Wuthering Heights | Page 4

distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a
clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of
roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of
copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed,
reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter
dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after
row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been
under-drawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except
where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef,
mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the chimney were sundry
villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols: and, by way of
ornament, three gaudily-painted canisters disposed along its ledge. The
floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed, primitive
structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking in the
shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge, liver-coloured bitch

pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs
haunted other recesses.
The apartment and furniture would have been nothing extraordinary as
belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn countenance,
and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee- breeches and gaiters.
Such an individual seated in his arm-chair, his mug of ale frothing on
the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of five or six
miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after dinner. But Mr.
Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He
is a dark- skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman:
that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly,
perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an
erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people
might suspect him of a degree of under-bred pride; I have a
sympathetic chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know,
by instinct, his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of
feeling - to manifestations of mutual kindliness. He'll love and hate
equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved
or hated again. No, I'm running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes
over-liberally on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar
reasons for keeping his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be
acquaintance, to those which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution
is almost peculiar: my dear mother used to say I should never have a
comfortable home; and only last summer I proved myself perfectly
unworthy of one.
While enjoying a month of fine weather at the sea-coast, I was thrown
into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess in my
eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I 'never told my love' vocally;
still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed I was
over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return - the
sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it with
shame - shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired
colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her
own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake,
persuaded her mamma to decamp. By this curious turn of disposition I

have gained the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved,
I alone can appreciate.
I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite that towards which
my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence by
attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery, and
was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled up, and
her white teeth watering for a snatch. My caress provoked a long,
guttural gnarl.
'You'd better let the dog alone,' growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison,
checking fiercer demonstrations with a punch of his foot. 'She's not
accustomed to be spoiled - not kept for a pet.' Then, striding to a side
door, he shouted again, 'Joseph!'
Joseph mumbled indistinctly in the depths of the cellar, but gave no
intimation of ascending; so his master dived down to him, leaving me
VIS-A-VIS the ruffianly bitch and a pair of grim shaggy sheep-dogs,
who shared with her a jealous guardianship over all my movements.
Not anxious to come in contact with their fangs, I sat still; but,
imagining they would scarcely understand tacit insults, I unfortunately
indulged in winking and making faces at the trio, and some turn of my
physiognomy so irritated madam, that she suddenly broke into a fury
and