me all about 'em; won't you, Mr. Pinch, and the butcher's dog down the street, and the terrier over the way, and the wheelwright's, and every one of 'em. When I first caught sight of the church to-night, I thought the steeple would have choked me, I did. One more! Won't you? Not a very little one to finish off with?"

"You have had plenty, I am sure," said the hostess. along with your foreign manners!”

"Go

"That ain't foreign, bless you!" cried Mark. "Native as oysters, that is! One more, because it's native; as a mark of respect for the land we live in! This don't count as between you and me, you understand," said Mr. Tapley. "I ain't a kissing you now, you'll observe. I have been among the patriots! I'm a kissin' my country!"

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This love-passage ends in the marriage of Mark to the fair widow, and the conversion of the Blue Dragon into Jolly Tapley. "A sign of my own invention," said Mark; wery new, conwivial, and expressive." v, vii, xiii-xv, xvii, xxi-xxiii, xxxiii-xxxv, xliii, xlviii, li-liii.

Tigg, Montague, alias TIGG MONTAGUE. A needy sharper, and a friend of Chevy Slyme's.

The gentleman was of that order of appearance which is currently termed shabby-genteel, though, in respect of his dress, he can hardly be said to have been in any extremities, as his fingers were a long way out of his gloves, and the soles of his feet were at an inconvenient distance from the upper-leather of his boots. His nether garments were of a bluish-gray, — violent in its colors once, but sobered now by age and dinginess, - and were so stretched and strained in a tough conflict between his braces and his straps, that they appeared every moment in danger of flying asunder at the knees. His coat, in color blue, and of a military cut, was buttoned and frogged up to his chin. His cravat was, in hue and pattern, like one of those mantles which hair-dressers are accustomed to wrap about their clients during the progress of the professional mysteries. His hat had arrived at such a pass, that it would have been hard to determine whether it was originally white or black. But he wore a mustache, -a shaggy mustache, too; nothing in the meek and merciful way, but quite in the fierce and scornful style, the regular satanic sort of thing; and he wore, besides, a vast quantity of unbrushed hair. He was very dirty and very jaunty, very bold and very mean, very swaggering and very slinking, very much like a man who might have been something better, and unspeakably like a man who deserved to be something worse.

At a later period, having come into the possession of a few pounds, he unites with David Crimple, a tapster who has saved a few pounds (see CRIMPLE, DAVID), and, reversing his name and making it Tigg Montague, Esquire, organizes a swindling concern called the Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Insurance Company, and, peculating on a grander scale than formerly, becomes a grander man altogether.

He had a world of jet black shining hair upon his head, upon his cheeks, upon his chin, upon his upper lip. His clothes, symmetrically made, were of the newest fashion and the costliest kind. Flowers of gold and blue, and green, and blushing red, were on his waistcoat; precious chains and jewels sparkled on his breast; his fingers, clogged with brilliant rings, were as unwieldy as summer flies but newly rescued from a honey-pot; the daylight mantled in his gleaming hat and boots as in a polished glass: and yet, though changed his name, and changed his outward surface, it was Tigg. Though turned and twisted upside down and inside out, as great men have been sometimes known to be; though no longer Montague Tigg, but Tigg Montague: still it was Tigg, — the same satanic, gallant, military Tigg. The brass was burnished, lacquered, newly stamped, yet it was the true Tigg metal notwithstanding.

Obtaining private information of Jonas Chuzzlewit's attempt to poison his father, Tigg makes use of his knowledge of the fact to compel him not only to invest largely in the stock of the AngloBengalee out of his own wealth, but to persuade his father-in-law, Mr. Pecksniff, to do so likewise. Jonas, finding his secret known and himself baffled, hunted, and beset, watches his opportunity, and murders Tigg; but his crime is discovered, and he is arrested, and put into a coach to be carried to prison, but poisons himself on the way. iv, vii, xii, xiii, xxii, xxviii, xxxviii, xl-xlii, xliv, xlvii. Todgers, Mrs. M. Keeper of a Commercial Boarding-house in London; a bony and hard-featured lady, with a row of curls in front of her head, shaped like little barrels of beer.

"Presiding over an establishment like this makes sad havoc with the features, my dear Miss Pecksniffs," said Mrs. Todgers. "The gravy alone is enough to add twenty years to one's age, I do assure you."

"Lor!" cried the two Miss Pecksniffs.

"The anxiety of that one item, my dears," said Mrs. Todgers, "keeps the mind continually upon the stretch. There is no such passion in human nature as the passion for gravy among commercial gentlemen. It's nothing to say a joint won't yield—a whole animal would n't yield-the amount of gravy they expect each

day at dinner; and what I have undergone, in consequence," cried Mrs. Todgers, raising her eyes, and shaking her head, no one would believe."

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Though not a handsome woman, Mrs. Todgers is a very kindhearted one; and when Mrs. Jonas Chuzzlewit (Mercy Pecksniff), heart-broken and destitute, applies to her for sympathy and assistance, she extends both ready hand and heart.

