and dreary to me who could see little of it inside, and who could
not go outside in my disabled state. Avoiding the Blue Boar, I put
up at an inn of minor reputation down the town, and ordered some
dinner. While it was preparing, I went to Satis House and in-
quired for Miss Havisham; she was still very ill, though considered
something better.

My inn had once been a part of an ancient ecclesiastical house,
and I dined in a little octagonal common-room, like a font. As I
was not able to cut my dinner, the old landlord with a shining bald
head did it for me. This bringing us into conversation, he was so
good as to entertain me with my own story--of course with the
popular feature that Pumblechook was my earliest benefactor and
the founder of my fortunes.

'Do you know the young man?' said I.

'Know him?' repeated the landlord. 'Ever since he was--no
height at all.'

'Does he ever come back to this neighbourhood?'

'Ay, he comes back,' said the landlord, 'to his great friends, now
and again, and gives the cold shoulder to the man that made him.'

'What man is that?'

'Him that I speak of,' said the landlord. ' Mr. Pumblechook.'

'Is he ungrateful to no one else?'

'No doubt he would be, if he could,' returned the landlord, 'but
he can't. And why? Because Pumblechook done everything for
him.'

'Does Pumblechook say so?'

'Say so!' replied the landlord. 'He han't no call to say so.'

'But does he say so?'

'It would turn a man's blood to white wine winegar, to hear him
tell of it, sir,' said the landlord.

I thought, 'Yet Joe, dear Joe, you never tell of it. Long-suffering
and loving Joe, you never complain. Nor you, sweet-tempered
Biddy!'

'Your appetite's been touched like, by your accident,' said the
landloard, glancing at the bandaged arm under my coat. 'Try a
tenderer bit.'

-408-