Martin Rattler | Page 8

little and doing much.
Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr. Jollyboy had received information of Mrs. Grumbit's stocking movement. That same afternoon he put on his broad-brimmed white hat, and, walking out to the village in which she lived, called upon the vicar, who was a particular and intimate friend of his. Having ascertained from the vicar that Mrs. Grumbit would not accept of charity, he said abruptly,--
"And why not,--is she too proud?"
"By no means," replied the vicar. "She says that she would think shame to take money from friends as long as she can work, because every penny that she would thus get would be so much less to go to the helpless poor; of whom, she says, with much truth, there are enough and to spare. And I quite agree with her as regards her principle; but it does not apply fully to her, for she cannot work so as to procure a sufficient livelihood without injury to her health."
"Is she clever?" inquired Mr. Jollyboy.
"Why, no, not particularly. In fact, she does not often exert her reasoning faculties, except in the common-place matters of ordinary and every-day routine."
"Then she's cleverer than most people," said Mr. Jollyboy, shortly. "Is she obstinate?"
"No, not in the least," returned the vicar with a puzzled smile.
"Ah, well, good-bye, good-bye; that's all I want to know."
Mr. Jollyboy rose, and hurrying through the village, tapped at the cottage door, and was soon closeted with Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit. In the course of half an hour, Mr. Jollyboy drew from Mrs. Grumbit as much about her private affairs as he could, without appearing rude. But he found the old lady very close and sensitive on that point. Not so, however, when he got her upon the subject of her nephew. She had enough, and more than enough, to say about him. It is true she began by remarking, sadly, that he was a very bad boy; but, as she continued to talk about him, she somehow or other gave her visitor the impression that he was a very good boy! They had a wonderfully long and confidential talk about Martin, during which Mr. Jollyboy struck Mrs. Grumbit nearly dumb with horror by stating positively what he would do for the boy,--he would send him to sea! Then, seeing that he had hit the wrongest possible nail on the head, he said that he would make the lad a clerk in his office, where he would be sure to rise to a place of trust; whereat Mrs. Grumbit danced, if we may so speak, into herself for joy.
"And now, ma'am, about these stockings. I want two thousand pairs as soon as I can get them!"
"Sir?" said Mrs. Grumbit.
"Of course, not for my own use, ma'am; nor for the use of my family, for I have no family; and if I had, that would be an unnecessarily large supply. The fact is, Mrs. Grumbit, I am a merchant, and I send very large supplies of home-made articles to foreign lands, and two thousand pairs of socks are a mere driblet. Of course I do not expect you to make them all for me, but I wish you to make as many pairs as you can."
"I shall be very happy--" began Mrs. Grumbit.
"But, Mrs. Grumbit, there is a peculiar formation which I require in my socks that will give you extra trouble, I fear; but I must have it, whatever the additional expense may be. What is your charge for the pair you are now making?"
"Three shillings," said Mrs. Grumbit.
"Ah! very good. Now, take up the wires if you please, ma'am, and do what I tell you. Now, drop that stitch,--good; and take up this one,--capital; and pull this one across that way,--so; and that one across this way,--exactly. Now, what is the result?"
The result was a complicated knot; and Mrs. Grumbit, after staring a few seconds at the old gentleman in surprise, said so, and begged to know what use it was of.
"Oh, never mind, never mind. We merchants have strange fancies, and foreigners have curious tastes now and then. Please to make all my socks with a hitch like that in them all round, just above the ankle. It will form an ornamental ring. I'm sorry to put you to the trouble, but of course I pay extra for fancy-work. Will six shillings a pair do for these?"
"My dear sir," said Mrs. Grumbit, "it is no additional--"
"Well, well, never mind," said Mr. Jollyboy. "Two thousand pairs, remember, as soon as possible,--close knitted, plain stitch, rather coarse worsted; and don't forget the hitch, Mrs. Grumbit, don't forget the hitch."
Ah! reader, there are many Mrs. Grumbits in this world, requiring hitches to be made in their stockings!
At this moment the door burst open. Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit uttered a