Why eat a dessert and then a savory pie? Why not finish with pudding? If it were a savory pudding, why does it require its own course? This seems a strange custom...highly illogical.
Mrs. Hubble looks kinda like Cousin It...
Mrs. Joe: And where the deuce ha’ you been?
Pip: [I’ve been down to hear the Carols]
Mrs. Joe: Ah! Well! 40You might ha’ done worse. Perhaps if I warn't a blacksmith's wife, and (what's the same thing) a slave with her apron never off, I should have been to hear the Carols. I'm rather partial to Carols, myself, and that's the best of reasons for my never hearing any.
They prepare for dinner and leave for church in their best clothes. Soon afterward, the company arrives, consisting of Mr. Wopsle, the clerk, Mr. Hubble, the wheelwright, his wife and Uncle Pumblechook, the well-to-do corn-chandler. The dinner begins at 1:30.
43Uncle Pumblechook: Mrs. Joe, 44I have brought you, as the compliments of the season - I have brought you, Mum, a bottle of sherry wine - and I have brought you, Mum, a bottle of port wine.
Mrs. Joe: Oh, Un - cle Pum - ble - chook! This IS kind!
Uncle Pumblechook: It's no more than your merits. And now are you all bobbish, and how's Sixpennorth of halfpence?
45The other guests arrive and Mr. Wopsle says grace
Mrs. Joe: Do you hear that? Be grateful.
Uncle Pumblechook: Especially, be grateful, boy, to them which brought you up by hand.
46Mrs. Hubble: Why is it that the young are never grateful?
Mr. Hubble: Naterally wicious.
All: True!
They continue talking, and start discussing the sermon. Mr. Wopsle remarks that he would have given a different sermon if the Church had been “thrown open” and that there are many other subjects “going about.”
Uncle Pumblechook: True again. You've hit it, sir! Plenty of subjects going about, for them that know how to put salt upon their tails. That's what's wanted. A man needn't go far to find a subject, if he's ready with his salt-box. Look at Pork alone. There's a subject! If you want a subject, look at Pork!
47Mr. Wopsle: True, sir. Many a moral for the young might be deduced from that text.
Mrs. Joe: You listen to this.
Mr. Wopsle: Swine. Swine were the companions of the prodigal. The gluttony of Swine is put before us, as an example to the young. What is detestable in a pig, is more detestable in a boy.
Mr. Hubble: Or girl.
Mr. Wopsle: Of course, or girl, Mr. Hubble, but there is no girl present.
Uncle Pumblechook: Besides, think what you've got to be grateful for. If you'd been born a Squeaker--
Mrs. Joe: He was, if ever a child was.
Uncle Pumblechook: Well, but I mean a four-footed Squeaker. If you had been born such, would you have been here now? Not you--
Mr. Wosple: Unless in that form.
48Uncle Pumblechook: But I don't mean in that form, sir. I mean, enjoying himself with his elders and betters, and improving himself with their conversation, and rolling in the lap of luxury. Would he have been doing that? No, he wouldn't. And what would have been your destination? You would have been disposed of for so many shillings according to the market price of the article, and Dunstable the butcher would have come up to you as you lay in your straw, and he would have whipped you under his left arm, and with his right he would have tucked up his frock to get a penknife from out of his waistcoat-pocket, and he would have shed your blood and had your life. No bringing up by hand then. Not a bit of it!
Mrs. Hubble: He was a world of trouble to you, ma’am.
Mrs. Joe: Trouble? Trouble?
Gives a list of the “trouble” Pip has caused her: his illnesses, acts of sleeplessness, places he’d fallen from, places he’d fallen into and the injuries he’d given himself
49Uncle Pumblechook: Yet, pork—regarded as biled—is rich, too; ain’t it?
Mrs. Joe: Have a little brandy, uncle.
Retreives brandy and gives it to Pumblechook. Upon drinking it, he has a fit of violent and spasmodic coughs.
50Uncle Pumblechook: Tar!
Mrs. Joe: Tar! Why, however could Tar come there?
They return and finish a course of pudding
51Mrs. Joe (to Joe): Clean plates—cold. (To guests) You must taste, you must taste, to finish with, such a delightful and delicious present of Uncle Pumblechook's! You must know it’s a pie; a savoury pork pie.
Uncle Pumblechook: Well, Mrs. Joe, we'll do our best endeavours; let us have a cut at this same pie.
Mr. Hubble: A bit of savoury pork pie would lay atop of anything you could mention, and do no harm.
Joe: You shall have some, Pip.
