The cap , the nose and chin and the broad waist form an admirable caricature , which dances , moreover , with the up-flickering and down-sinking blaze almost too merrily for the shade of an elderly widow . At this instant a shower chances to fall , and is driven by the unmannerly gust full into Wakefield 's face and bosom . He is quite penetrated with its autumnal chill . Shall he stand wet and shivering here , when his own hearth has a good fire to warm him and his own wife will run to fetch the gray coat and small-clothes which doubtless she has kept carefully in the closet of their bedchamber ? No ; Wakefield is no such fool . He ascends the steps -- heavily , for twenty years have stiffened his legs since he came down , but he knows it not . -- Stay , Wakefield ! Would you go to the sole home that is left you ? Then step into your grave . -- The door opens . As he passes in we have a parting glimpse of his visage , and recognize the crafty smile which was the precursor of the little joke that he has ever since been playing off at his wife 's expense . How unmercifully has he quizzed the poor woman ! Well , a good night 's rest to Wakefield ! This happy event -- supposing it to be such -- could only have occurred at an unpremeditated moment . We will not follow our friend across the threshold . He has left us much food for thought , a portion of which shall lend its wisdom to a moral and be shaped into a figure . Amid the seeming confusion of our mysterious world individuals are so nicely adjusted to a system , and systems to one another and to a whole , that by stepping aside for a moment a man exposes himself to a fearful risk of losing his place for ever . Like Wakefield , he may become , as it were , the outcast of the universe . A RILL FROM THE TOWN-PUMP . -LRB- SCENE , the corner of two principal streets , -LSB- 1 -RSB- the TOWN-PUMP talking through its nose . -RRB-
Noon XXXXX the north clock !
Amid At FROM across by for in of through with