Mrs Caudles Curtain Lectures | Page 8

And you must go and bail him! I know the end of that: he'll run away, and you'll have to pay the money. I should like to know what's the use of my working and slaving to save a farthing, when you throw away pounds upon your precious Skylarks. A pretty cold you'll have to-morrow morning, being called out of your warm bed this weather; but don't you think I'll nurse you--not I; not a drop of gruel do you get from me.
"I'm sure you've plenty of ways of spending your money--not throwing it away upon a set of dissolute peace-breakers. It's all very well for you to say you haven't thrown away your money, but you will. He'll be certain to run off; it isn't likely he'll go upon his trial, and you'll be fixed with the bail. Don't tell me there's no trial in the matter, because I know there is; it's for something more than quarrelling with the policeman that he was locked up. People aren't locked up for that. No, it's for robbery, or something worse, perhaps.
"And as you have bailed him, people will think you are as bad as he is. Don't tell me you couldn't help bailing him; you should have shown yourself a respectable man, and have let him been sent to prison.
"Now people know you're the friend of drunken and disorderly persons, you'll never have a night's sleep in your bed. Not that it would matter what fell upon you, if it wasn't your poor wife who suffered. Of course all the business will be in the newspapers, and your name with it. I shouldn't wonder, too, if they give your picture as they do the other folks of the Old Bailey. A pretty thing that, to go down to your children. I'm sure it will be enough to make them change their name. No, I shall not go to sleep; it's all very well for you to say, go to sleep, after such a disturbance. But I shall not go to sleep, Mr. Caudle; certainly not."
"Her will, I have no doubt," says Caudle, "was strong; but nature was stronger, and she did sleep; this night inflicting upon me a remarkably short lecture."

LECTURE V--MR. CAUDLE HAS REMAINED DOWNSTAIRS TILL PAST ONE, WITH A FRIEND

"Pretty time of night to come to bed, Mr. Caudle. Ugh! As cold, too, as any ice. Enough to give any woman her death, I'm sure. What!
"I SHOULDN'T HAVE LOCKED UP THE COALS?
"If I hadn't, I've no doubt the fellow would have stayed all night. It's all very well for you, Mr. Caudle, to bring people home--but I wish you'd think first what's for supper. That beautiful leg of pork would have served for our dinner to-morrow,--and now it's gone. I can't keep the house upon the money, and I won't pretend to do it, if you bring a mob of people every night to clear out the cupboard.
"I wonder who'll be so ready to give you a supper when you want one: for want one you will, unless you change your plans. Don't tell me! I know I'm right. You'll first be eaten up, and then you'll be laughed at. I know the world. No, indeed, Mr. Caudle, I don't think ill of everybody; don't say that. But I can't see a leg of pork eaten up in that way, without asking myself what it's all to end in if such things go on? And then he must have pickles, too! Couldn't be content with my cabbage--no, Mr. Caudle, I won't let you go to sleep. It's very well for you to say let you go to sleep, after you've kept me awake till this time.
"WHY DID I KEEP AWAKE?
"How do you suppose I could go to sleep when I knew that man was below drinking up your substance in brandy-and-water? for he couldn't be content upon decent, wholesome gin. Upon my word, you ought to be a rich man, Mr. Caudle. You have such very fine friends, I wonder who gives you brandy when you go out!
"No, indeed, he couldn't be content with my pickled cabbage--and I should like to know who makes better--but he must have walnuts. And you, too, like a fool--now, don't you think to stop me, Mr. Caudle; a poor woman may be trampled to death, and never say a word--you, too, like a fool--I wonder who'd do it for you--to insist upon the girl going out for pickled walnuts. And in such a night too! With snow upon the ground. Yes; you're a man of fine feelings, you are, Mr. Caudle; but the world doesn't know you as I know you--fine feelings, indeed! to send the poor girl out, when I told you and told your friend, too--a pretty brute he is,