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hair that curled about his swarthy temples rarely； and a smile … a smile that
bore out Meg's eulogium on his style of conversation。
'See how he leaves it cooling on the step！' said Richard。 'Meg don't
know what he likes。 Not she！'
Trotty； all action and enthusiasm； immediately reached up his hand to
Richard； and was going to address him in great hurry； when the house…
door opened without any warning； and a footman very nearly put his foot
into the tripe。
'Out of the ways here； will you！ You must always go and be a… settin
on our steps； must you！ You can't go and give a turn to none of the
neighbours never； can't you！ WILL you clear the road； or won't you？'
Strictly speaking； the last question was irrelevant； as they had already
done it。
'What's the matter； what's the matter！' said the gentleman for whom the
door was opened； coming out of the house at that kind of light… heavy pace
… that peculiar compromise between a walk and a jog…trot … with which a
gentleman upon the smooth down…hill of life； wearing creaking boots； a
watch…chain； and clean linen； MAY come out of his house： not only
without any abatement of his dignity； but with an expression of having
important and wealthy engagements elsewhere。 'What's the matter！
What's the matter！'
'You're always a…being begged； and prayed； upon your bended knees
you are；' said the footman with great emphasis to Trotty Veck； 'to let our
door…steps be。 Why don't you let 'em be？ CAN'T you let 'em be？'
'There！ That'll do； that'll do！' said the gentleman。 'Halloa there！
Porter！' beckoning with his head to Trotty Veck。 'Come here。 What's
that？ Your dinner？'
'Yes； sir；' said Trotty； leaving it behind him in a corner。
'Don't leave it there；' exclaimed the gentleman。 'Bring it here； bring it
here。 So！ This is your dinner； is it？'
'Yes； sir；' repeated Trotty； looking with a fixed eye and a watery mouth；
at the piece of tripe he had reserved for a last delicious tit…bit； which the
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gentleman was now turning over and over on the end of the fork。
Two other gentlemen had come out with him。 One was a low…spirited
gentleman of middle age； of a meagre habit； and a disconsolate face； who
kept his hands continually in the pockets of his scanty pepper…and…salt
trousers； very large and dog's…eared from that custom； and was not
particularly well brushed or washed。 The other； a full…sized； sleek； well…
conditioned gentleman； in a blue coat with bright buttons； and a white
cravat。 This gentleman had a very red face； as if an undue proportion of
the blood in his body were squeezed up into his head； which perhaps
accounted for his having also the appearance of being rather cold about the
heart。
He who had Toby's meat upon the fork； called to the first one by the
name of Filer； and they both drew near together。 Mr。 Filer being
exceedingly short…sighted； was obliged to go so close to the remnant of
Toby's dinner before he could make out what it was； that Toby's heart
leaped up into his mouth。 But Mr。 Filer didn't eat it。
'This is a description of animal food； Alderman；' said Filer； making
little punches in it with a pencil…case； 'commonly known to the labouring
population of this country； by the name of tripe。'
The Alderman laughed； and winked； for he was a merry fellow；
Alderman Cute。 Oh； and a sly fellow too！ A knowing fellow。 Up to
everything。 Not to be imposed upon。 Deep in the people's hearts！ He
knew them； Cute did。 I believe you！
'But who eats tripe？' said Mr。 Filer； looking round。 'Tripe is without
an exception the least economical； and the most wasteful article of
consumption that the markets of this country can by possibility produce。
The loss upon a pound of tripe has been found to be； in the boiling； seven…
eights of a fifth more than the loss upon a pound of any other animal
substance whatever。 Tripe is more expensive； properly understood； than
the hothouse pine…apple。 Taking into account the number of animals
slaughtered yearly within the bills of mortality alone； and forming a low
estimate of the quantity of tripe which the carcases of those animals；
reasonably well butchered； would yield； I find that the waste on that
amount of tripe； if boiled； would victual a garrison of five hundred men
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for five months of thirty…one days each； and a February over。 The Waste；
the Waste！'
Trotty stood aghast； and his legs shook under him。 He seemed to
have starved a garrison of five hundred men with his own hand。
'Who eats tripe？' said Mr。 Filer； warmly。 'Who eats tripe？'
Trotty made a miserable bow。
'You do； do you？' said Mr。 Filer。 'Then I'll tell you something。 You
snatch your tripe； my friend； out of the mouths of widows and orphans。'
'I hope not； sir；' said Trotty； faintly。 'I'd sooner die of want！'
'Divide the amount of tripe before…mentioned； Alderman；' said Mr。
Filer； 'by the estimated number of existing widows and orphans； and the
result will be one pennyweight of tripe to each。 Not a grain is left for
that man。 Consequently； he's a robber。'
Trotty was so shocked； that it gave him no concern to see the
Alderman finish the tripe himself。 It was a relief to get rid of it； anyhow。
'And what do you say？' asked the Alderman； jocosely； of the red… faced
gentleman in the blue coat。 'You have heard friend Filer。 What do YOU
SAY？'
'What's it possible to say？' returned the gentleman。 'What IS to be
said？ Who can take any interest in a fellow like this；' meaning Trotty； 'in
such degenerate times as these？ Look at him。 What an object！ The
good old times； the grand old times； the great old times！ THOSE were
the times for a bold peasantry； and all that sort of thing。 Those were the
times for every sort of thing； in fact。 There's nothing now…a…days。 Ah！'
sighed the red…faced gentleman。 'The good old times； the good old
times！'
The gentleman didn't specify what particular times he alluded to； nor
did he say whether he objected to the present times； from a disinterested
consciousness that they had done nothing very remarkable in producing
himself。
'The good old times； the good old times；' repeated the gentleman。
'What times they were！ They were the only times。 It's of no use talking
about any other times； or discussing what the people are in THESE times。
You don't call these times； do you？ I don't。 Look into Strutt's Costumes；
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and see what a Porter used to be； in any of the good old English reigns。'
'He hadn't； in his very best circumstances； a shirt to his back； or a
stocking to his foot； and there was scarcely a vegetable in all England for
him to put into his mouth；' said Mr。 Filer。 'I can prove it； by tables。'
But still the red…faced gentleman extolled the good old times； the
grand old times； the great old times。 No matter what anybody else said；
he still went turning round and round in one set form of words concerning
them； as a poor squirrel turns and turns in its revolving cage； touching the
mechanism； and trick of which； it has probably quite as distinct
perceptions； as ever this red…faced gentleman had of his deceased
Millennium。
It is possible that poor Trotty's faith in these very