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Orders came pouring in, Mrs Grumbit's knitting wires clicked, and her little old hands wagged with incomprehensible rapidity and unflagging regularity, and Martin Rattler was sent to school.
Martin Rattler was a very bad boy. At least his aunt, Mrs Dorothy Grumbit, said so; and certainly she ought to have known, if anybody should, for Martin lived with her, and was, as she herself expressed it, "the bane of her existence; the very torment of her life." No doubt of it whatever, according to Aunt Dorothy Grumbit's showing, Martin Rattler was "a remarkably bad boy."
His step was quiet, though quick; and his voice was gentle, though rapid; and he was chiefly famous for talking little and doing much. Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr. Jollyboy had received information of Mrs. Grumbit's stocking movement.
His step was quiet, though quick; and his voice was gentle, though rapid; and he was chiefly famous for talking little and doing much. Some time after the opening of our tale, Mr Jollyboy had received information of Mrs Grumbit's stocking movement.
Then he whispered a few words in Mrs Grumbit's ear, which seemed to give that excellent lady much pleasure; after which he endeavoured to straighten his crushed hat; in which attempt he failed, took his leave, promised to call again very soon, and went back to the Old Hulk chuckling.
Martin Rattler was a very bad boy. At least his aunt, Mrs. Dorothy Grumbit, said so; and certainly she ought to have known, if anybody should, for Martin lived with her, and was, as she herself expressed it, "the bane of her existence, the very torment of her life." No doubt of it whatever, according to Aunt Dorothy Grumbit's showing, Martin Rattler was "a remarkably bad boy."
Grumbit's face would turn blue; and, uncoiling an enormous tail, she would bound shrieking after him in among the trees and disappear! Martin usually wakened at this point, and found the marmoset gazing in his face with an expression of sorrowful solemnity, and the old sun-dried trader staring vacantly before him as he steered his light craft down the broad stream of the Tocantins.
Jollyboy shook hands with him, and said he was a trump, at the same time recommending him to go and wash his face. Then he whispered a few words in Mrs. Grumbit's ear, which seemed to give that excellent lady much pleasure; after which he endeavoured to straighten his crushed hat; in which attempt he failed, took his leave, promised to call again very soon, and went back to the Old Hulk chuckling.
Then he would run home in eager haste, and find old Mrs Grumbit hard at the one thousand nine hundred and ninety-ninth pair of worsted socks; and fat Mr Arthur Jollyboy sitting opposite to her, dressed in the old lady's bed-curtain chintz and high-crowned cap, with the white kitten in his arms and his spectacles on his chin, watching the process with intense interest and cautioning her not to forget the "hitch" by any means; whereupon the kitten would fly up in his face, and Mr Jollyboy would dash through the window with a loud howl, and Mrs Grumbit's face would turn blue; and, uncoiling an enormous tail, she would bound shrieking after him in among the trees and disappear!
Grumbit's knitting wires clicked, and her little old hands wagged with incomprehensible rapidity and unflagging regularity, and Martin Rattler was sent to school.
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