Mrs. Joe shrieks. 52Pip runs to the door, when police officers enter
Officer: Here you are, look sharp, come on!
Pip: [I’ve been down to hear the Carols]
Mrs. Joe: Ah! Well! 40You might ha’ done worse. Perhaps if I warn't a blacksmith's wife, and (what's the same thing) a slave with her apron never off, I should have been to hear the Carols. I'm rather partial to Carols, myself, and that's the best of reasons for my never hearing any.
They prepare for dinner and leave for church in their best clothes. Soon afterward, the company arrives, consisting of Mr. Wopsle, the clerk, Mr. Hubble, the wheelwright, his wife and Uncle Pumblechook, the well-to-do corn-chandler. The dinner begins at 1:30.
43Uncle Pumblechook: Mrs. Joe, 44I have brought you, as the compliments of the season - I have brought you, Mum, a bottle of sherry wine - and I have brought you, Mum, a bottle of port wine.
Mrs. Joe: Oh, Un - cle Pum - ble - chook! This IS kind!
Uncle Pumblechook: It's no more than your merits. And now are you all bobbish, and how's Sixpennorth of halfpence?
45The other guests arrive and Mr. Wopsle says grace
Mrs. Joe: Do you hear that? Be grateful.
Uncle Pumblechook: Especially, be grateful, boy, to them which brought you up by hand.
46Mrs. Hubble: Why is it that the young are never grateful?
Mr. Hubble: Naterally wicious.
All: True!
They continue talking, and start discussing the sermon. Mr. Wopsle remarks that he would have given a different sermon if the Church had been “thrown open” and that there are many other subjects “going about.”
Uncle Pumblechook: True again. You've hit it, sir! Plenty of subjects going about, for them that know how to put salt upon their tails. That's what's wanted. A man needn't go far to find a subject, if he's ready with his salt-box. Look at Pork alone. There's a subject! If you want a subject, look at Pork!
47Mr. Wopsle: True, sir. Many a moral for the young might be deduced from that text.
Mrs. Joe: You listen to this.
Mr. Wopsle: Swine. Swine were the companions of the prodigal. The gluttony of Swine is put before us, as an example to the young. What is detestable in a pig, is more detestable in a boy.
Mr. Hubble: Or girl.
Mr. Wopsle: Of course, or girl, Mr. Hubble, but there is no girl present.
Uncle Pumblechook: Besides, think what you've got to be grateful for. If you'd been born a Squeaker--
Mrs. Joe: He was, if ever a child was.
Uncle Pumblechook: Well, but I mean a four-footed Squeaker. If you had been born such, would you have been here now? Not you--
Mr. Wosple: Unless in that form.
48Uncle Pumblechook: But I don't mean in that form, sir. I mean, enjoying himself with his elders and betters, and improving himself with their conversation, and rolling in the lap of luxury. Would he have been doing that? No, he wouldn't. And what would have been your destination? You would have been disposed of for so many shillings according to the market price of the article, and Dunstable the butcher would have come up to you as you lay in your straw, and he would have whipped you under his left arm, and with his right he would have tucked up his frock to get a penknife from out of his waistcoat-pocket, and he would have shed your blood and had your life. No bringing up by hand then. Not a bit of it!
Mrs. Hubble: He was a world of trouble to you, ma’am.
Mrs. Joe: Trouble? Trouble?
Gives a list of the “trouble” Pip has caused her: his illnesses, acts of sleeplessness, places he’d fallen from, places he’d fallen into and the injuries he’d given himself
49Uncle Pumblechook: Yet, pork—regarded as biled—is rich, too; ain’t it?
Mrs. Joe: Have a little brandy, uncle.
Retreives brandy and gives it to Pumblechook. Upon drinking it, he has a fit of violent and spasmodic coughs.
50Uncle Pumblechook: Tar!
Mrs. Joe: Tar! Why, however could Tar come there?
They return and finish a course of pudding
51Mrs. Joe (to Joe): Clean plates—cold. (To guests) You must taste, you must taste, to finish with, such a delightful and delicious present of Uncle Pumblechook's! You must know it’s a pie; a savoury pork pie.
Uncle Pumblechook: Well, Mrs. Joe, we'll do our best endeavours; let us have a cut at this same pie.
Mr. Hubble: A bit of savoury pork pie would lay atop of anything you could mention, and do no harm.
Joe: You shall have some, Pip.
Mrs. Joe shrieks. 52Pip runs to the door, when police officers enter
Officer: Here you are, look sharp, come on!
