"You ought to be very rich, Mr. Caudle. I wonder who'd lend you five
pounds? But so it is: a wife may work and may slave! Ha, dear! the
many things that might have been done with five pounds. As if people
picked up money in the street! But you always were a fool, Mr.
Caudle! I've wanted a black satin gown these three years, and that
five pounds would have entirely bought it. But it's no matter how I
go,--not at all. Everybody says I don't dress as becomes your wife--
and I don't; but what's that to you, Mr. Caudle? Nothing. Oh, no!
you can have fine feelings for everybody but those belonging to you.
I wish people knew you, as I do--that's all. You like to be called
liberal--and your poor family pays for it.
"All the girls want bonnets, and where they're to come from I can't
tell. Half five pounds would have bought 'em--but now they must go
without. Of course, THEY belong to you: and anybody but your own
flesh and body, Mr. Caudle!
"The man called for the water-rate to-day; but I should like to know
how people are to pay taxes, who throw away five pounds to every
fellow that asks them?
"Perhaps you don't know that Jack, this morning, knocked his
shuttlecock through his bedroom window. I was going to send for the
glazier to mend it; but after you lent that five pounds I was sure we
couldn't afford it. Oh, no! the window must go as it is; and pretty
weather for a dear child to sleep with a broken window. He's got a
cold already on his lungs, and I shouldn't at all wonder if that
broken window settled him. If the dear boy dies, his death will be
upon his father's head; for I'm sure we can't now pay to mend
windows. We might though, and do a good many more things too, if
people didn't throw away their five pounds.
"Next Tuesday the fire-insurance is due. I should like to know how
it's to be paid? Why, it can't be paid at all! That five pounds
would have more than done it--and now, insurance is out of the
question. And there never were so many fires as there are now. I
shall never close my eyes all night,--but what's that to you, so
people can call you liberal, Mr. Caudle? Your wife and children may
all be burnt alive in their beds--as all of us to a certainty shall
be, for the insurance MUST drop. And after we've insured for so many
years! But how, I should like to know, are people to insure who make
ducks and drakes of their five pounds?
"I did think we might go to Margate this summer. There's poor little
Caroline, I'm sure she wants the sea. But no, dear creature! she
must stop at home--all of us must stop at home--she'll go into a
consumption, there's no doubt of that; yes--sweet little angel!--I've
made up my mind to lose her, NOW. The child might have been saved;
but people can't save their children and throw away their five pounds
too.
"I wonder where poor little Mopsy is! While you were lending that
five pounds, the dog ran out of the shop. You know, I never let it
go into the street, for fear it should be bit by some mad dog, and
come home and bite all the children. It wouldn't now at all astonish
me if the animal was to come back with the hydrophobia, and give it
to all the family. However, what's your family to you, so you can
play the liberal creature with five pounds?
"Do you hear that shutter, how it's banging to and fro? Yes,--I know
what it wants as well as you; it wants a new fastening. I was going
to send for the blacksmith to-day, but now it's out of the question:
NOW it must bang of nights, since you've thrown away five pounds.
"Ha! there's the soot falling down the chimney. If I hate the smell
of anything, it's the smell of soot. And you know it; but what are
my feelings to you? SWEEP THE CHIMNEY! Yes, it's all very fine to
say sweep the chimney--but how are chimneys to be swept--how are they
to be paid for by people who don't take care of their five pounds?
"Do you hear the mice running about the room? I hear them. If they
were to drag only you out of bed, it would be no matter. SET A TRAP
FOR THEM! Yes, it's easy enough to say--set a trap for 'em. But how
are people to afford mouse-traps, when every day they lose five
pounds?
"Hark! I'm sure there's a noise downstairs. It wouldn't at all
surprise me if there were thieves in the house. Well, it MAY be the
cat; but thieves are pretty sure to come in some night. There's a
wretched fastening to the back-door; but these are not times to
afford bolts and bars, when people won't take care of their five
pounds.
"Mary Anne ought to have gone to the dentist's to-morrow. She wants
three teeth taken out. Now, it can't be done. Three teeth that
quite disfigure the child's mouth. But there they must stop, and
spoil the sweetest face that was ever made. Otherwise, she'd have
been a wife for a lord. Now, when she grows up, who'll have her?
Nobody. We shall die, and leave her alone and unprotected in the
world. But what do you care for that? Nothing; so you can squander
away five pounds."
"And thus," comments Caudle, "according to my wife, she--dear soul!--
couldn't have a satin gown--the girls couldn't have new bonnets--the
water-rate must stand over--Jack must get his death through a broken
window--our fire-insurance couldn't be paid, so that we should all
fall victims to the devouring element--we couldn't go to Margate, and
Caroline would go to an early grave--the dog would come home and bite
us all mad--the shutter would go banging for ever--the soot would
always fall--the mice never let us have a wink of sleep--thieves be
always breaking in the house--our dear Mary Anne be for ever left an
unprotected maid,--and with other evils falling upon us, all, all
because I would go on lending five pounds!"
LECTURE II--MR. CAUDLE HAS BEEN AT A TAVERN WITH A FRIEND, AND IS
"ENOUGH TO POISON A WOMAN" WITH TOBACCO-SMOKE
"Poor me! Ha! I'm sure I don't know who'd be a poor woman! I don't
know who'd tie themselves up to a man, if they knew only half they'd
have to bear. A wife must stay at home, and be a drudge, whilst a
man can go anywhere. It's enough for a wife to sit like Cinderella
by the ashes, whilst her husband can go drinking and singing at a
tavern. YOU NEVER SING? How do I know you never sing? It's very
well for you to say so; but if I could hear you, I daresay you're
among the worst of 'em.
