Nicholas finds further Favour in the Eyes of thebrothers Cheeryble and Mr Timothy Linkinwater.

　　The brothers give a Banquet on a great AnnualOccasion. Nicholas, on returning Home from it,receives a mysterious and important Disclosurefrom the Lips of Mrs Nickleby.

　　The square in which the counting-house of the brothersCheeryble was situated, although it might not whollyrealise the very sanguine expectations which a strangerwould be disposed to form on hearing the fervent encomiumsbestowed upon it by Tim Linkinwater, was, nevertheless, asufficiently desirable nook in the heart of a busy town like London,and one which occupied a high place in the affectionateremembrances of several grave persons domiciled in theneighbourhood, whose recollections, however, dated from a muchmore recent period, and whose attachment to the spot was far lessabsorbing, than were the recollections and attachment of theenthusiastic Tim.

　　And let not those whose eyes have been accustomed to thearistocratic gravity of Grosvenor Square and Hanover Square, thedowager barrenness and frigidity of Fitzroy Square, or the gravelwalks and garden seats of the Squares of Russell and Euston,suppose that the affections of Tim Linkinwater, or the inferiorlovers of this particular locality, had been awakened and kept alive by any refreshing associations with leaves, however dingy, orgrass, however bare and thin. The city square has no enclosure,save the lamp-post in the middle: and no grass, but the weedswhich spring up round its base. It is a quiet, little-frequented,retired spot, favourable to melancholy and contemplation, andappointments of long-waiting; and up and down its every side theAppointed saunters idly by the hour together wakening the echoeswith the monotonous sound of his footsteps on the smooth wornstones, and counting, first the windows, and then the very bricksof the tall silent houses that hem him round about. In winter-time,the snow will linger there, long after it has melted from the busystreets and highways. The summer’s sun holds it in some respect,and while he darts his cheerful rays sparingly into the square,keeps his fiery heat and glare for noisier and less-imposingprecincts. It is so quiet, that you can almost hear the ticking ofyour own watch when you stop to cool in its refreshingatmosphere. There is a distant hum—of coaches, not of insects—but no other sound disturbs the stillness of the square. The ticketporter leans idly against the post at the corner: comfortably warm,but not hot, although the day is broiling. His white apron flapslanguidly in the air, his head gradually droops upon his breast, hetakes very long winks with both eyes at once; even he is unable towithstand the soporific influence of the place, and is graduallyfalling asleep. But now, he starts into full wakefulness, recoils astep or two, and gazes out before him with eager wildness in hiseye. Is it a job, or a boy at marbles? Does he see a ghost, or hear anorgan? No; sight more unwonted still—there is a butterfly in thesquare—a real, live butterfly! astray from flowers and sweets, andfluttering among the iron heads of the dusty area railings.

　　 But if there were not many matters immediately without thedoors of Cheeryble Brothers, to engage the attention or distractthe thoughts of the young clerk, there were not a few within, tointerest and amuse him. There was scarcely an object in the place,animate or inanimate, which did not partake in some degree of thescrupulous method and punctuality of Mr Timothy Linkinwater.

　　Punctual as the counting-house dial, which he maintained to bethe best time-keeper in London next after the clock of some old,hidden, unknown church hard by, (for Tim held the fabledgoodness of that at the Horse Guards to be a pleasant fiction,invented by jealous West-enders,) the old clerk performed theminutest actions of the day, and arranged the minutest articles inthe little room, in a precise and regular order, which could nothave been exceeded if it had actually been a real glass case, fittedwith the choicest curiosities. Paper, pens, ink, ruler, sealing-wax,wafers, pounce-box, string-box, fire-box, Tim’s hat, Tim’sscrupulously-folded gloves, Tim’s other coat—looking preciselylike a back view of himself as it hung against the wall—all hadtheir accustomed inches of space. Except the clock, there was notsuch an accurate and unimpeachable instrument in existence asthe little thermometer which hung behind the door. There was nota bird of such methodical and business-like habits in all the world,as the blind blackbird, who dreamed and dozed away his days in alarge snug cage, and had lost his voice, from old age, years beforeTim first bought him. There was not such an eventful story in thewhole range of anecdote, as Tim could tell concerning theacquisition of that very bird; how, compassionating his starvedand suffering condition, he had purchased him, with the view ofhumanely terminating his wretched life; how he determined to wait three days and see whether the bird revived; how, before halfthe time was out, the bird did revive; and how he went on revivingand picking up his appetite and good looks until he graduallybecame what—‘what you see him now, sir,’—Tim would say,glancing proudly at the cage. And with that, Tim would utter amelodious chirrup, and cry ‘Dick;’ and Dick, who, for any sign oflife he had previously given, might have been a wooden or stuffedrepresentation of a blackbird indifferently executed, would cometo the side of the cage in three small jumps, and, thrusting his billbetween the bars, turn his sightless head towards his old master—and at that moment it would be very difficult to determine whichof the two was the happier, the bird or Tim Linkinwater.

