"And why couldn't you say, like a man, you were going to Greenwich Fair when you went out? It's no use your saying that, Mr. Caudle: don't tell me that you didn't think of going; you'd made up your mind to it, and you know it. Pretty games you've had, no doubt! I should like to have been behind you, that's all. A man at your time of life!

"And I, of course, I never want to go out. Oh no! I may stay at home with the cat. You couldn't think of taking your wife and children, like any other decent man, to a fair. Oh no, you never care to be seen with us. I'm sure, many people don't know you're married at all: how can they? Your wife's never seen with you. Oh no; anybody but those belonging to you!

"Greenwich Fair, indeed! Yes,--and of course you went up and down the hill, running and racing with n.o.body knows who. Don't tell me; I know what you are when you're out. You don't suppose, Mr. Caudle, I've forgotten that pink bonnet, do you? No: I won't hold my tongue, and I'm not a foolish woman. It's no matter, sir, if the pink bonnet was fifty years ago--it's all the same for that. No: and if I live for fifty years to come, I never will leave off talking of it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Mr. Caudle. Ha! few wives would have been what I've been to you. I only wish my time was to come over again, that's all; I wouldn't be the fool I have been.

"Going to a fair! and I suppose you had your fortune told by the gipsies? You needn't have wasted your money. I'm sure I can tell you your fortune if you go on as you do. Yes, the gaol will be your fortune, Mr. Caudle. And it would be no matter--none at all--if your wife and children didn't suffer with you.

"And then you must go riding upon donkeys.

"YOU DIDN'T GO RIDING UPON DONKEYS?

"Yes; it's very well for you to say so: but I dare say you did. I tell you, Caudle, I know what you are when you're out. I wouldn't trust any of you--you especially, Caudle.

"Then you must go in the thick of the fair, and have the girls scratching your coat with rattles!

"YOU COULDN'T HELP IT, IF THEY DID SCRATCH YOUR COAT?

"Don't tell me; people don't scratch coats unless they're encouraged to do it. And you must go in a swing, too.

"YOU DIDN'T GO IN A SWING?

"Well, if you didn't it was no fault of yours; you wished to go I've no doubt.

"And then you must go into the shows? There,--you don't deny that.

You did go into a show.

"WHAT OF IT, MR. CAUDLE?

"A good deal of it, sir. Nice crowding and squeezing in those shows, I know. Pretty places! And you a married man and the father of a family. No: I won't hold my tongue. It's very well for you to threaten to get up. You're to go to Greenwich Fair, and race up and down the hill, and play at kiss in the ring. Pah! it's disgusting, Mr. Caudle. Oh, I dare say you DID play at it; if you didn't, you'd have liked, and that's just as bad;--and you can go into swings, and shows, and roundabouts. If I was you, I should hide my head under the clothes and be ashamed of myself.

"And what is most selfish--most mean of you, Caudle--you can go and enjoy yourself, and never so much as bring home for the poor children a gingerbread nut. Don't tell me that your pocket was picked of a pound of nuts! Nice company you must have been in to have your pocket picked.

"But I daresay I shall hear all about it to-morrow. I've no doubt, sir, you were dancing at the Crown and Anchor. I should like to have seen you. No: I'm not making myself ridiculous. It's you that's making yourself ridiculous; and everybody that knows you says so.

Everybody knows what I have to put up with from you.

"Going to a fair, indeed! At your time--"

"Here," says Caudle, "I dozed off hearing confusedly the words--hill- -gipsies--rattles--roundabouts--swings--pink bonnet--nuts."

LECTURE X--ON MR. CAUDLE'S SHIRT-b.u.t.tONS

"There, Mr. Caudle, I hope you're in a little better temper than you were this morning? There--you needn't begin to whistle: people don't come to bed to whistle. But it's like you. I can't speak, that you don't try to insult me. Once, I used to say you were the best creature living; now you get quite a fiend.

"DO LET YOU REST?

"No: I won't let you rest. It's the only time I have to talk to you, and you SHALL hear me. I'm put upon all day long: it's very hard if I can't speak a word at night: besides, it isn't often I open my mouth, goodness knows.

"Because ONCE in your lifetime your shirt wanted a b.u.t.ton you must almost swear the roof off the house!

"YOU DIDN'T SWEAR?

"Ha, Mr. Caudle! you don't know what you do when you're in a pa.s.sion.

"YOU WERE NOT IN A Pa.s.sION?

"Weren't you? Well, then, I don't know what a pa.s.sion is--and I think I ought by this time. I've lived long enough with you, Mr.

Caudle, to know that.

