The Old Curiosity Shop | Page 6

was surprised to see that all
this time everything was done by the child, and that there appeared to
be no other persons but ourselves in the house. I took advantage of a
moment when she was absent to venture a hint on this point, to which
the old man replied that there were few grown persons as trustworthy
or as careful as she.

'It always grieves me, ' I observed, roused by what I took to be his
selfishness, 'it always grieves me to contemplate the initiation of
children into the ways of life, when they are scarcely more than infants.
It checks their confidence and simplicity--two of the best qualities that
Heaven gives them--and demands that they share our sorrows before
they are capable of entering into our enjoyments.'
'It will never check hers,' said the old man looking steadily at me, 'the
springs are too deep. Besides, the children of the poor know but few
pleasures. Even the cheap delights of childhood must be bought and
paid for.
'But--forgive me for saying this--you are surely not so very poor'--said
I.
'She is not my child, sir,' returned the old man. 'Her mother was, and
she was poor. I save nothing--not a penny--though I live as you see,
but'--he laid his hand upon my arm and leant forward to whisper--'she
shall be rich one of these days, and a fine lady. Don't you think ill of
me because I use her help. She gives it cheerfully as you see, and it
would break her heart if she knew that I suffered anybody else to do for
me what her little hands could undertake. I don't consider!'--he cried
with sudden querulousness, 'why, God knows that this one child is
there thought and object of my life, and yet he never prospers me--no,
never!'
At this juncture, the subject of our conversation again returned, and the
old men motioning to me to approach the table, broke off, and said no
more.
We had scarcely begun our repast when there was a knock at the door
by which I had entered, and Nell bursting into a hearty laugh, which I
was rejoiced to hear, for it was childlike and full of hilarity, said it was
no doubt dear old Kit coming back at last.
'Foolish Nell!' said the old man fondling with her hair. 'She always
laughs at poor Kit.'

The child laughed again more heartily than before, I could not help
smiling from pure sympathy. The little old man took up a candle and
went to open the door. When he came back, Kit was at his heels.
Kit was a shock-headed, shambling, awkward lad with an uncommonly
wide mouth, very red cheeks, a turned-up nose, and certainly the most
comical expression of face I ever saw. He stopped short at the door on
seeing a stranger, twirled in his hand a perfectly round old hat without
any vestige of a brim, and resting himself now on one leg and now on
the other and changing them constantly, stood in the doorway, looking
into the parlour with the most extraordinary leer I ever beheld. I
entertained a grateful feeling towards the boy from that minute, for I
felt that he was the comedy of the child's life.
'A long way, wasn't it, Kit?' said the little old man.
'Why, then, it was a goodish stretch, master,' returned Kit.
'Of course you have come back hungry?'
'Why, then, I do consider myself rather so, master,' was the answer.
The lad had a remarkable manner of standing sideways as he spoke,
and thrusting his head forward over his shoulder, as if he could not get
at his voice without that accompanying action. I think he would have
amused one anywhere, but the child's exquisite enjoyment of his oddity,
and the relief it was to find that there was something she associated
with merriment in a place that appeared so unsuited to her, were quite
irresistible. It was a great point too that Kit himself was flattered by the
sensation he created, and after several efforts to preserve his gravity,
burst into a loud roar, and so stood with his mouth wide open and his
eyes nearly shut, laughing violently.
The old man had again relapsed into his former abstraction and took no
notice of what passed, but I remarked that when her laugh was over, the
child's bright eyes were dimmed with tears, called forth by the fullness
of heart with which she welcomed her uncouth favourite after the little
anxiety of the night. As for Kit himself (whose laugh had been all the

time one of that sort which very little would change into a cry) he
carried a large slice of bread and meat and a mug of beer into a corner,
and