　　Nor was this all. Everything gave back, besides, some reflectionof the kindly spirit of the brothers. The warehousemen andporters were such sturdy, jolly fellows, that it was a treat to seethem. Among the shipping announcements and steam-packet list’swhich decorated the counting-house wall, were designs foralmshouses, statements of charities, and plans for new hospitals. Ablunderbuss and two swords hung above the chimney-piece, forthe terror of evil-doers, but the blunderbuss was rusty andshattered, and the swords were broken and edgeless. Elsewhere,their open display in such a condition would have realised a smile;but, there, it seemed as though even violent and offensive weaponspartook of the reigning influence, and became emblems of mercyand forbearance.

　　Such thoughts as these occurred to Nicholas very strongly, onthe morning when he first took possession of the vacant stool, andlooked about him, more freely and at ease, than he had beforeenjoyed an opportunity of doing. Perhaps they encouraged and stimulated him to exertion, for, during the next two weeks, all hisspare hours, late at night and early in the morning, wereincessantly devoted to acquiring the mysteries of book-keepingand some other forms of mercantile account. To these, he appliedhimself with such steadiness and perseverance that, although hebrought no greater amount of previous knowledge to the subjectthan certain dim recollections of two or three very long sumsentered into a ciphering-book at school, and relieved for parentalinspection by the effigy of a fat swan tastefully flourished by thewriting-master’s own hand, he found himself, at the end of afortnight, in a condition to report his proficiency to MrLinkinwater, and to claim his promise that he, Nicholas Nickleby,should now be allowed to assist him in his graver labours.

　　It was a sight to behold Tim Linkinwater slowly bring out amassive ledger and day-book, and, after turning them over andover, and affectionately dusting their backs and sides, open theleaves here and there, and cast his eyes, half mournfully, halfproudly, upon the fair and unblotted entries.

　　‘Four-and-forty year, next May!’ said Tim. ‘Many new ledgerssince then. Four-and-forty year!’

　　Tim closed the book again.

　　‘Come, come,’ said Nicholas, ‘I am all impatience to begin.’

　　Tim Linkinwater shook his head with an air of mild reproof. MrNickleby was not sufficiently impressed with the deep and awfulnature of his undertaking. Suppose there should be any mistake—any scratching out!

　　Young men are adventurous. It is extraordinary what they willrush upon, sometimes. Without even taking the precaution ofsitting himself down upon his stool, but standing leisurely at the desk, and with a smile upon his face—actually a smile—there wasno mistake about it; Mr Linkinwater often mentioned itafterwards—Nicholas dipped his pen into the inkstand before him,and plunged into the books of Cheeryble Brothers!

　　Tim Linkinwater turned pale, and tilting up his stool on the twolegs nearest Nicholas, looked over his shoulder in breathlessanxiety. Brother Charles and brother Ned entered the countinghouse together; but Tim Linkinwater, without looking round,impatiently waved his hand as a caution that profound silencemust be observed, and followed the nib of the inexperienced penwith strained and eager eyes.

　　The brothers looked on with smiling faces, but TimLinkinwater smiled not, nor moved for some minutes. At length,he drew a long slow breath, and still maintaining his position onthe tilted stool, glanced at brother Charles, secretly pointed withthe feather of his pen towards Nicholas, and nodded his head in agrave and resolute manner, plainly signifying ‘He’ll do.’

　　Brother Charles nodded again, and exchanged a laughing lookwith brother Ned; but, just then, Nicholas stopped to refer to someother page, and Tim Linkinwater, unable to contain hissatisfaction any longer, descended from his stool, and caught himrapturously by the hand.

　　‘He has done it!’ said Tim, looking round at his employers andshaking his head triumphantly. ‘His capital B’s and D’s are exactlylike mine; he dots all his small i’s and crosses every t as he writesit. There an’t such a young man as this in all London,’ said Tim,clapping Nicholas on the back; ‘not one. Don’t tell me! The citycan’t produce his equal. I challenge the city to do it!’

　　With this casting down of his gauntlet, Tim Linkinwater struck the desk such a blow with his clenched fist, that the old blackbirdtumbled off his perch with the start it gave him, and actuallyuttered a feeble croak, in the extremity of his astonishment.

