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. Hat-bands, 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 upstairs,' 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 arterward 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 arterwards quite bold, to break the news,
and offering to drown himself if sech 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 connection 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'rythink 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, her name 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 an'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 pointblank.'
'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'm 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 fail. Our charges is but low, sir'--Mrs Gamp
addressed herself to John on this head--'considerin' the nater of
our painful dooty. If they wos 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
overhearing 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
easy-chair, which she indignantly declared was 'harder than a
brickbadge.' Next she pursued her researches among the
physic-bottles, 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. 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 believe 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 rush-light, 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! What 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, an'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!'
