Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomeLong StoriesMartin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT Post by :metprezi Category :Long Stories Author :Charles Dickens Date :January 2011 Read :2288

Click below to download : Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT (Format : PDF)

Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

MR MONTAGUE AT HOME. AND MR JONAS CHUZZLEWIT AT HOME


There were many powerful reasons for Jonas Chuzzlewit being strongly

prepossessed in favour of the scheme which its great originator had

so boldly laid open to him; but three among them stood prominently

forward. Firstly, there was money to be made by it. Secondly, the

money had the peculiar charm of being sagaciously obtained at other

people's cost. Thirdly, it involved much outward show of homage and

distinction: a board being an awful institution in its own sphere,

and a director a mighty man. 'To make a swingeing profit, have a

lot of chaps to order about, and get into regular good society by

one and the same means, and them so easy to one's hand, ain't such a

bad look-out,' thought Jonas. The latter considerations were only

second to his avarice; for, conscious that there was nothing in his

person, conduct, character, or accomplishments, to command respect,

he was greedy of power, and was, in his heart, as much a tyrant as

any laureled conqueror on record.

 

But he determined to proceed with cunning and caution, and to be

very keen on his observation of the gentility of Mr Montague's

private establishment. For it no more occurred to this shallow

knave that Montague wanted him to be so, or he wouldn't have invited

him while his decision was yet in abeyance, than the possibility of

that genius being able to overreach him in any way, pierced through

his self-deceit by the inlet of a needle's point. He had said, in

the outset, that Jonas was too sharp for him; and Jonas, who would

have been sharp enough to believe him in nothing else, though he had

solemnly sworn it, believed him in that, instantly.

 

It was with a faltering hand, and yet with an imbecile attempt at

a swagger, that he knocked at his new friend's door in Pall Mall

when the appointed hour arrived. Mr Bailey quickly answered to

the summons. He was not proud and was kindly disposed to take

notice of Jonas; but Jonas had forgotten him.

 

'Mr Montague at home?'

 

'I should hope he wos at home, and waiting dinner, too,' said

Bailey, with the ease of an old acquaintance. 'Will you take your

hat up along with you, or leave it here?'

 

Mr Jonas preferred leaving it there.

 

'The hold name, I suppose?' said Bailey, with a grin.

 

Mr Jonas stared at him in mute indignation.

 

'What, don't you remember hold mother Todgers's?' said Mr Bailey,

with his favourite action of the knees and boots. 'Don't you

remember my taking your name up to the young ladies, when you came

a-courting there? A reg'lar scaly old shop, warn't it? Times is

changed ain't they. I say how you've growed!'

 

Without pausing for any acknowledgement of this compliment, he

ushered the visitor upstairs, and having announced him, retired

with a private wink.

 

The lower story of the house was occupied by a wealthy tradesman,

but Mr Montague had all the upper portion, and splendid lodging it

was. The room in which he received Jonas was a spacious and elegant

apartment, furnished with extreme magnificence; decorated with

pictures, copies from the antique in alabaster and marble, china

vases, lofty mirrors, crimson hangings of the richest silk, gilded

carvings, luxurious couches, glistening cabinets inlaid with

precious woods; costly toys of every sort in negligent abundance.

The only guests besides Jonas were the doctor, the resident

Director, and two other gentlemen, whom Montague presented in due

form.

 

'My dear friend, I am delighted to see you. Jobling you know, I

believe?'

 

'I think so,' said the doctor pleasantly, as he stepped out of the

circle to shake hands. 'I trust I have the honour. I hope so. My

dear sir, I see you well. Quite well? THAT'S well!'

 

'Mr Wolf,' said Montague, as soon as the doctor would allow him to

introduce the two others, 'Mr Chuzzlewit. Mr Pip, Mr Chuzzlewit.'

 

Both gentlemen were exceedingly happy to have the honour of making

Mr Chuzzlewit's acquaintance. The doctor drew Jonas a little apart,

and whispered behind his hand:

 

'Men of the world, my dear sir--men of the world. Hem! Mr Wolf

--literary character--you needn't mention it--remarkably clever

weekly paper--oh, remarkably clever! Mr Pip--theatrical man--

capital man to know--oh, capital man!'