　　‘Well said, Tim—well said, Tim Linkinwater!’ cried brotherCharles, scarcely less pleased than Tim himself, and clapping hishands gently as he spoke. ‘I knew our young friend would takegreat pains, and I was quite certain he would succeed, in no time.

　　Didn’t I say so, brother Ned?’

　　‘You did, my dear brother; certainly, my dear brother, you saidso, and you were quite right,’ replied Ned. ‘Quite right. TimLinkinwater is excited, but he is justly excited, properly excited.

　　Tim is a fine fellow. Tim Linkinwater, sir—you’re a fine fellow.’

　　‘Here’s a pleasant thing to think of!’ said Tim, wholly regardlessof this address to himself, and raising his spectacles from theledger to the brothers. ‘Here’s a pleasant thing. Do you suppose Ihaven’t often thought of what would become of these books when Iwas gone? Do you suppose I haven’t often thought that thingsmight go on irregular and untidy here, after I was taken away?

　　But now,’ said Tim, extending his forefinger towards Nicholas,‘now, when I’ve shown him a little more, I’m satisfied. Thebusiness will go on, when I’m dead, as well as it did when I wasalive—just the same—and I shall have the satisfaction of knowingthat there never were such books—never were such books! No,nor never will be such books—as the books of CheerybleBrothers.’

　　Having thus expressed his sentiments, Mr Linkinwater gavevent to a short laugh, indicative of defiance to the cities of Londonand Westminster, and, turning again to his desk, quietly carriedseventy-six from the last column he had added up, and went on with his work.

　　‘Tim Linkinwater, sir,’ said brother Charles; ‘give me yourhand, sir. This is your birthday. How dare you talk about anythingelse till you have been wished many happy returns of the day, TimLinkinwater? God bless you, Tim! God bless you!’

　　‘My dear brother,’ said the other, seizing Tim’s disengaged fist,‘Tim Linkinwater looks ten years younger than he did on his lastbirthday.’

　　‘Brother Ned, my dear boy,’ returned the other old fellow, ‘Ibelieve that Tim Linkinwater was born a hundred and fifty yearsold, and is gradually coming down to five-and-twenty; for he’syounger every birthday than he was the year before.’

　　‘So he is, brother Charles, so he is,’ replied brother Ned.

　　‘There’s not a doubt about it.’

　　‘Remember, Tim,’ said brother Charles, ‘that we dine at half-past five today instead of two o’clock; we always depart from ourusual custom on this anniversary, as you very well know, TimLinkinwater. Mr Nickleby, my dear sir, you will make one. TimLinkinwater, give me your snuff-box as a remembrance to brotherCharles and myself of an attached and faithful rascal, and takethat, in exchange, as a feeble mark of our respect and esteem, anddon’t open it until you go to bed, and never say another word uponthe subject, or I’ll kill the blackbird. A dog! He should have had agolden cage half-a-dozen years ago, if it would have made him orhis master a bit the happier. Now, brother Ned, my dear fellow,I’m ready. At half-past five, remember, Mr Nickleby! TimLinkinwater, sir, take care of Mr Nickleby at half-past five. Now,brother Ned.’

　　Chattering away thus, according to custom, to prevent the possibility of any thanks or acknowledgment being expressed onthe other side, the twins trotted off, arm-in-arm; having endowedTim Linkinwater with a costly gold snuff-box, enclosing a banknote worth more than its value ten times told.

　　At a quarter past five o’clock, punctual to the minute, arrived,according to annual usage, Tim Linkinwater’s sister; and a greatto-do there was, between Tim Linkinwater’s sister and the oldhousekeeper, respecting Tim Linkinwater’s sister’s cap, which hadbeen dispatched, per boy, from the house of the family where TimLinkinwater’s sister boarded, and had not yet come to hand:

　　notwithstanding that it had been packed up in a bandbox, and thebandbox in a handkerchief, and the handkerchief tied on to theboy’s arm; and notwithstanding, too, that the place of itsconsignment had been duly set forth, at full length, on the back ofan old letter, and the boy enjoined, under pain of divers horriblepenalties, the full extent of which the eye of man could not foresee,to deliver the same with all possible speed, and not to loiter by theway. Tim Linkinwater’s sister lamented; the housekeepercondoled; and both kept thrusting their heads out of the second-floor window to see if the boy was ‘coming’—which would havebeen highly satisfactory, and, upon the whole, tantamount to hisbeing come, as the distance to the corner was not quite fiveyards—when, all of a sudden, and when he was least expected, themessenger, carrying the bandbox with elaborate caution,appeared in an exactly opposite direction, puffing and panting forbreath, and flushed with recent exercise; as well he might be; forhe had taken the air, in the first instance, behind a hackney coachthat went to Camberwell, and had followed two Punchesafterwards and had seen the Stilts home to their own door. The cap was all safe, however—that was one comfort—and it was nouse scolding him—that was another; so the boy went upon his wayrejoicing, and Tim Linkinwater’s sister presented herself to thecompany below-stairs, just five minutes after the half-hour hadstruck by Tim Linkinwater’s own infallible clock.

