With that piece of comfort, very ruefully uttered,
he went, in anything but a jolly manner, to bed.
He rose early next morning, and was a-foot soon after
sunrise. But it was of no use; the whole place
was up to see Mark Tapley off; the boys, the dogs,
the children, the old men, the busy people and the
idlers; there they were, all calling out ‘Good-b’ye,
Mark,’ after their own manner, and all sorry
he was going. Somehow he had a kind of sense that
his old mistress was peeping from her chamber-window,
but he couldn’t make up his mind to look back.
‘Good-b’ye one, good-b’ye all!’
cried Mark, waving his hat on the top of his walking-stick,
as he strode at a quick pace up the little street.
’Hearty chaps them wheelwrights—hurrah!
Here’s the butcher’s dog a-coming out
of the garden—down, old fellow! And
Mr Pinch a-going to his organ—good-b’ye,
sir! And the terrier-bitch from over the way—hie,
then, lass! And children enough to hand down human
natur to the latest posterity—good-b’ye,
boys and girls! There’s some credit in it
now. I’m a-coming out strong at last.
These are the circumstances that would try a ordinary
mind; but I’m uncommon jolly. Not quite
as jolly as I could wish to be, but very near.
Good-b’ye! good-b’ye!’
Accompanies Mr pecksniff and his
charming daughters to the city
of London; and relates what
fell out upon their way thither
When Mr Pecksniff and the two young ladies got into
the heavy coach at the end of the lane, they found
it empty, which was a great comfort; particularly
as the outside was quite full and the passengers looked
very frosty. For as Mr Pecksniff justly observed—when
he and his daughters had burrowed their feet deep
in the straw, wrapped themselves to the chin, and
pulled up both windows—it is always satisfactory
to feel, in keen weather, that many other people are
not as warm as you are. And this, he said, was
quite natural, and a very beautiful arrangement; not
confined to coaches, but extending itself into many
social ramifications. ‘For’ (he observed),
’if every one were warm and well-fed, we should
lose the satisfaction of admiring the fortitude with
which certain conditions of men bear cold and hunger.
And if we were no better off than anybody else, what
would become of our sense of gratitude; which,’
said Mr Pecksniff with tears in his eyes, as he shook
his fist at a beggar who wanted to get up behind, ’is
one of the holiest feelings of our common nature.’
His children heard with becoming reverence these moral
precepts from the lips of their father, and signified
their acquiescence in the same, by smiles. That
he might the better feed and cherish that sacred flame
of gratitude in his breast, Mr Pecksniff remarked
that he would trouble his eldest daughter, even in
this early stage of their journey, for the brandy-bottle.
And from the narrow neck of that stone vessel he imbibed
a copious refreshment.
