<h2> CHAPTER XVII. SHOWING THAT AN ATTACK OF RHEUMATISM, IN SOME CASES, ACTS AS A QUICKENER TO INVENTIVE GENIUS </h2>
<p class="pfirst">
<span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he constitution of
Mr. Pickwick, though able to sustain a very considerable amount of
exertion and fatigue, was not proof against such a combination of attacks
as he had undergone on the memorable night, recorded in the last chapter.
The process of being washed in the night air, and rough-dried in a closet,
is as dangerous as it is peculiar. Mr. Pickwick was laid up with an attack
of rheumatism.</p>
<p>But although the bodily powers of the great man were thus impaired, his
mental energies retained their pristine vigour. His spirits were elastic;
his good-humour was restored. Even the vexation consequent upon his recent
adventure had vanished from his mind; and he could join in the hearty
laughter, which any allusion to it excited in Mr. Wardle, without anger
and without embarrassment. Nay, more. During the two days Mr. Pickwick was
confined to bed, Sam was his constant attendant. On the first, he
endeavoured to amuse his master by anecdote and conversation; on the
second, Mr. Pickwick demanded his writing-desk, and pen and ink, and was
deeply engaged during the whole day. On the third, being able to sit up in
his bedchamber, he despatched his valet with a message to Mr. Wardle and
Mr. Trundle, intimating that if they would take their wine there, that
evening, they would greatly oblige him. The invitation was most willingly
accepted; and when they were seated over their wine, Mr. Pickwick, with
sundry blushes, produced the following little tale, as having been
‘edited’ by himself, during his recent indisposition, from his notes of
Mr. Weller’s unsophisticated recital.</p>
<p>THE PARISH CLERK<br/>
A TALE OF TRUE LOVE<br/></p>
<p>‘Once upon a time, in a very small country town, at a considerable
distance from London, there lived a little man named Nathaniel Pipkin, who
was the parish clerk of the little town, and lived in a little house in
the little High Street, within ten minutes’ walk from the little church;
and who was to be found every day, from nine till four, teaching a little
learning to the little boys. Nathaniel Pipkin was a harmless, inoffensive,
good-natured being, with a turned-up nose, and rather turned-in legs, a
cast in his eye, and a halt in his gait; and he divided his time between
the church and his school, verily believing that there existed not, on the
face of the earth, so clever a man as the curate, so imposing an apartment
as the vestry-room, or so well-ordered a seminary as his own. Once, and
only once, in his life, Nathaniel Pipkin had seen a bishop—a real
bishop, with his arms in lawn sleeves, and his head in a wig. He had seen
him walk, and heard him talk, at a confirmation, on which momentous
occasion Nathaniel Pipkin was so overcome with reverence and awe, when the
aforesaid bishop laid his hand on his head, that he fainted right clean
away, and was borne out of church in the arms of the beadle.</p>
<p>‘This was a great event, a tremendous era, in Nathaniel Pipkin’s life, and
it was the only one that had ever occurred to ruffle the smooth current of
his quiet existence, when happening one fine afternoon, in a fit of mental
abstraction, to raise his eyes from the slate on which he was devising
some tremendous problem in compound addition for an offending urchin to
solve, they suddenly rested on the blooming countenance of Maria Lobbs,
the only daughter of old Lobbs, the great saddler over the way. Now, the
eyes of Mr. Pipkin had rested on the pretty face of Maria Lobbs many a
time and oft before, at church and elsewhere; but the eyes of Maria Lobbs
had never looked so bright, the cheeks of Maria Lobbs had never looked so
ruddy, as upon this particular occasion. No wonder then, that Nathaniel
Pipkin was unable to take his eyes from the countenance of Miss Lobbs; no
wonder that Miss Lobbs, finding herself stared at by a young man, withdrew
her head from the window out of which she had been peeping, and shut the
casement and pulled down the blind; no wonder that Nathaniel Pipkin,
immediately thereafter, fell upon the young urchin who had previously
offended, and cuffed and knocked him about to his heart’s content. All
this was very natural, and there’s nothing at all to wonder at about it.</p>
<p>‘It <i>is</i> matter of wonder, though, that anyone of Mr. Nathaniel
Pipkin’s retiring disposition, nervous temperament, and most particularly
diminutive income, should from this day forth, have dared to aspire to the
hand and heart of the only daughter of the fiery old Lobbs—of old
Lobbs, the great saddler, who could have bought up the whole village at
one stroke of his pen, and never felt the outlay—old Lobbs, who was
well known to have heaps of money, invested in the bank at the nearest
market town—who was reported to have countless and inexhaustible
treasures hoarded up in the little iron safe with the big keyhole, over
the chimney-piece in the back parlour—and who, it was well known, on
festive occasions garnished his board with a real silver teapot,
cream-ewer, and sugar-basin, which he was wont, in the pride of his heart,
to boast should be his daughter’s property when she found a man to her
mind. I repeat it, to be matter of profound astonishment and intense
wonder, that Nathaniel Pipkin should have had the temerity to cast his
eyes in this direction. But love is blind; and Nathaniel had a cast in his
eye; and perhaps these two circumstances, taken together, prevented his
seeing the matter in its proper light.</p>
<p>‘Now, if old Lobbs had entertained the most remote or distant idea of the
state of the affections of Nathaniel Pipkin, he would just have razed the
