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In that quarter of London in which Golden Square is situated, there isa bygone, faded, tumble-down street, with two irregular rows of tallmeagre houses, which seem to have stared each other out of countenanceyears ago. The very chimneys appear to have grown dismal and melancholy,from having had nothing better to look at than the chimneys over theway. Their tops are battered, and broken, and blackened with smoke; and,here and there, some taller stack than the rest, inclining heavily toone side, and toppling over the roof, seems to meditate taking revengefor half a century's neglect, by crushing the inhabitants of the garretsbeneath.

The fowls who peck about the kennels, jerking their bodies hither andthither with a gait which none but town fowls are ever seen to adopt,and which any country cock or hen would be puzzled to understand, areperfectly in keeping with the crazy habitations of their owners. Dingy,ill-plumed, drowsy flutterers, sent, like many of the neighbouringchildren, to get a livelihood in the streets, they hop, from stone tostone, in forlorn search of some hidden eatable in the mud, and canscarcely raise a crow among them. The only one with anything approachingto a voice, is an aged bantam at the baker's; and even he is hoarse, inconsequence of bad living in his last place.

To judge from the size of the houses, they have been, at one time,tenanted by persons of better condition than their present occupants;but they are now let off, by the week, in floors or rooms, and everydoor has almost as many plates or bell-handles as there are apartmentswithin. The windows are, for the same reason, sufficiently diversifiedin appearance, being ornamented with every variety of common blind andcurtain that can easily be imagined; while every doorway is blocked up,and rendered nearly impassable, by a motley collection of children andporter pots of all sizes, from the baby in arms and the half-pint pot,to the full-grown girl and half-gallon can.

In the parlour of one of these houses, which was perhaps a thoughtdirtier than any of its neighbours; which exhibited more bell-handles,children, and porter pots, and caught in all its freshness the firstgust of the thick black smoke that poured forth, night and day, from alarge brewery hard by; hung a bill, announcing that there was yet oneroom to let within its walls, though on what story the vacant room couldbe--regard being had to the outward tokens of many lodgers which thewhole front displayed, from the mangle in the kitchen window to theflower-pots on the parapet--it would have been beyond the power of acalculating boy to discover.

The common stairs of this mansion were bare and carpetless; but acurious visitor who had to climb his way to the top, might have observedthat there were not wanting indications of the progressive povertyof the inmates, although their rooms were shut. Thus, the first-floorlodgers, being flush of furniture, kept an old mahogany table--realmahogany--on the landing-place outside, which was only taken in, whenoccasion required. On the second story, the spare furniture dwindleddown to a couple of old deal chairs, of which one, belonging to theback-room, was shorn of a leg, and bottomless. The story above,boasted no greater excess than a worm-eaten wash-tub; and the garretlanding-place displayed no costlier articles than two crippled pitchers,and some broken blacking-bottles.

It was on this garret landing-place that a hard-featured square-facedman, elderly and shabby, stopped to unlock the door of the front attic,into which, having surmounted the task of turning the rusty key in itsstill more rusty wards, he walked with the air of legal owner.

This person wore a wig of short, coarse, red hair, which he took offwith his hat, and hung upon a nail. Having adopted in its place a dirtycotton nightcap, and groped about in the dark till he found a remnant ofcandle, he knocked at the partition which divided the two garrets, andinquired, in a loud voice, whether Mr Noggs had a light.

The sounds that came back were stifled by the lath and plaster, and itseemed moreover as though the speaker had uttered them from the interiorof a mug or other drinking vessel; but they were in the voice of Newman,and conveyed a reply in the affirmative.

'A nasty night, Mr Noggs!' said the man in the nightcap, stepping in tolight his candle.

'Does it rain?' asked Newman.

'Does it?' replied the other pettishly. 'I am wet through.'

'It doesn't take much to wet you and me through, Mr Crowl,' said Newman,laying his hand upon the lappel of his threadbare coat.

'Well; and that makes it the more vexatious,' observed Mr Crowl, in thesame pettish tone.

