FullReads

“What is all this talk I ‘ear about the Chinese?” said Mrs. Wilkins to me the other morning. We generally indulge in a little chat while Mrs. Wilkins is laying the breakfast-table. Letters and newspapers do not arrive in my part of the Temple much before nine. From half- past eight to nine I am rather glad of Mrs. Wilkins. “They ‘ave been up to some of their tricks again, ‘aven’t they?”

“The foreigner, Mrs. Wilkins,” I replied, “whether he be Chinee or any other he, is always up to tricks. Was not England specially prepared by an all-wise Providence to frustrate these knavish tricks? Which of such particular tricks may you be referring to at the moment, Mrs. Wilkins?”

“Well, ‘e’s comin’ over ‘ere–isn’t he, sir? to take the work out of our mouths, as it were.”

“Well, not exactly over here, to England, Mrs. Wilkins,” I explained. “He has been introduced into Africa to work in the mines there.”

“It’s a funny thing,” said Mrs. Wilkins, “but to ‘ear the way some of them talk in our block, you might run away with the notion–that is, if you didn’t know ’em–that work was their only joy. I said to one of ’em, the other evening–a man as calls ‘isself a brass finisher, though, Lord knows, the only brass ‘e ever finishes is what ‘is poor wife earns and isn’t quick enough to ‘ide away from ‘im–well, whatever ‘appens, I says, it will be clever of ’em if they take away much work from you. It made them all laugh, that did,” added Mrs. Wilkins, with a touch of pardonable pride.

“Ah,” continued the good lady, “it’s surprising ‘ow contented they can be with a little, some of ’em. Give ’em a ‘ard-working woman to look after them, and a day out once a week with a procession of the unemployed, they don’t ask for nothing more. There’s that beauty my poor sister Jane was fool enough to marry. Serves ‘er right, as I used to tell ‘er at first, till there didn’t seem any more need to rub it into ‘er. She’d ‘ad one good ‘usband. It wouldn’t ‘ave been fair for ‘er to ‘ave ‘ad another, even if there’d been a chance of it, seeing the few of ’em there is to go round among so many. But it’s always the same with us widows: if we ‘appen to ‘ave been lucky the first time, we put it down to our own judgment–think we can’t ever make a mistake; and if we draw a wrong ‘un, as the saying is, we argue as if it was the duty of Providence to make it up to us the second time. Why, I’d a been making a fool of myself three years ago if ‘e ‘adn’t been good-natured enough to call one afternoon when I was out, and ‘ook it off with two pounds eight in the best teapot that I ‘ad been soft enough to talk to ‘im about: and never let me set eyes on ‘im again. God bless ‘im! ‘E’s one of the born-tireds, ‘e is, as poor Jane might ‘ave seen for ‘erself, if she ‘ad only looked at ‘im, instead of listening to ‘im.

“But that’s courtship all the world over–old and young alike, so far as I’ve been able to see it,” was the opinion of Mrs. Wilkins. “The man’s all eyes and the woman all ears. They don’t seem to ‘ave any other senses left ’em. I ran against ‘im the other night, on my way ‘ome, at the corner of Gray’s Inn Road. There was the usual crowd watching a pack of them Italians laying down the asphalt in ‘Olborn, and ‘e was among ’em. ‘E ‘ad secured the only lamp-post, and was leaning agen it.