Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens (1860-1861) - Chapter 27
Chapter XXVII
"MY DEAR MR PIP:--
"I write this by request of Mr. Gargery, for to let
you know that he is going to London in company with Mr. Wopsle and would be glad
if agreeable to be allowed to see you. He would call at Barnard's Hotel Tuesday
morning at nine o'clock, when if not agreeable please leave word. Your poor
sister is much the same as when you left. We talk of you in the kitchen every
night, and wonder what you are saying and doing. If now considered in the light
of a liberty, excuse it for the love of poor old days. No more, dear Mr. Pip,
from your ever obliged, and affectionate servant,
"BIDDY."
"P.S. He wishes me most particular to write what
larks. He says you will understand. I hope and do not doubt it will be agreeable
to see him, even though a gentleman, for you had ever a good heart, and he is a
worthy, worthy man. I have read him all, excepting only the last little
sentence, and he wishes me most particular to write again what larks."
I received this letter by the post on Monday morning,
and therefore its appointment was for next day. Let me confess exactly with what
feelings I looked forward to Joe's coming.
Not with pleasure, though I was bound to him by so many
ties; no; with considerable disturbance, some mortification, and a keen sense of
incongruity. If I could have kept him away by paying money, I certainly would
have paid money. My greatest reassurance was that he was coming to Barnard's
Inn, not to Hammersmith, and consequently would not fall in Bentley Drummle's
way. I had little objection to his being seen by Herbert or his father, for both
of whom I had a respect; but I had the sharpest sensitiveness as to his being
seen by Drummle, whom I held in contempt. So, throughout life, our worst
weaknesses and meannesses are usually committed for the sake of the people whom
we most despise.
I had begun to be always decorating the chambers in some
quite unnecessary and inappropriate way or other, and very expensive those
wrestles with Barnard proved to be. By this time, the rooms were vastly
different from what I had found them, and I enjoyed the honor of occupying a few
prominent pages in the books of a neighboring upholsterer. I had got on so fast
of late, that I had even started a boy in boots,--top boots,--in bondage and
slavery to whom I might have been said to pass my days. For, after I had made
the monster (out of the refuse of my washerwoman's family), and had clothed him
with a blue coat, canary waistcoat, white cravat, creamy breeches, and the boots
already mentioned, I had to find him a little to do and a great deal to eat; and
with both of those horrible requirements he haunted my existence.
This avenging phantom was ordered to be on duty at eight
on Tuesday morning in the hall, (it was two feet square, as charged for
floorcloth,) and Herbert suggested certain things for breakfast that he thought
Joe would like. While I felt sincerely obliged to him for being so interested
and considerate, I had an odd half-provoked sense of suspicion upon me, that if
Joe had been coming to see him, he wouldn't have been quite so brisk about it.
However, I came into town on the Monday night to be
ready for Joe, and I got up early in the morning, and caused the sitting-room
and breakfast-table to assume their most splendid appearance. Unfortunately the
morning was drizzly, and an angel could not have concealed the fact that Barnard
was shedding sooty tears outside the window, like some weak giant of a Sweep.
As the time approached I should have liked to run away,
but the Avenger pursuant to orders was in the hall, and presently I heard Joe on
the staircase. I knew it was Joe, by his clumsy manner of coming up stairs,--his
state boots being always too big for him,-- and by the time it took him to read
the names on the other floors in the course of his ascent. When at last he
stopped outside our door, I could hear his finger tracing over the painted
letters of my name, and I afterwards distinctly heard him breathing in at the
keyhole. Finally he gave a faint single rap, and Pepper--such was the
compromising name of the avenging boy--announced "Mr. Gargery!" I
thought he never would have done wiping his feet, and that I must have gone out
to lift him off the mat, but at last he came in.
"Joe, how are you, Joe?"
"Pip, how AIR you, Pip?"
With his good honest face all glowing and shining, and
his hat put down on the floor between us, he caught both my hands and worked
them straight up and down, as if I had been the last-patented Pump.
"I am glad to see you, Joe. Give me your hat."
But Joe, taking it up carefully with both hands, like a
bird's-nest with eggs in it, wouldn't hear of parting with that piece of
property, and persisted in standing talking over it in a most uncomfortable way.
"Which you have that growed," said Joe,
"and that swelled, and that gentle-folked;" Joe considered a little
before he discovered this word; "as to be sure you are a honor to your king
and country."
"And you, Joe, look wonderfully well."
"Thank God," said Joe, "I'm ekerval to most. And your sister,
she's no worse than she were. And Biddy, she's ever right and ready. And all
friends is no backerder, if not no forarder. 'Ceptin Wopsle; he's had a
drop."
All this time (still with both hands taking great care
of the bird's-nest), Joe was rolling his eyes round and round the room, and
round and round the flowered pattern of my dressing-gown.
"Had a drop, Joe?"
