STORY ONE, CHAPTER 1.MR SUDBERRY IN HIS COUNTING-HOUSE.Mr John Sudberry was a successful London merchant. He was also a fatlittle man. Moreover, he was a sturdy little man, wore spectacles, andhad a smooth bald head, over which, at the time we introduce him to thereader, fifty summers had passed, with their corresponding autumns,winters, and springs. The passage of so many seasons over him appearedto have exercised a polishing influence on the merchant, for MrSudberry's cranium shone like a billiard-ball. In temperament MrSudberry was sanguine, and full of energy. He could scarcely have beena successful merchant without these qualities. He was also extremelyviolent.Now, it is necessary here to guard the reader from falling into amistake in reference to Mr Sudberry's character. We have said that hewas violent, but it must not be supposed that he was _passionate_. Byno means. He was the most amiable and sweet-tempered of men. Hisviolence was owing to physical rather than mental causes. He was hastyin his volitions, impulsive in his actions, madly reckless in hispersonal movements. His moral and physical being was capable of onlytwo conditions--deep repose or wild activity.At his desk Mr Sudberry was wont to sit motionless like a statue, withhis face buried in his hands and his thoughts busy. When these thoughtsculminated, he would start as if he had received an electric shock,seize a pen, and, with pursed lips and frowning brows, send it careeringover the paper with harrowing rapidity, squeaking and chirping, (thepen, not the man), like a small bird with a bad cold. Mr Sudberry usedquills. He was a _tremendous_ writer. He could have reported thedebates of the "House" in long-hand.The merchant's portrait is not yet finished. He was a peculiar man, andmen of this sort cannot be sketched off in a few lines. Indeed, had henot been a peculiar man, it would not have been worth while to drag himthus prominently into notice.Among other peculiarities in Mr Sudberry's character, he was afflictedwith a chronic tendency to _dab_ his pen into the ink-bottle and splitit to the feather, or double up its point so as to render itunserviceable. This infirmity, coupled with an uncommon capacity forupsetting ink-bottles, had induced him to hire a small clerk, whoseprincipal duties were to mend pens, wipe up ink, and, generally, toattend to the removal of _debris_.When Mr Sudberry slept he did it profoundly. When he awoke he did itwith a start and a stare, as if amazed at having caught himself in thevery act of indulging in such weakness. When he washed he puffed, andgasped, and rubbed, and made such a noise, that one might have supposeda walrus was engaged in its ablutions. How the skin of his head, face,and neck stood the towelling it received is incomprehensible! When hewalked he went like an express train; when he sauntered he relapsed intothe slowest possible snail's-pace, but he did not graduate the changesfrom one to the other. When he sat down he did so with a crash. Thenumber of chairs which Mr Sudberry broke in the course of his lifewould have filled a goodly-sized concert-room; and the number oftea-cups which he had swept off tables with the tails of his coat might,we believe, have set up a moderately ambitious man in the china trade.