`I have been struck this day,' said Mr. Pecksniff, `with a walking stick (which I have every reason to believe has knobs upon it), on that delicate and exquisite portion of the human anatomy--the brain. Several blows have been inflicted, sir, without a walking-stick, upon that tenderer portion of my frame--my heart. You have mentioned, sir, my being bankrupt in my purse. Yes, sir, I am. By an unfortunate speculation, combined with treachery, I find myself reduced to poverty; at a time, sir, when the child of my bosom is widowed, and affliction and disgrace are in my family.'
Here Mr. Pecksniff wiped his eves again, and gave himself two or three little knocks upon the breast, as if he were answering two or three other little knocks from within, given by the tinkling hammer of his conscience, to express `Cheer up, my boy!'
`I know the human mind, although I trust it. That is my weakness. Do I not know, sir;' here he became exceedingly plaintive and was observed to glance towards Tom Pinch; `that my misfortunes bring this treatment on me? Do I not know, sir, that but for them I never should have heard what I have heard to-day? Do I not know that in the silence and the solitude of night, a little voice will whisper in your ear, Mr. Chuzzlewit, "This was not well. This was not well, sir!" Think of this, sir (if you will have the goodness), remote from the impulses of passion, and apart from the specialities, if I may use that strong remark, of prejudice. And if you ever contemplate the silent tomb, sir, which you will excuse me for entertaining some doubt of your doing, after the conduct into which you have allowed yourself to be betrayed this day; if you ever contemplate the silent tomb sir, think of me. If you find yourself approaching to the silent tomb sir, think of me. If you should wish to have anything inscribed upon your silent tomb, sir, let it be, that I--ah, my remorseful sir! that I--the humble individual who has now the honour of reproaching you, forgave you. That I forgave you when my injuries were fresh, and when my bosom was newly wrung. It may be bitterness to you to hear it now, sir, but you will live to seek a consolation in it. May you find a consolation in it when you want it, sir! Good morning!'
With this sublime address, Mr. Pecksniff departed. But the effect of his departure was much impaired by his being immediately afterwards run against, and nearly knocked down, by a monstrously excited little man in velveteen shorts and a very tall hat; who came bursting up the stairs, and straight into the chambers of Mr. Chuzzlewit, as if he were deranged.
`Is there anybody here that knows him?' cried the little man. `Is there anybody here that knows him? Oh, my stars, is there anybody here that knows him?'
They looked at each other for an explanation; but nobody knew anything more than that here was an excited little man with a very tall hat on, running in and out of the room as hard as he could go; making his single pair of bright blue stockings appear at least a dozen; and constantly repeating in a shrill voice, ` Is there anybody here that knows him?'
`If your brains is not turned topjy turjey, Mr. Sweedlepipes!' exclaimed another voice, `hold that there nige of yourn, I beg you, sir.'
At the same time Mrs. Gamp was seen in the doorway; out of breath from coming up so many stairs, and panting fearfully; but dropping curtseys to the last.
`Excuge the weakness of the man,' said Mrs. Gamp, eyeing Mr. Sweedlepipe with great indignation; `and well I might expect it, as I should have know'd, and wishin' he was drownded in the Thames afore I had brought him here, which not a blessed hour ago he nearly shaved the noge off from the father of as lovely a family as ever, Mr. Chuzzlewit, was born three sets of twins, and would have done it, only he see it a-goin' in the glass, and dodged the rager. And never, Mr. Sweedlepipes, I do assure you, sir, did I so well know what a misfortun it was to be acquainted with you, as now I do, which so I say, sir, and I don't deceive you!'
`I ask your pardon, ladies and gentlemen all,' cried the little barber, taking off his hat, `and yours too, Mrs. Gamp. But--but,' he added this half laughing and half crying, `Is there anybody here that knows him?'
As the barber said these words, a something in top-boots, with its head bandaged up, staggered into the room, and began going round and round and round, apparently under the impression that it was walking straight forward.
`Look at him!' cried the excited little barber. `Here he is! That'll soon wear off, and then he'll be all right again. He's no more dead than I am. He's all alive and hearty. Aint you, Bailey?'
`R--r--reether so, Poll!' replied that gentleman.
