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1Now, Joe kept a journeyman at weekly wages whose name was Orlick. He pretended that his Christian name was Dolge,--a
2clear Impossibility,--but he was a fellow of that obstinate disposition that I believe him to have been the prey of no
3delusion in this particular, but wilfully to have imposed that name upon the village as an affront to its understanding.
4He was a broadshouldered loose-limbed swarthy fellow of great strength, never in a hurry, and always slouching. He never
5even seemed to come to his work on purpose, but would slouch in as if by mere accident; and when he went to the Jolly
6Bargemen to eat his dinner, or went away at night, he would slouch out, like Cain or the Wandering Jew, as if he had no
7idea where he was going and no intention of ever coming back. He lodged at a sluice-keeper's out on the marshes, and on
8working-days would come slouching from his hermitage, with his hands in his pockets and his dinner loosely tied in a
9bundle round his neck and dangling on his back. On Sundays he mostly lay all day on the sluice-gates, or stood against
10ricks and barns. He always slouched, locomotively, with his eyes on the ground; and, when accosted or otherwise required
11to raise them, he looked up in a half-resentful, half-puzzled way, as though the only thought he ever had was, that it
12was rather an odd and injurious fact that he should never be thinking. This morose journeyman had no liking for me. When
13I was very small and timid, he gave me to understand that the Devil lived in a black corner of the forge, and that he
14knew the fiend very well: also that it was necessary to make up the fire, once in seven years, with a live boy, and that
15I might consider myself fuel. When I became Joe's 'prentice, Orlick was perhaps confirmed in some suspicion that I
16should displace him; howbeit, he liked me still less. Not that he ever said anything, or did anything, openly importing
17hostility; I only noticed that he always beat his sparks in my direction, and that whenever I sang Old Clem, he came in
18out of time. Dolge Orlick was at work and present, next day, when I reminded Joe of my half-holiday. He said nothing at
19the moment, for he and Joe had just got a piece of hot iron between them, and I was at the bellows; but by and by he
20said, leaning on his hammer,-- "Now, master! Sure you're not a-going to favour only one of us. If Young Pip has a
21half-holiday, do as much for Old Orlick." I suppose he was about five-and-twenty, but he usually spoke of himself as an
22ancient person. "Why, what'll you do with a half-holiday, if you get it?" said Joe. "What'll I do with it! What'll he do
23with it? I'll do as much with it as him," said Orlick. "As to Pip, he's going up town," said Joe. "Well then, as to Old
24Orlick, he's a-going up town," retorted that worthy. "Two can go up town. Tain't only one wot can go up town. "Don't
25lose your temper," said Joe. "Shall if I like," growled Orlick. "Some and their uptowning! Now, master! Come. No
26favouring in this shop. Be a man!" The master refusing to entertain the subject until the journeyman was in a better
27temper, Orlick plunged at the furnace, drew out a red-hot bar, made at me with it as if he were going to run it through
28my body, whisked it round my head, laid it on the anvil, hammered it out,--as if it were I, I thought, and the sparks
29were my spirting blood,--and finally said, when he had hammered himself hot and the iron cold, and he again leaned on
30his hammer,-- "Now, master!" "Are you all right now?" demanded Joe. "Ah! I am all right," said gruff Old Orlick. "Then,
31as in general you stick to your work as well as most men," said Joe, "let it be a half-holiday for all." My sister had
32been standing silent in the yard, within hearing,--she was a most unscrupulous spy and listener,--and she instantly
33looked in at one of the windows. "Like you, you fool!" said she to Joe, "giving holidays to great idle hulkers like
34that. You are a rich man, upon my life, to waste wages in that way. I wish I was his master!" "You'd be everybody's
35master, if you durst," retorted Orlick, with an ill-favoured grin. ("Let her alone," said Joe.) "I'd be a match for all
36noodles and all rogues," returned my sister, beginning to work herself into a mighty rage. "And I couldn't be a match
37for the noodles, without being a match for your master, who's the dunder-headed king of the noodles. And I couldn't be a
38match for the rogues, without being a match for you, who are the blackest-looking and the worst rogue between this and
39France. Now!" "You're a foul shrew, Mother Gargery," growled the journeyman. "If that makes a judge of rogues, you ought
40to be a good'un." ("Let her alone, will you?" said Joe.) "What did you say?" cried my sister, beginning to scream. "What
41did you say? What did that fellow Orlick say to me, Pip? What did he call me, with my husband standing by? Oh! oh! oh!"
42Each of these exclamations was a shriek; and I must remark of my sister, what is equally true of all the violent women I
43have ever seen, that passion was no excuse for her, because it is undeniable that instead of lapsing into passion, she
44consciously and deliberately took extraordinary pains to force herself into it, and became blindly furious by regular
45stages; "what was the name he gave me before the base man who swore to defend me? Oh! Hold me! Oh!" "Ah-h-h!" growled
46the journeyman, between his teeth, "I'd hold you, if you was my wife. I'd hold you under the pump, and choke it out of
47you." ("I tell you, let her alone," said Joe.) "Oh! To hear him!" cried my sister, with a clap of her hands and a scream
48together,--which was her next stage. "To hear the names he's giving me! That Orlick! In my own house! Me, a married
49woman! With my husband standing by! Oh! Oh!" Here my sister, after a fit of clappings and screamings, beat her hands
50upon her bosom and upon her knees, and threw her cap off, and pulled her hair down,--which were the last stages on her
51road to frenzy. Being by this time a perfect Fury and a complete success, she made a dash at the door which I had
52fortunately locked. What could the wretched Joe do now, after his disregarded parenthetical interruptions, but stand up
53to his journeyman, and ask him what he meant by interfering betwixt himself and Mrs. Joe; and further whether he was man
54enough to come on? Old Orlick felt that the situation admitted of nothing less than coming on, and was on his defence
55straightway; so, without so much as pulling off their singed and burnt aprons, they went at one another, like two
56giants. But, if any man in that neighbourhood could stand uplong against Joe, I never saw the man. Orlick, as if he had
57been of no more account than the pale young gentleman, was very soon among the coal-dust, and in no hurry to come out of
58it. Then Joe unlocked the door and picked up my sister, who had dropped insensible at the window (but who had seen the
59fight first, I think), and who was carried into the house and laid down, and who was recommended to revive, and would do
60nothing but struggle and clench her hands in Joe's hair. Then came that singular calm and silence which succeed all
61uproars; and then, with the vague sensation which I have always connected with such a lull,--namely, that it was Sunday,
62and somebody was dead,--I went upstairs to dress myself. [Illustration] When I came down again, I found Joe and Orlick
63sweeping up, without any other traces of discomposure than a slit in one of Orlick's nostrils, which was neither
64expressive nor ornamental. A pot of beer had appeared from the Jolly Bargemen, and they were sharing it by turns in a
65peaceable manner. The lull had a sedative and philosophical influence on Joe, who followed me out into the road to say,
66as a parting observation that might do me good, "On the Rampage, Pip, and off the Rampage, Pip:--such is Life!"
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