CHARLES DICKENS DOMBEY AND SON CHAPTER I Dombey and ...

'What's that?' inquired Paul.
'Never you mind, Sir,' retorted Mrs. Pipchin. 'Remember the story of the
little boy that was gored to death by a mad bull for asking questions.'
'If the bull was mad,' said Paul, 'how did he know that the boy had asked
questions? Nobody can go and whisper secrets to a mad bull. I don't believe
that story.'
'You don't believe it, Sir?' repeated Mrs. Pipchin, amazed.
'No,' said Paul.
'Not if it should happen to have been a tame bull, you little Infidel?' said
Mrs. Pipchen.
As Paul had not considered the subject in that light, and had founded his
conclusions on the alleged lunacy of the bull, he allowed himself to be put
down for the present. But he sat turning it over in his mind, with such an
obvious intention of fixing Mrs. Pipchin presently, that even that hardy old
lady deemed it prudent to retreat until he should have forgotten the
subject.
From that time, Mrs. Pipchin appeared to have something of the same odd kind
of attraction towards Paul, as Paul had towards her. She would make him move
his chair to her side of the fire, instead of sitting opposite; and there he
would remain in a nook between Mrs. Pipchin and the fender, with all the
light of his little face absorbed into the black bombazeen drapery, studying
every line and wrinkle of her countenance, and peering at the hard grey eye,
until Mrs. Pipchin was sometimes fain to shut it on pretence of dozing. Mrs.
Pipchin had an old black cat, who generally lay coiled upon the centre foot
of the fender, purring egotistically, and winking at the fire until the
contracted pupils of his eyes were like two notes of admiration. The good
old lady might have been--not to record it disrespectfully--a witch, and
Paul and the cat her two familiars, as they all sat by the fire together. It
would have been quite in keeping with the appearance of the party if they