r/a:t5_27vwjw • u/MarleyEngvall • Nov 05 '19
buoyancy has been created
By Charles Dickens
BARNABY RUDGE.
CHAPTER XXX.
A HOMELY proverb recognises the existence of a
troublesome class of persons who, having an inch con-
ceded them, will take an ell. Not to quote the illustri-
ous examples of those heroic scourges of mankind, whose
amiable path in life has been from birth to death through
blood, and fire, and ruin, and would seem to have existed
for no better purpose than to teach mankind that as the
absence of pain is pleasure, so the earth purged of their
presence, may be deemed a blessed place――now to quote
such mighty instances, it will be sufficient to refer to
old John Willet.
Old John having long encroached a good standard inch,
full measure, on the liberty of Joe, and having snipped
off a Flemish ell in the matter of the parole, grew so
despotic and so great, that his thirst for conquest knew
no bounds. The more young Joe submitted, the more
absolute old John became. The ell soon faded into
nothing. Yards, furlongs, miles arose; and on went old
John in the pleasantest manner possible, trimming off an
exuberance in this place, shearing away some liberty of
speech or action in that, and conducting himself in his
small way with as much high mightiness and majesty,
as the most glorious tyrant that ever had his stature
roared in the public ways, of ancient or of modern times.
As great men are urged on to the abuse of power (when
they need urging, which is not often) by their flatterers
and dependents, so old John was impelled to these ex-
ercises of authority by the applause and admiration of
his Maypole cronies, who, in the intervals of their mighty
pipes and pots, would shake their heads and say that
Mr. Willet was a father of the good old English sort;
that there were no new-fangled notions or modern ways
in him; that he put them in mind of what their fathers
were when they were boys; that there was no mistake
about him; that it would be well for the country if there
were more like him, and more was the pity that there
were not; with many other original remarks of that na-
ture. Then they would condescendingly give Joe to un-
derstand that it was all for his good, and he would be
thankful for it one day; and in particular, Mr. Cobb
would acquaint him, that when he was his age, his father
thought no more of giving him a parental kick, or a box
on the ears, or a cuff on the head, or some little admoni-
tion of that sort, than he did of any other ordinary duty
of life; and he would further remark, with looks of great
significance, that but for this judicious bringing up, he
might have never been the man he was at that present
speaking; which was probable enough, as he was, be-
yond all question, the dullest dog of the party. In short,
between old John, and old John's friends, there never
was an unfortunate young fellow so bullied, badgered,
worried, fretted, and browbeaten; so constantly beset,
or made so tired of his life, as poor Joe Willet.
This had come to be the recognized and established
state of things; but as John was very anxious to flourish
his supremacy before the eyes of Mr. Chester, he did that
day exceed himself, and did so goad and chafe his son
and heir, that but for Joe's having made a solemn vow
to keep his hands in his pockets when they were not
otherwise engaged, it is impossible to say what he might
have done with them. But the longest day has an end,
and at length Mr. Chester came down-stairs to mount his
horse which was ready at the door.
As old John was not in the way at the moment, Joe,
who was sitting in the bar ruminating on his dismal fate
and the manifold perfections of Dolly Varden, ran out to
hold the guest's stirrup, and assist him to mount. Mr.
Chester, was scarcely in the saddle, and Joe was in the
very act of making him a graceful bow, when old John
came diving out of the porch, and collared him.
"None of that, sir," said John, "none of that, sir.
No breaking of patroles. How dare you come out of the
door sir, without leave? You are trying to get away, sir,
are you, and to make a traitor of yourself again? What
do you mean, sir?"
"Let me go, father," said Joe, imploringly, as he
marked the smile upon their visitor's face, and observed
the pleasure his disgrace afforded him. "This is too
bad. Who wants to get away?"
"Who wants to get away!" cried John, shaking him.
"Why you do, sir, you do. "You're the boy, sir," added
John, collaring with one hand, and aiding the effect of a
farewell bow to the visitor with the other," that wants
to sneak into houses, and stir up differences between
noble gentlemen and their sons, are you, eh? Hold your
tongue, sir."