"And now, I suppose, it will be the tavern every night? If you think
I'm going to sit up for you, Mr. Caudle, you're very much mistaken.
No: and I'm not going to get out of my warm bed to let you in,
either. No: nor Susan shan't sit up for you. No: nor you shan't
have a latchkey. I'm not going to sleep with the door upon the
latch, to be murdered before the morning.
"Faugh! Pah! Whewgh! That filthy tobacco-smoke! It's enough to
kill any decent woman. You know I hate tobacco, and yet you will do
it. YOU DON'T SMOKE YOURSELF? What of that? If you go among people
who DO smoke, you're just as bad, or worse. You might as well smoke-
-indeed, better. Better smoke yourself than come home with other
people's smoke all in your hair and whiskers.
"I never knew any good come to a man who went to a tavern. Nice
companions he picks up there! Yes! people who make it a boast to
treat their wives like slaves, and ruin their families. There's that
wretch Harry Prettyman. See what he's come to! He doesn't get home
now till two in the morning; and then in what a state! He begins
quarrelling with the door-mat, that his poor wife may be afraid to
speak to him. A mean wretch! But don't you think I'll be like Mrs.
Prettyman. No: I wouldn't put up with it from the best man that
ever trod. You'll not make me afraid to speak to you, however you
may swear at the door-mat. No, Mr. Caudle, that you won't.
"YOU DON'T INTEND TO STAY OUT TILL TWO IN THE MORNING?
"How do you know what you'll do when you get among such people? Men
can't answer for themselves when they get boozing one with another.
They never think of their poor wives, who are grieving and wearing
themselves out at home. A nice headache you'll have to-morrow
morning--or rather THIS morning; for it must be past twelve. YOU
WON'T HAVE A HEADACHE? It's very well for you to say so, but I know
you will; and then you may nurse yourself for me. Ha! that filthy
tobacco again! No; I shall not go to sleep like a good soul. How's
people to go to sleep when they're suffocated?
"Yes, Mr. Caudle, you'll be nice and ill in the morning! But don't
you think I'm going to let you have your breakfast in bed, like Mrs.
Prettyman. I'll not be such a fool. No; nor I won't have discredit
brought upon the house by sending for soda-water early, for all the
neighbourhood to say, 'Caudle was drunk last night.' No: I've some
regard for the dear children, if you haven't. No: nor you shan't
have broth for dinner. Not a neck of mutton crosses my threshold, I
can tell you.
"YOU WON'T WANT SODA, AND YOU WON'T WANT BROTH? All the better. You
wouldn't get 'em if you did, I can assure you.--Dear, dear, dear!
That filthy tobacco! I'm sure it's enough to make me as bad as you
are. Talking about getting divorced,--I'm sure tobacco ought to be
good grounds. How little does a woman think, when she marries, that
she gives herself up to be poisoned! You men contrive to have it all
of your own side, you do. Now if I was to go and leave you and the
children, a pretty noise there'd be! You, however, can go and smoke
no end of pipes and--YOU DIDN'T SMOKE? It's all the same, Mr.
Caudle, if you go among smoking people. Folks are known by their
company. You'd better smoke yourself, than bring home the pipes of
all the world.
"Yes, I see how it will be. Now you've once gone to a tavern, you'll
always be going. You'll be coming home tipsy every night; and
tumbling down and breaking your leg, and putting out your shoulder;
and bringing all sorts of disgrace and expense upon us. And then
you'll be getting into a street fight--oh! I know your temper too
well to doubt it, Mr. Caudle--and be knocking down some of the
police. And then I know what will follow. It MUST follow. Yes,
you'll be sent for a month or six weeks to the treadmill. Pretty
thing that, for a respectable tradesman, Mr. Caudle, to be put upon
the treadmill with all sorts of thieves and vagabonds, and--there,
again, that horrible tobacco!--and riffraff of every kind. I should
like to know how your children are to hold up their heads, after
their father has been upon the treadmill?--No; I WON'T go to sleep.
And I'm not talking of what's impossible. I know it will all happen-
-every bit of it. If it wasn't for the dear children, you might be
ruined and I wouldn't so much as speak about it, but--oh, dear, dear!
at least you might go where they smoke GOOD tobacco--but I can't
forget that I'm their mother. At least, they shall have ONE parent.
"Taverns! Never did a man go to a tavern who didn't die a beggar.
And how your pot-companions will laugh at you when they see your name
in the Gazette! For it MUST happen. Your business is sure to fall
off; for what respectable people will buy toys for their children of
a drunkard? You're not a drunkard! No: but you will be--it's all
the same.
"You've begun by staying out till midnight. By-and-by 'twill be all
night. But don't you think, Mr. Caudle, you shall ever have a key.
I know you. Yes; you'd do exactly like that Prettyman, and what did
he do, only last Wednesday? Why, he let himself in about four in the
morning, and brought home with him his pot-companion, Puffy. His
dear wife woke at six, and saw Prettyman's dirty boots at her
bedside. And where was the wretch, her husband? Why, he was
drinking downstairs--swilling. Yes; worse than a midnight robber,
he'd taken the keys out of his dear wife's pockets--ha! what that
poor creature has to bear!--and had got at the brandy. A pretty
thing for a wife to wake at six in the morning, and instead of her
husband to see his dirty boots!
"But I'll not be made your victim, Mr. Caudle, not I. You shall
never get at my keys, for they shall lie under my pillow--under my
own head, Mr. Caudle.
"You'll be ruined, but if I can help it, you shall ruin nobody but
yourself.
"Oh, that hor--hor--hor--i--ble tob--ac--co!"
To this lecture, Caudle affixes no comment. A certain proof, we
think, that the man had nothing to say for himself.