Part 52 (2/2)

Quite forgetting even his hunger in the heartiness of his salutation, John Browdie shook Nicholas by the hand again and again, slapping his palreat violence between each shake, to add warmth to the reception

'Ah! there she be,' said John, observing the look which Nicholas directed towards his wife 'There she be-we shan't quarrel about her noo-eh? Ecod, when I think o' thot-but thou want'st soom'at to eat Fall to, mun, fall to, and for wa'at we're aboot to receive-'

No doubt the grace was properly finished, but nothing un to play such a knife and fork, that his speech was, for the tione

'I shall take the usual licence, Mr Browdie,' said Nicholas, as he placed a chair for the bride

'Tak' whatever thou like'st,' said John, 'and when a's gane, ca' forto explain, Nicholas kissed the blushi+ng Mrs Browdie, and handed her to her seat

'I say,' said John, rather astounded for the moment, 'mak' theeself quite at whoam, will 'ee?'

'You may depend upon that,' replied Nicholas; 'on one condition'

'And wa'at may thot be?' asked John

'That you make me a Godfather the very first time you have occasion for one'

'Eh! d'ye hear thot?' cried John, laying down his knife and fork 'A Godfeyther! Ha! ha! ha! Tilly-hear till 'un-a Godfeyther! Divn't say a word more, ye'll never beat thot Occasion for 'un-a Godfeyther! Ha! ha! ha!'

Never was man so tickled with a respectable old joke, as John Broith this He chuckled, roared, half suffocated hie pieces of beef into his windpipe, roared again, persisted in eating at the sahed, cried, got better, went off again laughing inwardly, got worse, choked, had his back thuhtened his wife, and at last recovered in a state of the last exhaustion and with the water strea, 'A Godfeyther-a Godfeyther, Tilly!' in a tone bespeaking an exquisite relish of the sally, which no suffering could diht of our first tea-drinking?' said Nicholas

'Shall I e'er forget it, mun?' replied John Browdie

'He was a desperate fellow that night though, was he not, Mrs Browdie?' said Nicholas 'Quite ahome, Mr Nickleby, you'd have said so indeed,' returned the bride 'I never was so frightened in all rin; 'thou know'st betther than thot, Tilly'

'So I was,' replied Mrs Browdie 'I alain'

'A'rin than the last 'A'most made up her mind! And she wur coaxin', and coaxin', and wheedlin', and wheedlin' a' the blessed wa' ”Wa'at didst thou let yon chap mak' oop tiv'ee for?” says I ”I deedn't, John,” says she, a squeedgin in of ean'

'Lor, John!' interposed his pretty wife, colouring very much 'How can you talk such nonsense? As if I should have drea!'

'I dinnot knohether thou'd ever dreah I think that's loike eneaf, mind,' retorted John; 'but thou didst it ”Ye're a feeckle, changeable weathercock, lass,” says I ”Not feeckle, John,” says she ”Yes,” says I, ”feeckle, dom'd feeckle Dinnot tell me thou bean't, efther yon chap at school ”Ah! him!” says I ”Why, John,” says she-and she cooed a deal harder than she'd deane afore-”dost thou think it's nat'ral noo, that having such a proper mun as thou to keep company wi', I'd ever tak' opp wi' such a leetle scanty whipper-snapper as yon?” she says Ha! ha! ha! She said whipper-snapper! ”Ecod!” I says, ”efther thot, neame the day, and let's have it ower!” Ha! ha! ha!'

Nicholas laughed very heartily at this story, both on account of its telling against hi desirous to spare the blushes of Mrs Browdie, whose protestations were drowned in peals of laughter froood-nature soon put her at her ease; and although she still denied the charge, she laughed so heartily at it, that Nicholas had the satisfaction of feeling assured that in all essential respects it was strictly true

'This is the second tiether, and only third I have ever seen you; and yet it really see old friends'

'Weel!' observed the Yorkshi+re wife

'I have the best reason to be i, mind,' said Nicholas; 'for if it had not been for your kindness of heart, ht or reason to expect it, I know not what ht I should have been in by this tiruffly, 'and dinnot bother'

'Itto the sa 'I told you in my letter that I deeply felt and admired your sympathy with that poor lad, who yourself in trouble and difficulty; but I can never tell you how grateful he and I, and others who pity on hi up his chair; 'and I can never tell YOU hoo gratful soom folks that we do knoould be loikewise, if THEY know'd I had takken pity on him'

'Ah!' exclaiht!'

'Were they at all disposed to give you credit for assisting in the escape?' inquired Nicholas of John Browdie

'Not a bit,' replied the Yorkshi+re in schoolh the pleace ”Weel!” thinks I, ”he's got a pretty good start, and if he bean't whoam by noo, he never will be; so you may coom as quick as you loike, and foind us reddy”-that is, you know, schoolht coom'

'I understand,' said Nicholas

'Presently,' resumed John, 'he DID coo, oop in the daark ”Slow and steddy,” I says to myself, ”tak' your time, sir-no hurry” He cooms to the door, turns the key-turns the key when there warn't nothing to hoold the lock-and ca's oot ”Hallo, there!”-”Yes,” thinks I, ”you ean, and not wakken anybody, sir” ”Hallo, there,” he says, and then he stops ”Thou'd betther not aggravate me,” says schoolmeasther, efther a little time ”I'll brak' every boan in your boddy, Smike,” he says, efther another little tiht, and when it cooms-ecod, such a hoorly-boorly! ”Wa'at's the eance ”Have you heerd nought?” ”Ees,” says I, ”I heerd street-door shut, no ti t'other wa'-eh?) ”Help!” he cries ”I'll help you,” says I; and off we set-the wrong wa'! Ho! ho! ho!'

'Did you go far?' asked Nicholas

'Far!' replied John; 'I run his in quarther of an hoor To see old school oop to his knees ininto ditches, and bawling oot likesharp out for the lad, and his coat-tails flying out behind, and him spattered wi' mud all ower, face and all! I tho't I should ha' dropped doon, and killed hed so heartily at the ion to both his hearers, and all three burst into peals of laughter, which were renewed again and again, until they could laugh no longer

'He's a bad 'un,' said John, wiping his eyes; 'a very bad 'un, is schoolht of him, John,' said his wife

'Coom,' retorted John, 'thot's tidy in you, thot is If it wa'nt along o' you, we shouldn't know nought aboot 'un Thou know'd 'un first, Tilly, didn't thou?'

'I couldn't help knowing fanny Squeers, John,' returned his wife; 'she was an old playmate of mine, you know'

'Weel,' replied John, 'dean't I say so, lass? It's best to be neighbourly, and keep up old acquaintance loike; and what I say is, dean't quarrel if 'ee can help it Dinnot think so, Mr Nickleby?'

'Certainly,' returned Nicholas; 'and you acted upon that principle when I '

'Sure-ly,' said John 'Wa'at I say, I stick by'

'And that's a fine thing to do, and h it's not exactly e understand by ”co Yorkshi+re over us” in London Miss Squeers is stopping with you, you said in your note'

'Yes,' replied John, 'Tilly's bridesmaid; and a queer bridesmaid she be, too She wean't be a bride in a hurry, I reckon'

'For shame, John,' said Mrs Browdie; with an acute perception of the joke though, being a bride herself

'The groo at the idea 'He'll be in luck, he will'