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fingers。
'His children；' said Trotty； and a mist rose before his eyes； 'his
daughters … Gentlemen may win their hearts and marry them； they may
be happy wives and mothers； they may be handsome like my darling M…
e…'。
He couldn't finish the name。 The final letter swelled in his
throat； to the size of the whole alphabet。
'Never mind；' thought Trotty。 'I know what I mean。 That's more
than enough for me。' And with this consolatory rumination； trotted
on。
It was a hard frost； that day。 The air was bracing； crisp； and
clear。 The wintry sun； though powerless for warmth； looked
brightly down upon the ice it was too weak to melt； and set a
radiant glory there。 At other times； Trotty might have learned a
poor man's lesson from the wintry sun； but； he was past that； now。
The Year was Old； that day。 The patient Year had lived through the
reproaches and misuses of its slanderers； and faithfully performed
its work。 Spring； summer； autumn； winter。 It had laboured through
the destined round； and now laid down its weary head to die。 Shut
out from hope； high impulse； active happiness； itself； but active
messenger of many joys to others； it made appeal in its decline to
have its toiling days and patient hours remembered； and to die in
peace。 Trotty might have read a poor man's allegory in the fading
year； but he was past that； now。
And only he？ Or has the like appeal been ever made； by seventy
years at once upon an English labourer's head； and made in vain！
The streets were full of motion； and the shops were decked out
gaily。 The New Year； like an Infant Heir to the whole world； was
waited for； with welcomes； presents； and rejoicings。 There were
books and toys for the New Year； glittering trinkets for the New
Year； dresses for the New Year； schemes of fortune for the New
Year； new inventions to beguile it。 Its life was parcelled out in
almanacks and pocket…books； the coming of its moons； and stars； and
tides； was known beforehand to the moment； all the workings of its
seasons in their days and nights； were calculated with as much
precision as Mr。 Filer could work sums in men and women。
The New Year； the New Year。 Everywhere the New Year！ The Old Year
was already looked upon as dead； and its effects were selling
cheap； like some drowned mariner's aboardship。 Its patterns were
Last Year's； and going at a sacrifice； before its breath was gone。
Its treasures were mere dirt； beside the riches of its unborn
successor！
Trotty had no portion； to his thinking； in the New Year or the Old。
'Put 'em down； Put 'em down！ Facts and Figures； Facts and Figures！
Good old Times； Good old Times！ Put 'em down； Put 'em down！' … his
trot went to that measure； and would fit itself to nothing else。
But； even that one； melancholy as it was； brought him； in due time；
to the end of his journey。 To the mansion of Sir Joseph Bowley；
Member of Parliament。
The door was opened by a Porter。 Such a Porter！ Not of Toby's
order。 Quite another thing。 His place was the ticket though； not
Toby's。
This Porter underwent some hard panting before he could speak；
having breathed himself by coming incautiously out of his chair；
without first taking time to think about it and compose his mind。
When he had found his voice … which it took him a long time to do；
for it was a long way off； and hidden under a load of meat … he
said in a fat whisper；
'Who's it from？'
Toby told him。
'You're to take it in； yourself；' said the Porter； pointing to a
room at the end of a long passage； opening from the hall。
'Everything goes straight in； on this day of the year。 You're not
a bit too soon； for the carriage is at the door now； and they have
only come to town for a couple of hours； a' purpose。'
Toby wiped his feet （which were quite dry already） with great care；
and took the way pointed out to him； observing as he went that it
was an awfully grand house； but hushed and covered up； as if the
family were in the country。 Knocking at the room…door； he was told
to enter from within； and doing so found himself in a spacious
library； where； at a table strewn with files and papers； were a
stately lady in a bonnet； and a not very stately gentleman in black
who wrote from her dictation； while another； and an older； and a
much statelier gentleman； whose hat and cane were on the table；
walked up and down； with one hand in his breast； and looked
complacently from time to time at his own picture … a full length；
a very full length … hanging over the fireplace。
'What is this？' said the last…named gentleman。 'Mr。 Fish； will you
have the goodness to attend？'
Mr。 Fish begged pardon； and taking the letter from Toby； handed it；
with great respect。
'From Alderman Cute； Sir Joseph。'
'Is this all？ Have you nothing else； Porter？' inquired Sir Joseph。
Toby replied in the negative。
'You have no bill or demand upon me … my name is Bowley； Sir Joseph
Bowley … of any kind from anybody； have you？' said Sir Joseph。 'If
you have； present it。 There is a cheque…book by the side of Mr。
Fish。 I allow nothing to be carried into the New Year。 Every
description of account is settled in this house at the close of the
old one。 So that if death was to … to … '
'To cut；' suggested Mr。 Fish。
'To sever； sir；' returned Sir Joseph； with great asperity； 'the
cord of existence … my affairs would be found； I hope； in a state
of preparation。'
'My dear Sir Joseph！' said the lady； who was greatly younger than
the gentleman。 'How shocking！'
'My lady Bowley；' returned Sir Joseph； floundering now and then； as
in the great depth of his observations； 'at this season of the year
we should think of … of … ourselves。 We should look into our … our
accounts。 We should feel that every return of so eventful a period
in human transactions； involves a matter of deep moment between a
man and his … and his banker。'
Sir Joseph delivered these words as if he felt the full morality of
what he was saying； and desired that even Trotty should have an
opportunity of being improved by such discourse。 Possibly he had
this end before him in still forbearing to break the seal of the
letter； and in telling Trotty to wait where he was； a minute。
'You were desiring Mr。 Fish to say； my lady … ' observed Sir
Joseph。
'Mr。 Fish has said that； I believe；' returned his lady； glancing at
the letter。 'But； upon my word； Sir Joseph； I don't think I can
let it go after all。 It is so very dear。'
'What is dear？' inquired Sir Joseph。
'That Charity； my love。 They only allow two votes for a
subscription of five pounds。 Really monstrous！'
'My lady Bowley；' returned Sir Joseph； 'you surprise me。 Is the
luxury of feeling in proportion to the number of votes； or is it；
to a rightly constituted mind； in proportion to the number of
applicants； and the wholesome state of mind to which their
canvassing reduces them？ Is there no excitement of the purest kind
in having two votes to dispose of among fifty people？'
'Not to me； I acknowledge；' replied the lady。 'It bores one。
Besides； one can't obl