demonstration of great respect for Mrs.
Sparsit's oracular authority. "You couldn't
put it clearer, I am sure, ma'am."

As this was his usual hour for having a
little confidential chat with Mrs. Sparsit, and
as he had already caught her eye and seen
that she was going to ask him something,
he made a pretence of arranging the rulers,
inkstands, and so forth, while that lady went
on with her tea, glancing through the open
window down into the street.

"Has it been a busy day, Bitzer?" asked
Mrs. Sparsit.

"Not a very busy day, my lady. About
an average day." He now and then slided
into my lady, instead of ma'am, as an
involuntary acknowledgment of Mrs. Sparsit's
personal dignity and claims to reverence.

"The clerks," said Mrs. Sparsit, carefully
brushing an imperceptible crumb of bread and
butter from her left-hand mitten, "are trustworthy,
punctual, and industrious, of course?"

"Yes, ma'am, pretty fair, ma'am. With
the usual exception."

He held the respectable office of general
spy and informer in the establishment, for
which volunteer service he received a present
at Christmas, over and above his weekly
wage. He had grown into an extremely clear-
headed, cautious, prudent young man, who
was safe to rise in the world. His mind was
so exactly regulated, that he had no affections
or passions. All his proceedings were the
result of the nicest and coldest calculation;
and it was not without cause that Mrs. Sparsit
habitually observed of him, that he was a
young man of the steadiest principle she had
ever known. Having satisfied himself, on
his father's death, that his mother had a right
of settlement in Coketown, this excellent
young economist had asserted that right for
her with such a steadfast adherence to the
principle of the case, that she had been shut
up in the workhouse ever since. It must be
admitted that he allowed her half a pound of
tea a year, which was weak in him: first,
because all gifts have an inevitable tendency
to pauperise the recipient, and secondly,
because his only reasonable transaction in
that commodity would have been to buy it for
as little as he could possibly give, and sell it
for as much as he could possibly get; it having
been clearly ascertained by philosophers
that in this is comprised the whole duty of
man—not a part of man's duty, but the whole.

"Pretty fair, ma'am. With the usual
exception, ma'am," repeated Bitzer.

"Ah—h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, shaking her
head over her tea-cup, and taking a long gulp.

"Mr. Thomas, ma'am, I doubt Mr. Thomas
very much, ma'am, I don't like his ways at
all."

"Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit, in a very
impressive manner, "do you recollect my
having said anything to you respecting
names?"

"I beg your pardon, ma'am. It's quite true
that you did object to names being used, and
they're always best avoided."

"Please to remember that I have a charge
here," said Mrs. Sparsit, with her air of
state. "I hold a trust here, Bitzer, under
Mr. Bounderby. However improbable both
Mr. Bounderby and myself might have
deemed it years ago, that he would ever
become my patron, making me an annual
compliment, I cannot but regard him in that
light. From Mr. Bounderby I have received
every acknowledgment of my social station,
and every recognition of my family descent,
that I could possibly expect. More, far more.
Therefore, to my patron I will be scrupulously
true. And I do not consider, I will not consider,
I cannot consider," said Mrs. Sparsit,
with a most extensive stock on hand of honor
and morality, "that I should be scrupulously
true, if I allowed names to be mentioned
under this roof, that are unfortunately—most
unfortunately—no doubt of that—connected
with his."

Bitzer knuckled his forehead again, and
again begged pardon.

"No, Bitzer," continued Mrs. Sparsit,
"say an individual, and I will hear you;
say Mr. Thomas, and you must excuse me."

"With the usual exception, ma'am," said
Bitzer, trying back, "of an individual."

"Ah—h!" Mrs. Sparsit repeated the
ejaculation, the shake of the head over her
tea-cup, and the long gulp, as taking up the
conversation again at the point where it had
been interrupted.

"An individual, ma'am," said Bitzer, "has
never been what he ought to have been, since
he first came into the place. He is a
dissipated, extravagant idler. He is not worth
his salt, ma'am. He wouldn't get it either,
if he hadn't a friend and relation at court,
ma'am!"

"Ah—h!" said Mrs. Sparsit, with another
melancholy shake of her head.

"I only hope, ma'am," pursued Bitzer,
"that his friend and relation may not supply
him with the means of carrying on. Otherwise,
ma'am, we know out of whose pocket
that money comes."

"Ah—h!" sighed Mrs. Sparsit again, with
another melancholy shake of her head.

"He is to be pitied, ma'am. The last party
I have alluded to, is to be pitied, ma'am,"
said Bitzer.

"Yes, Bitzer," said Mrs. Sparsit. "I have
always pitied the delusion, always."

"As to an individual, ma'am," said Bitzer,
dropping his voice and drawing nearer, "he
is as improvident as any of the people in this
town. And you know what their improvidence
is, ma'am. No one could wish to know
it better than a lady of your eminence
does."

"They would do well," returned Mrs. Sparsit,
"to take example by you, Bitzer."

"Thank you, ma'am. But, since you do
refer to me, now look at me, ma'am. I have