Chapter IX. To Garum Firs

esallabout,andglitteringweathercocksofvariousdesign,andgarden-walkspavedwithpebblesinbeautifulpatterns,—nothingwasquitecommonatGarumFirsandTomthoughtthattheunusualsizeofthetoadstherewassimplyduetothegeneralunusualnesswhichcharacterisedunclePullet’spossessionsasagentlemanfarmer.Toadswhopaidrentwerenaturallyleaner.Asforthehouse,itwasnotlessremarkableithadarecedingcentre,andtwowingswithbattlementedturrets,andwascoveredwithglitteringwhitestucco. UnclePullethadseentheexpectedpartyapproachingfromthewindow,andmadehastetounbarandunchainthefrontdoor,keptalwaysinthisfortifiedconditionfromfearoftramps,whomightbesupposedtoknowoftheglasscaseofstuffedbirdsinthehall,andtocontemplaterushinginandcarryingitawayontheirheads.AuntPullet,too,appearedatthedoorway,andassoonashersisterwaswithinhearingsaid,“Stopthechildren,forGod’ssake!Bessydon’tlet’emcomeupthedoor-stepsSally’sbringingtheoldmatandtheduster,torubtheirshoes.” MrsPullet’sfront-doormatswerebynomeansintendedtowipeshoesontheveryscraperhadadeputytodoitsdirtywork.Tomrebelledparticularlyagainstthisshoewiping,whichhealwaysconsideredinthelightofanindignitytohissex.HefeltitasthebeginningofthedisagreeablesincidenttoavisitatauntPullet’s,wherehehadoncebeencompelledtositwithtowelswrappedroundhisbootsafactwhichmayservetocorrectthetoohastyconclusionthatavisittoGarumFirsmusthavebeenagreattreattoayounggentlemanfondofanimals,—fond,thatis,ofthrowingstonesatthem. Thenextdisagreeablewasconfinedtohisfemininecompanionsitwasthemountingofthepolishedoakstairs,whichhadveryhandsomecarpetsrolledupandlaidbyinasparebedroom,sothattheascentoftheseglossystepsmighthaveserved,inbarbaroustimes,asatrialbyordealfromwhichnonebutthemostspotlessvirtuecouldhavecomeoffwithunbrokenlimbs.Sophy’sweaknessaboutthesepolishedstairswasalwaysasubjectofbitterremonstranceonMrsGlegg’spartbutMrsTulliverventuredonnocomment,onlythinkingtoherselfitwasamercywhensheandthechildrenweresafeonthelanding. “MrsGrayhassenthomemynewbonnet,Bessy,”saidMrsPullet,inapathetictone,asMrsTulliveradjustedhercap. “Hasshe,sister?”saidMrsTulliver,withanairofmuchinterest.“Andhowdoyoulikeit?” “It’sapttomakeamesswithclothes,taking’emoutandputting’eminagain,”saidMrsPullet,drawingabunchofkeysfromherpocketandlookingatthemearnestly,“butit’udbeapityforyoutogoawaywithoutseeingit.There’snoknowingwhatmayhappen.” MrsPulletshookherheadslowlyatthislastseriousconsideration,whichdeterminedhertosingleoutaparticularkey. “I’mafraidit’llbetroublesometoyougettingitout,sister,”saidMrsTulliver“butIshouldliketoseewhatsortofacrownshe’smadeyou.” MrsPulletrosewithamelancholyairandunlockedonewingofaverybrightwardrobe,whereyoumayhavehastilysupposedshewouldfindanewbonnet.Notatall.SuchasuppositioncouldonlyhavearisenfromatoosuperficialacquaintancewiththehabitsoftheDodsonfamily.InthiswardrobeMrsPulletwasseekingsomethingsmallenoughtobehiddenamonglayersoflinen,—itwasadoor-key. “Youmustcomewithmeintothebestroom,”saidMrsPullet. “Maythechildrencometoo,sister?”inquiredMrsTulliver,whosawthatMaggieandLucywerelookingrathereager. “Well,”saidauntPullet,reflectively,“it’llperhapsbesaferfor’emtocomethey’llbetouchingsomethingifweleave’embehind.” Sotheywentinprocessionalongthebrightandslipperycorridor,dimlylightedbythesemi-lunartopofthewindowwhichroseabovetheclosedshutteritwasreallyquitesolemn.AuntPulletpausedandunlockedadoorwhichopenedonsomethingstillmoresolemnthanthepassage,—adarkenedroom,inwhichtheouterlight,enteringfeebly,showedwhatlookedlikethecorpsesoffurnitureinwhiteshrouds.Everythingthatwasnotshroudedstoodwithitslegsupward.LucylaidholdofMaggie’sfrock,andMaggie’sheartbeatrapidly. AuntPullethalf-openedtheshutterandthenunlockedthewardrobe,withamelancholydeliberatenesswhichwasquiteinkeepingwiththefunerealsolemnityofthescene.Thedeliciousscentofrose-leavesthatissuedfromthewardrobemadetheprocessoftakingoutsheetaftersheetofsilverpaperquitepleasanttoassistat,thoughthesightofthebonnetatlastwasananticlimaxtoMaggie,whowouldhavepreferredsomethingmorestrikinglypreternatural.ButfewthingscouldhavebeenmoreimpressivetoMrsTulliver.Shelookedallrounditinsilenceforsomemoments,andthensaidemphatically,“Well,sister,I’llneverspeakagainstthefullcrownsagain!” Itwasagreatconcession,andMrsPulletfeltitshefeltsomethingwasduetoit. “You’dliketoseeiton,sister?”shesaidsadly.“I’llopentheshutterabitfurther.” “Well,ifyoudon’tmindtakingoffyourcap,sister,”saidMrsTulliver. MrsPullettookoffhercap,displayingthebrownsilkscalpwithajuttingpromontoryofcurlswhichwascommontothemorematureandjudiciouswomenofthosetimes,andplacingthebonnetonherhead,turnedslowlyround,likeadraper’slay-figure,thatMrsTullivermightmissnopointofview. “I’vesometimesthoughtthere’salooptoomucho’ribbononthisleftside,sisterwhatdoyouthink?”saidMrsPullet. MrsTulliverlookedearnestlyatthepointindicated,andturnedherheadononeside.“Well,Ithinkit’sbestasitisifyoumeddledwithit,sister,youmightrepent.” “That’strue,”saidauntPullet,takingoffthebonnetandlookingatitcontemplatively. “Howmuchmightshechargeyouforthatbonnet,sister?”saidMrsTulliver,whosemindwasactivelyengagedonthepossibilityofgettingahumbleimitationofthischef-d’?uvremadefromapieceofsilkshehadath