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Updated: July 6, 2025
'Good morning, Ma'am, said the Major, meeting Miss Tox in Princess's Place, some weeks after the changes chronicled in the last chapter. 'Good morning, Sir, said Miss Tox; very coldly. 'Joe Bagstock, Ma'am, observed the Major, with his usual gallantry, 'has not had the happiness of bowing to you at your window, for a considerable period. Joe has been hardly used, Ma'am.
'You were complimentary to the mother, returned Mr Dombey. 'An ancient flame, Sir, chuckled Major Bagstock. 'Devilish ancient. I humour her. 'She impresses me as being perfectly genteel, said Mr Dombey. 'Genteel, Sir, said the Major, stopping short, and staring in his companion's face. 'The Honourable Mrs Skewton, Sir, is sister to the late Lord Feenix, and aunt to the present Lord.
This he had several times hinted at the club: in connexion with little jocularities, of which old Joe Bagstock, old Joey Bagstock, old J. Bagstock, old Josh Bagstock, or so forth, was the perpetual theme: it being, as it were, the Major's stronghold and donjon-keep of light humour, to be on the most familiar terms with his own name.
He is too selfish to tell the truth and too impatient even to hear it. He cannot endure the truth, because it is subtle. This man is almost always like Bagstock a sycophant and a toad-eater. A man is not any the less a toad-eater because he eats his toads with a huge appetite and gobbles them up, as Bagstock did his breakfast, with the eyes starting out of his purple face. He flatters brutally.
As it is, there is something strangely stiff and incredible about the idea of a lady so dark and dignified dressing up as a swaggering old gentleman in a blue coat and grey trousers. We might almost as easily imagine Edith Dombey dressing up as Major Bagstock. We might almost as easily imagine Rebecca in Ivanhoe dressing up as Isaac of York.
By all the rules of the game I ought to have died. But I suppose, like a brother officer long since defunct, also a Major, one Joe Bagstock, I am devilish tough. Cliffe told me this morning that, apart from a direct hit by a 42-centimetre shell, he saw no reason, after what I had gone through, why I should not live for another hundred years. "I wash my hands of you," said he.
'Sterious wretch, who's he? lisped Cleopatra. But a tap on the bonnet from Flowers seeming to jog her memory, she added, 'Oh! You mean yourself, you naughty creature! 'Devilish queer, Sir, whispered the Major to Mr Dombey. 'Bad case. Never did wrap up enough; the Major being buttoned to the chin. 'Why who should J. B. mean by Joe, but old Joe Bagstock Joseph your slave Joe, Ma'am? Here!
Mr Carker snapped at the expression. In his moral nature. Exactly. The very words he had been on the point of suggesting. 'But when my friend Dombey, Sir, added the Major, 'talks to you of Major Bagstock, I must crave leave to set him and you right. He means plain Joe, Sir Joey B. Josh. Bagstock Joseph rough and tough Old J., Sir. At your service.
When dinner was announced, Mr Dombey took down an old lady like a crimson velvet pincushion stuffed with bank notes, who might have been the identical old lady of Threadneedle Street, she was so rich, and looked so unaccommodating; Cousin Feenix took down Mrs Dombey; Major Bagstock took down Mrs Skewton; the young thing with the shoulders was bestowed, as an extinguisher, upon the East India Director; and the remaining ladies were left on view in the drawing-room by the remaining gentlemen, until a forlorn hope volunteered to conduct them downstairs, and those brave spirits with their captives blocked up the dining-room door, shutting out seven mild men in the stony-hearted hall.
'Damme, Sir, a friend of my friend Dombey's is a friend of mine, and I'm glad to see you! 'I am infinitely obliged, Carker, explained Mr Dombey, 'to Major Bagstock, for his company and conversation. 'Major Bagstock has rendered me great service, Carker.
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