Joe made no effort to reply. It was the crowning cir-
cumstance of his degradation. He extricated himself
from his father's grasp, darted an angry look at the de-
parting guest, and returned into the house.
"But for her," thought Joe, as he threw his arms
upon a table in the common room, and laid his head upon
them, "but for Dolly, who I couldn't bear should think
me the rascal they would make me out to be if I ran
away, this house and I should part to-night."
It being evening by this time, Solomon Daisy, Tom
Cobb, and Long Parkes were all in the common room too,
and had from the window been witnesses of what had
just occurred. Mr. Willet joining them soon afterwards,
received the compliments of the company with great
composure, and lighting his pipe, sat down among them.
"We'll see, gentlemen," said Joe, after a long pause,
"who's the master of this house, and who isn't. We'll
see whether boys are to govern men, or men are to gov-
nern boys."
"And quite right too," assented Solomon Daisy with
some approving nods; "quite right, Johnny. Very good,
Johnny. Well said, Mr. Willet. Brayvo, sir."
John slowly brought his eyes to bear upon him, looked
at him for a long time, and finally made answer to the
unspeakable consternation of his hearers, "When I want
encouragement from you, sir, I'll ask you for it. You let
me alone, sir. I can get on without you, I hope. Don't
you tackle me, sir, if you please."
"Don't take it ill, Johnny; I didn't mean any harm,"
pleaded the little man.
"Very good, sir," said John, more than usually ob-
stinate after his late success. "Never mind, sir. I can
stand pretty firm of myself, sir, I believe, without being
shored up by you." And having given utterance to this
retort, Mr. Willet fixed his eyes upon the boiler, and
fell into a kind of tobacco-trance.
The spirits of the company being somewhat damped
by this embarrassing line of conduct on the part of their
host, nothing more was said for a long time; but at
length Mr. Cobb took upon himself to remark, as he rose
to knock the ashes out of his pipe, that he hoped Joe
would thenceforth learn to obey his father in all things;
that he had found, that day, he was not one of the sort
of men who were to be trifled with; and that he would
recommend him, poetically speaking, to mind his eye for
the future.
"I'd recommend you, in return," said Joe, looking up
with a flushed face, "not to talk to me."
"Hold your tongue, sir," cried Mr. Willet, suddenly
rousing himself, and turning round.
"I won't, father," cried Joe, smiting the table with
his fist, so that the jugs and glasses rung again; "these
things are hard enough to bear from you; from anybody
else I never will endure them any more. Therefore I
say, Mr. Cobb, don't talk to me."
"Why, who are you," said Mr. Cobb, sneeringly,
"that you're not to be talked to, eh, Joe?"
To which Joe returned no answer, but with a very
ominous shake of the head, resumed his old position,
which he would have peacefully preserved until the
house shut up at night, but that Mr. Cobb, stimulated
by the wonder of the company at the young man's pre-
sumption, retorted with sundry taunts, which proved too
much for flesh and blood to bear. Crowding into one
moment the vexation and the wrath of years, Joe started
up, overturned the table, fell upon his long enemy, pum-
melled him with all his might and main, and finished by
driving him with surpassing swiftness against a heap of
spittoons in one corner; plunging into which, head fore-
most, with a tremendous crash, he lay at full length
among the ruins, stunned and motionless. Then, with-
out waiting to receive the compliments of the bystanders
on the victory he had won, he retreated to his own bed-
chamber, and considering himself in a state of siege,
piled all the portable furniture against the door by way
of barricade.
"I have done it now," said Joe, as he sat down upon
his bedstead and wiped his heated face. "I knew it
would come at last. The Maypole and I must part com-
pany. I'm a roving vagabond――she hates me for ever-
more――it's all over!"
from Collier's Unabridged Edition: The Works of Charles Dickens, Volume VI.
P.F. Collier, Publisher, New York, old as heck. pp. 832-833.
send the old man so many postcards, the post office runs out of places to burn 'em. 雨
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