I am tired with the bustle of to-day, and the novelty of
everything about me; and in such a case, there's no greater luxury
in the world, I think, than being read to sleep. You won't mind my
going to sleep, if I can?'
'Not at all!' cried Tom.
'Then begin as soon as you like. You needn't leave off when you
see me getting drowsy (unless you feel tired), for it's pleasant to
wake gradually to the sounds again. Did you ever try that?'
'No, I never tried that,' said Tom
'Well! You can, you know, one of these days when we're both in
the right humour. Don't mind leaving me in the dark. Look
sharp!'
Mr Pinch lost no time in moving away; and in a minute or two
returned with one of the precious volumes from the shelf beside his
bed. Martin had in the meantime made himself as comfortable as
circumstances would permit, by constructing before the fire a
temporary sofa of three chairs with Mercy's stool for a pillow, and
lying down at full-length upon it.
'Don't be too loud, please,' he said to Pinch.
'No, no,' said Tom.
'You're sure you're not cold'
'Not at all!' cried Tom.
'I am quite ready, then.'
Mr Pinch accordingly, after turning over the leaves of his book
with as much care as if they were living and highly cherished
creatures, made his own selection, and began to read. Before he had
completed fifty lines his friend was snoring.
'Poor fellow!' said Tom, softly, as he stretched out his head to
peep at him over the backs of the chairs. 'He is very young to have
so much trouble. How trustful and generous in him to bestow all
this confidence in me. And that was she, was it?'
But suddenly remembering their compact, he took up the poem at
the place where he had left off, and went on reading; always
forgetting to snuff the candle, until its wick looked like a
mushroom. He gradually became so much interested, that he quite
forgot to replenish the fire; and was only reminded of his neglect
by Martin Chuzzlewit starting up after the lapse of an hour or so,
and crying with a shiver.
'Why, it's nearly out, I declare! No wonder I dreamed of being
frozen. Do call for some coals. What a fellow you are, Pinch!'
CHAPTER SEVEN
IN WHICH MR CHEVY SLYME ASSERTS THE INDEPENDENCE OF HIS SPIRIT,
AND THE BLUE DRAGON LOSES A LIMB
Martin began to work at the grammar-school next morning, with so
much vigour and expedition, that Mr Pinch had new reason to do
homage to the natural endowments of that young gentleman, and to
acknowledge his infinite superiority to himself. The new pupil
received Tom's compliments very graciously; and having by this time
conceived a real regard for him, in his own peculiar way, predicted
that they would always be the very best of friends, and that
neither of them, he was certain (but particularly Tom), would ever
have reason to regret the day on which they became acquainted. Mr
Pinch was delighted to hear him say this, and felt so much
flattered by his kind assurances of friendship and protection, that
he was at a loss how to express the pleasure they afforded him. And
indeed it may be observed of this friendship, such as it was, that
it had within it more likely materials of endurance than many a
sworn brotherhood that has been rich in promise; for so long as the
one party found a pleasure in patronizing, and the other in being
patronised (which was in the very essence of their respective
characters), it was of all possible events among the least
probable, that the twin demons, Envy and Pride, would ever arise
between them. So in very many cases of friendship, or what passes
for it, the old axiom is reversed, and like clings to unlike more
than to like.
They were both very busy on the afternoon succeeding the
family's departure—Martin with the grammar-school, and Tom in
balancing certain receipts of rents, and deducting Mr Pecksniff's
commission from the same; in which abstruse employment he was much
distracted by a habit his new friend had of whistling aloud while
he was drawing—when they were not a little startled by the
unexpected obtrusion into that sanctuary of genius, of a human head
which, although a shaggy and somewhat alarming head in appearance,
smiled affably upon them from the doorway, in a manner that was at
once waggish, conciliatory, and expressive of approbation.
'I am not industrious myself, gents both,' said the head, 'but I
know how to appreciate that quality in others. I wish I may turn
grey and ugly, if it isn't in my opinion, next to genius, one of
the very charmingest qualities of the human mind. Upon my soul, I
am grateful to my friend Pecksniff for helping me to the
contemplation of such a delicious picture as you present. You
remind me of Whittington, afterwards thrice Lord Mayor of London. I
give you my unsullied word of honour, that you very strongly remind
me of that historical character. You are a pair of Whittingtons,
gents, without the cat; which is a most agreeable and blessed
exception to me, for I am not attached to the feline species. My
name is Tigg; how do you do?'
Martin looked to Mr Pinch for an explanation; and Tom, who had
never in his life set eyes on Mr Tigg before, looked to that
gentleman himself.
'Chevy Slyme?' said Mr Tigg, interrogatively, and kissing his
left hand in token of friendship. 'You will understand me when I
say that I am the accredited agent of Chevy Slyme; that I am the
ambassador from the court of Chiv? Ha ha!'
'Heyday!' asked Martin, starting at the mention of a name he
knew. 'Pray, what does he want with me?'
'If your name is Pinch'—Mr Tigg began.
'It is not' said Martin, checking himself. 'That is Mr
Pinch.'
'If that is Mr Pinch,' cried Tigg, kissing his hand again, and
beginning to follow his head into the room, 'he will permit me to
say that I greatly esteem and respect his character, which has been
most highly commended to me by my friend Pecksniff; and that I
deeply appreciate his talent for the organ, notwithstanding that I
do not, if I may use the expression, grind myself. If that is Mr
Pinch, I will venture to express a hope that I see him well, and
that he is suffering no inconvenience from the easterly wind?'
'Thank you,' said Tom. 'I am very well.'
'That is a comfort,' Mr Tigg rejoined. 'Then,' he added,
shielding his lips with the palm of his hand, and applying them
close to Mr Pinch's ear, 'I have come for the letter.'
'For the letter,' said Tom, aloud.
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