The Chimes | Page 6

Charles Dickens
once, and spread that for a cloth, and
call it a cloth, there's no law to prevent me; is there, father?'
'Not that I know of, my dear,' said Toby. 'But they're always a- bringing up some new law
or other.'
'And according to what I was reading you in the paper the other day, father; what the
Judge said, you know; we poor people are supposed to know them all. Ha ha! What a
mistake! My goodness me, how clever they think us!'
'Yes, my dear,' cried Trotty; 'and they'd be very fond of any one of us that DID know 'em
all. He'd grow fat upon the work he'd get, that man, and be popular with the gentlefolks in

his neighbourhood. Very much so!'
'He'd eat his dinner with an appetite, whoever he was, if it smelt like this,' said Meg,
cheerfully. 'Make haste, for there's a hot potato besides, and half a pint of fresh-drawn
beer in a bottle. Where will you dine, father? On the Post, or on the Steps? Dear, dear,
how grand we are. Two places to choose from!'
'The steps to-day, my Pet,' said Trotty. 'Steps in dry weather. Post in wet. There's a
greater conveniency in the steps at all times, because of the sitting down; but they're
rheumatic in the damp.'
'Then here,' said Meg, clapping her hands, after a moment's bustle; 'here it is, all ready!
And beautiful it looks! Come, father. Come!'
Since his discovery of the contents of the basket, Trotty had been standing looking at
her--and had been speaking too--in an abstracted manner, which showed that though she
was the object of his thoughts and eyes, to the exclusion even of tripe, he neither saw nor
thought about her as she was at that moment, but had before him some imaginary rough
sketch or drama of her future life. Roused, now, by her cheerful summons, he shook off a
melancholy shake of the head which was just coming upon him, and trotted to her side.
As he was stooping to sit down, the Chimes rang.
'Amen!' said Trotty, pulling off his hat and looking up towards them.
'Amen to the Bells, father?' cried Meg.
'They broke in like a grace, my dear,' said Trotty, taking his seat. 'They'd say a good one,
I am sure, if they could. Many's the kind thing they say to me.'
'The Bells do, father!' laughed Meg, as she set the basin, and a knife and fork, before him.
'Well!'
'Seem to, my Pet,' said Trotty, falling to with great vigour. 'And where's the difference? If
I hear 'em, what does it matter whether they speak it or not? Why bless you, my dear,'
said Toby, pointing at the tower with his fork, and becoming more animated under the
influence of dinner, 'how often have I heard them bells say, "Toby Veck, Toby Veck,
keep a good heart, Toby! Toby Veck, Toby Veck, keep a good heart, Toby!" A million
times? More!'
'Well, I never!' cried Meg.
She had, though--over and over again. For it was Toby's constant topic.
'When things is very bad,' said Trotty; 'very bad indeed, I mean; almost at the worst; then
it's "Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job coming soon, Toby! Toby Veck, Toby Veck, job
coming soon, Toby!" That way.'
'And it comes--at last, father,' said Meg, with a touch of sadness in her pleasant voice.

'Always,' answered the unconscious Toby. 'Never fails.'
While this discourse was holding, Trotty made no pause in his attack upon the savoury
meat before him, but cut and ate, and cut and drank, and cut and chewed, and dodged
about, from tripe to hot potato, and from hot potato back again to tripe, with an unctuous
and unflagging relish. But happening now to look all round the street--in case anybody
should be beckoning from any door or window, for a porter--his eyes, in coming back
again, encountered Meg: sitting opposite to him, with her arms folded and only busy in
watching his progress with a smile of happiness.
'Why, Lord forgive me!' said Trotty, dropping his knife and fork. 'My dove! Meg! why
didn't you tell me what a beast I was?'
'Father?'
'Sitting here,' said Trotty, in penitent explanation, 'cramming, and stuffing, and gorging
myself; and you before me there, never so much as breaking your precious fast, nor
wanting to, when--'
'But I have broken it, father,' interposed his daughter, laughing, 'all to bits. I have had my
dinner.'
'Nonsense,' said Trotty. 'Two dinners in one day! It an't possible! You might as well tell
me that two New Year's Days will come together, or that I have had a gold head all my
life, and never changed it.'
'I have had my dinner, father, for all that,' said Meg, coming
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