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Updated: April 30, 2025
Then he roused himself to say: "Well, young shaver, what the office for you? that's the point! Look you now are you going home?" "Quite as like as not. That don't commit me to nothing, neither way. Spit it out, guv'nor!" Mr. Wix was filling a pipe, and did it to his satisfaction before he answered: "You've to carry a message. A message to Aunt M'riar. Got that? You know Aunt M'riar."
"Perhaps," said the old lady diffidently, "I can guess what it means, because I know Dave. Suppose Aunt M'riar came the day we came away, and found us gone! If she came up to say goodbye?..." "No, that won't do! Because we came on Wednesday. This was written on Thursday.
It was with no misgiving of hearing of anything seriously amiss that he said to her, as he sat in the little parlour recovering his breath, after walking rather fast, while she cultured the flame of a candle whose wick had been cut off short: "Everything all right, M'riar?" He was under the impression that he asked in a nonchalant, easy-going manner, and he was quite mistaken.
Prime was the House-Surgeon. "I don't take much account of him," said Uncle Mo. "A well-meanin' man, but too easy by half. One o' your good-natured beggars. Says a thing to stuff you up like! For all I could see, my boy was as white as that bit of trimmin' in your hand, M'riar." "But won't you tell us what the doctor said, Mo?" said Mr. Alibone. "I haven't above half heard the evening's noose."
"Wrong you are, for once, Jerry! 'Twarn't no more Mackerel than it was Camberwell." Said Mr. Jerry: "Take an even tizzy on it, Mo?" He twisted the paper about to recover the paragraph, and found it. "Here we are! 'Ralph Daverill, alias Thornton, alias Wix, alias! ..." "Never mind his ale-houses, Jerry. That's the name I'm consarned with Daverill.... What's the matter with M'riar?"
"Too much ill-will about him. Some of the Fancy may have run into bad feeling in my time, but mostly when they shook hands inside the ropes they meant it. How's yourself, M'riar?" Here Aunt M'riar came in after washing up, having apparently overheard none of the conversation. "I'm nicely, Mo, thankee! Have you done with the paper, Mr. Alibone?... Thanks I'll give it to 'em upstairs.... Oh yes!
They were good children to do with, said their Aunt M'riar, so long as you kep' an eye. And a good job they were, because who was to do her work if she was every minute prancing round after a couple of young monkeys? This was a strained way of indicating the case; but there can be no doubt of its substantial truth.
The head of the Sweep's understudy, Dave, was not equal to a full-dress rehearsal. So Dolly had to be content with the promise of a closer reading of the part when her brother was growed up. But it was rather like Aunt M'riar said, for Uncle Moses. Those two young Turks didn't allow their uncle no latitude, in the manner of speaking. He couldn't turn round in bed.
Uncle Moses allowed the position of bailee, but disposed of the penny as Solomon suggested in the case of the baby, giving one halfpenny to Michael, and putting the other in Dave's cat on the mantelshelf. He justified this course afterwards on the ground that the doctor's refund was made to the actual negotiator, and that Aunt M'riar had in any case received full value for her money.
Not yet a while, at least. Daverill's a bad man, and lies. But not when there's no advantage in it. He'd not go about to send me word she was dead, except he knew." "How should he know, more than we?" "Don't you ask me about when I see him, not yet where, nor yet how, and I'll tell you, Mo." She waited, as for a safe-conduct. "Poor old M'riar!" said Mo pitifully. "I'll not witness-box you.
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