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1I fully expected to find a Constable in the kitchen, waiting to take me up. But not only was there no Constable there,
2but no discovery had yet been made of the robbery. Mrs. Joe was prodigiously busy in getting the house ready for the
3festivities of the day, and Joe had been put upon the kitchen doorstep to keep him out of the dust-pan,--an article into
4which his destiny always led him, sooner or later, when my sister was vigorously reaping the floors of her
5establishment. "And where the deuce ha' you been?" was Mrs. Joe's Christmas salutation, when I and my conscience showed
6ourselves. I said I had been down to hear the Carols. "Ah! well!" observed Mrs. Joe. "You might ha' done worse." Not a
7doubt of that I thought. "Perhaps if I warn't a blacksmith's wife, and (what's the same thing) a slave with her apron
8never off, I should have been to hear the Carols," said Mrs. Joe. "I'm rather partial to Carols, myself, and that's the
9best of reasons for my never hearing any." Joe, who had ventured into the kitchen after me as the dustpan had retired
10before us, drew the back of his hand across his nose with a conciliatory air, when Mrs. Joe darted a look at him, and,
11when her eyes were withdrawn, secretly crossed his two forefingers, and exhibited them to me, as our token that Mrs. Joe
12was in a cross temper. This was so much her normal state, that Joe and I would often, for weeks together, be, as to our
13fingers, like monumental Crusaders as to their legs. We were to have a superb dinner, consisting of a leg of pickled
14pork and greens, and a pair of roast stuffed fowls. A handsome mince-pie had been made yesterday morning (which
15accounted for the mincemeat not being missed), and the pudding was already on the boil. These extensive arrangements
16occasioned us to be cut off unceremoniously in respect of breakfast; "for I ain't," said Mrs. Joe,--"I ain't a-going to
17have no formal cramming and busting and washing up now, with what I've got before me, I promise you!" So, we had our
18slices served out, as if we were two thousand troops on a forced march instead of a man and boy at home; and we took
19gulps of milk and water, with apologetic countenances, from a jug on the dresser. In the meantime, Mrs. Joe put clean
20white curtains up, and tacked a new flowered flounce across the wide chimney to replace the old one, and uncovered the
21little state parlour across the passage, which was never uncovered at any other time, but passed the rest of the year in
22a cool haze of silver paper, which even extended to the four little white crockery poodles on the mantel-shelf, each
23with a black nose and a basket of flowers in his mouth, and each the counterpart of the other. Mrs. Joe was a very clean
24housekeeper, but had an exquisite art of making her cleanliness more uncomfortable and unacceptable than dirt itself.
25Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and some people do the same by their religion. My sister, having so much to do, was
26going to church vicariously, that is to say, Joe and I were going. In his working-clothes, Joe was a well-knit
27characteristic-looking blacksmith; in his holiday clothes, he was more like a scarecrow in good circumstances, than
28anything else. Nothing that he wore then fitted him or seemed to belong to him; and everything that he wore then grazed
29him. On the present festive occasion he emerged from his room, when the blithe bells were going, the picture of misery,
30in a full suit of Sunday penitentials. As to me, I think my sister must have had some general idea that I was a young
31offender whom an Accoucheur Policeman had taken up (on my birthday) and delivered over to her, to be dealt with
32according to the outraged majesty of the law. I was always treated as if I had insisted on being born in opposition to
33the dictates of reason, religion, and morality, and against the dissuading arguments of my best friends. Even when I was
34taken to have a new suit of clothes, the tailor had orders to make them like a kind of Reformatory, and on no account to
35let me have the free use of my limbs. Joe and I going to church, therefore, must have been a moving spectacle for
36compassionate minds. Yet, what I suffered outside was nothing to what I underwent within. The terrors that had assailed
37me whenever Mrs. Joe had gone near the pantry, or out of the room, were only to be equalled by the remorse with which my
38mind dwelt on what my hands had done. Under the weight of my wicked secret, I pondered whether the Church would be
39powerful enough to shield me from the vengeance of the terrible young man, if I divulged to that establishment. I
40conceived the idea that the time when the banns were read and when the clergyman said, "Ye are now to declare it!" would
41be the time for me to rise and propose a private conference in the vestry. I am far from being sure that I might not
42have astonished our small congregation by resorting to this extreme measure, but for its being Christmas Day and no
43Sunday. Mr. Wopsle, the clerk at church, was to dine with us; and Mr. Hubble the wheelwright and Mrs. Hubble; and Uncle
44Pumblechook (Joe's uncle, but Mrs. Joe appropriated him), who was a well-to-do cornchandler in the nearest town, and
45drove his own chaise-cart. The dinner hour was half-past one. When Joe and I got home, we found the table laid, and Mrs.
46Joe dressed, and the dinner dressing, and the front door unlocked (it never was at any other time) for the company to
47enter by, and everything most splendid. And still, not a word of the robbery. The time came, without bringing with it
48any relief to my feelings, and the company came. Mr. Wopsle, united to a Roman nose and a large shining bald forehead,
49had a deep voice which he was uncommonly proud of; indeed it was understood among his acquaintance that if you could
50only give him his head, he would read the clergyman into fits; he himself confessed that if the Church was "thrown
51open," meaning to competition, he would not despair of making his mark in it. The Church not being "thrown open," he
52was, as I have said, our clerk. But he punished the Amens tremendously; and when he gave out the psalm,--always giving
53the whole verse,--he looked all round the congregation first, as much as to say, "You have heard my friend overhead;
54oblige me with your opinion of this style!" I opened the door to the company,--making believe that it was a habit of
55ours to open that door,--and I opened it first to Mr. Wopsle, next to Mr. and Mrs. Hubble, and last of all to Uncle
56Pumblechook. N.B. I was not allowed to call him uncle, under the severest penalties. "Mrs. Joe," said Uncle Pumblechook,
57a large hard-breathing middle-aged slow man, with a mouth like a fish, dull staring eyes, and sandy hair standing
58upright on his head, so that he looked as if he had just been all but choked, and had that moment come to, "I have
59brought you as the compliments of the season--I have brought you, Mum, a bottle of sherry wine--and I have brought you,
60Mum, a bottle of port wine." Every Christmas Day he presented himself, as a profound novelty, with exactly the same
61words, and carrying the two bottles like dumb-bells. Every Christmas Day, Mrs. Joe replied, as she now replied, "O,
62Un--cle Pum-ble--chook! This is kind!" Every Christmas Day, he retorted, as he now retorted, "It's no more than your
63merits. And now are you all bobbish, and how's Sixpennorth of halfpence?" meaning me. We dined on these occasions in the
64kitchen, and adjourned, for the nuts and oranges and apples to the parlour; which was a change very like Joe's change
65from his working-clothes to his Sunday dress. My sister was uncommonly lively on the present occasion, and indeed was
66generally more gracious in the society of Mrs. Hubble than in other company. I remember Mrs. Hubble as a little curly
67sharp-edged person in sky-blue, who held a conventionally juvenile position, because she had married Mr. Hubble,--I
68don't know at what remote period,--when she was much younger than he. I remember Mr Hubble as a tough, high-shouldered,
69stooping old man, of a sawdusty fragrance, with his legs extraordinarily wide apart: so that in my short days I always
70saw some miles of open country between them when I met him coming up the lane.
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