school-room to the ground, or exterminated its master from the surface of
the earth, or committed some other outrage and atrocity of an equally
ferocious and violent description; for he was a terrible old fellow, was
Lobbs, when his pride was injured, or his blood was up. Swear! Such trains
of oaths would come rolling and pealing over the way, sometimes, when he
was denouncing the idleness of the bony apprentice with the thin legs,
that Nathaniel Pipkin would shake in his shoes with horror, and the hair
of the pupils’ heads would stand on end with fright.</p>
<p>‘Well! Day after day, when school was over, and the pupils gone, did
Nathaniel Pipkin sit himself down at the front window, and, while he
feigned to be reading a book, throw sidelong glances over the way in
search of the bright eyes of Maria Lobbs; and he hadn’t sat there many
days, before the bright eyes appeared at an upper window, apparently
deeply engaged in reading too. This was delightful, and gladdening to the
heart of Nathaniel Pipkin. It was something to sit there for hours
together, and look upon that pretty face when the eyes were cast down; but
when Maria Lobbs began to raise her eyes from her book, and dart their
rays in the direction of Nathaniel Pipkin, his delight and admiration were
perfectly boundless. At last, one day when he knew old Lobbs was out,
Nathaniel Pipkin had the temerity to kiss his hand to Maria Lobbs; and
Maria Lobbs, instead of shutting the window, and pulling down the blind,
kissed <i>hers </i>to him, and smiled. Upon which Nathaniel Pipkin
determined, that, come what might, he would develop the state of his
feelings, without further delay.</p>
<p>‘A prettier foot, a gayer heart, a more dimpled face, or a smarter form,
never bounded so lightly over the earth they graced, as did those of Maria
Lobbs, the old saddler’s daughter. There was a roguish twinkle in her
sparkling eyes, that would have made its way to far less susceptible
bosoms than that of Nathaniel Pipkin; and there was such a joyous sound in
her merry laugh, that the sternest misanthrope must have smiled to hear
it. Even old Lobbs himself, in the very height of his ferocity, couldn’t
resist the coaxing of his pretty daughter; and when she, and her cousin
Kate—an arch, impudent-looking, bewitching little person—made
a dead set upon the old man together, as, to say the truth, they very
often did, he could have refused them nothing, even had they asked for a
portion of the countless and inexhaustible treasures, which were hidden
from the light, in the iron safe.</p>
<p>‘Nathaniel Pipkin’s heart beat high within him, when he saw this enticing
little couple some hundred yards before him one summer’s evening, in the
very field in which he had many a time strolled about till night-time, and
pondered on the beauty of Maria Lobbs. But though he had often thought
then, how briskly he would walk up to Maria Lobbs and tell her of his
passion if he could only meet her, he felt, now that she was unexpectedly
before him, all the blood in his body mounting to his face, manifestly to
the great detriment of his legs, which, deprived of their usual portion,
trembled beneath him. When they stopped to gather a hedge flower, or
listen to a bird, Nathaniel Pipkin stopped too, and pretended to be
absorbed in meditation, as indeed he really was; for he was thinking what
on earth he should ever do, when they turned back, as they inevitably must
in time, and meet him face to face. But though he was afraid to make up to
them, he couldn’t bear to lose sight of them; so when they walked faster
he walked faster, when they lingered he lingered, and when they stopped he
stopped; and so they might have gone on, until the darkness prevented
them, if Kate had not looked slyly back, and encouragingly beckoned
Nathaniel to advance. There was something in Kate’s manner that was not to
be resisted, and so Nathaniel Pipkin complied with the invitation; and
after a great deal of blushing on his part, and immoderate laughter on
that of the wicked little cousin, Nathaniel Pipkin went down on his knees
on the dewy grass, and declared his resolution to remain there for ever,
unless he were permitted to rise the accepted lover of Maria Lobbs. Upon
this, the merry laughter of Miss Lobbs rang through the calm evening air—without
seeming to disturb it, though; it had such a pleasant sound—and the
wicked little cousin laughed more immoderately than before, and Nathaniel
Pipkin blushed deeper than ever. At length, Maria Lobbs being more
strenuously urged by the love-worn little man, turned away her head, and
whispered her cousin to say, or at all events Kate did say, that she felt
much honoured by Mr. Pipkin’s addresses; that her hand and heart were at
her father’s disposal; but that nobody could be insensible to Mr. Pipkin’s
merits. As all this was said with much gravity, and as Nathaniel Pipkin
walked home with Maria Lobbs, and struggled for a kiss at parting, he went
to bed a happy man, and dreamed all night long, of softening old Lobbs,
opening the strong box, and marrying Maria.</p>
<p>The next day, Nathaniel Pipkin saw old Lobbs go out upon his old gray
pony, and after a great many signs at the window from the wicked little
cousin, the object and meaning of which he could by no means understand,
the bony apprentice with the thin legs came over to say that his master
wasn’t coming home all night, and that the ladies expected Mr. Pipkin to
tea, at six o’clock precisely. How the lessons were got through that day,
neither Nathaniel Pipkin nor his pupils knew any more than you do; but
they were got through somehow, and, after the boys had gone, Nathaniel
Pipkin took till full six o’clock to dress himself to his satisfaction.
