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MasterHumphrey'sClock1MasterHumphrey'sClockbyCharlesDickensMasterHumphrey'sClock2CHAPTERIMASTERHUMPHREY,FROMHISCLOCK-SIDEINTHECHIMNEYCORNERTHEreadermustnotexpecttoknowwhereIlive.Atpresent,itistrue,myabodemaybeaquestionoflittleornoimporttoanybody;butifIshouldcarrymyreaderswithme,asIhopetodo,andthereshouldspringupbetweenthemandmefeelingsofhomelyaffectionandregardattachingsomethingofinteresttomatterseversoslightlyconnectedwithmyfortunesormyspeculations,evenmyplaceofresidencemightonedayhaveakindofcharmforthem.Bearingthispossiblecontingencyinmind,Iwishthemtounderstand,intheoutset,thattheymustneverexpecttoknowit.Iamnotachurlisholdman.FriendlessIcanneverbe,forallmankindaremykindred,andIamonilltermswithnoonememberofmygreatfamily.ButformanyyearsIhaveledalonely,solitarylife;-whatwoundIsoughttoheal,whatsorrowtoforget,originally,mattersnotnow;itissufficientthatretirementhasbecomeahabitwithme,andthatIamunwillingtobreakthespellwhichforsolongatimehassheditsquietinfluenceuponmyhomeandheart.IliveinavenerablesuburbofLondon,inanoldhousewhichinbygonedayswasafamousresortformerryroysterersandpeerlessladies,longsincedeparted.Itisasilent,shadyplace,withapavedcourtyardsofullofechoes,thatsometimesIamtemptedtobelievethatfaintresponsestothenoisesofoldtimeslingerthereyet,andthattheseghostsofsoundhauntmyfootstepsasIpaceitupanddown.Iamthemoreconfirmedinthisbelief,because,oflateyears,theechoesthatattendmywalkshavebeenlessloudandmarkedthantheywerewonttoMasterHumphrey'sClock3be;anditispleasantertoimagineinthemtherustlingofsilkbrocade,andthelightstepofsomelovelygirl,thantorecogniseintheiralterednotethefailingtreadofanoldman.Thosewholiketoreadofbrilliantroomsandgorgeousfurniturewouldderivebutlittlepleasurefromaminutedescriptionofmysimpledwelling.Itisdeartomeforthesamereasonthattheywouldholditinslightregard.Itsworm-eatendoors,andlowceilingscrossedbyclumsybeams;itswallsofwainscot,darkstairs,andgapingclosets;itssmallchambers,communicatingwitheachotherbywindingpassagesornarrowsteps;itsmanynooks,scarcelargerthanitscorner-cupboards;itsverydustanddulness,arealldeartome.Themothandspideraremyconstanttenants;forinmyhousetheonebasksinhislongsleep,andtheotherplieshisbusyloomsecureandundisturbed.Ihaveapleasureinthinkingonasummer'sdayhowmanybutterflieshavesprungforthefirsttimeintolightandsunshinefromsomedarkcorneroftheseoldwalls.WhenIfirstcametolivehere,whichwasmanyyearsago,theneighbourswerecurioustoknowwhoIwas,andwhenceIcame,andwhyIlivedsomuchalone.Astimewenton,andtheystillremainedunsatisfiedonthesepoints,Ibecamethecentreofapopularferment,extendingforhalfamileround,andinonedirectionforafullmile.Variousrumourswerecirculatedtomyprejudice.Iwasaspy,aninfidel,aconjurer,akidnapperofchildren,arefugee,apriest,amonster.MotherscaughtuptheirinfantsandranintotheirhousesasIpassed;meneyedmespitefully,andmutteredthreatsandcurses.Iwastheobjectofsuspicionanddistrust-ay,ofdownrighthatredtoo.ButwhenincourseoftimetheyfoundIdidnoharm,but,onthecontrary,inclinedtowardsthemdespitetheirunjustusage,theybegantorelent.Ifoundmyfootstepsnolongerdogged,astheyhadoftenbeenbefore,andobservedthatthewomenandchildrennolongerretreated,butwouldstandandgazeatmeasIpassedtheirdoors.Itookthisforagoodomen,andwaitedpatientlyforbettertimes.BydegreesIbegantomakefriendsamongthesehumblefolks;andthoughtheywereyetMasterHumphrey'sClock4shyofspeaking,wouldgivethem'goodday,'andsopasson.Inalittletime,thosewhomIhadthusaccostedwouldmakeapointofcomingtotheirdoorsandwindowsattheusualhour,andnodorcourtesytome;children,too,cametimidlywithinmyreach,andranawayquitescaredwhenIpattedtheirheadsandbadethembegoodatschool.Theselittlepeoplesoongrewmorefamiliar.Fromexchangingmerewordsofcoursewithmyolderneighbours,Igraduallybecametheirfriendandadviser,thedepositaryoftheircaresandsorrows,andsometimes,itmaybe,thereliever,inmysmallway,oftheirdistresses.AndnowIneverwalkabroadbutpleasantrecognitionsandsmilingfaceswaitonMasterHumphrey.Itwasawhimofmine,perhapsasawhettothecuriosityofmyneighbours,andakindofretaliationuponthemfortheirsuspicions-itwas,Isay,awhimofmine,whenIfirsttookupmyabodeinthisplace,toacknowledgenoothernamethanHumphrey.Withmydetractors,IwasUglyHumphrey.WhenIbegantoconvertthemintofriends,IwasMr.HumphreyandOldMr.Humphrey.AtlengthIsettleddownintoplainMasterHumphrey,whichwasunderstoodtobethetitlemostpleasanttomyear;andsocompletelyamatterofcoursehasitbecome,thatsometimeswhenIamtakingmymorningwalkinmylittlecourtyard,Ioverhearmybarber-whohasaprofoundrespectforme,andwouldnot,Iamsure,abridgemyhonoursfortheworld-holdingforthontheothersideofthewall,touchingthestateof'MasterHumphrey's'health,andcommunicatingtosomefriendthesubstanceoftheconversationthatheandMasterHumphreyhavehadtogetherinthecourseoftheshavingwhichhehasjustconcluded.ThatImaynotmakeacquaintancewithmyreadersunderfalsepretences,orgivethemcausetocomplainhereafterthatIhavewithheldanymatterwhichitwasessentialforthemtohavelearntatfirst,Iwishthemtoknow-andIsmilesorrowfullytothinkthatthetimehasbeenwhentheconfessionwouldhavegivenmepain-thatIamamisshapen,deformedoldman.Ihave