Uttering a low querulous growl, the speaker, whose harsh countenance wasthe very epitome of selfishness, raked the scanty fire nearly out ofthe grate, and, emptying the glass which Noggs had pushed towards him,inquired where he kept his coals.

Newman Noggs pointed to the bottom of a cupboard, and Mr Crowl, seizingthe shovel, threw on half the stock: which Noggs very deliberately tookoff again, without saying a word.

'You have not turned saving, at this time of day, I hope?' said Crowl.

Newman pointed to the empty glass, as though it were a sufficientrefutation of the charge, and briefly said that he was going downstairsto supper.

'To the Kenwigses?' asked Crowl.

Newman nodded assent.

'Think of that now!' said Crowl. 'If I didn't--thinking that youwere certain not to go, because you said you wouldn't--tell Kenwigs Icouldn't come, and make up my mind to spend the evening with you!'

'I was obliged to go,' said Newman. 'They would have me.'

'Well; but what's to become of me?' urged the selfish man, who neverthought of anybody else. 'It's all your fault. I'll tell you what--I'llsit by your fire till you come back again.'

Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but, nothaving the courage to say no--a word which in all his life he never hadsaid at the right time, either to himself or anyone else--gave way tothe proposed arrangement. Mr Crowl immediately went about making himselfas comfortable, with Newman Nogg's means, as circumstances would admitof his being made.

The lodgers to whom Crowl had made allusion under the designation of'the Kenwigses,' were the wife and olive branches of one Mr Kenwigs, aturner in ivory, who was looked upon as a person of some considerationon the premises, inasmuch as he occupied the whole of the first floor,comprising a suite of two rooms. Mrs Kenwigs, too, was quite a lady inher manners, and of a very genteel family, having an uncle who collecteda water-rate; besides which distinction, the two eldest of her littlegirls went twice a week to a dancing school in the neighbourhood, andhad flaxen hair, tied with blue ribbons, hanging in luxuriant pigtailsdown their backs; and wore little white trousers with frills round theankles--for all of which reasons, and many more equally valid but toonumerous to mention, Mrs Kenwigs was considered a very desirable personto know, and was the constant theme of all the gossips in the street,and even three or four doors round the corner at both ends.

It was the anniversary of that happy day on which the Church of Englandas by law established, had bestowed Mrs Kenwigs upon Mr Kenwigs; and ingrateful commemoration of the same, Mrs Kenwigs had invited a few selectfriends to cards and a supper in the first floor, and had put on a newgown to receive them in: which gown, being of a flaming colour and madeupon a juvenile principle, was so successful that Mr Kenwigs said theeight years of matrimony and the five children seemed all a dream, andMrs Kenwigs younger and more blooming than on the very first Sunday hehad kept company with her.

Beautiful as Mrs Kenwigs looked when she was dressed though, and sostately that you would have supposed she had a cook and housemaidat least, and nothing to do but order them about, she had a worldof trouble with the preparations; more, indeed, than she, being of adelicate and genteel constitution, could have sustained, had not thepride of housewifery upheld her. At last, however, all the things thathad to be got together were got together, and all the things that had tobe got out of the way were got out of the way, and everything was ready,and the collector himself having promised to come, fortune smiled uponthe occasion.

