Part 8 (1/2)

He waited full two minutes; no one came; He waited full two minutes more; and then,-- Says Toby, ”if he's deaf, I'm not to blame; I'll pull it for the gentleman again.”

But the first peal woke Isaac in a fright, Who, quick as lightning, popping up his head, Sat on his head's _Antipodes_, in bed,-- Pale as a parsnip,--bolt upright.

At length he, wisely, to himself did say,-- Calming his fears,-- ”Tus.h.!.+--'tis some fool has rung, and run away;”-- When peal the second rattle'd in his ears!

Shove jump'd into the middle of the floor; And, trembling at each breath of air that stirr'd, He grope'd down stairs, and open'd the street door, While Toby was performing peal the third.

Isaac eye'd Toby, fearfully askant,-- And saw he was a strapper,--stout, and tall; Then, put this question;--”Pray, Sir, what d'ye want?”

Says Toby,--”I want nothing, Sir, at all.”

”Want nothing!--Sir, you've pull'd my bell, I vow, As if you'd jerk it off the wire!”

Quoth Toby,--gravely making him a bow,-- ”I pull'd it, Sir, at your desire.”

”At mine!”--”Yes, yours--I hope I've done it well; High time for bed, Sir; I was hast'ning to it; But if you write up _Please to ring the bell_, Common politeness makes me stop, and do it.”

Isaac, now, waxing wroth apace, Slamm'd the street door in Toby's face, With all his might; And Toby, as he shut it, swore He was a dirty son of--something more Than delicacy suffers me to write: And, lifting up the knocker, gave a knock, So long, and loud, it might have raise'd the dead; Twizzle declares his house sustain'd a shock, Enough to shake his lodgers out of bed.

Toby, his rage thus vented in the rap, Went serpentining home, to take his nap.

'Tis, now, high time to let you know That the obstetrick Doctor Crow Awoke in the beginning of this matter, By Toby's _tintinnabulary_ clatter:

And, knowing that the bell belong'd to Shove, He listen'd in his bed, but did not move;

He only did apostrophize;-- Sending to h.e.l.l Shove, and his bell, That wouldn't let him close his eyes.

But when he heard a thundering _knock_,--says he, ”That's, certainly, a messenger for _me_;-- Somebody ill, in the Brick House, no doubt;”-- Then mutter'd, hurrying on his dressing-gown, ”I wish my Ladies, out of town, Chose more convenient times for crying out!”

Crow, in the dark, now, reached the stair-case head; Shove, in the dark, was coming up to bed.

A combination of ideas flocking, Upon the pericranium of Crow,-- Occasion'd by the hasty knocking, Succeeded by a foot he heard below,--

He did, as many folks are apt to do, Who argue in the dark, and in confusion;-- That is, from the Hypothesis, he drew A false conclusion:

Concluding Shove to be the person sent, With an express, from the brick tenement; Whom Barber Twizzle, torturer of hairs, Had, civilly, let in, and sent up stairs.

As Shove came up, tho' he had, long time, kept His character, for patience, very laudably, He couldn't help, at every step he stepp'd, Grunting, and grumbling, in his gizzard, audibly.

For Isaac's mental feelings, you must know, Not only were considerably hurt, But his corporeal, also-- Having no other clothing than a s.h.i.+rt;-- A dress, beyond all doubt, most light and airy, It being, then, a frost in January.

When Shove was deep down stairs, the Doctor heard, (Being much nearer the stair top,) Just here and there, a random word, Of the Soliloquies that Shove let drop;--

But, shortly, by progression, brought To contact nearer, The Doctor, consequently, heard him clearer,-- And then the f.a.g-end of this sentence caught:

Which Shove repeated warmly, tho' he s.h.i.+ver'd:-- ”d.a.m.n Twizzle's house! and d.a.m.n the Bell!

And d.a.m.n the fool who rang it!--Well, From all such plagues I'll quickly be deliver'd.”

”What?--quickly be deliver'd!” echoes Crow;-- ”Who is it?--Come, be sharp;--reply, reply; Who wants to be deliver'd? let me know.”

Recovering his surprise, Shove answer'd, ”I.”