It was a lank and hungry
individual, grimy of face and hands, his clothing such as in the
country would serve well for a scarecrow. Who could have recognised
in him the once spruce and spirited Mr. Jack Bartley, distinguished
by his chimney-pot hat at the Crystal Palace on Bob's wedding-day?
At the close of that same day, as you remember, he and Bob engaged
in terrific combat, the outcome of earlier rivalry for the favour of
Clem Peckover. Notwithstanding that memory, the two were now on very
friendly terms. You have heard from Clem's lips that Jack Bartley,
failing to win herself, ended by espousing Miss Susan Jollop; also
what was the result of that alliance. Mr. Bartley was an unhappy
man. His wife had a ferocious temper, was reckless with money, and
now drank steadily; the consequence was, that Jack had lost all
regular employment, and only earned occasional pence in the most
various ways. Broken in spirit, he himself first made advances to
his companion of former days, and Bob, flattered by the other's
humility, encouraged him as a hanger-on.--Really, we shall soon be
coming to a conclusion that the differences between the nether and
the upper world are purely superficial.
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