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the great Cross on the summit of St。 Paul’s Cathedral； glittering
above a red and violet…tinted cloud of smoke。 From the boy’s face
one might suppose that sacred emblem to be； in his eyes； the
crowning confusion of the great； confused city； so golden； so high
up； so far out of his reach。 There he sits； the sun going down； the
river running fast； the crowd flowing by him in two streams—
everything moving on to some purpose and to one end—until he is
stirred up； and told to “move on” too。
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Chapter 20
A New Lodger
he long vacation saunters on towards term…time； like an
idle river very leisurely strolling down a flat country to the
T
sea。 Mr Guppy saunters along with it congenially。 He has
blunted the blade of his penknife； and broken the point off； by
sticking that instrument into his desk in every direction。 Not that
he bears the desk any ill will； but he must do something； and it
must be something of an exciting nature； which will lay neither his
physical nor his intellectual energies under too heavy
contribution。 He finds that nothing agrees with him so well； as to
make little gyrations on one leg of his stool； and stab his desk； and
gape。
Kenge and Carboy are out of town； and the articled clerk has
taken out a shooting license； and gone down to his father’s； and Mr
Guppy’s two fellow stipendiaries are away on leave。 Mr Guppy；
and Mr Richard Carstone； divide the dignity of the office。 But Mr
Carstone is for the time being established in Kenge’s room；
whereat Mr Guppy chafes。 So exceedingly； that he with bitter
sarcasm informs his mother； in the confidential moments when he
sups with her off a lobster and lettuce； in the Old Street Road； that
he is afraid the office is hardly good enough for swells； and that if
he had known there was a swell coming； he would have got it
painted。
Mr Guppy suspects everybody who enters on the occupation of
a stool in Kenge and Carboy’s office； of entertaining； as a matter of
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course； sinister designs upon him。 He is clear that every such
person wants to depose him。 If he be ever asked how； why； when；
or wherefore； he shuts up one eye and shakes his head。 On the
strength of these profound views； he in the most ingenious
manner takes infinite pains to counterplot； when there is no plot；
and plays the deepest games of chess without any adversary。
It is a source of much gratification to Mr Guppy； therefore； to
find the newcomer constantly poring over the papers in Jarndyce
and Jarndyce； for he well knows that nothing but confusion and
failure can come of that。 His satisfaction communicates itself to a
third saunterer through the long vacation in Kenge and Carboy’s
office； to wit； Young Smallweed。
Whether Young Smallweed （metaphorically called Small and
eke Chick Weed； as it were jocularly to express a fledgling；） was
ever a boy； is much doubted in Lincoln’s Inn。 He is now something
under fifteen； and an old limb of the law。 He is facetiously
understood to entertain a passion for a lady at a cigar shop； in the
neighbourhood of Chancery Lane； and for her sake to have broken
off a contract with another lady； to whom he had been engaged
some years。 He is a town…made article； of small statute and weazen
features； but may be perceived from a considerable distance by
means of his very tall hat。 To become a Guppy is the object of his
ambition。 He dresses at that gentleman （by whom he is
patronised）； talks at him； walks at him； founds himself entirely on
him。 He is honoured with Mr Guppy’s particular confidence； and
occasionally advises him； from the deep wells of his experience； on
difficult points in private life。
Mr Guppy has been lolling out of window all the morning； after
trying all the stools in succession and finding more of them easy；
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and after several times putting his head into the iron safe with a
notion of cooling it。 Mr Smallweed has been twice despatched for
effervescent drinks； and has twice mixed them in the two official
tumblers and stirred them up with the ruler。 Mr Guppy
propounds； for Mr Smallweed’s consideration； the paradox that
the more you drink the thirstier you are； and reclines his head
upon the window…sill in a state of hopeless languor。
While thus looking out into the shade of Old Square； Lincoln’s
Inn； surveying the intolerable bricks and mortar； Mr Guppy
becomes conscious of a manly whisker emerging from the
cloistered walk below； and turning itself up in the direction of his
face。 At the same time； a low whistle is wafted through the Inn；
and a suppressed voice cries； “Hip！ Gup…py！”
“Why； you don’t mean it？” says Mr Guppy； aroused。 “Small！
Here’s Jobling！” Small’s head looks out of window too； and nods to
Jobling。
“Where have you sprung up from？” inquires Mr Guppy。
“From the market…gardens down by Deptford。 I can’t stand it
any longer。 I must enlist。 I say！ I wish you’d lend me half…a…crown。
Upon my soul I’m hungry。”
Jobling looks hungry； and also has the appearance of having
run to seed in the market…gardens down by Deptford。
“I say！ Just throw out half…a…crown； if you have got one to spare。
I want to get some dinner。”
“Will you come and dine with me？” says Mr Guppy； throwing
out the coin； which Mr Jobling catches neatly。
“How long should I have to hold out？” says Jobling。
“Not half an hour。 I am only waiting here till the enemy goes；”
returns Mr Guppy； butting inward with his head。
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“What enemy？”
“A new one。 Going to be articled。 Will you wait？”
“Can you give a fellow anything to read in the meantime？” says
Mr Jobling。
Smallweed suggests the Law List。 But Mr Jobling declares；
with much earnestness； that he “can’t stand it。”
“You shall have the paper；” says Mr Guppy。 “He shall bring it
down。 But you had better not be seen about here。 Sit on our
staircase and read。 It’s a quiet place。”
Jobling nods intelligence and acquiescence。 The sagacious
Smallweed supplies him with the newspaper； and occasionally
drops his eye upon him from the landing as a precaution against
his becoming disgusted with waiting； and makes an untimely
departure。 At last the enemy retreats； and then Smallweed