`The Lord Mayor, Wally,' said Solomon, `for ever! No more admirals. The Lord Mayor's your admiral.'

`Oh, is he though!' said the boy, shaking his head. `Why, the Sword Bearer's better than him. He draws his sword sometimes.'

`And a pretty figure he cuts with it for his pains,' returned the Uncle. `Listen to me, Wally, listen to me. Look on the mantel-shelf.'

`Why who has cocked my silver mug up there, on a nail?' exclaimed the boy.

`I have,' said his Uncle. `No more mugs now. We must begin to drink out of glasses to-day, Walter. We are men of business. We belong to the City. We started in life this morning.'

`Well, Uncle,' said the boy, `I'll drink out of anything you like, so long as I can drink to you. Here's to you Uncle Sol, and Hurrah for the--'

`Lord Mayor,' interrupted the old man.

`For the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Common Council, and Livery,' said the boy. `Long life to 'em!'

The uncle nodded his head with great satisfaction. `And now,' he said, `let's hear something about the firm.'

`Oh! there's not much to be told about the Firm, Uncle,' said the boy, plying his knife and fork. `It's a precious dark set of offices, and in the room where I sit, there's a high fender, and an iron safe, and some cards about ships that are going to sail, and an almanack, and some desks and stools, and an inkbottle, and some books, and some boxes, and a lot of cobwebs, and in one of 'em, just over my head, a shrivelled-up blue-bottle that looks as if it had hung there ever so long.'

`Nothing else?' said the uncle.

`No, nothing else, except an old bird-cage (I wonder how that ever came there!) and a coal-scuttle.'

`No, bankers' books, or cheque books, or bills, or such tokens of wealth rolling in from day to day?' said old Sol, looking wistfully at his nephew out of the fog that always seemed to hang about him, and laying an unctuous emphasis upon the words.

`Oh yes, plenty of that I suppose,' returned his nephew carelessly; `but all that sort of thing's in Mr. Carker's room, or Mr. Morfin's, or Mr. Dombey's.'

`Has Mr. Dombey been there to-day?' inquired the Uncle.

`Oh yes! In and out all day.'

`He didn't take any notice of you, I suppose?'

`Yes he did. He walked up to my seat--I wish he wasn't so solemn and stiff, Uncle, and said, "Oh! you are the son of Mr. Gills the Ships' Instrument-maker." "Nephew, Sir," I said. "I said nephew, boy," said he. But I could take my oath he said Son, uncle.'

`You're mistaken I dare say. It's no matter.'

`No, it's no matter, but he needn't have been so sharp, I thought. There was no harm in it though he did say Son. Then he told me that you had spoken to him about me, and that he had found me employment in the House accordingly, and that I was expected to be attentive and punctual, and then he went away. I thought he didn't seem to like me much.'


  By PanEris using Melati.

Previous chapter/page Back Home Email this Search Discuss Bookmark Next chapter/page
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd, and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission. See our FAQ for more details.