The Yellowplush Papers | Page 6

pair of wings
and a goold trumpet, could she have been a greater hangel.
I never shall forgit one seen that took place. It was when Master was in
the city; and so, having nothink earthly to do, I happened to be listening
on the stairs. The old scolding was a-going on, and the old tune of that
hojus "Battle of Prag." Old Shum made some remark; and Miss
Buckmaster cried out, "Law, pa! what a fool you are!" All the gals
began laffin, and so did Mrs. Shum; all, that is, excep Mary, who
turned as red as flams, and going up to Miss Betsy Buckmaster, give
her two such wax on her great red ears as made them tingle again.
Old Mrs. Shum screamed, and ran at her like a Bengal tiger. Her great
arms vent veeling about like a vinmill, as she cuffed and thumped poor
Mary for taking her pa's part. Mary Shum, who was always a-crying
before, didn't shed a tear now. "I will do it again," she said, "if Betsy
insults my father." New thumps, new shreex; and the old horridan went
on beatin the poor girl till she was quite exosted, and fell down on the
sophy, puffin like a poppus.
"For shame, Mary," began old Shum; "for shame, you naughty gal, you!
for hurting the feelings of your dear mamma, and beating your kind
sister."
"Why, it was because she called you a--"
"If she did, you pert miss," said Shum, looking mighty dignitified, "I
could correct her, and not you."
"You correct me, indeed!" said Miss Betsy, turning up her nose, if
possible, higher than before; "I should like to see you erect me!
Imperence!" and they all began laffin again.

By this time Mrs. S. had recovered from the effex of her exsize, and she
began to pour in HER wolly. Fust she called Mary names, then Shum.
"Oh, why," screeched she, "why did I ever leave a genteel famly, where
I ad every ellygance and lucksry, to marry a creatur like this? He is
unfit to be called a man, he is unworthy to marry a gentlewoman; and
as for that hussy, I disown her. Thank heaven she an't a Slamcoe; she is
only fit to be a Shum!"
"That's true, mamma," said all the gals; for their mother had taught
them this pretty piece of manners, and they despised their father
heartily: indeed, I have always remarked that, in famlies where the wife
is internally talking about the merits of her branch, the husband is
invariably a spooney.
Well, when she was exosted again, down she fell on the sofy, at her old
trix--more screeching--more convulshuns: and she wouldn't stop, this
time, till Shum had got her half a pint of her old remedy, from the
"Blue Lion" over the way. She grew more easy as she finished the gin;
but Mary was sent out of the room, and told not to come back agin all
day.
"Miss Mary," says I,--for my heart yurned to the poor gal, as she came
sobbing and miserable down stairs: "Miss Mary," says I, "if I might
make so bold, here's master's room empty, and I know where the cold
bif and pickles is." "Oh, Charles!" said she, nodding her head sadly,
"I'm too retched to have any happytite." And she flung herself on a
chair, and began to cry fit to bust.
At this moment who should come in but my master. I had taken hold of
Miss Mary's hand, somehow, and do believe I should have kist it, when,
as I said, Haltamont made his appearance. "What's this?" cries he,
lookin at me as black as thunder, or as Mr. Phillips as Hickit, in the
new tragedy of MacBuff.
"It's only Miss Mary, sir," answered I.
"Get out, sir," says he, as fierce as posbil; and I felt somethink (I think
it was the tip of his to) touching me behind, and found myself, nex
minit, sprawling among the wet flannings and buckets and things.
The people from up stairs came to see what was the matter, as I was
cussin and crying out. "It's only Charles, ma," screamed out Miss
Betsy.
"Where's Mary?" says Mrs. Shum, from the sofy.

"She's in Master's room, miss," said I.
"She's in the lodger's room, ma," cries Miss Shum, heckoing me.
"Very good; tell her to stay there till he comes back." And then Miss
Shum went bouncing up the stairs again, little knowing of Haltamont's
return.
. . . . . .
I'd long before observed that my master had an anchoring after Mary
Shum; indeed, as I have said, it was purely for her sake that he took and
kep his lodgings at Pentonwille. Excep for the sake of love, which is
above