Sketches by Boz - Penn State University

Sketches by Bozvation; and, after conversing with him a little, weresomewhat struck (as we dare say our readers have frequentlybeen in other cases) with the power some menseem to have, not only of sympathising with, but to allappearance of understanding feelings to which theythemselves are entire strangers. We had been expressingto the new functionary our surprise that he shouldever have served in the capacity to which we have justadverted, when we gradually led him into one or twoprofessional anecdotes. As we are induced to think, onreflection, that they will tell better in nearly his ownwords, than with any attempted embellishments of ours,we will at once entitle them.MR BUNG’S NARRATIVE‘IT’S VERY TRUE, as you say, sir,’ Mr. Bung commenced,‘that a broker’s man’s is not a life to be envied; and incourse you know as well as I do, though you don’t sayit, that people hate and scout ‘em because they’re theministers of wretchedness, like, to poor people. But whatcould I do, sir? The thing was no worse because I did it,instead of somebody else; and if putting me in possessionof a house would put me in possession of three andsixpence a day, and levying a distress on another man’sgoods would relieve my distress and that of my family,it can’t be expected but what I’d take the job and gothrough with it. I never liked it, God knows; I alwayslooked out for something else, and the moment I gotother work to do, I left it. If there is anything wrong inbeing the agent in such matters—not the principal, mindyou—I’m sure the business, to a beginner like I was, atall events, carries its own punishment along with it. Iwished again and again that the people would only blowme up, or pitch into me—that I wouldn’t have minded,it’s all in my way; but it’s the being shut up by yourselfin one room for five days, without so much as an oldnewspaper to look at, or anything to see out o’ thewinder but the roofs and chimneys at the back of thehouse, or anything to listen to, but the ticking, perhaps,of an old Dutch clock, the sobbing of the missis,now and then, the low talking of friends in the next28