Works of Charles Dickens - Charles Dickens [6544]
'I'll break the ice, my love,' said Mr. Budden, stirring up the sugar at the bottom of his glass of brandy-and-water, and casting a sidelong look at his spouse to see the effect of the announcement of his determination, 'by asking Minns down to dine with us, on Sunday.'
'Then pray, Budden, write to your cousin at once,' replied Mrs. Budden. 'Who knows, if we could only get him down here, but he might take a fancy to our Alexander, and leave him his property?-- Alick, my dear, take your legs off the rail of the chair!'
'Very true,' said Mr. Budden, musing, 'very true indeed, my love!' On the following morning, as Mr. Minns was sitting at his breakfast-table, alternately biting his dry toast and casting a look upon the columns of his morning paper, which he always read from the title to the printer's name, he heard a loud knock at the street-door; which was shortly afterwards followed by the entrance of his servant, who put into his hands a particularly small card, on which was engraven in immense letters, 'Mr. Octavius Budden, Amelia Cottage (Mrs. B.'s name was Amelia), Poplar-walk, Stamford- hill.'
'Budden!' ejaculated Minns, 'what can bring that vulgar man here!-- say I'm asleep--say I'm out, and shall never be home again-- anything to keep him down-stairs.'
'But please, sir, the gentleman's coming up,' replied the servant, and the fact was made evident, by an appalling creaking of boots on the staircase accompanied by a pattering noise; the cause of which, Minns could not, for the life of him, divine.
'Hem--show the gentleman in,' said the unfortunate bachelor. Exit servant, and enter Octavius preceded by a large white dog, dressed in a suit of fleecy hosiery, with pink eyes, large ears, and no perceptible tail.
The cause of the pattering on the stairs was but too plain. Mr. Augustus Minns staggered beneath the shock of the dog's appearance.
'My dear fellow, how are you?' said Budden, as he entered.
He always spoke at the top of his voice, and always said the same thing half-a-dozen times.
'How are you, my hearty?'
'How do you do, Mr. Budden?--pray take a chair!' politely stammered the discomfited Minns.
'Thank you--thank you--well--how are you, eh?'
'Uncommonly well, thank you,' said Minns, casting a diabolical look at the dog, who, with his hind legs on the floor, and his fore paws resting on the table, was dragging a bit of bread and butter out of a plate, preparatory to devouring it, with the buttered side next the carpet.
'Ah, you rogue!' said Budden to his dog; 'you see, Minns, he's like me, always at home, eh, my boy!--Egad, I'm precious hot and hungry! I've walked all the way from Stamford-hill this morning.'
'Have you breakfasted?' inquired Minns.
'Oh, no!--came to breakfast with you; so ring the bell, my dear fellow, will you? and let's have another cup and saucer, and the cold ham.--Make myself at home, you see!' continued Budden, dusting his boots with a table-napkin. 'Ha!--ha!--ha! -'pon my life, I'm hungry.'
Minns rang the bell, and tried to smile.
'I decidedly never was so hot in my life,' continued Octavius, wiping his forehead; 'well, but how are you, Minns? 'Pon my soul, you wear capitally!'
'D'ye