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Chickenstalker "in a step unknown before or since, founded on his own peculiar trot," the story closed in the book, and closed also in the Reading, with words that, in their gentle and harmonious flow, seemed to come from the neighbouring church-tower as final echoes from "The Chimes" themselves.
Chickenstalker: always inclined to corpulency, even in the days when he had known her as established in the general line, and having a small balance against him in her books. The features of her companion were less easy to him.
Some names were there, but they were strange to him, and infinitely fewer than of old; from which he argued that the porter was an advocate of ready-money transactions, and on coming into the business had looked pretty sharp after the Chickenstalker defaulters.
Tugby, that is, Chickenstalker, after thumping him violently on the back, and shaking him as if he were a bottle, was constrained to cry out, in great terror, "Good gracious, goodness, lord-a-mercy, bless and save the man! What's he a-doing?" To which all that Mr. Tugby can faintly reply, as he wipes his eyes, is, that he finds himself a little "elewated!"
Chickenstalker years ago, by giving him admission to the mansion where he had confessed his obligations to that lady, and drawn on his unlucky head such grave reproach.
Tugby! said Trotty, who had been going round and round her, in an ecstasy. 'I SHOULD say, Chickenstalker Bless your heart and soul! A Happy New Year, and many of 'em! Mrs. Tugby, said Trotty when he had saluted her; 'I SHOULD say, Chickenstalker This is William Fern and Lilian. The worthy dame, to his surprise, turned very pale and very red.
'What a happiness it is, I'm sure, said Trotty, 'to be so esteemed! How kind and neighbourly you are! It's all along of my dear daughter. She deserves it! Trotty said, 'It's Mrs. Chickenstalker! And sat down and beat his knees again. 'Married, and not tell me, Meg! cried the good woman. 'Never! I couldn't rest on the last night of the Old Year without coming to wish you joy.
'I am afraid, sir, stammered Trotty, looking meekly at him, 'that I am a a little behind-hand with the world. Behind-hand with the world! repeated Sir Joseph Bowley, in a tone of terrible distinctness. 'I am afraid, sir, faltered Trotty, 'that there's a matter of ten or twelve shillings owing to Mrs. Chickenstalker. 'To Mrs. Chickenstalker! repeated Sir Joseph, in the same tone as before.
To the music of the band, and, the bells, the marrow-bones and cleavers, all at once; and while the Chimes were yet in lusty operation out of doors; Trotty, making Meg and Richard, second couple, led off Mrs. Chickenstalker down the dance, and danced it in a step unknown before or since; founded on his own peculiar trot. Had Trotty dreamed?
When the stout old lady, his supposititious wife, formerly, or rather really, all through, Mrs. Chickenstalker, says, in answer to his inquiries as to the weather, one especially bitter winter's evening, "Blowing and sleeting hard, and threatening snow. Dark, and very cold" Tugby's almost apoplectic reply was delicious, no doubt, in its suffocative delivery.
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