long as I can drink to you. Here’s to you, Uncle Sol, and Hurrah for the—"
"Lord Mayor,’ interrupted the old man.
"For the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Common Council, and Livery," said the boy. "Long life to 'em!"
The uncle nodded his head with great satisfaction. "And now," he said, "let’s hear something about the Firm."
"Oh! there’s not much to be told about the Firm, Uncle," said the boy, plying his knife and fork. "It’s a precious dark set of offices, and in the room where I sit, there’s a high fender, and an iron safe, and some cards about ships that are going to sail, and an almanack, and some desks and stools, and an inkbottle, and some books, and some boxes, and a lot of cobwebs, and in one of 'em, just over my head, a shrivelled-up blue-bottle that looks as if it had hung there ever so long."
"Nothing else?" said the Uncle.
"No, nothing else, except an old bird-cage (I wonder how that ever came there!) and a coal-scuttle."
"No bankers’ books, or cheque books, or bills, or such tokens of wealth rolling in from day to day?" said old Sol, looking wistfully at his nephew out of the fog that always seemed to hang about him, and laying an unctuous emphasis upon the words.
"Oh yes, plenty of that I suppose," returned his nephew carelessly; "but all that sort of thing’s in Mr. Carker’s room, or Mr. Morfin’s, or Mr. Dombey’s."
"Has Mr. Dombey been there to-day?" inquired the Uncle.
"Oh yes! In and out all day."
"He didn’t take any notice of you, I suppose?"
"Yes he did. He walked up to my seat,—I wish he wasn’t so solemn and stiff, Uncle,—and said, 'Oh! you are the son of Mr. Gills the Ships’ Instrument-maker.' 'Nephew, Sir,' I said. 'I said nephew, boy,' said he. But I could take my oath he said Son, uncle."
"You’re mistaken I daresay. It’s no matter."
"No, it’s no matter, but he needn’t have been so sharp, I thought. There was no harm in it though he did say son. Then he told me that you had spoken to him about me, and that he had found me employment in the House accordingly, and that I was expected to be attentive and punctual, and then he went away. I thought he didn’t seem to like me much."
"You mean, I suppose," observed the Instrument Maker, "that you didn’t seem to like him much?"
"Well, Uncle," returned the boy, laughing. "Perhaps so; I never thought of that."
Solomon looked a little graver as he finished his dinner, and glanced from time to time at the boy’s bright face. When dinner was done, and the cloth was cleared away (the entertainment had been brought from a neighbouring eating-house), he lighted a candle, and went down below into a little cellar, while his nephew, standing on the mouldy staircase, dutifully held the light. After a moment’s groping here and there, he presently returned with a very ancient-looking bottle, covered with dust and dirt.
"Why, Uncle Sol!" said the boy, "what are you about! that’s the wonderful Madeira!—there’s only one more bottle!"
