Charles Dickens

"That's a real flagstaff, you see," said Wemmick, "and on Sundays I

run up a real flag. Then look here. After I have crossed this

bridge, I hoist it up - so - and cut off the communication."

The bridge was a plank, and it crossed a chasm about four feet wide

and two deep. But it was very pleasant to see the pride with which

he hoisted it up and made it fast; smiling as he did so, with a

relish and not merely mechanically.

"At nine o'clock every night, Greenwich time," said Wemmick, "the

gun fires. There he is, you see! And when you hear him go, I think

you'll say he's a Stinger."

The piece of ordnance referred to, was mounted in a separate

fortress, constructed of lattice-work. It was protected from the

weather by an ingenious little tarpaulin contrivance in the nature

of an umbrella.

"Then, at the back," said Wemmick, "out of sight, so as not to

impede the idea of fortifications - for it's a principle with me,

if you have an idea, carry it out and keep it up - I don't know

whether that's your opinion--"

I said, decidedly.

" - At the back, there's a pig, and there are fowls and rabbits;

then, I knock together my own little frame, you see, and grow

cucumbers; and you'll judge at supper what sort of a salad I can

raise. So, sir," said Wemmick, smiling again, but seriously too, as

he shook his head, "if you can suppose the little place besieged,

it would hold out a devil of a time in point of provisions."

Then, he conducted me to a bower about a dozen yards off, but which

was approached by such ingenious twists of path that it took quite

a long time to get at; and in this retreat our glasses were already

set forth. Our punch was cooling in an ornamental lake, on whose

margin the bower was raised. This piece of water (with an island in

the middle which might have been the salad for supper) was of a

circular form, and he had constructed a fountain in it, which, when

you set a little mill going and took a cork out of a pipe, played

to that powerful extent that it made the back of your hand quite

wet.

"I am my own engineer, and my own carpenter, and my own plumber,

and my own gardener, and my own Jack of all Trades," said Wemmick,

in acknowledging my compliments. "Well; it's a good thing, you

know. It brushes the Newgate cobwebs away, and pleases the Aged.

You wouldn't mind being at once introduced to the Aged, would you?

It wouldn't put you out?"

I expressed the readiness I felt, and we went into the castle.

There, we found, sitting by a fire, a very old man in a flannel

coat: clean, cheerful, comfortable, and well cared for, but

intensely deaf.

"Well aged parent," said Wemmick, shaking hands with him in a

cordial and jocose way, "how am you?"

"All right, John; all right!" replied the old man.

"Here's Mr. Pip, aged parent," said Wemmick, "and I wish you could

hear his name. Nod away at him, Mr. Pip; that's what he likes. Nod

away at him, if you please, like winking!"

"This is a fine place of my son's, sir," cried the old man, while I

nodded as hard as I possibly could. "This is a pretty

pleasure-ground, sir. This spot and these beautiful works upon it

ought to be kept together by the Nation, after my son's time, for

the people's enjoyment."

"You're as proud of it as Punch; ain't you, Aged?" said Wemmick,

contemplating the old man, with his hard face really softened;

"there's a nod for you;" giving him a tremendous one; "there's

another for you;" giving him a still more tremendous one; "you like

that, don't you? If you're not tired, Mr. Pip - though I know it's

tiring to strangers - will you tip him one more? You can't think

how it pleases him."

I tipped him several more, and he was in great spirits. We left him

bestirring himself to feed the fowls, and we sat down to our punch

in the arbour; where Wemmick told me as he smoked a pipe that it

had taken him a good many years to bring the property up to its

present pitch of perfection.