第82章
- NICHOLAS NICKLEBY
- Charles Dickens
- 929字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:47
And here it may be observed, that Nicholas was not, in the ordinary sense of the word, a young man of high spirit. He would resent an affront to himself, or interpose to redress a wrong offered to another, as boldly and freely as any knight that ever set lance in rest; but he lacked that peculiar excess of coolness and great-minded selfishness, which invariably distinguish gentlemen of high spirit. In truth, for our own part, we are disposed to look upon such gentleman as being rather incumbrances than otherwise in rising families: happening to be acquainted with several whose spirit prevents their settling down to any grovelling occupation, and only displays itself in a tendency to cultivate moustaches, and look fierce;and although moustaches and ferocity are both very pretty things in their way, and very much to be commended, we confess to a desire to see them bred at the owner's proper cost, rather than at the expense of low-spirited people.
Nicholas, therefore, not being a high-spirited young man according to common parlance, and deeming it a greater degradation to borrow, for the supply of his necessities, from Newman Noggs, than to teach French to the little Kenwigses for five shillings a week, accepted the offer with the alacrity already described, and betook himself to the first floor with all convenient speed.
Here, he was received by Mrs Kenwigs with a genteel air, kindly intended to assure him of her protection and support; and here, too, he found Mr Lillyvick and Miss Petowker; the four Miss Kenwigses on their form of audience;and the baby in a dwarf porter's chair with a deal tray before it, amusing himself with a toy horse without a head; the said horse being composed of a small wooden cylinder, not unlike an Italian iron, supported on four crooked pegs, and painted in ingenious resemblance of red wafers set in blacking.
`How do you do, Mr Johnson?' said Mrs Kenwigs. `Uncle--Mr Johnson.'
`How do you do, sir?' said Mr Lillyvick--rather sharply; for he had not known what Nicholas was, on the previous night, and it was rather an aggravating circumstance if a tax collector had been too polite to a teacher.
`Mr Johnson is engaged as private master to the children, uncle,' said Mrs Kenwigs.
`So you said just now, my dear,' replied Mr Lillyvick.
`But I hope,' said Mrs Kenwigs, drawing herself up, `that that will not make them proud; but that they will bless their own good fortune, which has born them superior to common people's children. Do you hear, Morleena?'
`Yes, ma,' replied Miss Kenwigs.
`And when you go out in the streets, or elsewhere, I desire that you don't boast of it to the other children,' said Mrs Kenwigs; `and that if you must say anything about it, you don't say no more than "We've got a private master comes to teach us at home, but we ain't proud, because ma says it's sinful." Do you hear, Morleena?'
`Yes, ma,' replied Miss Kenwigs again.
`Then mind you recollect, and do as I tell you,' said Mrs Kenwigs. `Shall Mr Johnson begin, uncle?'
`I am ready to hear, if Mr Johnson is ready to commence, my dear,' said the collector, assuming the air of a profound critic. `What sort of language do you consider French, sir?'
`How do you mean?' asked Nicholas.
`Do you consider it a good language, sir?' said the collector; `a pretty language, a sensible language?'
`A pretty language, certainly,' replied Nicholas; `and as it has a name for everything, and admits of elegant conversation about everything, Ipresume it is a sensible one.'
`I don't know,' said Mr Lillyvick, doubtfully. `Do you call it a cheerful language, now?'
`Yes,' replied Nicholas, `I should say it was, certainly.'
`It's very much changed since my time, then,' said the collector, `very much.'
`Was it a dismal one in your time?' asked Nicholas, scarcely able to repress a smile.
`Very,' replied Mr Lillyvick, with some vehemence of manner. `It's the war-time that I speak of; the last war. It may be a cheerful language.
I should be sorry to contradict anybody; but I can only say that I've heard the French prisoners, who were natives, and ought to know how to speak it, talking in such a dismal manner, that it made one miserable to hear them. Ay, that I have, fifty times, sir--fifty times!'
Mr Lillyvick was waxing so cross, that Mrs Kenwigs thought it expedient to motion to Nicholas not to say anything; and it was not until Miss Petowker had practised several blandishments, to soften the excellent old gentleman, that he deigned to break silence by asking, `What's the water in French, sir?'
` L'Eau ,' replied Nicholas.
`Ah!' said Mr Lillyvick, shaking his head mournfully, `I thought as much. Lo, eh? I don't think anything of that language--nothing at all.'
`I suppose the children may begin, uncle?' said Mrs Kenwigs.
`Oh yes; they may begin, my dear,' replied the collector, discontentedly.
` I have no wish to prevent them.'
This permission being conceded, the four Miss Kenwigses sat in a row, with their tails all one way, and Morleena at the top: while Nicholas, taking the book, began his preliminary explanations. Miss Petowker and Mrs Kenwigs looked on, in silent admiration, broken only by the whispered assurances of the latter, that Morleena would have it all by heart in no time; and Mr Lillyvick regarded the group with frowning and attentive eyes, lying in wait for something upon which he could open a fresh discussion on the language.