The party was admirably selected. There were, first of all, Mr Kenwigsand Mrs Kenwigs, and four olive Kenwigses who sat up to supper; firstly,because it was but right that they should have a treat on such a day;and secondly, because their going to bed, in presence of the company,would have been inconvenient, not to say improper. Then, there was ayoung lady who had made Mrs Kenwigs's dress, and who--it was the mostconvenient thing in the world--living in the two-pair back, gave up herbed to the baby, and got a little girl to watch it. Then, to match thisyoung lady, was a young man, who had known Mr Kenwigs when he was abachelor, and was much esteemed by the ladies, as bearing the reputationof a rake. To these were added a newly-married couple, who had visitedMr and Mrs Kenwigs in their courtship; and a sister of Mrs Kenwigs's,who was quite a beauty; besides whom, there was another young man,supposed to entertain honourable designs upon the lady last mentioned;and Mr Noggs, who was a genteel person to ask, because he had been agentleman once. There were also an elderly lady from the back-parlour,and one more young lady, who, next to the collector, perhaps was thegreat lion of the party, being the daughter of a theatrical fireman, who'went on' in the pantomime, and had the greatest turn for the stage thatwas ever known, being able to sing and recite in a manner that broughtthe tears into Mrs Kenwigs's eyes. There was only one drawback uponthe pleasure of seeing such friends, and that was, that the lady inthe back-parlour, who was very fat, and turned of sixty, came in alow book-muslin dress and short kid gloves, which so exasperated MrsKenwigs, that that lady assured her visitors, in private, that if ithadn't happened that the supper was cooking at the back-parlour grateat that moment, she certainly would have requested its representative towithdraw.

'My dear,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'wouldn't it be better to begin a roundgame?'

'Kenwigs, my dear,' returned his wife, 'I am surprised at you. Would youbegin without my uncle?'

'I forgot the collector,' said Kenwigs; 'oh no, that would never do.'

'He's so particular,' said Mrs Kenwigs, turning to the other marriedlady, 'that if we began without him, I should be out of his will forever.'

'Dear!' cried the married lady.

'You've no idea what he is,' replied Mrs Kenwigs; 'and yet as good acreature as ever breathed.'

'The kindest-hearted man as ever was,' said Kenwigs.

'It goes to his heart, I believe, to be forced to cut the water off,when the people don't pay,' observed the bachelor friend, intending ajoke.

'George,' said Mr Kenwigs, solemnly, 'none of that, if you please.'

'It was only my joke,' said the friend, abashed.

'George,' rejoined Mr Kenwigs, 'a joke is a wery good thing--a werygood thing--but when that joke is made at the expense of Mrs Kenwigs'sfeelings, I set my face against it. A man in public life expects tobe sneered at--it is the fault of his elewated sitiwation, and not ofhimself. Mrs Kenwigs's relation is a public man, and that he knows,George, and that he can bear; but putting Mrs Kenwigs out of thequestion (if I COULD put Mrs Kenwigs out of the question on such anoccasion as this), I have the honour to be connected with the collectorby marriage; and I cannot allow these remarks in my--' Mr Kenwigs wasgoing to say 'house,' but he rounded the sentence with 'apartments'.

At the conclusion of these observations, which drew forth evidencesof acute feeling from Mrs Kenwigs, and had the intended effect ofimpressing the company with a deep sense of the collector's dignity, aring was heard at the bell.

'That's him,' whispered Mr Kenwigs, greatly excited. 'Morleena, my dear,run down and let your uncle in, and kiss him directly you get the dooropen. Hem! Let's be talking.'

Adopting Mr Kenwigs's suggestion, the company spoke very loudly, to lookeasy and unembarrassed; and almost as soon as they had begun to do so,a short old gentleman in drabs and gaiters, with a face that mighthave been carved out of LIGNUM VITAE, for anything that appeared to thecontrary, was led playfully in by Miss Morleena Kenwigs, regardingwhose uncommon Christian name it may be here remarked that it had beeninvented and composed by Mrs Kenwigs previous to her first lying-in, forthe special distinction of her eldest child, in case it should prove adaughter.

'Oh, uncle, I am SO glad to see you,' said Mrs Kenwigs, kissing thecollector affectionately on both cheeks. 'So glad!'

'Many happy returns of the day, my dear,' replied the collector,returning the compliment.

Now, this was an interesting thing. Here was a collector of water-rates,without his book, without his pen and ink, without his double knock,without his intimidation, kissing--actually kissing--an agreeablefemale, and leaving taxes, summonses, notices that he had called, orannouncements that he would never call again, for two quarters' due,wholly out of the question. It was pleasant to see how the companylooked on, quite absorbed in the sight, and to behold the nods andwinks with which they expressed their gratification at finding so muchhumanity in a tax-gatherer.