 

'Well!' said Wolf, folding his arms and resuming a conversation

which the arrival of Jonas had interrupted. 'And what did Lord

Nobley say to that?'

 

'Why,' returned Pip, with an oath. 'He didn't know what to say.

Same, sir, if he wasn't as mute as a poker. But you know what a

good fellow Nobley is!'

 

'The best fellow in the world!' cried Wolf. 'It as only last week

that Nobley said to me, "By Gad, Wolf, I've got a living to bestow,

and if you had but been brought up at the University, strike me

blind if I wouldn't have made a parson of you!"'

 

'Just like him,' said Pip with another oath. 'And he'd have done

it!'

 

'Not a doubt of it,' said Wolf. 'But you were going to tell us--'

 

'Oh, yes!' cried Pip. 'To be sure. So I was. At first he was

dumb--sewn up, dead, sir--but after a minute he said to the Duke,

"Here's Pip. Ask Pip. Pip's our mutual friend. Ask Pip. He

knows." "Damme!" said the Duke, "I appeal to Pip then. Come, Pip.

Bandy or not bandy? Speak out!" "Bandy, your Grace, by the Lord

Harry!" said I. "Ha, ha!" laughed the Duke. "To be sure she is.

Bravo, Pip. Well said Pip. I wish I may die if you're not a trump,

Pip. Pop me down among your fashionable visitors whenever I'm in

town, Pip." And so I do, to this day.'

 

The conclusion of this story gave immense satisfaction, which was in

no degree lessened by the announcement of dinner. Jonas repaired to

the dining room, along with his distinguished host, and took his

seat at the board between that individual and his friend the doctor.

The rest fell into their places like men who were well accustomed to

the house; and dinner was done full justice to, by all parties.

 

It was a good a one as money (or credit, no matter which) could

produce. The dishes, wines, and fruits were of the choicest kind.

Everything was elegantly served. The plate was gorgeous. Mr Jonas

was in the midst of a calculation of the value of this item alone,

when his host disturbed him.

 

'A glass of wine?'

 

'Oh!' said Jonas, who had had several glasses already. 'As much of

that as you like! It's too good to refuse.'

 

'Well said, Mr Chuzzlewit!' cried Wolf.

 

'Tom Gag, upon my soul!' said Pip.

 

'Positively, you know, that's--ha, ha, ha!' observed the doctor,

laying down his knife and fork for one instant, and then going to work

again, pell-mell--'that's epigrammatic; quite!'

 

'You're tolerably comfortable, I hope?' said Tigg, apart to Jonas.

 

'Oh! You needn't trouble your head about ME,' he replied, 'Famous!'

 

'I thought it best not to have a party,' said Tigg. 'You feel

that?'

 

'Why, what do you call this?' retorted Jonas. 'You don't mean to

say you do this every day, do you?'

 

'My dear fellow,' said Montague, shrugging his shoulders, 'every day

of my life, when I dine at home. This is my common style. It was

of no use having anything uncommon for you. You'd have seen through

it. "You'll have a party?" said Crimple. "No, I won't," I said.

"he shall take us in the rough!"

 

'And pretty smooth, too, ecod!' said Jonas, glancing round the

table. 'This don't cost a trifle.'

 

'Why, to be candid with you, it does not,' returned the other. 'But

I like this sort of thing. It's the way I spend my money.'

 

Jonas thrust his tongue into his cheek, and said, 'Was it?'

 

'When you join us, you won't get rid of your share of the profits in

the same way?' said Tigg.

 

'Quite different,' retorted Jonas.

 

'Well, and you're right,' said Tigg, with friendly candour. 'You

needn't. It's not necessary. One of a Company must do it to hold the

connection together; but, as I take a pleasure in it, that's my

department. You don't mind dining expensively at another man's

expense, I hope?'

 

'Not a bit,' said Jonas.

 

'Then I hope you'll often dine with me?'

 

'Ah!' said Jonas, 'I don't mind. On the contrary.'

