City and town life -- Fiction; Urban poor -- Fiction
"I'm a coming to it fast, sir," said Purkis. "I've seen Mr Pellet come
down and stop by the poor-box on the side where the door was open, and
sigh bitterly, and go away again; and though I've watched a deal that
way, I couldn't see nothing wrong out of the pulpit; so, to the utter
neglect of Purkis's boot and shoe emporium, and to the constant
annoyance of Mrs Purkis, which said it was no business of mine, I kep'
on the watching, for I never give way, sir, in anything--not a peg.
Why, sir, I'm a lion to that woman, sir; and as long as I'm a lion, why
she's a lamb; but if I was to stop being a lion, sir, it's my belief
she'd grow into a fierce tiger-cat, sir, and I should only be a mouse.
Never give way to a woman, sir; they're made on purpose to be ruled; and
if you don't rule 'em, sir, why, they'll know as there's something
wrong, and they'll rule you.
"Well, sir, I took to t'other side then, and used to sit in the
reading-desk; and there I never saw anything but aggravation. Young
Ichabod playing pitch-and-nickem with buttons and nickers in the middle
aisle, or turning summersets over the hassocks; and once, I declare
solemnly, I could hardly bear it, for if he didn't get my mace, sir, and
begin by walking up and down, and making believe it was me; then he must
get to balancing it on his chin till he let it go agen one of the lamp
glasses and cracked it, and I'll crack him for it now the thing's found
out, with the very cane too as he took and stole out of mischief. But
the worst of all was when he took and put that there staff across a
couple of the free-seats, and began taking races and jumps over it, just
as if he was in a playground instead of the Holy Catholic Church. Why,
sir, it was enough to make the stone images on the monnyments tumble on
him and crush him into the pavement--a bad dog!
"Then I tried the galleries; but I found out nothing there; and at last
I took to the churchwarden's pew, for I was determined to keep it up;
though I must own, sir, as a man as always speaks the truth--for the
truth may be blamed but can never be shamed--and as one who may soon be
on his oath, but who respex you, and is sorry for you, Mr Ruggles--that
I should have found it out sooner if it hadn't been for the church being
that bitter of a night that I was obliged to take a drop of something to
keep the cold out of me for fear it might affect me so as to make me
sneeze just at the most partickler time."
"Please, sir, do--oh! do go on," cried Tim, imploringly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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