Not that it took long to select the garments he should wear, inasmuch as
he had no choice about the matter; but the putting of them on to the best
advantage, and the touching of them up previously, was a task of no
inconsiderable difficulty or importance.</p>
<p>‘There was a very snug little party, consisting of Maria Lobbs and her
cousin Kate, and three or four romping, good-humoured, rosy-cheeked girls.
Nathaniel Pipkin had ocular demonstration of the fact, that the rumours of
old Lobbs’s treasures were not exaggerated. There were the real solid
silver teapot, cream-ewer, and sugar-basin, on the table, and real silver
spoons to stir the tea with, and real china cups to drink it out of, and
plates of the same, to hold the cakes and toast in. The only eye-sore in
the whole place was another cousin of Maria Lobbs’s, and a brother of
Kate, whom Maria Lobbs called “Henry,” and who seemed to keep Maria Lobbs
all to himself, up in one corner of the table. It’s a delightful thing to
see affection in families, but it may be carried rather too far, and
Nathaniel Pipkin could not help thinking that Maria Lobbs must be very
particularly fond of her relations, if she paid as much attention to all
of them as to this individual cousin. After tea, too, when the wicked
little cousin proposed a game at blind man’s buff, it somehow or other
happened that Nathaniel Pipkin was nearly always blind, and whenever he
laid his hand upon the male cousin, he was sure to find that Maria Lobbs
was not far off. And though the wicked little cousin and the other girls
pinched him, and pulled his hair, and pushed chairs in his way, and all
sorts of things, Maria Lobbs never seemed to come near him at all; and
once—once—Nathaniel Pipkin could have sworn he heard the sound
of a kiss, followed by a faint remonstrance from Maria Lobbs, and a
half-suppressed laugh from her female friends. All this was odd—very
odd—and there is no saying what Nathaniel Pipkin might or might not
have done, in consequence, if his thoughts had not been suddenly directed
into a new channel.</p>
<p>‘The circumstance which directed his thoughts into a new channel was a
loud knocking at the street door, and the person who made this loud
knocking at the street door was no other than old Lobbs himself, who had
unexpectedly returned, and was hammering away, like a coffin-maker; for he
wanted his supper. The alarming intelligence was no sooner communicated by
the bony apprentice with the thin legs, than the girls tripped upstairs to
Maria Lobbs’s bedroom, and the male cousin and Nathaniel Pipkin were
thrust into a couple of closets in the sitting-room, for want of any
better places of concealment; and when Maria Lobbs and the wicked little
cousin had stowed them away, and put the room to rights, they opened the
street door to old Lobbs, who had never left off knocking since he first
began.</p>
<p>‘Now it did unfortunately happen that old Lobbs being very hungry was
monstrous cross. Nathaniel Pipkin could hear him growling away like an old
mastiff with a sore throat; and whenever the unfortunate apprentice with
the thin legs came into the room, so surely did old Lobbs commence
swearing at him in a most Saracenic and ferocious manner, though
apparently with no other end or object than that of easing his bosom by
the discharge of a few superfluous oaths. At length some supper, which had
been warming up, was placed on the table, and then old Lobbs fell to, in
regular style; and having made clear work of it in no time, kissed his
daughter, and demanded his pipe.</p>
<p>‘Nature had placed Nathaniel Pipkin’s knees in very close juxtaposition,
but when he heard old Lobbs demand his pipe, they knocked together, as if
they were going to reduce each other to powder; for, depending from a
couple of hooks, in the very closet in which he stood, was a large,
brown-stemmed, silver-bowled pipe, which pipe he himself had seen in the
mouth of old Lobbs, regularly every afternoon and evening, for the last
five years. The two girls went downstairs for the pipe, and upstairs for
the pipe, and everywhere but where they knew the pipe was, and old Lobbs
stormed away meanwhile, in the most wonderful manner. At last he thought
of the closet, and walked up to it. It was of no use a little man like
Nathaniel Pipkin pulling the door inwards, when a great strong fellow like
