"An' I 'low, by an' all," my uncle would boast, scratching his head in
high gratification, "that I'm a-fetchin' ye up very well!"
'Twas hard on old Elihu Wall--this unearned abuse. But Elihu and I
were fast friends, nevertheless: he sped many a wearisome hour for me
when my uncle was upon his grim, mysterious business in the city; and
I had long ago told him that he must not grieve, whatever I
said--however caustic and unkind the words--because my uncle's whims
must be humored, which was the end to be served by us both. With this
assurance of good feeling, old Elihu Wall was content. He took my
insolence in good part, playing the game cheerfully: knowing that the
hard words were uttered without intention to wound, but only in
imitation of gentlemen, from whom Elihu Wall suffered enough, Heaven
knows! (as he confided to me) not to mind what I might say.
* * * * *
I must tell that, once, taken with pain, having overeaten myself, left
alone in the hotel at St. John's, I got out of bed and sought my
uncle's lodgings, which I was never permitted to see. 'Twas a rough
search for a sick child to follow through in the night, ending by the
water-side--a dismal stair, leading brokenly to a wretched room,
situate over a tap-room too low for frequency by us, where women
quarrelled with men. Here my uncle sat with his bottle, not yet turned
in. He was amazed when I entered, but scolded me not at all; and he
gave me brandy to drink, until my head swam, and took me to sleep with
him, for the only time in all my life. When I awoke 'twas to disgust
with the bed and room in which I lay--with the smell and dirt of the
place--the poverty and sordidness, to which I was not used.