Todgers' Page #3

"Todgers'" is a lesser-known work by Charles Dickens that explores the bustling life of 19th-century London, centering around a fictional tavern and the diverse characters who frequent it. Through vivid storytelling and keen social commentary, Dickens delves into themes of poverty, class, and the human condition, showcasing his signature blend of humor and pathos. The narrative captures the lively atmosphere of the era while highlighting the struggles and triumphs of everyday people, making it a rich reflection of Victorian society.

• Children

								

a blue-bottle in a world of cobwebs.

To this mansion, Mr. Pecksniff, accompanied by his daughters and Mrs.
Todgers, drove gallantly in a one-horse fly. The foregoing ceremonies
having been all performed, they were ushered into the house, and so, by
degrees, they got at last into a small room with books in it, where Mr.
Pinch's sister was at that moment instructing her eldest pupil: to wit,
a little woman thirteen years old, who had already arrived at such a
pitch of whalebone and education that she had nothing girlish about her;
which was a source of great rejoicing to all her relations and friends.

"Visitors for Miss Pinch!" said the footman. He must have been an
ingenious young man, for he said it very cleverly; with a nice
distinction in his manner between the cold respect with which he would
have announced visitors to the family and the warm personal interest
with which he would have announced visitors to the cook.

"Visitors for Miss Pinch!"

Miss Pinch rose hastily with such tokens of agitation as plainly
declared that her list of callers was not numerous. At the same time,
the little pupil became alarmingly upright, and prepared herself to take
notice of all that might be said and done. For the lady of the
establishment was curious in the natural history and habits of the
animal called Governess, and encouraged her daughters to report thereon
whenever occasion served; which was, in reference to all parties
concerned, very proper, improving, and pleasant.

It is a melancholy fact, but it must be related, that Mr. Pinch's sister
was not at all ugly. On the contrary, she had a good face--a very mild
and friendly face; and a pretty little figure--slight and short, but
remarkable for its neatness. There was something of her brother, much of
him indeed, in a certain gentleness of manner, and in her look of timid
truthfulness; but she was so far from being a fright, or a dowdy, or a
horror, or anything else predicted by the two Misses Pecksniff, that
those young ladies naturally regarded her with great indignation,
feeling that this was by no means what they had come to see.

Miss Mercy, as having the larger share of gayety, bore up the best
against this disappointment, and carried it off, in outward show at
least, with a titter; but her sister, not caring to hide her disdain,
expressed it pretty openly in her looks. As to Mrs. Todgers, she leaned
on Mr. Pecksniff's arm and preserved a kind of genteel grimness,
suitable to any state of mind, and involving any shade of opinion.

"Don't be alarmed, Miss Pinch," said Mr. Pecksniff, taking her hand
condescendingly in one of his, and patting it with the other. "I have
called to see you, in pursuance of a promise given to your brother,
Thomas Pinch. My name--compose yourself, Miss Pinch--is Pecksniff."

The good man spoke these words as though he would have said, "You see in
me, young person, the friend of your race; the patron of your house; the
preserver of your brother, who is fed with manna daily from my table;
and in right of whom there is a considerable balance in my favor at
present standing in the books beyond the sky. But I have no pride, for I
can afford to do without it!"

The poor girl felt it all as if it had been Gospel Truth. Her brother,
writing in the fullness of his simple heart, had often told her so, and
how much more! As Mr. Pecksniff ceased to speak, she hung her head, and
dropped a tear upon his hand.

"Oh, very well, Miss Pinch!" thought the sharp pupil, "crying before
strangers as if you didn't like the situation!"

"Thomas is well," said Mr. Pecksniff; "and sends his love and this
letter. I cannot say, poor fellow, that he will ever become great in our
profession; but he has the will to do well, which is the next thing to
having the power; and, therefore, we must bear with him. Eh?"

"I know he has the will, sir," said Tom Pinch's sister, "and I know how
kindly and thoughtfully you cherish it, for which neither he nor I can
ever be grateful enough, as we often say in writing to each other. The
young ladies, too," she added, glancing gratefully at his two daughters.
"I know how much we owe to them."

"My dears," said Mr. Pecksniff, turning to them with a smile: "Thomas'
sister is saying something you will be glad to hear, I think."

"We can't take any merit to ourselves, papa!" cried Cherry, as they both
showed Tom Pinch's sister, with a courtesy, that they would feel obliged
if she would keep her distance. "Mr. Pinch's being so well provided for
is owing to you alone, and we can only say how glad we are to hear that
he is as grateful as he ought to be."

"Oh, very well, Miss Pinch!" thought the pupil again. "Got a grateful
brother, living on other people's kindness!"

"It was very kind of you," said Tom Pinch's sister, with Tom's own
simplicity and Tom's own smile, "to come here--very kind indeed: though
how great a kindness you have done me in gratifying my wish to see you,
and to thank you with my own lips, you, who make so light of benefits
conferred, can scarcely think."

"Very grateful; very pleasant; very proper;" murmured Mr. Pecksniff.

"It makes me happy too," said Ruth Pinch, who, now that her first
surprise was over, had a chatty, cheerful way with her, and a
single-hearted desire to look upon the best side of everything, which
was the very moral and image of Tom; "very happy to think that you will
be able to tell him how more than comfortably I am situated here, and
how unnecessary it is that he should ever waste a regret on my being
cast upon my own resources. Dear me! So long as I heard that he was
happy and he heard that I was," said Tom's sister, "we could both bear,
without one impatient or complaining thought, a great deal more than
ever we have had to endure, I am certain." And if ever the plain truth
were spoken on this occasionally false earth, Tom's sister spoke it when
she said that.

"Ah!" cried Mr. Pecksniff, whose eyes had in the meantime wandered to
the pupil; "certainly. And how do you do, my very interesting child?"

"Quite well, I thank you, sir," replied that frosty innocent.

"A sweet face this, my dears," said Mr. Pecksniff, turning to his
daughters. "A charming manner!"

Both young ladies had been in delight with the child of a wealthy house
(through whom the nearest road and shortest cut to her parents might be
supposed to lie) from the first. Mrs. Todgers vowed that anything
one-quarter so angelic she had never seen. "She wanted but a pair of
wings, a dear," said that good woman, "to be a young syrup"--meaning,
possibly, young sylph or seraph.

"If you will give that to your distinguished parents, my amiable little
friend," said Mr. Pecksniff, producing one of his professional cards,
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