"It's a pity you haven't something worse to complain of than a b.u.t.ton off your shirt. If you'd SOME wives, you would, I know. I'm sure I'm never without a needle and thread in my hand. What with you and the children, I'm made a perfect slave of. And what's my thanks?

Why, if once in your life a b.u.t.ton's off your shirt--what do you cry 'OH' at?--I say once, Mr. Caudle; or twice, or three times, at most.

I'm sure Caudle, no man's b.u.t.tons in the world are better looked after than yours. I only wish I had kept the shirts you had when you were first married! I should like to know where were your b.u.t.tons then?

"Yes, it IS worth talking of! But that's how you always try to put me down. You fly into a rage, and then if I only try to speak you won't hear me. That's how you men always will have all the talk to yourselves: a poor woman isn't allowed to get a word in.

"A nice notion you have of a wife, to suppose she's nothing to think of but her husband's b.u.t.tons. A pretty notion, indeed, you have of marriage. Ha! if poor women only knew what they had to go through.

What with b.u.t.tons, and one thing and another! They'd never tie themselves up,--no, not to the best man in the world, I'm sure.

"WHAT WOULD THEY DO, MR. CAUDLE?

"Why, do much better without you, I'm certain.

"And it's my belief, after all, that the b.u.t.ton wasn't off the shirt; it's my belief that you pulled it off, that you might have something to talk about. Oh, you're aggravating enough, when you like, for anything! All I know is, it's very odd that the b.u.t.ton should be off the shirt; for I'm sure no woman's a greater slave to her husband's b.u.t.tons than I am. I only say, it's very odd.

"However, there's one comfort; it can't last long. I'm worn to death with your temper, and sha'n't trouble you a great while. Ha, you may laugh! And I dare say you would laugh! I've no doubt of it! That's your love--that's your feeling! I know that I'm sinking every day, though I say nothing about it. And when I'm gone, we shall see how your second wife will look after your b.u.t.tons. You'll find out the difference, then. Yes, Caudle, you'll think of me, then; for then, I hope, you'll never have a blessed b.u.t.ton to your back.

"No, I'm not a vindictive woman, Mr. Caudle; n.o.body ever called me that, but you. What do you say?

"n.o.bODY EVER KNEW SO MUCH OF ME?

"That's nothing at all to do with it. Ha! I wouldn't have your aggravating temper, Caudle, for mines of gold. It's a good thing I'm not as worrying as you are--or a nice house there'd be between us. I only wish you'd had a wife that WOULD have talked to you! Then you'd have known the difference. But you impose upon me, because, like a poor fool, I say nothing. I should be ashamed of myself, Caudle.

"And a pretty example you set as a father! You'll make your boys as bad as yourself. Talking as you did all breakfast time about your b.u.t.tons! And of a Sunday morning, too! And you call yourself a Christian! I should like to know what your boys will say of you when they grow up? And all about a paltry b.u.t.ton off one of your wristbands! A decent man wouldn't have mentioned it.

"WHY WON'T I HOLD MY TONGUE?

"Because I WON'T hold my tongue. I'm to have my peace of mind destroyed--I'm to be worried into my grave for a miserable shirt b.u.t.ton, and I'm to hold my tongue! Oh! but that's just like you men!

"But I know what I'll do for the future. Every b.u.t.ton you have may drop off, and I won't so much as put a thread to 'em. And I should like to know what you'll do then? Oh, you must get somebody else to sew 'em, must you? That's a pretty threat for a husband to hold out to a wife! And to such a wife as I've been, too: such a negro-slave to your b.u.t.tons, as I may say! Somebody else to sew 'em, eh? No, Caudle, no: not while I'm alive! When I'm dead--and with what I have to bear there's no knowing how soon that may be--when I'm dead, I say--oh! what a brute you must be to snore so!

"YOU'RE NOT SNORING?

"Ha! that's what you always say; but that's nothing to do with it.

You must get somebody else to sew 'em, must you? Ha! I shouldn't wonder. Oh no! I should be surprised at nothing, now! Nothing at all! It's what people have always told me it would come to,--and now the b.u.t.tons have opened my eyes! But the whole world shall know of your cruelty, Mr. Caudle. After the wife I've been to you. Somebody else, indeed, to sew your b.u.t.tons! I'm no longer to be mistress in my own house! Ha, Caudle! I wouldn't have upon my conscience what you have, for the world! I wouldn't treat anybody as you treat--no, I'm not mad! It's you, Mr. Caudle, who are mad, or bad--and that's worse! I can't even so much as speak of a shirt b.u.t.ton, but that I'm threatened to be made n.o.body of in my own house! Caudle, you've a heart like a hearth-stone, you have! To threaten me, and only because a b.u.t.ton--a b.u.t.ton--"