Mr. Wardle's Servant Joe Page #3
"Mr. Wardle's Servant Joe" is a short story by Charles Dickens that offers a humorous yet poignant glimpse into the lives of the lower classes in Victorian England. The narrative centers around Joe, a comical and somewhat bumbling servant employed by Mr. Wardle, who navigates the challenges of his position with a blend of wit and sincerity. Through Joe's interactions with his employer and the other characters, Dickens explores themes of class disparity, social expectations, and human resilience. The story is notable for its vivid characterizations and the author's trademark social commentary, illuminating the complexities of life below the surface of polite society.
packages to see that they had all arrived when he felt himself gently pulled by the skirts of his coat. Looking around he discovered that the individual who used this means of drawing his attention was no other than Mr. Wardle's favorite page, the fat boy. "Aha!" said Mr. Pickwick. "Ah!" said the fat boy, and as he said it he glanced from the wine to the oysters and chuckled joyously. He was fatter than ever. "Well, you look rosy enough my young friend," said Mr. Pickwick. "I have been sitting in front of the fire," replied the fat boy, who had indeed heated himself to the color of a new chimney pot in the course of an hour's nap. "Master sent me over with the cart to carry your luggage over to the house." Mr. Pickwick called his man, Sam Weller, to him and said, "Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put the packages into the cart and then ride on with him. We prefer to walk." Having given this direction Mr. Pickwick and his three friends walked briskly away, leaving Mr. Weller and the fat boy face to face for the first time. Sam looked at the fat boy with great astonishment but without saying a word, and began to put the things rapidly upon the cart while Joe stood calmly by and seemed to think it a very interesting sort of thing to see Mr. Weller working by himself. "There," said Sam, "everything packed at last. There they are." "Yes," said the fat boy in a very satisfied tone, "there they are." "Well, young twenty stone," said Sam. "You're a nice specimen, you are." "Thankee," said the fat boy. "You ain't got nothing on your mind as makes you fret yourself, have you?" inquired Sam. "Not as I knows of," replied the boy. "I should rather have thought, to look at you, that you was a laborin' under a disappointed love affair with some young woman," said Sam. "Vell, young boa-constrictor," said Sam, "I'm glad to hear it. Do you ever drink anythin'?" "I likes eatin' better," replied the boy. "Ah!" said Sam. "I should ha' 'sposed that, but I 'spose you were never cold with all them elastic fixtures?" "Was sometimes," replied the boy, "and I likes a drop of something that's good." "Ah! you do, do you," said Sam, "come this way." Then after a short interruption they got into the cart. "You can drive, can you?" said the fat boy. "I should rather think so," replied Sam. "Well then," said the fat boy, putting the reins in his hands and pointing up a lane, "it's as straight as you can drive. You can't miss it." With these words the fat boy laid himself affectionately down by the side of the provisions and placing an oyster barrel under his head for a pillow, fell asleep instantly. "Vell," said Sam, "of all the boys ever I set my eyes on--wake up young dropsy." But as young dropsy could not be awakened, Sam Weller set himself down in front of the cart, started the old horse with a jerk of the rein, and jogged steadily on toward Manor Farm.
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