'Where will you sit, uncle?' said Mrs Kenwigs, in the full glow offamily pride, which the appearance of her distinguished relationoccasioned.

'Anywheres, my dear,' said the collector, 'I am not particular.'

Not particular! What a meek collector! If he had been an author, whoknew his place, he couldn't have been more humble.

'Mr Lillyvick,' said Kenwigs, addressing the collector, 'some friendshere, sir, are very anxious for the honour of--thank you--Mr and MrsCutler, Mr Lillyvick.'

'Proud to know you, sir,' said Mr Cutler; 'I've heerd of you veryoften.' These were not mere words of ceremony; for, Mr Cutler, havingkept house in Mr Lillyvick's parish, had heard of him very often indeed.His attention in calling had been quite extraordinary.

'George, you know, I think, Mr Lillyvick,' said Kenwigs; 'lady fromdownstairs--Mr Lillyvick. Mr Snewkes--Mr Lillyvick. Miss Green--MrLillyvick. Mr Lillyvick--Miss Petowker of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.Very glad to make two public characters acquainted! Mrs Kenwigs, mydear, will you sort the counters?'

Mrs Kenwigs, with the assistance of Newman Noggs, (who, as he performedsundry little acts of kindness for the children, at all times andseasons, was humoured in his request to be taken no notice of, and wasmerely spoken about, in a whisper, as the decayed gentleman), did as hewas desired; and the greater part of the guests sat down to speculation,while Newman himself, Mrs Kenwigs, and Miss Petowker of the TheatreRoyal Drury Lane, looked after the supper-table.

While the ladies were thus busying themselves, Mr Lillyvick was intentupon the game in progress, and as all should be fish that comes to awater-collector's net, the dear old gentleman was by no means scrupulousin appropriating to himself the property of his neighbours, which, onthe contrary, he abstracted whenever an opportunity presented itself,smiling good-humouredly all the while, and making so many condescendingspeeches to the owners, that they were delighted with his amiability,and thought in their hearts that he deserved to be Chancellor of theExchequer at least.

After a great deal of trouble, and the administration of many slaps onthe head to the infant Kenwigses, whereof two of the most rebelliouswere summarily banished, the cloth was laid with much elegance, and apair of boiled fowls, a large piece of pork, apple-pie, potatoes andgreens, were served; at sight of which, the worthy Mr Lillyvick vented agreat many witticisms, and plucked up amazingly: to the immense delightand satisfaction of the whole body of admirers.

Very well and very fast the supper went off; no more seriousdifficulties occurring, than those which arose from the incessant demandfor clean knives and forks; which made poor Mrs Kenwigs wish, morethan once, that private society adopted the principle of schools, andrequired that every guest should bring his own knife, fork, and spoon;which doubtless would be a great accommodation in many cases, and to noone more so than to the lady and gentleman of the house, especiallyif the school principle were carried out to the full extent, and thearticles were expected, as a matter of delicacy, not to be taken awayagain.

Everybody having eaten everything, the table was cleared in a mostalarming hurry, and with great noise; and the spirits, whereat the eyesof Newman Noggs glistened, being arranged in order, with water both hotand cold, the party composed themselves for conviviality; Mr Lillyvickbeing stationed in a large armchair by the fireside, and the four littleKenwigses disposed on a small form in front of the company with theirflaxen tails towards them, and their faces to the fire; an arrangementwhich was no sooner perfected, than Mrs Kenwigs was overpowered by thefeelings of a mother, and fell upon the left shoulder of Mr Kenwigsdissolved in tears.

'They are so beautiful!' said Mrs Kenwigs, sobbing.

'Oh, dear,' said all the ladies, 'so they are! it's very natural youshould feel proud of that; but don't give way, don't.'

'I can--not help it, and it don't signify,' sobbed Mrs Kenwigs; 'oh!they're too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!'

