chadband
and
pity
for
the
friendless
outcast
whose
condition
touches
her
nearly
.
Mrs
.
Snagsby
silently
lays
trains
of
gunpowder
.
Mrs
.
Chadband
composes
herself
grimly
by
the
fire
and
warms
her
knees
,
finding
that
sensation
favourable
to
the
reception
of
eloquence
.
It
happens
that
Mr
.
Chadband
has
a
pulpit
habit
of
fixing
some
member
of
his
congregation
with
his
eye
and
fatly
arguing
his
points
with
that
particular
person
,
who
is
understood
to
be
expected
to
be
moved
to
an
occasional
grunt
,
groan
,
gasp
,
or
other
audible
expression
of
inward
working
,
which
expression
of
inward
working
,
being
echoed
by
some
elderly
lady
in
the
next
pew
and
so
communicated
like
a
game
of
forfeits
through
a
circle
of
the
more
fermentable
sinners
present
,
serves
the
purpose
of
parliamentary
cheering
and
gets
Mr
.
Chadband
’
s
steam
up
.
From
mere
force
of
habit
,
Mr
.
Chadband
in
saying
"
My
friends
!
"
has
rested
his
eye
on
Mr
.
Snagsby
and
proceeds
to
make
that
ill
-
starred
stationer
,
already
sufficiently
confused
,
the
immediate
recipient
of
his
discourse
.
"
We
have
here
among
us
,
my
friends
,
"
says
Chadband
,
"
a
Gentile
and
a
heathen
,
a
dweller
in
the
tents
of
Tom
-
all
-
Alone
’
s
and
a
mover
-
on
upon
the
surface
of
the
earth
.
We
have
here
among
us
,
my
friends
,
"
and
Mr
.
Chadband
,
untwisting
the
point
with
his
dirty
thumb
-
nail
,
bestows
an
oily
smile
on
Mr
.
Snagsby
,
signifying
that
he
will
throw
him
an
argumentative
back
-
fall
presently
if
he
be
not
already
down
,
"
a
brother
and
a
boy
.
Devoid
of
parents
,
devoid
of
relations
,
devoid
of
flocks
and
herds
,
devoid
of
gold
and
silver
and
of
precious
stones
.
Now
,
my
friends
,
why
do
I
say
he
is
devoid
of
these
possessions
?
Why
?
Why
is
he
?
"
Mr
.
Chadband
states
the
question
as
if
he
were
propounding
an
entirely
new
riddle
of
much
ingenuity
and
merit
to
Mr
.
Snagsby
and
entreating
him
not
to
give
it
up
.
Mr
.
Snagsby
,
greatly
perplexed
by
the
mysterious
look
he
received
just
now
from
his
little
woman
—
at
about
the
period
when
Mr
.
Chadband
mentioned
the
word
parents
—
is
tempted
into
modestly
remarking
,
"
I
don
’
t
know
,
I
’
m
sure
,
sir
.
"
On
which
interruption
Mrs
.
Chadband
glares
and
Mrs
.
Snagsby
says
,
"
For
shame
!
"
"
I
hear
a
voice
,
"
says
Chadband
;
"
is
it
a
still
small
voice
,
my
friends
?
I
fear
not
,
though
I
fain
would
hope
so
—
"
"
Ah
—
h
!
"
from
Mrs
.
Snagsby
.
"
Which
says
,
’
I
don
’
t
know
.
’
Then
I
will
tell
you
why
.
I
say
this
brother
present
here
among
us
is
devoid
of
parents
,
devoid
of
relations
,
devoid
of
flocks
and
herds
,
devoid
of
gold
,
of
silver
,
and
of
precious
stones
because
he
is
devoid
of
the
light
that
shines
in
upon
some
of
us
.
What
is
that
light
?
What
is
it
?
I
ask
you
,
what
is
that
light
?
"
Mr
.
Chadband
draws
back
his
head
and
pauses
,
but
Mr
.
Snagsby
is
not
to
be
lured
on
to
his
destruction
again
.
Mr
.
Chadband
,
leaning
forward
over
the
table
,
pierces
what
he
has
got
to
follow
directly
into
Mr
.
Snagsby
with
the
thumb
-
nail
already
mentioned
.
"
It
is
,
"
says
Chadband
,
"
the
ray
of
rays
,
the
sun
of
suns
,
the
moon
of
moons
,
the
star
of
stars
.
It
is
the
light
of
Terewth
.
"
Mr
.
Chadband
draws
himself
up
again
and
looks
triumphantly
at
Mr
.
Snagsby
as
if
he
would
be
glad
to
know
how
he
feels
after
that
.
"
Of
Terewth
,
"
says
Mr
.
Chadband
,
hitting
him
again
.
"
Say
not
to
me
that
it
is
NOT
the
lamp
of
lamps
.
I
say
to
you
it
is
.
I
say
to
you
,
a
million
of
times
over
,
it
is
.
It
is
!
I
say
to
you
that
I
will
proclaim
it
to
you
,
whether
you
like
it
or
not
;
nay
,
that
the
less
you
like
it
,
the
more
I
will
proclaim
it
to
you
.
With
a
speaking
-
trumpet
!
I
say
to
you
that
if
you
rear
yourself
against
it
,
you
shall
fall
,
you
shall
be
bruised
,
you
shall
be
battered
,
you
shall
be
flawed
,
you
shall
be
smashed
.
"
The
present
effect
of
this
flight
of
oratory
—
much
admired
for
its
general
power
by
Mr
.
Chadband
’
s
followers
—
being
not
only
to
make
Mr
.
Chadband
unpleasantly
warm
,
but
to
represent
the
innocent
Mr
.
