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Updated: June 1, 2025
Give the note to old Pits and here, I think, he is." Mr Pitskiver or old Pits, as he was irreverently called by his domestic came rapidly up the street. He was a little man, between fifty and sixty years of age, with an exceedingly stout body and very thin legs. He was very red in the face, and very short in the neck.
And about six o'clock there was a highly interesting and superior party of eight, to whom Miss Hendy administered cod's-head and shoulders, aphorisms and oyster sauce, in almost equal proportion; while Mr Pitskiver, like a "sweet seducer, blandly smiling," made polite enquiries whether he should not relieve her of the trouble.
Mr Whalley, however, was struck with the mournful silence that followed his observation. "That was a thing as happing'd on a pole," he said. "In cooss it would be wery different on a tree because of the branches, as I think you was a-saying, Miss Hendy?" Mr Pitskiver grew desperate. "Bristles," he cried, "any thing new in sculpture?
"Go on, my good sir; you will gain courage as you proceed." All was then silent. Mr Pitskiver at Miss Hendy's side, near the door; Mr Whalley straining his long neck to catch the faintest echo of their conversation; the others casting from time to time enquiring glances towards the illustrious pair; but all endeavouring to appear intensely interested in the drama. Mr Sidsby began:
A knock the well-known rat, tat, tat, of the owner of the mansion now completed their perplexity; and, in a moment more, they heard the steps of several persons rushing up stairs. "Mr Pitskiver!" exclaimed Bristles in intense agitation, "you have surely forgotten our agreement Snooksby! Butters! Banks! Why, I am quite overpowered with the surprise!
"Certainly, my dear sir but Mr Pitskiver and Stickleback, they are friends, you know, Mr Whalley, and perhaps Mr P.'s interest may be useful in getting the great artist an order to ornament some of the new buildings. I have some thoughts of recommending him to offer the very statue we talk of for the front of the Mansion-house. A hint on the subject has already appeared in the Universal."
There were seven female hearts in that assemblage bursting with spite, and one with triumph. Mr Pitskiver had never been known to whisper it any body's ear before. In the mean time Mr Bristles, as literary master of the ceremonies, had made a call on Mr Sidsby to proceed with his reading of the first act of his play.
He ain't a bad round of beef; and I almost like our two mutton-chops, since they have freed the house from such shocking sour-crouts and watery taties as I have just flinged into the street." But it was impossible to convert the great Mr Bristles to the belief into which his quondam follower, Mr Pitskiver, had fallen as to the qualities of Miss Hendy.
And it was thought that, if he succeeded in marrying off his girls, he should himself become once more a candidate for the holy estate; and by this wise manoeuvre for, in fact, he made no secret of his intention he enlisted in his daughters' behalf all the elderly ladies who thought they had any claims on the attentions of that charming creature Mr Pitskiver.
Mr Pitskiver was inspired by the subject of his contemplations, and proposed her health in a strain of eloquence which produced a wonderful amount of head-shaking from Mr Whalley, and frequent exclamations of "Demosthenes," "Cicero," "Burke all over!" from the more enraptured Mr Bristles.
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