Fatal Boots | Page 5

months she has been with us. Then, for baby, there
is Dr. Bates's bill of forty-five guineas, two guineas for christening,
twenty for a grand christening supper and ball (rich uncle John mortally
offended because he was made godfather, and had to give baby a silver
cup: he has struck Thomas out of his will: and old Mr. Firkin quite as
much hurt because he was NOT asked: he will not speak to me or
Thomas in consequence) twenty guineas for flannels, laces, little gowns,
caps, napkins, and such baby's ware: and all this out of 300L. a year!
But Thomas expects to make A GREAT DEAL by his farm.
"We have got the most charming country-house YOU CAN IMAGINE:
it is QUITE SHUT IN by trees, and so retired that, though only thirty
miles from London, the post comes to us but once a week. The roads, it
must be confessed, are execrable; it is winter now, and we are up to our
knees in mud and snow. But oh, Eliza! how happy we are: with
Thomas (he has had a sad attack of rheumatism, dear man!) and little
Bobby, and our kind friend Dr. Bates, who comes so far to see us, I
leave you to fancy that we have a charming merry party, and do not
care for all the gayeties of Ranelagh.
"Adieu! dear baby is crying for his mamma. A thousand kisses from
your affectionate
"SUSAN STUBBS."
There it is! Doctor's bills, gentleman-farming, twenty-one pints of
porter a week. In this way my unnatural parents were already robbing

me of my property.
FEBRUARY.--CUTTING WEATHER.
I have called this chapter "cutting weather," partly in compliment to the
month of February, and partly in respect of my own misfortunes, which
you are going to read about. For I have often thought that January
(which is mostly twelfth-cake and holiday time) is like the first four or
five years of a little boy's life; then comes dismal February, and the
working-days with it, when chaps begin to look out for themselves,
after the Christmas and the New Year's heyday and merrymaking are
over, which our infancy may well be said to be. Well can I recollect
that bitter first of February, when I first launched out into the world and
appeared at Doctor Swishtail's academy.
I began at school that life of prudence and economy which I have
carried on ever since. My mother gave me eighteenpence on setting out
(poor soul! I thought her heart would break as she kissed me, and bade
God bless me); and, besides, I had a small capital of my own which I
had amassed for a year previous. I'll tell you, what I used to do.
Wherever I saw six halfpence I took one. If it was asked for I said I had
taken it and gave it back;--if it was not missed, I said nothing about it,
as why should I?--those who don't miss their money, don't lose their
money. So I had a little private fortune of three shillings, besides
mother's eighteenpence. At school they called me the copper-merchant,
I had such lots of it.
Now, even at a preparatory school, a well-regulated boy may better
himself: and I can tell you I did. I never was in any quarrels: I never
was very high in the class or very low: but there was no chap so much
respected:--and why? I'D ALWAYS MONEY. The other boys spent all
theirs in the first day or two, and they gave me plenty of cakes and
barley-sugar then, I can tell you. I'd no need to spend my own money,
for they would insist upon treating me. Well, in a week, when theirs
was gone, and they had but their threepence a week to look to for the
rest of the half-year, what did I do? Why, I am proud to say that
three-halfpence out of the threepence a week of almost all the young
gentlemen at Dr. Swishtail's, came into my pocket. Suppose, for
instance, Tom Hicks wanted a slice of gingerbread, who had the money?
Little Bob Stubbs, to be sure. "Hicks," I used to say, "I'LL buy you
three halfp'orth of gingerbread, if you'll give me threepence next

Saturday." And he agreed; and next Saturday came, and he very often
could not pay me more than three-halfpence. Then there was the
threepence I was to have THE NEXT Saturday. I'll tell you what I did
for a whole half- year:--I lent a chap, by the name of Dick Bunting,
three-halfpence the first Saturday for three-pence the next: he could not
pay me more than half when Saturday came, and I'm blest if I did not
make him pay me three-halfpence FOR THREE-AND-TWENTY
WEEKS RUNNING, making two shillings and tenpence-halfpenny.
But he