and advice from that gentleman, began to contemplate the possibility

of such a change being brought about in time. A good post was

procured for him, with a rapidity which took away his breath, by some

of the gentlemen who had believed him guilty of the offence laid to his

charge, and who had acted upon that belief. Through the same kind

agency, his mother was secured from want, and made quite happy.

Thus, as Kit often said, his great misfortune turned out to be the

source of all his subsequent prosperity.

Did Kit live a single man all his days, or did he marry? Of course he

married, and who should be his wife but Barbara? And the best of it

was, he married so soon that little Jacob was an uncle, before the

calves of his legs, already mentioned in this history, had ever been

encased in broadcloth pantaloons, - though that was not quite the

best either, for of necessity the baby was an uncle too. The delight of

Kit's mother and of Barbara's mother upon the great occasion is past

all telling; finding they agreed so well on that, and on all other

subjects, they took up their abode together, and were a most

harmonious pair of friends from that time forth. And hadn't Astley's

cause to bless itself for their all going together once a quarter - to the

pit - and didn't Kit's mother always say, when they painted the

outside, that Kit's last treat had helped to that, and wonder what the

manager would feel if he but knew it as they passed his house!

When Kit had children six and seven years old, there was a Barbara

among them, and a pretty Barbara she was. Nor was there wanting an

exact facsimile and copy of little Jacob, as he appeared in those

remote times when they taught him what oysters meant. Of course

there was an Abel, own godson to the Mr Garland of that name; and

there was a Dick, whom Mr Swiveller did especially favour. The little

group would often gather round him of a night and beg him to tell

again that story of good Miss Nell who died. This, Kit would do; and

when they cried to hear it, wishing it longer too, he would teach them

how she had gone to Heaven, as all good people did; and how, if they

were good, like her, they might hope to be there too, one day, and to

see and know her as he had done when he was quite a boy. Then, he

would relate to them how needy he used to be, and how she had

taught him what he was otherwise too poor to learn, and how the old

man had been used to say 'she always laughs at Kit;' at which they

would brush away their tears, and laugh themselves to think that she

had done so, and be again quite merry.

He sometimes took them to the street where she had lived; but new

improvements had altered it so much, it was not like the same. The

old house had been long ago pulled down, and a fine broad road was

in its place. At first he would draw with his stick a square upon the

ground to show them where it used to stand. But he soon became

The Old Curiosity Shop