Mr Philip Sparks, though not naturally fond of society, was,
nevertheless, obliged to mingle occasionally with that unpleasant body,
for the purpose of recruiting his finances. He would rather have
remained at home and enjoyed his pipe and beer in solitude, but that was
not possible in the circumstances. Owing, no doubt, to the selfishness
of the age in which he lived, people would _not_ go and pour money into
his pockets, entreat him to accept of the same, and then retire without
giving him any farther trouble. On the contrary, even when he went out
and took a great deal of trouble to obtain money--much more trouble than
he would have had to take, had he been an honest working man--people
refused to give it to him, but freely gave him a good deal of gratuitous
advice instead, and sometimes threatened the donation of other favours
which, in many instances, are said to be more numerous than ha'pence.
Things in general being in this untoward condition, Mr Sparks went out
one morning and entered into society. Society did not regard him with a
favourable eye, but Sparks was not thin-skinned; he persevered, being
determined, come what might, to seek his fortune. Poor fellow, like
many a man in this world who deems himself a most unlucky fellow, he had
yet to learn the lesson that fortunes must be _wrought_ for, not
_sought_ for, if they are to be found.
Finding society gruffer than usual that morning, and not happening to
meet with his or anybody else's fortune in any of the streets, through
which he passed, he resolved to visit Martha Reading's abode; did so,
and found her "not at home." With despairing disgust he then went to
visit his sister.
Mrs Crashington was obviously at home, for she opened the door to him,
and held up her finger.
"Hallo, Mag!" exclaimed Sparks, a little surprised.
"Hush!" said Mrs Crashington, admitting him, "speak low."