File:Our mutual friend (1864) (14760368566).jpg

Identifier: ourmutualfriend01dick (find matches)
Title: Our mutual friend
Year: 1864 (1860s)
Authors: Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870
Subjects: Inheritance and succession Social classes Poor families Deception
Publisher: New York : J. Bradburn, 1864-65
Contributing Library: University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

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ne. The little counter being so short a counter that it leavesthe fire-place, which would have been behind it if it hadbeen longer, accessible, Mr. Wegg sits down on a box infront of the fire, and inhales a warm and comfortablesmell which is not the smell of the shop. For that,Mr. Wegg inwardly decides, as he takes a corrective sniffor two, is musty, Lathery, feathery, cellary, gluey,gummy, and, with another sniff, as it might be, strongof old pairs of bellows. My tea is drawing, and my inuffin is on the hob, Mr.Wegg ; will you partake ? It being one of Mr. Weggs guiding rules in life alwaysto partake, he says he will. But, the little shop is so ex-cessively dark, is stuck so full of black shelves and brack-ets and nooks and corners, that he sees Mr. Yenuss cupand saucer only because it is close under the candle, anddoes not see from what mysterious recess Mr. Yenus pro-duces another for himself, until it is under his nose. Con-currently, Wegg perceives a pretty little dead bird lying
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OUR MUTUAL FKIEND. 121 on the counter, with its head drooping on one side againstthe rim of Mr. Yenuss saucer, and a long stiff wire pierc-ing its breast. As if it were Cock Robin, the hero of theballad, and Mr. Yenus were the sparrow with his bowand arrow, and Mr. Wegg were the fly with his littleeye. Mr. Yenus dives, and produces another muffin, yet un-toasted ; taking the arrow out of the breast of CockRobin, he proceeds to toast it on the end of the cruel in-strument. When it is brown, he dives again and producesbutter, with which he completes his work. Mr. Wegg, as an artful man who is sure of his supperby-and-by, presses muffin on his host to soothe him into acompliant state of mind, or as one might say, to greasehis works. As the muffins disappear, little by little, theblack shelves and nooks and corners begin to appear, andMr. Wegg gradually acquires an imperfect notion thatover against him on the chimney-piece is a Hindoo babyin a bottle, curved up with his big head tucked un

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