"Why yes," said Joe, lowering his voice,
"he's left the Church and went into the playacting. Which the playacting
have likeways brought him to London along with me. And his wish were," said
Joe, getting the bird's-nest under his left arm for the moment, and groping in
it for an egg with his right; "if no offence, as I would 'and you
that."
I took what Joe gave me, and found it to be the crumpled
play-bill of a small metropolitan theatre, announcing the first appearance, in
that very week, of "the celebrated Provincial Amateur of Roscian renown,
whose unique performance in the highest tragic walk of our National Bard has
lately occasioned so great a sensation in local dramatic circles."
"Were you at his performance, Joe?" I
inquired.
"I were," said Joe, with emphasis and
solemnity.
"Was there a great sensation?"
"Why," said Joe, "yes, there certainly
were a peck of orange-peel. Partickler when he see the ghost. Though I put it to
yourself, sir, whether it were calc'lated to keep a man up to his work with a
good hart, to be continiwally cutting in betwixt him and the Ghost with
"Amen!" A man may have had a misfortun' and been in the Church,"
said Joe, lowering his voice to an argumentative and feeling tone, "but
that is no reason why you should put him out at such a time. Which I meantersay,
if the ghost of a man's own father cannot be allowed to claim his attention,
what can, Sir? Still more, when his mourning 'at is unfortunately made so small
as that the weight of the black feathers brings it off, try to keep it on how
you may."
A ghost-seeing effect in Joe's own countenance informed
me that Herbert had entered the room. So, I presented Joe to Herbert, who held
out his hand; but Joe backed from it, and held on by the bird's-nest.
"Your servant, Sir," said Joe, "which I
hope as you and Pip"--here his eye fell on the Avenger, who was putting
some toast on table, and so plainly denoted an intention to make that young
gentleman one of the family, that I frowned it down and confused him more--
"I meantersay, you two gentlemen,--which I hope as you get your elths in
this close spot? For the present may be a werry good inn, according to London
opinions," said Joe, confidentially, "and I believe its character do
stand i; but I wouldn't keep a pig in it myself,--not in the case that I wished
him to fatten wholesome and to eat with a meller flavor on him."
Having borne this flattering testimony to the merits of
our dwelling-place, and having incidentally shown this tendency to call me
"sir," Joe, being invited to sit down to table, looked all round the
room for a suitable spot on which to deposit his hat,--as if it were only on
some very few rare substances in nature that it could find a resting place,--and
ultimately stood it on an extreme corner of the chimney-piece, from which it
ever afterwards fell off at intervals.
"Do you take tea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?"
asked Herbert, who always presided of a morning.
"Thankee, Sir," said Joe, stiff from head to
foot, "I'll take whichever is most agreeable to yourself."
"What do you say to coffee?"
"Thankee, Sir," returned Joe, evidently
dispirited by the proposal, "since you are so kind as make chice of coffee,
I will not run contrairy to your own opinions. But don't you never find it a
little 'eating?"
"Say tea then," said Herbert, pouring it out.
Here Joe's hat tumbled off the mantel-piece, and he
started out of his chair and picked it up, and fitted it to the same exact spot.
As if it were an absolute point of good breeding that it should tumble off again
soon.
"When did you come to town, Mr. Gargery?"
"Were it yesterday afternoon?" said Joe, after
coughing behind his hand, as if he had had time to catch the whooping-cough
since he came. "No it were not. Yes it were. Yes. It were yesterday
afternoon" (with an appearance of mingled wisdom, relief, and strict
impartiality).
"Have you seen anything of London yet?"
"Why, yes, Sir," said Joe, "me and Wopsle
went off straight to look at the Blacking Ware'us. But we didn't find that it
come up to its likeness in the red bills at the shop doors; which I
meantersay," added Joe, in an explanatory manner, "as it is there
drawd too architectooralooral."
I really believe Joe would have prolonged this word
(mightily expressive to my mind of some architecture that I know) into a perfect
Chorus, but for his attention being providentially attracted by his hat, which
was toppling. Indeed, it demanded from him a constant attention, and a quickness
of eye and hand, very like that exacted by wicket-keeping. He made extraordinary
play with it, and showed the greatest skill; now, rushing at it and catching it
neatly as it dropped; now, merely stopping it midway, beating it up, and
humoring it in various parts of the room and against a good deal of the pattern
of the paper on the wall, before he felt it safe to close with it; finally
splashing it into the slop-basin, where I took the liberty of laying hands upon
it.
As to his shirt-collar, and his coat-collar, they were
perplexing to reflect upon,--insoluble mysteries both. Why should a man scrape
himself to that extent, before he could consider himself full dressed? Why
should he suppose it necessary to be purified by suffering for his holiday
clothes? Then he fell into such unaccountable fits of meditation, with his fork
midway between his plate and his mouth; had his eyes attracted in such strange
directions; was afflicted with such remarkable coughs; sat so far from the
table, and dropped so much more than he ate, and pretended that he hadn't
dropped it; that I was heartily glad when Herbert left us for the City.
