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Updated: June 9, 2025
Kitterbell, with her handkerchief to her eyes, and accompanied by several ladies, rushed from the room, and went into violent hysterics in the passage, leaving her better half in almost as bad a condition, and a general impression in Dumps’s favour; for people like sentiment, after all. It need hardly be added, that this occurrence quite put a stop to the harmony of the evening.
‘Uncle,’ said little Kitterbell, after Dumps had been introduced to a select dozen or two, ‘you must let me lead you to the other end of the room, to introduce you to my friend Danton. Such a splendid fellow!—I’m sure you’ll like him—this way,’—Dumps followed as tractably as a tame bear. Mr.
Danton was universally admitted to be beyond himself; several young ladies enchanted the company and gained admirers by singing ‘We met’—‘I saw her at the Fancy Fair’—and other equally sentimental and interesting ballads. ‘The young men,’ as Mrs. Kitterbell said, ‘made themselves very agreeable;’ the girls did not lose their opportunity; and the evening promised to go off excellently.
‘I beg your pardon, uncle,’ said Kitterbell, quite abashed, suddenly releasing his hold of the desk, and bringing the three wandering legs back to the floor, with a force sufficient to drive them through it. ‘But come, don’t refuse. If it’s a boy, you know, we must have two godfathers.’ ‘If it’s a boy!’ said Dumps; ‘why can’t you say at once whether it is a boy or not?’
‘How frightful!’ interrupted the horror-stricken Kitterbell. ‘The child died, of course. However, your child may not die; and if it should be a boy, and should live to be christened, why I suppose I must be one of the sponsors.’ Dumps was evidently good-natured on the faith of his anticipations.
Dumps had a nephew who had been married about a year, and who was somewhat of a favourite with his uncle, because he was an admirable subject to exercise his misery-creating powers upon. Mr. Charles Kitterbell was a small, sharp, spare man, with a very large head, and a broad, good-humoured countenance.
‘I knew you’d say so, my love,’ said little Kitterbell, who, while he appeared to be gazing on the opposite houses, was looking at his wife with a most affectionate air: ‘Bless you!’ The last two words were accompanied with a simper, and a squeeze of the hand, which stirred up all Uncle Dumps’s bile. ‘Jane, tell nurse to bring down baby,’ said Mrs. Kitterbell, addressing the servant. Mrs.
Kitterbell by expatiating largely on the danger of measles, thrush, teeth-cutting, and other interesting diseases to which children are subject. The clergyman had to dine some distance from town, and had two churchings, three christenings, and a funeral to perform in something less than an hour.
A dead silence ensued, and the glasses were filled—everybody looked serious. ‘Order! order!’ said little Kitterbell, endeavouring to suppress his laughter. ‘Order!’ said the gentlemen. ‘Danton, be quiet,’ said a particular friend on the opposite side of the table.
And little Kitterbell kept calling out for clean plates, and the clean plates did not come: and then the gentlemen who wanted the plates said they didn’t mind, they’d take a lady’s; and then Mrs.
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