Charles Dickens - Complete Works of Charles Dickens (Illustrated)

THE COMPLETE WORKS OF

CHARLES DICKENS

(1812-1870)

Contents

Delphi Classics 2012

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In tribute to the bicentennial of the birth of Charles Dickens, Delphi Classics is pleased to introduce Dickensiana , a first of its kind e-compilation of period accounts of Dickens life and works, rare 19th and early 20th century books and articles about Dickens and Dickensian locales, reminiscences by family, friends and colleagues, tribute poems, parodies, satires and sequels based on his works and much more, spiced with an abundance of vintage images.

THE COMPLETE WORKS OF

CHARLES DICKENS

By Delphi Classics, 2012

Dickens birthplace, Portsmouth now a museum

Dickens birthplace, 1904

This is the first published work of Charles Dickens, which appeared in the Monthly Magazine in December 1833. It was later retitled Mr. Minns and His Cousin and can also be found in Sketches by Boz . However, since it is the beginning of the great writers oeuvre, it is presented at the very front of this collection. In reading this short story, we can at once detect the inimitable nature of Dickensian writing: varied characters, telling human and social understanding and, of course, hilarious comedy.

Here is an account by Dickens, explaining how he felt when first publishing this story:

...my first copy of the Magazine in which my first effusion - dropped stealthily one evening at twilight, with fear and trembling, into a dark letter-box, in a dark office, up a dark court in Fleet Street - appeared in all the glory of print; on which memorable occasion - how well I recollect it! - I walked down to Westminster Hall, and turned into it for half-an-hour, because my eyes were so dimmed with joy and pride, that they could not bear the street, and were not fit to been seen there.

Ordnance Terrace, Chatham , Dickens home from 18171822

A DINNER AT POPLAR WALK

Mr. Augustus Minns was a bachelor, of about forty as he said of about eight-and-forty as his friends said. He was always exceedingly clean, precise, and tidy; perhaps somewhat priggish, and the most retiring man in the world. He usually wore a brown frock-coat without a wrinkle, light inexplicables without a spot, a neat neckerchief with a remarkably neat tie, and boots without a fault; moreover, he always carried a brown silk umbrella with an ivory handle. He was a clerk in Somerset-house, or, as he said himself, he held a responsible situation under Government. He had a good and increasing salary, in addition to some 10,000 l. of his own (invested in the funds), and he occupied a first floor in Tavistock-street, Covent-garden, where he had resided for twenty years, having been in the habit of quarrelling with his landlord the whole time: regularly giving notice of his intention to quit on the first day of every quarter, and as regularly countermanding it on the second. There were two classes of created objects which he held in the deepest and most unmingled horror; these were dogs, and children. He was not unamiable, but he could, at any time, have viewed the execution of a dog, or the assassination of an infant, with the liveliest satisfaction. Their habits were at variance with his love of order; and his love of order was as powerful as his love of life. Mr. Augustus Minns had no relations, in or near London , with the exception of his cousin, Mr. Octavius Budden, to whose son, whom he had never seen (for he disliked the father), he had consented to become godfather by proxy. Mr. Budden having realised a moderate fortune by exercising the trade or calling of a corn-chandler, and having a great predilection for the country, had purchased a cottage in the vicinity of Stamford-hill, whither he retired with the wife of his bosom, and his only son, Master Alexander Augustus Budden. One evening, as Mr. and Mrs. B. were admiring their son, discussing his various merits, talking over his education, and disputing whether the classics should be made an essential part thereof, the lady pressed so strongly upon her husband the propriety of cultivating the friendship of Mr. Minns in behalf of their son, that Mr. Budden at last made up his mind, that it should not be his fault if he and his cousin were not in future more intimate.

Ill break the ice, my love, said Mr. Budden, stirring up the sugar at the bottom of his glass of brandy-and-water, and casting a sidelong look at his spouse to see the effect of the announcement of his determination, by asking Minns down to dine with us, on Sunday.

Then pray, Budden, write to your cousin at once, replied Mrs. Budden. Who knows, if we could only get him down here, but he might take a fancy to our Alexander, and leave him his property? Alick, my dear, take your legs off the rail of the chair!

Very true, said Mr. Budden, musing, very true indeed, my love! On the following morning, as Mr. Minns was sitting at his breakfast-table, alternately biting his dry toast and casting a look upon the columns of his morning paper, which he always read from the title to the printers name, he heard a loud knock at the street-door; which was shortly afterwards followed by the entrance of his servant, who put into his hands a particularly small card, on which was engraven in immense letters, Mr. Octavius Budden, Amelia Cottage (Mrs. B.s name was Amelia), Poplar-walk, Stamford-hill.

Budden! ejaculated Minns, what can bring that vulgar man here! say Im asleep say Im out, and shall never be home again anything to keep him down-stairs.

But please, sir, the gentlemans coming up, replied the servant, and the fact was made evident, by an appalling creaking of boots on the staircase accompanied by a pattering noise; the cause of which, Minns could not, for the life of him, divine.

Hem show the gentleman in, said the unfortunate bachelor. Exit servant, and enter Octavius preceded by a large white dog, dressed in a suit of fleecy hosiery, with pink eyes, large ears, and no perceptible tail.

The cause of the pattering on the stairs was but too plain. Mr. Augustus Minns staggered beneath the shock of the dogs appearance.

My dear fellow, how are you? said Budden, as he entered.

He always spoke at the top of his voice, and always said the same thing half-a-dozen times.