“Very distressing, indeed,” said the drysalter.
“I don’t think,” resumed W., “I felt as much when my poor mother died--I don’t, upon my soul! _She_ was expected for years, but the lady in green came like a thunderbolt!--When I saw the ginger-beer weltering down her, I would almost as soon have seen blood. I felt little short of a murderer. How I got her into Tweedie’s shop, Heaven knows! I suppose I pulled her in, for I cannot remember one word of persuasion. However, I got her into Tweedie’s, and had just sense enough to seat her in a chair, and to beg for a few dry cloths. To do the dear creature justice, she bore it all angelically,--but every smile, every syllable making light of her calamity, went to my heart. You don’t know my original old friend, Charles Mathews, do you, Sir?”
“No matter--his theory is right all over--it is as true as gospel!” exclaimed W., with an asseverating thump upon the table. “There _is_ an infernal, malicious, aggravating little demon, hovers up aloft about us, wherever we go, ready to magnify any mischief, and deepen every disaster. Sure I am he hovered about me! The cloths came--but as soon as I began to wipe briskly, bang again went ‘t’other bottle,’ and uncorked itself before it was called for. I shall never forget the sound! Pop, whiz, fiz, whish--ish--slish--slosh--slush--guggle, guggle, guggle: I’d rather have been at the exploding of the Dartford Powder Mills! At the first report I turned hastily round, but by so doing, I only diverted the _jet_ from the open cases on the counter, to the show-trays in the shop window, filled with Tweedie’s choicest cutlery; and as I completed the pirouette, I favoured Tweedie himself with the tail of the spout!”
“Very unpleasant, indeed,” said the drysalter, with a hard wink, as if the fussy fluid had flown in his own face.
“Unpleasant!” ejaculated W., “it was unendurable! I could have cut my throat with one of the wet razors--I could have stabbed myself with a pair of the splashed scissors! The mess was frightful--bright steel buckles, buttons, clasps, rings, all cut and polished--I saw Tweedie himself shake his head as he looked at the chains and some of the delicate articles. It wasn’t a time to stand upon words, and I believe I cursed and swore like a trooper. I know I stamped about, for I went on the lady’s foot, and that made me worse than ever. Tweedie says I raved; and I do remember I cursed myself for talking of ginger-beer, as well as Hopkins for not keeping it in his house. At last I got so rampant, that even the lady began to console me, and as she had a particularly sweet voice and manner, and Tweedie too, trying to make things comfortable, I began to hear reason: but if ever I carry ginger-beer again in my pocket, along Cheapside----”