“Why, you see, speaking quite correctly, he has no right name. I always understood he took his name from being found on a sloppy night.”
“He seems an amiable fellow.”
“Bless you, sir, there’s not a bit of him,” returned Betty, “that’s not amiable. So you may judge how amiable he is, by running your eye along his heighth.”
Of an ungainly make was Sloppy. Too much of him longwise, too little of him broadwise, and too many sharp angles of him angle-wise. One of those shambling male human creatures, born to be indiscreetly candid in the revelation of buttons; every button he had about him glaring at the public to a quite preternatural extent. A considerable capital of knee and elbow and wrist and ankle, had Sloppy, and he didn’t know how to dispose of it to the best advantage, but was always investing it in wrong securities, and so getting himself into embarrassed circumstances. Full-Private Number One in the Awkward Squad of the rank and file of life, was Sloppy, and yet had his glimmering notions of standing true to the Colours.
“And now,” said Mrs. Boffin, “concerning Johnny.”
As Johnny, with his chin tucked in and lips pouting, reclined in Betty’s lap, concentrating his blue eyes on the visitors and shading them from observation with a dimpled arm, old Betty took one of his fresh fat hands in her withered right, and fell to gently beating it on her withered left.
“Yes, ma’am. Concerning Johnny.”
“If you trust the dear child to me,” said Mrs. Boffin, with a face inviting trust, “he shall have the best of homes, the best of care, the best of education, the best of friends. Please God I will be a true good mother to him!”
“I am thankful to you, ma’am, and the dear child would be thankful if he was old enough to understand.” Still lightly beating the little hand upon her own. “I wouldn’t stand in the dear child’s light, not if I had all my life before me instead of a very little of it. But I hope you won’t take it ill that I cleave to the child closer than words can tell, for he’s the last living thing left me.”
“Take it ill, my dear soul? Is it likely? And you so tender of him as to bring him home here!”
“I have seen,” said Betty, still with that light beat upon her hard rough hand, “so many of them on my lap. And they are all gone but this one! I am ashamed to seem so selfish, but I don’t really mean it. It’ll be the making of his fortune, and he’ll be a gentleman when I am dead. I—I—don’t know what comes over me. I—try against it. Don’t notice me!” The light beat stopped, the resolute mouth gave way, and the fine strong old face broke up into weakness and tears.
Now, greatly to the relief of the visitors, the emotional Sloppy no sooner beheld his patroness in this condition, than, throwing back his head and throwing open his mouth, he lifted up his voice and bellowed. This alarming note of something wrong instantly terrified Toddles and Poddles, who were no sooner heard to roar surprisingly, than Johnny, curving himself the wrong way and striking out at Mrs. Boffin with a pair of indifferent shoes, became a prey to despair. The absurdity of the situation put its pathos to the rout. Mrs. Betty Higden was herself in a moment, and brought them all to order with that speed, that Sloppy, stopping short in a polysyllabic bellow, transferred his energy to the mangle, and had taken several penitential turns before he could be stopped.
“There, there, there!” said Mrs. Boffin, almost regarding her kind self as the most ruthless of women. “Nothing is going to be done. Nobody need be frightened. We’re all comfortable; ain’t we, Mrs. Higden?”
“Sure and certain we are,” returned Betty.
“And there really is no hurry, you know,” said Mrs. Boffin in a lower voice. “Take time to think of it, my good creature!”
“Don’t you fear me no more, ma’am,” said Betty; “I thought of it for good yesterday. I don’t know what come over me just now, but it’ll never come again.”
“Well, then, Johnny shall have more time to think of it,” returned Mrs. Boffin; “the pretty child shall have time to get used to it. And you’ll get him more used to it, if you think well of it; won’t you?”
Betty undertook that, cheerfully and readily.
“Lor,” cried Mrs. Boffin, looking radiantly about her, “we want to make everybody happy, not dismal!—And perhaps you wouldn’t mind letting me know how used to it you begin to get, and how it all goes on?”
“I’ll send Sloppy,” said Mrs. Higden.
“And this gentleman who has come with me will pay him for his trouble,” said Mrs. Boffin. “And Mr. Sloppy, whenever you come to my house, be sure you never go away without having had a good dinner of meat, beer, vegetables, and pudding.”
This still further brightened the face of affairs; for, the highly sympathetic Sloppy, first broadly staring and grinning, and then roaring with laughter, Toddles and Poddles followed suit, and Johnny trumped the trick. T and P considering these favourable circumstances for the resumption of that dramatic descent upon Johnny, again came across-country hand-in-hand upon a buccaneering expedition; and this having been fought out in the chimney corner behind Mrs. Higden’s chair, with great valour on both sides, those desperate pirates returned hand-in-hand to their stools, across the dry bed of a mountain torrent.
“You must tell me what I can do for you, Betty my friend,” said Mrs. Boffin confidentially, “if not today, next time.”
“Thank you all the same, ma’am, but I want nothing for myself. I can work. I’m strong. I can walk twenty mile if I’m put to it.” Old Betty was proud, and said it with a sparkle in her bright eyes.
“Yes, but there are some little comforts that you wouldn’t be the worse for,” returned Mrs. Boffin.
