“Mary,” said Mr. Muzzle to the pretty servant-girl, “this is Mr. Weller; a gentleman as master has sent down, to be made as comfortable as possible.”
“And your master’s a knowin’ hand, and has just sent me to the right place,” said Mr. Weller, with a glance of admiration at Mary. “If I wos master o’ this here house, I should alvays find the materials for comfort vere Mary wos.”
“Lor, Mr. Weller!” said Mary blushing.
“Well, I never!” ejaculated the cook.
“Bless me, cook, I forgot you,” said Mr. Muzzle. “Mr. Weller, let me introduce you.”
“How are you, ma’am?” said Mr. Weller. “Wery glad to see you, indeed, and hope our acquaintance may be a long ’un, as the gen’l’m’n said to the fi’ pun’ note.”
When this ceremony of introduction had been gone through, the cook and Mary retired into the back kitchen to titter, for ten minutes; then returning, all giggles and blushes, they sat down to dinner.
Mr. Weller’s easy manners and conversational powers had such irresistible influence with his new friends, that before the dinner was half over, they were on a footing of perfect intimacy, and in possession of a full account of the delinquency of Job Trotter.
“I never could a-bear that Job,” said Mary.
“No more you never ought to, my dear,” replied Mr. Weller.
“Why not?” inquired Mary.
“ ’Cos ugliness and svindlin’ never ought to be formiliar with elegance and wirtew,” replied Mr. Weller. “Ought they, Mr. Muzzle?”
“Not by no means,” replied that gentleman.
Here Mary laughed, and said the cook had made her; and the cook laughed, and said she hadn’t.
“I ha’n’t got a glass,” said Mary.
“Drink with me, my dear,” said Mr. Weller. “Put your lips to this here tumbler, and then I can kiss you by deputy.”
“For shame, Mr. Weller!” said Mary.
“What’s a shame, my dear?”
“Talkin’ in that way.”
“Nonsense; it ain’t no harm. It’s natur; ain’t it, cook?”
“Don’t ask me, imperence,” replied the cook, in a high state of delight; and hereupon the cook and Mary laughed again, till what between the beer, and the cold meat, and the laughter combined, the latter young lady was brought to the verge of choking—an alarming crisis from which she was only recovered by sundry pats on the back, and other necessary attentions, most delicately administered by Mr. Samuel Weller.
In the midst of all this jollity and conviviality, a loud ring was heard at the garden gate, to which the young gentleman who took his meals in the washhouse, immediately responded. Mr. Weller was in the height of his attentions to the pretty housemaid; Mr. Muzzle was busy doing the honours of the table; and the cook had just paused to laugh, in the very act of raising a huge morsel to her lips; when the kitchen door opened, and in walked Mr. Job Trotter.
We have said in walked Mr. Job Trotter, but the statement is not distinguished by our usual scrupulous adherence to fact. The door opened and Mr. Trotter appeared. He would have walked in, and was in the very act of doing so, indeed, when catching sight of Mr. Weller, he involuntarily shrank back a pace or two, and stood gazing on the unexpected scene before him, perfectly motionless with amazement and terror.
“Here he is!” said Sam, rising with great glee. “Why we were that wery moment a-speaking o’ you. How are you? Where have you been? Come in.”
Laying his hand on the mulberry collar of the unresisting Job, Mr. Weller dragged him into the kitchen; and, locking the door, handed the key to Mr. Muzzle, who very coolly buttoned it up in a side pocket.
“Well, here’s a game!” cried Sam. “Only think o’ my master havin’ the pleasure o’ meeting yourn upstairs, and me havin’ the joy o’ meetin’ you down here. How are you gettin’ on, and how is the chandlery bis’ness likely to do? Well, I am so glad to see you. How happy you look. It’s quite a treat to see you; ain’t it, Mr. Muzzle?”
“Quite,” said Mr. Muzzle.
“So cheerful he is!” said Sam.
“In such good spirits!” said Muzzle.
“And so glad to see us—that makes it so much more comfortable,” said Sam. “Sit down; sit down.”
Mr. Trotter suffered himself to be forced into a chair by the fireside. He cast his small eyes, first on Mr. Weller, and then on Mr. Muzzle, but said nothing.
“Well, now,” said Sam, “afore these here ladies, I should jest like to ask you, as a sort of curiosity, whether you don’t consider yourself as nice and well-behaved a young gen’l’m’n, as ever used a pink check pocket-handkerchief, and the number four collection?”
“And as was ever a-going to be married to a cook,” said that lady indignantly. “The willin!”
“And leave off his evil ways, and set up in the chandlery line arterwards,” said the housemaid.
“Now, I’ll tell you what it is, young man,” said Mr. Muzzle solemnly, enraged at the last two allusions, “this here lady (pointing to the cook) keeps company with me; and when you presume, Sir, to talk of keeping chandlers’ shops with her, you injure me in one of the most delicatest points in which one man can injure another. Do you understand that, Sir?”
Here Mr. Muzzle, who had a great notion of his eloquence, in which he imitated his master, paused for a reply.
But Mr. Trotter made no reply. So Mr. Muzzle proceeded in a solemn manner—
“It’s very probable, sir, that you won’t be wanted upstairs for several minutes, Sir, because my master is at this moment particularly engaged in settling the hash of your master, Sir; and therefore you’ll have leisure, Sir, for a little private talk with me, Sir. Do you understand that, Sir?”
Mr. Muzzle again paused for a reply; and again Mr. Trotter disappointed him.
“Well, then,” said Mr. Muzzle, “I’m very sorry to have to explain myself before ladies, but the urgency of the case will be my excuse. The back kitchen’s empty, Sir. If you will step in there, Sir, Mr. Weller will see fair, and we can have
