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such smoothness that you've no idea of the pattern painted on 'em； or
the little window in 'em。 I wish to call your attention to myself for a
moment。 I an't an agreeable style of chap； I know that very well。'
The auditory were divided on this point； its more unpromising members
crying； 'No； you are not；' and its politer materials； 'Yes； you are。'
'I am； in general；' said Mr Pancks； 'a dry； unfortable； dreary
Plodder and Grubber。 That's your humble servant。 There's his full…length
portrait； painted by himself and presented to you； warranted a likeness！
But what's a man to be； with such a man as this for his Proprietor？
What can be expected of him？ Did anybody ever find boiled mutton and
caper…sauce growing in a cocoa…nut？'
None of the Bleeding Hearts ever had； it was clear from the alacrity of
their response。
'Well；' said Mr Pancks； 'and neither will you find in Grubbers like
myself； under Proprietors like this； pleasant qualities。 I've been a
Grubber from a boy。 What has my life been？ Fag and grind； fag and grind；
turn the wheel； turn the wheel！ I haven't been agreeable to myself；
and I haven't been likely to be agreeable to anybody else。 If I was a
shilling a week less useful in ten years' time； this impostor would give
me a shilling a week less； if as useful a man could be got at sixpence
cheaper； he would be taken in my place at sixpence cheaper。 Bargain and
sale； bless you！ Fixed principles！ It's a mighty fine sign…post； is The
Casby's Head；' said Mr Pancks； surveying it with anything rather than
admiration； 'but the real name of the House is the Sham's Arms。 Its
motto is； Keep the Grubber always at it。 Is any gentleman present；' said
Mr Pancks； breaking off and looking round； 'acquainted with the English
Grammar？'
Bleeding Heart Yard was shy of claiming that acquaintance。
'It's no matter；' said Mr Pancks； 'I merely wish to remark that the task
this Proprietor has set me； has been never to leave off conjugating the
Imperative Mood Present Tense of the verb To keep always at it。 Keep
thou always at it。 Let him keep always at it。 Keep we or do we keep
always at it。 Keep ye or do ye or you keep always at it。 Let them keep
always at it。 Here is your benevolent Patriarch of a Casby； and there is
his golden rule。 He is unmonly improving to look at； and I am not
at all so。 He is as sweet as honey； and I am as dull as ditch…water。 He
provides the pitch； and I handle it； and it sticks to me。 Now；' said
Mr Pancks； closing upon his late Proprietor again； from whom he had
withdrawn a little for the better display of him to the Yard； 'as I am
not accustomed to speak in public； and as I have made a rather lengthy
speech； all circumstances considered； I shall bring my observations to a
close by requesting you to get out of this。'
The Last of the Patriarchs had been so seized by assault； and required
so much room to catch an idea in； an so much more room to turn it in；
that he had not a word to offer in reply。 He appeared to be meditating
some Patriarchal way out of his delicate position； when Mr Pancks； once
more suddenly applying the trigger to his hat； shot it off again with
his former dexterity。 On the preceding occasion； one or two of the
Bleeding Heart Yarders had obsequiously picked it up and handed it to
its owner； but Mr Pancks had now so far impressed his audience； that the
Patriarch had to turn and stoop for it himself。
Quick as lightning； Mr Pancks； who； for some moments； had had his right
hand in his coat pocket； whipped out a pair of shears； swooped upon the
Patriarch behind； and snipped off short the sacred locks that flowed
upon his shoulders。 In a paroxysm of animosity and rapidity； Mr Pancks
then caught the broad…brimmed hat out of the astounded Patriarch's hand；
cut it down into a mere stewpan； and fixed it on the Patriarch's head。
Before the frightful results of this desperate action； Mr Pancks himself
recoiled in consternation。 A bare…polled； goggle…eyed； big…headed
lumbering personage stood staring at him； not in the least impressive；
not in the least venerable； who seemed to have started out of the
earth to ask what was bee of Casby。 After staring at this phantom in
return； in silent awe； Mr Pancks threw down his shears； and fled for a
place of hiding； where he might lie sheltered from the consequences of
his crime。 Mr Pancks deemed it prudent to use all possible despatch in
making off； though he was pursued by nothing but the sound of laughter
in Bleeding Heart Yard； rippling through the air and making it ring
again。
CHAPTER 33。 Going！
The changes of a fevered room are slow and fluctuating； but the changes
of the fevered world are rapid and irrevocable。
It was Little Dorrit's lot to wait upon both kinds of change。 The
Marshalsea walls； during a portion of every day； again embraced her in
their shadows as their child； while she thought for Clennam； worked for
him； watched him； and only left him； still to devote her utmost love and
care to him。 Her part in the life outside the gate urged its pressing
claims upon her too； and her patience untiringly responded to them。
Here was Fanny； proud； fitful； whimsical； further advanced in that
disqualified state for going into society which had so much fretted
her on the evening of the tortoise…shell knife； resolved always to want
fort； resolved not to be forted； resolved to be deeply wronged；
and resolved that nobody should have the audacity to think her so。 Here
was her brother； a weak； proud； tipsy； young old man； shaking from
head to foot； talking as indistinctly as if some of the money he plumed
himself upon had got into his mouth and couldn't be got out； unable to
walk alone in any act of his life； and patronising the sister whom he
selfishly loved （he always had that negative merit； ill…starred and
ill…launched Tip！） because he suffered her to lead him。 Here was Mrs
Merdle in gauzy mourning……the original cap whereof had possibly been
rent to pieces in a fit of grief； but had certainly yielded to a highly
being article from the Parisian market……warring with Fanny foot to
foot； and breasting her with her desolate bosom every hour in the day。
Here was poor Mr Sparkler； not knowing how to keep the peace between
them； but humbly inclining to the opinion that they could do no better
than agree that they were both remarkably fine women； and that there was
no nonsense about either of them……for which gentle remendation they
united in falling upon him frightfully。 Then； too； here was Mrs General；
got home from foreign parts； sending a Prune and a Prism by post every
other day； demanding a new Testimonial by way of remendation to some
vacant appointment or other。 Of which remarkable gentlewoman it may be
finally observed； that there surely never was a gentlewoman of whose
transcendent fitness for any vacant appointment on the face of this
earth； so many people were （as the warmth of her Testimonials evinced）
so perfectly satisfied……or who was so very unfortunate in having a
large circle of ardent and distinguished admirers； who never themselves
happened to want her in any capacity。
On the first crash of the eminent Mr Merdle's decease； many important
persons had been unable to determine whether they should cut Mrs Merdle；
or fort her。 As it seemed； however； essential to the strength of
their own case that they should admit her to have been cruelly deceived；
they graciously made the admission； and continued to know her。 It
followed that Mrs Merdle； as a woman of fashion and good breeding who
had been sacrificed to the wiles of a vulgar barbarian （for Mr Merdle
was found out from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot； the
moment he was found out in his pocket）； must be actively championed by
her order for her order's sake。 She returned this fealty by causing it
to be understood that she was even more incensed against the felonious
shade of the deceased than anybody else was； thus； on the whole； she
came out of her furnace like a wise woman； and did exceedingly well。
Mr Sparkler's lordship was fortunately one of those shelves on which a
gentleman is considered to be put away for life； unless there should be
reasons for hoisting hi