Mugby Junction

C >> Charles Dickens >> Mugby Junction


"Shall I be believed when I tell you, that no sooner had I landed," this
word with a killing look at Sniff, "on that treacherous shore, than I was
ushered into a Refreshment Room where there were--I do not
exaggerate--actually eatable things to eat?"

A groan burst from the ladies. I not only did myself the honour of
jining, but also of lengthening it out.

"Where there were," Our Missis added, "not only eatable things to eat,
but also drinkable things to drink?"

A murmur, swelling almost into a scream, ariz. Miss Piff, trembling with
indignation, called out, "Name?"

"I _will_ name," said Our Missis. "There was roast fowls, hot and cold;
there was smoking roast veal surrounded with browned potatoes; there was
hot soup with (again I ask shall I be credited?) nothing bitter in it,
and no flour to choke off the consumer; there was a variety of cold
dishes set off with jelly; there was salad; there was--mark me! _fresh_
pastry, and that of a light construction; there was a luscious show of
fruit; there was bottles and decanters of sound small wine, of every
size, and adapted to every pocket; the same odious statement will apply
to brandy; and these were set out upon the counter so that all could help
themselves."

Our Missis's lips so quivered, that Mrs. Sniff, though scarcely less
convulsed than she were, got up and held the tumbler to them.

"This," proceeds Our Missis, "was my first unconstitutional experience.
Well would it have been if it had been my last and worst. But no. As I
proceeded farther into that enslaved and ignorant land, its aspect became
more hideous. I need not explain to this assembly the ingredients and
formation of the British Refreshment sangwich?"

Universal laughter,--except from Sniff, who, as sangwich-cutter, shook
his head in a state of the utmost dejection as he stood with it agin the
wall.

"Well!" said Our Missis, with dilated nostrils. "Take a fresh, crisp,
long, crusty penny loaf made of the whitest and best flour. Cut it
longwise through the middle. Insert a fair and nicely fitting slice of
ham. Tie a smart piece of ribbon round the middle of the whole to bind
it together. Add at one end a neat wrapper of clean white paper by which
to hold it. And the universal French Refreshment sangwich busts on your
disgusted vision."

A cry of "Shame!" from all--except Sniff, which rubbed his stomach with a
soothing hand.

"I need not," said Our Missis, "explain to this assembly the usual
formation and fitting of the British Refreshment Room?"

No, no, and laughter. Sniff agin shaking his head in low spirits agin
the wall.

"Well," said Our Missis, "what would you say to a general decoration of
everythink, to hangings (sometimes elegant), to easy velvet furniture, to
abundance of little tables, to abundance of little seats, to brisk bright
waiters, to great convenience, to a pervading cleanliness and
tastefulness positively addressing the public, and making the Beast
thinking itself worth the pains?"

Contemptuous fury on the part of all the ladies. Mrs. Sniff looking as
if she wanted somebody to hold her, and everbody else looking as if
they'd rayther not.

"Three times," said Our Missis, working herself into a truly
terrimenjious state,--"three times did I see these shameful things, only
between the coast and Paris, and not counting either: at Hazebroucke, at
Arras, at Amiens. But worse remains. Tell me, what would you call a
person who should propose in England that there should be kept, say at
our own model Mugby Junction, pretty baskets, each holding an assorted
cold lunch and dessert for one, each at a certain fixed price, and each
within a passenger's power to take away, to empty in the carriage at
perfect leisure, and to return at another station fifty or a hundred
miles farther on?"

There was disagreement what such a person should be called. Whether
revolutionise, atheist, Bright (_I_ said him), or Un-English. Miss Piff
screeched her shrill opinion last, in the words: "A malignant maniac!"

"I adopt," says Our Missis, "the brand set upon such a person by the
righteous indignation of my friend Miss Piff. A malignant maniac. Know,
then, that that malignant maniac has sprung from the congenial soil of
France, and that his malignant madness was in unchecked action on this
same part of my journey."

I noticed that Sniff was a-rubbing his hands, and that Mrs. Sniff had got
her eye upon him. But I did not take more particular notice, owing to
the excited state in which the young ladies was, and to feeling myself
called upon to keep it up with a howl.

"On my experience south of Paris," said Our Missis, in a deep tone, "I
will not expatiate. Too loathsome were the task! But fancy this. Fancy
a guard coming round, with the train at full speed, to inquire how many
for dinner. Fancy his telegraphing forward the number of dinners. Fancy
every one expected, and the table elegantly laid for the complete party.
Fancy a charming dinner, in a charming room, and the head-cook, concerned
for the honour of every dish, superintending in his clean white jacket
and cap. Fancy the Beast travelling six hundred miles on end, very fast,
and with great punctuality, yet being taught to expect all this to be
done for it!"

A spirited chorus of "The Beast!"

I noticed that Sniff was agin a-rubbing his stomach with a soothing hand,
and that he had drored up one leg. But agin I didn't take particular
notice, looking on myself as called upon to stimulate public feeling. It
being a lark besides.

"Putting everything together," said Our Missis, "French Refreshmenting
comes to this, and oh, it comes to a nice total! First: eatable things
to eat, and drinkable things to drink."

A groan from the young ladies, kep' up by me.

"Second: convenience, and even elegance."

Another groan from the young ladies, kep' up by me.

"Third: moderate charges."

This time a groan from me, kep' up by the young ladies.

"Fourth:--and here," says Our Missis, "I claim your angriest
sympathy,--attention, common civility, nay, even politeness!"

Me and the young ladies regularly raging mad all together.

"And I cannot in conclusion," says Our Missis, with her spitefullest
sneer, "give you a completer pictur of that despicable nation (after what
I have related), than assuring you that they wouldn't bear our
constitutional ways and noble independence at Mugby Junction, for a
single month, and that they would turn us to the right-about and put
another system in our places, as soon as look at us; perhaps sooner, for
I do not believe they have the good taste to care to look at us twice."

The swelling tumult was arrested in its rise. Sniff, bore away by his
servile disposition, had drored up his leg with a higher and a higher
relish, and was now discovered to be waving his corkscrew over his head.
It was at this moment that Mrs. Sniff, who had kep' her eye upon him like
the fabled obelisk, descended on her victim. Our Missis followed them
both out, and cries was heard in the sawdust department.

You come into the Down Refreshment Room, at the Junction, making believe
you don't know me, and I'll pint you out with my right thumb over my
shoulder which is Our Missis, and which is Miss Whiff, and which is Miss
Piff, and which is Mrs. Sniff. But you won't get a chance to see Sniff,
because he disappeared that night. Whether he perished, tore to pieces,
I cannot say; but his corkscrew alone remains, to bear witness to the
servility of his disposition.