Commercial gentlemen and gravy had tried Mrs. Todgers's temper: the main chance - it was such a very small one, in her case, that she might have been excused for looking sharp after it, lest it should entirely vanish from her sight - had taken a firm hold on Mrs. Todgers's attention. But in some odd nook in Mrs. Todgers's breast, up a great many steps, and in a corner easy to be overlooked, there was a secret door, with "Woman" written on the spring, which, at a touch from Mercy's hand, had flown wide open, and admitted her for shelter.

When boarding-house accounts are balanced with all other ledgers, and the books of the Recording Angel are made up forever, perhaps there may be seen an entry to thy credit, lean Mrs. Todgers, which shall make thee beautiful. viii-xi, xxxii, xxxvii, xlvi, liv.

Toppit, Miss. A literary lady whom Mrs. Hominy introduces to the Honorable Elijah Pogram. xxxiv.

Westlock, John. A young man who has been a pupil of Pecksniff's, but has a difference with him, and leaves him. He is a warm friend of Tom Pinch's, whose sister Ruth he finally marries. ii, xii, xxv, xxix, xxxvi, xxxvii, xxxix, xl, xlv, xlviii, xlix, li-liii. Wolf, Mr. A friend and confederate of Montague Tigg's; introduced to Jonas Chuzzlewit as a literary character connected with a remarkably clever weekly paper. xxviii.

DOMBEY AND SON

OUTLINE

Chapter Paul Dombey was eight and forty years old when the hope I of his ten years of married life was realized in the birth of a son. A daughter, Florence, had been born six years before, but what was a daughter to the head of the firm of Dombey and Son? Even the death of his wife for Mrs. Dombey died in giving birth was chiefly important to him as it deprived his son of the natural source of nourishment. In consequence of the deprivation, Mrs. Toodle, under the name of Richards, became little Paul's nurse. She was selected, with much care, from among a great many applicants, by Mr. Dombey's sister, Mrs.

to little Paul

II

Chick, aided by her friend, Lucretia Tox. It was not long III before Richards found out the neglect that Florence was suffering from her father. In every way she could Richards tried to remedy the fault, but to no avail. Little Florence had no attraction for her father's eyes, so full were they of the future of the Son of the House.

Soon after little Paul's birth, young Walter Gay became a IV clerk in the house of Dombey and Son. His employment by that noted city firm was a great event to him and to his uncle, old Solomon Gills, maker of nautical instruments. They celebrated it duly with the aid of Captain Cuttle.

His face, remarkable for a brown solidity, brightened as he shook hands with uncle and nephew; but he seemed to be of a laconic disposition, and merely said, ·

"How goes it?"

“All well,” said Mr. Gills, pushing the bottle towards him. He took it up, and, having surveyed and smelt it, said with extraordinary expression:

"The?"

"The," returned the instrument-maker.

Upon that he whistled as he filled his glass, and seemed to think they were making holiday indeed.

"Wal'r!" he said, arranging his hair (which was thin) with his hook, and then pointing it at the instrument-maker, “look at

him! Love! Honor! And Obey! Overhaul your catechism till you find that passage, and when found turn the leaf down. Success, my boy !"

He was so perfectly satisfied both with his quotation and his reference to it, that he could not help repeating the words again in a low voice, and saying he had forgotten 'em these forty year.

"But I never wanted two or three words in my life that I did n't know where to lay my hand upon 'em, Gills," he observed. "It comes of not wasting language as some do."

The reflection, perhaps, reminded him that he had better, like young Norval's father, "increase his store." At any rate, he became silent.

There could be no doubt, however, that the two old men, at least, entertained the most Whittingtonian hopes as to the outcome of Walter's employment.

V

When little Paul was christened, Mr. Dombey, in his selfcentred way, made some acknowledgment of the kindnesses that had been done for little Paul. He gave Miss Tox a bracelet, - she had been assiduous in helping Mrs. Chick look after the motherless boy, - thereby setting her susceptible heart in a flutter. To Mrs. Richards he announced that he had procured a place for her oldest boy, Rob, in a charity school. The thought of Rob in the uniform of a charity grinder so wrought upon Mrs. VI Richards's motherly feelings that she determined to see him the next day. As it was against Mr. Dombey's rules for her to see any of her family while she was nursing Paul, she had to make her visit home as secret as possible. All would have gone well had not Florence, who, with her nurse, accompanied Mrs. Richards, been lost on the way back. Very luckily she was found and taken home by Walter Gay, — a circumstance which enhanced the Whittingtonian hopes of his uncle and Captain Cuttle. But the accident resulted in the discharge of Mrs. Richards.

Upon the departure of the warm-hearted Richards, Mrs. VII Chick and Miss Tox increased their watchfulness over the care of little Paul. Apparently Miss Tox had an end in view, for about this time Major Bagstock, - "Joey B., sir!"— who had lodgings in Princess's Place, where the susceptible Lucretia dwelt, began to find her growing neglectful of his neighborliness, and to suspect in consequence that her thoughts were centring elsewhere. 'Joey B., sir," the major would say, with a flourish of his walking-stick, "is worth a dozen of you! If you had a few more of the Bagstock breed among you, sir, you'd be none the worse for it. Old Joe, sir, need n't look far for a wife, even now, if he was on the lookout: but he's hard-hearted, sir, is Joe; he's tough,

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