On hearing this alarming presentiment of their being doomed to an earlydeath in the flower of their infancy, all four little girls raiseda hideous cry, and burying their heads in their mother's lapsimultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails vibrated again;Mrs Kenwigs meanwhile clasping them alternately to her bosom, withattitudes expressive of distraction, which Miss Petowker herself mighthave copied.

At length, the anxious mother permitted herself to be soothed into amore tranquil state, and the little Kenwigses, being also composed, weredistributed among the company, to prevent the possibility of Mrs Kenwigsbeing again overcome by the blaze of their combined beauty. This done,the ladies and gentlemen united in prophesying that they would live formany, many years, and that there was no occasion at all for Mrs Kenwigsto distress herself; which, in good truth, there did not appear to be;the loveliness of the children by no means justifying her apprehensions.

'This day eight year,' said Mr Kenwigs after a pause. 'Dear me--ah!'

This reflection was echoed by all present, who said 'Ah!' first, and'dear me,' afterwards.

'I was younger then,' tittered Mrs Kenwigs.

'No,' said the collector.

'Certainly not,' added everybody.

'I remember my niece,' said Mr Lillyvick, surveying his audience witha grave air; 'I remember her, on that very afternoon, when she firstacknowledged to her mother a partiality for Kenwigs. "Mother," she says,"I love him."'

'"Adore him," I said, uncle,' interposed Mrs Kenwigs.

'"Love him," I think, my dear,' said the collector, firmly.

'Perhaps you are right, uncle,' replied Mrs Kenwigs, submissively. 'Ithought it was "adore."'

'"Love," my dear,' retorted Mr Lillyvick. '"Mother," she says, "I lovehim!" "What do I hear?" cries her mother; and instantly falls intostrong conwulsions.'

A general exclamation of astonishment burst from the company.

'Into strong conwulsions,' repeated Mr Lillyvick, regarding them with arigid look. 'Kenwigs will excuse my saying, in the presence of friends,that there was a very great objection to him, on the ground that he wasbeneath the family, and would disgrace it. You remember, Kenwigs?'

'Certainly,' replied that gentleman, in no way displeased at thereminiscence, inasmuch as it proved, beyond all doubt, what a highfamily Mrs Kenwigs came of.

'I shared in that feeling,' said Mr Lillyvick: 'perhaps it was natural;perhaps it wasn't.'

A gentle murmur seemed to say, that, in one of Mr Lillyvick's station,the objection was not only natural, but highly praiseworthy.

'I came round to him in time,' said Mr Lillyvick. 'After they weremarried, and there was no help for it, I was one of the first to saythat Kenwigs must be taken notice of. The family DID take notice of him,in consequence, and on my representation; and I am bound to say--andproud to say--that I have always found him a very honest, well-behaved,upright, respectable sort of man. Kenwigs, shake hands.'

'I am proud to do it, sir,' said Mr Kenwigs.

'So am I, Kenwigs,' rejoined Mr Lillyvick.

'A very happy life I have led with your niece, sir,' said Kenwigs.

'It would have been your own fault if you had not, sir,' remarked MrLillyvick.

'Morleena Kenwigs,' cried her mother, at this crisis, much affected,'kiss your dear uncle!'

The young lady did as she was requested, and the three other littlegirls were successively hoisted up to the collector's countenance, andsubjected to the same process, which was afterwards repeated on them bythe majority of those present.

'Oh dear, Mrs Kenwigs,' said Miss Petowker, 'while Mr Noggs is makingthat punch to drink happy returns in, do let Morleena go through thatfigure dance before Mr Lillyvick.'

'No, no, my dear,' replied Mrs Kenwigs, 'it will only worry my uncle.'

'It can't worry him, I am sure,' said Miss Petowker. 'You will be verymuch pleased, won't you, sir?'

'That I am sure I shall' replied the collector, glancing at thepunch-mixer.

'Well then, I'll tell you what,' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'Morleena shalldo the steps, if uncle can persuade Miss Petowker to recite us theBlood-Drinker's Burial, afterwards.'

