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Way of All Flesh, The
CHAPTER XVII
Samuel Butler
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       _ In the course of time this sorrow was removed. At the beginning of
       the fifth year of her married life Christina was safely delivered of
       a boy. This was on the sixth of September 1835.
       Word was immediately sent to old Mr Pontifex, who received the news
       with real pleasure. His son John's wife had borne daughters only,
       and he was seriously uneasy lest there should be a failure in the
       male line of his descendants. The good news, therefore, was doubly
       welcome, and caused as much delight at Elmhurst as dismay in Woburn
       Square, where the John Pontifexes were then living.
       Here, indeed, this freak of fortune was felt to be all the more
       cruel on account of the impossibility of resenting it openly; but
       the delighted grandfather cared nothing for what the John Pontifexes
       might feel or not feel; he had wanted a grandson and he had got a
       grandson, and this should be enough for everybody; and, now that Mrs
       Theobald had taken to good ways, she might bring him more grandsons,
       which would be desirable, for he should not feel safe with fewer
       than three.
       He rang the bell for the butler.
       "Gelstrap," he said solemnly, "I want to go down into the cellar."
       Then Gelstrap preceded him with a candle, and he went into the inner
       vault where he kept his choicest wines.
       He passed many bins: there was 1803 Port, 1792 Imperial Tokay, 1800
       Claret, 1812 Sherry, these and many others were passed, but it was
       not for them that the head of the Pontifex family had gone down into
       his inner cellar. A bin, which had appeared empty until the full
       light of the candle had been brought to bear upon it, was now found
       to contain a single pint bottle. This was the object of Mr
       Pontifex's search.
       Gelstrap had often pondered over this bottle. It had been placed
       there by Mr Pontifex himself about a dozen years previously, on his
       return from a visit to his friend the celebrated traveller Dr Jones-
       -but there was no tablet above the bin which might give a clue to
       the nature of its contents. On more than one occasion when his
       master had gone out and left his keys accidentally behind him, as he
       sometimes did, Gelstrap had submitted the bottle to all the tests he
       could venture upon, but it was so carefully sealed that wisdom
       remained quite shut out from that entrance at which he would have
       welcomed her most gladly--and indeed from all other entrances, for
       he could make out nothing at all.
       And now the mystery was to be solved. But alas! it seemed as though
       the last chance of securing even a sip of the contents was to be
       removed for ever, for Mr Pontifex took the bottle into his own hands
       and held it up to the light after carefully examining the seal. He
       smiled and left the bin with the bottle in his hands.
       Then came a catastrophe. He stumbled over an empty hamper; there
       was the sound of a fall--a smash of broken glass, and in an instant
       the cellar floor was covered with the liquid that had been preserved
       so carefully for so many years.
       With his usual presence of mind Mr Pontifex gasped out a month's
       warning to Gelstrap. Then he got up, and stamped as Theobald had
       done when Christina had wanted not to order his dinner.
       "It's water from the Jordan," he exclaimed furiously, "which I have
       been saving for the baptism of my eldest grandson. Damn you,
       Gelstrap, how dare you be so infernally careless as to leave that
       hamper littering about the cellar?"
       I wonder the water of the sacred stream did not stand upright as an
       heap upon the cellar floor and rebuke him. Gelstrap told the other
       servants afterwards that his master's language had made his backbone
       curdle.
       The moment, however, that he heard the word "water," he saw his way
       again, and flew to the pantry. Before his master had well noted his
       absence he returned with a little sponge and a basin, and had begun
       sopping up the waters of the Jordan as though they had been a common
       slop.
       "I'll filter it, Sir," said Gelstrap meekly. "It'll come quite
       clean."
       Mr Pontifex saw hope in this suggestion, which was shortly carried
       out by the help of a piece of blotting paper and a funnel, under his
       own eyes. Eventually it was found that half a pint was saved, and
       this was held to be sufficient.
       Then he made preparations for a visit to Battersby. He ordered
       goodly hampers of the choicest eatables, he selected a goodly hamper
       of choice drinkables. I say choice and not choicest, for although
       in his first exaltation he had selected some of his very best wine,
       yet on reflection he had felt that there was moderation in all
       things, and as he was parting with his best water from the Jordan,
       he would only send some of his second best wine.
       Before he went to Battersby he stayed a day or two in London, which
       he now seldom did, being over seventy years old, and having
       practically retired from business. The John Pontifexes, who kept a
       sharp eye on him, discovered to their dismay that he had had an
       interview with his solicitors. _