I had neither the good sense nor the good feeling to
know that this was all my fault, and that if I had been easier with Joe, Joe
would have been easier with me. I felt impatient of him and out of temper with
him; in which condition he heaped coals of fire on my head.
"Us two being now alone, sir,"--began Joe.
"Joe," I interrupted, pettishly, "how can
you call me, sir?"
Joe looked at me for a single instant with something
faintly like reproach. Utterly preposterous as his cravat was, and as his
collars were, I was conscious of a sort of dignity in the look.
"Us two being now alone," resumed Joe,
"and me having the intentions and abilities to stay not many minutes more,
I will now conclude--leastways begin--to mention what have led to my having had
the present honor. For was it not," said Joe, with his old air of lucid
exposition, "that my only wish were to be useful to you, I should not have
had the honor of breaking wittles in the company and abode of gentlemen."
I was so unwilling to see the look again, that I made no
remonstrance against this tone.
"Well, sir," pursued Joe, "this is how it
were. I were at the Bargemen t'other night, Pip;"--whenever he subsided
into affection, he called me Pip, and whenever he relapsed into politeness he
called me sir; "when there come up in his shay-cart, Pumblechook. Which
that same identical," said Joe, going down a new track, "do comb my
'air the wrong way sometimes, awful, by giving out up and down town as it were
him which ever had your infant companionation and were looked upon as a
playfellow by yourself."
"Nonsense. It was you, Joe."
"Which I fully believed it were, Pip," said
Joe, slightly tossing his head, "though it signify little now, sir. Well,
Pip; this same identical, which his manners is given to blusterous, come to me
at the Bargemen (wot a pipe and a pint of beer do give refreshment to the
workingman, sir, and do not over stimilate), and his word were, 'Joseph, Miss
Havisham she wish to speak to you.'"
"Miss Havisham, Joe?"
"'She wish,' were Pumblechook's word, 'to speak to
you.'" Joe sat and rolled his eyes at the ceiling.
"Yes, Joe? Go on, please."
"Next day, sir," said Joe, looking at me as if
I were a long way off, "having cleaned myself, I go and I see Miss A."
"Miss A., Joe? Miss Havisham?"
"Which I say, sir," replied Joe, with an air
of legal formality, as if he were making his will, "Miss A., or otherways
Havisham. Her expression air then as follering: 'Mr. Gargery. You air in
correspondence with Mr. Pip?' Having had a letter from you, I were able to say
'I am.' (When I married your sister, sir, I said 'I will;' and when I answered
your friend, Pip, I said 'I am.') 'Would you tell him, then,' said she, 'that
which Estella has come home and would be glad to see him.'"
I felt my face fire up as I looked at Joe. I hope one
remote cause of its firing may have been my consciousness that if I had known
his errand, I should have given him more encouragement.
"Biddy," pursued Joe, "when I got home
and asked her fur to write the message to you, a little hung back. Biddy says,
"I know he will be very glad to have it by word of mouth, it is holiday
time, you want to see him, go!" I have now concluded, sir," said Joe,
rising from his chair, "and, Pip, I wish you ever well and ever prospering
to a greater and a greater height."
"But you are not going now, Joe?"
"Yes I am," said Joe.
"But you are coming back to dinner, Joe?"
"No I am not," said Joe.
Our eyes met, and all the "ir" melted out of
that manly heart as he gave me his hand.
"Pip, dear old chap, life is made of ever so many
partings welded together, as I may say, and one man's a blacksmith, and one's a
whitesmith, and one's a goldsmith, and one's a coppersmith. Diwisions among such
must come, and must be met as they come. If there's been any fault at all
to-day, it's mine. You and me is not two figures to be together in London; nor
yet anywheres else but what is private, and beknown, and understood among
friends. It ain't that I am proud, but that I want to be right, as you shall
never see me no more in these clothes. I'm wrong in these clothes. I'm wrong out
of the forge, the kitchen, or off th' meshes. You won't find half so much fault
in me if you think of me in my forge dress, with my hammer in my hand, or even
my pipe. You won't find half so much fault in me if, supposing as you should
ever wish to see me, you come and put your head in at the forge window and see
Joe the blacksmith, there, at the old anvil, in the old burnt apron, sticking to
the old work. I'm awful dull, but I hope I've beat out something nigh the rights
of this at last. And so GOD bless you, dear old Pip, old chap, GOD bless
you!"
I had not been mistaken in my fancy that there was a
simple dignity in him. The fashion of his dress could no more come in its way
when he spoke these words than it could come in its way in Heaven. He touched me
gently on the forehead, and went out. As soon as I could recover myself
sufficiently, I hurried out after him and looked for him in the neighboring
streets; but he was gone.