MRS. TIPPS GOES ON A JOURNEY, AND MEETS A GENTLEMAN WHO, WITH MUCH
ASSURANCE, COMMENTS FREELY ON INSURANCE.
On a particular holiday, it was advertised that a great excursion train
would start from the Clatterby station at a certain hour. At the
appointed time the long line of carriages was pushed up to the platform
by our friend John Marrot, who was appointed that day to drive the
train.
"Bill," remarked John to his mate, "it'll be a biggish train. There's
an uncommon lot o' people on the platform."
"They're pretty thick," replied Will Garvie, wiping his countenance with
a piece of waste, which, while it removed the perspiration, left behind
a good deal of oil, and streaked his nose with coal-dust. But Will was
not particular!
The excursionists were indeed unusually numerous. It chanced to be a
fine day, and the platform was densely crowded with human beings, many
of whom moved, when movement was possible, in groups, showing that there
were various sections that had a common aim and interest, and meant to
keep together as much as possible. There were men there who had
evidently made up their minds to a thoroughly enjoyable day, and women
whose aspect was careworn but cheerful, to whom a holiday was probably a
memorable event in the year. Of young people there was of course a
considerable sprinkling, and amongst the crowd could be seen a number of
individuals whose amused expression of countenance and general aspect
bespoke them ordinary travellers, who meant to avail themselves of a
"cheap train." All classes and conditions of men, women, and children
were hustling each other in a state of great excitement; but the
preponderating class was that which is familiarly though not very
respectfully styled "the masses."
Mrs Marrot was there too--much against her will--and little Gertie. A
sister of the former, who lived about twenty miles from Clatterby, had,
a short time before, made her husband a present of a fine fat pugilistic
boy, and Mrs M felt constrained to pay her a visit.
John was on the look-out for his wife and child, so was Will Garvie.
The former waved a piece of cotton-waste to her when she arrived; she
caught sight of him and gave him a cheerful nod in reply; and an
unexpressed blessing on his weather-beaten face arose in her heart as
Garvie pushed through the crowd and conducted her and Gertie to a
carriage.
Timid little Mrs Tipps was also there. It is probable that no power on
earth, save that of physical force, could have induced Mrs Tipps to
enter an excursion train, for which above all other sorts of trains she
entertained a species of solemn horror. But the excitement consequent
on the unexpected recovery of the diamond ring, and the still more
unexpected accession of wealth consequent thereon, had induced her to
smother her dislike to railways for a time, and avail herself of their
services in order to run down to a town about twenty miles off for the
purpose of telling the good news to Netta, who chanced to be on a short
visit to a friend there at the time. When Mrs Tipps reached the
station, her ignorance of railway matters, and the confused mental state
which was her normal condition, prevented her from observing that the
train was an excursion one. She therefore took out a first-class ticket
and also an insurance ticket for 500 pounds, for which latter she paid
sixpence! Her ignorance and perturbation also prevented her from
observing that this rate of insurance was considerably higher than she
was accustomed to pay, owing to the fact of the train being an excursion
one. If she had been going by an ordinary train, she could have insured
1000 pounds, first-class, for 3 pence; half that sum, second-class, for
2 pence; and 200 pounds, third-class, for the ridiculously small sum of
one penny!
Good Mrs Tipps held the opinion so firmly that accident was the usual,
and all but inevitable, accompaniment of railway travelling, that she
invariably insured her life when compelled to undertake a journey. It
was of no avail that her son Joseph pointed out to her that accidents
were in reality few and far between, and that they bore an excessively
small proportion to the numbers of journeys undertaken annually; Mrs
Tipps was not to be moved. In regard to that subject she had, to use
one of her late husband's phrases, "nailed her colours to the mast," and
could not haul them down even though she would. She therefore, when
about to undertake a journey, invariably took out an insurance ticket,
as we have said,--and this, solely with a views to Netta's future
benefit.
We would not have it supposed that we object, here, to the principle of
insuring against accident. On the contrary, we consider that principle
to be a wise one, and, in some cases, one that becomes almost a duty.
When Mrs Tipps discovered that Mrs Marrot and Gertie were going by the
same train, she was so much delighted at the unlooked-for companionship
that she at once entered the third-class, where they sat, and began to
make herself comfortable beside them, but presently recollecting that
she had a first-class ticket she started up and insisted on Mrs Marrot
and Gertie going first-class along with her, saying that she would pay
the difference. Mrs Marrot remonstrated, but Mrs Tipps, strong in her
natural liberality of spirit which had been rather wildly set free by
her recent good fortune, would not be denied.
