THE tidings of my high fortunes having had a heavy fall, had got down to my native place and its neighbourhood, before I got there. I found the Blue Boar in possession of the intelligence, and I found that it made a great change in the Boar's demeanour. Whereas the Boar had cultivated my good opinion with warm assiduity when I was coming into property, the Boar was exceedingly cool on the subject now that I was going out of property.
It was evening when I arrived, much fatigued by the journey I had so often made so easily. The Boar could not put me into my usual bedroom, which was engaged (probably by some one who had expectations), and could only assign me a very indifferent chamber among the pigeons and post-chaises up the yard. But, I had as sound a sleep in that lodging as in the most superior accommodation the Boar could have given me, and the quality of my dreams was about the same as in the best bedroom.
Early in the morning while my breakfast was getting ready, I strolled round by Satis House. There were printed bills on the gate, and on bits of carpet hanging out of the windows, announcing a sale by auction of the Household Furniture and Effects, next week. The House itself was to be sold as old building materials and pulled down. LOT1 was marked in whitewashed knock-knee letters on the brew house; LOT2 on that part of the main building which had been so long shut up. Other lots were marked off on other parts of the structure, and the ivy had been torn down to make room for the inscriptions, and much of it trailed low in the dust and was withered already. Stepping in for a moment at the open gate and looking around me with the uncomfortable air of a stranger who had no business there, I saw the auctioneer's clerk walking on the casks and telling them off for the information of a catalogue compiler, pen in hand, who made a temporary desk of the wheeled chair Ihad so often pushed along to the tune of Old Clem.
When I got back to my breakfast in the Boar's coffee-room, I found Mr Pumblechook conversing with the landlord. Mr Pumblechook (not improved in appearance by his late nocturnal adventure) was waiting for me, and addressed me in the following terms.
`Young man, I am sorry to see you brought low. But what else could be expected! What else could be expected!'
As he extended his hand with a magnificently forgiving air, and as Iwas broken by illness and unfit to quarrel, I took it.
`William,' said Mr Pumblechook to the waiter, `put a muffin on table.
And has it come to this! Has it come to this!'
I frowningly sat down t my breakfast. Mr Pumblechook stood over me and poured out my tea - before I could touch the teapot - with the air of a benefactor who was resolved to be true to the last.
`William,' said Mr Pumblechook, mournfully, `put the salt on. In happier times,' addressing me, `I think you too sugar. And did you take milk? You did. Sugar and milk. William, bring a watercress.'
`Thank you,' said I, shortly, `but I don't eat watercresses.'
`You don't eat 'em,' returned Mr Pumblechook, sighing and nodding his head several times, as if he might have expected that, and as if abstinence from watercresses were consistent with my downfall. `True. The simple fruits of the earth. No. You needn't bring any, William.'
I went on with my breakfast, and Mr Pumblechook continued to stand over me, staring fishily and breathing noisily, as he always did.
`Little more than skin and bone!' mused Mr Pumblechook, aloud. `And yet when he went from here (I may say with my blessing), and I spread afore him my humble store, like the Bee, he was as plump as a Peach!'
This reminded me of the wonderful difference between the servile manner in which he had offered his hand in my new prosperity, saying, `May I?'
and the ostentatious clemency with which he had just now exhibited the same fat five fingers.
`Hah!' he went on, handing me the bread-and-butter. `And air you a going to Joseph?'
`In heaven's name,' said I, firing in spite of myself, `what does it matter to you where I am going? Leave that teapot alone.'
It was the worst course I could have taken, because it gave Pumblechook the opportunity he wanted.
`Yes, young man,' said he, releasing the handle of the article in question, retiring a step or two from my table, and speaking for the behoof of the landlord and waiter at the door, `I will leave that teapot alone.
You are right, young man. For once, you are right. I forgit myself when I take such an interest in your breakfast, as to wish your frame, exhausted by the debilitating effects of prodigygality, to be stimilated by the 'olesome nourishment of your forefathers. And yet,' said Pumblechook, turning to the landlord and waiter, and pointing me out at arm's length, `this is him as I ever sported with in his days of happy infancy! Tell me not it cannot be; I tell you this is him!'
A low murmur from the two replied. The waiter appeared to be particularly affected.
`This is him,' said Pumblechook, `as I have rode in my shaycart. This is him as I have seen brought up by hand. This is him untoe the sister of which I was uncle by marriage, as her name was Georgiana M'ria from her own mother, let him deny it if he can!'
The waiter seemed convinced that I could not deny it, and that it gave the case a black look.
`Young man,' said Pumblechook, screwing his head at me in the old fashion, `you air a going to Joseph. What does it matter to me, you ask me, where you air going? I say to you, Sir, you air a going to Joseph.'
The waiter coughed, as if he modestly invited to get over that.
`Now,' said Pumblechook, and all this with a most exasperating air of saying in the cause of virtue what was perfectly convincing and conclusive, `I will tell you what to say to Joseph. Here is Squires of the Boar present, known and respected in this town, and here is William, which his father's name was Potkins if I do not deceive myself.'
`You do not, sir,' said William.