 

'And I'll never attempt to talk business to you over wine, I take my

oath,' said Tigg. 'Oh deep, deep, deep of you this morning! I must

tell 'em that. They're the very men to enjoy it. Pip, my good

fellow, I've a splendid little trait to tell you of my friend

Chuzzlewit who is the deepest dog I know; I give you my sacred word

of honour he is the deepest dog I know, Pip!'

 

Pip swore a frightful oath that he was sure of it already; and the

anecdote, being told, was received with loud applause, as an

incontestable proof of Mr Jonas's greatness. Pip, in a natural

spirit of emulation, then related some instances of his own depth;

and Wolf not to be left behind-hand, recited the leading points of

one or two vastly humorous articles he was then preparing. These

lucubrations being of what he called 'a warm complexion,' were

highly approved; and all the company agreed that they were full of

point.

 

'Men of the world, my dear sir,' Jobling whispered to Jonas;

'thorough men of the world! To a professional person like myself

it's quite refreshing to come into this kind of society. It's not

only agreeable--and nothing CAN be more agreeable--but it's

philosophically improving. It's character, my dear sir; character!'

 

It is so pleasant to find real merit appreciated, whatever its

particular walk in life may be, that the general harmony of the

company was doubtless much promoted by their knowing that the two

men of the world were held in great esteem by the upper classes of

society, and by the gallant defenders of their country in the army

and navy, but particularly the former. The least of their stories

had a colonel in it; lords were as plentiful as oaths; and even the

Blood Royal ran in the muddy channel of their personal recollections.

 

'Mr Chuzzlewit didn't know him, I'm afraid,' said Wolf, in reference

to a certain personage of illustrious descent, who had previously

figured in a reminiscence.

 

'No,' said Tigg. 'But we must bring him into contact with this sort

of fellows.'

 

'He was very fond of literature,' observed Wolf.

 

'Was he?' said Tigg.

 

'Oh, yes; he took my paper regularly for many years. Do you know he

said some good things now and then? He asked a certain Viscount,

who's a friend of mine--Pip knows him--"What's the editor's name,

what's the editor's name?" "Wolf." "Wolf, eh? Sharp biter, Wolf.

We must keep the Wolf from the door, as the proverb says. It was

very well. And being complimentary, I printed it.'

 

'But the Viscount's the boy!' cried Pip, who invented a new oath for

the introduction of everything he said. 'The Viscount's the boy! He

came into our place one night to take Her home; rather slued, but

not much; and said, "Where's Pip? I want to see Pip. Produce

Pip!"--"What's the row, my lord?"--"Shakspeare's an infernal humbug,

Pip! What's the good of Shakspeare, Pip? I never read him. What

the devil is it all about, Pip? There's a lot of feet in

Shakspeare's verse, but there an't any legs worth mentioning in

Shakspeare's plays, are there, Pip? Juliet, Desdemona, Lady

Macbeth, and all the rest of 'em, whatever their names are, might as

well have no legs at all, for anything the audience know about it,

Pip. Why, in that respect they're all Miss Biffins to the audience,

Pip. I'll tell you what it is. What the people call dramatic

poetry is a collection of sermons. Do I go to the theatre to be

lectured? No, Pip. If I wanted that, I'd go to church. What's the

legitimate object of the drama, Pip? Human nature. What are legs?

Human nature. Then let us have plenty of leg pieces, Pip, and I'll

stand by you, my buck!" and I am proud to say,' added Pip, 'that he

DID stand by me, handsomely.'

 

The conversation now becoming general, Mr Jonas's opinion was

requested on this subject; and as it was in full accordance with the

sentiments of Mr Pip, that gentleman was extremely gratified.

Indeed, both himself and Wolf had so much in common with Jonas, that

they became very amicable; and between their increasing friendship

and the fumes of wine, Jonas grew talkative.

 

It does not follow in the case of such a person that the more

talkative he becomes, the more agreeable he is; on the contrary, his

merits show to most advantage, perhaps, in silence. Having no

means, as he thought, of putting himself on an equality with the

rest, but by the assertion of that depth and sharpness on which he

had been complimented, Jonas exhibited that faculty to the utmost;

and was so deep and sharp that he lost himself in his own

profundity, and cut his fingers with his own edge-tools.

 

It was especially in his way and character to exhibit his quality at

his entertainer's expense; and while he drank of his sparkling

wines, and partook of his monstrous profusion, to ridicule the

extravagance which had set such costly fare before him. Even at

such a wanton board, and in such more than doubtful company, this

might have proved a disagreeable experiment, but that Tigg and

Crimple, studying to understand their man thoroughly, gave him what

license he chose: knowing that the more he took, the better for

their purpose. And thus while the blundering cheat--gull that he

was, for all his cunning--thought himself rolled up hedgehog

fashion, with his sharpest points towards them, he was, in fact,

betraying all his vulnerable parts to their unwinking watchfulness.

 

Whether the two gentlemen who contributed so much to the doctor's

philosophical knowledge (by the way, the doctor slipped off quietly,

after swallowing his usual amount of wine) had had their cue

distinctly from the host, or took it from what they saw and heard,

they acted their parts very well. They solicited the honour of

Jonas's better acquaintance; trusted that they would have the

pleasure of introducing him into that elevated society in which he

was so well qualified to shine; and informed him, in the most

friendly manner that the advantages of their respective

establishments were entirely at his control. In a word, they said

'Be one of us!' And Jonas said he was infinitely obliged to them,

and he would be; adding within himself, that so long as they 'stood

treat,' there was nothing he would like better.

 

After coffee, which was served in the drawing-room, there was a

short interval (mainly sustained by Pip and Wolf) of conversation;

rather highly spiced and strongly seasoned. When it flagged, Jonas

took it up and showed considerable humour in appraising the

furniture; inquiring whether such an article was paid for; what it

had originally cost, and the like. In all of this, he was, as he

considered, desperately hard on Montague, and very demonstrative of

his own brilliant parts.

 

Some Champagne Punch gave a new though temporary fillip to the

entertainments of the evening. For after leading to some noisy

proceedings, which were not intelligible, it ended in the unsteady

departure of the two gentlemen of the world, and the slumber of Mr

Jonas upon one of the sofas.

 

As he could not be made to understand where he was, Mr Bailey

received orders to call a hackney-coach, and take him home; which

that young gentleman roused himself from an uneasy sleep in the

hall to do. It being now almost three o'clock in the morning.

 

'Is he hooked, do you think?' whispered Crimple, as himself and

partner stood in a distant part of the room observing him as he lay.

 

'Aye!' said Tigg, in the same tone. 'With a strong iron, perhaps.

Has Nadgett been here to-night?'

 

'Yes. I went out to him. Hearing you had company, he went away.'

 

'Why did he do that?'

 

'He said he would come back early in the morning, before you were

out of bed.'

 

'Tell them to be sure and send him up to my bedside. Hush! Here's

the boy! Now Mr Bailey, take this gentleman home, and see him safely

in. Hallo, here! Why Chuzzlewit, halloa!'

 

They got him upright with some difficulty, and assisted him

downstairs, where they put his hat upon his head, and tumbled him

into the coach. Mr Bailey, having shut him in, mounted the box

beside the coachman, and smoked his cigar with an air of particular

satisfaction; the undertaking in which he was engaged having a free

and sporting character about it, which was quite congenial to his

taste.

 

Arriving in due time at the house in the City, Mr Bailey jumped

down, and expressed the lively nature of his feelings in a knock the

like of which had probably not been heard in that quarter since the

great fire of London. Going out into the road to observe the effect

of this feat, he saw that a dim light, previously visible at an

upper window, had been already removed and was travelling

downstairs. To obtain a foreknowledge of the bearer of this

taper, Mr Bailey skipped back to the door again, and put his eye

to the keyhole.

 

It was the merry one herself. But sadly, strangely altered! So

careworn and dejected, so faltering and full of fear; so fallen,

humbled, broken; that to have seen her quiet in her coffin would

have been a less surprise.