old Lobbs was pulling it outwards. Old Lobbs gave it one tug, and open it
flew, disclosing Nathaniel Pipkin standing bolt upright inside, and
shaking with apprehension from head to foot. Bless us! what an appalling
look old Lobbs gave him, as he dragged him out by the collar, and held him
at arm’s length.</p>
<p>‘“Why, what the devil do you want here?” said old Lobbs, in a fearful
voice.</p>
<p>‘Nathaniel Pipkin could make no reply, so old Lobbs shook him backwards
and forwards, for two or three minutes, by way of arranging his ideas for
him.</p>
<p>‘“What do you want here?” roared Lobbs; “I suppose you have come after my
daughter, now!”</p>
<p>‘Old Lobbs merely said this as a sneer: for he did not believe that mortal
presumption could have carried Nathaniel Pipkin so far. What was his
indignation, when that poor man replied—</p>
<p>‘“Yes, I did, Mr. Lobbs, I did come after your daughter. I love her, Mr.
Lobbs.”</p>
<p>‘“Why, you snivelling, wry-faced, puny villain,” gasped old Lobbs,
paralysed by the atrocious confession; “what do you mean by that? Say this
to my face! Damme, I’ll throttle you!”</p>
<p>‘It is by no means improbable that old Lobbs would have carried his threat
into execution, in the excess of his rage, if his arm had not been stayed
by a very unexpected apparition: to wit, the male cousin, who, stepping
out of his closet, and walking up to old Lobbs, said—</p>
<p>‘“I cannot allow this harmless person, Sir, who has been asked here, in
some girlish frolic, to take upon himself, in a very noble manner, the
fault (if fault it is) which I am guilty of, and am ready to avow. I love
your daughter, sir; and I came here for the purpose of meeting her.”</p>
<p>‘Old Lobbs opened his eyes very wide at this, but not wider than Nathaniel
Pipkin.</p>
<p>‘“You did?” said Lobbs, at last finding breath to speak.</p>
<p>‘“I did.”</p>
<p>‘“And I forbade you this house, long ago.”</p>
<p>‘“You did, or I should not have been here, clandestinely, to-night.”</p>
<p>‘I am sorry to record it of old Lobbs, but I think he would have struck
the cousin, if his pretty daughter, with her bright eyes swimming in
tears, had not clung to his arm.</p>
<p>‘“Don’t stop him, Maria,” said the young man; “if he has the will to
strike me, let him. I would not hurt a hair of his gray head, for the
riches of the world.”</p>
<p>‘The old man cast down his eyes at this reproof, and they met those of his
daughter. I have hinted once or twice before, that they were very bright
eyes, and, though they were tearful now, their influence was by no means
lessened. Old Lobbs turned his head away, as if to avoid being persuaded
by them, when, as fortune would have it, he encountered the face of the
wicked little cousin, who, half afraid for her brother, and half laughing
at Nathaniel Pipkin, presented as bewitching an expression of countenance,
with a touch of slyness in it, too, as any man, old or young, need look
upon. She drew her arm coaxingly through the old man’s, and whispered
something in his ear; and do what he would, old Lobbs couldn’t help
breaking out into a smile, while a tear stole down his cheek at the same
time.</p>
<p>‘Five minutes after this, the girls were brought down from the bedroom
with a great deal of giggling and modesty; and while the young people were
making themselves perfectly happy, old Lobbs got down the pipe, and smoked
it; and it was a remarkable circumstance about that particular pipe of
tobacco, that it was the most soothing and delightful one he ever smoked.</p>
<p>‘Nathaniel Pipkin thought it best to keep his own counsel, and by so doing
gradually rose into high favour with old Lobbs, who taught him to smoke in
time; and they used to sit out in the garden on the fine evenings, for
many years afterwards, smoking and drinking in great state. He soon
recovered the effects of his attachment, for we find his name in the
parish register, as a witness to the marriage of Maria Lobbs to her
cousin; and it also appears, by reference to other documents, that on the
night of the wedding he was incarcerated in the village cage, for having,
in a state of extreme intoxication, committed sundry excesses in the
streets, in all of which he was aided and abetted by the bony apprentice
with the thin legs.’</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />