Wuthering Heights

sofa.”
    ‘After a cup of tea the lad
cheered up. Sometimes he cheered sideways and downwards but mostly up.
    ‘ “Oh, he’ll do well,” said
the master to me.
    ‘ “He’ll do well at what?”
I said.
    ‘ “Well,” said the master,
“he might take after his mother and die.” That was one of the master’s jokes.
They’d said Edgar Linton killed ninety-nine per cent of all known jokes.
    ‘I had seen Linton to bed.
I was downstairs lighting a candle, when a maid told me Joseph was waiting at
the door. He had been waiting by the window till I discovered his mistake.
    ‘ “I shall ask him what he
wants first,” I said. I opened the door, he wasn’t there.
    ‘ “I’ve discovered my
mistake,” he said coming in the window.
    ‘ “What do you want?” I
asked coldly. It was terrible news: Heathcliff had sent him to fetch Linton to Wuthering
Heights !!!
    ‘When Master Edgar Linton
heard the news, he was thunderstruck—how thunder got into so small a room is a
mystery. Thank Heaven lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. There
and then the lightning then struck him in the same place. He took a great gulp
of Martell’s brandy, a bargain at eighteen shillings a bottle. I watched his
Adam’s apple going up and down like a yo-yo. An expression of exceeding great
sorrow overcast his features. Indeed even his eyebrows looked heart-broken.
Again he resorted to the eighteen shillings a bottle and pocket billiards, then
spoke to Joseph. “The boy will stay here tonight.”
    ‘I told him Joseph wasn’t
in the room yet. I admitted the old man.
    ‘ “Tell Mister Heathcliff
his schon hic schall come hic to-morrish ahhh.”
    ‘Joseph in a rage banged
his stick on the floor, breaking it in two; using one half (and therefore bent
double) he left the room.
    ‘ “That’s got hic rid of
him,” said Master Edgar who then broke terrible wind that rattled the windows
and pictures fell off the wall. “Ah, that’s got rid of that,” he said. In fact
it got rid of everybody.’

Chapter
XX
    -------------
     
     
     
    T WAS FIVE o’clock next morning. Young Linton
was reluctant to be aroused from his bed, he was reluctant to be aroused from
under his bed, reluctant to be aroused from the chair by his bed, or hanging out
of the window by his bed. The hammer on his fingers released them. He fell into
the water butt in the garden. Later, by standing on his chest, we made him eat
breakfast. “My father?” he cried in strange perplexity. “Mamma never told me I
had a father in strange perplexity.”
    ‘ “No,” I said. “Your
mother was waiting till you were twenty-one so you could stand the shock of
knowing you had one.”
    ‘ “Was he ever struck twice
by lightning?” he asked.
    ‘ “No,” I said. “That was
your uncle.”
    ‘ “Will anyone come with me
to meet my father?” said the boy.
    ‘ “I shall be your
companion,” I said. At the mention of that he fell into a brown study; it took
us three hours to get him out. When we rode off to see Heathcliff at Wuthering
Heights, I told him Uncle Edgar and Cathy and Mrs Gladys Noffs would visit him.
The bright sunshine and the gentle canter of the horse relieved his
despondency. He suddenly gave a strain and a grunt. ‘ “Ah, that’s better, I’ve
just relieved myself of my despondency,” he said. “What’s my father like?” he
asked. I should have said “women”. But, no, I said. “He’s got black hair and
eyes and he’s brown.” I did not think it wise to mention the huge size of his
father’s private member, though it had played a big part in his being here.
    ‘We arrived at Wuthering
Heights, I went and opened the door; it was half past six. (Not many doors tell
the time.) They had just finished breakfast and were clearing up, wiping
porridge off the walls and ceilings. Joseph stood by the hearth poking the
fire. It was the only poke he had that year. Hareton was preparing to go to the
hayfield.
    ‘ “Hur Hur Hur,” he
laughed, a healthy young onanist.
    ‘ “Hello, Nelly,” said Heathcliff.
He surged forward, reeking of last night’s curry. I felt my eyes water. Joseph
and Hareton joined him looking at Linton.
    ‘ “Surely,” said Joseph,
“he’s swopped wi’ ye, master, porridge an’ yon’ his lass.”
    ‘ “Speak bloody English,
you silly sod,” said Heathcliff, shaking the old man by the throat.
    ‘ “Hur Hur Hur,” said the
young onanist.
    ‘Heathcliff stared at his
son in an ague of