 

She set the light upon a bracket in the hall, and laid her hand upon

her heart; upon her eyes; upon her burning head. Then she came on

towards the door with such a wild and hurried step that Mr Bailey

lost his self-possession, and still had his eye where the keyhole

had been, when she opened it.

 

'Aha!' said Mr Bailey, with an effort. 'There you are, are you?

What's the matter? Ain't you well, though?'

 

In the midst of her astonishment as she recognized him in his

altered dress, so much of her old smile came back to her face that

Bailey was glad. But next moment he was sorry again, for he saw

tears standing in her poor dim eyes.

 

'Don't be frightened,' said Bailey. 'There ain't nothing the matter.

I've brought home Mr Chuzzlewit. He ain't ill. He's only a little

swipey, you know.' Mr Bailey reeled in his boots, to express

intoxication.

 

'Have you come from Mrs Todgers's?' asked Merry, trembling.

 

'Todgers's, bless you! No!' cried Mr Bailey. 'I haven't got nothin,

to do with Todgers's. I cut that connection long ago. He's been a-

dining with my governor at the west-end. Didn't you know he was a-

coming to see us?'

 

'No,' she said, faintly.

 

'Oh yes! We're heavy swells too, and so I tell you. Don't you come

out, a-catching cold in your head. I'll wake him!' Mr Bailey

expressing in his demeanour a perfect confidence that he could carry

him in with ease, if necessary, opened the coach door, let down the

steps, and giving Jonas a shake, cried 'We've got home, my flower!

Tumble up, then!'

 

He was so far recovered as to be able to respond to this appeal, and

to come stumbling out of the coach in a heap, to the great hazard of

Mr Bailey's person. When he got upon the pavement, Mr Bailey first

butted at him in front, and then dexterously propped him up behind;

and having steadied him by these means, he assisted him into the

house.

 

'You go up first with the light,' said Bailey to Mr Jonas, 'and

we'll foller. Don't tremble so. He won't hurt you. When I've had

a drop too much, I'm full of good natur myself.'

 

She went on before; and her husband and Bailey, by dint of tumbling

over each other, and knocking themselves about, got at last into the

sitting-room above stairs, where Jonas staggered into a seat.

 

'There!' said Mr Bailey. 'He's all right now. You ain't got

nothing to cry for, bless you! He's righter than a trivet!'

 

The ill-favoured brute, with dress awry, and sodden face, and

rumpled hair, sat blinking and drooping, and rolling his idiotic

eyes about, until, becoming conscious by degrees, he recognized his

wife, and shook his fist at her.

 

'Ah!' cried Mr Bailey, squaring his arms with a sudden emotion.

'What, you're wicious, are you? Would you though! You'd better

not!'

 

'Pray, go away!' said Merry. 'Bailey, my good boy, go home.

Jonas!' she said; timidly laying her hand upon his shoulder, and

bending her head down over him. 'Jonas!'

 

'Look at her!' cried Jonas, pushing her off with his extended arm.

'Look here! Look at her! Here's a bargain for a man!'

 

'Dear Jonas!'

 

'Dear Devil!' he replied, with a fierce gesture. 'You're a pretty

clog to be tied to a man for life, you mewling, white-faced cat!

Get out of my sight!'

 

'I know you don't mean it, Jonas. You wouldn't say it if you were

sober.'

 

With affected gayety she gave Bailey a piece of money, and again

implored him to be gone. Her entreaty was so earnest, that the boy

had not the heart to stay there. But he stopped at the bottom of

the stairs, and listened.

 

'I wouldn't say it if I was sober!' retorted Jonas. 'You know

better. Have I never said it when I was sober?'

 

'Often, indeed!' she answered through her tears.

 

'Hark ye!' cried Jonas, stamping his foot upon the ground. 'You

made me bear your pretty humours once, and ecod I'll make you bear

mine now. I always promised myself I would. I married you that I

might. I'll know who's master, and who's slave!'

 

'Heaven knows I am obedient!' said the sobbing girl. 'Much more so

than I ever thought to be!'