There was a great clapping of hands and stamping of feet, at thisproposition; the subject whereof, gently inclined her head severaltimes, in acknowledgment of the reception.

'You know,' said Miss Petowker, reproachfully, 'that I dislike doinganything professional in private parties.'

'Oh, but not here!' said Mrs Kenwigs. 'We are all so very friendly andpleasant, that you might as well be going through it in your own room;besides, the occasion--'

'I can't resist that,' interrupted Miss Petowker; 'anything in my humblepower I shall be delighted to do.'

Mrs Kenwigs and Miss Petowker had arranged a small PROGRAMME of theentertainments between them, of which this was the prescribed order,but they had settled to have a little pressing on both sides, because itlooked more natural. The company being all ready, Miss Petowker hummeda tune, and Morleena danced a dance; having previously had the solesof her shoes chalked, with as much care as if she were going on thetight-rope. It was a very beautiful figure, comprising a great deal ofwork for the arms, and was received with unbounded applause.

'If I was blessed with a--a child--' said Miss Petowker, blushing, 'ofsuch genius as that, I would have her out at the Opera instantly.'

Mrs Kenwigs sighed, and looked at Mr Kenwigs, who shook his head, andobserved that he was doubtful about it.

'Kenwigs is afraid,' said Mrs K.

'What of?' inquired Miss Petowker, 'not of her failing?'

'Oh no,' replied Mrs Kenwigs, 'but if she grew up what she is now,--onlythink of the young dukes and marquises.'

'Very right,' said the collector.

'Still,' submitted Miss Petowker, 'if she took a proper pride inherself, you know--'

'There's a good deal in that,' observed Mrs Kenwigs, looking at herhusband.

'I only know--' faltered Miss Petowker,--'it may be no rule to besure--but I have never found any inconvenience or unpleasantness of thatsort.'

Mr Kenwigs, with becoming gallantry, said that settled the question atonce, and that he would take the subject into his serious consideration.This being resolved upon, Miss Petowker was entreated to begin theBlood-Drinker's Burial; to which end, that young lady let down her backhair, and taking up her position at the other end of the room, with thebachelor friend posted in a corner, to rush out at the cue 'in deathexpire,' and catch her in his arms when she died raving mad, wentthrough the performance with extraordinary spirit, and to the greatterror of the little Kenwigses, who were all but frightened into fits.

The ecstasies consequent upon the effort had not yet subsided, andNewman (who had not been thoroughly sober at so late an hour for a longlong time,) had not yet been able to put in a word of announcement,that the punch was ready, when a hasty knock was heard at the room-door,which elicited a shriek from Mrs Kenwigs, who immediately divined thatthe baby had fallen out of bed.

'Who is that?' demanded Mr Kenwigs, sharply.

'Don't be alarmed, it's only me,' said Crowl, looking in, in hisnightcap. 'The baby is very comfortable, for I peeped into the room asI came down, and it's fast asleep, and so is the girl; and I don't thinkthe candle will set fire to the bed-curtain, unless a draught was to getinto the room--it's Mr Noggs that's wanted.'

'Me!' cried Newman, much astonished.

'Why, it IS a queer hour, isn't it?' replied Crowl, who was not bestpleased at the prospect of losing his fire; 'and they are queer-lookingpeople, too, all covered with rain and mud. Shall I tell them to goaway?'

'No,' said Newman, rising. 'People? How many?'

'Two,' rejoined Crowl.

'Want me? By name?' asked Newman.

'By name,' replied Crowl. 'Mr Newman Noggs, as pat as need be.'

Newman reflected for a few seconds, and then hurried away, mutteringthat he would be back directly. He was as good as his word; for, in anexceedingly short time, he burst into the room, and seizing, withouta word of apology or explanation, a lighted candle and tumbler of hotpunch from the table, darted away like a madman.

'What the deuce is the matter with him?' exclaimed Crowl, throwing thedoor open. 'Hark! Is there any noise above?'

The guests rose in great confusion, and, looking in each other's faceswith much perplexity and some fear, stretched their necks forward, andlistened attentively.