　　The company consisted of the brothers Cheeryble, TimLinkinwater, a ruddy-faced white-headed friend of Tim’s (who wasa superannuated bank clerk), and Nicholas, who was presented toTim Linkinwater’s sister with much gravity and solemnity. Theparty being now completed, brother Ned rang for dinner, and,dinner being shortly afterwards announced, led TimLinkinwater’s sister into the next room, where it was set forth withgreat preparation. Then, brother Ned took the head of the table,and brother Charles the foot; and Tim Linkinwater’s sister sat onthe left hand of brother Ned, and Tim Linkinwater himself on hisright: and an ancient butler of apoplectic appearance, and withvery short legs, took up his position at the back of brother Ned’sarmchair, and, waving his right arm preparatory to taking off thecovers with a flourish, stood bolt upright and motionless.

　　‘For these and all other blessings, brother Charles,’ said Ned.

　　‘Lord, make us truly thankful, brother Ned,’ said Charles.

　　Whereupon the apoplectic butler whisked off the top of thesoup tureen, and shot, all at once, into a state of violent activity.

　　There was abundance of conversation, and little fear of its everflagging, for the good-humour of the glorious old twins dreweverybody out, and Tim Linkinwater’s sister went off into a longand circumstantial account of Tim Linkinwater’s infancy,immediately after the very first glass of champagne—taking careto premise that she was very much Tim’s junior, and had only become acquainted with the facts from their being preserved andhanded down in the family. This history concluded, brother Nedrelated how that, exactly thirty-five years ago, Tim Linkinwaterwas suspected to have received a love-letter, and how that vagueinformation had been brought to the counting-house of his havingbeen seen walking down Cheapside with an uncommonlyhandsome spinster; at which there was a roar of laughter, and TimLinkinwater being charged with blushing, and called upon toexplain, denied that the accusation was true; and further, thatthere would have been any harm in it if it had been; which lastposition occasioned the superannuated bank clerk to laughtremendously, and to declare that it was the very best thing he hadever heard in his life, and that Tim Linkinwater might say a greatmany things before he said anything which would beat that.

　　There was one little ceremony peculiar to the day, both thematter and manner of which made a very strong impression uponNicholas. The cloth having been removed and the decanters sentround for the first time, a profound silence succeeded, and in thecheerful faces of the brothers there appeared an expression, not ofabsolute melancholy, but of quiet thoughtfulness very unusual at afestive table. As Nicholas, struck by this sudden alteration, waswondering what it could portend, the brothers rose together, andthe one at the top of the table leaning forward towards the other,and speaking in a low voice as if he were addressing himindividually, said:

　　‘Brother Charles, my dear fellow, there is another associationconnected with this day which must never be forgotten, and nevercan be forgotten, by you and me. This day, which brought into theworld a most faithful and excellent and exemplary fellow, took from it the kindest and very best of parents, the very best ofparents to us both. I wish that she could have seen us in ourprosperity, and shared it, and had the happiness of knowing howdearly we loved her in it, as we did when we were two poor boys;but that was not to be. My dear brother—The Memory of ourMother.’

　　‘Good Lord!’ thought Nicholas, ‘and there are scores of peopleof their own station, knowing all this, and twenty thousand timesmore, who wouldn’t ask these men to dinner because they eat withtheir knives and never went to school!’

　　But there was no time to moralise, for the joviality againbecame very brisk, and the decanter of port being nearly out,brother Ned pulled the bell, which was instantly answered by theapoplectic butler.

　　‘David,’ said brother Ned.

　　‘Sir,’ replied the butler.

　　‘A magnum of the double-diamond, David, to drink the healthof Mr Linkinwater.’

　　Instantly, by a feat of dexterity, which was the admiration of allthe company, and had been, annually, for some years past, theapoplectic butler, bringing his left hand from behind the small ofhis back, produced the bottle with the corkscrew already inserted;uncorked it at a jerk; and placed the magnum and the cork beforehis master with the dignity of conscious cleverness.

　　‘Ha!’ said brother Ned, first examining the cork and afterwardsfilling his glass, while the old butler looked complacently andamiably on, as if it were all his own property, but the companywere quite welcome to ............