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'With the pliments of a collegian taking leave。' He received the
gifts as tributes； from admirers； to a public character。 Sometimes
these correspondents assumed facetious names； as the Brick； Bellows； Old
Gooseberry； Wideawake； Snooks； Mops； Cutaway； the Dogs…meat Man； but he
considered this in bad taste； and was always a little hurt by it。
In the fulness of time； this correspondence showing signs of wearing
out； and seeming to require an effort on the part of the correspondents
to which in the hurried circumstances of departure many of them might
not be equal； he established the custom of attending collegians of
a certain standing； to the gate； and taking leave of them there。 The
collegian under treatment； after shaking hands； would occasionally
stop to wrap up something in a bit of paper； and would e back again
calling 'Hi！'
He would look round surprised。'Me？' he would say； with a smile。 By
this time the collegian would be up with him； and he would paternally
add；'What have you forgotten？ What can I do for you？'
'I forgot to leave this；' the collegian would usually return； 'for the
Father of the Marshalsea。'
'My good sir；' he would rejoin； 'he is infinitely obliged to you。' But；
to the last； the irresolute hand of old would remain in the pocket into
which he had slipped the money during two or three turns about the yard；
lest the transaction should be too conspicuous to the general body of
collegians。
One afternoon he had been doing the honours of the place to a rather
large party of collegians； who happened to be going out； when； as he was
ing back； he encountered one from the poor side who had been taken in
execution for a small sum a week before； had 'settled' in the course of
that afternoon； and was going out too。 The man was a mere Plasterer in
his working dress； had his wife with him； and a bundle； and was in high
spirits。
'God bless you； sir；' he said in passing。
'And you；' benignantly returned the Father of the Marshalsea。
They were pretty far divided； going their several ways； when the
Plasterer called out； 'I say！……sir！' and came back to him。
'It ain't much；' said the Plasterer； putting a little pile of halfpence
in his hand； 'but it's well meant。'
The Father of the Marshalsea had never been offered tribute in copper
yet。 His children often had； and with his perfect acquiescence it had
gone into the mon purse to buy meat that he had eaten； and drink that
he had drunk； but fustian splashed with white lime； bestowing halfpence
on him； front to front； was new。
'How dare you！' he said to the man； and feebly burst into tears。
The Plasterer turned him towards the wall； that his face might not be
seen； and the action was so delicate； and the man was so perated with
repentance； and asked pardon so honestly； that he could make him no less
acknowledgment than； 'I know you meant it kindly。 Say no more。'
'Bless your soul； sir；' urged the Plasterer； 'I did indeed。 I'd do more
by you than the rest of 'em do； I fancy。'
'What would you do？' he asked。
'I'd e back to see you； after I was let out。'
'Give me the money again；' said the other； eagerly； 'and I'll keep it；
and never spend it。 Thank you for it； thank you！ I shall see you again？'
'If I live a week you shall。'
They shook hands and parted。 The collegians； assembled in Symposium in
the Snuggery that night； marvelled what had happened to their Father； he
walked so late in the shadows of the yard； and seemed so downcast。
CHAPTER 7。 The Child of the Marshalsea
The baby whose first draught of air had been tinctured with Doctor
Haggage's brandy； was handed down among the generations of collegians；
like the tradition of their mon parent。 In the earlier stages of her
existence； she was handed down in a literal and prosaic sense； it being
almost a part of the entrance footing of every new collegian to nurse
the child who had been born in the college。
'By rights；' remarked the turnkey when she was first shown to him； 'I
ought to be her godfather。'
The debtor irresolutely thought of it for a minute； and said； 'Perhaps
you wouldn't object to really being her godfather？'
'Oh！ _I_ don't object；' replied the turnkey； 'if you don't。'
Thus it came to pass that she was christened one Sunday afternoon； when
the turnkey； being relieved； was off the lock； and that the turnkey
went up to the font of Saint George's Church； and promised and vowed and
renounced on her behalf； as he himself related when he came back； 'like
a good 'un。'
This invested the turnkey with a new proprietary share in the child；
over and above his former official one。 When she began to walk and talk；
he became fond of her； bought a little arm…chair and stood it by the
high fender of the lodge fire…place； liked to have her pany when he
was on the lock； and used to bribe her with cheap toys to e and talk
to him。 The child； for her part； soon grew so fond of the turnkey that
she would e climbing up the lodge…steps of her own accord at all
hours of the day。 When she fell asleep in the little armchair by the
high fender； the turnkey would cover her with his pocket…handkerchief；
and when she sat in it dressing and undressing a doll which soon came
to be unlike dolls on the other side of the lock； and to bear a horrible
family resemblance to Mrs Bangham……he would contemplate her from the
top of his stool with exceeding gentleness。 Witnessing these things；
the collegians would express an opinion that the turnkey； who was a
bachelor； had been cut out by nature for a family man。 But the turnkey
thanked them； and said； 'No； on the whole it was enough to see other
people's children there。' At what period of her early life the little
creature began to perceive that it was not the habit of all the world to
live locked up in narrow yards surrounded by high walls with spikes at
the top； would be a difficult question to settle。 But she was a very；
very little creature indeed； when she had somehow gained the knowledge
that her clasp of her father's hand was to be always loosened at the
door which the great key opened； and that while her own light steps were
free to pass beyond it； his feet mus