"You must come with me, Mrs Marrot," she said. "I'm so frightened in
railways, you have no idea what a relief it is to me to have any one
near me whom I know. I will change your tickets; let me have them,
quick; we have no time to lose--there--now, wait till I return. Oh! I
forgot your insurance tickets."
"W'y, bless you, ma'am, we never insures."
"You never insure!" exclaimed Mrs Tipps in amazement; "and it only
costs you threepence for one thousand pounds."
"Well, I don't know nothink as to that--" said Mrs Marrot.
Before she could finish the sentence Mrs Tipps was gone.
She returned in breathless haste, beckoned Mrs Marrot and Gertie to
follow her, and was finally hurried with them into a first-class
carriage just as the train began to move.
Their only other companion in the carriage was a stout little old
gentleman with a bright complexion, speaking eyes, and a countenance in
which benevolence appeared to struggle with enthusiasm for the mastery.
He was obviously one of those men who delight in conversation, and he
quickly took an opportunity of engaging in it. Observing that Mrs
Tipps presented an insurance ticket to each of her companions, he said--
"I am glad to see, madam, that you are so prudent as to insure the lives
of your friends."
"I always insure my own life," replied Mrs Tipps with a little smile,
"and feel it incumbent on me at least to advise my friends to do the
same."
"Quite right, quite right, madam," replied the enthusiastic little man,
applying his handkerchief to his bald pate with such energy that it
shone like a billiard ball, "quite right, madam. I only wish that the
public at large were equally alive to the great value of insurance
against accident. W'y, ma'am, it's a duty, a positive duty," (here he
addressed himself to Mrs Marrot) "to insure one's life against
accident."
"Oh la! sir, is it?" said Mrs Marrot, quite earnestly.
"Yes, it is. Why, look here--this is your child?"
He laid his hand gently on Gertie's head.
"Yes, sir, she is."
"Well, my good woman, suppose that you are a widow and are killed,"
(Mrs Marrot looked as if she would rather not suppose anything of the
sort), "what I ask, what becomes of your child?--Left a beggar; an
absolute beggar!"
He looked quite triumphantly at Mrs Tipps and her companions, and
waited a few seconds as if to allow the idea to exert its full force on
them.
"But, sir," observed Mrs Marrot meekly, "supposin' that there do be an
accident," (she shivered a little), "that ticket won't prevent me bein'
killed, you know?"
"No, ma'am, no; but it will prevent your sweet daughter from being left
a beggar--that is, on the supposition that you are a widow."
"W'ich I ain't sir, I'm happy to say," remarked Mrs Marrot; "but, sir,
supposin' we was both of us killed--"
She paused abruptly as if she had committed a sin in merely giving
utterance to the idea.
"Why, then, your other children would get the 500 pounds--or your heirs,
whoever they may be. It's a splendid system that, of insurance against
accident. Just look at _me_, now." He spread out his hands and
displayed himself, looking from one to the other as if he were holding
up to admiration something rare and beautiful. "Just look at _me_. I'm
off on a tour of three months through England, Scotland, and Ireland--
not for my health, madam, as you may see--but for scientific purposes.
Well, what do I do? I go to the Railway Passengers Assurance Company's
Office, 64 Cornhill, London, (I like to be particular, you see, as
becomes one who professes to be an amateur student of the exact
sciences), and I take out what they call a Short Term Policy of
Insurance against accidents of all kinds for a thousand pounds--1000
pounds, observe--for which I pay the paltry sum of 30 shillings--1
pound, 10 shillings. Well, what then? Away I go, leaving behind me,
with perfect indifference, a wife and two little boys. Remarkable
little boys, madam, I assure you. Perfect marvels of health and
intelligence, both of 'em--two little boys, madam, which have not been
equalled since Cain and Abel were born. Every one says so, with the
exception of a few of the cynical and jaundiced among men and women.
And, pray, why am I so indifferent? Just because they are provided for.
They have a moderately good income secured to them as it is, and the
1000 pounds which I have insured on my life will render it a competence
in the event of my being killed. It will add 50 pounds a year to their
income, which happens to be the turning-point of comfort. And what of
myself? Why, with a perfectly easy conscience, I may go and do what I
please. If I get drowned in Loch Katrine--what matter? If I break my
neck in the Gap of Dunloe--what matter? If I get lost and frozen on the
steeps of Ben Nevis or Goatfell--what matter? If I am crushed to death
in a railway accident, or get entangled in machinery and am torn to
atoms--still I say, what matter? 1000 pounds must _at_ _once_ be paid
down to my widow and children, and all because of the pitiful sum of 30
shillings.
"But suppose," continued the enthusiastic man, deepening his tone as he
became more earnest, "suppose that I am _not_ killed, but only severely
injured and mangled so as to be utterly unfit to attend to my worldly
affairs--what then?"