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'Have you had a bad night, ma'am? asked Nell. 'I seldom have anything else, child, replied Mrs Jarley, with the air of a martyr. 'I sometimes wonder how I bear it. Remembering the snores which had proceeded from that cleft in the caravan in which the proprietress of the wax-work passed the night, Nell rather thought she must have been dreaming of lying awake.
Nell walked down it, and read aloud, in enormous black letters, the inscription, "JARLEY'S WAX-WORK." "Read it again," said the lady complacently. "Jarley's Wax-Work," repeated Nell. "That's me," said the lady. "I am Mrs. Jarley."
Each "figure" is first duly described by the exhibitor, and then "wound up" and made to go through certain characteristic movements. The collection is supposed to be that of the far-famed Mrs. Jarley, of "Old Curiosity Shop" celebrity. She may be assisted, if thought desirable, by "Little Nell" and a couple of manservants, John and Peter. The costume of Mrs.
'That'll inform you. And so saying Mrs Jarley produced another announcement, wherein it was stated, that, in consequence of numerous inquiries at the wax-work door, and in consequence of crowds having been disappointed in obtaining admission, the Exhibition would be continued for one week longer, and would re-open next day.
Not one of those peaceful comings-to that betoken the tranquil mind after a good rest, but a return to consciousness with every warlike tendency in his being aroused to the highest pitch. Jack had passed the ball with considerable momentum on to the mantel-piece, which sent it backward on the rebound to no less a feature than the nose of the slumbering Jarley.
"Oh, well, say you are thankful, anyhow," suggested Mrs. Jarley. "You will convince others that you are, and maybe, if you say it often enough, you will convince yourself of the fact." "Thanks," said Jarley. "It's possibly a good suggestion, but I don't believe in pretending to be what I'm not.
When Nell knew all about Mr Packlemerton, and could say it without faltering, Mrs Jarley passed on to the fat man, and then to the thin man, the tall man, the short man, the old lady who died of dancing at a hundred and thirty-two, the wild boy of the woods, the woman who poisoned fourteen families with pickled walnuts, and other historical characters and interesting but misguided individuals.
Jarley conducted a wax-works performance, and there was a moving-picture show in which Mrs. Cornelia Gracchus, the favorite example of the "Antis," was shown lecturing in the Forum on medicine to grave and reverend seigneurs, Joan of Arc leading her troops, and Florence Nightingale bending over the sick and wounded.
She tried to tell Jack to be quiet; but she was not quite wide awake enough to do so as forcibly as was necessary, and the result was that instead of abating his ardor, Jack plunged into his sport more vigorously than ever. And then Jarley was awakened and what an awakening it was!
If you will get me a yard of cotton cloth, and let me put it in the furnace fire, you'll get a fair idea of the kind of atmosphere we'd be breathing if I allowed a cigar like that to be lit within fifty feet of the front door." "But you can get a good cigar for ten cents, can't you?" Mrs. Jarley asked.
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