Snagsby
in
the
light
of
a
determined
enemy
to
virtue
,
with
a
forehead
of
brass
and
a
heart
of
adamant
,
that
unfortunate
tradesman
becomes
yet
more
disconcerted
and
is
in
a
very
advanced
state
of
low
spirits
and
false
position
when
Mr
.
Chadband
accidentally
finishes
him
.
"
My
friends
,
"
he
resumes
after
dabbing
his
fat
head
for
some
time
—
and
it
smokes
to
such
an
extent
that
he
seems
to
light
his
pocket
-
handkerchief
at
it
,
which
smokes
,
too
,
after
every
dab
—
"
to
pursue
the
subject
we
are
endeavouring
with
our
lowly
gifts
to
improve
,
let
us
in
a
spirit
of
love
inquire
what
is
that
Terewth
to
which
I
have
alluded
.
For
,
my
young
friends
,
"
suddenly
addressing
the
’
prentices
and
Guster
,
to
their
consternation
,
"
if
I
am
told
by
the
doctor
that
calomel
or
castor
-
oil
is
good
for
me
,
I
may
naturally
ask
what
is
calomel
,
and
what
is
castor
-
oil
.
I
may
wish
to
be
informed
of
that
before
I
dose
myself
with
either
or
with
both
.
Now
,
my
young
friends
,
what
is
this
Terewth
then
?
Firstly
(
in
a
spirit
of
love
)
,
what
is
the
common
sort
of
Terewth
—
the
working
clothes
—
the
every
-
day
wear
,
my
young
friends
?
Is
it
deception
?
"
"
Ah
—
h
!
"
from
Mrs
.
Snagsby
.
"
Is
it
suppression
?
"
A
shiver
in
the
negative
from
Mrs
.
Snagsby
.
"
Is
it
reservation
?
"
A
shake
of
the
head
from
Mrs
.
Snagsby
—
very
long
and
very
tight
.
"
No
,
my
friends
,
it
is
neither
of
these
.
Neither
of
these
names
belongs
to
it
.
When
this
young
heathen
now
among
us
—
who
is
now
,
my
friends
,
asleep
,
the
seal
of
indifference
and
perdition
being
set
upon
his
eyelids
;
but
do
not
wake
him
,
for
it
is
right
that
I
should
have
to
wrestle
,
and
to
combat
and
to
struggle
,
and
to
conquer
,
for
his
sake
—
when
this
young
hardened
heathen
told
us
a
story
of
a
cock
,
and
of
a
bull
,
and
of
a
lady
,
and
of
a
sovereign
,
was
THAT
the
Terewth
?
No
.
Or
if
it
was
partly
,
was
it
wholly
and
entirely
?
No
,
my
friends
,
no
!
"
If
Mr
.
Snagsby
could
withstand
his
little
woman
’
s
look
as
it
enters
at
his
eyes
,
the
windows
of
his
soul
,
and
searches
the
whole
tenement
,
he
were
other
than
the
man
he
is
.
He
cowers
and
droops
.
"
Or
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
"
says
Chadband
,
descending
to
the
level
of
their
comprehension
with
a
very
obtrusive
demonstration
in
his
greasily
meek
smile
of
coming
a
long
way
downstairs
for
the
purpose
,
"
if
the
master
of
this
house
was
to
go
forth
into
the
city
and
there
see
an
eel
,
and
was
to
come
back
,
and
was
to
call
unto
him
the
mistress
of
this
house
,
and
was
to
say
,
’
Sarah
,
rejoice
with
me
,
for
I
have
seen
an
elephant
!
’
would
THAT
be
Terewth
?
"
Mrs
.
Snagsby
in
tears
.
"
Or
put
it
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
that
he
saw
an
elephant
,
and
returning
said
’
Lo
,
the
city
is
barren
,
I
have
seen
but
an
eel
,
’
would
THAT
be
Terewth
?
"
Mrs
.
Snagsby
sobbing
loudly
.
"
Or
put
it
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
"
said
Chadband
,
stimulated
by
the
sound
,
"
that
the
unnatural
parents
of
this
slumbering
heathen
—
for
parents
he
had
,
my
juvenile
friends
,
beyond
a
doubt
—
after
casting
him
forth
to
the
wolves
and
the
vultures
,
and
the
wild
dogs
and
the
young
gazelles
,
and
the
serpents
,
went
back
to
their
dwellings
and
had
their
pipes
,
and
their
pots
,
and
their
flutings
and
their
dancings
,
and
their
malt
liquors
,
and
their
butcher
’
s
meat
and
poultry
,
would
THAT
be
Terewth
?
"
Mrs
.
Snagsby
replies
by
delivering
herself
a
prey
to
spasms
,
not
an
unresisting
prey
,
but
a
crying
and
a
tearing
one
,
so
that
Cook
’
s
Court
re
-
echoes
with
her
shrieks
.
Finally
,
becoming
cataleptic
,
she
has
to
be
carried
up
the
narrow
staircase
like
a
grand
piano
.
After
unspeakable
suffering
,
productive
of
the
utmost
consternation
,
she
is
pronounced
,
by
expresses
from
the
bedroom
,
free
from
pain
,
though
much
exhausted
,
in
which
state
of
affairs
Mr
.
Snagsby
,
trampled
and
crushed
in
the
piano
-
forte
removal
,
and
extremely
timid
and
feeble
,
ventures
to
come
out
from
behind
the
door
in
the
drawing
-
room
.
All
this
time
Jo
has
been
standing
on
the
spot
where
he
woke
up
,
ever
picking
his
cap
and
putting
bits
of
fur
in
his
mouth
.
He
spits
them
out
with
a
remorseful
air
,
for
he
feels
that
it
is
in
his
nature
to
be
an
unimprovable
reprobate
and
that
it
’
s
no
good
HIS
trying
to
keep
awake
,
for
HE
won
’
t
never
know
nothink
.