 

Jonas laughed in his drunken exultation. 'What! you're finding it

out, are you! Patience, and you will in time! Griffins have claws,

my girl. There's not a pretty slight you ever put upon me, nor a

pretty trick you ever played me, nor a pretty insolence you ever

showed me, that I won't pay back a hundred-fold. What else did I

marry you for? YOU, too!' he said, with coarse contempt.

 

It might have softened him--indeed it might--to hear her turn a

little fragment of a song he used to say he liked; trying, with

a heart so full, to win him back.

 

'Oho!' he said, 'you're deaf, are you? You don't hear me, eh? So

much the better for you. I hate you. I hate myself, for having,

been fool enough to strap a pack upon my back for the pleasure of

treading on it whenever I choose. Why, things have opened to me,

now, so that I might marry almost where I liked. But I wouldn't;

I'd keep single. I ought to be single, among the friends I know.

Instead of that, here I am, tied like a log to you. Pah! Why do

you show your pale face when I come home? Am I never to forget you?'

 

'How late it is!' she said cheerfully, opening the shutter after an

interval of silence. 'Broad day, Jonas!'

 

'Broad day or black night, what do I care!' was the kind rejoinder.

 

'The night passed quickly, too. I don't mind sitting up, at all.'

 

'Sit up for me again, if you dare!' growled Jonas.

 

'I was reading,' she proceeded, 'all night long. I began when you

went out, and read till you came home again. The strangest story,

Jonas! And true, the book says. I'll tell it you to-morrow.'

 

'True, was it?' said Jonas, doggedly.

 

'So the book says.'

 

'Was there anything in it, about a man's being determined to conquer

his wife, break her spirit, bend her temper, crush all her humours

like so many nut-shells--kill her, for aught I know?' said Jonas.

 

'No. Not a word,' she answered quickly.

 

'Oh!' he returned. 'That'll be a true story though, before long;

for all the book says nothing about it. It's a lying book, I see.

A fit book for a lying reader. But you're deaf. I forgot that.'

 

There was another interval of silence; and the boy was stealing

away, when he heard her footstep on the floor, and stopped. She

went up to him, as it seemed, and spoke lovingly; saying that she

would defer to him in everything and would consult his wishes and

obey them, and they might be very happy if he would be gentle with

her. He answered with an imprecation, and--

 

Not with a blow? Yes. Stern truth against the base-souled villain;

with a blow.

 

No angry cries; no loud reproaches. Even her weeping and her sobs

were stifled by her clinging round him. She only said, repeating

it in agony of heart, how could he, could he, could he--and lost

utterance in tears.

 

Oh woman, God beloved in old Jerusalem! The best among us need

deal lightly with thy faults, if only for the punishment thy nature

will endure, in bearing heavy evidence against us, on the Day of

Judgment!

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-NINE Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-NINE

Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-NINE
IN WHICH SOME PEOPLE ARE PRECOCIOUS, OTHERS PROFESSIONAL, AND OTHERS MYSTERIOUS; ALL IN THEIR SEVERAL WAYSIt may have been the restless remembrance of what he had seen andheard overnight, or it may have been no deeper mental operation thanthe discovery that he had nothing to do, which caused Mr Bailey, onthe following afternoon, to feel particularly disposed for agreeablesociety, and prompted him to pay a visit to his friend PollSweedlepipe. On the little bell giving clamorous notice of a visitor's approach(for Mr Bailey came in at the door with a lunge, to get as muchsound out of the bell as possible), Poll
PREVIOUS BOOKS

Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

Martin Chuzzlewit - Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
SHOWING THAT OLD FRIENDS MAY NOT ONLY APPEAR WITH NEW FACES, BUT INFALSE COLOURS. THAT PEOPLE ARE PRONE TO BITE, AND THAT BITERS MAYSOMETIMES BE BITTEN.Mr Bailey, Junior--for the sporting character, whilom of generalutility at Todgers's, had now regularly set up in life under thatname, without troubling himself to obtain from the legislature adirect licence in the form of a Private Bill, which of all kinds andclasses of bills is without exception the most unreasonable in itscharges--Mr Bailey, Junior, just tall enough to be seen by aninquiring eye, gazing indolently at society from beneath the apronof his master's cab, drove
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT