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 THE 
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB, 
 
 BY CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 FORTY-THREE ILLUSTRATIONS, BY R. SEYMOUR AND 
 PHIZ. 
 
 LONDON : 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND. 
 
 MDCCCXXXVII.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, 
 WHITEFRIARS.
 
 MR. SERJEANT TALFOURD, M. P., 
 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR, 
 
 If I had not enjoyed the happiness of your private friend- 
 ship, I should still have dedicated this work to you, as a slight and 
 most inadequate acknowledgment of the inestimable services you are 
 rendering to the literature of your country, and of the lasting benefits 
 you will confer upon the authors of this and succeeding generations, by 
 securing to them and their descendants a permanent interest in the 
 copyright of their works. 
 
 Many a fevered head and palsied hand will gather new vigour in 
 the hour of sickness and distress from your excellent exertions ; many 
 a widowed mother and orphan child, who would otherwise reap nothing 
 from the fame of departed genius but its too frequent legacy of poverty 
 and suffering, will bear, in their altered condition, higher testimony to 
 the value of your labours than the most lavish encomiums from lip or 
 pen could ever afford. 
 
 Beside such tributes, any avowal of feeling from me, on the question 
 to which you have devoted the combined advantages of your eloquence, 
 character, and genius, would be powerless indeed. Nevertheless, in 
 thus publicly expressing my deep and grateful sense of your efforts in 
 
 2031423
 
 VI DEDICATION. 
 
 behalf of English literature, and of those who devote themselves to the 
 most precarious of all pursuits, I do but imperfect justice to my own 
 strong feelings on the subject, if I do no service to you. 
 
 These few sentences would have comprised all I should have had to 
 say, if I had only known you in your public character. On the score 
 of private feeling, let me add one word more. 
 
 Accept the dedication of this book, my dear Sir, as a mark of my 
 warmest regard and esteem as a memorial of the most gratifying 
 friendship I have ever contracted, and of some of the pleasantest hours 
 I have ever spent as a token of my fervent admiration of every fine 
 quality of your head and heart as an assurance of the truth and sin- 
 cerity with which I shall ever be, 
 
 My dear Sir, 
 Most faithfully and sincerely yours, 
 
 CHARLES DICKENS. 
 
 48, DOUGHTY STREET, 
 
 SEPTEMBER 27, 1837.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE author's object in this work, was to place before the 
 reader a constant succession of characters and incidents ; to paint 
 them in as vivid colours as he could command ; and to render 
 them, at the same time, life-like and amusing. 
 
 Deferring to the judgment of others in the outset of the un- 
 dertaking, he adopted the machinery of the club, which was 
 suggested as that best adapted to his purpose : but, finding that 
 it tended rather to his embarrassment than otherwise, he gra- 
 dually abandoned it, considering it a matter of very little impor- 
 tance to the work whether strictly epic justice were awarded to 
 the club, or not. 
 
 The publication of the book in monthly numbers, containing 
 only thirty-two pages in each, rendered it an object of para- 
 mount importance that, while the different incidents were linked 
 together by a chain of interest strong enough to prevent their 
 appearing unconnected or impossible, the general design should 
 be so simple as to sustain no injury from this detached and 
 desultory form of publication, extending over no fewer than
 
 twenty months. In short, it was necessary or it appeared so 
 to the author that every number should be, to a certain extent, 
 complete in itself, and yet that the whole twenty numbers, when 
 collected, should form one tolerably harmonious whole, each 
 leading to the other by a gentle and not unnatural progress of 
 adventure. 
 
 It is obvious that in a work published with a view to such 
 considerations, no artfully interwoven or ingeniously complicated 
 plot can with reason be expected. The author ventures to 
 express a hope that he has successfully surmounted the dif- 
 ficulties of his undertaking. And if it be objected to the 
 Pickwick Papers, that they are a mere series of adventures, 
 in which the scenes are ever changing, and the characters come 
 and go like the men and women we encounter in the real world, 
 he can only content himself with the reflection, that they claim 
 to be nothing else, and that the same objection has been made 
 to the works of some of the greatest novelists in the English 
 language. 
 
 The following pages have been written from time to time, 
 almost as the periodical occasion arose. Having been written 
 for the most part in the society of a very dear young friend 
 who is now no more, they are connected in the author's mind 
 at once with the happiest period of his life, and with its saddest 
 and most severe affliction. 
 
 It is due to the gentleman, whose designs accompany the 
 letter-press, to state that the interval has been so short between 
 the production of each number in manuscript and its appear- 
 in print, that the greater portion of the Illustrations have
 
 been executed by the artist from the author's mere verbal de- 
 scription of what he intended to write. 
 
 The almost unexampled kindness and favour with which these 
 papers have been received by the public will be a never-failing 
 source of gratifying and pleasant recollection while their author 
 lives. He trusts that, throughout this book, no incident or 
 expression occurs which could call a blush into the most deli- 
 cate cheek, or wound the feelings of the most sensitive per- 
 son. If any of his imperfect descriptions, while they afford 
 amusement in the perusal, should induce only one reader to 
 think better of his fellow men, and to look upon the brighter 
 and more kindly side of human nature, he would indeed be 
 proud and happy to have led to such a result.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER I. The Pickwickians ...... 1 
 
 CHAP. II The first Day's Journey, and the first Evening's Adventures ; 
 
 with their consequences .... 5 
 
 CHAP. III. A new Acquaintance. The Stroller's Tale A disagreeable 
 
 Interruption ; and an unpleasant Rencontre . . . .25 
 
 CHAP. IV. A Field day and Bivouac More new Friends ; and an 
 
 Invitation to the Country ...... 34 
 
 CHAP. V. A short one showing, among other matters, how Mr. Pick- 
 wick undertook to drive, and Mr. Winkle to ride ; and how they both 
 did it . . 43 
 
 CHAP. VI. An old-fashioned Card Party The Clergyman's Verses 
 
 The Story of the Convict's Return . . . . .51 
 
 CHAP. VII. How Mr. Winkle, instead of shooting at the Pigeon and kill- 
 ing the Crow, shot at the Crow and wounded the Pigeon; how the 
 Dingley Dell Cricket Club played all Muggleton, and how all Muggle- 
 ton dined at the Dingley Dell expense : with other interesting and in- 
 structive matters ....... 62 
 
 CHAP. VIII. Strongly illustrative of the Position, that the course of true 
 
 love is not a Railway ....... 73 
 
 CHAP. IX. A Discovery and a Chase .... .83 
 
 CHAP. X. Clearing up all Doubts (if any existed) of the Disinterestedness 
 
 of Mr. Jingle's Character ...... 90 
 
 CHAP. XI. Involving another Journey, and an Antiquarian Discovery. 
 Recording Mr. Pickwick's determination to be present at an Election ; 
 and containing a Manuscript of the old Clergyman's . . . 101 
 
 CHAP. XII. Descriptive of a very important Proceeding on the part of 
 
 Mr. Pickwick ; no less an epoch in his Life than in this History . 1 15 
 
 CHAP. XIII. Some Account of Eatanswill ; of the state of Parties there- 
 in ; and of the Election of a Member to serve in Parliament for that 
 ancient, loyal, and patriotic Borough . . . . .120
 
 l CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 CHAP. XIV. Comprising a brief Description of the Company at the Pea- 
 cock assembled ; and a Tale told by a Bagman . . .134 
 
 CHAP. XV. In which is given a faithful Portraiture of two distin- 
 guished Persons ; and an accurate description of a Public Breakfast 
 in their House and Grounds : which Public Breakfast leads to the Re- 
 cognition of an old Acquaintance, and the commencement of another 
 Chapter .147 
 
 CHAP. XVI. Too full of Adventure to be briefly described . .158 
 
 CHAP. XVII. Showing that an Attack of Rheumatism, in some cases, 
 
 acts as a Quickener to Inventive Genius . . . .172 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. Briefly illustrative of two Points : First, the Power of 
 
 Hysterics, and, Secondly, the Force of Circumstances . . 179 
 
 CHAP. XIX. A pleasant Day, with an unpleasant Termination . 187 
 
 CHAP. XX Showing how Dodson and Fogg were Men of Business, and 
 
 their Clerks Men of Pleasure ; and how an affecting Interview took 
 place between Mr. Weller and his long-lost Parent ; showing also, 
 what Choice Spirits assembled at the Magpie and Stump, and what a 
 capital Chapter the next one will be . . . .198 
 
 CHAP. XXL In which the old Man launches forth into his favourite 
 
 theme, and relates a Story about a queer Client . . .211 
 
 CHAP. XXII Mr. Pickwick journeys to Ipswich, and meets with a 
 
 romantic Adventure with a middle-aged Lady in Yellow Curl Papers 224 
 
 CHAP. XXIIL In which Mr. Samuel Weller begins to devote his energies 
 
 to the Return Match between Himself and Mr. Trotter . . 236 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the 
 middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pickwickians within 
 the Grasp of the Law ....... 243 
 
 CHAP. XXV. Showing, among a variety of pleasant 'matters, how ma- 
 jestic and impartial Mr. Nupkins was ; and how Mr. Weller returned 
 Mr. Job Trotter's Shuttlecock, as heavily as it came. With another 
 matter, which will be found in its place .... 255 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. Which contains a brief account of the Progress of the 
 
 Action of Bardell against Pickwick . . . . .269 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. Samuel Weller makes a Pilgrimage to Dorking, and 
 
 beholds his Mother-in-law . . . . . .275 
 
 CHAP. XXVIIL A good-humoured Christmas Chapter, containing an ac- 
 count of a Wedding, and some other Sports beside, which, although in 
 their way even as good customs as Marriage itself, are not quite so 
 religiously kept up, in these degenerate times . . .282 
 
 CHAP. XXVIII *.Th Story of the Goblins who stole a Sexton . 299
 
 CONTENTS. Xiii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAP. XXIX How the Pickwickians made and cultivated the Ac- 
 quaintance of a couple of nice Young Men belonging to one of the 
 Liberal Professions ; how they disported themselves on the Ice ; and 
 how their Visit came to a conclusion .... 307 
 
 CHAP. XXX. Which is all about the Law, and sundry Great Authorities 
 
 learned therein . . . . . . .316 
 
 CHAP. XXXI Describes, far more fully than the Court Newsman ever 
 did, a Bachelor's Party, given by Mr. Bob Sawyer at his Lodgings in 
 the Borough . ....... 328 
 
 CHAP. XXXII. Mr. Weller the elder delivers some Critical Sentiments 
 respecting Literary Composition ; and, assisted by his son Samuel, 
 pays a small Instalment of Retaliation to the account of the Reverend 
 Gentleman with the Red Nose ..... 339 
 
 CHAP. XXXIII. Is wholly devoted to a full and faithful Report of the 
 
 memorable Trial of Bardell against Pickwick . . .352 
 
 CHAP. XXXIV In which Mr. Pickwick thinks he had better go to Bath; 
 
 and goes accordingly . . . . . . .371 
 
 CHAP. XXXV The chief features of which will be found to be an au- 
 thentic Version of the Legend of Prince Bladud, and a most extraor- 
 dinary Calamity that befel Mr. Winkle . . .383 
 
 CHAP. XXXVI. Honourably accounts for Mr. Weller's Absence, by de- 
 scribing a Soiree to which he was invited and went. Also relates how 
 he was entrusted by Mr. Pickwick with a Private Mission of Delicacy 
 and Importance .... . 392 
 
 CHAP. XXXVII. How Mr. Winkle, when he stepped out of the Frying- 
 pan, walked gently and comfortably into the Fire . . . 403 
 
 CHAP. XXXVIII Mr. Samuel Weller, being entrusted with a Mission of 
 
 Love, proceeds to execute it ; with what success will hereinafter appear 413 
 
 CHAP. XXXIX. Introduces Mr. Pickwick to a new, and it is hoped not 
 
 uninteresting scene, in the great Drama of Life . . . 425 
 
 CHAP. XL. What befel Mr. Pickwick when he got into the Fleet ; what 
 
 Debtors he saw there ; and how he passed the Night . . 435 
 
 CHAP. XLI Illustrative, like the preceding one, of the old Proverb, that 
 
 Adversity brings a Man acquainted with strange Bed-fellows. Like- 
 wise containing Mr. Pickwick's extraordinary and startling announce- 
 ment to Mr. Samuel Weller . . . . . .445 
 
 CHAP. XLII.i Showing how Mr. Samuel Weller got into difficulties . 456 
 
 CHAP. XLIII. Treats of divers little matters which occurred in the Fleet, 
 and of Mr. Winkle's mysterious Behaviour ; and shows how the poor 
 Chancery Prisoner obtained his Release at last . . . 467
 
 XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 CHAP. XLIV. Descriptive of an affecting Interview between Mr. Samuel 
 Weller and a Family Party. Mr. Pickwick makes a Tour of the dimi- 
 nutive World he inhabits, and resolves to mix with it in future as little 
 as possible ........ 478 
 
 CHAP. XLV. Records a touching Act of delicate Feeling, not unmixed 
 
 with Pleasantry, achieved and performed by Messrs. Dodson and Fogg. 491 
 
 CHAP. XLVI. Is chiefly devoted to matters of business, and the tem- 
 poral Advantage of Dodson and Fogg Mr. Winkle re-appears under 
 extraordinary circumstances ; and Mr. Pickwick's Benevolence proves 
 stronger than his Obstinacy ...... 499 
 
 CHAP. XLVII. Relates how Mr. Pickwick, with the assistance of Samuel 
 Weller, essayed to soften the heart of Mr. Benjamin Allen, and to 
 mollify the wrath of Mr. Robert Sawyer . . . .508 
 
 CHAP. XLVIIL Containing the Story of the Bagman's Uncle . . 518 
 
 CHAP. XLIX. How Mr. Pickwick sped upon his Mission, and how he 
 
 was reinforced in the Outset by a most unexpected Auxiliary . 531 
 
 CHAP. L. In which Mr. Pickwick encounters an old Acquaintance, to 
 which fortunate circumstance the Reader is mainly indebted for matter 
 of thrilling interest herein set down, concerning two great Public Men 
 of might and power . ..... 542 
 
 CHAP. LI. Involving a serious Change in the Weller family, and the 
 
 untimely downfall of the red-nosed Mr. Stiggins . . . 553 
 
 CHAP. LII. Comprising the final exit of Mr. Jingle and Job Trotter; 
 with a Great Morning of Business in Gray's Inn Square. Concluding 
 with a Double Knock at Mr. Perker's door . . . .563 
 
 CHAP. LIII. Containing some Partumlars relative to the Double Knock, 
 and other Matters, among which certain Interesting Disclosures 
 relative to Mr. Snodgrass and a Young Lady are by no means 
 irrelevant to this History ...... 573 
 
 CHAP. LIV. Mr. Solomon Pell, assisted by a Select Committee of Coach- 
 men, arranges the Affairs of the elder Mr. Weller . . .585 
 
 CHAP. LV An Important Conference takes place between Mr. Pickwick 
 and Samuel Weller, at which his Parent assists. An old Gentleman in 
 a snuff-coloured Suit arrives unexpectedly . 594 
 
 CHAP. LVI. In which the Pickwick Club is finally dissolved, and every- 
 thing concluded to the satisfaction of ererybody . .604
 
 DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. 
 
 The under-mentioned Plates, which have no annexed references, are to be placed 
 in the following order ,- 
 
 Mr. Winkle entering the Sedan Chair, (No. 13.) . to face page 391 
 
 The Card Table at Bath, (No. 13.) , 382 
 
 The Drinking Party at Bob Sawyer's (No. 14.) 409 
 
 Mr. Pickwick Sitting for his Portrait, (No. 14.) 434 
 
 Mr. Mivins Dancing in the Warden's Room, (No. 15.) . 441 
 
 Discovery of Mr. Jingle in the Fleet, (No. 15.) . . 453 
 
 Mr. Stiggins discoursing, (No. 1 6.) , 484 
 
 Mrs. Bardell recognising Mr. Pickwick, (No. 16.; . . ,, 498 
 
 Mr. Winkle disclosing his Marriage, on his knes, (No. 17.) ,, 504 
 
 The Bagman's Uncle, (No. 17.) , 523 
 
 Bob Sawyer on the Roof of the Chaise, (No. 18.) . . 533 
 
 The Combat between the Rival Editors, (No. 18.) . . 553 
 
 The Fat Boy and Mary (No. 19 and 20.) .... , 579 
 
 The Coachmen Drinking the Toast (Nos. 19 and 20.) . . 590
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 1, line 9, for 1817, read 1827. 
 
 Page 185, line 25, for 1830, read 1827. 
 
 Page 202,.line 30, for 1830, read 1827. 
 
 Page 278, line 40, for the elder Mr. Samuel, read the elder Mr. Weller. 
 
 Page 342, line 5, for S. Vcller, Esq., Senior, read Tony Teller, Esq. 
 
 Page 54], line 12, for Sun Court, Cornhill, read George Yard, Lombard Street.
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS 
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE PICKWICKIANS. 
 
 THE first ray of light which illumines the gloom, and converts into a 
 dazzling brilliancy that obscurity in which the earlier history of the public 
 career of the immortal Pickwick would appear to be involved, is derived 
 from the perusal of the following entry in the Transactions of the Pick- 
 wick Club, which the editor of these papers feels the highest pleasure 
 in laying before his readers, as a proof of the careful attention, inde- 
 fatigable assiduity, and nice discrimination, with which his search among 
 the multifarious documents confided to him has been conducted. 
 
 " May 12, 1817. Joseph Smiggers, Esq., P. V. P. M. P. C.* pre- 
 siding. The following resolutions unanimously agreed to. 
 
 " That this Association has heard read, with feelings of unmingled 
 satisfaction, and unqualified approval, the paper communicated by Samuel 
 Pickwick, Esq., G. C. M. P. C.f entitled " Speculations on the Source of 
 the Hampstead Ponds, with Some Observations on the Theory of Tittle- 
 bats ;" and that this Association does hereby return its warmest thanks 
 to the said Samuel Pickwick, Esq., G. C. M. P. C. for the same. 
 
 " That while this Association is deeply sensible of the advantages 
 which must accrue to the cause of science, from the production to which 
 they have just adverted, no less than from the unwearied researches of 
 Samuel Pickwick, Esq., G. C. M. P. C. in Hornsey, Highgate, Brixton, 
 and Cainberwell; they cannot but entertain a lively sense of the ines- 
 timable benefits which must inevitably result from carrying the specu- 
 lations of that learned man into a wider field, from extending his 
 travels, and consequently enlarging his sphere of observation ; to the 
 advancement of knowledge, and the diffusion of learning 1 . 
 
 " That with the view, just mentioned, this Association has taken 
 into its serious consideration a proposal, emanating from the aforesaid 
 Samuel Pickwick, Esq., G. C. M. P. C., and three other Pickwickians 
 hereinafter named, for forming a new branch of United Pickwickians 
 under the title of The Corresponding Society of the Pickwick Club. 
 
 * Perpetual Vice President Member Pickwick Club. ED. 
 f- General Chairman Member Pickwick Club. ED.
 
 2 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " That the said proposal has received the sanction and approval of 
 this Association. 
 
 " That the Corresponding Society of the Pickwick Club is therefore 
 hereby constituted ; and that Samuel Pickwick, Esq. G.C. M.P.C., 
 Tracy Tupman, Esq., M.P.C., Augustus Snodgrass, Esq., M.P.C., 
 and Nathaniel Winkle, Esq., M.P.C., are hereby nominated and ap- 
 pointed members of the same : and that they be requested to forward, 
 from time to time, authenticated accounts of their journeys and inves- 
 tigations ; of their observations of character and manners ; and of the 
 whole of their adventures, together with all tales and papers, to which 
 local scenery or associations may give rise, to the Pickwick Club, 
 stationed in London. 
 
 " That this association cordially recognises the principle of every 
 member of the Corresponding Society defraying his own travelling 
 expenses ; and that it sees no objection whatever to the members of 
 the said society pursuing their inquiries for any length of time they 
 please, upon the same terms. 
 
 " That the members of the aforesaid Corresponding Society, be, and are, 
 hereby informed, that their proposal to pay the postage of their letters, and 
 the carriage of their parcels, has been deliberated upon, by this Associa- 
 tion. That this Association considers such proposal worthy of the 
 great minds from which it emanated ; and that it hereby signifies its 
 perfect acquiescence therein." 
 
 A casual observer, adds the secretary, to whose notes we are indebted 
 for the following account a casual observer might possibly have 
 remarked nothing extraordinary in the bald head, and circular spectacles, 
 which were intently turned towards his (the secretary's) face, during 
 the reading of the above resolutions. To those who knew that the 
 gigantic brain of Pickwick was working beneath that forehead, and that 
 the beaming eyes of Pickwick were twinkling behind those glasses, 
 the sight was indeed an interesting one. There sat the man who had 
 traced to their source the mighty ponds of Hampstead, and agitated 
 the scientific world with his Theory of Tittlebats, as calm and unmoved 
 as the deep waters of the one on a frosty day, or as a solitary specimen 
 of the other, in the inmost recesses of an earthen jar. And how 
 much more interesting did the spectacle become, when, starting 
 into full life and animation, as a simultaneous call for " Pickwick " 
 burst from his followers, that illustrious man slowly mounted 
 into the Windsor chair, on which he had been previously seated, 
 and addressed the club himself had founded. What a study for an 
 artist did that exciting scene present ! The eloquent Pickwick, with 
 one hand gracefully concealed behind his coat tails, and the other waving 
 in air to assist his glowing declamation: his elevated position revealing 
 those tights and gaiters, which, had they clothed an ordinary man, 
 might have passed without observation, but which, when Pickwick 
 clothed them if we may use the expression inspired involuntary 
 awe and respect ; surrounded by the men who had volunteered to share 
 the perils of his travels, and who were destined to participate in the 
 glories of his discoveries. On his right hand, sat Mr. Tracy Tupman ; 
 the too susceptible Tupman, who to the wisdom and experience of
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 3 
 
 maturer years superadded the enthusiasm and ardour of a boy, in the 
 most interesting and pardonable of human weaknesses love. Time 
 and feeding had expanded that once romantic form ; the black silk waist- 
 coat had become more and more developed; inch by inh had the gold 
 watch-chain beneath it disappeared from within the range of Tupman's 
 vision ; and gradually had the capacious chin encroached upon the 
 borders of the white cravat, but the soul of Tupman had known no change 
 admiration of the fair sex was still its ruling passion. On the left of 
 his great leader sat the poetic Snodgrass, and near him again the sport- 
 ing Winkle, the former poetically enveloped in a mysterious blue 
 cloak with a canine-skin collar, and the latter communicating additional 
 lustre to a new green shooting coat, plaid neckerchief, and closely fitted 
 drabs. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's oration upon this occasion, together with the debate 
 thereon, is entered on the Transactions of the Club. Both bear a strong 
 affinity to the discussions of other celebrated bodies; and, as it is always 
 interesting to trace a resemblance between the proceedings of great men, 
 we transfer the entry to these pages. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick observed (says the Secretary) that fume was dear to 
 the heart of every man. Poetic fame was dear to the heart of his friend 
 Snodgrass, the fame of conquest was equally dear to his friend Tupman ; 
 and the desire of earning fame, in the sports of the field, the air, and 
 the water, was uppermost in the breast of his friend Winkle. He 
 (Mr. Pidkwick) would not deny, that he was influenced by human pas- 
 sions, and human feelings, (cheers) possibly by human weaknesses 
 (loud cries of " No") ; but this he would say, that if ever the fire of 
 self-importance broke out in his bosom the desire to benefit the 
 human race in preference, effectually quenched it. The praise of man- 
 kind was his Swing; philanthropy was his insurance office. (Vehement 
 cheering.) He had felt some pride he acknowledged it freely ; and 
 let his enemies make the most of it he had felt some pride when he 
 presented his Tittlebatian Theory to the world ; it might be celebrated 
 or it might not. (A cry of " It is," and great cheering.) He would 
 take the assertion of that honourable Pickwickian whose voice he had 
 just heard it was celebrated ; but if the fame of that treatise were to 
 extend to the farthest confines of the known world, the pride with which 
 he should reflect on the authorship of that production, would be as no- 
 thing compared with the pride with which he looked around him, on 
 this, the proudest moment of his existence. (Cheers.) He was a 
 humble individual. (No, no.) Still he could not but feel that they 
 had selected him for a service of great honour, and of some danger. 
 Travelling was in a troubled state, and the minds of coachmen were 
 unsettled. Let them look abroad, and contemplate the scenes which 
 wAe enacting around them. Stage coaches were upsetting in all direc- 
 tions, horses \vere bolting, boats were overturning, and boilers were 
 bursting. (Cheers a voice " No.") No ! (Cheers.) Let that 
 honourable Pickwickian who cried " No " so loudly, come forward and 
 deny it, if he could. (Cheers.) Who was it that cried " No?'' (En- 
 thusiastic cheering.) Was it some vain and disappointed man he 
 would not say haberdasher (loud cheers)^-who, jealous of the praise
 
 4 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 which had been perhaps undeservedly bestowed on his (Mr. Pick- 
 wick's) researches, and smarting under the censure which had been 
 heaped upon his own feeble attempts at rivalry, now took this vile and 
 calumnious mode of 
 
 " Mr. BLOTTON, (of Aldgate,) rose to order. Did the honourable 
 Pickwickian allude to him ? (Cries of " Order," " Chair," " Yes," 
 " No," " Go on," " Leave off," &c.) 
 
 " Mr. PICKWICK would not put up to be put down by clamour. He 
 had alluded to the honourable gentleman. (Great excitement). 
 
 " Mr. BLOTTON would only say then, that he repelled the hon. 
 gent's false and scurrilous accusation, with profound contempt. (Great 
 cheering.) The hon. gent, was a humbug. (Immense confusion, 
 and loud cries of " chair " and " order.") 
 
 " Mr. A. SNODGRASS rose to order. He threw himself upon the 
 chair. (Hear.) He wished to know, whether this disgraceful contest 
 between two members of that club, should be allowed to continue. 
 (Hear, hear.) 
 
 "The CHAIRMAN was quite sure the hon. Pickwickian would with- 
 draw the expression he had just made use of. 
 
 " Mr. BLOTTON, with all possible respect for the chair, was quite 
 sure he would not. 
 
 "The CHAIRMAN felt it his imperative duty to demand of the 
 honourable gentleman, whether he had used the expression which had 
 just escaped him, in a common sense. 
 
 " Mr. BLOTTON had no hesitation in saying, that he had not he 
 had used the word in its Pickwickian sense. (Hear, hear.) He was 
 bound to acknowledge, that, personally, he entertained the highest 
 regard and esteem for the honourable gentleman ; he had merely 
 considered him a humbug in a Pickwickian point of view. (Hear, 
 hear.) 
 
 "Mr. PICKWICK felt much gratified by the fair, candid, and full 
 explanation of his honourable friend. He begged it to be at once 
 understood, that his own observations had been merely intended to 
 bear a Pickwickian construction. (Cheers.) " 
 
 Here the entry terminates, as we have no doubt the debate did also, 
 after arriving at such a highly satisfactory, and intelligible point. 
 We have no official statement of the facts, which the reader wilt find 
 recorded in the next chapter, but they have been carefully collated 
 from letters and other MS. authorities, so unquestionably genuine, 
 as to justify their narration in a connected form.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FIRST DAY'S JOURNEY, AND THE FIRST EVENING'S 
 ADVENTURES; WITH THEIR CONSEQUENCES. 
 
 THAT punctual servant of all work, the sun, had just risen, and 
 begun to strike a light on the morning of the thirteenth of May, one 
 thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven, when Mr. Samuel Pickwick 
 hurst like another sun from his slumhers ; threw open his chamber 
 window, and looked out upon the world beneath. Goswell-street was at 
 his feet, Goswell-street was on his right hand as far as the eye could 
 reach, Goswell-street extended on his left; and the opposite side of 
 Goswell-street was over the way. " Such," thought Mr. Pickwick, " are 
 the narrow views of those philosophers who, content with examining 
 the things that lie before them, look not to the truths which are hidden 
 beyond. As well might I be content to gaze on Goswell-street for ever, 
 without one effort to penetrate to the hidden countries which on every 
 side surround it." And having given vent to this beautiful reflection, 
 Mr. Pickwick proceeded to put himself into his clothes ; and his clothes 
 into his portmanteau. Great men are seldom over scrupulous in the 
 arrangement of their attire; the operation of shaving, dressing, and 
 coffee-imbibing was soon performed : and, in another hour, Mr. 
 Pickwick, with his portmanteau in his hand, his telescope in his great- 
 coat pocket, and his note-book in his waistcoat, ready for the reception of 
 any discoveries worthy of being noted down, had arrived at the coach 
 stand in Saint Martin's- le-Grand. 
 
 ' Cab ! " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Here you are, Sir," shouted a strange specimen of the human race, 
 in a sackcloth coat, and apron of the same, who with a brass label and 
 number round his neck, looked as if he were catalogued in some collec- 
 tion of rarities. This was the waterman. " Here you are, Sir. Now, 
 then, fust cab ! " And the first cab having been fetched from the 
 public house, where he had been smoking his first pipe, Mr. Pickwick 
 and his portmanteau were thrown into the vehicle. 
 
 " Golden Cross," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Only a bob's vorth, Tommy," cried the driver, sulkily, for the 
 information of his friend the waterman, as the cab drove off. 
 
 " How old is that horse, my friend?" enquired Mr. Pickwick, rubbing 
 his nose with the shilling he had reserved for the fare. 
 
 " Forty-two," replied the driver, eyeing him askant. 
 
 " What ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, laying his hand upon his note- 
 book. The driver reiterated his former statement. Mr. Pickwick 
 looked very hard at the man's face, but his features were immoveable, 
 so he noted down the fact forthwith. 
 
 " And how long do you keep him out at a time ? " inquired Mr. 
 Pickwick, searching for further information.
 
 6 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Two or three veeks," replied the man. 
 
 " Weeks !" said Mr. Pickwick in astonishment and out came the 
 note-book again. 
 
 " He lives at Pentonwil when he 's at home," observed the driver, 
 coolly, " but we seldom takes him home, on account of his veakness." 
 
 " On account of his weakness ;" reiterated the perplexed Mr. Pick- 
 wick. 
 
 " He always falls down, when he's took out o' the cab," continued the 
 driver, " but when he 's in it, we bears him up werry tight, and takes 
 him in werry short, so as he can't werry well fall down, and we've got a 
 pair o' precious large wheels on ; so ven he does move, they run after 
 him, and he must go on he can't help it." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick entered every word of this statement in his note-book, 
 with the view of communicating it to the club, as a singular instance of 
 the tenacity of life in horses, under trying circumstances. The entry 
 was scarcely completed when they reached the Golden Cross. Down 
 jumped the driver, and out got Mr. Pickwick. Mr. Tupman, Mr. 
 Snodgrass, and Mr. Winkle, who had been anxiously waiting the 
 arrival of their illustrious leader, crowded to welcome him. 
 
 " Here 's your fare," said Mr. Pickwick, holding out the shilling to 
 the driver. 
 
 What was the learned man's astonishment, when that unaccountable 
 person flung the money on the pavement, and requested in figurative 
 terms to be allowed the pleasure of fighting him (Mr. Pickwick) for 
 the amount ! 
 
 " You are mad," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 ; " Or drunk," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Or both," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Come on," said the cab-driver, sparring away like clock-work. 
 " Come on all four on you." 
 
 " Here's a lark I " shouted half a dozen hackney coachmen. " Go to 
 vork, Sam," and they crowded with great glee round the party. 
 
 " What's the row, Sam ?" inquired one gentleman in black calico 
 sleeves. 
 
 " Row ! " replied the cabman, " What did he want my number for? " 
 
 " I didn't want your number," said the astonished Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " What did you take it for, then ?" inquired the cabman. 
 
 " I didn't take it," said Mr. Pickwick, indignantly. 
 
 " Would any body believe," continued the cab-driver, appealing to 
 the crowd, < Would any body believe as an informer 'ud go about in a 
 man's cab, not only takin' down his number, but ev'ry word he says 
 into the bargain, (a light flashed upon. Mr. Pickwick it was the note- 
 book.)" 
 
 " Did he though ? " inquired another cabman. 
 
 " Yes, did he," replied the first "and then arter aggerawatin' me to 
 assault him, gets three witnesses here to prove it. But I'll give it him, 
 if I've six months for it. Come on,"and the cabman dashed his hat upon 
 the ground, with a reckless disregard of his own private property, and 
 knocked Mr. Pickwick's spectacles off, and followed up the attack with 
 a blow on Mr. Pickwick's nose, and another on Mr. Pickwick's chest,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 7 
 
 and a third in Mr. Snodgrass's eye, and a fourth, by way of variety, in 
 Mr. Tupman's waistcoat, and then danced into the road, and then back 
 again to the pavement, and finally dashed the whole temporary supply 
 of breath out of Mr. Winkle's body ; and all in half a dozen seconds. 
 
 " Where's an officer," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Put 'em under the pump," suggested a hot-pieman. 
 
 " You shall smart for this," gasped Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Informers," shouted the crowd. 
 
 " Come on," cried the cabman, who had been sparring without 
 cessation the whole time. 
 
 The mob had hitherto been passive spectators of the scene, but as 
 the intelligence of the Pickwickians being informers was spread among 
 them, they began to canvass with considerable vivacity the propriety of 
 enforcing the heated pastry-vendor's proposition : and there is no saying 
 what acts of personal aggression they might have committed, had not 
 the affray been unexpectedly terminated by the interposition of a new 
 comer. 
 
 " What 's the fun ?" said a rather tall thin young man, in a green 
 coat, emerging suddenly from the coach-yard. 
 
 " Informers !" shouted the crowd again. 
 
 " We are not," roared Mr. Pickwick, in a tone which, to any dis- 
 passionate listener, carried conviction with it. 
 
 " Ain't you, though, ain't you ? " said the young man, appeal- 
 ing to Mr. Pickwick, and making his way through the crowd, by the 
 infallible process of elbowing the countenances of its component 
 members. 
 
 That learned man in a few hurried words explained the real state of 
 the case. 
 
 " Come along, then," said he of the green coat, lugging Mr. Pick- 
 wick after him by main force, and talking the whole way. " Here, 
 No. 924, take your fare, and take yourself off respectable gentleman, 
 know him well none of your nonsense this way, Sir where 's 
 your friends ? all a mistake, I see never mind accidents will 
 happen best regulated families never say die down upon your luck 
 pull him up-r-put that in his pipe like the flavour damned 
 rascals." And with a lengthened string of similar broken sentences, 
 delivered with extraordinary volubility, the stranger led the way to the 
 travellers' waiting room, whither he was closely followed by Mr. 
 Pickwick and his disciples. 
 
 " Here, waiter," shouted the stranger, ringing the bell with tre- 
 mendous violence, " glasses round, brandy and water, hot and strong, 
 and sweet, and plenty, eye damaged, Sir ? Waiter ; raw beef-steak 
 for the gentleman's eye, nothing like raw beef-steak for a bruise, Sir ; 
 cold lamp-post very good, but lamp-post inconvenient damned odd 
 standing in the open street half an hour, with your eye against a lamp- 
 post eh, very good ha! ha!" And the stranger, without stopping 
 to take breath, swallowed at a draught full half a pint of the reeking 
 brandy and water, and flung himself into a chair with as much ease as 
 if nothing uncommon had occurred. 
 
 While his three companions were busily engaged in proffering their
 
 8 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 thanks to their new acquaintance, Mr. Pickwick had leisure to examine 
 his costume and appearance. 
 
 He was about the middle height, but the thinness of his body, and 
 the length of his legs, gave him the appearance of being much taller. 
 The green coat had been a smart dress garment in the days of swallow- 
 tails, but had evidently in those times adorned a much shorter man 
 than the stranger, for the soiled and faded sleeves scarcely reached to 
 his wrists. It was buttoned closely up to his chin, at the imminent 
 hazard of splitting the back ; and an old stock, without a vestige of shirt 
 collar, ornamented his neck. His scanty black trousers displayed here 
 and there those shiny patches which bespeak long service, and were 
 strapped very tightly over a pair of patched and mended shoes, as if to 
 conceal the dirty white stockings, which were nevertheless distinctly 
 visible. His long black hair escaped in negligent waves from beneath 
 each side of his old pinched up hat ; and glimpses of his bare wrist 
 might be observed, between the tops of his gloves, and the cuffs of his 
 coat sleeves. His face was thin and haggard ; but an indescribable air 
 of jaunty impudence and perfect self-possession pervaded the whole 
 man. 
 
 Such was the individual, on whom Mr. Pickwick gazed through his 
 spectacles (which he had fortunately recovered), and to whom he pro- 
 ceeded, when his friends had exhausted themselves, to return, in chosen 
 terms, his warmest thanks for his recent assistance. 
 
 " Never mind," said the stranger, cutting the address very short, 
 " said enough, no more ; smart chap that cabman handled his fives 
 well ; but if I 'd been your friend in the green jemmy damn me 
 punch his head, 'cod I would, pig's whisper pieman too, no 
 gammon." 
 
 This coherent speech was interrupted by the entrance of the 
 Rochester coachman, to announce that " The Commodore" was on the 
 point of starting. 
 
 " Commodore !" said the stranger, starting up, " my coach, place 
 booked, one outside leave you to pay for the brandy and water, 
 want change for a five, bad silver Brummagem buttons' won't do 
 no go eh ?" and he shook his head most knowingly. 
 
 Now it so happened that Mr. Pickwick and his three companions had 
 resolved to make Rochester their first halting place too ; and having 
 intimated to their new-found acquaintance that they were journeying to 
 the same city, they agreed to occupy the seat at the back of the 
 coach, where they could all sit together. 
 
 " Up with you," said the stranger, assisting Mr. Pickwick on to the 
 roof with so much precipitation, as to impair the gravity of that gen- 
 tleman's deportment very materially. 
 
 " Any luggage, Sir?" inquired the coachman. 
 
 " Who I ? Brown paper parcel here, that's all, other luggage gone by 
 water, packing-cases, nailed up big as houses heavy, heavy, damned 
 heavy," replied the stranger, as he forced into his pocket as much as 
 he could of the brown paper parcel, which presented most suspicious 
 indications of containing one shirt and a handkerchief. 
 
 " Heads, heads, take care of your heads," cried the loquacious
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 9 
 
 stranger, as they came out under the low archway, which in those days 
 formed the entrance to the coach-yard. " Terrible place dangerous 
 work other day five children mother tall lady, eating sandwiches 
 forgot the arch crash knock children look round mother's 
 head off sandwich in her hand no mouth to put it in head of a 
 family off shocking, shocking. Looking at Whitehall, Sir, fine 
 
 5 lace little window somebody else's head off there, eh, Sir? he 
 id'nt keep a sharp look-out enough either eh, sir, eh ?" 
 
 " I was ruminating," said Mr. Pickwick, " on the strange mutability 
 of human affairs." 
 
 " Ah ! I see in at the palace door one day, out at the window the 
 next. Philosopher, Sir? " 
 
 " An observer of human nature, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah, so am I. Most people are when they 've little to do and less 
 to get. Poet, Sir?" 
 
 " My friend Mr. Snodgrass has a strong poetic turn," said Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " So have I," said the stranger. " Epic poem, ten thousand lines 
 revolution of July composed it on the spot Mars by day, Apollo 
 by night, bang the field-piece, twang the lyre." 
 
 " You were present at that glorious scene, Sir ?" said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 "Present! think I was; fired a musket, fired with an idea, 
 rushed into wine shop wrote it down back again whiz, bang 
 another idea wine shop again pen and ink back again cut and 
 slash noble time, Sir. Sportsman, Sir?" abruptly turning to Mr. 
 Winkle. 
 
 " A little, Sir," replied that gentleman. 
 
 " Fine pursuit, Sir, fine pursuit. Dogs, sir? " 
 
 " Not just now," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Ah ! you should keep dogs fine animals sagacious creatures 
 dog of my own once Pointer surprising instinct out shooting one 
 day entering inclosure whistled dog stopped whistled again 
 Ponto no go : stock still called him Ponto, Ponto wouldn't move 
 dog transfixed staring at a board looked up, saw an inscription 
 'Gamekeeper has orders to shoot all dogs found in this inclosure' 
 wouldn't pass it wonderful dog valuable dog that very." 
 
 " Singular circumstance that," said Mr. Pickwick. " Will you allow 
 me to make a note of if" ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Sir, certainly hundred more anecdotes of the same 
 animal. Fine girl, Sir " (to Mr. Tracy Tupman, who had been bestow- 
 ing sundry anti-Pickwickian glances on a young lady by the road side;. 
 
 " Very ! " said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " English girls not so fine as Spanish noble creatures jet hair 
 black eyes lovely forms sweet creatures beautiful." 
 
 " You have been in Spain, Sir? " said Mr. Tracy Tupman. 
 
 * Although we find this circumstance recorded as a "singular" one, in Mr. 
 Pickwick's note- book, we cannot refrain from humbly expressing our dissent from 
 that learned authority. The stranger's anecdote is not one quarter so wonderful 
 as some of Mr. Jesse's " Gleanings." Ponto sinks into utter insignificance before 
 the dogs whose actions he records. ED. 
 C
 
 10 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Lived there ages." 
 
 " Many conquests, Sir? " inquired Mr. Tupman. 
 
 "Conquests! Thousands. Don Bolaro Fizzgig Grandee only 
 daughter Donna Christina splendid creature loved me to distraction 
 jealous father high-souled daughter handsome Englishman 
 Donna Christina in despair prussic acid stomach pump in my port- 
 manteau operation performed old Bolaro in ecstacies consent to 
 our union -join hands and floods of tears romantic story very." 
 
 "Is the lady in England now, Sir?" inquired Mr. Tupman, on 
 whom the description of her charms had produced a powerful impression. 
 
 " Dead, Sir dead," said the stranger, applying to his right eye the 
 brief remnant of a very old cambric handkerchief. " Never recovered 
 the stomach pump undermined constitution fell a victim." 
 
 " And her father ? " inquired the poetic Snodgrass. 
 
 " Remorse and misery," replied the stranger. " Sudden disappear- 
 ance talk of the whole city search made everywhere without 
 success public fountain in the great square suddenly ceased playing 
 weeks elapsed still a stoppage workmen employed to clean it water 
 drawn off father-in-law discovered sticking head first in the main pipe, 
 with a full confession in his right boot took him out, and the foun- 
 tain played away again, as well as ever." 
 
 " Will you allow me to note that little romance down, Sir?" said 
 Mr. Snodgrass, deeply affected. 
 
 " Certainly, Sir, certainly, fifty more if you like to hear 'em 
 strange life mine rather curious history not extraordinary, but 
 singular." 
 
 In this strain, with an occasional glass of ale, by way of parenthesis, 
 when the coach changed horses, did the stranger proceed, until they 
 reached Rochester bridge, by which time the note-books, both of Mr. 
 Pickwick and Mr. Snodgrass, were completely filled with selections 
 from his adventures. 
 
 " Magnificent ruin ! " said Mr. Augustus Snodgrass, with all the 
 poetic fervour that distinguished him, when they came in sight of the 
 fine old castle. 
 
 " What a study for an antiquarian," were the very words which fell 
 from Mr. Pickwick's mouth, as he applied his telescope to his eye. 
 
 "Ah! fine place," said the stranger, "glorious pile frowning 
 walls tottering arches dark nooks crumbling staircases Old cathe- 
 dral too earthy smell pilgrims feet worn away the old steps little 
 Saxon doors confessionals like money-takers' boxes at theatres queer 
 customers those monks Popes, and Lord Treasurers, and all sorts of 
 old fellows, with great red faces, and broken noses, turning up every day 
 - buff jerkins too matchlocks Sarcophagus fine place old legends 
 too strange stories: capital;" and the stranger continued to solilo- 
 quize until they reached the Bull Inn, in the High street, where the 
 coach stopped. 
 
 "Do you remain here, Sir? " inquired Mr. Nathaniel Winkle. 
 
 "Here not I but you'd better good house nice beds Wright's 
 next house, dear very dear half-a-crovvn in the bill, if you look at 
 the waiter charge you more if you dine at a friend's than they would 
 if you dined in the coffee-room rum fellows very.''
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 11 
 
 Mr. Winkle turned to Mr. Pickwick, and murmured a few words; a 
 whisper passed from Mr. Pickwick to Mr. Snodgrass, from Mr. Snod- 
 grass to Mr. Tupman, and nods of assent were exchanged. Mr. Pick- 
 wick addressed the stranger. 
 
 " You rendered us a very important service, this morning, Sir/' said 
 he ; " will you allow us to offer a slight mark of our gratitude by begging 
 the favour of your company at dinner ? " 
 
 " Great pleasure not presume to dictate, but broiled fowl and 
 mushrooms capital thing ! What time ?" 
 
 " Let me see, replied Mr. Pickwick, referring to his watch, " it is 
 now nearly three. Shall we say five ? " 
 
 " Suit me excellently," said the stranger, " five precisely till then 
 care of yourselves ;" and lifting the pinched up hat a few inches from 
 his head, and carelessly replacing it very much on one side, the stranger, 
 with half the brown paper parcel sticking out of his pocket, walked 
 briskly up the yard, and turned into the high street. 
 
 " Evidently a traveller in many countries, and a close observer of 
 men and things," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I should like to see his paem," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " I should like to have seen that dog," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 Mr. Tupman said nothing ; but he thought of Donna Christina, the 
 stomach pump, and the fountain; and his eyes filled with tears. 
 
 A private sitting-room having been engaged, bed-rooms inspected, 
 and dinner ordered, the party walked out to view the city, and adjoining 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 We do not find, from a careful perusal of Mr. Pickwick's notes on 
 the four towns, Stroud, Rochester, Chatham, and Brompton, that his 
 impressions of their appearance differ in any material point, from those 
 of other travellers who have gone over the same ground. His general 
 description is easily abridged. 
 
 "The principal productions of these towns," says Mr. Pickwick, 
 "appear to be soldiers, sailors, Jews, chalk, shrimps, officers, and dock- 
 yard men. The commodities chiefly exposed for sale in the public 
 streets, are marine stores, hard-bake, apples, flat-fish, and oysters. The 
 streets present a lively and animated appearance, occasioned chiefly by 
 the conviviality of the military. It is truly delightful to a philanthropic 
 mind, to see these gallant men, staggering along under the influence of 
 an overflow, both of animal, and ardent spirits ; more especially when 
 we remember that the following them about, and jesting with them, 
 affords a cheap and innocent amusement for the boyjaopulation. Nothing 
 (adds Mr. Pickwick) can exceed their good humour. It was but the 
 day before my arrival, that one of them had been most grossly insulted 
 in the house of a publican. The bar-maid had positively refused to 
 draw him any more liquor ; in return for which, he had (merely in 
 playfulness) drawn his bayonet, and wounded the girl in the shoulder. 
 And yet this fine "fellow was the very first to go down to the house 
 next morning, and express his readiness to overlook the matter, and 
 forget what had occurred ! 
 
 " The consumption of tobacco in these towns (continues Mr. Pick- 
 wick) must be very great: and the smell which pervades the streets
 
 12 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 must be exceedingly delicious to those who are extremely fond of 
 smoking-. A superficial traveller might object to the dirt which is 
 their leading characteristic ; but to those who view it as an indication 
 of traffic, and commercial prosperity, it is truly gratifying." 
 
 Punctual to five o'clock, came the stranger, and shortly afterwards 
 the dinner. He had divested himself of his brown paper parcel, but 
 had made no alteration in his attire ; and was, if possible, more loqua- 
 cious than ever. 
 
 " What's that ? " he inquired, as the waiter removed one of the 
 covers. 
 
 Soles, Sir." 
 
 "Soles ah! capital fish all come from London stage-coach 
 proprietors get up political dinners carriage of soles dozens of baskets 
 cunning fellows. Glass of wine, Sir ? " 
 
 " With pleasure," said Mr. Pickwick and the stranger took wine 
 first with him, and then with Mr. Snodgrass, and then with Mr. 
 Tupman, and then with Mr. Winkle, and then with the whole party 
 together, almost as rapidly as he talked. 
 
 " Devil of a mess on the staircase, waiter," said the stranger, " Forms 
 going up carpenters coming down lamps, glasses, harps. What's 
 going forward." 
 
 44 Ball, Sir," said the waiter. 
 " Assembly eh ?" 
 
 " No, Sir, not Assembly, Sir. Ball for the benefit of a charity, Sir." 
 " Many fine women in this town, do you kno\v, Sir?" inquired Mr. 
 Tupman, with great interest. 
 
 " Splendid capital. Kent, Sir Every body knows Kent apples, 
 cherries, hops, and women. Glass of wine, Sir?" 
 
 " With great pleasure," i-eplied Mr. Tupman. The stranger filled, 
 and emptied. 
 
 " I should very much like to go," said Mr. Tupman, resuming the 
 subject of the ball, " very much." 
 
 " Tickets at the bar, Sir," interposed the waiter, "half-a-guinea 
 each, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Tupman again expressed an earnest wish to be present at the 
 festivity ; but meeting with no response in the darkened eye of Mr. 
 Snodgrass, or the abstracted gaze of Mr. Pickwick, he applied himself 
 with great interest to the port wine and dessert which had just been 
 placed on the table. The waiter withdrew, and the party were left to 
 enjoy the cosy couple of hours succeeding dinner. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Sir," said the stranger, " Bottle stands pass it 
 round way of the sun through the button-hole no heeltaps," and 
 he emptied'his glass, which he had filled about two minutes before ; and 
 poured out another, with the air of a man who was used to it. 
 
 The wine was passed, and a fresh supply ordered. The visitor 
 talked, the Pickwickians listened. Mr. Tupman felt every moment 
 more disposed for the ball. Mr. Pickwick's countenance glowed with 
 an expression of universal philanthropy ; and Mr. Winkle, and Mr. 
 Snodgrass, fell fast asleep. 
 " They're beginning up stairs," said the stranger " hear the com-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 13 
 
 pany fiddles tuning now the harp there they go." The various 
 sounds which found their way down stairs, announced the commence- 
 ment of the first quadrille. 
 
 " How I should like to go," said Mr. Tupman, again. 
 
 " So should I," said the stranger, " confounded luggage heavy 
 smacks nothing to go in odd, an't it ? " 
 
 Now general benevolence was one of the leading features of the 
 Pickwickian theory, and no one was more remarkable for the zealous 
 manner in which he observed so noble a principle, than Mr. Tracy 
 Tupman. The number of instances, recorded on the transactions of 
 the Society, in which that excellent man referred objects of charity to 
 the houses of other members for left-off garments, or pecuniary relief, 
 is almost incredible. 
 
 " I should be very happy to lend you a change of apparel for the pur- 
 pose," said Mr. Tracy Tupman, " but you are rather slim, and I am " 
 
 " Rather fat grown up Bacchus cut the leaves dismounted from 
 the tub, and adopted kersey, eh? not double distilled, but double 
 milled ha ! ha ! pass the wine." 
 
 Whether Mr. Tupman was somewhat indignant at the peremptory 
 tone in which he was desired to pass the wine which the stranger passed 
 so quickly away ; or whether he felt very properly scandalized, at an 
 influential member of the Pickwick club being ignominously compared 
 to a dismounted Bacchus, is a fact not yet completely ascertained. He 
 passed the wine, coughed twice, and looked at the stranger for several 
 seconds with a stern intensity ; as that individual, however, appeared 
 perfectly collected, and quite calm under his searching glance, he gra- 
 dually relaxed, and reverted to the subject of the ball. 
 
 " 1 was about to observe, Sir," he said, " that though my apparel 
 would be too large, a suit of my friend Mr. Winkle's would, perhaps, fit 
 you better." 
 
 The stranger took Mr. Winkle's measure with his eye ; and that 
 feature glistened with satisfaction as he said ' Just the thing I " 
 
 Mr. Tupman looked roun 1 him. The wine which had exerted its 
 somniferous influence over Mr. Snodgrass, and Mr. Winkle, had stolen 
 upon the senses of Mr. Pickwick. That gentleman had gradually 
 passed through the various stages which precede the lethargy pro- 
 duced by dinner, and its consequences. He had undergone the ordi- 
 nary transitions from the height of conviviality, to the depth of misery, 
 and from the depth of misery, to the height of conviviality. Like a 
 gas lamp in the street, with the wind in the pipe, he had exhibited for 
 a moment an unnatural brilliancy : then sunk so low as to be scarcely 
 discernible : after a short interval, he had burst out again, to enlighten 
 for a moment, then flickered with an uncertain, staggering sort of 
 light, and then gone out altogether. His head was sunk upon his bosom ; 
 and perpetual snoring, with a partial choke, occasionally, were the only 
 audible indications of the great man's presence. 
 
 The temptation to be present at the ball, and to form his first impres- 
 sions of the beauty of the Kentish ladies, was strong upon Mr. Tup- 
 man. The temptation to take the stranger with him, was equally great. 
 He was wholly unacquainted with the place, and its inhabitants ; and
 
 14 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 the stranger seemed to possess as great a knowledge of both, as if he 
 had lived there from his infancy. Mr. Winkle was asleep, and Mr. 
 Tupman had had sufficient experience in such matters to know, that 
 the moment he awoke, he would, in the ordinary course of nature, roll 
 heavily to bed. He was undecided. " Fill your glass, and pass the 
 wine," said the indefatigable visitor. 
 
 Mr. Tupman did as he was requested; and the additional stimulus of 
 the last glass settled his determination." 
 
 " Winkle's bed-room is inside mine," said Mr. Tupman ; " I couldn't 
 make him understand what I wanted, if I woke him now, but I know 
 he has a dress suit, in a carpet bag ; and supposing you wore it to the 
 ball, and took it off when we returned, I could replace it without 
 troubling him at all about the matter." 
 
 " Capital," said the stranger, "famous plan damned odd situation 
 fourteen coats in the packing cases, and obliged to wear another man's 
 very good notion, that very." 
 
 " We must purchase our tickets," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Not worth while splitting a guinea," said the stranger, " toss who 
 shall pay for both I call ; you spin first time woman woman 
 bewitching woman," and down came the sovereign, with the Dragon 
 (called by courtesy a woman) uppermost. 
 
 Mr. Tupman rang the bell, purchased the tickets, and ordered cham- 
 ber-candlesticks. In another quarter of an hour, the stranger was com- 
 pletely arrayed in a full suit of Mr. Nathaniel Winkle's. 
 
 " It's a new coat," said Mr. Tupman, as the stranger surveyed him- 
 self with great complacency in a cheval glass. "The first that's been 
 made with our club button," and he called his companion's attention 
 to the large gilt button which displayed a bust of Mr. Pickwick in the 
 centre, and the letters " P. C." on either side. 
 
 " P. C." said the stranger, " Queer set out old fellow's likeness, 
 and < P. C.' What does P. C. stand for Peculiar Coat, eh?" Mr. 
 Tupman, with rising indignation, and great importance, explained the 
 mystic device. 
 
 " Rather short in the waist, a'nt it ?" said the stranger, screwing 
 himself round, to catch a glimpse in the glass of the waist buttons which 
 were halfway up his back. " Like a general postman's coat queer coats 
 those made by contract no measuring mysterious dispensations 
 of Providence all the short men get long coats all the long men 
 short ones." Running on in this way, Mr. Tupman's new companion 
 adjusted his dress, or rather the dress of Mr. Winkle ; and, accompanied 
 by Mr. Tupman, ascended the staircase leading to the ball room. 
 
 " What names, Sir? " said the man at the door. Mr. Tracy Tup- 
 man was stepping forward to announce his own titles, when the stranger 
 prevented him. 
 
 " Xo names at all," and then he whispered Mr. Tupman, " Names 
 wo'nt do not known very good names in their way, but not great 
 ones capital names for a small party, but won't make an impression in 
 public assemblies incog, the thing Gentlemen from London dis- 
 tinguished foreigners anything." The door was thrown open ; and 
 Mr. Tracy Tupman, and the stranger, entered the ball room.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 15 
 
 It was a long room, with crimson-covered benches, and wax candles 
 in glass chandeliers. The musicians were securely confined in an 
 elevated den, and quadrilles were being systematically got through by 
 two or three sets of dancers. Two card-tables were made up in the 
 adjoining card-room, and two pair of old ladies, and a corresponding 
 number of stout gentlemen, were executing whist therein. 
 
 The finale concluded, the dancers promenaded the room, and Mr. 
 Tupman and his companion stationed themselves in a corner, to observe 
 the company. 
 
 <: Charming women," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Wait a minute," said the stranger, " fun presently nobs not come 
 yet queer place Dock-yard people of upper rank don't know Dock- 
 yard people of lower rank Dock-yard people of lower rank don't know 
 small gentry small gentry don't know tradespeople Commissioner 
 don't know anybody." 
 
 '< Who's that little boy with the light hair and pink eyes, in a fancy 
 dress ? " inquired Mr. Tupman. 
 
 "Hush, pray pink eyes fancy dress little boy nonsense Ensign 
 97th. Honourable Wilmot Snipe great family Snipes very." 
 
 " Sir Thomas Clubber, Lady Clubber, and the Miss Clubbers ! '' 
 shouted the man at the door in a stentorian voice. A great sensation 
 was created throughout the room, by the entrance of a tall gentleman 
 in a blue coat and bright buttons, a large lady in blue satin, and two 
 young ladies on a similar scale, in fashionably-made dresses of the 
 same hue. 
 
 " Commissioner head of the yard great man remarkably great 
 man," whispered the stranger in Mr. Tupman's ear, as the charitable 
 committee ushered Sir Thomas Clubber and family to the top of the 
 room. The Honourable Wilmot Snipe, and other distinguished gen- 
 tlemen crowded to render homage to the Miss Clubbers; and Sir 
 Thomas Clubber stood bolt upright, and looked majestically over his 
 black neckerchief at the assembled company. 
 
 '' Mr. Smithie, Mrs. Smithie, and the Misses Smithie," was the next 
 announcement. 
 
 " What's Mr. Smithie," inquired Mr. Tracy Tupman. 
 
 " Something in the yard," replied the stranger. Mr. Smithie bowed 
 deferentially to Sir Thomas Clubber; and Sir Thomas Clubber acknow- 
 ledged the salute with conscious condescension. Lady Clubber took a 
 telescope view of Mrs. Smithie and family, through her eye-glass, and 
 Mrs. Smithie, stared in her turn, at Mrs. Somebody else, whose husband 
 was not in the dock-yard at all. 
 
 " Colonel Bulder, Mrs. Colonel Bulder, and Miss Bidder," were the 
 next arrivals. 
 
 " Head of the garrison," said the stranger, in reply to Mr. Tup- 
 man's inquiring look. 
 
 Miss Bulder was warmly Welcomed by the Miss Clubbers ; the greet- 
 ing between Mrs. Colonel Bulder, and Lady Clubber, was of the most 
 affectionate description ; Colonel Bulder and Sir Thomas Clubber ex- 
 changed snuff-boxes, and looked very much like a pair of Alexander 
 Selkirks ; " Monarchs of all they surveyed."
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 While the aristocracy of the place the Bulders, and Clubbers, and 
 Snipes were thus preserving their dignity at the upper end of the 
 room, the other classes of society were imitating their example in other 
 parts of it. The less aristocratic officers of the 97th devoted them- 
 selves to the families of the less important functionaries from the dock- 
 yard. The solicitors' wives, and the wine merchant's wife, headed another 
 grade, (the brewer's wife visited the Bulders;) and Mrs. Tomlinson, the 
 post-office keeper, seemed by mutual consent to have been chosen the 
 leader of the trade party. 
 
 One of the most popular personages, in his own circle, present, was a 
 little fat man, with a ring of upright black hair round his head, and an 
 extensive bald plain on the top of it Doctor Slammer, surgeon to the 
 97th. The Doctor took snuff with every body, chatted with every 
 body, laughed, danced, made jokes, played whist, did everything, and 
 was everywhere. To these pursuits, multifarious as they were, the 
 little Doctor added a more important one than any he was indefatiga- 
 ble in paying the most unremitting and devoted attention to a little old 
 widow, whose rich dress and profusion of ornament bespoke her a most 
 desirable addition to a limited income. 
 
 Upon the doctor, and the widow, the eyes both of Mr. Tupman and 
 his companion had been fixed for some time, when the stranger broke 
 silence. 
 
 " Lots of money old girl pompous doctor not a bad idea 
 good fun," were the intelligible sentences which issued from his lips. 
 Mr. Tupman looked inquisitively in his face. 
 
 " I'll dance with the widow," said the stranger. 
 
 " Who is she ? " inquired Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Don't know never saw her in all my life cut out the doctor 
 here goes." And the stranger forthwith crossed the room ; and, leaning 
 against a mantel-piece, commenced gazing with an air of respectful and 
 melancholy admiration on the fat countenance of the little old lady. 
 Mr. Tupman looked on, in mute astonishment. The stranger pro- 
 gressed rapidly ; the little doctor danced with another lady the widow 
 dropped her fan ; the stranger picked it up, and presented it, a smile 
 a bow a curtsey a few words of conversation. The stranger walked 
 boldly up to, and returned with, the master of the ceremonies ; a little 
 introductory pantomime ; and the stranger and Mrs. Budger took their 
 places in a quadrille. 
 
 The surprise of Mr. Tupman at this summary proceeding, great as 
 it was, was immeasurably exceeded by the astonishment of the doctor. 
 The stranger was young, and the widow was flattered. The doctor's 
 attentions were unheeded by the widow ; and the doctor's indignation 
 was wholly lost on his imperturbable rival. Doctor Slammer was 
 paralyzed. He, Doctor Slammer of the 97th, to be extinguished in a 
 moment, by a man whom nobody had ever seen before, and whom no- 
 body knew even now ! Doctor Slammer Doctor Slammer of the 97th 
 rejected ! Impossible ! It could not be ! Yes, it was ; there they 
 were. What ! introducing his friend ! Could he believe his eyes ! 
 He looked again, and was under the painful necessity of admitting the 
 veracity of his optics ; Mrs. Budger was dancing with Mr. Tracy
 
 
 
 * 
 
 . 

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 17 
 
 Tupman ; there was no mistaking- the fact. There was the widow 
 before him, bouncing bodily, here and there, with unwonted vigour; 
 and Mr. Tracy Tupman hopping about, with a face expressive of the 
 most intense solemnity, dancing (as a good many people do) as if a 
 quadrille were not a thing to be laughed at, but a severe trial to the 
 feelings, which it requires inflexible resolution to encounter. 
 
 Silently and patiently did the doctor bear all this, and all the handings 
 of negus, and watching for glasses, and darting for biscuits, and 
 coquetting, that ensued ; but, a few seconds after the stranger had 
 disappeared to lead Mrs. Budger to her carriage, he darted swiftly from 
 the room with every particle of his hitherto-bottled-up indignation 
 effervescing, from all parts of his countenance, in a perspiration of 
 passion. 
 
 The stranger was returning, and Mr. Tupman was beside him. He 
 spoke in a low tone, and laughed. The little doctor thirsted for his 
 life. He was exulting. He had triumphed. 
 
 " Sir ! " said the doctor, in an awful voice, producing a card, and 
 retiring into an angle of the passage " my name is Slammer, Doctor 
 Slammer, Sir 97th regiment Chatham Barracks my card, Sir, my 
 card." He would have added more, but his indignation choaked him. 
 
 " Ah ! " replied the stranger, coolly, " Slammer much obliged 
 polite attention-^ not ill now, Slammer but when I am -knock you 
 up." 
 
 " You you're a shuffler, Sir," gasped the furious doctor, "a poltroon 
 ^a coward a liar a a will nothing induce you to give me your 
 card, Sir.' 
 
 " Oh ! I see," said the stranger, half aside, " negus too strong here 
 liberal landlord very foolish very lemonade much better hot 
 rooms elderly gentlemen suffer for it in the morning cruel 
 cruel ; " and he moved on a step or two. 
 
 " You are stopping in this house. Sir," said the indignant little man ; 
 "you are intoxicated now, Sir; you shall hear from me in the morn- 
 ing, Sir. I shall find you out, Sir; I shall find you out." 
 
 " Rather you found me out, than found me at home," replied the 
 unmoved stranger. 
 
 Doctor Slammer looked umitterable ferocity, as he fixed his hat on 
 his head with an indignant knock : and the stranger and Mr. Tupman 
 ascended to the bed-room of the latter to restore the borrowed plumage 
 .to the unconscious Winkle. 
 
 That gentleman was fast asleep ; the restoration was soon made. 
 The stranger was extremely jocose; and Mr. Tracy Tupman, being 
 quite bewildered with wine, negus, lights, and ladies, thought the whole 
 affair an exquisite joke. His new friend departed ; and, after expe- 
 riencing some slight difficulty in finding the orifice in his night-cap, 
 originally intended for the reception of his head, and finally overturning 
 his candlestick in his struggles to put it on, Mr. Tracy Tupman managed 
 to get into bed, by a series of complicated evolutions, and shortly 
 afterwards sank into repose. 
 
 Seven o'clock had hardly ceased striking on the following morning, 
 when Mr, Pickwick's comprehensive mind was aroused from the state 
 P
 
 18 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 of unconsciousness, in which slumber had plunged it, by a loud knocking 
 at his chamber door. 
 
 " Who's there?" said Mr. Pickwick, starting up in bed. 
 
 " Boots, sir." 
 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " Please sir, can you tell me, which gentleman of your party wears a 
 bright blue dress coat, with a gilt button with P. c. on it ?" 
 
 " It's been given out to brush," thought Mr. Pickwick ; and the 
 man has forgotten whom it belongs to " Mr. Winkle," he called out, 
 " next room but two, on the right hand." 
 
 " Thank'ee, sir," said the Boots, and away he went. 
 
 " What's the matter?" cried Mr. Tupman, as a loud knocking at 
 his door roused him from his oblivious repose. 
 
 "Can I speak to Mr. Winkle, sir?" replied the Boots, from the 
 outside. 
 
 " Winkle Winkle," shouted Mr. Tupman, calling into the inner 
 room. 
 
 " Hallo!" replied a faint voice from within the bed-clothes. 
 
 " You're wanted some one at the door " and having exerted 
 himself to articulate thus much, Mr. Tracy Tupmau turned round 
 and fell fast asleep again. 
 
 " Wanted ! " said Mr. Winkle, hastily jumping out of bed, and putting 
 on a few articles of clothing : " wanted ! at this distance from town 
 who on earth can want me I" 
 
 il Gentleman in the coffee room, sir," replied the Boots, as Mr. 
 Winkle opened the door, and confronted him ; " gentleman says he'll 
 not detain you a moment, sir, but he can take no denial." 
 
 " Very odd I" said Mr. Winkle ; " I'll be down directly." 
 
 He hurriedly wrapped himself in a travelling-shawl, and dressing- 
 gown, and proceeded down stairs. An old woman and a couple of 
 waiters were cleaning the coffee room, and an officer in undress 
 uniform was looking out of the window. He turned round as Mr. 
 Winkle entered, and made a stiff inclination of the head. Having 
 ordered the attendants to retire, and closed the door very carefully, he 
 said, " Mr. Winkle, I presume?" 
 
 " My name is Winkle, sir." 
 
 " You will not be surprised, sir, when I inform you, that I have called 
 here this morning on behalf of my friend, Dr. Slammer, of the Ninety- 
 seventh." 
 
 " Doctor Slammer!" said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Doctor Slammer. He begged me to express his opinion that your 
 conduct of last evening was of a description which no gentleman could 
 endure : and (he added) which no one gentleman would pursue towards 
 another." 
 
 Mr. Winkle's astonishment was too real, and too evident, to escape 
 the observation of Doctor Slammer's friend ; he therefore proceeded. 
 " My friend, Doctor Slammer, requested me to add, that he is firmly 
 persuaded you were intoxicated during a portion of the evening, and 
 possibly unconscious of the extent of the insult you were guilty of. 
 He commissioned me to say, that should this be pleaded as an excuse
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 19 
 
 for your behaviour, he will consent to accept a written apology, to be 
 penned by you, from my dictation." 
 
 " A written apology ! " repeated Mr. Winkle, in the most emphatic 
 tone of amazement possible. 
 
 " Of course you know the alternative," replied the visiter, coolly. 
 
 " Were you entrusted with this message to me, by name ?" inquired 
 Mr. Winkle, whose intellects were hopelessly confused by this extra- 
 ordinary conversation. 
 
 " I was not present my self, "re plied the visiter, "and in consequence 
 of your firm refusal to give your card to Doctor Slammer, I was desired 
 by that gentleman to identify the wearer of a very uncommon coat a 
 bright blue dress coat, with a gilt button, displaying a bust, and the 
 letters ' P. c.' " 
 
 Mr. Winkle actually staggered with astonishment, as he heard his 
 own costume thus minutely described. Doctor Slammer's friend 
 proceeded : 
 
 " From the inquiries I made at the bar, just now, I was convinced 
 that the owner of the coat in question arrived here, with three gentle- 
 men, yesterday afternoon. I immediately sent up to the gentleman 
 who was described as appearing the head of the party ; and he, at once, 
 referred me to you." 
 
 If the principal tower of Rochester Castle had suddenly walked from 
 its foundation, and stationed itself opposite the coffee-room window, 
 Mr. Winkle's surprise would have been as nothing, compared with the 
 profound astonishment with which he had heard this address. His 
 first impression was, that his coat had been stolen. " W T ill you allow 
 me to detain you one moment ?" said he. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the unwelcome visiter. 
 
 Mr. Winkle ran hastily up-stairs, and with a trembling hand opened 
 the bag. There was the coat in its usual place, but exhibiting, on a 
 close inspection, evident tokens of having been worn on the preceding 
 night. 
 
 " It must be so," said Mr. Winkle, letting the coat fall from his hands. 
 " I took too much wine after dinner, and have a very vague recollection 
 of walking about the streets, and smoking a cigar, afterwards. The 
 fact is, I was very drunk ; I must have changed my coat gone some- 
 where and insulted somebody I have no doubt of it, ; and this mes- 
 sage is the terrible consequence." Saying which, Mr. Winkle retraced 
 his steps in the direction of the coffee-room, with the gloomy and 
 dreadful resolve of accepting the challenge of the warlike Doctor 
 Slammer, and abiding by the worst consequences that might ensue. 
 
 To this determination Mr. Winkle was urged by a variety of consi- 
 derations ; the first of which was, his reputation with the club. He had 
 always been looked up to as a high authority on all matters of amuse- 
 ment and dexterity, whether offensive, defensive, or inoffensive ; and if, 
 on this very first occasion of being put to the test, he shrunk back from 
 the trial, beneath his leader's eye, his name and standing were lost for 
 ever. Besides, he remembered to have heard it frequently surmised by 
 the uninitiated in such matters, that by an Tinderstood arrangement 
 between the seconds, the pistols were seldom loaded with ball ; and,
 
 20 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 furthermore, he reflected that if he applied to Mr. Snodurass to act as 
 his second, and depicted the danger in "lowing terms, that gentleman 
 might possibly communicate the intelligence to Mr. Pickwick, who 
 would certainly lose no time in transmitting it to the local authorities, 
 and thus prevent the killing or maiming of his follower. 
 
 Such were his thoughts when he returned to the coffee-room, and 
 intimated his intention of accepting the Doctor's challenge. 
 
 " Will you refer me to a friend, to arrange the time and place of 
 meeting ? " said the officer. 
 
 " Quite unnecessary," replied Mr. Winkle ; " name them to me, and 
 I can procure the attendance of a friend, afterwards." 
 
 "Shall we say sunset this evening?" inquired the officer, in a 
 careless tone. 
 
 " Very good," replied Mr. Winkle ; thinking in his heart it was very 
 bad. 
 
 " You know Fort Pitt ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I saw it yesterday." 
 
 " If you will take the trouble to turn into the field which borders the 
 trench, take the foot-path to the left, when you arrive at an angle of 
 the fortification ; and keep straight on 'till you see me ; I will precede 
 you to a secluded place, where the affair can be conducted without fear 
 of interruption." 
 
 "Fear of interruption !" thought Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Nothing more to arrange, I think," said the officer. 
 
 " I am not aware of anything more," replied Mr. Winkle. 
 
 *' Good morning." 
 
 " Good morning :" and the officer whistled a lively air, as he strode 
 away. 
 
 That morning's breakfast passed heavily off. Mr. Tupman was not 
 in a condition to rise, after the unwonted dissipation of the previous 
 night ; Mr. Snodgrass appeared to labour under a poetical depression of 
 spirits; and even Mr. Pickwick evinced an unusual attachment to 
 silence and soda water. Mr. Winkle eagerly watched his opportunity. 
 It was not long wanting. Mr. Snodgrass proposed a visit to the castle, 
 and as Mr. Winkle was the only other member of the party disposed to 
 walk, they went out together. 
 
 " Snodgrass," said Mr. Winkle, when they had turned out of the 
 public street ; " Snodgrass, my dear fellow, can I rely upon your 
 secresy?" As he said this, he most devoutly and earnestly hoped he 
 could not. 
 
 " You can," replied Mr. Suodgrass. " Hear me swear " 
 
 " No, no;" interrupted Winkle, terrified at the idea of his compa- 
 nion's unconsciously pledging himself not to give information ; " don't 
 swear, don't swear ; it 's quite unnecessary." 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass dropped the hand which he had, in the spirit of poesy, 
 raised towards the clouds, as he made the above appeal, and assumed 
 an attitude of attention. 
 
 " I want your assistance, my dear fellow, in an affair of honour," said 
 Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " You shall have it," replied Mr. Snodgrasa, clasping his friend's 
 hand.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 21 
 
 "With a Doctor Doctor Slammer, of the Ninety-seventh," said 
 Mr. Winkle, wishing to make the matter appear as solemn as pos- 
 sible ; " an affair with an officer, seconded by another officer, at 
 sunset this evening, in a lonely field beyond Fort Pitt." 
 
 " I will attend you," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 He was astonished, but by no means dismayed. It is extraor- 
 dinary how cool any party but the principal can be in such cases. 
 Mr. Winkle had forgotten this. lie had judged of his friend's feelings 
 by his own. 
 
 " The consequences may be dreadful," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " I hope not," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " The Doctor, I believe, is a very good shot," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Most of these military men are," observed Mr. Snodgrass, calmly; 
 "but so are you, a'n't you ?" 
 
 Mr. Winkle replied in the affirmative ; and perceiving that he had 
 not alarmed his companion sufficiently, changed his ground. 
 
 " Snodgrass/' he said, in a voice tremulous with emotion, " if I fall, 
 you will rind in a packet which I shall place in your hands a note for 
 my for my father." 
 
 This attack was a failure also. Mr. Snodgrass was affected, but he 
 undertook the delivery of the note, as readily as if he had been a 
 Twopenny Postman. 
 
 " If I fall," said Mr. \Vinkle, "or if the Doctor falls, you, my dear 
 friend, will be tried as an accessory before the fact. Shall I involve my 
 friend in transportation possibly for life ! " 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass winced a little at this, but his heroism was invincible. 
 " In the cause of friendship," he fervently exclaimed, " I would brave 
 all dangers." 
 
 How Mr. Winkle cursed his companion's devoted friendship inter- 
 nally, as they walked silently along, side by side, for some minutes, 
 each immersed in his own meditations ! The morning was wearing 
 away ; he grew desperate. 
 
 " Snodgrass," he said, stopping suddenly, " do not let me be baulked 
 in this matter do not give information to the local authorities do not 
 obtain the assistance of several peace officers, to take either me or Doctor 
 Slammer, of the Ninety-seventh Regiment, at present quartered in 
 Chatham Barracks, into custody, and thus prevent this duel ; I say, 
 do not." 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass seized his friend's hand warmly, as he enthusiastically 
 replied, " Not for worlds ! " 
 
 A thrill passed over Mr. Winkle's frame, as the conviction, that he 
 had nothing to hope from his friend's fears, and that he was destined to 
 become an animated target, rushed forcibly upon him. 
 
 The state of the case 'having been formally explained to Mr. Snod- 
 grass, and a case of satisfaction pistols, with the satisfactory accom- 
 paniments of powder, ball, and caps, having been hired from a 
 manufacturer in Rochester, the two friends returned to their inn : Mr. 
 Winkle, to ruminate on the approaching struggle ; and Mr. Snodgrass, 
 to arrange the weapons of war, and put them into proper order for 
 immediate use.
 
 22 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 It was a dull and heavy evening 1 , when they again sallied forth on 
 their awkward errand. Mr. Winkle was muffled up in a huge cloak to 
 escape observation ; and Mr. Snodgrass bore under his the instruments 
 of destruction. 
 
 " Have you got ev'rything?" said Mr. Winkle, in an agitated tone. 
 
 " Ev'ry thing-," replied Mr. Snodgrass ; " plenty of ammunition, in 
 case the shots don't take effect. There's a quarter of a pound of 
 powder in the case, and I have got two newspapers in my pocket, for 
 the loadings." 
 
 These were instances of friendship, for which any man might reason- 
 ably feel most grateful. The presumption is, that the gratitude of 
 Mr. Winkle was too powerful for utterance, as he said nothing, but 
 continued to walk on rather slowly. 
 
 " We are in excellent time," said Mr. Snodgrass, as they climbed the 
 fence of the first field ; " the sun is just going down." Mr. Winkle 
 looked up at the declining orb, and painfully thought of the proba- 
 bility of his "going down" himself, before long. 
 
 " There's the officer," exclaimed Mr. Winkle, after a few minutes' 
 walking. 
 
 Where?" said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " There ; the gentleman in the blue cloak." Mr. Snodgrass looked 
 in the direction indicated by the forefinger of his friend, and observed a 
 figure, muffled up, as he had described. The officer evinced his con- 
 sciousness of their presence by slightly beckoning with his hand ; and 
 the two friends followed him, at a little distance, as he walked away. 
 
 The evening grew more dull every moment, and a melancholy wind 
 sounded through the deserted fields, like a distant giant, whistling for 
 his house-dog. The sadness of the scene imparted a sombre tinge to 
 the feelings of Mr. W r inkle. He started as they passed the angle of the 
 trench it looked like a colossal grave. 
 
 The officer turned suddenly from the path ; and after climbing a 
 paling, and scaling a hedge, entered a secluded field. T\vo gentlemen 
 were waiting in it ; one was a little fat man, with black hair; and the 
 other a portly personage in a braided surtout was sitting with perfect 
 equanimity on a camp-stool. 
 
 " The other party, and a surgeon, I suppose," said Mr. Snodgrass ; 
 " take a drop of brandy." Mr. Winkle seized the wicker bottle, which 
 his friend proffered, and took a lengthened pull at the exhilarating 
 liquid. 
 
 " My friend, sir, Mr. Snodgrass," said Mr. Winkle, as the officer 
 approached. Doctor Slammer's friend bowed, and produced a case 
 similar to that which Mr. Snodgrass carried. 
 
 " \Ve have nothing further to say, sir, I think," he coldly remarked, 
 as he opened the case; " an apology has been resolutely declined." 
 
 " Nothing, sir," said Mr. Snodgrass, who began to feel rather 
 uncomfortable himself. 
 
 " Will you step forward ? " said the officer. 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. Snodgrass. The ground was measured, 
 and preliminaries arranged. 
 
 " You will find these better than your own," said the opposite
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 23 
 
 second, producing his pistols. " You saw me load them. Do you 
 object to use them ?" 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Snoderass. The offer relieved him 
 from considerable embarrassment ; for his previous notions of loading a 
 pistol were rather vague and undefined. 
 
 " We may place our men, then, I think," observed the officer, with 
 as much indifference as if the principals were chess-men, and the 
 seconds players. 
 
 " I think we may," replied Mr. Snodgrass ; who would have assented 
 to any proposition, because he knew nothing about the matter. The 
 officer crossed to Doctor Slammer, and Mr. Snodgrass went up to Mr. 
 Winkle. 
 
 " It 's all ready," he said, offering the pistol. " Give me your cloak." 
 
 " You have got the packet, my dear fellow," said poor Winkle. 
 
 " All right," said Mr. Snodgrass. " Be steady, and wing him." 
 
 It occurred to Mr. Winkle that this advice was very like that which 
 by-standers invariably give to the smallest boy in a street fight ; namely, 
 " Go in, and win :" an admirable thing to recommend, if you only 
 know how to do it. He took off his cloak, however, in silence it 
 always took a long time to undo that cloak and accepted the pistol. 
 The seconds retired, the gentleman on the camp-stool did the same, 
 and the belligerents approached each other. 
 
 Mr. Winkle was always remarkable for extreme humanity. It is 
 conjectured that his -unwillingness to hurt a fellow-creature inten- 
 tionally, was the cause of his shutting his eyes when he arrived at the 
 fatal spot ; and that the circumstance of his eyes being closed, prevented 
 his observing the very extraordinary and unaccountable demeanour of 
 Doctor Slammer. That gentleman started, stared, retreated, rubbed his 
 eyes, stared again ; and, finally, shouted " Stop, stop!" 
 
 " What 's all this ? " said Doctor Slammer, as his friend and Mr. 
 Snodgrass came running up " That's not the man." 
 
 " Not the man !" said Doctor Slammer's second. 
 
 " Not the man !" said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Not the man !" said the gentleman with the camp-stool in his hand. 
 
 " Certainly not," replied the little doctor. "That 'snot the person 
 who insulted me last night." 
 
 "Very extraordinary!" exclaimed the officer. 
 
 " Very," said the gentleman with the camp-stool. " The only question 
 is, whether the gentleman, being on the ground, must not be considered, 
 as a matter of form, to be the individual who insulted our friend, Doctor 
 Slammer, yesterday evening, whether he is really that individual or not :'' 
 and having delivered this suggestion, with a very sage and mysterious 
 air, the man with the camp-stool took a large pinch of snuff, and looked 
 profoundly round, with the air of an authority in such matters. 
 
 Now Mr. Winkle had opened his eyes, and his ears too, when he 
 heard his adversary call out for a cessation of hostilities ; and perceiv- 
 ing by what he had afterwards said, that there was, beyond all question, 
 some mistake in the matter, he at once foresaw the increase of reputa- 
 tion he should inevitably acquire, by concealing the real motive of his 
 coming out : he therefore stepped boldly forward, and said-
 
 24 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I am not the person. I know it." 
 
 ""Then, that," said the man with the camp-stool, "is an affront to 
 Doctor Slammer, and a sufficient reason for proceeding immediately.". 
 
 " Pray be quiet, Payne," said the Doctor's second. " Why did you 
 not communicate this fact to me, this morning, sir?" 
 
 " To he sure to be sure," said the man with the camp-stool, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " I entreat you to be quiet, Payne," said the other. " May I repeat 
 my question, sir?" 
 
 "Because, sir," replied Mr. Winkle, who had had time to deliberate 
 upon his answer " because, sir, you described an intoxicated and 
 ungentlemanly person as wearing a coat, which I have the honour, not 
 only to wear, but to have invented the proposed uniform, sir, of the 
 Pickwick Club in London. The honour of that uniform I feel bound 
 to maintain, and I therefore, without inquiry, accepted the challenge 
 which you oifered me." 
 
 " My dear sir," said the good-humoured little doctor, advancing with 
 extended hand, " I honour your gallantry. Permit me to say, sir, that 
 I highly admire your conduct, and extremely regret having caused you 
 the inconvenience of this meeting, to no purpose." 
 
 "I beg you won't mention it, sir," said Mr. Winkle/ 
 
 " I shall feel proud of your acquaintance, sir," said the little doctor. 
 
 " It will afford me the greatest pleasure to know you, sir," replied 
 Mr. Winkle. Thereupon the Doctor and Mr. Winkle shook hands, 
 and then Mr. Winkle and Lieutenant Tappleton (the doctor's second), 
 and then Mr. Winkle and the man with the camp-stool, and, finally, Mr. 
 Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass: the last named gentleman in an excess of 
 admiration at the noble conduct of his heroic friend." 
 
 " I think we may adjourn," said Lieutenant Tappleton. 
 
 " Certainly," added the Doctor. 
 
 " Unless," interposed the man with the camp-stool, " unless Mr. 
 Winkle feels himself aggrieved by the challenge; in which case, I 
 submit, he has a right to satisfaction." 
 
 Mr. Winkle, with great self-denial, expressed himself quite satisfied 
 already. 
 
 " Or possibly," said the man with the camp-stool, " the gentleman's 
 second may feel himself affronted with some observations which fell 
 from me at an early period of this meeting : if so, I shall be happy to 
 give him satisfaction immediately." 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass hastily professed himself very much obliged with the 
 handsome offer of the gentleman who had spoken last, which he was 
 only induced to decline, by bis entire contentment with the whole pro- 
 ceedings. The two seconds adjusted the cases, and the whole party 
 left the ground in a much more lively manner than they had proceeded 
 to it. 
 
 "Do you remain long here?" inquired Doctor Slammer of Mr. 
 Winkle, as they walked on most amicably together. 
 
 "I think we shall leave here the day after to-morrow," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " I trust I shall have the pleasure of seeing you and your friend at
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 25 
 
 my rooms, and of spending a pleasant evening- with you, after this 
 awkward mistake," said the little doctor ; " are you disengaged this 
 evening?" 
 
 " We have some friends here," replied Mr. Winkle, " and I should not 
 like to leave them to-night. Perhaps you and your friend will ioin us 
 at the Bull." 
 
 " With great pleasure," said the little doctor ; " will ten o'clock be 
 too late to look in for half an hour?" 
 
 " Oh dear, no," said Mr. Winkle. " I shall be most happy to intro- 
 duce you to ray friends, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman. 
 
 '' It will give me great pleasure, I am sure," replied Doctor Slammer, 
 little suspecting who Mr. Tupman was. 
 
 " You will be sure to come?" said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Oh certainly." 
 
 By this time they had reached the road. Cordial farewells were 
 exchanged, and the party separated. Doctor Slammer and his friends 
 repaired to the barracks, and Mr. Winkle, accompanied by his friend, 
 Mr. Snodgrass, returned to their inn. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A NEW ACQUAINTANCE. THE STROLLER'S TALE A DISAGREEABLE 
 
 INTERRUPTION ; AND AN UNPLEASANT RENCONTRE. 
 
 MR. PICKWICK had felt some apprehensions in consequence of the 
 unusual absence of his two friends, which their mysterious behaviour 
 during the whole morning had by no means tended to diminish. It 
 was, therefore, with more than ordinary pleasure that he rose to greet 
 them when they again entered ; and with more than ordinary interest 
 that he inquired what had occurred to detain them from his society. 
 In reply to his questions on this point, Mr. Snodgrass was about to 
 offer an historical account of the circumstances just now detailed, when 
 he was suddenly checked, by observing that there were present, not 
 only Mr. Tupman and their stage-coach companion of the preceding 
 day, but another stranger of equally singular appearance. It was a 
 care-worn looking man, whose sallow face, and deeply sunken eyes, were 
 rendered still more striking than nature had made them, by the straight 
 black hair which hung in matted disorder half way down his face. His 
 eyes were almost unnaturally bright and piercing ; his cheek-bones 
 were high and prominent ; and his jaws were so long and lank, that an 
 observer would have supposed he was drawing the flesh of his face in, 
 for a moment, by some contraction of the muscles, if his half-opened 
 mouth and immoveable expression had not announced that it was his 
 ordinary appearance. Round his neck he wore a green shawl, with the 
 large ends straggling over his chest, and making their appearance 
 occasionally, beneath the worn button-holes of his old waistcoat. His 
 upper garment was a long black surtout ; and below it, he wore wide 
 drab trousers, and large boots, running rapidly to seed.
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS, &C. 
 
 It was on this uncouth-looking person, that Mr. Winkle's eye rested, 
 and it was towards him that Mr. Pickwick extended his hand, when he 
 said " A friend of our friend's here. We discovered this morning that 
 our friend was connected with the theatre in this place, though he is 
 not desirous to have it generally known, and this gentleman is a mem- 
 ber of the same profession. He was about to favour us with a little 
 anecdote connected with it, when you entered." 
 
 " Lots of anecdote," said the green-coated stranger of the day 
 before, advancing to Mr. Winkle and speaking in a low confidential 
 tone. " Rum fellow does the heavy business no actor strange man 
 all sorts of miseries dismal Jemmy, we call him on the circuit." Mr. 
 Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass politely welcomed the gentleman, elegantly 
 designated as " Dismal Jemmy ;" and calling for brandy and water, in 
 imitation of the remainder of the company, seated themselves at the 
 table. 
 
 " Now, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " will you oblige us with proceed- 
 ing with what you were going to relate ?" 
 
 The dismal individual took a dirty roll of paper from his pocket, and 
 turning to Mr. Snodgrass, who had just taken out his note-book, said 
 in a hollow voice, perfectly in keeping with his outward man " Are 
 you the poet ?" 
 
 " I I do a little in that way," replied Mr. Snodgrass, rather taken 
 aback by the abruptness of the question. 
 
 " Ah ! poetry makes life, what lights and music do the stage. Strip 
 the one of its false embellishments, and the other of its illusions, and 
 what is there real in either, to live or care for ?" 
 
 " Very true, Sir," replied Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " To be before the footlights," continued the dismal man, " is like 
 sitting at a grand, court show, and admiring the silken dresses of the 
 gaudy throng to be beUjnd them, is to be the people who make that 
 finery, uncared for and unknown, and left to sink or swim, to starve 
 or live, as fortune wills it." 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Snodgrass: for the sunken eye of the dismal 
 man rested on him, and he felt it necessary to say something. 
 
 " Go on, Jemmy," said the Spanish traveller, " like black eyed 
 Susan all in the Downs no croaking speak out look lively." 
 
 " Will you make another glass before you begin, Sir ?" said :*L . 
 Pickwick. 
 
 The dismal man took the hint, and having mixed a glass of brandy 
 and water, and slowly swallowed half of it, opened the roll of paper and 
 proceeded, partly to read and partly to relate, the following incident, 
 which we find recorded on the Transactions of the club, as " The 
 Stroller's Tale."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE STROLLER'S TALE. 
 
 " THERE is nothing of the marvellous in what I am going to relate," 
 said the dismal man ; " there is nothing even uncommon in it. Want 
 and sickness are too common in many stations of life, to deserve more 
 notice than is usually bestowed on the most ordinary vicissitudes of 
 human nature. I have thrown these few notes together, because the 
 subject of them was well known to me for many years. 1 traced his 
 progress downwards, step by step, until at last he reached that excess 
 of destitution from which he never rose again. 
 
 " The man of whom I speak was a low pantomime Jctor ; and, like 
 many people of his class, an habitual drunkard. In his better days, 
 before he had become enfeebled by dissipation and emaciated by disease, 
 he had been in the receipt of a good salary, which, if he had been 
 careful and prudent, he might have continued to receive for some years 
 not many ; because these men either die early, or, by unnaturally 
 taxing their bodily energies, lose, prematurely, those physical powers 
 on which alone they can depend for subsistence. His besetting sin 
 gained so fast upon him, however, that it was found impossible to 
 employ him in the situations in which he really was useful to the 
 theatre. The public-house had a fascination for him which he could 
 not resist. Neglected disease and hopeless poverty were as certain to 
 be his portion as death itself, if he persevered in the same course ; yet 
 he did persevere, and the result may be guessed. He could obtain no 
 engagement, and he wanted bread. 
 
 " Everybody who is at all acquainted with theatrical matters, knows 
 what a host of shabby, poverty-stricken men, hang about the stage of a 
 large establishment not regularly engaged actors, but ballet people, 
 procession men, tumblers, and so forth, who are taken on during the 
 run of a pantomime, or an Easter piece, and are then discharged, until 
 the production of some heavy spectacle occasions a new demand for 
 their services. To this mode of life the man was compelled to resort ; 
 and taking the chair every night, at some low theatrical house, at once 
 put him in possession of a few more shillings weekly, and enabled him 
 to gratify his old propensity. Even this resource shortly failed him ; his 
 irregularities were too great to admit of his earning the wretched 
 pittance he might thus have procured, and he was actually reduced to a 
 state bordering on starvation, only procuring a trifle occasionally by 
 borrowing it of some old companion, or by obtaining an appearance at 
 one or other of the commonest of the minor theatres ; and when he 
 did earn anything, it was spent in the old way. 
 
 " About this time, and when he had been existing for upwards of a 
 ysar no one knew how, I had a short engagement at one of the theatres 
 on the Surrey side of the water, and here I saw this man, whom I had
 
 28 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 lost sight of for some time ; for I had heen travelling in the provinces, 
 and he had been skulking in the lanes and alleys of London. I was 
 dressed to leave the house, and was crossing the stage on my way out, 
 when he tapped me on the shoulder. Never shall I forget the repul- 
 sive sight that met my eye when I turned round. He was dressed for 
 the pantomime, in all the absurdity of a clown's costume. The spectral 
 figures in the Dance of Death, the most frightful shapes that the ablest 
 painter ever portrayed on canvas, never presented an appearance half 
 so ghastly. His bloated body and shrunken legs their deformity 
 enhanced a hundred fold by the fantastic dress the glassy eyes, con- 
 trasting fearfully with the thick white paint with which the face was 
 besmeared : the grotesquely-ornamented head, trembling with paralysis, 
 and the long skinny hands, rubbed with white chalk all gave him a 
 hideous and unnatural appearance, of which no description could convey 
 an adequate idea, and which, to this day, I shudder to think of. His 
 voice was hollow and tremulous, as he took me aside, and in broken 
 words recountef a long catalogue of sickness and privations, terminating, 
 as usual, with an urgent request for the loan of a trifling sum of money. 
 I put a few shillings in his hand, and, as I turned away, I heard the 
 roar of laughter which followed his first tumble on to the stage. 
 
 " A few nights afterwards, a boy put a dirty scrap of paper in my 
 hand, on which were scrawled a few words in pencil, intimating that 
 the man was dangerously ill, and begging me, after the performance, to 
 see him at his lodgings in some street I forget the name of it now 
 at no great distance from the theatre. I promised to comply, as soon 
 as I could get away ; and, after the curtain fell, sallied forth on my 
 melancholy errand. 
 
 " It was late, for I had been playing in the last piece ; and, as it was 
 a benefit night, the performances had been protracted to an unusual 
 length. It was a dark cold night, with a chill damp wind, which blew 
 the rain heavily against the windows and house-fronts. Pools of water 
 had collected in the narrow and little-frequented streets, and as many 
 of the thinly-scattered oil-lamps had been blown out by the violence of 
 the wind, the walk was not only a comfortless, but most uncertain one. 
 I had fortunately taken the right course, however, and succeeded, after a 
 little difficulty, in finding the house to which I had been directed a coal 
 shed, with one story above it, in the back room of which lay the object 
 of my search. 
 
 " A wretched-looking woman, the man's wife, met me on the stairs, * 
 and, telling me that he had just fallen into a kind of doze, led me softly 
 in, and placed a chair for me at the bed-side. The sick man was lying 
 with his face turned towards the wall ; and as he took no heed of my 
 presence, I had leisure to observe the place in which I found myself. 
 
 " He was lying on an old bedstead, which turned up during the day. 
 The tattered remains of a checked curtain were drawn round the bed's 
 head, to exclude the wind, which however made its wav into the com- 
 fortless room through the numerous chinks in the door, and blew it to 
 and fro every instant. There was a low cinder fire in a rusty unfixed 
 grate ; and an old three-cornered stained table, with some medicine- 
 bottles, a broken glass, and a few other domestic articles, was draw out
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 29 
 
 before it. A little child was sleeping on a temporary bed which had 
 been made for it on the floor, and the woman sat on a chair by its side. 
 There were a couple of shelves, with a few plates and cups and saucers : 
 and a pair of stage shoes and a couple of foils hung beneath them. 
 With the exception of little heaps of rags and bundles which had been 
 carelessly thrown into the corners of the room, these were the only 
 things in the apartment. 
 
 " I had had time to note these little particulars, and to mark the 
 heavy breathing and feverish startings of the sick man, before he was 
 aware of my presence. In his restless attempts to procure some easy 
 resting-place for his head, he tossed his hand out of the bed, and it fell 
 on mine. He started up, and stared eagerly in my face. 
 
 " ' Mr. Hutley, John,' said his wife ; ' Mr. Hutley, that you sent 
 for to-night, you know.' 
 
 " < Ah ! ' said the invalid, passing his hand across his forehead ; 
 ' Hutley Hutley let me see.' He seemed endeavouring to collect his 
 thoughts for a few seconds, and then grasping me tightly by the wrist, 
 said, ' Don't leave me don't leave me, old fellow. She'll murder me ; 
 I know she will.' 
 
 " ' Has he been long so ?' said I, addressing his weeping wife. 
 
 " ' Since yesterday night,' she replied. John, John, don't you 
 know me?' 
 
 " ' Don't let her come near me,' said the man, with a shudder, as 
 she stooped over him. ' Drive her away ; I can't bear her near me.' 
 He stared wildly at her, with a look of deadly apprehension, and then 
 whispered in my ear, ' I beat her, Jem ; I beat her yesterday, and many 
 times before. I have starved her, and the boy too ; and now I am weak 
 and helpless, Jem, she'll murder me for it ; I know she will. If you'd 
 seen her cry, as I have, you'd know it too. Keep her off.' He relaxed 
 his grasp, and sunk back exhausted on the pillow. 
 
 " I knew but too well what all this meant. If I could have entertained 
 any doubt of it, for an instant, one glance at the woman's pale 
 face and wasted form would have sufficiently explained the real state 
 of the case. ' You had better stand aside,' said I to the poor creature. 
 You can do him no good. Perhaps he will be calmer, if he does not 
 see you.' She retired out of the man's sight. He opened his eyes, 
 after a few seconds, and looked anxiously round. 
 
 " ' Is she gone ? ' he eagerly inquired. 
 
 " ' Yes yes,' said I ; 'she shall not hurtyou.' 
 
 " c I'll tell you what, Jem,' said the man, in a low voice, ' she does 
 hurt me. There's something in her eyes wakes such a dreadful fear in 
 my heart, that it drives me mad. All last night, her large staring eyes 
 and pale face were close to mine ; wherever I turned, they turned ; and 
 whenever I started up from my sleep, she was at the bed-side looking 
 at me.' He drew me closer to him, as he said in a deep, alarmed whis- 
 per < Jem, she must be an evil spirit, a devil ! Hush ! I know she 
 is. If she had been a woman, she would have died long ago. No 
 woman could have borne what she has.' 
 
 " I sickened at the thought of the long course of cruelty and neglect 
 which must have occurred to produce such an impression on such a
 
 30 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 man. I could say nothing in reply; for who could offer hope, or conso- 
 lation, to the abject being- before me ? 
 
 " I sat there for upwards of two hours, during which time he tossed 
 about, murmuring exclamations of pain or impatience, restlessly throw- 
 ing his arms here and there, and turning constantly from side to side. 
 At length he fell into that state of partial unconsciousness, in which 
 the mind wanders uneasily from scene to scene, and from place to place, 
 without the control of reason, but still without being able to divest 
 itself of an indescribable sense of present suffering. Finding from his 
 incoherent wanderings that this was the case, and knowing that in all 
 probability the fever would not grow immediately worse, I left him, 
 promising his miserable wife that I would repeat my visit next evening, 
 and, if necessary, sit up with the patient during the night. 
 
 " I kept my promise. The last four and twenty hours had produced 
 a frightful alteration. The eyes, though deeply sunk and heavy, shone 
 with a lustre, frightful to behold. The lips were parched, and cracked 
 in many places : the dry hard skin glowed with a burning heat, and 
 there was an almost unearthly air of wild anxiety in the man's face, 
 indicating even more strongly the ravages of the disease. The fever 
 was at its height. 
 
 " I took the seat I had occupied the night before, and there I sat for 
 hours, listening to sounds which must strike deep to the heart of the 
 most callous among human beings the awful ravings of a dying man. 
 From what I had heard of the medical attendant's opinion, I knew 
 there was no hope for him : I was sitting by his death-bed. I saw the 
 wasted limbs, which a few hours before, had been distorted for the amuse- 
 ment of a boisterous gallery, writhing under the tortures of a burning 
 fever I heard the clown's shrill laugh, blending with the low murmur- 
 ings of the dying man. 
 
 " It is a touching thing to hear the mind reverting to the ordinary 
 occupations and pursuits of health, when the body lies before you weak 
 and helpless ; but when those occupations are of a character the most 
 strongly opposed to any thing we associate with grave or solemn ideas, 
 the impression produced is infinitely more powerful. The theatre, and the 
 public-house, were the chief themes of the wretched man's wanderings. 
 It was evening, he fancied ; he had a part to play that night ; it was 
 late, and he must leave home instantly. Why did they hold him, and 
 prevent his going he should lose the money he must go. No ! they 
 would not let him. He hid his face in his burning hands, and feebly 
 bemoaned his own weakness, and the cruelty of his persecutors. A 
 short pause, and he shouted out a few doggerel rhymes the last he had 
 ever learnt. He rose in bed, drew up his withered limbs, and rolled 
 about in uncouth positions ; he was acting he was at the theatre. A 
 minute's silence, and he murmured the burden of some roaring song. 
 He had reached the old house at last ; how hot the room was. He had 
 been ill, very ill, but he was well now, and happy. Fill up his glass. 
 Who was that, that dashed it from his lips ? It was the same perse- 
 cutor that had followed him before. He fell back upon his pillow, and 
 moaned aloud. A short period of oblivion, and he was wandering 
 through a tedious maze of low arched rooms so low, sometimes, that
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 31 
 
 he must creep upon his hands and knees to make his way along ; it was 
 close and dark, and every way he turned, some obstacle impeded his 
 progress. There were insects too, hideous crawling things, with eyes 
 that stared upon him, and filled the very air around : glistening horribly 
 amidst the thick darkness of the place. The walls and ceiling were 
 alive with reptiles the vault expanded to an enormous size frightful 
 figures flitted to and fro and the faces of men he knew, rendered 
 hideous by gibing and mouthing, peered out from among them ; they 
 were searing him with heated irons, and binding his head with cords 
 till the blood started ; and he struggled madly for life. 
 
 " At the close of one of these paroxysms, when I had with great 
 difficulty held him down in his bed, he sank into what appeared to 
 l>e a slumber. Overpowered with watching and exertion, I had closed 
 my eyes for a few minutes, when I felt a violent clutch on my shoulder. 
 I awoke instantly. He had raised himself up, so as to seat himself in 
 bed a dreadful change had come over his face, but consciousness had 
 returned, for he evidently knew me. The child who had been long 
 since disturbed by his ravings, rose from its little bed, and ran towards 
 its father, screaming with fright the mother hastily caught it in her 
 arms, lest he should injure it in the violence of his insanity: but, terrified 
 by the alteration of his features, stood transfixed by the bed-side. He 
 grasped my shoulder convulsively, and, striking his breast with the 
 other hand, made a desperate attempt to articulate. It was unavailing 
 he extended his arm towards them, and made another violent effort. 
 There was a rattling noise in the throat a glare of the eye a short 
 stifled groan and he fell back dead I " 
 
 It would afford us the highest gratification to be enabled to record 
 Mr. Pickwick's opinion of the foregoing anecdote. We have little 
 doubt that we should have been enabled to present it to our readers, 
 but for a most unfortunate occurrence. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had replaced on the table, the glass which, during the 
 last few sentences of the tale, he had retained in his hand ; and had just 
 made up his mind to speak indeed, we have the authority of Mr. 
 Snodgrass's note-book for stating, that he had actually opened his 
 mouth when the waiter entered the room, and said 
 
 " Some gentlemen, Sir." 
 
 It has been conjectured that Mr. Pickwick was on the point of deli- 
 vering some remarks which would have enlightened the world, if not the 
 Thames, when he was thus interrupted : for he gazed sternly on the 
 waiter's countenance, and then looked round on the company generally, 
 as if seeking for information relative to the new. comers. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mr. Winkle, rising, " some friends of mine show them 
 in. Very pleasant fellows," added Mr. Winkle, after the waiter had 
 retired " Officers of the 97th, whose acquaintance I made rather oddly 
 this morning. You will like them very much." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's equanimity was at once restored. The waiter 
 returned, and ushered three gentlemen into the room. 
 
 " Lieutenant Tappleton," said Mr. Winkle, " Lieutenant Tappleton, 
 Mr. Pickwick Doctor Payne, Mr. Pickwick Mr. Snodgrass, you have
 
 32 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 seen before : my friend Mr. Tupman, Doctor Payne Doctor Slammer, 
 Mr. Pickwick Mr. Tupman, Doctor Slam ". 
 
 Here Mr. Winkle suddenly paused ; for strong 1 emotion was visible 
 on the countenance both of Mr. Tnpinan and the Doctor. 
 
 " I have met this gentleman before," said the Doctor, with marked 
 emphasis. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 "And and that person, too, if I am not mistaken," said the Doctor, 
 bestowing- a scrutinizing glance on the green-coated stranger. " I think 
 I gave that person a very pressing invitation last night, which he 
 thought proper to decline." Saying which, the Doctor scowled mag- 
 nanimously on the stranger, and whispered his friend Lieutenant Tap- 
 pleton. 
 
 " You don't say so," said that gentleman, at the conclusion of the 
 whisper. 
 
 " I do, indeed," replied Doctor Slammer. 
 
 " You are bound to kick him on the spot," murmured the owner of 
 the camp-stool, with great importance. 
 
 " Do be quiet, Payne," interposed the Lieutenant. " Will you allow 
 me to ask you, Sir," he said, addressing Mr. Pickwick, who was consi- 
 derably mystified by this very unpolite by-play " Will you allow me to 
 ask you, Sir, whether that person belongs to your party?" 
 
 " No, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, " he is a guest of ours." 
 
 " He is a member of your club, or I am mistaken ? " said the Lieu- 
 tenant, inquiringly. 
 
 " Certainly not," responded Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " And never wears your club-button ? " said the Lieutenant. 
 
 " No never! " replied the astonished Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Lieutenant Tappleton turned round to his friend Doctor Slammer, 
 with a scarcely perceptible shrug of the shoulder, as if implying some 
 doubt of the accuracy of his recollection. The little Doctor looked 
 wrathful, but confounded ; and Mr. Payne gazed with a ferocious aspect 
 on the beaming countenance of the unconscious Pickwick. 
 
 " Sir," said the Doctor, suddenly addressing Mr. Tupman, in a tone 
 which made that gentleman start as perceptibly as if a pin had been 
 cunningly inserted in the calf of his leg " you were at the ball here, 
 last night ? " 
 
 Mr. Tupman gasped a faint affirmative ; looking very hard at Mr. 
 Pickwick all the while. 
 
 " That person was your companion," said the Doctor, pointing to 
 the still unmoved stranger. 
 
 Mr. Tupman admitted the fact. 
 
 " Now, Sir," said the Doctor to the stranger, "I ask you once again, 
 in the presence of these gentlemen, whether you choose to give me 
 your card, and to receive the treatment of a gentleman ; or whether you 
 impose upon me the necessity of personally chastising you on the 
 spot ? " 
 
 " Stay, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " I really cannot allow this matter 
 to go any further without some explanation. Tupman, recount the 
 circumstances."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 33 
 
 Mr. Tupman, thus solemnly adjured, stated the case in a few words ; 
 touched slightly on the borrowing of the coat; expatiated largely on its 
 having been done " after dinner;" wound up with a little penitence on 
 his own account; and left the stranger to clear himself as he best could. 
 
 He was apparently about to proceed to do so, when Lieutenant Tap- 
 pleton, who had been eyeing him with great curiosity, said with consi- 
 derable scorn " Haven't I seen you at the theatre, Sir ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied the unabashed stranger. 
 
 " He is a strolling actor," said the Lieutenant, contemptuously : 
 turning to Dr. Slammer " He acts in the piece that the Officers of the 
 52nd get up at the Rochester theatre to-morrow night. You cannot 
 proceed in this affair, Slammer impossible! " 
 
 " Quite ! " said the dignified Payne. 
 
 " Sorry to have placed you in this disagreeable situation, "said Lieu- 
 tenant Tappleton, addressing Mr. Pickwick, "allow me to suggest, 
 that the best way of avoiding a recurrence of such scenes in future, 
 will be to he more select in the choice of your companions. Good 
 evening, Srr ! " and the Lieutenant bounced out of the room. 
 
 " And allow me to say, Sir," said the irascible Doctor Payne, " that 
 if I had been Tappleton, or if I had been Slammer, I would have pulled 
 your nose, Sir, and the nose of every man in this company. I would, 
 Sir, every man. Payne is my name, Sir Doctor Payne of the 43rd. 
 Good evening, Sir." Having concluded this speech, and uttered the 
 three last words in a loud key, he stalked majestically after his friend, 
 closely followed by Doctor Slammer, who said nothing, but contented 
 himself by withering the company with a look. 
 
 Rising rage and extreme bewilderment had swelled the noble breast 
 of Mr. Pickwick, almost to the bursting of his waistcoat, during the 
 delivery of the above defiance. He stood transfixed to the spot, gazing on 
 vacancy. The closing of the door recalled him to himself. He rushed 
 forward with fury in his looks, and fire in his eye. His hand was upon 
 the lock of the door ; in another instant it would have been on the 
 throat of Doctor Payne of the 43rd, had not Mr. Snodgrass seized his 
 revered leader by the coat tail, and dragged him backwards. 
 
 " Restrain him," cried Mr. Snodgrass, " Winkle, Tupman he 
 must not peril his distinguished life in such a cause as this." 
 
 " Let me go," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Hold him tight," shouted Mr. Snodgrass ; and by the united 
 efforts of the whole company, Mr. Pickwick was forced into an arm 
 chair. 
 
 " Leave him alone," said the green-coated stranger "brandy and 
 water jolly old gentleman lots of pluck swallow this ah I capital 
 stuff." Having previously tested the virtues of a bumper, which had 
 been mixed by the dismal man, the stranger applied the glass to Mr. 
 Pickwick's mouth ; and the remainder of its contents rapidly disap- 
 peared. 
 
 There was a short pause ; the brandy and water had done its work ; 
 the amiable countenance of Mr. Pickwick was fast recovering its custo- 
 mary expression. 
 
 " They are not worth your notice," said the dismal man.
 
 34 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " You are right, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, they are not. I am 
 ashamed to have been betrayed into this warmth of feeling. Draw 
 your chair up to the table, Sir." 
 
 The dismal man readily complied : a circle was again formed round 
 the table, and harmony once more prevailed. Some lingering irritabi- 
 lity appeared to find a resting place in Mr. Winkle's bosom, occasioned 
 possibly by the temporary abstraction of his coat though it is scarcely 
 reasonable to suppose, that so slight a circumstance can have excited 
 even a passing feeling of anger in a Pickwickian breast. With this 
 exception, their good humour was completely restored ; and the 
 evening concluded with the conviviality with which it had begun. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A FIELD-DAY AND BIVOUAC MORE NEW FRIENDS; AND AN INVI- 
 TATION TO THE COUNTRY. 
 
 MANY authors entertain, not only a foolish, but a really dishonest 
 objection, to acknowledge the sources from whence they derive much 
 valuable information. We have no such feeling. We are merely en- 
 deavouring to discharge in an upright manner, the responsible duties of 
 our editorial functions ; and whatever ambition we might have felt 
 under other circumstances, to lay claim to the authorship of these 
 adventures, a regard for truth forbids us to do more, than claim the 
 merit of their judicious arrangement, and impartial narration. The 
 Pickwick papers are our New River Head ; and we may be compared 
 to the New River Company. The labours o.f others, have raised for us 
 an immense reservoir of important facts. We merely lay them on, 
 and communicate them, in a clear and gentle stream, through the 
 medium of these numbers, to a world thirsting for Pickwickian 
 knowledge. 
 
 Acting in this spirit, and resolutely proceeding on our determination 
 to avow our obligations to,the authorities we have consulted, we frankly 
 say, that to the note-book of Mr. Snodgrass are we indebted for the 
 particulars recorded in this, and the succeeding chapter particu- 
 lars, which, now that we have disburdened our conscience, we shall 
 proceed to detail without further comment. 
 
 The whole population of Rochester and the adjoining towns, rose 
 from their beds at an early hour of the following morning, in a state 
 of the utmost bustle and excitement. A grand review was to take 
 place upon the lines. The manoeuvres of half a dozen regiments were 
 to be inspected by the eagle eye of the commander-in-chief; temporary 
 fortifications had been erected, the citadel was to be attacked and 
 taken, and a mine was to be sprung. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was, as our readers may have gathered from the slight 
 extract we gave from his description of Chatham, an enthusiastic 
 admirer of the army. Nothing could have been more delightful to him
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 85 
 
 nothing could have harmonized so well with the peculiar feeling of 
 each of his companions as this sight. Accordingly they were soon 
 a-foot, and walking in the direction of the scene of action, towards 
 which crowds of people were already pouring, from a variety of quarters. 
 
 The appearance of everything on the lines, denoted that the ap- 
 proaching ceremony was one of the utmost grandeur and importance. 
 There were sentries posted to keep the ground for the troops, and 
 servants on the batteries keeping places for the ladies, and sergeants 
 running to and fro, with vellum covered books under their arms, and 
 Colonel Bulder, in full military uniform, on horseback, gallopping first 
 to one place and then to another, and backing his horse among the 
 people, and prancing, and curvetting, and shouting in a most alarming 1 
 manner, and making himself very hoarse in the voice, and very red in 
 the face, without any assignable cause or reason whatever. Officers 
 were running backwards and forwards, first communicating with Colonel 
 Bulder, and then ordering the sergeants, and then running away alto- 
 gether: and even the very privates themselves looked from behind 
 their glazed stocks with an air of mysterious solemnity, which suffi- 
 ciently bespoke the special nature of the occasion. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick and his three companions stationed themselves in the 
 front rank of the crowd, and patiently awaited the commencement of 
 the proceedings. The throng was increasing every moment ; and the 
 efforts they were compelled to make, to retain the position they had 
 gained, sufficiently occupied their attention during the two hours that 
 ensued. At one time there was a sudden pressure from behind ; and 
 then Mr. Pickwick was jerked forward for several yards, with a degree 
 of speed and elasticity highly inconsistent with the general gravity of 
 his demeanour ; at another moment there was a request to " keep 
 back " from the front, and then the butt end of a musket was either 
 dropped upon Mr. Pickwick's toe, to remind him of the demand, or 
 thrust into his chest to ensure its being complied with. Then some 
 facetious gentlemen on the left, after pressing sideways in a body, and 
 squeezing Mr. Snodgrass into the very last extreme of human torture, 
 would request to know " vere he vos a shovin' to," and when Mr. 
 Winkle had done expressing his excessive indignation at witnessing 
 this unprovoked assault, some person behind would knock his hat over 
 his eyes, and beg the favour of his putting his head in his pocket. 
 These, and other practical witticisms, coupled with the unaccountable 
 absence of Mr. Tupman (who had suddenly disappeared, and was 
 nowhere to be found), rendered their situation upon the whole rather 
 more uncomfortable, than pleasing or desirable. 
 
 At length that low roar of many voices ran through the crowd, 
 which usually announces the arrival of whatever they have been 
 waiting for. All eyes were turned in the direction of the sally-port. 
 A few moments of eager expectation, and colours were seen fluttering 
 gaily in the air, arms glistened brightly in the sun : column after 
 column poured on to the plain. The troops halted and formed ; the 
 word of command rung through the line, there was a general clash of 
 muskets, as arms were presented ; and the commander-in-chief, attended 
 by Colonel Bulder and numerous officers cantered to the front. The
 
 36 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 military bands struck up altogether : the horses stood upon two legs 
 each, cantered backwards, and whisked their tails about in all direc- 
 tions : the dog-s barked, the mob screamed, the troops recovered, and 
 nothing 1 was to be seen on either side, as far as the eye could reach, but 
 a long perspective of red coats and white trousers, fixed and motionless. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had been so fully occupied in falling about, and disen- 
 tangling himself, miraculously, from between the legs of horses, that 
 he had not enjoyed sufficient leisure to observe the scene before him, 
 until it assumed the appearance we have just described. When he was 
 at last enabled to stand firmly on his legs, his gratification and delight 
 were unbounded. 
 
 "Can anything be finer, or more delightful?" he inquired of Mr 
 Winkle. 
 
 " Nothing," replied that gentleman, who had had a short man 
 standing on each of his feet,for the quarter of an hour immediately 
 preceding. 
 
 " It is indeed a noble and a brilliant sight," said Mr. Snodgrass, in 
 whose bosom a blaze of poetry was rapidly bursting forth, " to see the 
 gallant defenders of their country, drawn up in brilliant array before its 
 peaceful citizens : their faces beaming not with warlike ferocity, but 
 with civilized gentleness: their eyes flashing not with the rude fire 
 of rapine or revenge, but with the soft light of humanity and intel- 
 ligence." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick fully entered into the spirit of this enlogium, but he 
 could not exactly re-echo its terms ; for the soft light of intelligence 
 burnt rather feebly in the eyes of the warriors, inasmuch as the com- 
 mand " eyes front" had been given ; and all the spectator saw before 
 him was several thousand pair of optics, staring straight forward, wholly 
 divested of any expression whatever. 
 
 " We are in a capital situation, now," said Mr. Pickwick, looking 
 round him. The crowd had gradually dispersed from their immediate 
 vicinity, and they were nearly alone. 
 
 " Capital!" echoed both Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle'. 
 
 " What are they doing now?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, adjusting his 
 spectacles. 
 
 " I I rather think," said Mr. Winkle, changing colour " I 
 rather think they're going to fire." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily. 
 
 "I I really think they are," urged Mr. Snodgrass, somewhat 
 alarmed. 
 
 " Impossible," replied Mr. Pickwick. He had hardly uttered the 
 word, when the whole half dozen regiments levelled their muskets as 
 if they had but one common object, and that object the Pickwickians ; 
 and burst forth with the most awful and tremendous discharge, that 
 ever shook the earth to its centre, or an elderly gentleman off his. 
 
 It was in this trying situation, exposed to a galling fire of blank car- 
 tridges, and harassed by the operations of the military, a fresh body of 
 whom had begun to fall in, on the opposite side, that Mr. Pickwick 
 displayed that perfect coolness and self-possession, which are the indis- 
 pensable accompaniments of a great mind. He seized Mr. Winkle by
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 37 
 
 the arm, and placing himself between that gentleman and Mr. Snod- 
 grass, earnestly besought them to remember that beyond the possibility 
 of being rendered deaf by the noise, there was no immediate danger to 
 be apprehended from the firing. 
 
 " But but suppose some of the men should happen to have ball 
 cartridges by mistake," remonstrated Mr. Winkle, pallid at the suppo- 
 sition he was himself conjuring up. " I heard something whistle 
 through the air just now so sharp : close to my ear." 
 
 " We had better throw ourselves on our faces, hadn't we?" said Mr. 
 Snodgrass. 
 
 " No, no it's over now," said Mr. Pickwick. His lip might quiver, 
 and his cheek might blanch, but no expression of fear or concern 
 escaped the lips of that immortal man. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was right : the firing ceased ; but he had scarcely 
 time to congratulate himself on the accuracy of his opinion, when a 
 quick movement was visible in the line : the hoarse shout of the word 
 of command ran along it, and before either of the party could form a 
 guess at the meaning of this new manoeuvre, the whole of the half 
 dozen regiments, with fixed bayonets, charged at double quick time 
 down upon the very spot on which Mr. Pickwick and his friends were 
 stationed. 
 
 Man is but mortal; and there is a point beyond which human cou- 
 rage cannot extend. Mr. Pickwick gazed through his spectacles for an 
 instant on the advancing mass ; and then fairly turned his back and 
 we will not say fled ; first, because it is an ignoble term, and, secondly, 
 because Mr. Pickwick's figure was by no means adapted for that mode 
 of retreat he trotted away, at as quick a rate as his legs would convey 
 him ; so quickly, indeed, that he did not perceive the awkwardness of 
 his situation, to the full extent, until too late. 
 
 The opposite troops, whose falling-in had perplexed Mr. Pickwick a 
 few seconds before, were drawn up to repel the mimic attack of the 
 sham besiegers of the citadel ; and the consequence was, that Mr. 
 Pickwick and his two companions found themselves suddenly inclosed 
 between two lines of great length ; the one advancing at a rapid pace, 
 and the other firmly waiting the collision in hostile array. 
 
 " Hoi !" shouted the officers of the advancing line 
 
 " Get out of the way," cried the officers of the stationary one. 
 
 " W 7 here are we to go to?" screamed the agitated Pickwickians. 
 
 " Hoi hoi hoi," was the only reply. There was a moment of 
 intense bewilderment, a heavy tramp of footsteps, a violent concussion; 
 a smothered laugh the half dozen regiments were half a thousand 
 yards off; and the soles of Mr. Pickwick's boots were elevated in air. 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle had each performed a compulsory 
 summerset with remarkable agility, when the first object that met the 
 eyes of the latter as he sat on the ground, staunching with a yellow 
 silk handkerchief the stream of life which issued from his nose, was his 
 venerated leader at some distance off, running after his own hat, which 
 was gambolling playfully away in perspective. 
 
 There are very few moments in a man's existence, when he expe- 
 riences so much ludicrous distress, or meets with so little charitable
 
 38 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 commiseration, as when he is in pursuit of his own hat. A vast deal 
 of coolness, and a peculiar degree of judgment, are requisite in catching 
 a hat. A man must not be precipitate, or he runs over it : he must 
 not rush into the opposite extreme, or he loses it altogether. The best 
 way is, to keep gently up with the object of pursuit, to be wary and 
 cautious, to watch your opportunity well, get gradually before it, then 
 make a rapid dive, seize it by the crown, and stick it firmly on your 
 head : smiling pleasantly all the time, as if you thought it as good a 
 joke as anybody else. 
 
 There was a fine gentle wind, and Mr. Pickwick's hat rolled 
 sportively before it. The wind puffed, and Mr. Pickwick puffed, and 
 the hat rolled over and over as merrily as a lively porpoise in a strong 
 tide ; and on it might have rolled, far beyond Mr. Pickwick's reach, 
 had not its course been providentially stopped, just as that gentleman 
 was on the point of resigning it to its fate. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, we say, was completely exhausted, and about to give 
 up the chase, when the hat was blown with some violence against the 
 wheel of a carriage, which was drawn up in a line with half-a-dozen 
 other vehicles, on the spot to which his steps had been directed. Mr. 
 Pickwick, perceiving his advantage, darted briskly forward, secured his 
 property, planted it on his head, and paused to take breath. He 
 had not been stationary half a minute, when he heard his own name 
 eagerly pronounced by a voice, which he at once recognised as Mr. 
 Tupman's, and, looking upwards, he beheld a sight which filled him 
 with surprise and pleasure. 
 
 In an open barouche, the horses of which had been taken out, the 
 better to accommodate it to the crowded place, stood a stout old gentle- 
 man, in a blue coat and bright buttons, corderoy breeches and top 
 boots, two young ladies in scarfs and feathers, a young gentleman 
 apparently enamoured of one of the young ladies in scarfs and feathers, 
 a lady of doubtful age, probably the aunt of the aforesaid, and Mr. 
 Tupman, as easy and unconcerned as if he had belonged to the family 
 from the first moments of his infancy. Fastened up behind the barouche 
 was a hamper of spacious dimensions one of those hampers which 
 always awakens in a contemplative mind, associations connected with 
 cold fowls, tongue, and bottles of wine and on the box sat a fat and 
 red-faced boy, in a state of somnolency, whom no speculative observer 
 could have regarded for an instant without setting down as the official 
 dispenser of the contents of the before-mentioned hamper, when the 
 proper time for their consumption should arrive. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had bestowed a hasty glance on these interesting 
 objects, when he was again greeted by his faithful disciple. 
 
 " Pickwick Pickwick," said Mr. Tupman ; " come up here. Make 
 haste." 
 
 " Come along, Sir. Pray, come up," said the stout gentleman. 
 " Joe! damn that boy, he's gone to sleep again. Joe, let down the 
 steps." The fat boy rolled slowly off the box, let down the steps, and 
 held the carriage door invitingly open. Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle 
 came up at the moment. 
 
 " Room for you all, gentlemen," said the stout man. " Two inside,
 


 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 39 
 
 and one out. Joe, make room for one of these gentlemen on the box. 
 Now, Sir, come along-;" and the stout gentleman extended his arm, 
 and pulled first Mr. Pickwick, and then Mr. Snodgrass, into the 
 barouche by main force. Mr. Winkle mounted to the box, the fat boy 
 waddled to the same perch, and fell fast asleep instantly. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said the stout man, " very glad to see you. 
 Know you very well, gentlemen, though you mayn't remember me. 
 I spent some ev'nins at your club last winter picked up my friend 
 Mr. Tupman here this morning, and very glad I was to see him. Well, 
 Sir, and how are you ? You do look uncommon well, to be sure." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick acknowledged the compliment, and cordially shook 
 hands with the stout gentleman in the top boots. 
 
 " Well, and how are you, Sir?" said the stout gentleman, addressing 
 Mr. Snodgrass with paternal anxiety. " Charming, eh ? Well, that's 
 right that's right. And how are you, Sir (to Mr. Winkle) ? Well, 
 I am glad to hear you say you are well ; very glad I am, to be sure. 
 My daughters, gentlemen my gals these are ; and that's my sister, 
 Miss Rachael Wardle. She's a Miss, she is ; and yet she an't a Miss 
 eh, Sir eh?" And the stout gentleman playfully inserted his 
 elbow between the ribs of Mr. Pickwick, and laughed very heartily. 
 
 " Lor, brother?" said Miss Wardle, with a deprecating smile. 
 
 " True, true," said the stout gentleman ; " no one can deny it. 
 Gentlemen, I beg your pardon ; this is my friend Mr. Trundle. And 
 now you all know each other, let's be comfortable and happy, and see 
 what's going forward ; that's what I say." So the stout gentleman put 
 on his spectacles, and Mr. Pickwick pulled out bis glass, and everybody 
 stood up in the carriage, and looked over somebody else's shoulder at 
 the evolutions of the military. 
 
 Astounding evolutions they were, one rank firing over the heads of 
 another rank, and then running away ; and then the other rank firing 
 over the heads of another rank, and running away in their turn ; and 
 then forming squares, with officers in the centre ; and then descending 
 the trench on one side with scaling ladders, and ascending it on the 
 other again by the same means ; and knocking down barricades of 
 baskets, and behaving in the most gallant manner possible. Then there 
 was such a ramming down of the contents of enormous guns on the 
 battery, with instruments like magnified mops ; such a preparation 
 before they were let off, and such an awful noise when they did go, that 
 the air resounded with the screams of ladies. The young Miss Wardles 
 were so frightened, that Mr. Trundle was actually obliged to hold one 
 of them up in the carriage, while Mr. Snodgrass supported the other; 
 and Mr. Wardle's sister suffered under such a dreadful state of nervous 
 alarm, that Mr. Tupman found it indispensably necessary to put his arm 
 round her waist, to keep her up at all. Everybody was excited, except 
 the fat boy, and he slept as soundly as if the roaring of cannon were 
 his ordinary lullaby. 
 
 " Joe, Joe!" said the stout gentleman, when the citadel was taken, 
 and the besiegers and besieged sat down to dinner. " Damn that boy, 
 he's gone to sleep again. Be good enough to pinch him, Sir in the
 
 40 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 leg, if you p.ease ; nothing else wakes him thank you. Undo the 
 hamper, Joe." 
 
 The fat boy, who had been effectually roused by the compression of 
 a portion of his leg, between the finger and thumb of Mr. Winkle, 
 rolled off the box once again, and proceeded to unpack the hamper, 
 with more expedition than could have been expected from his previous 
 inactivity. 
 
 " Now, we must sit close," said the stout gentleman. After a great 
 many jokes about squeezing the ladies' sleeves, and a vast quantity of 
 blushing at sundry jocose proposals, that the ladies should sit in the 
 gentlemen's laps, the whole party were stowed down in the barouche ; 
 and the stout gentleman proceeded to hand the things from the fat boy 
 (who had mounted up behind for the purpose) into the carriage. 
 
 " Now, Joe, knives and forks." The knives and forks were handed 
 in, and the ladies and gentlemen inside, and Mr. Winkle on the box, 
 were each furnished with those useful implements. 
 
 " Plates, Joe, plates." A similar process employed in the distribution 
 of the crockery. 
 
 " Now, Joe, the fowls. Damn that boy ; he's gone to sleep again. 
 Joe I Joe !" (Sundry taps on the head with a stick, and the fat boy, 
 with some difficulty, roused from his lethargy). " Come, hand in the 
 eatables." 
 
 There was something in the sound of the last word, which roused the 
 unctuous boy. He jumped up: and the leaden eyes, which twinkled 
 behind his mountainous cheeks, leered horribly upon the food as he 
 unpacked it from the basket. 
 
 " Now, make haste," said Mr. Wardle ; for the fat boy was hanging 
 fondly over a capon, which he seemed wholly unable to part with. The 
 boy sighed deeply, and, bestowing an ardent gaze upon its plumpness, 
 unwillingly consigned it to his master. 
 
 " That's right look sharp. Now the tongue now the pigeon-pie. 
 Take care of that veal and ham mind the lobsters take the salad out 
 of the cloth give me the dressing." Such were the hurried orders 
 which issued from the lips of Mr. Wardle, as he handed in the different 
 articles described, and placed dishes in everybody's hands, and on 
 everybody's knees, in endless number. 
 
 " Now, aint this capital ? " inquired that jolly personage, when 
 the work of destruction had commenced. 
 
 " Capital I" said Mr. Winkle, who was carving a fowl on the box. 
 
 " Glass of wine ? " 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure." 
 
 " You'd better have a bottle to yourself, up there, hadn't you ?" 
 
 " You're very good." 
 
 "Joe!" 
 
 " Yes, Sir." (He wasn't asleep this time, having just succeeded in 
 abstracting a veal patty). 
 
 " Bottle of wine to the gentleman on the box. Glad to see you, Sir." 
 
 " Thankee." Mr. Winkle emptied his glass, and placed the bottle 
 on the coach-box, by his side.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 41 
 
 " Will you permit me to have the pleasure, Sir?" said Mr. Trundle 
 to Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " With great pleasure," replied Mr. Winkle to Mr. Trundle; and 
 then the two gentlemen took wine, after which they took a glass of wine 
 round, ladies and all. 
 
 " How dear Emily is flirting with the strange gentleman," whispered 
 the spinster aunt, with true spinster-aunt-like eiivy, to her brother 
 Mr. Wardle. 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know," said the jolly old gentleman ; " all very 
 natural, I dare say nothing unusual. Mr. Pickwick, some wine, Sir ?" 
 Mr. Pickwick, who had heen deeply investigating the interior of the 
 pigeon-pie, readily assented. 
 
 " Emily, my dear," said the spinster aunt, with a patronising air, 
 " don't talk so loud, love." 
 
 " Lor, aunt !" 
 
 " Aunt and the little old gentleman want to have it all to them- 
 selves, I think," whispered Miss Isabella Wardle to her sister Emily. 
 The young ladies laughed very heartily, and the old one tried to 
 look amiable, but couldn't manage it. 
 
 " Young girls have such spirits," said Miss Wardle to Mr. 
 Tupman, with an air of gentle commiseration, as if animal spirits 
 were contraband, and their possession without a permit, a high crime 
 and misdemeanour. 
 
 " Oh, they have," replied Mr. Tupman, not exactly making the sort 
 of reply that was expected from him. " It's quite delightful." 
 
 " Hem !" said Miss Wardle, rather dubiously. 
 
 " Will you permit me," said Mr. Tupman, in his blandest manner, 
 touching the enchanting Rachael's wrist with one hand, and gently 
 elevating the bottle with the other. " Will you permit me ?" 
 
 " Oh, Sir ! " Mr. Tupman looked most impressive ; and Rachael ex- 
 pressed her fear that more guns were going off, in which case, of course, 
 she would have required support again. 
 
 " Do you think my dear nieces pretty? " whispered their affectionate 
 aunt to Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " I should, if their aunt wasn't here," replied the ready Pickwickian, 
 with a passionate glance. 
 
 " Oh, you naughty man but really, if their complexions were a 
 little better, don't you think they would be nice-looking girls by 
 candle-light ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I think they would ;" said Mr. Tupman, with an air of 
 indifference. 
 
 " Oh, you quiz I know what you were going to say." 
 
 " What ? " inquired Mr. Tupman, who had not precisely made up 
 his mind to say anything at all. 
 
 " You were going to say, that Isabella stoops I know you were 
 you men are such observers. Well, so she does ; it can't be denied ; 
 and, certainly, if there is one thing more than another that makes a 
 girl look ugly, it is stooping. I often tell her, that when she gets a 
 little older, she'll be quite frightful. Well, you are a quiz !''
 
 42 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Tupman had no objection to earning the reputation at so cheap a 
 rate : so he looked very knowing, and smiled mysteriously. 
 
 " What a sarcastic smile," said the admiring Rachael ; " I declare 
 I'm quite afraid of you." 
 
 " Afraid of me ! " 
 
 " Oh, you can't disguise any thing from me I know what that 
 smile means, very well." 
 
 " What ? " said Mr. Tupman, who had not the slightest notion 
 himself. 
 
 " You mean," said the amiable aunt, sinking her voice still lower 
 " You mean, that you don't think Isabella's stooping is as bad as 
 Emily's boldness. Well, she is bold I You cannot think how wretched 
 it makes me sometimes I'm sure I cry about it for hours together 
 my dear brother is so good, and so unsuspicious, that he never sees it ; 
 if he did, I'm quite certain it would break his heart. I wish I could 
 think it was only manner I hope it may be " (here the affectionate 
 relative heaved a deep sigh, and shook her head despondingly). 
 
 " I'm sure aunt's talking about us," whispered Miss Emily Wardle 
 to her sister " I m quite certain of it she looks so malicious." 
 
 " Is she ? " replied Isabella " Hem ! aunt, dear ! " 
 
 " Yes, my dear love ! " 
 
 " I'm so afraid you'll catch cold, aunt have a silk handerchief to 
 tie round your dear old head you really should take care of yourself 
 consider your age ! " 
 
 However well deserved this piece of retaliation might have been, it 
 was as vindictive a one as could well have been resorted to. There is 
 no guessing in what form of reply the aunt's indignation would have 
 vented itself, had not Mr. Wardle unconsciously changed the subject, 
 by calling emphatically for Joe. 
 
 " Damn that boy," said the old gentleman, " he's gone to sleep 
 again." 
 
 " Very extraordinary boy, that," said Mr. Pickwick, " does he always 
 sleep in this way ? " 
 
 " Sleep ! " said the old gentleman, " he's always asleep. Goes on 
 errands fast asleep, and snores as he waits at table." 
 
 " How very odd I " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah ! odd indeed," returned the old gentleman ; " I'm proud of that 
 boy wouldn't part with him on any account damme, he's a natural 
 curiosity ! Here, Joe Joe take these things away, and open another 
 bottle d'ye hear ? " 
 
 The fat boy rose, opened his eyes, swallowed the huge piece of pie 
 he had been in the act of masticating when he last fell asleep, and 
 slowly obeyed his master's orders gloating languidly er the remains 
 of the feast, as he removed the plates, and deposited them in the ham- 
 per. The fresh bottle was produced, and speedily emptied : the hamper 
 was made fast in its old place the fat boy once more mounted the box 
 the spectacles and pocket-glass were again adjusted and the cvolu- 
 lutions of the military recommenced. There was a great fizzing and 
 banging of guns, and starting of ladies and then a mine was sprung,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 43 
 
 to the gratification of every body ami when the mine had, gone off, 
 the military and the company followed its example, and went off too. 
 
 " Now, mind," said the old gentleman, as he shook hands with Mr. 
 Pickwick at the conclusion of a conversation which had heen carried on 
 at intervals, during the conclusion of the proceedings " we shall see 
 you all to-morrow." 
 
 " Most certainly," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " You have got the address ? " 
 
 " Manor Farm, Dingley Dell," said Mr. Pickwick, consulting his 
 pocket-book. 
 
 " That's it," said t'.e old gentleman. " I don't let you off, mind, 
 under a week ; and undertake that you shall see everything worth see- 
 ing. If you've come down for a country life, come to me, and I'll give 
 you plenty of it. Joe damn that hoy, he's gone to sleep again Joe, 
 help Tom put in the horses." 
 
 The horses were put. in the driver mounted the fat boy clambered 
 up by his side farewells were exchanged and the carriage rattled off. 
 As the Pickwickians turned round to take a last glimpse of it, the set- 
 ting sun cast a rich glow on the faces of their entertainers, and fell 
 upon the form of the fat boy. His head was sunk upon his bosom ; and 
 he slumbered again. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A SHORT ONE SHOWING, AMONG OTHER MATTERS, HOW MR. 
 
 PICKWICK UNDERTOOK TO DRIVE, AND MR. WINKLE TO RIDE; 
 AND HOW THEY BOTH DID IT. 
 
 BRIGHT and pleasant was the sky, balmy the air, and beautiful the 
 appearance of every object around, as Mr. Pickwick leant over the 
 balustrades of Rochester Bridge, contemplating nature, and waiting for 
 breakfast. The scene was indeed one, which might well have charmed 
 a far less reflective mind, than that to which it was presented. 
 
 On the left of the spectator lay the ruined wall, broken in many 
 places, and in some, overhanging the narrow beach below in rude and 
 heavy masses. Huge knots of sea-weed hung upon the jagged and 
 pointed stones, trembling in every breath of wind ; and the green ivy 
 clung mournfully round the dark, and ruined battlements. Behind 
 it rose the ancient castle, its towers roofless, and its massive walls 
 crumbling away, but telling us proudly of its old might and strength, 
 as when, seven hundred years ago, it rang with the clash of arms, or 
 resounded with .he noise of feasting and revelry. On either side, the 
 banks of the Medway, covered with corn-fields and pastures, with here 
 and there a windmill, or a distant church, stretched away as far as the 
 eye could see, presenting a rich and varied landscape, rendered more 
 beautiful by the changing shadows which passed swiftly across it, as 
 the thin and half-formed clouds skimmed away in the light of the 
 morning sun. The river, reflecting the clear blue of the sky, glistened 
 and sparkled as it flowed noiselessly on ; and the oars of the fishenr.ej)
 
 44 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 dipped into the water with a clear and liquid sound, as their heavy hut 
 picturesque boats glided slowly down the stream. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was roused from the agreeable reverie into which he 
 had been led by the objects before him, by a deep sigh, and a touch on 
 his shoulder. He turned round : and the dismal man was at his side. 
 
 " Contemplating the scene ? " inquired the dismal man. 
 
 " I was," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " And congratulating yourself on being up so soon ? " Mr. Pickwick 
 nodded assent. 
 
 " Ah ! people need to rise early, to see the sun in all bis splendour, 
 for his brightness seldom lasts tbe day through. The morning of day 
 and the morning of life are but too much alike." 
 
 " You speak truly, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " How common the saying," continued the dismal man, " ' The 
 morning 's too fine to last.' How well might it be applied to our every- 
 day existence. God ! what would I forfeit to have the days of my 
 childhood restored, or to be able to forget them for ever! " 
 
 " You have seen much trouble, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, com- 
 passionately. 
 
 " I have," said the dismal man, hurriedly ; " I have. More than 
 those who see me now would believe possible." He paused for an 
 instant, and then said, abruptly, 
 
 " Did it ever strike you, on such a morning as this, that drowning 
 would be happiness and peace ? " 
 
 "God bless me, no I" replied Mr. Pickwick, edging a little from 
 the balustrade, as the possibility of the dismal man's tipping him over, 
 by way of experiment, occurred to him rather forcibly. 
 
 " / have thought so, often," said the dismal man, without noticing 
 the action. " The calm, cool water seems to me to murmur an invita- 
 tion to repose and rest. A bound, a splash, a brief struggle ; there is 
 an eddy for an instant, it gradually subsides into a gentle ripple; the 
 waters have closed above your head, and the world has closed upon your 
 miseries and misfortunes for ever." The sunken eye of the dismal 
 man dashed brightly as he spoke, but the momentary excitement quickly 
 subsided; and he turned calmly away, as he said 
 
 " There enough of that. I wished to see you on another subject. 
 You invited me to read that paper, the night before last, and listened 
 attentively while I did so." 
 
 " I did," replied Mr. Pickwick ; " and I certainly thought " 
 
 " I asked for no opinion," said the dismal man, interrupting him, 
 " and I want none. You are travelling for amusement and instruction. 
 Suppose I forwarded you a curious manuscript observe, not curious 
 because wild or improbable, but curious as a leaf from the romance of 
 real life. Would you communicate it to the club, of which you have 
 spoken so frequently?" 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. Pickwick, "if you wished it ; and it would 
 he entered on their transactions." 
 
 " You shall have it," replied the dismal man. " Your address ; " 
 and, Mr. Pickwick having communicated their probable route, the 
 dismal man carefully noted it down in u greasy poeket-book, and,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUE. 45 
 
 resisting Mr. Pickwick's pressing invitation to breakfast, left that gen- 
 tleman at his inn, and walked slowly away. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick found that his three companions had risen, and were 
 waiting his arrival to commence breakfast, which was ready laid in 
 tempting display. They sat down to the meal ; and broiled ham, eggs, 
 tea, coffee, and sundries, began to disappear with a rapidity which at 
 once bore testimony to the excellence of the fare, and the appetites of 
 its consumers. 
 
 " Now, about Manor Farm," said Mr. Pickwick. " How shall we 
 go ? " 
 
 " We had better consult the waiter, perhaps," said Mr. Tupman ; 
 and the waiter was summoned accordingly. 
 
 " Dingley Dell, gentlemen fifteen miles, gentlemen cross road 
 postchaise, Sir? " 
 
 " Post-chaise won't hold more than two," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " True, Sir beg your pardon, Sir. Very nice four-wheel chaise, 
 Sir seat for two behind one in front for the gentleman that drives 
 oh ! beg your pardon, Sir that'll only hold three." 
 
 " What's to be done ? " said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Perhaps one of the gentlemen like tb ride, Sir," suggested the 
 waiter, looking towards Mr. Winkle ; " very good saddle horses, Sir 
 any of Mr. Wardle's men coming to Rochester, bring 'em back, Sir." 
 
 " The very thing," said Mr. Pickwick. " Winkle, will you go on 
 horseback ? " 
 
 Now Mr. Winkle did entertain considerable misgivings in the very 
 lowest recesses of his own heart, relative to his equestrian skill ; but, as 
 he would not have them even suspected on any account, he at once 
 replied with great hardihood, " Certainly. I should enjoy it, of all 
 things." 
 
 Mr. Winkle had rushed upon his fate; there was no resource. 
 " Let them be at the door by eleven," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Very well, Sir," replied the waiter. 
 
 The waiter retired ; the breakfast concluded ; and the travellers 
 ascended to their respective bedrooms, to prepare a change of clothing, 
 to take with them on their approaching expedition. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had made his preliminary arrangements, and was 
 looking over the coffee-room blinds at the passengers in the 
 street, when the waiter entered, and announced that the chaise was 
 ready an announcement which the vehicle itself confirmed, by forth- 
 with appearing before the coffee-room blinds aforesaid. 
 
 It was a curious little green box on four wheels, with a low place like 
 a wine bin for two behind, and an elevated perch for one in front, 
 drawn by an immense brown horse, displaying great symmetry of bone. 
 An hostler stood near it, holding by the bridle another immense horse 
 apparently a near relative of the animal in the chaise ready saddled 
 for Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Bless my soul I " said Mr. Pickwick, as they stood upon the pave- 
 ment while the coats were being put in. " Bless my soul ! who's to- 
 drive ? I never thought of that." 
 
 " Oh ! you, of course," said Mr. Tupman.
 
 46 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Of course," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 I ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Not the slightest fear, Sir," interposed the hostler. Warrant him 
 quiet, Sir ; a hinfant in arms might drive him." 
 
 " He don't shy, does he ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Shy, Sir? He wouldn't shy if he was to meet a vaggin-load of 
 monkeys, with their tails burnt off." 
 
 The last recommendation was indisputable. Mr. Tupman and Mr. 
 Snodgrass got into the bin ; Mr. Pickwick ascended to his perch, and 
 deposited his feet on a floor-clothed shelf, erected beneath it, for that 
 purpose. 
 
 " Now, shiny Villiam," said the hostler to the deputy hostler, " give 
 the gen'lm'n the ribbins." " Shiny Villiam" so called, probably, from 
 his sleek hair and oily countenance placed the reins in Mr. Pickwick's 
 left hand ; and the upper hostler thrust a whip into his right. 
 
 " Woo," cried Mr. Pickwick, as the tall quadruped evinced a decided 
 inclination to back into the coffee-room window. 
 
 " Wo o," echoed Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass, from the bin. 
 
 " Only his playfulness, gen'lm'n," said the head hostler, encouragingly, 
 " jist kitch hold on him, Villiam." The deputy restrained the animal's 
 impetuosity, and the principal ran to assist Mr. Winkle in mounting. 
 
 " T'other side, Sir, if you please." 
 
 " Blowed if the gen'lm'n worn't a gettin' up on the wrong side," 
 whispered a grinning post-boy, to the inexpressibly gratified waiter. 
 
 Mr. Winkle, thus instructed, climbed into" his saddle, with about as 
 much difficulty as he would have experienced in getting up the side of 
 a first-rate man-of-war. 
 
 " All right ?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, with an inward presentiment 
 that it was all wrong. 
 
 " All right," replied Mr. Winkle faintly. 
 
 " Let 'em go," cried the hostler, " Hold him in, Sir;" and away 
 went the chaise, and the saddle horse, with Mr. Pickwick -on the box 
 of the one, and Mr. Winkle on the back of the other, to the delight 
 and gratification of the whole inn yard. 
 
 " What makes him go sideways ? " said Mr. Snodgrass in the bin, to 
 Mr. Winkle in the saddle. 
 
 " I can't imagine," replied Mr. Winkle. His horse was going up 
 the street in the most mysterious manner side first, with his head 
 towards one side of the way, and his tail to the other. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had no leisure to observe either this, or any other par- 
 ticular, the whole of his faculties being concentrated in the manage- 
 ment of the animal attached to the chaise, who displayed various 
 peculiarities, highly interesting to a by-stander, but by no means 
 equally amusing to any one seated behind him. Besides constantly 
 jerking his head up, in a very unpleasant and uncomfortable manner, 
 and tugging at the reins to an extent which rendered it a matter of 
 great difficulty for Mr. Pickwick to hold them, he had a singular pro- 
 pensity for darting suddenly every now and then to the side of the 
 road, then stopping short, and then rushing forward for some minutes, 
 at a speed which it was wholly impossible to control.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 47 
 
 " What can he mean by this?" said Mr. Snodgrass, when the horse 
 had executed this manoeuvre for the twentieth time. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Mr. Tupman ; " it looks very like shying, 
 don't it ?" Mr. Snodgrass was about to reply, when he was interrupted 
 by a shout from Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Woo," said that gentleman, " I have dropped my whip." 
 
 " Winkle," cried Mr. Snodgrass, as the equestrian came trotting up 
 on the tall horse, with his hat over his ears : and shaking all over, as if 
 he would shake to pieces, with the violence of the exercise. " Pick up. 
 the whip, there's a good fellow." Mr. Winkle pulled at the bridle of 
 the tall horse till he was black in the face ; and having at length suc- 
 ceeded in stopping him, dismounted, handed the whip to Mr. Pickwick, 
 and grasping the reins, prepared to remount. 
 
 Now whether the tall horse, in the natural playfulness of his dispo- 
 sition, was desirous of having a little innocent recreation with Mr. 
 Winkle, or whether it occurred to him that he could perform the 
 journey as much to his own satisfaction without a rider as with one, 
 are points upon which, of course, we can arrive at no definite and distinct 
 conclusion. By whatever motives the animal was actuated, certain it 
 is that Mr. Winkle had no sooner touched the reins, than he slipped 
 them over his head, and darted backwards to their full length. 
 
 " Poor fellow," said Mr. Winkle, soothingly, " poor felbti' good 
 old horse." The "poor fellow" was proof against flattery ;. the more 
 Mr. Winkle tried to get nearer him, the more he sidled away ; and, 
 notwithstanding all kinds of coaxing and wheedling, there were Mr. 
 Winkle and the horse going round and round each other for ten minutes, 
 at the end of which time each was at precisely the same distance from 
 the other as when they first commenced an unsatisfactory sort of 
 thing under any circumstances, but particularly so in a lonely road, 
 where no assistance can be procured. 
 
 " What am I to do?" shoxited Mr. Winkle, after the dodging had 
 been prolonged for a considerable time. " What am I to do ? I can't 
 get on him ? " 
 
 " You had better lead him till we come to a turnpike," replied Mr. 
 Pickwick from the chaise. 
 
 " But he won't come," roared Mr. Winkle. " Do come, and hold 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was the very personation of kindness and humanity : 
 he threw the reins on the horse's back, and having descended from his 
 seat, carefully drew the chaise into the hedg-e, lest anything should 
 come along the road, and stepped back to the assistance of his dis- 
 tressed companion, leaving Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass in the 
 vehicle. 
 
 The horse no sooner beheld Mr. Pickwick advancing towards him, 
 with the chaise whip in his hand, than he exchanged the rotary motion 
 in which he had previously indulged, for a retrogade movement ot so 
 very determined a character, that it at once drew Mr. Winkle, who was 
 still at the end of the bridle, at a rather quicker rate than fast walking, 
 in the direction from which they had just come. Mr. Pickwick ran to 
 his assistance, but the faster Mr. Pickwick ran forward, the faster the
 
 48 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 horse ran backward. There was a great scraping of feet, and kicking 
 up of the dust ; and at last Mr. Winkle, his arms being nearly pulled 
 out of their sockets, fairly let go his hold. The horse paused, 
 stared, shook his head, turned round, and quietly trotted home to 
 Rochester, leaving Mr. Winkle and Mr. Pickwick gazing on each 
 other with countenances of blank dismay. A rattling noise at a little 
 distance attracted their attention. They looked up. - 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " exclaimed the agonized Mr. Pickwick, " there's 
 the other horse running away ! " 
 
 It was but too true. The animal was startled by the noise, and the 
 reins were on his back. The result may be guessed. He tore off 
 with the four-wheeled chaise behind him, and Mr. Tupman and Mr 
 Snodgrass in the four-wheeled chaise. The heat was a short one. 
 Mr. Tupman threw himself into the hedge, Mr. Snodgrass followed 
 his example, the horse dashed the four-wheeled chaise against a 
 wooden bridge, separated the wheels from the body, and the bin from 
 the perch ; and finally stood stock still, to gaze upon the ruin he had 
 made. 
 
 The first care of the two unspilt friends was to extricate their unfor- 
 tunate companions from their bed of quickset a process which gave 
 them the unspeakable satisfaction of discovering that they had sustained 
 no injury, beyond sundry rents in their garments, and various lacera- 
 tions from the brambles. The next thing to be done was, to unharness 
 the horse. This complicated process having been effected, the party 
 walked slowly forward, leading the horse among them, and abandoning 
 the chaise to its fate. 
 
 An hour's walking brought the travellers to a little road-side public 
 house, with two elm-trees, a horse trough, and a sign-post, in front; 
 one or two deformed hay-ricks behind, a kitchen garden at the side, 
 and rotten sheds and mouldering out-houses, jumbled in strange confu- 
 sion, all about it. A red-headed man was working in the garden ; and 
 to him Mr. Pickwick called lustily" Hallo there! " 
 
 The red-headed man raised his body, shaded his eyes with his hand, 
 and stared, long and coolly, at Mr. Pickwick and his companions. 
 Hallo there ! " repeated Mr. Pickwick. 
 Hallo ! " was the red-headed man's reply. 
 How far is it to Dingley Dell?" 
 ; Better er seven mile." 
 1 Is it a good road ? " 
 
 No, t'ant." Having uttered this brief reply, and apparently satis- 
 fied himself with another scrutiny, the red-headed man resumed his 
 work. 
 
 " We want to put this horse up here," said Mr. Pickwick ; " I suppose 
 we can, can't we?" 
 
 " Want to put that ere horse up, do ee?" repeated the red-headed 
 man, leaning on his spade. 
 
 " Of course," replied Mr. Pickwick, who had by this time advanced, 
 horse in hand, to the garden rails. 
 
 "Missus" roared the man with the red head, emerging from the 
 garden, and looking very hard at the horse " Missus."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 49 
 
 A tall bony woman straight all the way down in a coarse blue 
 pelisse, with the waist an inch or two below her arm-pits, responded to 
 the call. 
 
 " Can we put this horse up here, my good woman ? " said Mr. Tup- 
 man, advancing, and speaking in his most seductive tones. The woman 
 looked very hard at the whole party ; and the red-headed man whis- 
 pered something in her ear, 
 
 " No," replied the woman, after a little consideration, " I'm afeerd 
 on it." 
 
 " Afraid!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, " what's the woman afraid of!" 
 
 " It got us in trouble last time," said the woman, turning into the 
 house; " I woant have nothin* to say to 'un." 
 
 " Most extraordinary thing I ever met with in my life," said the 
 astonished Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "I I really believe," whispered Mr. Winkle, as his friends 
 gathered round him, " that they think we have come by this horse in 
 some dishonest manner." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, in a storm of indignation. Mr. 
 Winkle modestly repeated his suggestion. 
 
 " Hallo, you fellow !" said the angry Mr. Pickwick, " do you think 
 we stole this horse ? " 
 
 " I'm sure ye did," replied the red-headed .man, with a grin which 
 agitated his countenance from one auricular organ to the other. 
 Saying which, he turned into the house, and banged the door after 
 him. 
 
 " It's like a dream," ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, " a hideous dream. 
 The idea of a man's walking about, all day, with a dreadful horse that 
 he can't get rid of!" The depressed Pickwickians turned moodily 
 away, with the tall quadruped, for which they all felt the most unmiti- 
 gated disgust, following slowly at their heels. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon, when the four friends and their four- 
 footed companion, turned into the lane leading to Manor Farm : and 
 even when they were so near their place of destination, the pleasure 
 they would otherwise have experienced, was materially damped as they 
 reflected on the singularity of their appearance, and the absurdity of 
 their sitxiation. Torn clothes, lacerated faces, dusty shoes, exhausted 
 looks, and, above all, the horse. Oh, how Mr. Pickwick cursed that 
 horse : he had eyed the noble animal from time to time with looks 
 expressive of hatred and revenge ; more than once he had calculated the 
 probable amount of the expense he would incur by cutting his throat ; 
 and now the temptation to destroy him, or to cast him loose upon the 
 world, rushed upon his mind with ten-fold force. He was roused from 
 a meditation on these dire imaginings, by the sudden appearance of 
 two figures, at a turn of the lane. It was Mr. Wardle, and his 
 faithful attendant, the fat boy. 
 
 "Why, where have you been?" said the hospitable old gentleman. 
 " I've been waiting for you all day. Well, you do look tired. What! 
 Scratches ! Not hurt, I hope eh ? Well, I am glad to hear that 
 very. So you've been spilt, eh? Never mind. Common accident in
 
 50 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 these parts. Joe damn that hoy, he's asleep again Joe take tnat 
 horse from the gentleman, and lead it into the stahle." 
 
 The fat boy sauntered heavily behind them with the animal ; and 
 the old gentleman condoling with his guests in homely phrase, on so 
 much of the day's adventures as they thought proper to communicate, 
 led the way to the kitchen. 
 
 " We'll have you put to rights here," said the old gentleman, 
 "and then I'll introduce you to the people in the parlour. Emma, 
 bring out the cherry brandy ; now, Jane, a needle and thread here ; 
 towels and water, Mary. Come, girls, bustle about." 
 
 Three or four buxom girls speedily dispersed in search of the different 
 articles in requisition, while a couple of large-headed, circular-visaged 
 males rose from their seats in the chimney corner, (for although it \vas 
 a May evening, their attachment to the wood fire appeared as cordial 
 as if it were Christmas,) and dived into some obscure recesses, from 
 which they speedily produced a bottle of blacking, and some half-dozen 
 brushes. 
 
 " Bustle," said the old gentleman again, but the admonition was quite 
 unnecessary, for one of the girls poured out the cherry brandy, and 
 another brought in the towels, and one of the men suddenly seizing Mr. 
 Pickwick by the leg, at the imminent hazard of throwing him off his 
 balance, brushed away at his boot, till his corns were red-hot ; while 
 the other shampoo'd Mr Winkle with a heavy clothes brush, indulging, 
 during the operation, in that hissing sound, which hostlers are wont to 
 produce, when engaged in rubbing down a horse. 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass, having concluded his ablutions, took a survey of the 
 room, while standing with his back to the fire, sipping his cherry 
 brandy with heartfelt satisfaction. He describes it, as a large apart- 
 ment, with a red brick floor, and a capacious chimney ; the ceiling gar- 
 nished with hams, sides of bacon, and ropes of onions. The walls were 
 decorated with several hunting-whips, two or three bridles, a saddle, and 
 an old rusty blunderbuss, with an inscription below it, intimating that 
 it was " Loaded " as it had been, on the same authority, for half a cen- 
 tury at least. An old eight-day clock, of solemn and sedate demeanour, 
 ticked gravely in one corner ; and a silver watch, of equal antiquity, 
 dangled from one of the many hooks which ornamented the dresser. 
 
 " Ready ? " said the old gentleman inquiringly, when his guests had 
 been washed, mended, brushed, and brandied. 
 
 " Quite," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Come along then," and the party having traversed several dark 
 passages, and being joined by Mr. Tupman, who had lingered behind 
 to snatch a kiss from Emma, for which he had been duly rewarded 
 with sundry pushings and scratchings arrived at the parlour door. 
 
 " Welcome," said their hospitable host, throwing it open and stepping 
 forward to announce them, " Welcome, gentlemen, to Manor Farm."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 51 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AN OLD-FASHIONED CARD-PARTY THE CLERGYMAN'S VERSES 
 
 THE STORY OF THE CONVICT'S RETURN. 
 
 SEVERAL guests who were assembled in the old parlour, rose to greet 
 Mr. Pickwick and his friends upon their entrance ; and during the 
 performance of the ceremony of introduction, with all due formalities, 
 Mr. Pickwick had leisure to observe the appearance, and speculate upon 
 the characters and pursuits, of the persons by whom he was surrounded 
 a habit in which he in common with many other great men delighted 
 to indulge. 
 
 A very old lady, in a lofty cap and faded silk gown no less a per- 
 sonage than Mr. Wardle's mother occupied the post of honour on the 
 right-hand corner of the chimney-piece ; and various certificates of her 
 having been brought up in the way she should go when young, and of 
 her not having departed from it when old, ornamented the walls, in the 
 form of samplers of ancient date, worsted landscapes of equal antiquity, and 
 crimson silk tea-kettle holders of a more modern period. The aunt, the 
 two young ladies, and Mr. Wardle, each vying with the other in paying 
 zealous and unremitting attentions to the old lady, crowded round her 
 easy chair, one holding her ear-trumpet, another an orange, and a third 
 a smelling-bottle, while a fourth was busily engaged in patting and 
 punching the pillows, which were arranged for her support. On the 
 opposite side, sat a bald-headed old gentleman, with a good-humoured 
 benevolent face the clergyman of Dingley Dell ; and next him sat his 
 wife, a stout blooming old lady, who looked as if she were well skilled, 
 not only in the art and mystery of manufacturing home-made cordials 
 greatly to other people's satisfaction, but of tastingthem occasionally 
 very much to her own. A little hard-headed, Ripstone pippin-faced 
 man, was conversing with a fat old gentleman in one corner ; and two or 
 three more old gentlemen, and two or three more old ladies, sat bolt- 
 upright and motionless on their chairs, staring very hard at Mr. Pickwick 
 and his fellow-voyagers. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick, mother," said Mr. Wardle, at the very top of his 
 voice. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the old lady, shaking her head ; " I can't hear you." 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick, grandma I " screamed both the young ladies toge- 
 ther. 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed the old lady. " Well ; it don't much matter. He 
 don't care for an old 'ooman like me, I dare say." 
 
 " I assure you, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, grasping the old lady's 
 hand ; and speaking so loud that the exertion imparted a crimson hue 
 to his benevolent countenance ; " I assure you, Ma'am, that nothing 
 delights me more, than to see a lady of your time of life heading so fine 
 a family, and looking so young and well."
 
 52 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Ah !" said the old lady, after a short pause ; " It 's all very fine, I 
 dare say ; but I can't hear him." 
 
 " Grandma 's rather put out now," said Miss Isabella Wardle, in a 
 low tone ; " but she'll talk to you presently." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick nodded his readiness to humour the infirmities of 
 age, and entered into a general conversation with the other members 
 of the circle. 
 
 " Delightful situation this," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Delightful ! " echoed Messrs. Snodgrass, Tupman, and Winkle. 
 
 " Well, I think it is," said Mr. Wardle. 
 
 " There ain't a better spot o' ground in all Kent, Sir," said the hard- 
 headed man with the pippin-face ; " there ain't indeed, Sir I'm sure 
 there ain't, Sir;" and the hard-headed man looked triumphantly round, 
 as if he had been very much contradicted by somebody, but had got the 
 better of him at last. 
 
 " There ain't a better spot o' ground in all Kent," said the hard- 
 headed man again, after a pause. 
 
 " 'Cept Mullins' Meadows," observed the fat man, solemnly. 
 
 " Mullins' Meadows ! " ejaculated the other, with profound con- 
 tempt. 
 
 " Ah, Mullins' Meadows," repeated the fat man. 
 
 " Reg'lar good land that," interposed another fat man. 
 
 " And so it is, sure-ly," said a third fat man. 
 
 " Everybody knows that," said the corpulent host. 
 
 The hard-headed man looked dubiously round, but finding himself in 
 a minority, assumed a compassionate air, and said no more. 
 
 " What are they talking about?" inquired the old lady of one of her 
 grand- daughters, in a very audible voice ; for, like many deaf people, 
 she never seemed to calculate on the possibility of other persons hearing 
 what she said herself. 
 
 " About the land, grandma." 
 
 " What about the land ? Nothing the matter, is there?'.' 
 
 " No, no. Mr. Miller was saying our land was better than Mullins' 
 Meadows." 
 
 "How should he know anything about it?" inquired the old lady 
 indignantly. " Miller's a conceited coxcomb, and you may tell him I 
 said so." Saying which, the old lady, quite unconscious that she had 
 spoken above a whisper, drew herself up, and looked carving knives at 
 the hard-headed delinquent. 
 
 " Come, come," said the bustling host, with a natural anxiety to 
 change the conversation, "What say you to a rubber, Mr. Pick- 
 wick ? " 
 
 " I should like it of all things," replied that gentleman ; " but pray 
 don't make up one on my account." 
 
 " Oh, I assure you, mother's very fond of a rubber," said Mr. Wardle ; 
 " ain't you mother?" 
 
 The old lady, who was much less deaf on this subject than on any 
 other, replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Joe, Joe," said the old gentleman ' Joe damn that oh, here 
 he is ; put out the card-tables."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 53 
 
 The lethargic youth contrived without any additional rousing, to set 
 out two card-tables ; the one for Pope Joan, and the other for whist. 
 The whist-players were, Mr. Pickwick and the old lady ; Mr. Miller 
 and the fat gentleman. The round game comprised the rest of the 
 company. 
 
 The rubber was conducted with all that gravity of deportment, and 
 sedateness of demeanour, which befit the pursuit entitled " whist" a 
 solemn observance, to which, as it appears to us, the title of " game " 
 has been very irreverently and ignominiously applied. The round-game 
 table on the other hand, was so boisterously merry, as materially to 
 interrupt the contemplations of Mr. Miller, who not being quite so 
 much absorbed as he ought to have been, contrived to commit various 
 high crimes and misdemeanours, which excited the wrath of the fat 
 gentleman to a very great extent, and called forth the good-humour of 
 the old lady in a proportionate degree. 
 
 " There! " said the criminal Miller triumphantly, as he took up the 
 odd trick at the conclusion of a hand ; " that could not have been 
 played better, I flatter myself; impossible to have made another 
 trick I " 
 
 "Miller ought to have trumped the diamond, oughtn't he Sir?" 
 said the old lady. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick nodded assent. 
 
 " Ought I, though ? " said the unfortunate, with a doubtful appeal to 
 his partner. 
 
 " You ought Sir," said the fat gentleman in an awful voice. 
 
 " Very sorry," said the crest-fallen Miller. 
 
 " Much use that," growled the fat gentleman. 
 
 " Two by honours makes us eight," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Another hand. " Can you one ? " inquired the old lady. 
 
 '' I can," replied Mr. Pickwick. " Double, single, and the rub." 
 
 " Never was such luck," said Mr. Miller. 
 
 " Never was such cards," said the fat gentleman. 
 
 A solemn silence ; Mr. Pickwick humorous, the old lady serious, the 
 fat gentleman captious, and Mr. Miller timorous. 
 
 " Another double," said the old lady : triumphantly making a memo- 
 randum of the circumstance, by placing one sixpence and a battered 
 halfpenny, under the candlestick. 
 
 * A double, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Quite aware of the fact, Sir," replied the fat gentleman, sharply. 
 
 Another game, with a similar result, was followed by a revoke from 
 the unlucky Miller; on which the fat gentleman burst into a state of 
 high personal excitement which lasted until the conclusion of the 
 game, when he retired into a corner, and remained perfectly mute for 
 one hour and twenty-seven minutes ; at the end of which time, he 
 emerged from his retirement, and offered Mr. Pickwick a pinch of snuff 
 with the air of a man who had made up his mind to a Christian forgive- 
 ness of injuries sustained. The old lady's hearing decidedly improved, 
 and the unlucky Miller felt as much out of his element, as a dolphin in 
 a sentry-box. 
 
 Meanwhile the round game proceeded right merrily. Isabella Wardle
 
 54 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and Mr. Trundle " went partners," and Emily Wardle and Mr. Snod- 
 grass did the same ; and even Mr. Tupman and the spinster aunt, 
 established a joint-stock company of fish and flattery. Old Mr. 
 Wardle was in the very height of his jollity ; and he was so funny in 
 his management of the board, and the old ladies were so sharp after their 
 winnings, that the whole table was in a perpetual roar of merriment and 
 laughter. There was one old lady who always had about half a dozen 
 cards to pay for, at which everybody laughed, regularly every round ; 
 and when the old lady looked cross at having to pay, they laughed 
 louder than ever ; on which the old lady's face gradually brightened up, 
 till at last she laughed louder than any of them. Then, when the 
 spinster aunt got " matrimony," the young ladies laughed afresh, and 
 the spinster aunt seemed disposed to be pettish ; till, feeling Mr. Tup- 
 man squeezing her hand under the table, she brightened up too, and 
 looked rather knowing as if matrimony in reality were not quite so far 
 off as some people thought for ; whereupon everybody laughed again, 
 and especially old Mr. Wardle, who enjoyed a joke as much as the 
 youngest. As to Mr. Snodgrass, he did nothing but whisper poetical 
 sentiments into his partner's ear, which made one old gentleman face- 
 tiously sly, about partnerships at cards, and partnerships for life, and 
 caused the aforesaid old gentleman to make some remarks thereupon, 
 accompanied with divers winks and chuckles, which made the company 
 very merry and the old gentleman's wife especially so. And Mr. Winkle 
 came out with jokes which are very well known in town, but are 
 not at all known in the country ; and as everybody laughed at them 
 very heartily and said they were very capital, Mr. Winkle was in a 
 state of great honour and glory. And the benevolent clergyman looked 
 pleasantly on ; for the happy faces which surrounded the table made 
 the good old man feel happy too ; and though the merriment was rather 
 boisterous, still it came from the heart and not from the lips : and this 
 is the right sort of merriment, after all. 
 
 The evening glided swiftly away, in These cheerful recreations ; 
 and when the substantial, though homely supper had been despatched, 
 and the little party formed a social circle round the fire, Mr. 
 Pickwick thought he had never felt so happy in his life, and at no 
 time so much disposed to enjoy, and make the most of, the passing 
 moments. 
 
 " Now this," said the hospitable host, who was sitting in great state 
 next the old lady's arm-chair, with her hand fast clasped in his " This 
 is just what I like the happiest moments of my life have been passed 
 at this old fire-side : and I am so attached to it, that I keep up a blazing 
 fire here every evening, until it actually grows too hot to bear it. Why, 
 my poor old mother, here, used to sit before this fire-place upon that 
 little stool, when she was a girl didn't you, mother?'' 
 
 The tear which starts unbidden to the eye when the recollection of 
 old times and the happiness of many years ago, is suddenly recalled, 
 stole down the old lady's face, as she shook her head with a melancholy 
 smile. 
 
 " You must excuse my talking about this old place, Mr. Pickwick," 
 resumed the host, after a short pause" for I love it dearly, and know
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 55 
 
 no other the old houses and fields seem like living friends to me : and 
 so does our little church with the ivy, about which, by-the-by, our 
 excellent friend there, made a song when he first came amongst us. 
 Mr. Snodgrass, have you anything in your glass ? " 
 
 " Plenty, thank you," replied that gentleman, whose poetic curiosity 
 had been greatly excited by the last observations of his enter- 
 tainer. " I beg your pardon, but you were talking about the song of 
 the Ivy." 
 
 " You must ask our friend opposite about that," said the host know- 
 ingly : indicating the clergyman by a nod of his head. 
 
 " May I say that I should like to hear you repeat it, Sir ?" said Mr. 
 Snodgrass. 
 
 " Why really," replied the clergyman, " it 's a very slight affair ; and 
 the only excuse I have for having ever perpetrated it, is, that I was a 
 young man at the time. Such as it is, however, you shall hear it if 
 you wish." 
 
 A murmur of curiosity was of course the reply ; and the old gentle- 
 man proceeded to recite, with the aid of sundry promptings from his 
 wife, the lines in question. " I call them," said he, 
 
 Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green, 
 
 That creepeth o'er ruins old ! 
 
 Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, 
 
 In his cell so lone and cold. 
 
 The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed, 
 
 To pleasure his dainty whim : 
 
 And the mouldering dust that years have made, 
 
 Is a merry meal for him. 
 
 Creeping where no life is seen, 
 A rare old plant is the Ivy green. 
 
 Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings, 
 
 And a staunch old heart has he. 
 
 How closely he twineth, how tight he clings, 
 
 To his friend the huge Oak Tree ! 
 
 And slily he traileth along the ground, 
 
 And his leaves he gently waves, 
 
 As he joyously hugs and crawleth round 
 
 The rich mould of dead men's graves. 
 
 Creeping where grim death has been, 
 A rare old plant is the Ivy green. 
 
 Whole ages have fled and their works decayed, 
 
 And nations have scattered been ; 
 
 But the stout old Ivy shall never fade, 
 
 From its hale and hearty green. 
 
 The brave old plant in its lonely days, 
 
 Shall fatten upon the past : 
 
 For the stateliest building man can raise, 
 
 ts the Ivy's food at last. 
 
 Creeping on, where time has been, 
 A rare old plant is the Ivy green.
 
 56 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 While the old gentleman repeated these lines a second time, to enable 
 Mr. Snodgrass to note them down, Mr. Pickwick perused the linea- 
 ments of his face with an expression of great interest. The old gentle- 
 man having concluded his dictation, and Mr. Snodgrass having returned 
 his note-book to his pocket, Mr. Pickwick said, 
 
 " Excuse me, Sir, for making the remark on so short an acquaint- 
 ance ; but a gentleman like yourself cannot fail, I should think, to have 
 observed many scenes and incidents worth recording, in the course of 
 your experience as a minister of the Gospel." 
 
 " I have witnessed some certainly," replied the old gentleman ; " but 
 the incidents and characters have been of a homely and ordinary nature, 
 my sphere of action being so very limited." 
 
 " You did make some notes, I think, about John Edmunds, did you 
 not ?" inquired Mr. Wardle who appeared very desirous to draw his 
 friend out, for the edification of his new visitors. 
 
 The old gentleman slightly nodded his head in token of assent, and 
 was proceeding to change the subject, when Mr. Pickwick said, 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir ; but pray, if I may venture to inquire, who 
 was John Edmunds ? " 
 
 " The very thing I was about to ask," said Mr. Snodgrass, eagerly. 
 
 " You are fairly in for it," said the jolly host. " You must satisfy 
 the curiosity of these gentlemen, sooner or later ; so you had better 
 take advantage of this favourable opportunity, and do so at once." 
 
 The old gentleman smiled good-humouredly as he drew his chair 
 forward ; the remainder of the party drew their chairs closer together, 
 especially Mr. Tupman and the spinster aunt, who were possibly rather 
 hard of hearing ; and the old lady's ear-trumpet having been duly 
 adjusted, and Mr. Miller (who had fallen asleep during the recital 
 of the verses) roused from his slumbers by an admonitory pinch, 
 administered beneath the table by his ex-partner the solemn fat man, 
 the old gentleman, without further preface, commenced the -following 
 tale, to which we have taken the liberty of prefixing the title of 
 
 THE CONVICTS RETURN. 
 
 " When I first settled in this village," said the old gentleman, 
 " which is now just five-and-twenty years ago, the most notorious 
 person among my parishioners was a man of the name of Edmunds, 
 who leased a small farm near this spot. He was a morose, savage- 
 hearted, bad man : idle and dissolute in his habits ; cruel and ferocious 
 in his disposition. Beyond the few lazy and reckless vagabonds with 
 whom he sauntered away his time in the fields, or sotted in the ale- 
 house, he had not a single friend or acquaintance ; no one cared to 
 speak to the man whom many feared, and every one detested and 
 Edmunds was shunned by all. 
 
 " This man had a wife and one son, who, when I first came here, was 
 about twelve years old. Of the acuteness of that woman's sufferings, 
 of the gentle and enduring manner in which she bore them, of the 
 agony of solicitude with which she reared that boy, no one can form an 
 adequate conception. Heaven forgive me the supposition, if it be an 
 uncharitable one, but I do firmly and in my soul believe, that the man 
 systematically tried for many years to break her heart ; but she bore it all
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 57 
 
 for her child's sake, and, however strange it may seem to many, for his 
 father's too ; for brute as he was and cruelly as he treated her, she had 
 loved him once ; and the recollection of what he had been to her, 
 awakened feelings of forbearance and meekness under suffering in her 
 bosom, to which all God's creatures, but women, are strangers. 
 
 " They were poor they could not be otherwise when the man pur- 
 sued such courses; but the woman's unceasing- and unwearied exertions, 
 early and late, morning, noon, and night, kept them above actual 
 want. Those exertions were but ill repaid. People who passed the 
 spot in the evening sometimes at a late hour of the night reported 
 that they had heard the moans and sobs of a woman in distress, and the 
 sound of blows : and more than once, when it was past midnight, the boy 
 knocked softly at the door of a neighbour's house, whither he had been 
 sent, to escape the drunken fnry of his unnatural father. 
 
 " During the whole of this time, and when the poor creature often 
 bore about her marks of ill-usage and violence which she could not 
 wholly conceal, she was a constant attendant at our little church. 
 Regularly every Sunday, morning and afternoon, she occupied the same 
 seat with the boy at her side ; and though they were both poorly 
 dressed much more so than many of their neighbours who were in a 
 lower station they were always neat and clean. Every one had a 
 friendly nod and a kind word for 'poor Mrs. Edmunds ;' and sometimes, 
 when she stopped to exchange a few words with a neighbour at the con- 
 clusion of the service in the little row of elm trees which leads to the 
 church porch, or lingered behind to gaze with a mother's pride and 
 fondness upon her healthy boy, as he sported before her with some 
 little companions, her care-worn face would lighten up with an expres- 
 sion of heartfelt gratitude ; and she would look, if not cheerful and 
 happy, at least tranquil and contented. 
 
 " Five or six years passed away ; the boy had become a robust and 
 well-grown youth. The time that had strengthened the child's slight 
 frame and knit his weak limbs into the strength of manhood, had 
 bowed his mother's form, and enfeebled her steps ; but the arm that 
 should have supported her was no longer locked in hers ; the face that 
 should have cheered her, no more looked upon her own. She occupied 
 her old seat, but there was a vacant one beside her. The Bible was 
 kept as carefully as ever, the places were found and folded down as- 
 they used to be : but there was no one to read it with her ; and the 
 tears fell thick and fast upon the book, and blotted the words from her 
 eyes. Neighbours were as kind as they were wont to be of old, but she 
 shunned their greetings with averted head. There was no lingering 
 among the old elm trees now no cheering anticipations of happiness 
 yet in store. The desolate woman drew her bonnet closer over her 
 face, and walked hurriedly away. 
 
 " Shall I tell you, that the young man, who, looking back to the 
 earliest of his childhood's days to which memory and consciousness 
 extended, and carrying his recollection down to that moment, could 
 remember nothing which was not in some way connected with a long 
 series of voluntary privations suffered by his mother for his sake, with 
 ill-usage, and insult, and violence, and all endured for him; shall I 
 tell you, that he, with a reckless disregard of her breaking heart, and
 
 58 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 a sullen wilful forgetfulness of all she had done and borne for him, 
 had linked himself with depraved and abandoned men, and was madly 
 pursuing a headlong career, which must bring death to him, and 
 shame to her ? Alas for human nature ! You have anticipated it 
 long since. 
 
 " The measure of the unhappy woman's misery and misfortune was 
 about to be completed. Numerous offences had been committed in the 
 neighbourhood ; the perpetrators remained undiscovered, and their 
 boldness increased. A robbery of a daring and aggravated nature occa- 
 sioned a vigilance of pursuit, and a strictness of search, they had not 
 calculated on. Young Edmunds was suspected with three companions. 
 He was apprehended committed tried condemned to die. 
 
 " The wild and piercing shriek from a woman's voice, which re- 
 sounded through the court when the solemn sentence was pronounced, 
 rings in my ears at this moment. That cry struck a terror to the cul- 
 prit's heart, which trial, condemnation the approach of death itself, 
 had failed to awaken. The lips which had been compressed in dogged 
 sullenness throughout, quivered and parted involuntarily ; the face 
 turned ashy pale as the cold perspiration broke forth from every 
 pore ; the sturdy limbs of the felon trembled, and he staggered in 
 the dock. 
 
 " In the first transports of her mental anguish, the suffering mother 
 threw herself upon her knees at my feet, and fervently besought the 
 Almighty Being who had hitherto supported her in all her troubles, to 
 release her from a world of woe and misery, and to spare the life of her 
 only child. A burst of grief, and a violent struggle, such as I hope I 
 may never have to witness again, succeeded. I knew that her heart 
 was breaking from that hour; but I never once heard complaint or 
 murmur escape her lips. 
 
 " It was a piteous spectacle to see that woman in the prison yard 
 from day to day, eagerly and fervently attempting, by affection and 
 entreaty, to soften the hard heart of her obdurate son. It was in vain. 
 He remained moody, obstinate, and unmoved. Not even the unlooked- 
 for commutation of his sentence to transportation for fourteen years, 
 softened for an instant the sullen hardihood of his demeanour. 
 
 " But the spirit of resignation and endurance that had so long upheld 
 her, was unable to contend against bodily weakness and infirmity. She 
 fell sick. She dragged her tottering limbs from the bed to visit her 
 son once more, but her strength failed her, and she sunk powerless on 
 the ground. 
 
 " And now the boasted coldness and indifference of the young man 
 were tested indeed ; and the retribution that fell heavily upon him, nearly 
 drove him mad. A day passed away and his mother was not there ; an- 
 other flew by, and she came not near him : a third evening arrived, and yet 
 he had not seen her ; and in four-and-twenty hours, he was to be sepa- 
 rated from her perhaps for ever. Oh ! how the long-forgotten thoughts 
 of former days rushed upon his mind, as he almost ran up and down the 
 narrow yard as if intelligence would arrive the sooner for his hurrying 
 and how bitterly a sense of his helplessness and desolation rushed upon 
 him, when he heard the truth ! His mother, the only parent he had 
 ever known, lay ill it might be, dying within one mile of the ground
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 59 
 
 he stood on ; were he free and unfettered, a few minutes would place 
 him by her side. He rushed to the gate, and, grasping the iron rails 
 with the energy of desperation, shook it till it rang again, and threw 
 himself against the thick wall as if to force a passage through the 
 stone ; hut the strong building mocked his feeble efforts, and he beat 
 his hands together and wept like a child. 
 
 " I bore the mother's forgiveness and blessing to her son in prison ; 
 and I carried his solemn assurance of repentance, and his fervent sup- 
 plication for pardon, to her sick bed. I heard with pity and compas- 
 sion, the repentant man devise a thousand little plans for her comfort 
 and support, when he returned ; but I knew that many months before 
 he could reach his place of destination, his mother would be no longer 
 of this world. 
 
 " He was removed by night. A few weeks afterwards the poor 
 woman's soul took its flight I confidently hope, and solemnly believe, 
 to a place of eternal happiness and rest. I performed the burial service 
 over her remains. She lies in our little churchyard. There is no 
 stone at her grave's head. Her sorrows were known to man ; her 
 virtues to God. 
 
 " It had been arranged previously to the convict's departure, that he 
 should write to his mother so soon as he could obtain permission, and 
 that 4he letter should be addressed to me. The father had positively 
 refused to see his son from the moment of his apprehension ; and it 
 was a matter of indifference to him whether he lived or died. Many 
 years passed over without any intelligence of him ; and when more than 
 half his term of transportation had expired and I had received no letter, 
 I concluded him to be dead, as, indeed, I almost hoped he might be. 
 
 " Edmunds, however, had been sent a considerable distance up the 
 country on his arrival at the settlement ; and to this circumstance, 
 perhaps, may be attributed the fact, that though several letters were 
 despatched none of them ever reached my hands. He remained in the 
 same place during the whole fourteen years. At the expiration of the 
 term steadily adhering to his old resolution, and the pledge he gave 
 his mother, he made his way back to England amidst innumerable 
 difficulties, and returned, on foot, to his native place. 
 
 " On a fine Sunday evening, in the month of August, John Edmunds 
 set foot in the village he had left with shame and disgrace seventeen 
 years before. His nearest way lay through the churchyard. The 
 man's heart swelled as he crossed the stile. The tall old elms, through 
 whose branches the declining sun cast here and there a rich ray of 
 light upon the shady path, awakened the associations of his earliest 
 days. He pictured himself as he was then, clinging to his mother's 
 hand, and walking peacefully to church. He remembered how he used 
 to look up into her pale face ; and how her eyes would sometimes fill 
 with tears as she gazed upon his features tears which fell hot upon 
 his forehead as she stooped to kiss him, and made him weep too, 
 although he little knew then what bitter tears hers were. He thought 
 how often he had run merrily down that path with some childish play- 
 fellow, looking back ever and again, to catch his mother's smile, or 
 hear her gentle voice ; and then a veil seemed lifted from his memory,
 
 60 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and words of kindness unrequited, and warnings despised, and promises 
 broken, thronged upon his recollection till his heart failed him, and he 
 could bear it no longer. 
 
 " He entered the church. The evening service was concluded and 
 the congregation had dispersed, but it was not yet closed. His steps 
 echoed through the low building with a hollow sound, and he almost 
 feared to be alone, it was so still and quiet. He looked round him. 
 Nothing was changed. The place seemed smaller than it used to be ; 
 but there were the old monuments on which he had gazed with childish 
 awe a thousand times ; the little pulpit with its faded cushion ; the 
 Communion table before which he had so often repeated the Com- 
 mandments he had reverenced as a child, and forgotten as a man. He 
 approached the old seat ; it looked cold and desolate. The cushion had 
 been removed, and the Bible was not there. Perhaps his mother now 
 occupied a poorer seat, or possibly she had grown infirm and could not 
 reach the church alone. He dared not think of what he feared. A cold 
 feeling crept over him, and he trembled violently, as he turned away. 
 
 " An old man entered the porch just as he reached it. Edmunds 
 started back for he knew him well ; many a time had he watched him 
 digging graves in the churchyard. What would he say to the returned 
 convict ? The old man raised his eyes to the stranger's face, bid him 
 ' good evening,' and walked slowly on. He had forgotten him. 
 
 " He walked down the hill, and through the village. The weather 
 was warm, and the people were sitting at their doors, or strolling in 
 their little gardens as he passed, enjoying the serenity of the evening, 
 and their rest from labour. Many a look was turned towards him, and 
 many a doubtful glance he cast on either side to see whether any knew 
 and shunned him. There were strange faces in almost every house ; 
 in some he recognised the burly form of some old schoolfellow a 
 boy when he last saw him surrounded by a troop of merry chil- 
 dren ; in others he saw, seated in an easy-chair at the cottage door a 
 feeble and infirm old man, whom be only remembered as a hale and 
 hearty labourer ; but they had all forgotten him, and he passed on 
 unknown. 
 
 " The last soft light of the setting sun had fallen on the earth, casting 
 a rich glow on the yellow corn sheaves, and lengthening the shadows of 
 the orchard trees, as he stood before the old house the home of his in- 
 fancy, to which his heart had yearned with an intensity of affection not 
 to be described, through long and weary years of captivity and sorrow. 
 The paling was low though he well remembered the time, when it had 
 seemed a high wall to him; and he looked over into the old garden. 
 There were more seeds and gayer flowers than there used to be, but 
 there were the old trees still the very tree, under which he had lain a 
 thousand times when tired with playing in the sun, and felt the soft 
 mild sleep of happy boyhood steal gently upon him. There were voices 
 within the house. He listened but they fell strangely upon his ear ; he 
 knew them not. They were merry too; and he well knew that his poor 
 old mother could not be cheerful, and he away. The door opened, and 
 a group of little children bounded out, shouting and romping. The 
 father with a little boy in his arms, appeared at the door, and they
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 61 
 
 crowded round him, clapping their tiny hands, and dragging- him out, 
 to join their joyous sports. The convict thought on the many times he 
 had shrunk from his father's sight in that very place. He remembered 
 how often he had buried his trembling head beneath the bed-clothes, and 
 heard the harsh word, and the hard stripe, and his mother's wailing; and 
 though the man sobbed aloud with agony of mind as he left the spot, 
 his fist was clenched, arid his teeth were set, in fierce and deadly passion. 
 
 " And such was the return to which he had looked through the 
 weary perspective of many years, and for which he had undergone so 
 much suffering ! No face of welcome, no look of forgiveness, no house 
 to receive, no hand to help him and this too in the old village. What 
 was his loneliness in the wild thick woods where man was never seen, 
 to this ! 
 
 " He felt that in the distant land of his bondage and infamy, he had 
 thought of his native place as it was when he left it ; not as it would 
 be, when he returned. The sad reality struck coldly at his heart, and 
 his spirit sank within him. He had not courage to make inquiries, or 
 to present himself to the only person who was likely to receive him 
 with kindness and compassion. He walked slowly on ; and shunning 
 the road-side like a guilty man, turned into a meadow he well remem- 
 bered ; and covering his face with his hands, threw himself upon the grass. 
 
 f He had not observed that a man was lying on the bank beside 
 him ; his garments rustled as he turned round to steal a look at the 
 new comer : and Edmunds raised his bead. 
 
 " The man had moved into a sitting posture. His body was much 
 bent, and his face was wrinkled and yellow. His dress denoted him 
 an inmate of the workhouse: he had the appearance of being 
 very old, but it looked more the effect of dissipation or disease, than 
 length of years. He was staring hard at the stranger, and though his 
 eyes were lustreless and heavy at first, they appeared to glow with an 
 unnatural and alarmed expression after they had been fixed upon him 
 for a short time, until they seemed to be starting from their sockets. 
 Edmunds gradually raised himself to his knees, and looked more and 
 more earnestly upon the old man's face. They gazed upon each other 
 in silence. 
 
 " The old man was ghastly pale. He shuddered and tottered to his 
 feet. Edmunds sprang to his. He stepped back a pace or two. Ed- 
 munds advanced. 
 
 " ' Let me hear you speak,' said the convict in a thick broken voice. 
 
 " ' Stand off",' cried the old man, with a dreadful oath. The convict 
 drew closer to him. 
 
 ' < Stand off,' shrieked the old man. Furious with terror he raised 
 his stick, and struck Edmunds a heavy blow across the face. 
 
 " ' Father devil,' murmured the convict, between his set teeth. He 
 rushed wildly foward, and clenched the old man by the throat but he 
 was his father ; and his arm fell powerless by his side. 
 
 " The old man uttered a loud yell which rang through the lonely 
 fields like the howl of an evil spirit. His face turned black : the gore 
 rushed from his mouth and nose, and dyed the grass a deep dark red, as 
 he staggered and fell. He had ruptured a blood vessel : and he was a
 
 62 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 dead man before his son could raise him from that thick, sluggish, 
 pool. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " In that corner of the churchyard," said the old gentleman, after a 
 silence of a few moments, " In that corner of the churchyard of which 
 I have before spoken, there lies buried a man, who was in my employ- 
 ment for three years after this event : and who was truly contrite, 
 penitent, and humbled, if ever man was. No one save myself knew 
 in that man's life-time who he was, or whence he came : it was John 
 Edmunds the returned convict." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOW MR. WINKLE, INSTEAD OF SHOOTING AT THE PIGEON AND 
 KILLING THE CROW, SHOT AT THE CROW AND WOUNDED THE 
 PIGEON; HOW THE DINGLEY DELL CRICKET CLUB, PLAYED ALL 
 MUGGLETON, AND HOW ALL MUGGLETON DINED AT THE DINGLEY 
 DELL EXPENSE : WITH OTHER INTERESTING AND INSTRUCTIVE 
 
 MATTERS. 
 
 THE fatiguing adventures of the day or the somniferous influence of 
 the clergyman's tale, operated so strongly on the drowsy tendencies of 
 Mr. Pickwick, that, in less than five minutes after he had been shown 
 to his comfortable bed-room, he fell into a sound and dreamless sleep, 
 from which he was only awakened by the morning sun darting his 
 bright beams reproachfully into the apartment. Mr. Pickwick was no 
 sluggard ; and he sprang like an ardent warrior from his tent bedstead. 
 
 " Pleasant, pleasant country/' sighed the enthusiastic gentleman, as 
 he opened his lattice window. " Who could live to gaze from day to 
 day on bricks and slates, who had once felt the influence of a scene like 
 this ? Who could continue to exist, where there are no cows but the 
 cows on the chimney-pots ; nothing redolent of Pan but pan-tiles ; no 
 crop but stone crop ? Who could bear to drag out a life in such a 
 spot ? Who I ask could endure it ? " and, having cross-examined 
 solitude after the most approved precedents, at considerable length, 
 Mr. Pickwick thrust his head out of the lattice, and looked around him. 
 
 The rich, sweet smell of the hay-ricks rose to his chamber window; 
 the hundred perfumes of the little flower-garden beneath scented the 
 air around ; the deep-green meadows shone in the morning dew that 
 glistened on every leaf as it trembled in the gentle air ; and the birds 
 sang as if every sparkling drop were to them a fountain of inspiration. 
 Mr. Pickwick fell into an enchanting, and delicious reverie. 
 
 " Hallo ! " was the sound that roused him. 
 
 He looked to the right but he saw nobody; his eyes wandered to the 
 left, and pierced the prospect ; he stared into the sky, but he wasn't 
 wanted there ; and then he did what a common mind would have done 
 at once looked into the garden, and there saw Mr. Wardle. 
 
 " How are you ? " said that good-humoured individual, out of breath 
 with his own anticipations of pleasure. " Beautiful morning, ain't it ?
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 63 
 
 Glad to see yon up so early. Make haste down, and come out. I'll 
 wait for you here." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick needed no second invitation. Ten minutes sufficed 
 for the completion of his toilet, and at the expiration of that time he 
 was by the old gentleman's side. 
 
 " Hallo !" said Mr. Pickwick in his turn : seeing that his companion 
 was armed with a gun, and that another lay ready on the grass. 
 " What's going forward ? " 
 
 " Why, your friend and I," replied the host, " are going out rook- 
 shooting before breakfast. He 's a very good shot ain't he ? " 
 
 " I've heard him say he 's a capital one," replied Mr. Pickwick ; 
 " but I never saw him aim at anything." 
 
 " Well," said the host, " I wish he'd come. Joe Joe." 
 
 The fat boy, who under the exciting influence of the morning did 
 not appear to be more than three parts and a fraction asleep, emerged 
 from the house. 
 
 " Go up, and call the gentleman, and tell him he '11 find me and 
 Mr. Pickwick in the rookery. Show the gentleman the way there ; 
 d'ye hear?" 
 
 The boy departed to execute his commission ; and the host, carrying 
 both guns like a second Robinson Crusoe, led the way from the 
 garden. 
 
 "This is the place," said the old gentleman, pausing after a few 
 minutes walking, in an avenue of trees. The information was unneces-. 
 sary ; for the incessant cawing of the unconscious rooks, sufficiently 
 indicated their whereabout. 
 
 The old gentleman laid one gun on the ground, and loaded the 
 other. 
 
 " Here they are," said Mr. Pickwick ; and as he spoke, the forms of 
 Mr. Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and Mr. Winkle appeared in the distance. 
 The fat boy, not being quite certain which gentleman he was directed 
 to call, had with peculiar sagacity, and to prevent the possibility of any 
 mistake, called them all. 
 
 " Come along," shouted the old gentlemen, addressing Mr. Winkle ; 
 " a keen hand like you ought to have been up long ago, even to such 
 poor work as this." 
 
 Mr. Winkle responded with a forced smile, and took up the spare 
 gun with an expression of countenance which a metaphysical rook, 
 impressed with a foreboding of his approaching death by violence, may 
 be supposed to assume. It might have been keenness, but it looked 
 remarkably like misery. 
 
 The old gentleman nodded ; and two ragged boys who had been 
 marshalled to the spot under the direction of the infant Lambert, 
 forthwith commenced climbing up two of the trees. 
 
 "What are those lads for?" inquired Mr. Pickwick abruptly. He 
 was rather alarmed ; for he was not quite certain but that the distress 
 of the agricultural interest, about which he had often heard a great deal, 
 might have compelled the small boys, attaehed to the soil, to earn a pre- 
 carious and hazardous subsistence by making marks of themselves for 
 inexperienced sportsmen.
 
 64 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Only to start the gamp," replied Mr. Wardle, laughing. 
 
 " To what ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Why, in plain English to frighten the rooks." 
 
 "Oh! Is that all?" 
 
 " You are satisfied ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 Very well. Shall I begin ? " 
 
 " If you please," said Mr. Winkle, glad of any respite. 
 
 " Stand aside, then. Now for it." 
 
 The boy shouted, and shook a branch with a nest on it. Half a 
 dozen young rooks in violent conversation, flew out to ask what the 
 matter was. The old gentleman fired by way of reply. Down fell 
 one bird, and off flew the others. 
 
 " Take him up, Joe," said the old gentleman. 
 
 There was a smile upon the youth's face as he advanced. Indistinct 
 visions of rook-pie floated through his imagination. He laughed as he 
 retired with the bird it was a plump one. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Winkle," said the host, reloading his own gun. " Fire 
 away." 
 
 Mr. Winkle advanced, and levelled his gun. Mr. Pickwick and his 
 friends cowered involuntarily to escape damage from the heavy fall of 
 rooks, which they felt quite certain would be occasioned by the devastat- 
 ing barrel of their friend. There was a solemn pause a shout a 
 trapping of wings a faint click. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Won't it go? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Missed fire," said Mr. Winkle, who was very pale, probably from 
 disappointment. 
 
 " Odd," said the old gentleman, taking the gun. " Never knew one 
 of them miss fire before. Why. I don't see anything of the cap." 
 
 " Bless my soul," said Mr. Winkle. " I declare I forgot the 
 cap ! " 
 
 The slight omission was rectified. Mr. Pickwick crouched again. 
 Mr. Winkle stepped forward with an air of determination and resolu- 
 tion ; and Mr. Tupman looked out from behind a tree. The boy 
 shouted; four birds flew out. Mr. Winkle fired. There was a scream 
 as of an individual not a rook in corporeal anguish. Mr. Tupman 
 had saved the lives of inmimerable unoffending birds, by receiving a 
 portion of the charge in his left arm. 
 
 To describe the confusion that ensued would be impossible. To tell 
 how Mr. Pickwick in the first transports of his emotion called Mr. 
 Winkle " Wretch ! " how Mr. Tupman lay prostrate on the ground ; 
 and how Mr. Winkle knelt horror-stricken beside him; how Mr. Tup- 
 man called distractedly upon some feminine Christian name, and then 
 opened first one eye, and then the other, and then fell back and shut 
 them both ; all this would be as difficult to describe in detail, as it would 
 be to depict the gradual recovering of the unfortunate individual, the 
 binding up his arm with pocket-handkerchiefs, and the conveying him 
 back by slow degrees supported by the arms of his anxious friends. 
 
 They drew near the house. The ladies were at the garden-gate,
 
 THE PICKWPCK CLT'B. 65 
 
 waiting for their arrival and their breakfast. The spinster aunt 
 appeared ; she smiled, and beckoned them to walk quicker. 'Twas 
 evident she knew not of the disaster. Poor thing- ! There are times 
 when ignorance is bliss indeed. 
 " They approached nearer. 
 
 " Why, what is the matter with the little old gentleman ? " said 
 Isabella Wardle. The spinster aunt heeded not the remark ; she 
 thought it applied to Mr. Pickwick. In her eyes Tracy Tupman was 
 a youth ; she viewed his years through a diminishing glass. 
 
 " Don't be frightened," called out the old host fearful of alarming 
 his daughters. The little party had crowded so completely round Mr. 
 Tupman, that they could not yet clearly discern the nature of the 
 accident. 
 
 " Don't be frightened," said the host. 
 
 " What's the matter? " screamed the ladies. 
 
 " Mr. Tupman has met with a little accident ; that 's all." 
 
 The spinster aunt uttered a piercing scream, burst into an hysteric 
 laugh, and fell backwards in the arms of her nieces. 
 
 " Throw some cold water over her," said the old gentleman. 
 
 " No, no," murmured the spinster aunt; " I am better now. Bella, 
 
 Emily a surgeon I Is he wounded ? Is he dead ? Is he ha, ha, 
 
 ha ! " Here the spinster aunt burst into fit number two, of hysteric 
 laughter, interspersed with screams. 
 
 " Calm yourself," said Mr. Tupman, affected almost to tears by this 
 expression of sympathy with his sufferings. " Dear, dear Madam, calm 
 yourself." 
 
 " It is his voice !" exclaimed the spinster aunt ; and strong symptoms 
 of fit number three developed themselves forthwith. 
 
 " Do not agitate yourself I entreat you, dearest Madam," said Mr. 
 Tupman, soothingly. " I am very little hurt, I assure you." 
 
 " Then you are not dead !" ejaculated the hysterical lady. " Oh, say 
 you are not dead ! " 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Rachael," interposed Mr. Wardle, rather more 
 roughly than was quite consistent with the poetic nature of the scene. 
 " What the devil's the use of his saying he isn't dead ?" 
 
 " No, no, 1 am not," said Mr. Tupman. " I require no assistance 
 but yours. Let me lean on your arm," he added, in a whisper, 
 " Oh Miss Rachael ! " The agitated female advanced, and offered her 
 arm. They turned into the breakfast parlour. Mr. Tracy Tupman 
 gently pressed her hand to his lips, and sank upon the sofa. 
 
 " Are you faint ? " inquired the anxious Rachael. 
 
 " No," said Mr. Tupman. " It is nothing. I shall be better pre- 
 sently." He closed his eyes. 
 
 " He sleeps," murmured the spinster aunt. (His organs of vision 
 had been closed nearly twenty seconds). "Dear-^-dear Mr. Tup- 
 man." 
 
 Mr. Tupman jumped up " Oh, say those words again ! " he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 The lady started. " Surely you did not hear them I " she said, 
 bashfully.
 
 66 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Oh yes I did ! " replied Mr. Tupman ; " repeat them. If you would 
 have me recover, repeat them." 
 
 " Hush !" said the Lady. " My brother." 
 
 Mr. Tracy Tupman resumed his former position ; and Mr. Wardle 
 accompanied by a surgeon, entered the room. 
 
 The arm was examined, the wound dressed, and pronounced to be a 
 very slight one; and the minds of the company having been thus satis- 
 fied, they proceeded to satisfy their appetites with countenances to 
 which an expression of cheerfulness was again restored. Mr. Pickwick 
 alone was silent and reserved. Doubt and distrust were exhibited in 
 his countenance. His confidence in Mr. Winkle had been shaken 
 greatly shaken by the proceedings of the morning. 
 
 (< Are you a cricketer? " inquired Mr. Wardle of the marksman. 
 
 At any other time, Mr. Winkle would have replied in the affirmative. 
 He felt the delicacy of his situation, and modestly replied, " No." 
 
 " Are you, Sir ? " inquired Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " I was once upon a time," replied the host ; " but I have given it 
 up now. I subscribe to the club here, but I don't play." 
 
 " The grand match is played to-day, I believe," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It is," replied the host. " Of course you would like to see it." 
 
 " I, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, " am delighted to view any sports 
 which may be safely indulged in, and in which the impotent effects of 
 unskilful people do not endanger human life." Mr. Pickwick paused, 
 and looked steadily on Mr. Winkle, who quailed beneath his leader's 
 searching glance. The great man withdrew bis eyes after a few minutes, 
 and added : " Shall we be justified in leaving our wounded friend to the 
 care of the ladies ? " 
 
 " You cannot leave me in better hands," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Quite impossible," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 It was therefore settled that Mr. Tupman should be left at home 
 in charge of the females ; and that the remainder of the guests under 
 the guidance of Mr. Wardle should proceed to the spot, where was to 
 be held that trial of skill, which had roused all Muggleton from its 
 torpor, and innoculated Dingley Dell with a fever of excitement. 
 
 As their walk which was not above two miles long, lay through 
 shady lanes, and sequestered footpaths ; and as their conversation turned 
 upon the delightful scenery by which they were on every side sur- 
 rounded, Mr. Pickwick was almost inclined to regret the expedition 
 they had used, when he found himself in the main street of the town 
 of Muggleton. 
 
 Everybody whose genius has a topographical bent, knows perfectly 
 well, that Muggleton is a corporate town, with a mayor, burgesses, and 
 freemen ; and anybody who has consulted the addresses of the mayor 
 to the freemen, or the freemen to the mayor, or both to the corpora- 
 tion, or all three to Parliament, will learn from thence what they ought 
 to have known before, that Muggleton is an ancient and loyal borough, 
 mingling a zealous advocacy of Christian principles with a devoted 
 attachment to commercial rights ; in demonstration whereof, the mayor, 
 corporation, and other inhabitants, have presented at divers times, no 
 fewer than one thousand four hundred and twenty petitions, against the
 
 THE PICKWICK CLLrt. (J7 
 
 continuance of negro slavery abroad, and an equal number against any 
 interference with the factory system at home ; sixty-eight for permit- 
 ting the sale of benefices in the church, and eighty-six for abolishing 
 Sunday trading in the streets. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick stood in the principal street of this illustrious town, 
 and gazed with an air of curiosity not unmixed with interest, on the 
 objects around him. There was an open square for the market-place ; 
 and in the centre of it, a large inn with a sign-post in front, displaying 
 an object very common in art, but rarely met with in nature to wit, 
 a blue lion with three bow legs in the air, balancing himself on the 
 extreme point of the centre claw of his fourth foot. There were, 
 within sight, an auctioneer's and fire-agency office, a corn-factor's, a 
 linen draper's, a saddler's, a distiller's, a grocer's, and a shoe shop the 
 last-mentioned warehouse being also appropriated to the diffusion of hats, 
 bonnets, wearing apparel, cotton umbrellas, and useful knowledge: 
 There was a red-brick house with a small paved court-yard in front, 
 which anybody might have known belonged to the attorney : and there 
 was, moreover, another red-brick house with Venetian blinds, and a 
 large brass door-plate, with a very legible announcement that it be- 
 longed to the surgeon. A few boys were making their way to the 
 cricket-field ; and two or three shopkeepers who were standing at their 
 doors, looked as if they should like to be making their way to the same 
 spot, as indeed to all appearance they might have done, without losing 
 any great amount of custom thereby. Mr. Pickwick having paused 
 to make these observations, to be noted down at a more convenient 
 period, hastened to rejoin his friends, who had turned out of the main 
 street, and were already within sight of the field of battle. 
 
 The wickets were pitched, and so were a couple of marquees for the 
 rest and refreshment of the contending parties. The game had not yet 
 commenced. Two or three Dingley Dellers, and All-Muggletonians, 
 were amusing themselves with a majestic air by throwing the ball care- 
 lessly from hand to hand ; and several other gentlemen dressed like 
 them, in straw hats, flannel jackets, and white trowsers, a costume 
 in which they looked very much like amateur stone-masonswere 
 sprinkled about the tents, towards one of which Mr. Wardle con- 
 ducted the party. 
 
 Several dozen of " How-are-you's ? " hailed the old gentleman's 
 arrival ; and a general raising of the straw hats, and bending forward 
 of the flannel jackets, followed his introduction of his guests as gentle- 
 men from London, who were extremely anxious to witness the pro- 
 ceedings of the day, with which, he had no doubt, they would be greatly 
 delighted. 
 
 " You had better step into the marquee I think, Sir," said one very 
 stout gentleman, whose body and legs looked like half a gigantic roll 
 of flannel, elevated on a couple of inflated pillow-cases. 
 
 " You'll find it much pleasanter Sir," urged another stout gentle- 
 man, who strongly resembled the other half of the roll of flannel 
 aforesaid. 
 
 "You're very good," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " This way," said the first speaker; " they notch in here it's the
 
 68 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 best place in the whole field;" and the cricketer, panting on before, 
 preceded them to the tent. 
 
 " Capital game smart sport fine exercise very," were the words 
 which fell upon Mr. Pickwick's ear as he entered the tent ; and the 
 first object that met his eyes, was his green-coated friend of the 
 Rochester coach, holding forth, to the no small delight and edification 
 of a select circle of the chosen of All-Muggleton. His dress was 
 slightly improved, and he wore boots; but there was no mistaking 
 him. 
 
 The stranger recognised his friends immediately : and, darting for- 
 ward and seizing Mr. Pickwick by the hand, dragged him to a seat, 
 with his usual impetuosity, talking all the while as if the whole of the 
 arrangements were under his especial patronage and direction. 
 
 " This way this way capital fun lots of beer hogsheads ; rounds 
 of beef bullocks ; mustard cart loads ; glorious day down with 
 you make yourself at home glad to see you very." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick sat down as he was bid, and Mr. Winkle and Mr. 
 Snodgrass also complied with the directions of their mysterious friend. 
 Mr. Wardle looked on, in silent wonder. 
 
 " Mr. Wardle a friend of mine," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Friend of yours ! My dear Sir, how are you ? Friend of my 
 friend's give me your hand, Sir" and the stranger grasped Mr. 
 Wardle's hand with all the fervour of a close intimacy of many years, 
 and then stepped back a pace or two as if to take a full survey of his 
 face and figure, and then shook hands with him again, if possible, more 
 warmly than before. 
 
 " Well; and how came you here?" said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile 
 in which benevolence struggled with surprise. 
 
 " Come," replied the stranger " stopping at Crown Crown at 
 Muggleton met a party flannel jackets white trowsers anchovy 
 sandwiches devilled kidneys splendid fellows glorious." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was sufficiently versed in the stranger's system of 
 stenography to infer from this rapid and disjointed communication 
 that he had, somehow or other, contracted an acquaintance with the 
 All-Muggletons, which he had converted, by a process peculiar to him- 
 self, into that extent of good fellowship on which a general invitation 
 may be easily founded. His curiosity was therefore satisfied, and put- 
 ting on his spectacles he prepared himself to watch the play which 
 was just commencing. 
 
 All-Muggleton had the first innings ; and the interest became intense 
 when Mr. Dumkins and Mr. Podder, two of the most renowned mem- 
 bers of that most distinguished club, walked, bat in hand, to their 
 respective wickets. Mr. Luffey, the highest ornament of Dingley Dell 
 was pitched to bowl against the redoubtable Dumkins, and Mr. Strug- 
 gles was selected to do the same kind office for the hitherto uncon- 
 quered Podder. Several players were stationed, to " look out," in 
 different parts of the field, and each fixed himself into the proper atti- 
 tude by placing one hand on each knee, and stooping very much as if 
 he were " making a back " for some beginner at leap-frog. All 
 the regular players do this sort of thing; indeed it's generally
 
 *. *
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 69 
 
 supposed that it is quite impossible to look out properly in any other 
 position. 
 
 The umpires were stationed behind the wickets ; the scorers were pre- 
 pared to notch the runs ; a breathless silence ensued. Mr. Luffey retired 
 a few paces behind the wicket of the passive Fodder, and applied the 
 ball to his right eye for several seconds. Dumkins confidently awaited 
 its coming-, with his eyes fixed on the motions of Luffey. 
 
 " Play," suddenly cried the bowler. The ball flew from his hand 
 straight and swift towards the centre stump of the wicket. The wary 
 Dumkins was on the alert ; it fell upon the tip of the bat, and bounded 
 far away over the heads of the scouts, who had just stooped low enough 
 to let it fly aver them. 
 
 " Run run another. Now, then, throw her up up with her 
 stop there another no yes no throw her up, throw her up." 
 Such were the shouts which followed the stroke ; and, at the conclu- 
 sion of which All-Mug-gleton had scored two. Nor was Fodder behind- 
 hand in earning laurels wherewith to garnish himself and Muggleton. 
 He blocked the doubtful balls, missed the bad ones, took the good ones, 
 and sent them flying to all parts of the field. The scouts were hot 
 and tired ; the bowlers were changed and bowled till their arms ached ; 
 but Dumkins and Fodder remained unconquered. Did an elderly 
 gentleman essay to stop the progress of the ball, it rolled between his 
 legs, or slipped between his fingers. Did a slim gentleman try to catch 
 it, it struck him on the nose, and bounded pleasantly off with redoubled 
 violence, while the slim gentleman's eyes filled with water, and his 
 form writhed with anguish. Was it thrown straight up to the wicket, 
 Dumkins had reached it before the ball. In short, when Dumkins was 
 caught out, and Fodder stumped out, All-Muggleton had notched some 
 fifty-four, while the score of the Dingley Dellers was as blank as their 
 faces. The advantage was too great to be recovered. In vain did the 
 eager Luffey, and the enthusiastic Struggles, do all that skill and expe- 
 rience could suggest, to regain the ground Dingley Dell had lost in the 
 contest ; it was of no avail ; and in an early period of the winning 
 game Dingley Dell gave in, and allowed the superior prowess of All- 
 Muggleton. 
 
 The stranger, meanwhile, had been eating, drinking, and talking, 
 without cessation. At every good stroke he expressed his satisfaction 
 and approval of the player in a most condescending and patronising 
 manner, which could not fail to have been highly gratifying to the 
 party concerned ; while at every bad attempt at a catch, and every 
 failure to stop the ball, he launched his personal displeasure at the head 
 of the devoted individual in such denunciations as " Ah, ah I stupid" 
 " Now butter-fingers" "Muff" "Humbug" and so forth 
 ejaculations which seemed to establish him in the opinion of all around, 
 as a most excellent and undeniable judge of the whole art and mystery 
 of the noble game of cricket. 
 
 " Capital game well played some strokes admirable," said the 
 stranger as both sides crowded into the tent, at the conclusion of the 
 game. 
 
 i2
 
 70 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 "You have played it Sir?" inquired Mr. Wardle, who had been 
 much amused by his loquacity. 
 
 " Played it ! Think I have thousands of times not here West 
 Indies exciting thing hot work very." 
 
 " It must be rather a warm pursuit in such a climate," observed Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Warm ! red hot scorching glowing. Played a match once 
 single wicket friend the Colonel Sir Thomas Blazo who should 
 get the greatest number of runs. Won the toss first innings seven 
 o'clock, A.M. six natives to look out went in ; kept in heat intense 
 natives all fainted taken away fresh half-dozen ordered fainted 
 also Blazo bowling supported by two natives couldn't bowl me 
 out fainted too cleared away the Colonel wouldn't give in faithful 
 attendant Quanko Samba last man left sun so hot, bat in blisters, 
 ball scorched brown five hundred and seventy runs rather ex- 
 hausted Quanko mustered up last remaining strength bowled me out 
 had a bath, and went out to dinner " 
 
 " And what became of what's-his-name, Sir?" inquired an old 
 gentleman. 
 
 Blazo ? " 
 
 " No the other gentleman." 
 
 "Quanko Samba?" 
 
 " Yes Sir." 
 
 " Poor Quanko never recovered it bowled on, on my account 
 bowled off, on his own died Sir." Here the stranger buried his 
 countenance in a brown jug, but whether to hide his emotion or imbibe 
 its contents, we cannot distinctly affirm. We only know that he paused 
 suddenly, drew a long and deep breath, and looked anxiously on, as two 
 of the principal members of the Dingley Dell club approached Mr. 
 Pickwick, and said 
 
 " We are about to partake of a plain dinner at the Blue Lion, Sir ; 
 we hope you and your friends will join us." 
 
 " Of course," said Mr. Wardle, " among our friends we include Mr. 
 ;" and he looked towards the stranger. 
 
 " Jingle," said that versatile gentleman, taking the hint at once. 
 " Jingle Alfred Jingle, Esq., of No Hall, Nowhere." 
 
 " I shall be very happy, I am sure," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " So shall I," said Mr. Alfred Jingle, drawing one arm through Mr. 
 Pickwick's, and another through Mr Wardle's, as he whispered confi- 
 dentially in the ear of the former gentleman : 
 
 " Devilish good dinner cold, but capital peeped into the room 
 this morning fowls and pies, and all that sort of thing pleasant 
 fellows these well behaved, too very." 
 
 There being no further preliminaries to arrange, the company strag- 
 gled into the town in little knots of twos and threes; and within a 
 quarter of an hour were all seated in the great room of the Blue Lion 
 Inn Muggleton Mr. Dumkius acting as chairman, and Mr. Luffey 
 officiating as vice. 
 
 There was a vast deal of talking and rattling of knives and forks,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. Jl 
 
 and plates : a great running- about of three ponderous headed waiters, 
 and a rapid disappearance of the substantial viands on the table ; to 
 each and every of which item of confusion, the facetious Mr. Jingle 
 lent the aid of half-a-dozen ordinary men at least. When everybody 
 had eat as much as they could, the cloth was removed, bottles, glasses, 
 and dessert were placed on the table ; and the waiters withdrew to "clear 
 away," or in other words, to appropriate to their own private use and 
 emolument, whatever remnants of the eatables and drinkables they 
 could contrive to lay their hands on. 
 
 Amidst the general hum of mirth and conversation that ensued, 
 there was a little man with a puffy Say-nothing-to-me,-or-ni-contradict- 
 you sort of countenance, who remained very quiet ; occasionally look- 
 ing round him when the conversation slackened, as if he contemplated 
 putting in something very weighty : and now and then bursting into 
 a short cough of inexpressible grandeur. At length, during a moment of 
 comparative silence, the little man called out in a very loud, solemn voice, 
 
 " Mr. Luffey." 
 
 Everybody was hushed into a profound stillness as the individual 
 addressed, replied, 
 
 " Sir." 
 
 " I wish to address a few words to you Sir, if you will entreat the 
 gentlemen to fill their glasses." 
 
 Mr. Jingle uttered a patronizing " hear, hear," which was responded 
 to, by the remainder of the company : and the glasses having been 
 filled the Vice-President assumed an air of wisdom in a state of pro- 
 found attention ; and said, 
 
 Mr. Staple." 
 
 " Sir," said the little man, rising, " I wish to address what I have to 
 say to you and not to our worthy chairman, because our worthy chair- 
 man is in some measure I may say in a great degree the subject of 
 what I have to say, or I may say to to 
 
 " State," suggested Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " Yes, to state" said the little man, " I thank my honourable 
 friend, if he will allow me to call him so (four hears, and one cer- 
 tainly from Mr. Jingle) for the suggestion. Sir, I am a Deller a 
 Dingley Deller, (cheers). I cannot lay claim to the honour of forming 
 an item in the population of Muggleton ; nor Sir, I will frankly admit, 
 do I covet that honour : and I will tell you why Sir, (hear); to 
 Muggleton I will readily concede all those honours and distinctions 
 to which it can fairly lay claim they are too numerous and too 
 well known to require aid or recapitulation from me. But Sir, 
 while we remember that Muggleton has given birth to a Dumkins 
 and a Fodder, let us never forget that Dingley Dell can boast a 
 Luffey and a Struggles. (Vociferous cheering.) Let me not be 
 considered as wishing to detract from the merits of the former gen- 
 tlemen. Sir, I envy them the luxury of their own feelings, on this 
 occasion. (Cheers). Every gentlemao who hears me, is probably 
 acquainted with the reply made by an individual, who to use an 
 ordinary figure of speech ' hung out ' in a tub, to the emperor 
 Alexander : ' If I were not Diogenes,' said he ' I would be Alexander.'
 
 72 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OV 
 
 I can well imagine these gentlemen to say, ' If I were not Dumkins I 
 would be Lufiey ; if I were not Fodder I would be Struggles.' (Enthu- 
 siasm.) But gentlemen of Muggleton is it in cricket alone that your 
 fellow-townsmen stand pre-eminent? Have you never heard of Dum- 
 kins and determination? Have you never been taught to associate 
 Fodder with property? (Great applause). Have you never, when 
 struggling for your rights, your liberties, and your privileges, been 
 reduced, if only for an instant, to misgiving and despair? And when 
 you have been thus depressed, has not the name of Dumkins laid afresh 
 within your breast, the fire which had just gone out ; and has not 
 a word from that man, lighted it again as brightly as if it had never 
 expired ? (Great cheering.) Gentlemen, I beg you to surround with 
 a rich halo of enthusiastic cheering, the united names of ' Dumkins 
 and Fodder.'" 
 
 Here the little man ceased, and here the company commenced a 
 raising of voices, and thumping of tables, which lasted with little inter- 
 mission during the remainder of the evening. Other toasts were drunk. 
 Mr. Luffey and Mr. Struggles, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Jingle, were, 
 each in his turn, the subject of i:nqualified eulogium ; and each in due 
 course returned thanks for the honour. 
 
 Enthusiastic as we are in the noble cause to which we have devoted 
 ourselves, we should hare felt a sensation of pride which we cannot 
 express, and a consciousness of having done something to merit 
 immortality of which we are now deprived, could we have laid the 
 faintest outline of these addresses before our ardent readers. Mr. 
 Snodgrass, as usual, took a great mass of notes, which would no doubt 
 have afforded most useful and valuable information, had not the burn- 
 ing eloquence of the words, or the feverish influence of the wine made 
 that gentleman's hand so extremely unsteady, as to render his writing 
 nearly unintelligible, and his style wholly so. By dint of patient 
 investigation, we have been enabled to trace some characters bearing a 
 faint resemblance to the names of the speakers ; and we can also discern 
 an entry of a song (supposed to have been sung by Mr. Jingle,) in 
 which the words " bowl" " sparkling" " ruby" " bright," and " wine" 
 are frequently repeated at short intervals. We fancy too, that we can 
 discern at the very end of the notes, some indistinct reference to 
 "broiled bones;" and then the words "cold" "without" occur: but as 
 any hypothesis we could found upon them must necessarily rest upon 
 mere conjecture, we are not disposed to indulge in any of the specu- 
 lations to which they may give rise. 
 
 We will therefore return to Mr. Tupman ; merely adding that within 
 some few minutes before twelve o'clock that night, the convocation of 
 worthies of Dingley Dell and Muggleton, were heard to sing with great 
 feeling and emphasis, the beautiful and pathetic national air, of 
 
 We won 't go home 'till morning, 
 We won't go borne 'till morning, 
 AVe won't go home 'till morning, 
 'Till day-light doth appear.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 73 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 STRONGLY ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE POSITION, THAT THE COURSE 
 OF TRUE LOVE IS NOT A RAILWAY. 
 
 THE quiet seclusion of Dingley Dell, the presence of so many of the 
 gentler sex, and the solicitude and anxiety they evinced in his behalf, 
 were all favourable to the growth and development of those softer feel- 
 ings which nature had implanted deep in the bosom of Mr. Tracy Tup- 
 man, and which now appeared destined to centre in one lovely object. 
 The young ladies were pretty, their manners winning, their dispositions 
 unexceptionable ; but there was a dignity in the air, a touch-me-not- 
 ishness in the walk, a majesty in the eye of the spinster aunt, to which, 
 at their time of life they could lay no claim, which distinguished her 
 from any female on whom Mr. Tupman had ever gazed. That there 
 was something kindred in their nature, something congenial in their 
 souls, something mysteriously sympathetic in their bosoms, was evident. 
 Her name was the first that rose to Mr. Tupman's lips as he lay 
 wounded on the grass ; and her hysteric laughter, was the first sound 
 that fell upon his ear, when he was supported to the house. But 
 had her agitation arisen from an amiable and feminine sensibility 
 which would have been equally irrepressible in any case ; or had it been 
 called forth by a more ardent and passionate feeling, which he, of all 
 men living, could alone awaken ? These were the doubts which racked 
 his brain as he lay extended on the sofa : these were the doubts which 
 he determined should be at once and for ever resolved. 
 
 It was evening. Isabella and Emily had strolled out with Mr. 
 Trundle ; the deaf old lady had fallen asleep in her chair ; the snoring 
 of the fat boy, penetrated in a low and monotonous sound from the 
 distant kitchen ; the buxom servants were lounging at the side-door, 
 enjoying the pleasantness of the hour, and the delights of a flirtation, 
 on first principles, with certain unwieldy animals attached to the farm ; 
 and there sat the interesting pair, uncared for by all, caring for none, 
 and dreaming only of themselves : there they sat, in short, like a pair 
 of carefully-folded kid-gloves bound up in each other. 
 
 " I have forgotten my flowers," said the spinster aunt. 
 
 " Water them now," said Mr. Tupman, in accents of persuasion. 
 
 " You will take cold in the evening air," urged the spinster aunt, 
 affectionately. 
 
 " No, no," said Mr. Tupman, rising ; " it will do me good. Let me 
 accompany you." 
 
 The lady paused to adjust the sling in which the left arm of the 
 youth was placed, and taking his right arm led him to the garden. 
 
 There was a bower at the further end, with honeysuckle, jessamine, 
 and creeping plants one of those sweet retreats, which humane men 
 erect for the accommodation of spiders.
 
 74 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 The spinster aunt took up a large watering-pot which lay in one 
 corner, and was about to leave the arbour. Mr. Tupman detained her, 
 and drew her to a seat beside him 
 
 " Miss Wardle ! " said he. 
 
 The spinster aunt trembled, till some pebbles which had accidentally 
 found their way into the large watering-pot, shook like an infant's 
 rattle. 
 
 " Miss Wardle," said Mr. Tupman, " you are an angel." 
 
 " Mr. Tupman!" exclaimed Rachael, blushing as red as the watering- 
 pot itself. 
 
 " Nay," said the eloquent Pickwickian " I know it but too well." 
 
 " All women are angels, they say," murmured the lady, playfully. 
 
 " Then what can you be ; or to what, without presumption, can I 
 compare you?" replied Mr. Tupman. " Where was the woman ever 
 seen, who resembled you ? Where else could I hope to find so rare 
 a combination of excellence and beauty ? Where else could I seek 
 
 to Oh ! " Here Mr. Tupman paused, and pressed the hand which 
 
 clasped the handle of the happy watering-pot. 
 
 The lady turned aside her head. " Men are such deceivers," she 
 softly whispered. 
 
 " They are, they are," ejaculated Mr. Tupman ; " but not all men. 
 There lives at least one being who can never change one being who 
 would be content to devote his whole existence to your happiness 
 who lives but in your eyes who breathes but in your smiles who 
 bears the heavy burden of life itself only for you." 
 
 ' Could such an individual be found," said the lady 
 
 " But he can be found," said the ardent Mr. Tupman, interposing. 
 ' He is found. He is here Miss Wardle." And ere the lady was 
 awareof his intention, Mr. Tupman had sunk upon his knees at her 
 feet. 
 
 " Mr. Tupman, rise," said Rachael. 
 
 'Never!" was the valorous reply. "Oh, Rachael!" He seized 
 her passive hand, and the watering-pot fell to the ground as he pressed 
 it to his lips. " Oh, Rachael ! say you love me." 
 
 " Mr. Tupman," said the spinster aunt, with averted head " I can 
 hardly speak the words ; but but you are not wholly indifferent 
 to me." 
 
 Mr. Tupman no sooner heard this avowal, than he proceeded to do 
 what his enthusiastic emotions prompted, and what, for aught we know, 
 (for we are but little acquainted with such matters,) people so circum- 
 stanced always do. He jumped up, and, throwing bis arm round the 
 neck of the spinster aunt, imprinted upon her lips numerous kisses, 
 which after a due show of struggling and resistance, she received so 
 passively, that there is no telling how many more Mr. Tupman might 
 have bestowed, if the lady had not given a very unaffected start and 
 exclaimed in an affrighted tone, 
 
 " Mr. Tupman, we are observed ! we are discovered !" 
 
 Mr. Tupman looked round. There was the fat boy, perfectly motion- 
 less, with his large circular eyes staring into the arbour, but without 
 the slightest expression on his face that the most expert physiogno-
 
 :w *
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 75 
 
 mist could have referred to astonishment, curiosity, or any other known 
 passion that agitates the human breast. Mr. Tupman gazed on the fat 
 boy, and the fat boy stared at him ; and the longer Mr. Tupman ob- 
 served the utter vacancy of the fat boy's countenance, the more con- 
 vinced he became that he either did not know, or did not understand, 
 anything that had been going forward. Under this impression, he said 
 with great firmness, 
 
 " What do you want here, Sir?" 
 
 " Suoper 's ready Sir," was the prompt reply. 
 
 " Have you just come here Sir ? " inquired Mr. Tupman, with a 
 piercing look. 
 
 " Just," replied the fat boy. 
 
 Mr. Tupman looked at him very hard again ; but there was not a 
 wink in his eye, or a curve in his face. 
 
 Mr. Tupman took the arm of the spinster aunt, and walked towards 
 the house ; the fat boy followed behind. 
 
 " He knows nothing of what has happened," he whispered. 
 
 " Nothing," said the spinster aunt. 
 
 There was a sound behind them, as of an imperfectly suppressed 
 chuckle. Mr. Tupman turned sharply round. No ; it could not have 
 been the fat boy ; there was not a gleam of mirth, or anything but 
 feeding in his whole visage. 
 
 " He must have been fast asleep," whispered Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " I have not the least doubt of it," replied the spinster aunt. 
 
 They both laughed heartily. 
 
 Mr. Tupman was wrong. The fat boy, for once, had not been 
 fast asleep. He was awake wide awake to what had been going 
 forward. 
 
 The supper passed off without any attempt at a general conversation. 
 The old lady had gone to bed ; Isabella Wardle devoted herself exclu- 
 sively to Mr. Trundle ; the spinster aunt's attentions were reserved for 
 Mr. Tupman ; and Emily's thoughts appeared to be engrossed by some 
 distant object possibly they were with the absent Snodgrass. 
 
 Eleven twelve one o'clock had struck, and the gentlemen had not 
 arrived. Consternation sat on every face. Could they have been way- 
 laid and robbed ? Should they send men and lanterns in every direc- 
 tion by which they could be supposed likely to have travelled home ? 
 
 or should they Hark ! there they were. What could have made 
 
 them so late ? A strange voice, too ! To whom could it belong ? 
 They rushed into the kitchen whither the truants had repaired, and at 
 once obtained rather more than a glimmering of the real state of 
 the case. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, with his hands in his pockets and his hat cocked 
 completely over his left eye, was leaning against the dresser, shaking 
 his head from side to side, and producing a constant succession of the 
 blandest and most benevolent smiles without being moved thereunto by 
 any discernible cause or pretence whatsoever; old Mr. Wardle, with 
 a highly-inflamed countenance, was grasping the hand of a strange 
 gentleman muttering protestations of eternal friendship ; Mr. Winkle, 
 supporting himself by the eight-day clock, was feebly invoking destruc-
 
 76 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 tion upon the head of any member of the family who should suggest 
 the propriety of his retiring for the night ; and Mr. Snodgrass had 
 sunk into a chair, with an expression of the most abject and hopeless 
 misery that the human mind can imagine, portrayed in every lineament 
 of his expressive face. 
 
 " Is anything the matter?" inquired the three ladies. 
 
 " Nothin' the matter," replied Mr. Pickwick. "We we're all 
 right. I say, Wardle, we're all right, ain't we ?" 
 
 " I should think so," replied the jolly host. " My dears, here's my 
 friend Mr. Jingle Mr. Pickwick's friend, Mr. Jingle, come 'pon 
 little visit." 
 
 " Is anything the matter with Mr. Snodgrass Sir ? " inquired Emily, 
 with great anxiety. 
 
 " Nothing the matter, Ma'am," replied the stranger. " Cricket 
 dinner glorious party capital songs old port claret good very 
 good wine, Ma'am wine." 
 
 " It wasn't the wine," murmured Mr. Snodgrass, in a broken voice. 
 " It was the salmon." (Somehow or other, it never is the wine, in 
 these cases). 
 
 " Hadn't they better go to bed Ma'am ? " inquired Emma. " Two 
 of the boys will carry the gentlemen up stairs." 
 
 " I won't go to bed," said Mr Winkle, firmly. 
 
 " No living boy shall carry me," said Mr. Pickwick, stoutly ; and 
 he went on smiling as before. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " gasped Mr. Winkle faintly. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " echoed Mr. Pickwick, taking off his hat and dashing it 
 on the floor, and insanely casting his spectacles into the middle of the 
 kitchen. At this humorous feat he laughed outright. 
 
 " Let's have 'nother bottle," cried Mr. Winkle, commencing in 
 a very loud key, and ending in a very faint one. His head dropped 
 upon his breast ; and, muttering his invincible determination not to go 
 to his bed, and a sanguinary regret that he had not " done for old Tup- 
 man " in the morning, he fell fast asleep ; in which condition he was 
 borne to his apartment by two young giants under the personal super- 
 intendence of the fat boy, to whose protecting care Mr. Snodgrass 
 shortly afterwards confided his own person. Mr. Pickwick accepted the 
 proffered arm of Mr. Tupman and quietly disappeared, smiling more 
 than ever ; and Mr. Wardle after taking as affectionate a leave of the 
 whole family as if he were ordered for immediate execution, consigned 
 to Mr. Trundle the honour of conveying him up stairs, and retired, 
 with a very futile attempt to look impressively solemn and dignified. 
 
 " What a shocking scene ! " said the spinster aunt. 
 
 " Dis-gusting ! " ejaculated both the young ladies. 
 
 "Dreadful dreadful!" said Jingle, looking very grave; he wa* 
 about a bottle and a half ahead of any of his companions. " Horrid 
 spectacle very." 
 
 " What a nice man !" whispered the spinster aunt to Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Good-looking, too ! " whispered Emily Wardle. 
 
 " Oh, decidedly," observed the spinster aunt. 
 
 Mr. Tupman thought of the widow at Rochester : and his mind was
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 77 
 
 troubled. The succeeding- half-hour's conversation was not of a nature 
 to calm his perturbed spirit. The new visiter was very talkative, and 
 the number of his anecdotes was only to be exceeded by the extent of 
 his politeness. Mr. Tupman felt, that as Jingle's popularity increased, 
 he (Tupman) retired further into the shade. His laughter was forced 
 his merriment feigned ; and when at last he laid his aching temples 
 between the sheets, he thought, with horrid delight on the satisfaction 
 it would afford him, to have Jingle's head at that moment between the 
 feather bed and the mattrass. 
 
 The indefatigable stranger rose betimes next morning, and, although 
 his companions remained in bed overpowered with the dissipation of 
 the previous night, exerted himself most successfully to promote the 
 hilarity of the breakfast-table. So successful were his efforts, that even 
 the deaf old lady insisted on having one or two of his best jokes retailed 
 through the trumpet ; and even she condescended to observe to the 
 spinster aunt, that " he" (meaning Jingle) " was an impudent young 
 fellow" a sentiment in which all her relations then and there present 
 thoroughly coincided. 
 
 It was the old lady's habit on the fine summer mornings to repair 
 to the arbour in which Mr. Tupman had already signalised himself, 
 in form and manner following : first, the fat boy fetched from a peg 
 behind the old lady's bed-room door, a close black satin bonnet, a warm 
 cotton shawl, and a thick stick with a capacious handle ; and the old 
 lady having put on the bonnet and shawl at her leisure, would lean one 
 hand on the stick and the other on the fat boy's shoulder, and walk 
 leisurely to the arbour, where the fat boy would leave her to enjoy the 
 fresh air for the space of half an hour ; at the expiration of which time 
 he would return and reconduct her back to the house. 
 
 The old lady was very precise and very particular ; and as this cere- 
 mony had been observed for three successive summers without the 
 slightest deviation from the accustomed form, she was not a little sur- 
 prised on this particular morning, to see the fat boy, instead of leaving 
 the arbour, walk a few paces out of it, look carefully round him in 
 every direction, and return towards her with great stealth and an air 
 of the most profound mystery. 
 
 The old lady was timorous most old ladies are and her first impres- 
 sion was that the bloated lad was about to do her some grievous bodily 
 harm with the view of possessing himself of her loose coin. She would 
 have cried for assistance, but age and infirmity had long ago deprived 
 her of the power of screaming ; she, therefore, watched his motions with 
 feelings of intense terror, which were in no degree diminished by his 
 coming close up to her, and shouting in her ear in an agitated, and as 
 it seemed to her, a threatening tone, 
 
 "Missus!" 
 
 Now it so happened that Mr. Jingle was walking in the garden close 
 to the arbour at this moment. He too heard the shout of ' Missus," 
 and stopped to hear more. There were three reasons for his doing so. 
 In the first place, he was idle and curious ; secondly, he was by no 
 means scrupulous ; thirdly, and lastly, he was concealed from view by 
 some flowering shrubs. So there he stood, and there he listened.
 
 78 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OK 
 
 ** Missus," shouted the fat boy. 
 
 "Well Joe," said the trembling old lady. " I'm sure I have been 
 a good mistress to you Joe. You have invariably been treated very 
 kindly. You have never had too much to do ; and you have always 
 had enough to eat." 
 
 This last was an appeal to the fat boy's most sensitive feelings. He 
 seemed touched as he replied, emphatically, 
 
 " I knows I has." 
 
 " Then what can you want to do now?" said the old lady, gaining 
 courage. 
 
 " I wants to make your flesh creep," replied the boy. 
 
 This sounded like a very blood-thirsty mode of showing one's grati- 
 tude ; and as the old lady did not precisely understand the process by 
 which such a result was to be attained, all her former horrors returned. 
 
 " What do you think I see in this very arbour last ni^ht ?" inquired 
 the boy. 
 
 " Bless us ! What ?" exclaimed the old lady, alarmed at the solemn 
 manner of the corpulent youth. 
 
 " The strange gentleman him as had his arm hurt a kissin' and 
 huggin'' " 
 
 " Who, Joe who ? None of the servants, I hope." 
 
 " Worser than that," roared the fat boy, in the old lady's ear. 
 
 " Not one of my grand-da'aters ? " 
 
 " Worser than that." 
 
 " Worse than that Joe ! " said the old lady, who had thought this 
 the extreme limit of human atrocity. " Who was it, Joe ? I insist 
 upon knowing." 
 
 The fat boy looked cautiously round, and having concluded his survey, 
 shouted in the old lady's ear, 
 
 " Miss Rachael." 
 
 " What I " said the old lady, in a shrill tone. " Speak louder." 
 
 " Miss Rachael," roared the fat boy. 
 
 " My da'ater I " 
 
 The train of nods which the fat boy gave by way of assent, communi- 
 cated a blanc-mange like motion to his fat cheeks. 
 
 " And she suffered him !" exclaimed the old lady. 
 
 A grin stole over the fat boy's features as he said, 
 
 " I see her a kissin' of him agin." 
 
 If Mr. Jingle, from his place of concealment, could have beheld the 
 expression which the old lady's face assumed at this communication, 
 the probability is that a sudden burst of laughter would have betrayed 
 his close vicinity to the summer-house. He listened attentively. 
 Fragments of angry sentences such as, " Without my permission ! " 
 "At her time of life" "Miserable old 'ooman like me" "Might 
 have waited till I was dead," and so forth, reached his ears ; and then 
 he heard the heels of the fat boy's boots crunching the gravel, as he 
 retired and left the old lady alone. 
 
 It was a remarkable coincidence perhaps, but it was nevertheless a 
 fact, that Mr. Jingle within five minutes after his arrival at Manor 
 Farm on the preceding night, had inwardly resolved to lay siege to
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 79 
 
 the heart of the spinster aunt, without delay. He had observation 
 enough to see, that his off-hand manner was by no means disagreeable 
 to the fair object of his attack ; and he had more than a strong sus- 
 picion that she possessed that most desirable of all requisites, a small 
 independence. The imperative necessity of ousting his rival by some 
 means or other, flashed quickly upon him, and he immediately resolved 
 to adopt certain proceedings tending to that end and object, without a 
 moment's delay. Fielding tells us that man is fire, and woman tow, and 
 the Prince of Darkness sets a light to 'em. Mr. Jingle knew that 
 young men, to spinster aunts, are as lighted gas to gunpowder, and he 
 determined to essay the effect of an explosion without loss of time. 
 
 Full of reflections upon this important decision, he crept from his 
 place of concealment, and, under cover of the shrubs before mentioned, 
 approached the house. Fortune seemed determined to favour his 
 design. Mr. Tupman and the rest of the gentlemen left the garden by 
 the side gate just as he obtained a view of it ; and the young ladies 
 he knew, had walked out alone, soon after breakfast. The coast was 
 clear. 
 
 The breakfast-parlour door was partially open. He peeped in. The 
 spinster aunt was knitting. He coughed ; she looked up and smiled. 
 Hesitation formed no part of Mr. Alfred Jingle's character. He laid 
 his finger on his lips mysteriously, walked in, and closed the door. 
 
 " Miss Wardle," said Mr. Jingle, with affected earnestness, " for- 
 give intrusion short acquaintance no time for ceremony all dis- 
 covered." 
 
 " Sir ! " said the spinster aunt, rather astonished by the unexpected 
 apparition and somewhat doubtful of Mr. Jingle's sanity. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Mr. Jingle, in a stage whisper ; " large boy 
 dumpling face round eyes rascal I " Here he shook his head expres- 
 sively, and the spinster aunt trembled with agitation. 
 
 " I presume you allude to Joseph Sir ? " said the lady, making an 
 effort to appear composed. 
 
 " Yes, Ma'am damn that Joe ! treacherous dog, Joe told the old 
 lady old lady furious wild raving arbour Tupman kissing and 
 hugging all that sort of thing eh, Ma'am eh?" 
 
 " Mr. Jingle," said the spinster aunt, " if you come here Sir, to 
 insult me ." 
 
 " Not at all by no means," replied the unabashed Mr. Jingle ; 
 " overheard the tale came to warn you of your danger tender my 
 services prevent the hubbub. Never mind think it an insult 
 leave the room " and he turned, as if to carry the threat into 
 execution. 
 
 " What shall I do ! " said the poor spinster, bursting into tears. " My 
 brother will be furious ! " 
 
 " Of course he will," said Mr. Jingle pausing "outrageous." 
 
 " Oh Mr. Jingle, what can I say ! " exclaimed the spinster aunt, in 
 another flood of despair. 
 
 " Say he dreamt it," replied Mr. Jingle, coolly. 
 
 A ray of comfort darted across the mind of the spinster aunt at this 
 suggestion. Mr. Jingle perceived it, and followed up his advantage.
 
 80 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! nothing- more easy blackguard boy lovely 
 woman fat boy horsewhipped you believed end of the matter all 
 comfortable." 
 
 Whether the probability o'f escaping from the consequences of this 
 ill-timed discovery was delightful to the spinster's feelings, or whether 
 the hearing herself described as a " lovely woman" softened the asperity 
 of her grief, we know not. She blushed slightly, and cast a grateful 
 look on Mr. Jingle. 
 
 That insinuating gentleman sighed deeply, fixed his eyes on the 
 spinster aunt's face for a couple of minutes, started melo-dramatically, 
 and suddenly withdrew them. 
 
 " You seem unhappy Mr. Jingle," said the lady, in a plaintive 
 voice. " May I show my gratitude for your kind interference, by 
 inquiring into the cause, with a view, if possible, to its removal?" 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed Mr. Jingle, with another start " removal ! 
 remove my unhappiness, and your love bestowed upon a man who is 
 insensible to the blessing who even now contemplates a design upon 
 the affections of the niece of the creature who but no ; he is my 
 friend; I will not expose his vices. Miss Wardle farewell!" At 
 the conclusion of this address, the most consecutive he was ever 
 known to utter, Mr. Jingle applied to his eyes the remnant of a hand- 
 kerchief before noticed, and turned towards the door. 
 
 " Stay, Mr. Jingle !" said the spinster aunt emphatically. " You have 
 made an allusion to Mr. Tupman explain it." 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed Jingle, with a professional (i. e. theatrical) air. 
 " Never ! " and, by way of showing that he had no desire to be ques- 
 tioned further, he drew a chair close to that of the spinster aunt and 
 sat down. 
 
 " Mr. Jingle," said the aunt, " I entreat I implore you, if there is 
 any dreadful mystery connected with Mr. Tupman, reveal it." 
 
 " Can I," said Mr. Jingle, fixing his eyes on the aunt's face " Can 
 I see lovely creature sacrificed at the shrine heartless avarice!" 
 He appeared to be struggling with various conflicting emotions for a 
 few seconds, -and then said in a low deep voice "Tupman only 
 wants your money." 
 
 " The wretch !" exclaimed the spinster, with energetic indignation. 
 (Mr. Jingle's doubts were resolved. She had money). 
 
 " More than that," said Jingle " loves another." 
 
 " Another !" ejaculated the spinster. " Who?" 
 
 " Short girl black eyes niece Emily." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 Now if there were one individual in the whole world, of whom the 
 spinster aunt entertained a mortal and deeply-rooted jealousy, it was 
 this identical niece. The colour rushed over her face and neck, and 
 she tossed her head in silence with an air of ineffable contempt. At 
 last, biting her thin lips, and bridling up, she said, 
 
 " It can't be. I won't believe it." 
 
 " Watch 'em " said Jingle. 
 
 " I will " said the aunt. 
 
 Watch his looks."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 81 
 
 I Will." 
 
 " His whispers." 
 
 I will." 
 
 " He'll sit next her at table." 
 
 " Let him." 
 
 " He'll flatter her." 
 
 " Let him." 
 
 " He'll pay her every possible attention." 
 
 " Let him." 
 
 " And he '11 cut you." 
 
 " Cut me ! " screamed the spinster aunt. " He cut me ; will he ! " 
 and she trembled with rage and disappointment. 
 
 " You will convince yourself? " said Jingle. 
 
 I will. 
 
 " You'll show your spirit?" 
 
 I will." 
 
 " You'll not have him afterwards?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " You'll take somebody else?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " You shall." 
 
 Mr. Jingle fell on his knees, remained thereupon for five minutes 
 thereafter : and rose the accepted lover of the spinster aunt condition- 
 ally upon Tupman's perjury being made clear and manifest. 
 
 The burden of proof lay with Mr. Alfred Jingle ; and he produced his 
 evidence that very day at dinner. The spinster aunt could hardly 
 believe her eyes. Mr. Tracy Tupman was established at Emily's side, 
 ogling, whispering, and smiling, in opposition to Mr. Snodgrass. Not 
 a word, not a look, not a glance, did he bestow upon his heart's pride 
 of the evening before. 
 
 "Damn that boy!" thought old Mr. Wardle to himself. He had 
 heard the story from his mother. " Damn that boy ! He must have 
 been asleep. It's all imagination." 
 
 " Traitor ! " thought the spinster aunt to herself. " Dear Mr. Jingle 
 was not deceiving me. Oh ! how I hate the wretch 1" 
 
 The following- conversation may serve to explain to our readers, this 
 apparently unaccountable alteration of deportment, on the part of Mr. 
 Tracy Tupman. 
 
 The time was evening ; the scene the garden. There were two 
 figures walking in a side path ; one was rather short and stout ; the 
 other rather tall and slim. They were Mr. Tupman and Mr. Jingle. 
 The stout figure commenced the dialogue. 
 
 " How did I do it ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Splendid capital couldn't act better myself you must repeat 
 the part to-morrow every evening, till further notice." 
 
 " Does Rachael still wish it?" 
 
 " Of course she don't like it but must be done avert suspicion 
 afraid of her brother says there's no help for it only few days more 
 when old folks blinded crown your happiness."
 
 81i POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Any message?" 
 
 " Love best love kindest regards unalterable affection. Can I 
 say anything for you?" 
 
 "My dear fellow" replied the unsuspicious Mr. Tupman, fervently 
 grasping his " friend's " hand " carry my best love say how hard I 
 find it to dissemble say anything that's kind: but add how sensible 
 I am of the necessity of the suggestion she made to me, through 
 you, this morning. Say I applaud her wisdom and admire her 
 discretion." 
 
 " I will. Anything more ? " 
 
 " Nothing ; only add how ardently I long for the time when I may 
 call her mine, and all dissimulation may be unnecessary." 
 
 " Certainly, certainly. Anything more ? " 
 
 " Oh, my friend I " said poor Mr. Tupman, again grasping the hand 
 of his companion, " receive my warmest thanks for your disinterested 
 kindness ; and forgive me if I have ever, even in thought, done you 
 the injustice of supposing that you could stand in my way. My dear 
 friend can I ever repay you?" 
 
 " Don't talk of it," replied Mr. Jingle. He stopped short, as if 
 suddenly recollecting something, and said, " By-the-by, yovi can't 
 sp^are ten pounds, can you ? very particular purpose pay you in 
 three days." 
 
 " I dare say I can," replied Mr. Tupman, in the fulness of his heart. 
 " Three days, you say ?" 
 
 " Only three days all over then no more difficulties." 
 
 Mr. Tupman counted the money into his companion's hand, and he 
 dropped it piece by piece into his pocket, as they walked towards the 
 house. 
 
 " Be careful," said Mr. Jingle " not a look." 
 
 " Not a wink," said Mr. Tupraan. 
 
 " Not a syllable." 
 
 " Not a whisper." 
 
 " All your attentions to the niece rather rude, than otherwise, to 
 the aunt only way of deceiving the old ones." 
 
 " I'll take care," said Mr. Tupman, aloud. 
 
 " And I'll take care, " said Mr. Jingle internally ; and they entered 
 the house. 
 
 The scene of that afternoon was repeated that evening, and on the 
 three afternoons and evenings next ensuing. On the fourth, the host 
 was in high spirits, for he had satisfied himself that there was no 
 ground for the charge against Mr. Tupman. So was Mr. Tupman, for 
 Mr. Jingle had told him that his affair would soon be brought to a 
 crisis. So was Mr. Pickwick, for he was seldom otherwise. So was 
 not Mr. Snodgrass, for he had grown jealous of Mr. Tupman. So was 
 the old lady, for she had been winning at whist. So were Mr. Jingle 
 and Miss Wardle, for reasons of sufficient importance in this eventful 
 history, to be narrated in another chapter.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 83 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A DISCOVERY AND A CHASE. 
 
 THE supper was ready laid, the chairs were drawn round the table, 
 bottles, jugs and glasses were arranged upon the sideboard, and every 
 thing betokened the approach of the most convivial period in the whole 
 four and twenty hours. 
 
 Where's Rachael? " said Mr. Wardle. 
 
 " Aye, and Jingle ? " added Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Dear me," said the host, " I wonder I haven't missed him before. 
 Why, I don't think I've heard his voice for two hours at least. Emily, 
 my dear, ring the bell." 
 
 The bell was rung, and the fat boy appeared. 
 
 " Where's Miss Rachael ? " He couldn't say. 
 
 " Where's Mr. Jingle, then ? " He didn't know. 
 
 Every body looked surprised. It was late past eleven o'clock. Mr. 
 Tupman laughed in his sleeve. They were loitering somewhere, talking 
 about him. Ha, ha! capital notion that funny. 
 
 " Never mind," said Wardle, after a short pause, " they'll turn up 
 presently, I dare say. I never wait supper for anybody." 
 
 " Excellent rule, that," said Mr. Pickwick, " admirable." 
 
 " Pray, sit down," said the host. 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Pickwick : and down they sat. 
 
 There was a gigantic round of cold beef on the table, and Mr. Pick- 
 wick was supplied with a plentiful portion of it. He had raised his fork 
 to his lips, and was on the very point of opening his mouth for the 
 reception of a piece of beef, when the hum of many voices suddenly 
 arose in the kitchen. He paused, and laid down his fork. Mr. Wardle 
 paused too, and insensibly released his hold of the carving-knife, which 
 remained inserted in the beef. He looked at Mr. Pickwick. Mr. 
 Pickwick looked at him. 
 
 Heavy footsteps were heard in the passage ; the parlour door was 
 suddenly burst open ; and the man who had cleaned Mr. Pickwick's 
 boots on his first arrival, rushed into the room, followed by the fat boy, 
 and all the domestics. 
 
 "What the devil's the meaning of this?" exclaimed the host. 
 
 " The kitchen chimney ain't a-fire, is it, Emma ? " inquired the old 
 lady. 
 
 " Lor grandma ! No," screamed both the young ladies. 
 
 " What's the matter?" roared the master of the house. 
 
 The man gasped for breath, and faintly ejaculated 
 
 "They ha' gone, Mas'r! gone right clean off, Sir!" (At this 
 juncture, Mr. Tupman was observed to lay down his knife and fork, 
 and to turn very pale.)
 
 84 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Who's gone ? " said Mr. Wardle, fiercely. 
 
 " Mus'r Jingle and Miss Rachael, in a po'-chay, from Blue Lion, 
 Muggleton. I was there ; but I couldn't stop 'em ; so I run off to 
 tell'ee." 
 
 " I paid his expenses ! " said Mr. Tupman, jumping up frantically. 
 "He's got ten pounds of mine! stop him ! he's swindled me! I 
 won't bear it! I'll have justice, Pickwick! I won't stand it!" and 
 with sundry incoherent exclamations of the like nature, the unhappy 
 gentleman spun round and round the apartment, in a transport of 
 frenzy. 
 
 " Lord preserve us ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, eyeing the extraor- 
 dinary gestures of his friend with terrified surprise. " He's gone mad ! 
 What shall we do ! " 
 
 " Do ! " said the stout old host, who regarded only the last words of 
 the sentence. " Put the horse in the gig I I'll get a chaise at 
 the Lion, and follow 'em instantly. " Where " he exclaimed, as 
 the man ran out to execute the commission " Where's that villain, 
 Joe?" 
 
 " Here I am ; but I han't a willin," replied a voice. It was the 
 fat boy's. 
 
 " Let me get at him, Pickwick ! " cried Wardle, as he rushed at the 
 ill-starred youth. " He was bribed by that scoundrel, Jingle, to put 
 me on a wrong scent, by telling a cock-and-a-bull story of my sister 
 and your friend Tupman ! " (Here Mr. Tupman sunk into a chair.) 
 " Let me get at him ! " 
 
 "Don't let him!" screamed all the women, above whose exclama- 
 tions, the blubbering of the fat boy, was distinctly audible. 
 
 " I won't be held!" cried the old man. "Mr. Winkle, take your 
 hands off! Mr. Pickwick, let me go, Sir!" 
 
 It was a beautiful sight, in that moment of turmoil and confusion, to 
 behold the placid and philosophical expression of Mr. Pickwick's face, 
 albeit somewhat flushed with exertion, as he stood with his arms 
 firmly clasped round the extensive waist of their corpulent host, thus 
 restraining the impetuosity of his passion, while the fat boy was 
 scratched, and pulled, and pushed from the room by all the females 
 congregated therein. He had no sooner released his hold, than the 
 man entered to announce that the gig was ready. 
 
 "Don't let him go alone!" screamed the females. "He '11 kill 
 somebody !" 
 
 " I'll go with him," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " You're a good fellow, Pickwick," said the host, grasping his hand. 
 " Emma, give Mr. Pickwick a shawl to tie round his neck make haste. 
 Look after your grandmother, girls ; she's fainted away. Now then, 
 are you ready ? " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's mouth and chin, having been hastily enveloped in a 
 large shawl : his hat having been put on his head, and his great coat 
 thrown over his arm, he replied in the affirmative. 
 
 They jumped into the gig. " Give her, her head, Tom," cried the 
 host ; and away they went, down the narrow lanes : jolting in and out
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 85 
 
 of the cart-ruts, and bumping up against the hedges on either side, as 
 if they would go to pieces every moment. 
 
 " How much are they a-head?" shouted Wardle, as they drove up 
 to the door of the Blue Lion, round which a little crowd had col- 
 lected, late as it was. 
 .." Not above three-quarters of an hour," was everybody's reply. 
 
 " Chaise and four directly ! out with 'em ! Put up the gig after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Now, boys ! " cried the landlord " chaise and four out make 
 haste look alive there ! " 
 
 ; Away ran the hostlers, and the boys. The lanterns glimmered, as 
 the men ran to and fro; the horses' hoofs clattered on the uneven 
 paving of the yard ; the chaise rumbled as it was drawn out of the 
 coach-house ; and all was noise and bustle. 
 
 " Now then ! is that chaise coming out to-night?" cried Wardle. 
 
 " Coming down the yard now, Sir," replied the hostler. 
 
 Out came the chaise in went the horses on sprung the boys in 
 got the travellers. 
 
 " Mind the seven-mile stage in less than half an hour ! " shouted 
 Wardle. 
 
 " Off with you ! " 
 
 The boys applied whip and spur, the waiters shouted, the hostlers 
 cheered, and away they went, fast and furiously. 
 
 " Pretty situation," thought Mr. Pickwick, when he had had a 
 moment's time for reflection. " Pretty situation for the General 
 Chairman of the Pickwick Club. Damp chaise strange horses fifteen 
 miles an hour and twelve o'clock at night ! " 
 
 For the first three or four miles, not a word was spoken by either of 
 the gentlemen, each being too much immersed in his own reflections, 
 to address any observations to his companion. When they had gone 
 over that much ground, however, and the horses getting thoroughly 
 warmed began to do their work in really good style, Mr. Pickwick 
 became too much exhilarated with the rapidity of the motion, to remain 
 any longer perfectly mute. 
 
 " We're sure to catch them, I think," said he. 
 
 " Hope so," replied his companion. 
 
 " Fine night," said Mr. Pickwick, looking up at the moon, which 
 was shining brightly. 
 
 " So much the worse," returned Wardle ; " for they'll have had all 
 the advantage of the moonlight to get the start of us, and we shall lose 
 it. It will have gone down in another hour." 
 
 " It will be rather unpleasant going at this rate in the dark, won't 
 it ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick, 
 
 " I dare say it will," replied his friend drily. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's temporary excitement began to sober down a little, 
 as he reflected upon the inconveniences and dangers of the expedition 
 in which he had so thoughtlessly embarked. He was roused by a loud 
 shouting of the post-boy on the leader. 
 
 " Yo yo yo yo yoe," went the first boy. 
 
 K2
 
 86 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Yo yo yo yoe! " went the second. 
 
 " Yo yo yo yoe ! " chimed in old Wardle himself, most lustily, 
 with his head and half his body out of the coach window. 
 
 " Yo yo yo yoe ! " shouted Mr. Pickwick, taking- up the burden 
 of the cry, though he had not the slightest notion of its meaning or 
 object. And amidst the yo yoing of the whole four, the chaise 
 stopped. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " There's a gate here," replied old Wardle, " We shall hear some- 
 thing of the fugitives." 
 
 After a lapse of five minutes, consumed in incessant knocking and 
 shouting, an old man in his shirt 'and trousers emerged from the turn- 
 pike-house, and opened the gate. 
 
 " How long is it since a post-chaise went through here ? " inquired 
 Mr. Wardle. 
 
 ' How long ? " 
 
 'Ah! " 
 
 ' Why, I don't rightly know. It worn't a long time ago, nor it 
 worn't a short time ago just between the two, perhaps." 
 
 ' Has any chaise been by at all? " 
 
 ' Oh yes, there's been a chay by." 
 
 ' How long ago, my friend," interposed Mr. Pickwick, " an hour ? " 
 
 < Ah, I dare say it might be," replied the man. 
 
 ' Or two hours?" inquired the post-boy on the wheeler. 
 
 ' Well, I should n't wonder if it was," returned the old man doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " Drive on, boys," cried the testy old gentleman : " don't waste any 
 more time with that old idiot ! " 
 
 " Idiot ! " exclaimed the old man with a grin, as he stood in the 
 middle of the road with the gate half closed, watching the chaise which 
 rapidly diminished in the increasing distance. " No not much o' that 
 either ; you've lost ten minutes here, and gone away as wise as you came 
 arter all. If every man on the line as has a guinea give him earns it 
 half as well, you won't catch t'other chay this side Mich'lmas, old short 
 and fat." And with another prolonged grin, the old man closed the 
 gate, re-entered his house, and bolted the door after him. 
 
 Meanwhile the chaise proceeded, without any slackening of pace, 
 towards the conclusion of the stage. The moon, as \Vardle had fore- 
 told, was rapidly on the wane ; large tiers of dark heavy clouds which 
 had been gradually overspreading the sky for some time past, now 
 formed one black mass over head ; and large drops of rain which pat- 
 tered every now and then against the windows of the chaise, seemed to 
 warn the travellers of the rapid approach of a stormy night. The wind, 
 too, which was directly against them, swept in furious gusts CtowD tlie 
 narrow road, and howled dismally through the trees which skirted the 
 pathway. Mr. Pickwick drew his coat closer about him, coiled himself 
 more snugly up into the corner of the chaise, and fell into a sound 
 sleep, from which he was only awakened by the stopping of the vehicle, 
 the sound of the hostler's bell, and a loud cry of " Horses on directly ! "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 87 
 
 But here another delay occurred. The boys were sleeping with such 
 mysterious soundness, that it took five minutes a-piece to wake them. 
 The hostler had somehow or other mislaid the key of the stable, and 
 even when that was found, two sleepy helpers put the wrong harness 
 on the wrong horses, and the whole process of harnessing had to be 
 gone through afresh. Had Mr. Pickwick been alone, these multiplied 
 obstacles would have completely put an end to the pursuit at once, but 
 old Wardle was not to be so easily daunted ; and he laid about him with 
 such hearty good-will, cuffing this man, and pushing that ; strapping a 
 buckle here, and taking in a link there, that the chaise was ready in a 
 much shorter time than could reasonably have been expected, under so 
 many difficulties. 
 
 They resumed their journey ; and certainly the prospect before them 
 was by no means encouraging. The stage was fifteen miles long, the 
 night was dark, the wind high, and the rain pouring in torrents. It was 
 impossible to make any great way against such obstacles united : it 
 was hard upon one o'clock already ; and nearly two hours were consumed 
 in getting to the end of the stage. Here, however, an object presented 
 itself, which re-kindled their hopes, and re-animated their drooping 
 spirits. 
 
 " When did this chaise come in ? " cried old Wardle, leaping out of 
 his own vehicle, and pointing to one covered with wet mud, which was 
 standing in the yard. 
 
 " Not a quarter of an hour ago, Sir ;" replied the hostler, to whom 
 the question was addressed. 
 
 " Lady and gentleman?" inquired Wardle, almost breathless with 
 impatience. 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 ' Tall gentleman dress coat long legs thin body ? " 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 Elderly lady thin face rather skinny eh? " 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 By Heavens, it's them, Pickwick," exclaimed the old gentleman. 
 Would have been here before," said the hostler, " but they broke 
 a trace." 
 
 " 'Tis them," said Wardle, " it is, by Jove ! Chaise and four in- 
 stantly. We shall catch them yet, before they reach the next stage. 
 A guinea a-piece, boys be alive there bustle about there's good 
 fellows." 
 
 And with such admonitions as these, the old gentleman ran up and 
 down the yard, and bustled to and fro, in a state of excitement which 
 communicated itself to Mr. Pickwick also ; and under the influence of 
 which, that gentleman got himself into complicated entanglements with 
 harness, and mixed up with horses and wheels of chaises, in the most 
 surprising manner, firmly believing that by so doing, he was materially 
 forwarding the preparations for their resuming their journey. 
 
 " Jump in jump in ! " cried old Wardle, climbing into the chaise, 
 pulling up the steps, and slamming the door after him. " Come along, 
 make haste." And before Mr. Pickwick knew precisely what he was
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 about, he felt himself forced in at the other door, by one pull from the 
 old gentleman, and one push from the hostler ; and off they were again. 
 
 " Ah ! we are moving- now," said the old gentleman exultingly. 
 They were indeed, as was sufficiently testified to Mr. Pickwick, by his 
 constant collisions either with the hard wood-work of the chaise, or the 
 body of his companion. 
 
 11 Hold up ! " said the stout old Mr. Wardle, as Mr. Pickwick dived 
 head foremost into his capacious waistcoat. 
 
 " I never did feel such a jolting in my life," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Never mind," replied his companion, " it '11 soon be over. Steady, 
 steady." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick planted himself into his own corner, as firmly as he 
 could ; and on whirled the chaise faster than ever. 
 
 They had travelled in this way about three miles, when Mr. Wardle, 
 who had been looking out of the window for two or three minutes, 
 suddenly drew in his face, covered with splashes, and exclaimed in 
 breathless eagerness 
 
 " Here they are ! " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick thrust his head out of his window. Yes : there was a 
 chaise and four, a short distance before them, dashing along at full 
 
 Jo on, go on," almost shrieked the old gentleman. " Two guineas 
 a-piece, boys don't let 'em gain on us keep it up keep it up." 
 
 The horses in the first chaise started on at their utmost speed ; and 
 those in Mr. Wardle's galloped furiously behind them. 
 
 " I see his head," exclaimed the choleric old man, " Damme, I see 
 his head." 
 
 So do I," said Mr. Pickwick, that's he." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was not mistaken. The countenance of Mr. Jingle, 
 completely coated with the mud thrown up by the wheels, was plainly 
 discernible at the window of his chaise ; and the motion of his arm, 
 which he was waving violently towards the postilions, denoted that he 
 was encouraging them to increased exertion. 
 
 The interest was intense. Fields, trees, and hedges, seemed to rush 
 past them with the velocity of a whirlwind, so rapid was the pace at 
 which they tore along. They were close by the side of the first chaise. 
 Jingle's voice could be plainly heard, even above the din of the wheels, 
 urging on the boys. Old Mr. Wardle foamed with rage and excite- 
 ment. He roared out scoundrels and villains by the dozen, clenched 
 his fist and shook it expressively at the object of his indignation ; but 
 Mr. Jingle only answered with a contemptuous smile, and replied to his 
 menaces by a shout of triumph, as his horses, answering the increased 
 application of whip and spur, broke into a faster gallop, and left the 
 pursuers behind. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had just drawn in his head, and Mr. Wardle, exhausted 
 with shouting, had done the same, when a tremendous jolt threw them 
 forward against the front of the vehicle. There was a sudden bump a 
 loud crash away rolled a wheel, and over went the chaise. 
 
 After a very few seconds of bewilderment and confusion, in which

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 89 
 
 nothing- but the plunging of horses, and breaking of glass, could be 
 made out, Mr. Pickwick felt himself violently pulled out from among 
 the ruins of the chaise ; and as soon as he had gained his feet, and 
 extricated his head from the skirts of his great coat which materially 
 impeded the usefulness of his spectacles, the full disaster of the case 
 met his view. 
 
 Old Mr. Wardle without a hat, and his clothes torn in several places, 
 stood by his side, and the fragments of the chaise lay scattered at their 
 feet. The post-boys, who had succeeded in cutting the traces, were 
 standing, disfigured with mud and disordered by hard riding, by the 
 horses' heads. About a hundred yards in advance was the other chaise, 
 which had pulled up on hearing the crash. The postillions, each with a 
 broad grin convulsing his countenance, were viewing the adverse party 
 from their saddles, and Mr. Jingle was contemplating the wreck from the 
 coach-window, with evident satisfaction. The day was just breaking, 
 and the whole scene was rendered perfectly visible by the grey light of 
 the morning. 
 
 "Hallo!" shouted the shameless Jingle, "any body damaged? 
 elderly gentlemen no light weights dangerous work very." 
 
 " You're a rascal ! " roared Wardle. 
 
 " Ha! ha!" replied Jingle; and then he added, with a knowing 
 wink, and a jerk of the thumb towards the interior of the chaise " I 
 say she's very well desires her compliments begs you won't trouble 
 yourself love to Tuppy won't you get up behind ? drive on boys." 
 
 The postilions resumed their proper attitudes, and away rattled the 
 chaise, Mr, Jingle fluttering in derision a white handkerchief from the 
 coach window. 
 
 Nothing in the whole adventure, not even the upset, had disturbed 
 . the calm and equable current of Mr. Pickwick's temper. The villany 
 however, which could first borrow money of his faithful follower, and 
 then abbreviate his name to " Tuppy," was more than he could patiently 
 bear. He drew his breath hard, and coloured up to the very tips of his 
 spectacles, as he said, slowly and emphatically 
 
 " If ever I meet that man again, I'll " 
 
 " Yes, yes," interrupted Wardle, " that's all very well : but while we 
 stand talking here, they'll get their licence, and be married in London." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick paused, bottled up his vengeance, and corked it down. 
 
 " How far is it to the next stage ? " inquired Mr. Wardle, of one of 
 the boys. 
 
 " Six mile, a'nt it, Tom? " 
 
 " Rayther better." 
 
 " Rayther better nor six mile, Sir." 
 
 M Can't be helped," said Wardle, " we must walk it, Pickwick." 
 
 " No help for it," replied that truly great man. 
 
 So sending forward one of the boys on horseback, to procure a fresh 
 chaise and horses, and leaving the other behind to take care of the 
 broken one, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Wardle set manfully forward on the 
 walk, first tying their shawls round their necks, and slouching down 
 their hats to escape as much as possible from the deluge of rain, which 
 after a slight cessation, had again begun to pour heavily down.
 
 90 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CLEARING UP ALL DOUBTS (iF ANY EXISTED) OF THE DISINTER- 
 ESTEDNESS OF MR. JINGLE'S CHARACTER. 
 
 THERE are in London several old inns, once the head quarters of 
 celebrated coaches in the days when coaches performed their journeys 
 in a graver and more solemn manner than they do in these times ; but 
 which have now degenerated into little more than the abiding and 
 hooking places of country wagons. The reader would look in vain 
 for any of these ancient hostelries, among the Golden Crosses and Bull 
 and Mouths, which rear their stately fronts in the improved streets of 
 London. If he would light upon any of these old places, he must direct 
 his steps to the obscurer quarters of the town ; and there in some 
 secluded nooks he will find several, still standing with a kind of gloomy 
 sturdiness, amidst the modern innovations which surround them. 
 
 In the Borough especially, there still remain some half dozen old 
 inns, which have preserved their external features unchanged, and which 
 have escaped alike the rage for public improvement, and the encroach- 
 ments of private speculation. Great, rambling, queer, old places they 
 are, with galleries, and passages, and stair-cases, wide enough and anti- 
 quated enough, to furnish materials for a hundred ghost stories, supposing 
 we should ever be reduced to the lamentable necessity of inventing any, 
 and that the world should exist long enough to exhaust the innumer- 
 able veracious legends connected with old London Bridge, and its adja- 
 cent neighbourhood on the Surrey side. 
 
 It was in the yard of one of these inns of no less celebrated a one 
 than the White Hart that a man was busily employed in brushing the 
 dirt off a pair of boots, early on the morning succeeding the events 
 narrated in the last chapter. He was habited in a coarse-striped waist- 
 coat, with black calico sleeves, and blue glass buttons : drab breeches 
 and leggings. A bright red handkerchief was wound in a very loose and 
 unstudied style round his neck, and an old white hat was carelessly 
 thrown on one side of his head. There were two rows of boots before 
 him, one cleaned and the other dirty, and at every addition he made to 
 the clean row, he paused from his work, and contemplated its results 
 with evident satisfaction. 
 
 The yard presented none of that bustle and activity which are the 
 usual characteristics of a large coach inn. Three or four lumbering 
 wagons, each with a pile of goods beneath its ample canopy, about the 
 height of the second-floor window of an ordinary house, were stowed 
 away beneath a lofty roof which extended over one end of the yard ; 
 and another, which was probably to commence its journey that morning, 
 was drawn out into the open space. A double tier of bed-room gal-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 91 
 
 leries, with old clumsy balustrades, ran round two sides of the straggling 
 area, and a double row of bells to correspond, sheltered from the wea- 
 ther by a little sloping roof, hung over the door leading to the bar and 
 coffee-room. Two or three gigs and chaise-carts were wheeled up 
 under different little sheds and pent-houses ; and the occasional heavy 
 tread of a cart-horse, or rattling of a chain at the further end of the 
 yard, announced to any body who cared about the matter, that the 
 stable lay in that direction. When we add that a few boys in smock 
 frocks, were lying asleep on heavy packages, woolpacks, and other 
 articles that were scattered about on heaps of straw, we have described 
 as fully as need be, the general appearance of the yard of the White 
 Hart Inn, High Street, Borough, on the particular morning in 
 question. 
 
 A loud ringing of one of the bells, was followed by the appearance 
 of a smart chambermaid in the upper sleeping gallery, who, after tap- 
 ping at one of the doors, and receiving a request from within, called over 
 the balustrades. 
 
 " Sam ! " 
 
 " Hallo," replied the man with the white hat. 
 
 " Number twenty-two wants his boots." 
 
 " Ask number twenty-two, vether he'll have 'em now, or vait till 
 he gets 'em," was the reply. 
 
 " Come, don't be a fool, Sam," said the girl, coaxingly, '' the gentle- 
 man wants his boots directly." 
 
 " Well, you are a nice young 'ooman for a musical party, you are," 
 said the boot-cleaner. "Look at these here boots eleven pair o' 
 boots ; and one shoe as b'longs to number six, with the wooden leg. 
 The eleven boots is to be called at half-past eight and the shoe at nine. 
 Who's number twenty-two, that's to put all the others out ? No, no ; 
 reg'lar rotation, as Jack Ketch said, ven he tied the men up. Sorry to 
 keep you a watin', Sir, but I'll attend to you directly." 
 
 Saying which, the man in the white hat set to work upon a top-boot 
 with increased assiduity. 
 
 There was another loud ring ; and the bustling old landlady of the 
 W T hite Hart made her appearance in the opposite gallery. 
 
 " Sam," cried the landlady, "where's that lazy, idle why Sam 
 oh, there you are ; why don't you answer ? " 
 
 " Vouldn't be gen-teel to answer, 'till you'd done talking," replied 
 Sam, gruffly. 
 
 " Here, clean them shoes for number seventeen directly, and take 
 'em to private sitting-room, number five, first floor." 
 
 The landlady flung a pair of lady's shoes into the yard, and bustled 
 away. 
 
 " Number 5," said Sam, as he picked up the shoes, and taking a 
 piece of chalk from his pocket, made a memorandum of their destina- 
 tion on the soles " Lady's shoes and private sittin' room I I suppose 
 she didn't come in the vaggin." 
 
 " She came in early this morning," cried the girl, who was still lean- 
 ing over the railing of the gallery, " with a gentleman in a hackney-
 
 92 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 coach, and it's him as wants his boots, and you'd better do 'em, and 
 that's all about it." 
 
 " Vy didn't you say so before," said Sam, with great indignation, 
 singling out the boots in question from the heap before him. " For all 
 I know'd he vas one o' the regular three-pennies. Private room ! and 
 a lady too! If he's anything of agen'lm'n, he's vurth a shillin' a day, 
 let alone the arrands." 
 
 Stimulated by this inspiring reflection, Mr. Samuel brushed away 
 with such hearty good will, that in a few minutes the boots and shoes, 
 with a polish which would have struck envy to the soul of the amiable 
 Mr. Warren, (for they used Day and Martin at the White Hart) had 
 arrived at the door of number five. 
 
 " Come in," said a man's voice, in reply to Sam's rap at the door. 
 
 Sam made his best bow, and stepped into the presence of a lady and 
 gentleman seated at breakfast. Having officiously deposited the gen- 
 tleman's boots right and left at his feet, and the lady's shoes right and 
 left at hers, he backed towards the door. 
 
 " Boots," said the gentleman. 
 
 " Sir," said Sam, closing the door, and keeping his hand on the 
 knob of the lock. 
 
 " Do you know what's a-name Doctors' Commons ? " 
 
 " Yes Sir." 
 
 " Where is it ? " 
 
 " Paul's Church-yard, Sir ; low archway on the carriage-side, book- 
 seller's at one corner, hot-el on the other, and two porters in the mid- 
 dle as touts for licences." 
 
 " Touts for licences ! " said the gentleman. 
 
 " Touts for licences," replied Sam. "Two coves in vhite aprons 
 touches their hats ven you walk in ' Licence, Sir, licence ? ' Queer 
 sort, them, and their mas'rs too, Sir Old Bailey Proctors-^and no 
 mistake." 
 
 " \Vhat do they do ? " inquired the gentleman. 
 
 " Do ! You, Sir ! That an't the worst on it, neither. They puts 
 things into old gen'lm'ns heads as they never dreamed of. My father, 
 Sir, vos a coachman. A vidower he vos, and fat enough for anything 
 uncommon fat, to be sure. His missus dies, and leaves him four 
 hundred pound. Down he goes to the Commons, to see the lawyer and 
 draw the blunt wery smart top boots on nosegay in his button- 
 hole broad-brimmed tile green shawl quite the gen'lm'n. Goes 
 through the archvay, thinking how he should inwest the money up 
 comes the touter, touches his hat Licence, Sir, licence ? ' ' What's 
 that ? ' says my father. ' Licence, Sir,' says he. ' What licence ? ' 
 says my father. ' Marriage licence,' says the touter. ' Dash 1 my ves- 
 kit,' says my father, ' I never thought o' that.' ' I think you wants 
 one, Sir,' says the touter. My father pulls up, and thinks a bit ' No,' 
 says he, ' damme, I'm too old, b'sides I'm a many sizes too large,' says 
 he. ' Not a bit on it, Sir,' says the touter. Think not ? ' says my 
 father < I'm sure not, says he; 'we married a gen'lm'n twice your 
 size, last Monday.' ' Did you, though,' says my father. ' To be sure,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 93 
 
 ve did,' says the touter, ' you're a babby to him this vay, Sir this 
 vay ! ' and sure enough my father walks arter him, like a tame monkey 
 behind a horgan, into a little back office, vere a feller sat among- dirty 
 papers and tin boxes, making believe he was busy. ' Pray take a seat, 
 vile I makes out the affidavit, Sir,' says the lawyer. ' Thankee, Sir,' 
 says my father, and down he sat, and stared vith all his eyes, and his 
 mouth vide open, at the names on the boxes. ' What's your name, 
 Sir,' says the lawyer.' ' Tony Weller,' says my father. ' Parish ? ' 
 says the lawyer. ' Belle Savage,' says my father ; for he stopped there 
 ven he drove up, and he know'd nothing about parishes, he didn't. 
 ' And what's the lady's name ? ' says the lawyer. My father was struck 
 all of a heap. ' Blessed if I know,' says he. < Not know ! ' says the 
 lawyer. ' No more nor you do,' says my father, ' can't I put that in 
 arterwards ? ' ' Impossible I ' says the lawyer. ' Wery well,' says 
 my father, after he'd thought a moment, 'put down Mrs. Clarke.' 
 ' What Clarke ? ' says the lawyer, dipping his pen in the ink. ' Susan 
 Clarke, Markis o' Granby, Dorking,' says my father ; < she'll have me, 
 if I ask her, I des-say I never said nothing to her, but she'll have me, 
 I know.' The licence was made out, and she did have him, and what's 
 more she's got him now ; and / never had any of the four hundred 
 pound, worse luck. Beg your pardon, Sir," said Sam, when he had 
 concluded, " but vhen I gets on this here grievance, I runs on like a 
 new barrow vith the vheel greased." Having said which, and having 
 paused for an instant to see whether he was wanted for any thing more, 
 Sam left the room. 
 
 " Half-past nine just the time off at once ;" said the gentleman, 
 whom we need hardly introduce as Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " Time for what ? " said the spinster aunt, coquettishly. 
 
 " Licence, dearest of angels give notice at the church call you 
 mine, to-morrow" said Mr. Jingle, and he squeezed the spinster 
 aunt's hand. 
 
 " The licence ! " said Rachael, blushing. 
 
 " The licence," repeated Mr. Jingle 
 
 " In hurry, post-haste for a licence, 
 In hurry, ding dong I come back." 
 
 " How you run on," said Rachael. 
 
 " Run on nothing to the hours, days, weeks, months, years, when 
 we're united run on they'll fly on bolt mizzle steam-engine- 
 thousand- horse power nothing to it." 
 
 " Can't can't we be married before to-morrow morning ? " inquired 
 Rachael. 
 
 " Impossible can't be notice at the church leave the licence to- 
 day ceremony come off to-morrow." 
 
 " I am so terrified, lest my brother should discover us ! " said 
 Rachael. 
 
 " Discover nonsense too much shaken by the break down 
 besides extreme caution gave up the post-chaise walked on took
 
 94 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 a hackney-coach came to the Borough last place in the world that 
 he'd look in ha ! ha ! capital notion that very." 
 
 " Don't be long," said the spinster, affectionately, as Mr. Jinele 
 stuck the pinched up hat on his head. 
 
 " Long away from you ? Cruel charmer/' and Mr. Jingle skipped 
 playfully up to the spinster aunt, imprinted a chaste kiss upon her lips, 
 and danced out of the room. 
 
 " Dear man ! " said the spinster, as the door closed after him. 
 
 *' Rum old girl," said Mr. Jingle, as he walked down the passage. 
 
 It is painful to reflect upon the perfidy of our species ; and we will 
 not therefore, pursue the thread of Mr. Jingle's meditations, as he 
 wended his way to Doctors' Commons. It will be sufficient for our 
 purpose to relate> that escaping the snares of the dragons in white 
 aprons, who guard the entrance to that enchanted region, he reached 
 the Vicar General's office in safety, and having procured a highly flat- 
 tering address on parchment, from the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 to his " trusty and well-beloved Alfred Jingle and Rachael Wardle, 
 greeting," he carefully deposited the mystic document in his pocket, and 
 retraced his steps in triumph to the Borough. 
 
 He was yet on his way to the White Hart, when two plump gentle- 
 men and one thin one, entered the yard, and leaked round in search of 
 some authorised person of whom they could make a few inquiries. Mr. 
 Samuel Weller happened to be at that moment engaged in burnishing 
 a pair of painted tops, the personal property of a farmer, who was 
 refreshing himself with a slight lunch of two or three pounds of cold 
 beef and a pot or two of porter, after the fatigues of the Borough 
 market ; and to him the thin gentleman straightway advanced 
 
 " My friend," said the thin gentleman. 
 
 " You're one o' the adwice gratis order," thought Sam, " or you 
 wouldn't be so werry fond o' me all at once." But he only said 
 Well Sir." 
 
 " My friend," said the thin gentleman, with a conciliatory hem 
 " Have you got many people stopping here, now? Pretty busy. 
 Eh?" 
 
 Sam stole a look at the inquirer. He was a little high-dried man, 
 with a dark squeezed up face, and small restless black eyes, that kept 
 winking and twinkling on each side of his little inquisitive nose, as if 
 they were playing a perpetual game of peep-bo with that feature. He 
 was dressed all in black, with boots as shiny as his eyes, a low white 
 neckcloth, and a clean shirt with a frill to it. A gold watch-chain, and 
 seals, depended from his fob. He carried his black kid gloves in his 
 hands, not on them ; and as he spoke, thrust his wrists beneath his 
 coat-tails, with the air of a man who was in the habit of propounding 
 some regular posers. 
 
 " Pretty busy, eh ? " said the little man. 
 
 " Oh, werry well, Sir," replied Sam, " we shan't be bankrupts, and 
 we shan't make our fort'ns. We eats our biled mutton without capers, 
 and don't care for horse-radish ven ve can get beef." 
 
 " Ah," said the little man, " you're a wag. a'nt you ? "
 
 
 J 


 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 95 
 
 " My eldest brother was troubled with that complaint," said Sam 
 " it may be catching- I used to sleep with him." 
 
 " This is a curious old house of yours," said the little man, looking 
 round him. 
 
 " If you'd sent word you was a coming 1 , we'd ha' had it repaired ;" 
 replied the imperturbable Sam. 
 
 The little man seemed rather baffled by these several repulses, and a 
 short consultation took place between him and the two plump gentle- 
 men. At its conclusion, the little man took a pinch of snuff from an 
 oblong silver box, and was apparently on the point of renewing the 
 conversation, when one of the plump gentlemen, who in addition to a 
 benevolent countenance, possessed a pair of spectacles, and a pair of 
 black gaiters, interfered 
 
 " The fact of the matter is," said the benevolent gentleman, " that 
 my friend here (pointing to the other plump gentleman,) will give you 
 half a guinea, if you'll answer one or two " 
 
 " Now, my dear Sir my dear Sir," said the little man, " pray allow 
 me my dear Sir, the very first principle to be observed in these cases, 
 is this ; if you place a matter in the hands of a professional man, you 
 must in no way interfere in the progress of the business ; you must 
 repose implicit confidence in him. Really, Mr. (he turned to the other 
 plump gentleman, and said) I forget your friend's name." 
 
 " Pickwick," said Mr. Wardle, for it was no other than that jolly 
 personage. 
 
 " Ah, Pickwick really Mr. Pickwick, my dear Sir, excuse me I 
 shall be happy to receive any private suggestions of yours, as amicus 
 curias, but you must see the impropriety of your interfering with my 
 conduct in this case, with such an ad captandum argument, as the offer 
 of half a guinea. Really, my dear Sir, really," and the little man took 
 an argumentative pinch of snuff, and looked very profound. 
 
 " My only wish, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " was to bring this very 
 unpleasant matter to as speedy a close as possible." 
 
 " Quite right quite right," said the little man. 
 
 " With which view," continued Mr. Pickwick, " I made use of the 
 argument which my experience of men has taught me is the most 
 likely to succeed in any case," 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the little man, " very good, very good, indeed ; but 
 you should have suggested it to me. My dear Sir, I'm quite certain 
 you cannot be ignorant of the extent of confidence which must be 
 placed in professional men. If any authority can be necessary on such 
 a puint, my dear Sir, let me refer you to the well-known case in Barn- 
 well and " 
 
 " Never mind George Barnvell," interrupted Sam, who had remained 
 a wondering listener during this short colloquy ; " every body knows 
 vhat sort of a case his was, tho' it's always been my opinion, mind you, 
 that the young 'ooman deserved scragging a precious sight more than 
 he did. Hows'ever, that's neither here nor there. You want me to 
 except of half a guinea. Werry well, I'm agreeable : I can't say no 
 fairer than that, can I, Sir ? (Mr. Pickwick smiled.) Then the next
 
 96 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 question is, what the devil do you want with me, as the man said ven 
 he seed the ghost ? " 
 
 " We want to know" said Mr. Wardle. 
 
 " Now my dear Sir my dear Sir," interposed the busy little man. 
 
 Mr. Wardle shrugged his shoulders, and was silent. 
 
 " We want to know," said the little man, solemnly ; " and we ask the 
 question of you, in order that we may not awaken apprehensions inside 
 we want to know who you've got in this house, at present." 
 
 " Who there is in the house ! " said Sam, in whose mind the inmates 
 were always represented by that particular article of their costume, 
 which came under his immediate superintendence. " There's a vooden 
 leg in number six, there's a pair of Hessians in thirteen, there's two 
 pair of halves in the commercial, there's these here painted tops in the 
 snuggery inside the bar, and five more tops in the coffee-room." 
 
 " Nothing more ? " said the little man. 
 
 " Stop a bit," replied Sam, suddenly recollecting himself. " Yes ; 
 there's a pair of Vellingtons a good deal vorn, and a pair o' lady's shoes, 
 in number five." 
 
 " What sort of shoes ? " hastily inquired Wardle, who, together with 
 Mr. Pickwick, had been lost inbewilderment at the singular catalogu e 
 of visitors. 
 
 " Country make," replied Sam. 
 
 " Any maker's name ? " 
 
 " Brown." 
 
 W T here of? " 
 
 " Muggleton." 
 
 " It is them," exclaimed Wardle. " By Heavens, we've found 
 them." 
 
 " Hush I" said Sam. " The Vellingtons has gone to Doctors' Com- 
 mons. 
 
 " No," said the little man. 
 
 " Yes, for a licence." 
 
 " We're in time," exclaimed Wardle. " Show us the room; not a 
 moment is to be lost." 
 
 " Pray, my dear Sir pray," said the little man ; " caution, caution." 
 He drew from his pocket a red silk purse, and looked very hard at Sam 
 as he drew out a sovereign. 
 
 Sam grinned expressively. 
 
 " Show us into the room at once, without announcing us," said the 
 little man, " and it's yours." 
 
 Sam threw the painted tops into a corner, and led the way through 
 a dark passage, and up a wide staircase. He paused at the end of a 
 second passage, and held out his hand. 
 
 " Here it is," whispered the attorney, as he deposited the money in 
 the hand of their guide. 
 
 The man stepped forward for a few paces, followed by the two friends 
 and their legal adviser. He stopped at a door. 
 
 " Is this the room ? " murmured the little gentleman. 
 
 Sam nodded assent.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 97 
 
 Old Wardle opened the door ; and the whole three walked into the 
 room just as Mr. Jingle, who had that moment returned, had produced 
 the licence to the spinster aunt. 
 
 The spinster uttered a loud shriek, and, throwing herself in a chair, 
 covered her face with her hands. Mr. Jingle crumpled up the licence, 
 and thrust it into his coat-pocket. The unwelcome visitors advanced 
 into the middle of the room. 
 
 " You you are a nice rascal, ar'n't you ? " exclaimed Wardle, breath- 
 less with passion. 
 
 " My dear Sir, my dear Sir," said the little man, laying his hat on 
 the table. " Pray, consider pray. Scandalum magnatum, defama- 
 tion of character, action for damages. Calm yourself, my dear Sir, 
 pray " 
 
 " How dare you drag my sister from my house ? " said the old man. 
 
 " Ay ay very good," said the little gentleman, " you may ask 
 that. How dare you, Sir ? eh, Sir ? " 
 
 ' Who the devil are you ? " inquired Mr. Jingle, in so fierce a tone, 
 that the little gentleman involuntarily fell back a step or two. 
 
 " Who is he, you scoundrel," interposed Wardle. " He's my lawyer, 
 Mr. Perker, of Gray's inn. Perker, I'll have this fellow prosecuted 
 indicted I'll I'll damme, I'll ruin him. And you," continued Mr. 
 Wardle turning abruptly round to his sister, " you Rachael, at a time 
 of life when you ought to know better, what do you mean by running 
 away with a vagabond, disgracing your family, and making yourself 
 miserable. Get on your bonnet, and come back. Call a hackney-coach 
 there, directly, and bring this lady's bill, d'ye hear d'ye hear ? " 
 
 "' Cert'nly, Sir," replied Sam, who had answered Wardle's violent 
 ringing of the bell with a degree of celerity, which must have appeared 
 marvellous to any body who didn't know that his eye had been applied 
 to the outside of the key-hole during the whole interview. 
 
 " Get on your bonnet," repeated Wardle. 
 
 " Do nothing of the kind," said Jingle. " Leave the room, Sir no 
 business here lady's free to act as she pleases more than one-and- 
 twenty." 
 
 tc More than one-and twenty ! " ejaculated Wardle, contemptuously. 
 " More than one-and-forty ! " 
 
 ic I a'nt," said the spinster aunt, her indignation getting the better of 
 her determination to faint. 
 
 " You are," replied Wardle, " you're fifty if you're an hour." 
 
 Here the spinster aunt uttered a loud shriek, and became senseless. 
 
 " A glass of water," said the humane Mr. Pickwick, summoning the 
 landlady. 
 
 " A glass of water ! " said the passionate Wardle. " Bring a bucket, 
 and throw it all over her ; it'll do her good, and she richly deserves it.' ' 
 
 " Ugh, you brute ! " ejaculated the kind-hearted landlady. " Poor 
 dear." And with sundry ejaculations, of " Come now, there's a dear 
 drink a little of this it'll do you good don't give way so there's a 
 love," &c. &c. the landlady, assisted by a chambermaid, proceeded to 
 vinegar the forehead, beat the hands, titillate the nose, and unlace the
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 stays of the spinster aunt, and to administer such other restoratives 
 as are usually applied by compassionate females to ladies who are endea- 
 vouding to ferment themselves into hysterics. 
 
 " Coach is ready, Sir," said Sam, appearing at the door. 
 \ " Come along," cried Wardle. " I'll carry her down stairs." 
 
 At this proposition, the hysterics came on with redoubled violence. 
 
 The landlady was about to enter a very violent protest against this 
 proceeding, and had already given vent to an indignant inquiry whether 
 Mr. Wardle considered himself a lord of the creation, when Mr, Jingle 
 interposed 
 
 " Boots," said he, " get me an officer." 
 
 " Stay, stay," said little Mr. Perker. " Consider, Sir, consider." 
 
 " I'll not consider," replied Jingle, " she's her own mistress see 
 who dares to take her away unless she wishes it." 
 
 " I wont be taken away," murmured the spinster aunt. " I dont 
 wish it." (Here there was a frightful relapse.) 
 
 " My dear Sir," said the little man, in a low tone, taking Mr. War- 
 dle and Mr. Pickwick apart : " My dear Sir, we're in a very awkward 
 situation. It's a distressing case very; I never knew one more so; 
 but really, my dear Sir, really we have no power to controul this lady's 
 actions. I warned you before we came, my dear Sir, that there was 
 nothing to look to but a compromise." 
 
 There was a short pause. 
 
 " What kind of compromise would you recommend ? " inquired Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Why, my dear Sir, our friend's in an unpleasant position very 
 much so. We must be content to suffer some pecuniary loss." 
 
 " I'll suffer any, rather than submit to this disgrace, and let her, fool 
 as she is, be made miserable for life," said Wardle. 
 
 ' I rather think it can be done," said the bustling little man. Mr. 
 Jingle, will you step with us into the next room for a moment? " 
 
 Mr. Jingle assented, and the quartette walked into an empty apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " Now Sir," said the little man, as he carefully closed the door, " is 
 there no way of accommodating this matter step this way Sir, for a 
 moment into this window, Sir, where we can be alone there, Sir, 
 there, pray sit down, Sir. Now, my dear Sir, between you and I, we 
 know very well, my dear Sir, that you have run off with this lady for 
 the sake of her money. Don't frown, Sir, don't frown ; I say, between 
 you and I, we know it. We are both men of the world, and we know- 
 very well that our friends here, are not eh ? " 
 
 Mr. Jingle's face gradually relaxed ; and something distantly resem- 
 bling a wink, quivered for an instant in his left eye. 
 
 " Very good, very good," said the little man, observing the impres- 
 sion he had made. " Now the fact is, that beyond a few hundreds, the 
 lady has little or nothing till the death of her mother fine old lady, 
 my dear Sir." 
 
 " O/J,'"said Mr. Jingle, briefly but emphatically. 
 
 " Why, yes," said the attorney, with a slight cough. " You are
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 99 
 
 right, ray dear Sir, she is rather old. She comes of an old family 
 though, my dear Sir ; old in every sense of the word. The founder of 
 that family came into Kent, when Julius Caesar invaded Britain ; Ally 
 one member of it, since, who hasn't lived to eighty-five, and he was 
 beheaded by one of the Henrys. The old lady is not seventy-three 
 now, my dear Sir." The little man paused, and took a pinch of snuff. 
 
 " Well," cried Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " Well, my dear Sir you don't take snuff? ah ! so much the better 
 expensive habit well, my dear Sir, you're a fine young man, man of 
 the world able to push your fortune, if you had capital, eh ? " 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Jingle again. 
 
 " Do you comprehend me ? " 
 
 " Not quite." 
 
 " Don't you think now, my dear Sir, I put it to you, don't you 
 think that" fifty pounds and liberty, would be better than Miss Wardle 
 and expectation ? " 
 
 " Won't do not half enough ! " said Mr. Jingle, rising. 
 
 " Nay, nay, my dear Sir," remonstrated the little attorney, seizing 
 him by the button. " Good round sum a man like you could treble 
 it in no time great deal to be done with fifty pounds, my dear Sir." 
 
 " More to be done with a hundred and fifty," replied Mr. Jingle, 
 coolly. 
 
 " Well, my dear Sir, we won't waste time in splitting straws," resumed 
 the little man, "say say seventy." 
 
 " Won't do," said Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " Don't go away, my dear Sir pray don't hurry," said the little 
 man. ' ; Eighty ; come : I'll write you a cheque at once." 
 
 " Won't do," said Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " Well, my dear Sir, well," said the little man, still detaining him; 
 "just tell me what will do." 
 
 " Expensive affair," said Mr. Jingle. " Money out of pocket 
 posting, nine pounds ; licence, three that's twelve compensation, a 
 hundred hundred and twelve Breach of honour- and loss of the 
 lady" 
 
 " Yes, my dear Sir, yes," said the little man, with a knowing look, 
 " never mind the last two items. That's a hundred and twelve say a 
 hundred come." 
 
 " And twenty," said Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " Come, come, I'll write you a cheque," said the little man ; and 
 down he sat at the table for that purpose. 
 
 " I'll make it payable the day after to-morrow," said the little man, 
 with a look towards Mr. Wardle ; " and we can get the lady away, 
 meanwhile." Mr. Wardle sullenly nodded assent. 
 
 " A hundred," said the little man. 
 
 " And twenty," said Mr. Jingle. 
 
 " My dear Sir," remonstrated the little man. 
 
 " Give it him," interposed Mr. Wardle, " and let him go." 
 
 The cheque was written by the little gentleman, and pocketed by 
 
 [r. Jingle. 
 
 L
 
 100 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Now, leave this house instantly ! "said Wardle, starting up. 
 
 " My dear Sir," urged the little man. 
 
 " And mind," said Mr. Wardle, " that nothing should have induced 
 me to make this compromise not even a regard for my family if I 
 had not known, that the moment you got any money in that pocket of 
 yours, you'd go to the devil faster, if possible, than you would without 
 it" 
 
 " My dear Sir," urged the little man again. 
 
 " Be quiet, Perker," resumed Wardle. " Leave the room, Sir." 
 
 " Off directly," said the unabashed Jingle. " Bye bye Pickwick." 
 
 If any dispassionate spectator could have beheld the countenance of 
 the illustrious man, whose name forms the leading feature of the title 
 of this work, during the latter part of this conversation, he would have 
 been almost induced to wonder that the indignant fire which flashed 
 from his eyes, did not melt the glasses of his spectacles so majestic 
 was his wrath. His nostrils dilated, and his fists clenched in voluntarily, 
 as he heard himself addressed by the villain. But he restrained him- 
 self again he did not pulverise him. 
 
 " Here,'' continued the hardened traitor, tossing the licence at Mr. 
 Pickwick's feet ; " get the name altered take home the lady do for 
 Tuppy." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was a philosopher, but philosophers are only men in 
 armour, after all. The shaft had reached him, penetrated through his 
 philosophical harness, to his very heart. In the frenzy of his rage, he 
 hurled the inkstand madly forward, and followed it up himself. But 
 Mr. Jingle had disappeared, and he found himself caught in the arms 
 of Sam. 
 
 " Hallo," said that eccentric functionary, " furniter's cheap vere you 
 come from. Self-acting ink, that 'ere ; it's wrote your mark upon the 
 wall, old gen'lm'n. Hold still, Sir : wot's the use o' runnin' arter a 
 man as has made his lucky, and got to t' other end of the Borough 
 by this time." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's mind, like those of all truly great men, was open to 
 conviction. He was a quick, and powerful reasoner ; and a moment's 
 reflection sufficed to remind him of the impotency of his rage. It sub- 
 sided as quickly as it had been roused. He panted for breath, and looked 
 benignantly round upon his friends. 
 
 Shall we tell the lamentations that ensued, when Miss Wardle found 
 herself deserted by the faithless Jingle ? Shall we extract Mr. Pick- 
 wick's masterly description of that heart-rending scene ? His note- 
 book, blotted with the tears of sympathising humanity, lies open before 
 us ; one word, and it is in the printer's hands. But, no ! we will be 
 resolute ! We will not wring the public bosom, with the delineation 
 of such suffering ! 
 
 Slowly and sadly did the two friends and the deserted lady, return 
 next day in the Muggleton heavy coach. Dimly and darkly had the 
 sombre shadows of a summer's night fallen upon all around, when they 
 again reached Dingley Dell, and stood within the entrance to Manor 
 Farm.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 101 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 INVOLVING ANOTHER JOURNEY, AND AN ANTIQUARIAN DISCOVERY. 
 RECORDING MR. PICKWICK'S DETERMINATION TO BE PRESENT 
 AT AN ELECTION; AND CONTAINING A MANUSCRIPT OF THE OLD 
 CLERGYMAN'S. 
 
 A NIGHT of quiet and repose in the profound silence of Dingley 
 Dell, and an hour's breathing of its fresh and fragrant air on the ensuing 
 morning, completely recovered Mr. Pickwick from the effects of his 
 late fatigue of body and anxiety of mind. That illustrious man had 
 been separated from his friends and followers, for two whole days ; and 
 it was with a degree of pleasure and delight, which no common imagi- 
 nation can adequately conceive, that he stepped forward to greet Mr. 
 Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass, as he encountered those gentlemen on his 
 return from his early walk. The pleasure was mutual ; for who 
 could ever gaze on Mr. Pickwick's beaming face without experiencing 
 the sensation ? But still a cloud seemed to hang over his companions 
 which that great man could not but be sensible of, and was wholly at a 
 loss to account for. There was a mysterious air about them both, as 
 unusual as it was alarming. 
 
 " And how," said Mr. Pickwick, when he had grasped his followers 
 by the hand, and exchanged warm salutations of welcome ; " how is 
 Tupman ? " 
 
 Mr. Winkle, to whom the question was more peculiarly addressed, 
 made no reply. He turned away his head, and appeared absorbed in 
 melancholy reflection. 
 
 " Snodgrass," said Mr. Pickwick, earnestly, " How is our friend he 
 is not ill ? " 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Snodgrass ; and a tear trembled on his sentimental 
 eye-lid, like a rain-rlrop on a window-frame. " No; he is not ill." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick stopped, and gazed on each of his friends in turn. 
 
 " Winkle Snodgrass," said Mr. Pickwick : " what does this mean ? 
 Where is our friend ? What has happened ? Speak I conjure, I 
 entreat nay, I command you, speak." 
 
 There was a solemnity a dignity in Mr. Pickwick's manner, not 
 to be withstood. 
 
 He is gone," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 Gone! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, " Gone! '' 
 ' Gone," repeated Mr. Snodgrass. 
 Where ?" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 We can only guess, from that communication," replied Mr. Snod- 
 grass, taking a letter from his pocket, and placing it in his friend's 
 hand. " Yesterday morning, when a letter was received from Mr. 
 Wardle, stating that you would be home with his sister at night, the 
 melancholy which had hung over our friend during the whole of the 
 
 L2
 
 102 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 previous day, was observed to increase. He shortly afterwards disap- 
 peared : he was missing during the whole day, and in the evening- this 
 letter was brought by the hostler from the Crown, at Muggleton. It 
 had been left in his charge in the morning, with a strict injunction that 
 it should not be delivered until night." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick opened the epistle. It was in his friend's hand-writing, 
 and these were its contents : 
 
 My dear Pickwick, 
 
 " You, my dear friend, are placed far beyond the reach of many 
 mortal frailties and weaknesses which ordinary people cannot overcome. 
 You do not know what it is, at one blow, to be deserted by a lovely and 
 fascinating creature, and to fall a victim to the artifices of a villain, who 
 hid the grin of cunning, beneath the mask of friendship. I hope you 
 never may. 
 
 " Any letter, addressed to me at the Leather Bottle, Cobham, Kent, 
 will be forwarded supposing I still exist. I hasten from the sight of 
 that world, which has become odious to me. Should I hasten from it 
 altogether, pity forgive me. Life, my dear Pickwick, has become 
 insupportable to me. The spirit which burns within us, is a porter's 
 knot, on which to rest the heavy load of worldly cares and troubles ; 
 and when that spirit fails us, the burden is too heavy to be borne. We 
 sink beneath it. You may tell Rachael Ah, that name ! 
 
 x " TRACY TUPMAN." 
 
 " We must leave this place, directly," said Mr. Pickwick, as he re- 
 folded the note. " It would not have been decent for us to remain 
 here, under any circumstances, after what has happened ; and now we 
 are bound to follow in search of our friend." And so saying, he led the 
 way to the house. 
 
 His intention was rapidly communicated. The entreaties to remain 
 were pressing, but Mr. Pickwick was inflexible. Business, he said, 
 required his immediate attendance. 
 
 The old clergyman was present. 
 
 " You are not really going? " said he, taking Mr. Pickwick aside. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick reiterated his former determination. 
 
 " Then here," said the old gentleman, " is a little manuscript, which 
 I had hoped to have the pleasure of reading to you myself. I found it 
 on the death of a friend of mine a medical man, engaged in our County 
 Lunatic Asylum among a variety of papers, which I had the option 
 of destroying or preserving, as I thought proper. I can hardly believe 
 that the manuscript is genuine, though it certainly is not in my friend's 
 hand. However, whether it be the genuine production of a maniac, or 
 founded upon the ravings of some unhappy being, which I think more 
 probable, read it, and judge for yourself." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick received the manuscript, and parted from the benevo- 
 lent old gentleman with many expressions of good-will and esteem. 
 
 It was a more difficult task to take leave of the inmates of Manor 
 Farm, from whom they had received so much hospitality and kindness.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 103 
 
 Mr. Pickwick kissed the young ladies we were going to say, as if 
 they were his own daughters, only as he might possibly have infused 
 a little more warmth into the salutation, the comparison would not be 
 quite appropriate hugged the old lady with filial cordiality : and pat- 
 ted the rosy cheeks of the female servants in a most patriarchal manner, 
 as he slipped into the hands of each, some more substantial expressions 
 of his approval. The exchange of cordialities with their fine old host 
 and Mr. Trundle, were even more hearty and prolonged ; and it was not 
 until Mr. Snodgrass had been several times called for, and at last 
 emerged from a dark passage followed soon after by Emily (whose bright 
 eyes looked unusually dim) that the three friends were enabled to tear 
 themselves from their friendly entertainers. Many a backward look 
 they gave at the Farm, as they walked slowly away : and many a kiss 
 did Mr. Snodgrass waft in the air, in acknowledgment of something 
 very like a lady's handkerchief, which was waved from one of the upper 
 windows, until a turn of the lane hid the old house from their sight. 
 
 At Muggleton they procured a conveyance to Rochester. By the 
 time they reached the last-named place, the violence of their grief had 
 sufficiently abated to admit of their making a very excellent early din- 
 ner ; and having procured the necessary information relative to the road, 
 the three friends set forward again in the afternoon to walk to Cobham. 
 
 A delightful walk it was : for it was a pleasant afternoon in June, 
 and their way lay through a deep and shady wood, cooled by the light 
 wind which gently rustled the thick foliage, and enlivened bythe songs of 
 the birds that perched upon the boughs. The ivy and the moss crept in. 
 thick clusters over the old trees, and the soft green turf overspread the 
 ground like a silken mat. They emerged upon an open park, with an. 
 ancient hall, displaying the quaint and picturesque architecture of Eliza- 
 beth's time. Long vistas of stately oaks and elm trees appeared on. 
 every side : large herds of deer were cropping the fresh grass ; and occa- 
 sionally a startled hare scoured along the ground, with the speed of the 
 shadows thrown by the light clouds which sweep across a sunny land- 
 scape like a passing breath of summer. 
 
 "If this," said Mr. Pickwick, looking about him; "if this were the 
 place to which all who are troubled with our friend's complaint came, I 
 fancy their old attachment to this world would very soon return." 
 
 " I think so too," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " And really," added Mr. Pickwick, after half an hour's walking had 
 brought them to the village, " really for a misanthrope's choice, this is 
 one of the prettiest and most desirable places of residence, I ever met 
 with." 
 
 In this opinion also, both Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass expressed 
 their concurrence ; and having been directed to the Leather Bottle, a 
 clean and commodious village ale-house, the three travellers entered, 
 and at once inquired for a gentleman of the name of Tupman. 
 
 " Show the gentlemen into the parlour, Tom," said the landlady. 
 
 A stout country lad opened a door at the end of the passage, and the 
 three friends entered a long, low-roofed room, furnished with a large 
 number of high-backed leather-cushioned chairs, of fantastic shapes,
 
 104 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and embellished with a great variety of old portraits and roughly- 
 coloured prints of some antiquity. At the upper end of the room was 
 a table, with a white cloth upon it, well covered with a roast fowl, 
 bacon, ale., and et ceteras ; and at the table sat Mr. Tupman, looking 
 as unlike a man who had taken his leave of the world, as possible. 
 
 On the entrance of his friends, that gentleman laid down his knife 
 arid fork, and with a mournful air advanced to meet them. 
 
 " I did not expect to see you here," he said, as he grasped Mr. Pick- 
 wick's hand. <; It's very kind." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Pickwick, sitting down, and wiping from his fore- 
 head the perspiration which the walk had engendered. " Finish your 
 dinner, and walk out with me. I wish to speak to you alone." 
 
 Mr. Tupman did as he was desired ; and Mr. Pickwick having refreshed 
 himself with a copious draught of ale, waited his friend's leisure. The 
 dinner was quickly despatched, and they walked out together. 
 
 For half an hour, their forms might have been seen pacing the church- 
 yard to and fro, while Mr. Pickwick was engaged in combatting his 
 companion's resolution. Any repetition of his arguments would be 
 useless ; for what language could convey to them that energy and force 
 which their great originator's manner communicated ? Whether Mr. 
 Tupman was already tired of retirement, or whether he was wholly un- 
 able to resist the eloquent appeal which was made to him, matters not ; 
 he did not resist it at last. 
 
 " It mattered little to him," he said, " where he dragged out the 
 miserable remainder of his days : and since his friend laid so much 
 stress upon his humble companionship, he was willing to share his 
 adventures." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick smiled ; they shook hands; and walked back to re-join 
 their companions. 
 
 It was at this moment that Mr. Pickwick made that immortal disco- 
 very, which has been the pride and boast of his friends, and the envy 
 of every antiquarian in this or any other country. They had passed 
 the door of their inn, and walked a little way down the village, before 
 they recollected the precise spot in which it stood. As they turned 
 hack, Mr. Pickwick's eye fell upon a small broken stone, partially 
 buried in the ground, in front of a cottage-door. He paused. 
 
 " This is very strange," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " What is strange ? " inquired Mr. Tupman, staring eagerly at every 
 object near him, but the right one. " God bless me, what's the matter ?" 
 
 This last was an ejaculation of irrepressible astonishment, occasioned 
 by seeing Mr. Pickwick, in his enthusiasm for discovery, fall on his 
 knees before the little stone, and commence wiping the dust off it with 
 his pocket-handkerchief. 
 
 " There is an inscription here," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Is it possible ! " said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " I can discern," continued Mr. Pickwick, rubbing away with all his 
 might, and gazing intently through his spectacles : " I can discern a 
 cross, and a B, and then a T. This is important," continued Mr. Pick- 
 wick, starting up. " This is some very old inscription, existing perhaps
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 105 
 
 long before the ancient alms-houses in this place. It must not be 
 lost." 
 
 He tapped at the cottage-door. A labouring man opened it. 
 
 " Do you know how this stone came here, my friend ? " inquired the 
 benevolent Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No, I doan't, Sir/' replied the man, civilly. " It was here long- 
 afore I war born, or any on us." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick glanced triumphantly at his companion. 
 
 " You you are not particularly attached to it, I dare say," said Mr. 
 Pickwick, trembling with anxiety. " You wouldn't mind selling it, 
 now ? " 
 
 " Ah ! but who'd buy it? " inquired the man, with an expression of 
 face which he probably meant to be very cunning. 
 
 " I'll give you ten shillings for it, at once," said Mr. Pickwick, " if 
 you would take it up for me." 
 
 The astonishment of the village may be easily imagined, when (the 
 little stone having been raised with one wrench of a spade), Mr. Pick- 
 wick, by dint of great personal exertion, bore it with his own hands to 
 the inn, and after having carefully washed it, deposited it on the table. 
 
 The exultation and joy of the Pickwickians knew no bounds, when 
 their patience and assiduity, their washing and scraping, were crowned 
 with success. The stone was uneven and broken, and the letters were 
 straggling and irregular, but the following fragment of an inscription 
 was clearly to be deciphered : 
 
 B 1 L S T 
 
 U M 
 P S H I 
 
 S. M. 
 ARK 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's eyes sparkled with delight, as he sat and gloated over 
 the treasure he had discovered. He had attained one of the greatest 
 objects of his ambition. In a county known to abound in remains of 
 the early ages ; in a village in which there still existed some memorials 
 of the olden time, he he, the Chairman of the Pickwick Club had 
 discovered a strange and curious inscription of unquestionable antiquity, 
 which had wholly escaped the observation of the many learned men 
 who had preceded him. He could hardly trust the evidence of his 
 senses. 
 
 " This this," said he, " determines me. We return to town, to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " To-morrow ! " exclaimed his admiring followers. 
 
 " To-morrow," said Mr. Pickwick. " This treasure must be at once 
 deposited where it can be thoroughly investigated, and properly under- 
 stood. I have another reason for this step. In a few days, an election 
 is to take place for the borough of Eatanswill, at which Mr. Perker, a 
 gentleman whom I lately met, is the agent of one of the candidates.
 
 106 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 We will behold, and minutely examine, a scene so interesting to every 
 Englishman." 
 
 We will," was the animated cry of three voices. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick looked round him. The attachment and fervour of 
 his followers, lighted up a glow of enthusiasm within him. He was 
 their leader, and he felt it. 
 
 " Let us celebrate this happy meeting, with a convivial glass," said he. 
 This proposition, like the other, was received with unanimous applause. 
 And having himself deposited the important stone in a small deal box, 
 purchased from the landlady for the purpose, he placed himself in an 
 arm-chair at the head of the table ; and the evening was devoted to 
 festivity and conversation. 
 
 It was past eleven o'clock a late hour for the little village of Cob- 
 ham when Mr. Pickwick retired to the bed-room which had been 
 prepared for his reception. He threw open the lattice-window, and 
 setting his light upon the table, fell into a train of meditation on the 
 hurried events of the two preceding days. 
 
 The hour and the place were both favourable to contemplation ; Mr. 
 Pickwick was roused, by the church-clock striking twelve. The first 
 stroke of the hour sounded solemnly in his ear, but when the bell ceased 
 the stillness seemed insupportable ; he almost felt as if he had lost a 
 companion. He was nervous and excited ; and hastily undressing him- 
 self, and placing his light in the chimney, got into bed. 
 
 Every one has experienced that disagreeable state of mind, in which 
 a sensation of bodily weariness in vain contends against an inability to 
 sleep. It was Mr. Pickwick's condition at this moment : he tossed first 
 on one side and then on the other; and perseveringly closed his eyes 
 as if to coax himself to slumber. It was of no use. \Vhether it was 
 the unwonted exertion he had undergone, or the heat, or the brandy 
 and water, or the strange bed whatever it was, his thoughts kept 
 reverting very uncomfortably to the grim pictures down stairs, and the 
 old stories to which they had given rise in the course of the evening. 
 After half an hour's tumbling about, he came to the unsatisfactory con- 
 clusion, that it was of no use trying to sleep ; so he got up and partially 
 dressed himself. Anything, he thought, was better than lying there 
 fancying all kinds of horrors. He looked out of the window -it was 
 very dark. He walked about the room it was very lonely. 
 
 He had taken a few turns from the door to the window, and from the 
 window to the door, when the clergyman's manuscript for the first time 
 entered his head. It was a good thought. If it failed to interest him, 
 it might send him to sleep. He took it from his coat-pocket, and 
 drawing a small table towards his bed-side, trimmed the light, put on 
 his spectacles, and composed himself to read. It was a strange hand- 
 writing, and the paper was much soiled and blotted. The title gave 
 him a sudden start, too ; and he could not avoid casting a wistful glance 
 round the room. Reflecting on the absurdity of giving way to such 
 feelings, however, he trimmed the light again, and read as follows:
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 107 
 
 A MADMAN'S MANUSCRIPT. 
 
 " Yes ! a madman's ! How that word would have struck to my 
 heart, many years ago I How it would have roused the terror that used 
 to come upon me sometimes ; sending the blood hissing and tingling 
 through my veins, 'till the cold dew of fear stood in large drops upon 
 my skin, and my knees knocked together with fright ! I like it now 
 though. It's a fine name. Shew me the monarch whose angry frown 
 was ever feared like the glare of a madman's eye whose cord and axe, 
 were ever half so sure as a madman's gripe. Ho ! ho I It's a grand 
 thing to be mad ! to be peeped at like a wild lion through the iron 
 bars to gnash one's teeth and howl, through the long still night, to the 
 merry ring of a heavy chain and to roll and twine among the straw, 
 transported with such brave music. Hurrah for the madhouse ! Oh 
 it's a rare place ! 
 
 " 1 remember days when I was afraid of being mad ; when I used to 
 start from my sleep, and fall upon my knees, and pray to be spared 
 from the curse of my race ; when I rushed from the sight of merriment 
 or happiness, to hide myself in some lonely place, and spend the weary 
 hours in watching the progress of the fever that was to consume my 
 brain. I knew that madness was mixed up with my very blood, and the 
 marrow of my bones ; that one generation had passed away without the 
 pestilence appearing among them, and that I was the first in whom it 
 would revive. I knew it must be so : that so it always had been, and 
 so it ever would be ; and when I cowered in some obscure corner of a 
 crowded room, and saw men whisper, and point, and turn their eyes 
 towards me, I knew they were telling each other of the doomed mad- 
 man ; and I slunk away again to mope in solitude. 
 
 " I did this for years ; long, long years they were. The nights here 
 are long sometimes very long ; but they are nothing to the restless 
 nights, and dreadful dreams I had at that time. It makes me cold to 
 remember them. Large dusky forms with sly and jeering faces 
 crouched in the corners of the room, and bent over my bed at night, 
 tempting me to madness. They told me in low whispers, that the 
 floor of the old house in which my father's father died, was stained with 
 his own blood, shed by his own hand in raging madness. I drove my 
 fingers into my ears, but they screamed into my head till the room, 
 rang with it, that in one generation before him the madness slumbered, 
 but that his grandfather had lived for years with his hands fettered to 
 the ground, to prevent his tearing himself to pieces. I knew they told 
 the truth I knew it well. I had found it out years before, though 
 they had tried to keep it from me. Ha ! ha ! I was too cunning for 
 them, madman as they thought me. 
 
 " At last it came upon me, and I wondered how I could ever have 
 feared it. I could go into the world now, and laugh and shout with the 
 best among them. I knew I was mad, but they did not even suspect 
 it. How I used to hug myself with delight, when I thought of the 
 fine trick I was playing them after their old pointing and leering, when
 
 108 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 I was not mad, but only dreading that I might one day become so ! 
 And how I used to laugh for joy, when I was alone, and thought how 
 well I kept my secret, and how quickly my kind friends would have 
 fallen from me, if they had known the truth. I could have screamed 
 with ecstacy when I dined alone with some fine roaring fellow, to think 
 how pale he would have turned, and how fast he would have run, if he 
 had known that the dear friend who sat close to him, sharpening a 
 bright glittering knife, was a madman with all the power, and half the 
 will, to plunge it in his heart. Oh, it was a merry life I 
 
 " Riches became mine, wealth poured in upon me, and I rioted in 
 pleasures enhanced a thousand fold to me by the consciousness of my 
 well-kept secret. I inherited an estate. The law the eagle-eyed 
 law itself, had been deceived, and had handed over disputed thousands to 
 a madman's hands. Where was the wit of the sharp-sighted men of 
 sound mind ? Where the dexterity of the lawyers, eager to discover a 
 flaw ? The madman's cunning had over-reached them all. 
 
 " I had money. How I was courted ! I spent it profusely. How I 
 was praised ! How those three proud overbearing brothers humbled 
 themselves before me! The old white-headed father, too such 
 deference such respect such devoted friendship why he worshipped 
 me. The old man had a daughter, and the young men a sister ; and 
 all the five were poor. I was rich ; and when I married the girl, I saw 
 a smile of triumph play upon the faces of her needy relatives, as they 
 thought of their well-planned scheme, and their fine prize. It was for 
 me to smile. To smile ! To laugh outright, and tear my hair, and 
 roll upon the ground with shrieks of merriment. They little thought 
 they had married her to a madman. 
 
 " Stay. If they had known it, would they have saved her ? A sister's 
 happiness against her husband's gold. The lightest feather I blow into 
 the air, against the gay chain that ornaments my body ! 
 
 " In one thing I was deceived with all my cunning. If I had not been 
 mad for though we madmen are sharp-witted enough, we get bewil- 
 dered sometimes I should have known that the girl would rather 
 have been placed, stiff and cold in a dull leaden coffin, than borne an 
 envied bride to my rich, glittering, bouse. I should have known that 
 her heart was with the dark-eyed boy whose name I once heard her 
 breathe in her troubled sleep ; and that she had been sacrificed to me, 
 to relieve the poverty of the old white-headed man, and the haughty 
 brothers. 
 
 " I don't remember forms or faces now, but I know the girl was 
 beautiful. I know she was ; for in the bright moonlight nights, when 
 1 start up from my sleep, and all is quiet about me, I see, standing still 
 and motionless in one corner of this cell, a slight and wasted figure with 
 long black hair, which streaming down her back, stirs with no earthly 
 wind, and eyes that fix their gaze on me, and never wink or close. 
 Hush! the blood chills at my heart as I write it down that form is 
 hers ; the face is very pale, and the eyes are glassy bright ; but I know 
 them well. That figure never moves ; it never frowns and mouths as 
 others do, that fill this place sometimes ; but it is much more dreadful
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 109 
 
 to me, even than the spirits that tempted me many yeai*s ago it 
 comes fresh from the grave ; and is so very death-like. 
 
 " For nearly a year I saw that face grow paler ; for nearly a year, I 
 saw the tears steal down the mournful cheeks, and never knew the 
 cause. I found it out at last though. They could not keep it from 
 me long. She had never liked me ; I had never thought she did : she 
 despised my wealth, and hated the splendour in which she lived ; I 
 had not expected that. She loved another. This I had never thought 
 of. Strange feelings came over me, and thoughts forced upon me by 
 some secret power, whirled round and round my hrain. I did not hate 
 her, though I hated the boy she still wept for. I pitied yes, I pitied 
 the wretched life to which her cold and selfish relations had doomed 
 her. I knew that she could not live long, but the thought that before 
 her death she might give birth to some ill-fated being, destined to hand 
 down madness to its offspring, determined me. I resolved to kill her. 
 
 " For many weeks I thought of poison, and then of drowning, and then 
 of fire. A fine sight the grand house in flames, and the madman's 
 wife smouldering away to cinders. Think of the jest of a large reward, 
 too, and of some sane man swinging in the wind for a deed he never 
 did, and ail through a madman's cunning ! I thought often of this, but 
 I gave it up at last. Oh ! the pleasure of stropping the razor day after 
 day, feeling the sharp edge, and thinking of the gash one stroke of its 
 thin bright point would make ! 
 
 " At last the old spirits who had been with me so often before, whis- 
 pered in my ear that the time was come, and thrust the open razor into 
 my hand. I grasped it firmly, rose softly from the bed, and leaned 
 over my sleeping wife. Her face was buried in her hands. I withdrew 
 them softly, and they fell listlessly on her bosom. She had been weep- 
 ing ; for the traces of the tears were still wet upon her cheek. Her face 
 was calm and placid ; and even as I looked upon it, a tranquil smile lighted 
 up her pale features. I laid my hand softly on her shoulder. She 
 started it was only a passing dream. I leant forward again. She 
 screamed, and woke. 
 
 " One motion of my hand, and she would never again have uttered cry 
 or sound. But I was startled, and drew back. Her eyes were fixed 
 on mine. I know not how it was, but they cowed and frightened me ; 
 and I quailed beneath them. She rose from the bed, still gazing fixedly 
 and steadily on me. I trembled; the razor was in my hand, but I 
 could not move. She made towards the door. As she neared it, she 
 turned, and withdrew her eyes from my face. The spell was broken. 
 I bounded forward, and clutched her by the arm. Uttering shriek upon, 
 shriek, she sunk upon the ground. 
 
 " Now I could have killed her without a struggle ; but the house was 
 alarmed. I heard the tread of footsteps on the stairs. I replaced the 
 razor in its usual drawer, unfastened the door, and called loudly for 
 assistance. 
 
 " They came, and raised her, and placed her on the bed. She lay 
 bereft of animation for hours ; and when life, look, and speech returned, 
 her senses had deserted her, and she raved wildly and furiously.
 
 110 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Doctors were called in great men who rolled up to my door in easy 
 carriages, with fine horses and gaudy servants. They were at her bed- 
 side for weeks. They had a great meeting, and consulted together in 
 low and solemn voices in another room. One, the cleverest and most 
 celebrated among them, took me aside, and bidding me prepare for the 
 worst, told me me, the madman ! that my wife was mad. He stood 
 close beside me at an open window, his eyes looking in my face, and his 
 hand laid upon my arm. With one effort, I could have hurled him 
 into the street beneath. It would have been rare sport to have done 
 it ; but my secret was at stake, and I let him go. A few days after, 
 they told me I must place her under some restraint : I must provide a 
 keeper for her. Ill went into the open fields where none could hear 
 me, and laughed till the air resounded with my shouts ! 
 
 " She died next day. The white-headed old man followed her to the 
 grave, and the proud brothers dropped a tear over the insensible corpse 
 of her, whose sufferings they had regarded in her life-time with muscles 
 of iron. All this was food for my secret mirth, and I laughed behind 
 the white handkerchief which I held up to my face, as we rode home, 
 'till the tears came into my eyes. 
 
 " But though I had carried my object and killed her, I was restless 
 and disturbed, and I felt that before long, my secret must be known. 
 I could not hide the wild mirth and joy 'which boiled within me, and 
 made me when I was alone, at home, jump up and beat my hands 
 together, and dance round and round, and roar aloud. When I went 
 out, and saw the busy crowds hurrying about the streets : or to the 
 theatre, and heard the sound of music, and beheld the people dancing, 
 I felt such glee, that I could have rushed among them, and torn them 
 to pieces limb from limb, and howled in transport. But I ground my 
 teeth, and struck my feet upon the floor, and drove my sharp nails into 
 my hands. I kept it down ; and no one knew I was a madman yet. 
 
 " I remember though it's one of the last things I can remember : for 
 now I mix realities with my dreams, and having so much to do, and 
 being always hurried here, have no time to separate the two, from some 
 strange confusion in which they get involved 1 remember how I let it 
 out at last. Ha ! ha ! I think I see their frightened looks now, and 
 feel the ease with which I flung them from me, and dashed my clenched 
 fist into their white faces, and then flew like the wind, and left them 
 screaming and shouting far behind. The strength of a giant comes 
 upon me when I think of it. There see how this iron bar bends 
 beneath my furious wrench. I could snap it like a twig, only there are 
 long galleries here with many doors I don't think I could find my way 
 along them : and even if I could, I know there are iron gates below 
 which they keep locked and barred. They know what a clever madman 
 I have been, and they are proud to have me here, to show. 
 
 " Let me see ; yes, I had been out. It was late at night when I 
 reached home, and found the proudest of the three proud brothers, wait- 
 ing to see me urgent business he said : I recollect it well. I hated 
 that man with all a madman's hate. Many and many a time had my 
 fingers longed to tear him. They told me he was there. I ran swiftly
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. Ill 
 
 up stairs. He had a word to say to me. I dismissed the servants. It 
 was late, and we were alone together -for the first time. 
 
 " I kept my eyes carefully from him at first, for I knew what he little 
 thought and I gloried in the knowledge that the light of madness 
 gleamed from them like fire. We sat in silence for a few minutes. He 
 spoke at last. My recent dissipation, and strange remarks, made so 
 soon after his sister's death, were an insult to her memory. Coupling 
 together many circumstances which had at first escaped' his observa- 
 tion, he thought I had not treated her well. He wished to know 
 whether he was right in inferring that I meant to cast a reproach upon 
 her memory, and a disrespect upon her family. It was due to the uni- 
 form he wore, to demand this explanation. 
 
 " This man had a commission in the army a commission, purchased 
 with my money, and his sister's misery. This was the man who had 
 been foremost in the plot to ensnare me, and grasp my wealth. This 
 was the man who had been the main instrument in forcing his sister to 
 wed me ; well knowing that her heart was given to that puling boy. 
 Due ! Due to his uniform ! The livery of his degradation ! I turned 
 my eyes upon him I could not help it but I spoke not a word. 
 
 " I saw the sudden change that came upon him, beneath my gaze. 
 He was a bold man, but the colour faded from his face, and he drew 
 back his chair. I dragged mine nearer to him ; and as I laughed 
 I was very merry then I saw him shudder. I felt the madness rising 
 within me. He was afraid of me. 
 
 " ' You were very fond of your sister when she was alive' I said 
 Very.' 
 
 " He looked uneasily round him, and I saw his hand grasp the back 
 of his chair: but he said nothing. 
 
 " ' You villain,' said I, * I found you out ; I discovered your hellish 
 plots against me ; I know her heart was fixed on some one else before 
 you compelled her to marry me. I know it I know it.' 
 
 " He jumped suddenly from his chair, brandished it aloft, and bid me 
 stand back for I took care to be getting closer to him, all the time I 
 spoke. 
 
 " I screamed rather than talked, for I felt tumultuous passions eddying 
 through my veins, and the old spirits whispering and taunting me to 
 tear his heart out. 
 
 " ' Damn you,' said I, starting up, and rushing upon him ; < I killed 
 her. I am a madman. Down with you. Blood, blood, I will have it.' 
 
 " I turned aside with one blow, the chair he hurled at me in his terror, 
 and closed with him ; and with a heavy crash, we rolled upon the floor 
 together. 
 
 " It was a fine struggle that, for he was a tall strong man, fighting for 
 his life ; and I, a powerful madman, thirsting to destroy him. I knew 
 no strength could equal mine, and I was right. Right, again, though a 
 madman ! His struggles grew fainter. I knelt upon his chest, and 
 clasped his brawny throat, firmly with both hands. His face grew 
 purple; his eyes were starting from his head, and with protruded 
 tongue, he seemed to mock me. I squeezed the tighter.
 
 112 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " The door was suddenly burst open with a loud noise, and a crowd 
 of people rushed forward, crying- aloud to each other, to secure the 
 madman. 
 
 " My secret was out ; and my only struggle now, was for liberty and 
 freedom. I gained my feet before a hand was on me, threw myself 
 among my assailants, and cleared my way with my strong arm as if I 
 bore a hatchet in my hand, and hewed them down before me. I gained 
 the door, dropped over the banisters, and in an instant was in the 
 street. 
 
 " Straight and swift I ran, and no one dared to stop me. I heard the 
 noise of feet behind, and redoubled my speed. It grew fainter and 
 fainter in the distance, and at length died away altogether : but on I 
 bounded, through marsh and rivulet, over fence and wall, with a wild 
 shout which was taken up by the strange beings that flocked around me 
 on every side, and swelled the sound, till it pierced the air. I was borne 
 upon the arms of demons who swept along upon the wind, and bore 
 down bank and hedge before them, and spun me round and round with 
 a rustle and a speed that made my head swim, until at last they threw 
 me from them with a violent shock, and I fell heavily upon the 
 earth. When I woke I found myself here here in this gay cell where 
 the sun-light seldom comes, and the moon steals in, in rays which only 
 serve to show the dark shadows about me, and that silent figure in its 
 old corner. When I lie awake, I can sometimes hear strange shrieks 
 and cries from distant parts of this large place. What they are, I know 
 not ; but they neither come from that pale form, nor does it regard 
 them. For from the first shades of dusk 'till the earliest light of morn- 
 ing, it still stands motionless in the same place, listening to the music 
 of my iron chain, and watching my gambols on my straw bed." 
 
 At the end of the manuscript, was written, in another hand, this 
 note : 
 
 [The unhappy man whose ravings are recorded above, was a melan- 
 choly instance of the baneful results of energies misdirected in early 
 life, and excesses prolonged until their consequences could never be 
 repaired. The thoughtless riot, dissipation, and debauchery of .his 
 younger days, produced fever and delirium. The first effects of the 
 latter, was the strange delusion, founded upon a well-known medical 
 theory, strongly contended for by some, and as strongly contested by 
 others, that an hereditary madness existed in his family. This produced 
 a settled gloom, which in time developed a morbid insanity, and finally 
 terminated in raving madness. There is every reason to believe that 
 the events he detailed, though distorted in the description by his 
 diseased imagination, really happened. It is only matter of wonder to 
 those who were acquainted with the vices of his early career, that his 
 passions, when no longer controulled by reason, did not lead him to 
 the commission of still more frightful deeds.J 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's candle was just expiring in the socket, as he con- 
 cluded the perusal of the old clergyman's manuscript ; and when the 
 jght went suddenly out, without any previous flicker by way of warning,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 113 
 
 it communicated a very considerable start to his excited frame. Hastily 
 throwing off such articles of clothing as he had put on when he rose 
 from his uneasy bed, and casting a fearful glance around, he once more 
 scrambled hastily between the sheets, and soon fell fast asleep. 
 
 The sun was shining brilliantly into his chamber when he awoke, 
 and the morning was far advanced. The gloom which had oppressed 
 him on the previous night, had disappeared with the dark shadows 
 which shrouded the landscape, and his thoughts and feelings were as 
 light and gay as the morning itself. After a hearty breakfast, the 
 four gentlemen sallied forth to walk to Gravesend, followed by a man 
 bearing the stone in its deal box. They reached that town about one 
 o'clock, (their luggage they had directed to be forwarded to the City, 
 from Rochester,) and being fortunate enough to secure places on the 
 outside of a coach, arrived in London in sound health and spirits, on. 
 that same afternoon. 
 
 The next three or four days were occupied with the preparations 
 which were necessary for their journey to the borough of Eatanswill. 
 As any reference to that most important undertaking demands a sepa- 
 rate chapter, we may devote the few lines which remain at the close of 
 this, to narrate, with great brevity, the history of the antiquarian dis- 
 covery. 
 
 It appears from the Transactions of the Club, then, that Mr. Pick- 
 wick lectured upon the discovery at a General Club Meeting, convened 
 on the night succeeding their return, and entered into a variety of 
 ingenious and erudite speculations on the meaning of the inscription. 
 It also appears that a skilful artist executed a faithful delineation of the 
 curiosity, which was engraven on stone, and presented to the Royal 
 Antiquarian Society, and other learned bodies that heart-burnings and 
 jealousies without number, were created by rival controversies which 
 were penned upon the subject and that Mr. Pickwick himself wrote a 
 Pamphlet, containing ninety-six pages of very small print, and twenty- 
 seven different readings of the inscription. That three old gentlemen 
 cut off their eldest sons with a shilling a- piece for presuming to doubt 
 the antiquity of the fragment and that one enthusiastic individual cut 
 himself off prematurely, in despair at being unable to fathom its 
 meaning. That Mr. Pickwick was elected an honorary member of 
 seventeen native and foreign societies, for making the discovery ; that 
 none of the seventeen could make anything of it, but that all the 
 seventeen agreed it was very extraordinary. 
 
 Mr. JBlotton, indeed and the name will be doomed to the undying 
 contempt of those who cultivate the mysterious and the sublime Mr 
 Blotton, we say, with the doubt and cavilling peculiar to vulgar minds 
 presumed to state a view of the case, as degrading as ridiculous. Mr. 
 Blotton, with a mean desire to tarnish the lustre of the immortal name 
 of Pickwick, actually undertook a journey to Cobham in person, and 
 on his return, sarcastically observed in an oration at the club, that he 
 had seen the man from whom the stone was purchased ; that the man 
 presumed the stone to be ancient, but solemnly denied the antiquity 
 of the inscription inasmuch as he represented it to have been rudely
 
 114 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 carved by himself in an idle mood, and to display letters intended to 
 bear neither more nor less than the simple construction of" Bill 
 Stumps, his mark :" and that Mr. Stumps, being little in the habit of 
 original composition, and more accustomed to be guided by the sound 
 of words than by the strict rules of orthography, had omitted the con- 
 cluding " L " of his Christian name. 
 
 The Pickwick Club, as might have been expected from so enlight- 
 ened an Institution, received this statement with the contempt it 
 deserved, expelled the presumptuous and ill-conditioned Blotton from 
 the society, and voted Mr. Pickwick a pair of gold spectacles, in 
 token of their confidence and approbation ; in return for which, Mr. 
 Pickwick caused a portrait of himself to be painted, and hung up in 
 the club-room which portrait, by the by, he did not wish to have 
 destroyed when he grew a few years older. 
 
 Mr. Blotton was ejected but not conquered. He also wrote a 
 pamphlet, addressed to the seventeen learned societies, containing a 
 repetition of the statement he had already made, and rather more than 
 half intimating his opinion that the seventeen learned societies afore- 
 said, were so many " humbugs." Hereupon the virtuous indignation 
 of the seventeen learned societies being roused, several fresh pamphlets 
 appeared ; the foreign learned societies corresponded with the native 
 learned societies, the native learned societies translated the pamphlets 
 of the foreign learned societies into English, the foreign learned 
 societies translated the pamphlets of the native learned societies into 
 all sorts of languages : and thus commenced that celebrated scientific 
 discussion so well known to all men, as the Pickwick controversy. 
 
 But this base attempt to injure Mr. Pickwick, recoiled upon the head 
 of its calumnious author. The seventeen learned societies unanimously 
 voted the presumptuous Blotton an ignorant meddler ; and forthwith 
 set to work upon more treatises than ever. And to this day the stone 
 remains an illegible monument of Mr. Pickwick's greatness, and a lasting 
 trophy of the littleness of his enemies.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 115 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE OF A VERY IMPORTANT PROCEEDING ON THE PART 
 OF MR. PICKWICK; NO LESS AN EPOCH IN HIS LIFE, THAN IN 
 THIS HISTORY. 
 
 MR. PICKWICK'S apartments in Goswell Street, although on a 
 limited scale, were not only of a very neat and comfortable description, 
 but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his genius and 
 observation. His sitting-room was the first floor front, his bed-room 
 the second floor front ; and thus, whether he were sitting at his desk in 
 the parlour, or standing before the dressing-glass in his dormitory, he 
 had an equal opportunity of contemplating human nature in all the 
 numerous phases it exhibits, in that not more populous than popular 
 thoroughfare. His landlady, Mrs. Bardell the relict and sole executrix 
 of a deceased custom-house officer was a comely woman of bustling 
 manners and agreeable appearance, with a natural genius for cooking, 
 improved by study and long practice into an exquisite talent. There 
 were no children, no servants, no fowls. The only other inmates of the 
 house were a large man, and a small boy ; the first a lodger, the second 
 a production of Mrs. Bardell's. The large man was always home pre- 
 cisely at ten o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed 
 himself into the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back par- 
 lour; and the infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master 
 Bardell were exclusively confined to the neighbouring pavements and 
 gutters. Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house ; and in it 
 Mr. Pickwick's will was law. 
 
 To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy of 
 the establishment, and conversant with the admirable regulation of Mr. 
 Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behaviour on the morning previous 
 to that which had been fixed upon for the journey to Eatanswill, would 
 have been most mysterious and unaccountable. He paced the room to 
 and fro with hurried steps, popped his head out of the window at 
 intervals of about three minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, 
 and exhibited many other manifestations of impatience, very unusual 
 with him. It was evident that something of great importance was in 
 contemplation, but what that something was not even Mrs. Bardell 
 herself had been enabled to discover. 
 
 " Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick at last, as that amiable female 
 approached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment 
 
 " Sir," said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " Your little boy is a very long time gone." 
 
 " Why it's a good long way to the Borough, Sir," remonstrated Mrs. 
 Bardell. 
 
 II
 
 116 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, " very true ; so it is." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick relapsed into silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed her 
 dusting. 
 
 " Mrs. Bardell," said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few 
 minutes. 
 
 " Sir," said Mrs. Bardell again. 
 
 " Do you think it's a much greater expense to keep two people, 
 than to keep one?" 
 
 " La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, colouring up to the very 
 "border of her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of matrimo- 
 nial twinkle in the eyes of her lodger ; " La, Mr. Pickwick, what a 
 question ! " 
 
 " Well, but do you ? '' inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " That depends " said Mrs. Bardell, approaching the duster very 
 near to Mr. Pickwick's elbow, which was planted on the table ; " that 
 depends a good deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pickwick ; and 
 whether it's a saving and careful person, Sir." 
 
 " That's very true," said Mr. Pickwick, " but the person I have in 
 my eye (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) I think possesses 
 these qualities ; and has, moreover, a considerable knowledge of the 
 world, and a great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell ; which may be of 
 material use to me." 
 
 " La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell ; the crimson rising to her 
 cap-border again. 
 
 " I do," said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont in 
 speaking of a subject which interested him, " I do, indeed ; and to tell you 
 the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind." 
 
 " Dear me, Sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " You'll think it very strange now," said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, 
 with a good-humoured glance at his companion, " that I never consulted 
 you about this matter, and never even mentioned it, till I sent your 
 little boy out this morning eh ? " 
 
 Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long worshipped 
 Mr. Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, raised to a 
 pinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant hopes had never 
 dared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose a deliberate 
 plan, too sent her little boy to the Borough, to get him out of the 
 way how thoughtful how considerate ! 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Pickwick, " what do you think ? " 
 
 Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation, 
 " you're very kind, Sir." 
 
 " It'll save you a good deal of trouble, won't it ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, Sir," replied Mrs. 
 Bardell ; " and, of course, I should take more trouble to please you then, 
 than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so much 
 consideration for my loneliness." 
 
 " Ah, to be sure," said Mr. Pickwick ; *' I never thought of that. 
 When I am in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. To 
 be sure, so you will."
 
 
 
 
 
 *'-X^
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 117 
 
 " I 'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " And your little boy " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Bless his heart," interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob. 
 
 " He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick, "a lively 
 one, who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week, than he 
 would ever learn in a year." And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly. 
 
 " Oh you dear " said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick started. 
 
 " Oh you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardell ; and without 
 more ado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pick- 
 wick's neck, with a cataract of tears, and a chorus of sobs. 
 
 " Bless my soul," cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick ; " Mrs. Bardell 
 my good woman dear me, what a situation pray consider. Mrs. 
 Bardell, don't if anybody should come " 
 
 -"Oh, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically; "I'll 
 never leave you dear, kind, good, soul ;" and, with these words, Mrs. 
 Bardell clung the tighter. 
 
 " Mercy upon me," said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently, " I hear 
 somebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good creature, 
 don't." But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing : for Mrs. 
 Bardell had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms ; and before he could gain 
 time to deposit her on a chair, Master Bardell entered the room, ushering 
 in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood with 
 his lovely burden in his anus, gazing vacantly on the countenances of 
 his friends, without the slighest attempt at recognition or explanation. 
 They, in their turn, stared at him ; and Master Bardell, in his turn, 
 stared at everybody. 
 
 The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and the per- 
 plexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might have remained 
 in exactly the same relative situations until the suspended animation of 
 the lady was restored, had it not been for a most beautiful and touching 
 expression of filial affection on the part of her youthful son. Clad in a 
 tight suit of corderoy, spangled with brass buttons of a very considerable 
 size, he at first stood at the door astounded and uncertain ; but by 
 degrees, the impression that his mother must have suffered some per- 
 sonal damage, pervaded his partially developed mind, and considering 
 Mr. Pickwick as the aggressor, he set up an appalling and semi-earthly 
 kind of howling, and butting forward with his head, commenced assailing 
 that immortal gentleman about the back and legs, with such blows and 
 pinches as the strength of his arm, and the violence of his excitement, 
 allowed. 
 
 " Take this little villain away," said the agonised Mr. Pickwick, 
 " he's mad." 
 
 ' What is the matter ? " said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. " Take away the 
 boy (here Mr. Winkle carried the interesting boy, screaming and 
 struggling, to the further end of the apartment). Now help me, lead 
 'this woman down stairs." 
 
 M 2
 
 118 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 "Oh, I am better now," said Mrs. Bardell, faintly. 
 
 " Let me lead you down stairs," said the ever gallant Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Thank you, Sir thank you ; " exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, hysterically. 
 And down stairs she was led accordingly, accompanied by her affectionate 
 son. 
 
 " I cannot conceive " said Mr. Pickwick, when his friend returned 
 " I cannot conceive what has been the matter with that woman. I 
 had merely announced to her my intention of keeping a man servant, 
 when she fell into the extraordinary paroxysm in which you found her. 
 Very extraordinary thing." 
 
 " Very," said his three friends. 
 
 " Placed me in such an extremely awkward situation," continued 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Very ; " was the reply of his followers, as they coughed slightly, 
 and looked dubiously at each other. 
 
 This behaviour was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He remarked their 
 incredulity. They evidently suspected him. 
 
 " There is a man in the passage now," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " It's the man I spoke to you about," said Mr. Pickwick, " I sent for 
 him to the Borough this morning. Have the goodness to call him up, 
 Snodgrass." 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass did as he was desired ; and Mr. Samuel Weller forth- 
 with presented himself. 
 
 " Oh you remember me, I suppose ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I should think so," replied Sam, with a patronising wink. " Queer 
 start that 'ere, but he was one too many for you, warn't he ? Up to 
 snuff and a pinch or two over eh? " 
 
 " Never mind that matter now," said Mr. Pickwick hastily, " I want 
 to speak to you about something else. Sit down." 
 
 " Thank'ee, Sir," said Sam. And down he sat without farther bid- 
 ding, having previously deposited his old white hat on the landing 
 outside the door. " Ta'nt a werry good 'un to look at/' said Sam, 
 " but it's an astonishin' 'un to wear ; and afore the brim went, it was a 
 wery handsome tile. Hows'ever it's lighter without it, that's one thing, 
 and every hole lets in some air, that's another wentilation gossamer I 
 calls it." On the delivery of this sentiment, Mr. Weller smiled 
 agreeably upon the assembled Pickwickians. 
 
 " Now with regard to the matter on \vhich I, with the concurrence of 
 these gentlemen, sent for you," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " That's the pint, Sir," interposed Sam ; " out vith it, as the father 
 said to the child, ven he swallowed a farden." 
 
 " We want to know, in the first place," said Mr. Pickwick, whether 
 you have any reason to be discontented with your present situation." 
 
 " Afore I answers that 'ere question, genTm'n," replied Mr. Weller, 
 " / should like to know, in the first place, whether you're a goin' to 
 purwide me vith a better." 
 
 A sunbeam of placid benevolence played on Mr. Pickwick's features 
 as he said, " I have half made up my mind to engage you myself." 
 
 " Have you, though ? " said Sam.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 119 
 
 Mr. Pickwick nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " Wages ? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " Twelve pounds a year," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Clothes ? " 
 
 " Two suits." 
 
 "Work?" 
 
 " To attend upon me ; and travel about with me and these gentlemen 
 here." 
 
 " Take the bill down," said Sam, emphatically. " I'm let to a single 
 gentleman, and the terms is agreed upon." 
 
 " You accept the situation ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Cert'nly," replied Sam. " If the clothes fits me half as well as the 
 place, they'll do." 
 
 " You can get a character of course ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 ' Ask the landlady o' the White Hart about that, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " Can you come this evening ? " 
 
 " I'll get into the clothes this minute, if they're here," said Sam with 
 great alacrity. 
 
 " Call at eight this evening," said Mr. Pickwick ; and if the inquiries 
 are satisfactory, they shall be provided." 
 
 With the single exception of one amiable indiscretion, in which an 
 assistant housemaid had equally participated, the history of Mr. Weller's 
 conduct was so very blameless, that Mr. Pickwick felt fully justified in 
 closing the engagement that very evening. With the promptness and 
 energy which characterised not only the public proceedings, but all the 
 private actions of this extraordinary man, he at once led his new 
 attendant to one of those convenient emporiums where gentlemen's 
 new and second-hand clothes are provided, and the troublesome and 
 inconvenient formality of measurement dispensed with; and before 
 night had closed in, Mr. Weller was furnished with a grey coat with the 
 ' P. c.' button, a black hat with a cockade to it, a pink striped waistcoat, 
 light breeches and gaiters, and a variety of other necessaries, too 
 numerous to recapitulate. 
 
 " Well," said that suddenly-transformed individual, as he took his seat 
 on the outside of the Eatanswill coach next morning ; " I wonder 
 vether I'm meant to be a footman, or a groom, or a game-keeper, or a 
 seedsman. I looks like a sort of compo of every one on 'em. Never 
 mind ; there's change of air, plenty to see, and little to do ; and all this 
 suits my complaint uncommon, so long life to the Pickvicks, says I."
 
 120 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF EATANSWILL ; OF THE STATE OF PARTIES 
 THEREIN ; AND OF THE ELECTION OF A MEMBER TO SERVE IN 
 PARLIAMENT FOR THAT ANCIENT, LOYAL, AND PATRIOTIC 
 BOROUGH. 
 
 WE will frankly acknowledge, that up to the period of our being- first 
 immersed in the voluminous papers of the Pickwick club, we had never 
 heard of Eatanswill ; we will with equal candour admit, that we have in. 
 vain searched for proof of the actual existence of such a place at the 
 present day. Knowing the deep reliance to be placed on every note and 
 statement of Mr. Pickwick's, and not presuming to set up our recollec- 
 tion against the recorded declarations of that great man, we have 
 consulted every authority, bearing upon the subject, to which we could 
 possibly refer. We have traced every name in schedules A and B, 
 without meeting with that of Eatanswill ; we have minutely examined 
 every corner of the Poeket County Maps issued for the benefit of 
 society by our distinguished publishers, and the same result has 
 attended our investigation. We are therefore led to believe, that Mr. 
 Pickwick, with that anxious desire to abstain from giving offence to any, 
 and with those delicate feelings for which all who knew him well know 
 he was so eminently remarkable, purposely substituted a fictitious desig- 
 nation, for the real name of the place in which his observations were 
 made. We are confirmed in this belief by a little circumstance, appa- 
 rently slight and trivial in itself, but when considered in this point of 
 view, not undeserving of notice. In Mr. Pickwick's note-book, we can 
 just trace an entry of the fact, that the places of himself and followers 
 were booked by the Norwich coach ; but this entry was afterwards lined 
 through, as if for the purpose of concealing even the direction in which 
 the borough is situated. We will not, therefore, hazard a guess upon 
 the subject, but will at once proceed with this history ; content with the 
 materials which its characters have provided for us. 
 
 It appears, then, that the Eatanswill people, like the people of many 
 other small towns, considered themselves of the utmost and most mighty 
 importance, and that every man in Eatanswill, conscious of the weight 
 that attached to his example, felt himself bound to unite, heart and soul, 
 with one of the two great parties that divided the town the Blues and 
 the Buffs. Now the Blues lost no opportunity of opposing the Buffs, 
 and the Buffs lost no opportunity of opposing the Blues ; and the con- 
 sequence w T as, that whenever the Buffs and Blues met together at public 
 meeting, Town- Hall, fair, or market, disputes and high words arose 
 between them. With these dissensions it is almost superfluous to say 
 that every thing in Eatanswill was made a party-question. If the Buffs 
 proposed to new skylight the market-place, the Blues got up public
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 121 
 
 meetings, and denounced the proceeding-; if the Blues proposed the 
 erection of an additional pump in the High Street, the Buffs rose as one 
 man and stood aghast at the enormity. There were Blue shops and 
 Buff shops, Blue inns and Buff inns ; there was a Blue aisle and a Buff 
 aisle, in the very church itself. 
 
 Of course it was essentially and indispensably necessary that each of 
 these powerful parties should have its chosen organ and representative : 
 and, accordingly, there were two newspapers in the town the Eatan- 
 swill Gazette and the Eatanswill Independent ; the former advocating 
 Blue principles, and the latter conducted on grounds decidedly Buff. 
 Fine newspapers they were. Such leading articles, and such spirited 
 attacks ! " Our worthless contemporary the Gazette " " That dis- 
 graceful and dastardly journal, the Independent" "That false and 
 scurrilous print, the Independent " " That vile and slanderous calum- 
 niator, the Gazette ; " these, and other spirit-stirring denunciations 
 were strewn plentifully over the columns of each, in every number, 
 and excited feelings of the most intense delight and indignation in 
 the bosoms of the townspeople. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, with his usual foresight and sagacity, had chosen a 
 peculiarly desirable moment for his visit to the borough. Never was 
 such a contest known. The Honourable Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey 
 Hall, was the Blue candidate ; and Horatio Fizkin, Esq., of Fizkin 
 Lodge, near Eatanswill, had been prevailed upon by his friends to stand 
 forward on the Buff interest. The Gazette warned the electors of 
 Eatanswill that the eyes not only of England, but of the whole civilised 
 world, were upon them ; and the Independent imperatively demanded to 
 know, whether the constituency of Eatanswill were the grand fellows 
 they had always taken them for, or base and servile tools, undeserving 
 alike of the name of Englishmen and the blessings of freedom. Never 
 had such a commotion agitated the town before. 
 
 It was late in the evening, when Mr. Pickwick and his companions, 
 assisted by Sam, dismounted from the roof of the Eatanswill coach. 
 Large blue silk flags were flying from the windows of the Town Arms 
 Inn, and bills were posted in every sash, intimating, in gigantic letters, 
 that the honourable Samuel Slumkey 's Committee sat there daily. A 
 crowd of idlers were assembled in the road, looking at a hoarse man 
 in the balcony, who was apparently talking himself very red in th 
 face in Mr. Slumkey's behalf; but the force and point of whose argu- 
 ments were somewhat impaired by the perpetual beating of four large 
 drums which Mr. Fizkin's committee had stationed at the street corner. 
 There was a busy little man beside him, though, who took off his hat at 
 intervals and motioned to the people to cheer, which they regularly did, 
 most enthusiastically ; and as the red-faced gentleman went on talking 
 till he was redder in the face than ever, it seemed to answer his purpose 
 quite as well as if anybody had heard him. 
 
 The Pickwickians had no sooner dismounted, than they were sur- 
 rounded by a branch mob of the honest and independent, who forthwith 
 set up three deafening cheers, which being responded to by the main 
 body (for it's not at all necessary for a crowd to know what they are
 
 122 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 cheering about) swelled into a tremendous roar of triumph, which 
 stopped even the red-faced man in the balcony. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " shouted the mob in conclusion. 
 
 " One cheer more," screamed the little fugleman in the balcony ; 
 and out shouted the mob again, as if lungs were cast ironj with steel 
 works. 
 
 " Slumkey for ever ! " roared the honest and independent. 
 
 " Slumkey for ever I" echoed Mr. Pickwick, taking off his hat. 
 
 " No Fizkin," roared the crowd. 
 
 " Certainly not," shouted Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " And then there was another roaring, like that of a 
 whole menagerie when the elephant has rung the bell for the cold meat. 
 
 " Who is Slumkey? " whispered Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick in the same tone. te Hush. 
 Don't ask any questions. It's always best on these occasions to do 
 what the mob do." 
 
 " But suppose there are two mobs?" suggested Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Shout with the largest," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Volumes could not have said more. 
 
 They entered the house, the crowd opening right and left to let them 
 pass, and cheering vociferously. The first object of consideration was to 
 secure quarters for the night. 
 
 " Can we have beds here ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick, summoning the 
 waiter. 
 
 " Don't know, Sir," replied the man ; " afraid we're full, Sir I'll 
 inquire, sir." Away he went for that purpose, and presently returned, 
 to ask whether the gentlemen were " Blue." 
 
 As neither Mr. Pickwick nor his companions took any vital interest 
 in the cause of either candidate, the question was rather a difficult one 
 to answer. In this dilemma Mr. Pickwick bethought himself of his new 
 friend, Mr. Perker. 
 
 " Do you know a gentleman of the name of Perker ? " inquired Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Certainly, Sir ; honourable Mr. Samuel Slumkey's agent." 
 
 " He is Blue, I think ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, Sir." 
 
 " Then we are Blue," said Mr. Pickwick ; but observing that the 
 man looked rather doubtful at this accommodating announcement, he 
 gave him his card, and desired him to present it to Mr. Perker forth- 
 with, if he should happen to be in the house. The waiter retired ; and re- 
 appearing almost immediately with a request that Mr. Pickwick would 
 follow him, led the way to a large room on the first floor, where, seated 
 at a long table covered with books and papers, was Mr. Perker. 
 
 " Ah ah my dear Sir," said the little man, advancing to meet him; 
 " very happy to see you, my dear Sir, very. Pray sit down. So you 
 have carried your intention into effect. You have come down here to 
 see an election eh ? " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Spirited contest, my dear Sir," said the little man.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 123 
 
 " I am delighted to hear it," said Mr. Pickwick, rubbing 1 his hands 
 " I like to see sturdy patriotism, on whatever side it is called forth ; 
 and so it's a spirited contest ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," said the little man, " very much so indeed. We have 
 opened all the public houses in the place, and left our adversary nothing 
 but the beer-shops masterly stroke of policy that, my dear Sir, eh ? " 
 and the little man smiled complacently, and took a large pinch of 
 snuff. 
 
 " And what are the probabilities as to the result of the contest ? '' 
 inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Why doubtful, my dear Sir; rather doubtful as yet," replied the 
 little man. " Fizkin's people have got three-and-thirty voters in the 
 lock-up coach-house at the White Hart." 
 
 "In the coach-house!" said Mr. Pickwick, considerably astonished 
 by this second stroke of policy. 
 
 " They keep 'em locked up there, till they want 'em," resumed the 
 little man. " The effect of that is, you see, to prevent our getting at 
 them ; and even if we could, it would be of no use, for they keep them 
 very drunk on purpose. Smart fellow Fizkin's agent very smart fellow 
 indeed." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick stared, but said nothing. 
 
 " We are pretty confident, though," said Mr. Perker, sinking his 
 voice almost to a whisper. " We had a little tea-party here, last night 
 five-and-forty women, my dear Sir and gave every one of 'em a 
 green parasol when she went away." 
 
 " A parasol ! " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Fact, my dear Sir, fact. Five-and-forty green parasols, at seven 
 and six-pence a-piece. All women like finery, extraordinary the 
 effect of those parasols. Secured all their husbands, and half their 
 brothers beats stockings, and flannel, and all that sort of thing hollow. 
 My idea, my dear Sir, entirely. Hail, rain, or sunshine, you can't walk 
 half a dozen yards up the street, without encountering half a dozen . 
 green parasols." 
 
 Here the little man indulged in a convulsion of mirth, which was 
 only checked by the entrance of a third party. 
 
 This was a tall, thin man, with a sandy-coloured head inclined to 
 baldness, and a face in which solemn importance was blended with a look 
 of unfathomable profundity. He was dressed in a long brown surtout, 
 with a black cloth waistcoat, and drab trousers. A double eye-glass 
 dangled at his waistcoat: and on his head he wore a very low-crowned 
 hat with a broad brim. The new comer was introduced to Mr. Pick- 
 wick as Mr. Pott, the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette. After a few 
 preliminary remarks, Mr. Pott turned round to Mr. Pickwick, and said 
 with solemnity 
 
 " This contest excites great interest in the metropolis, Sir ? " 
 
 " I believe it does," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " To which I have reason to know," said Pott, looking towards Mr. 
 Perker for corroboratien, " to which I have reason to know my article 
 of last Saturday in some degree contributed."
 
 124 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Not the least doubt of that," said the little man. 
 
 " The press is a mighty engine, Sir," said Pott. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick yielded his fullest assent to the proposition. 
 
 " But I trust, Sir," said Pott, "that I have never abused the enor- 
 mous power I wield. I trust, Sir, that I have never pointed the noble 
 instrument which is placed in my hands, against the sacred bosom of 
 private life, or the tender breast of individual reputation ; I trust, Sir, 
 that I have devoted my energies to to endeavours humble they may 
 be, humble I know they are to instil those principles of which 
 are " 
 
 Here the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette, appearing to ramble, Mr. 
 Pickwick came to his relief, and said 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " And what, Sir " said Pott " what, Sir, let me ask you as an 
 impartial man, is the state of the public mind in London, with reference 
 to my contest with the Independent ? " 
 
 *' Greatly excited, no doubt," interposed Mr. Perker, with a look of 
 slyness which was very likely accidental. 
 
 " That contest," said Pott, " shall be prolonged so long as I have 
 health and strength, and that portion of talent with which I am gifted. 
 From that contest, Sir, although it may unsettle men's minds and excite 
 their feelings, and render them incapable for the discharge of the every- 
 day duties of ordinary life ; from that contest, Sir, I will never shrink, 
 till I have set my heel upon the Eatanswill Independent. I wish the 
 people of London, and the people of this country to know, Sir, that 
 they may rely upon me ; that I will not desert them, that I am 
 resolved to stand by them, Sir, to the last." 
 
 " Your conduct is most noble, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick ; and he 
 grasped the hand of the magnanimous Pott. 
 
 " You are, Sir, I perceive, a man of sense and talent," said Mr. Pott, 
 almost breathless with the vehemence of his patriotic declaration. " I 
 am most happy, Sir, to make the acquaintance of such a man." 
 
 " And I," said Mr. Pickwick, " feel deeply honoured by this expres- 
 sion of your opinion. Allow me, Sir, to introduce you to my fellow- 
 travellers, the other corresponding members of the club I am proud to 
 have founded." 
 
 " I shall be delighted," said Mr. Pott. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick withdrew, and returning with his three friends, pre- 
 sented them in due form to the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette. 
 
 " Now my dear Pott," said little Mr. Perker, " the question is, what 
 are we to do with our friends here ? " 
 
 " We can stop in this house, I suppose," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Not a spare bed in the house, my dear Sir not a single bed." 
 
 " Extremely awkward," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Very ; " said his fellow- voyagers. 
 
 " I have an idea upon this subject," said Mr. Pott, " which I think 
 may be very successfully adopted. They have two beds at the Peacock, 
 and I can boldly say, on behalf of Mrs. Pott, that she will be delighted 
 to accommodate Mr. Pickwick and any one of his friends, if the other
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 125 
 
 two gentlemen and their servant do not object to shifting-, as they best 
 can, at the Peacock." 
 
 After repeated pressings on the part of Mr. Pott, and repeated pro- 
 testations on that of Mr. Pickwick that he could not think of incom- 
 moding or troubling his amiable wife, it was decided that this was the 
 only feasible arrangement that could be made. So it was made ; and 
 after dining together at the Town Arms, the friends separated, Mr. 
 Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass repairing to the Peacock, and Mr. Pick- 
 wick and Mr. Winkle proceeding to the mansion of Mr. Pott ; it having 
 been previously arranged that they should all re-assemble at the Town. 
 Arms in the morning, and accompany the honourable Samuel Slumkey's 
 procession to the place of nomination. 
 
 Mr. Pott's domestic circle was limited to himself and his wife. All 
 men whom mighty genius has raised to a proud eminence in the world, 
 have usually some little weakness which appears the more conspicuous 
 from the contrast it presents to their general character. If Mr. Pott 
 had a weakness, it was, perhaps, that he was rather too submissive to 
 the somewhat contemptuous controul and sway of his wife. We do not 
 feel justified in laying any particular stress upon the fact, because on 
 the present occasion all Mrs. Pott's most winning ways were brought 
 into requisition to receive the two gentlemen. 
 
 " My dear," said Mr. Pott, " Mr. Pickwick Mr. Pickwick of 
 London." 
 
 Mrs. Pott received Mr. Pickwick's paternal grasp of the hand with 
 enchanting sweetness : and Mr. Winkle, who had not been announced 
 at all, slided and bowed, unnoticed, in an obscure corner. 
 
 " P. my dear " said Mrs. Pott. 
 
 " My life," said Mr. Pott. 
 
 " Pray introduce the other gentleman." 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons," said Mr. Pott. " Permit me Mrs. 
 Pott, Mr. " 
 
 " Winkle," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Winkle," echoed Mr. Pott ; and the ceremony of introduction was 
 complete. 
 
 " W^ owe you many apologies, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, " for 
 disturbing your domestic arrangements at so short a notice.", 
 
 " I beg you won't mention it, Sir," replied the feminine Pott, with 
 vivacity. " It is a high treat to me, I assure you, to see any new 
 faces ; living as I do, from day to day, and week to week, in this dull 
 place, and seeing nobody." 
 
 " Nobody, my dear ! " exclaimed Mr. Pott, archly. 
 
 " Nobody but you," retorted Mrs. Pott, with asperity. 
 
 " You see, Mr. Pickwick," said the host in explanation of his wife's 
 lament, " that we are in some measure cut off from many enjoyments 
 and pleasures of which we might otherwise partake. My public station, 
 as editor of the Eatanswill Gazette, the position which that paper holds 
 in the country, my constant immersion in the vortex of politics " 
 
 " P. my dear " interposed Mrs. Pott. 
 
 " My life " said the editor.
 
 126 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I wish, my dear, you would endeavour to find some topic of conver- 
 sation in which these gentlemen might take some rational interest." 
 
 " But my love," said Mr. Pott, with great humility, " Mr. Pickwick 
 does take an interest in it." 
 
 " It's well for him if he can," said Mrs. Pott, emphatically ; " I am 
 wearied out of my life with your politics, and quarrels with the Inde- 
 pendent, and nonsense. I am quite astonished P. at your making such 
 an exhibition of your absurdity." 
 
 " But my dear" said Mr. Pott. 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, don't talk to me ; " said Mrs. Pott. " Do you play 
 ecarte, Sir ? " 
 
 " I shall be very happy to learn, under your tuition," replied Mr. 
 Winkle. 
 
 " Well, then, draw that little table into this window, and let me get 
 out of hearing of those prosy politics." 
 
 " Jane," said Mr. Pott, to the servant who brought in candles, " go 
 down into the office, and bring me up the file of the Gazette for 
 Eighteen Hundred and Twenty Eight. I'll just read you " added the 
 editor, turning to Mr. Pickwick, " I'll just read you a few of the leaders 
 I wrote at that time, upon the Buff job of appointing a new tollman to 
 the turnpike here ; I rather think they'll amuse you." 
 
 " I should like to hear them very much, indeed," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Up came the file, and down sat the editor, with Mr. Pickwick at his 
 side. 
 
 We have in vain pored over the leaves of Mr. Pickwick's note-book, 
 in the hope of meeting with a general summary of these beautiful com- 
 positions. We have every reason to believe that he was perfectly 
 enraptured with the vigour and freshness of the style ; indeed Mr. 
 Winkle has recorded the fact that his eyes were closed, as if with 
 excess of pleasure, during the whole time of their perusal. 
 
 The announcement of supper put a stop both to the game at ecarte, 
 and the recapitulation of the beauties of the Eatanswill Gazette. Mrs. 
 Pott was in the highest spirits and the most agreeable humour. Mr. 
 Winkle had already made considerable progress in her good opinion, 
 and she did not hesitate to inform him, confidentially, that Mr. Pickwick 
 was " a delightful old dear." These terms convey a familiarity of 
 expression, in which few of those who were intimately acquainted with 
 that colossal-minded man, would have presumed to indulge. We have 
 preserved them, nevertheless, as affording at once a touching and a con- 
 vincing proof of the estimation in which he was held by every class of 
 society, and the ease with which he made his way to their hearts and 
 feelings. 
 
 It was a late hour of the night long after Mr. Tupman and Mr. 
 Snodgrass had fallen asleep in the inmost recesses of the Peacock 
 when the two friends retired to rest. Slumber soon fell upon the senses 
 of Mr. Winkle, but his feelings had been excited, and his admiration 
 roused ; and for many hours after sleep had rendered him insensible to 
 earthly objects, the face and figure of the agreeable Mrs. Pott presented 
 themselves again and again to his wandering imagination.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 127 
 
 The noise and bustle which ushered in the morning, were sufficient 
 to dispel from the mind of the most romantic visionary in existence, 
 any associations but those which were immediately connected with the 
 rapidly-approaching 1 election. The beating of drums, the blowing of 
 horns and trumpets, the shouting of men, and tramping of horses, 
 echoed and re-echoed through the streets from the earliest dawn of day ; 
 and an occasional fight between the light skirmishers of either party, 
 at once enlivened the preparations, and agreeably diversified their cha- 
 racter. 
 
 " Well, Sara," said Mr. Pickwick, as his valet appeared at his bed- 
 room door, just as he was concluding his toilet; "all alive to-day, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " Reg'lar game, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; " our people's a col-lecting 
 down at the Town Arms, and they're a hollering themselves hoarse 
 already." 
 
 " Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, " do they seem devoted to their party, 
 Sam ? " 
 
 " Never see such dewotion in my life, Sir." 
 
 " Energetic, eh ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Uncommon," replied Sam ; " I never see men eat and drink so 
 much afore. I wonder they a'nt afeer'd o' bustin." 
 
 " That's the mistaken kindness of the gentry here," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick. 
 
 " Werry likely," replied Sam, briefly. 
 
 " Fine, fresh, hearty fellows they seem," said Mr. Pickwick, glancing 
 from the window. 
 
 " Werry fresh," replied Sam ; " me, and the two waiters at the Pea- 
 cock, has been a pumpin' over the independent woters as supped there 
 last night." 
 
 " Pumping over independent voters ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes," said his attendant, " every man slept vere he fell down ; we 
 dragged 'em out, one by one, this mornin' and put 'em under the pump, 
 and they're in reg'lar fine order, now. Shillin' a head the committee 
 paid for that 'ere job." 
 
 " Can such things be ! " exclaimed the astonished Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Lord bless your heart, Sir," said Sam, " why where was you half 
 baptized ? that's nothin', that a'nt." 
 
 " Nothing ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Nothin' at all, Sir," replied his attendant. " The night afore the 
 last day o' the last election here, the opposite party bribed the bar-maid 
 at the Town Arms, to hocus the brandy and water of fourteen unpolled 
 electors as was a stoppin' in the house." 
 
 " What do you mean by ' hocussing ' brandy and water ? " inquired 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Puttin' laud'num in it," replied Sam. " Blessed if she didn't send 
 'em all to sleep till twelve hours arter the election was over. They 
 took one man up to the booth, in a truck, fast asleep, by way of experi- 
 ment, but it was no go they wouldn't poll him ; so they brouglit him. 
 back, and put him to bed again."
 
 128 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OP 
 
 " Strange practices, these," said Mr. Pickwick ; half speaking to him- 
 self, and half addressing Sam. 
 
 " Not half so strange as a miraculous circumstance as happened to 
 my own father, at an election-time, in this wery place, Sir," replied 
 Sam. 
 
 " What was that ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Why he drove a coach down here once," said Sam ; " 'Lection time 
 came on, and he was engaged hy vun party to bring down woters from 
 London. Night afore he was a going to drive up, committee on t'other 
 side sends for him quietly, and away he goes vith the messenger, who 
 shows him in ; large room lots of genTm'n heaps of papers, 
 pens and ink, and all that 'ere. ' Ah, Mr. Weller,' says the 
 genTm'n in the chair, 'glad to see you, Sir; how are you? ' ' Werry 
 well, thank'ee, Sir,' says my father ; ' I hope you re pretty middlin,' says 
 he ' Pretty well, thank'ee, Sir,' says the genTm'n ; ' sit down, Mr. 
 Weller pray sit down, sir/ So my father sits down, and he and the 
 genTm'n looks wery hard at each other. ' You don't remember me ? ' 
 says the genTm'n ? ' Can't say I do,' says my father ' Oh, I know 
 you,' says the genTm'n ; ' know'd you ven you was a boy,' says he. 
 ' Well, I don't remember you,' says my father ' That's wery odd,' says 
 the genTm'n ' Wery,' says my father ' You must have a bad mem'ry 
 Mr. Weller/ says the genTm'n 'Well, it is a wery bad 'un/ says my 
 father ' I thought so/ says the genTm'n. So then they pours him 
 out a glass o' wine, and gammons him about his driving, and gets him 
 into a reg'lar good humour, and at last shoves a twenty pound note in 
 his hand. ' It's a werry bad road between this and London,' says the 
 genTm'n ' Here and there it is a wery heavy road/ says my 
 father ' 'Specially near the canal, I think,' says the genTm'n ' Nasty 
 bit, that 'ere,' says my father ' Well, Mr. Weller,' says the genTm'n, 
 ' you're a wery good whip, and can do what you like with your horses, 
 we kuow. We're all wery fond o' you, Mr. Weller, so in case you 
 should have an accident when you're a bringing these here woters down, 
 and should tip 'em over into the canal vithout hurtin' 'em, this is for 
 yourself/ says he ' GenTm'n, you're wery kind,' says my father, 
 ' and I'll drink your health in another glass of wine/ says he; vich he 
 did, and then buttons up the money, and bows himself out. You 
 vouldn't believe, Sir," continued Sam, with a look of inexpressible 
 impudence at his master, "that on the wery day as he came down 
 with them woters, his coach was upset on that 'ere wery spot, and ev'ry 
 man on 'em was turned into the canal." 
 
 " And got out again ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick, hastily. 
 
 " Why," replied Sam, very slowly, " I rather think one old gentle- 
 man was missin' ; I know his hat was found, but I a'n't quite certain 
 whether his head was in it or not. But what I look at, is the hex-tra- 
 ordinary, and wonderful coincidence, that arter what that genTm'n said 
 my father's coach should be upset in that wery place, and on that wery 
 day ! " 
 
 " It is, no doubt, a very extraordinary circumstance indeed," said 
 Mr. Pickwick. " But brush my hat, Sam, for I hear Mr. Winkle 
 calling me to breakfast."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 129 
 
 With these words Mr. Pickwick descended to the parlour, where he 
 found breakfast laid, and the family already assembled. The meal was 
 hastily despatched ; each of the gentlemen's hats was decorated with an 
 enormous blue favour, made up by the fair hands of Mrs. Pott herself, 
 and as Mr. Winkle had undertaken to escort that lady to a house top, 
 in the immediate vicinity of the hustings, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Pott 
 repaired alone to the Town Arms, from tbe back window of which, one 
 of Mr. Slumkey's committee was addressing six small boys, and one 
 girl, whom he dignified, at every second sentence, with the imposing 
 title of " men of Eatanswill/' whereat the six small boys aforesaid 
 cheered prodigiously. 
 
 The stable-yard exhibited unequivocal symptoms of the glory and 
 strength of the Eatanswill Blues. There was a regular army of blue 
 flags, some with one handle, and some with two, exhibiting appropriate 
 devices, in golden characters four feet -high, and stout in proportion. 
 There was a grand band of trumpets, bassoons and drums, marshalled 
 four abreast, and earning their money, if ever men did, especially tbe 
 drum beaters, who were very muscular. There were bodies of constables 
 with blue staves, twenty committee-men with blue scarfs, and a mob of 
 voters with blue cockades. There were electors on horseback, and 
 electors a-foot. There was an open carriage and four, for the honour- 
 able Samuel Slumkey; and there were four carriages and pair, for his 
 friends and supporters : and the flags were rustling, and the band was 
 playing, and the constables were swearing, and the twenty committee- 
 men were squabbling, and the mob were shopting, and the horses were 
 hacking, and the post-boys perspiring; and everybody, and everything, 
 then and there assembled, was for the special use, behoof, honour, and 
 renown, of the honourable Samuel Slumkey of Slumkey Hall, one of 
 the candidates for the representation of the Borough of Eatanswill, in 
 the Commons House of Parliament of the United Kingdom. 
 
 Loud and long were the cheers, and mighty was the rustling of one 
 of the blue flags, with " Liberty of the Press " inscribed thereon, when 
 the sandy head of Mr. Pott was discerned in one of the windows, by 
 the mob beneath ; and tremendous was the enthusiasm when the 
 honourable Samuel Slumkey himself, iu top boots, and a blue necker- 
 chief, advanced and seized the hand of the said Pott, and melo-dramati- 
 cally testified by gestures to the crowd, his ineffaceable obligations to the 
 Eatanswill Gazette. 
 
 "Is everything ready ? " said the honourable Samuel Slumkey to Mr. 
 Perker. 
 
 " Everything, my dear Sir," was the little man's reply. 
 
 " Nothing has been omitted, I hope ? " said the honourable Samuel 
 Slumkey. 
 
 " Nothing has been left undone, my dear Sir nothing whatever. 
 There are twenty washed men at the street door for you to shake hands 
 with ; and six children in arms that you're to pat on the head, and 
 inquire the age of; be particular about the children, my dear Sir, it 
 has always a great effect, that sort of thing.* 
 
 " I'll take care," said the honourable Samuel Slumkey.
 
 130 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 And, perhaps, my dear Sir" said the cautious little man, per- 
 haps if you could I don't mean to say it's indispensable but if you 
 could manage to kiss one of 'em, it would produce a very great impres- 
 sion on the crowd." 
 
 " Wouldn't it have as good an effect if the proposer or seconder did 
 that ? " said the honourable Samuel Slumkey. 
 
 " Why, I am afraid it wouldn't," replied the agent ; " if it were done 
 by yourself, my dear Sir, I think it would make you very popular." 
 
 " Very well," said the honourable Samuel Slumkey, with a resigned 
 air, " then it must be done. That's all." 
 
 " Arrange the procession," cried the twenty committee-men. 
 
 Amidst the cheers of the assembled throng, the band, and the con- 
 stables, and the committee-men, and the voters, and the horsemen, and 
 the carriages, took their places each of the two-horse vehicles being 
 closely packed with as many gentlemen as could manage to stand 
 upright in it ; and that assigned to Mr. Perker, containing Mr. 
 Pickwick, Mr. Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and about half a dozen of the 
 committee beside. 
 
 There was a moment of awful suspense as the procession waited for 
 the honourable Samuel Slumkey to step into his carriage. Suddenly 
 the crowd set up a great cheering. 
 
 " He has come out," said little Mr. Perker, greatly excited ; the more 
 so as their position did not enable them to see what was going forward. 
 
 Another cheer, much louder. 
 
 " He has shaken hands with the men," cried the little agent. 
 
 Another cheer, far more vehement. 
 
 " He has patted the babes on the head," said Mr. Perker, trembling 
 with anxiety. 
 
 A roar of applause that rent the air. 
 
 " He has kissed one of 'em ! " exclaimed the delighted little man. 
 
 A second roar. 
 
 " He has kissed another," gasped the excited manager. 
 
 A third roar. 
 
 " He's kissing 'em all ! " screamed the enthusiastic little gentleman. 
 And hailed by the deafening shouts of the multitude, the procession 
 moved on. 
 
 How or by what means it became mixed up with the other procession, 
 and how it was ever extricated from the confusion consequent there- 
 upon, is more than we can undertake to describe, inasmuch as Mr. 
 Pickwick's hat was knocked over his eyes, nose, and mouth, by one poke 
 of a Buff flag staff, very early in the proceedings. He describes himself 
 as being surrounded on every side, when he could catch a glimpse of the 
 scene, by angry and ferocious countenances, by a vast cloud of dust, 
 and by a dense crowd of combatants. He represents himself as being 
 forced from the carriage by some unseen power, and being personally 
 engaged in a pugilistic encounter ; but with whom, or how, or why. he 
 is wholly unable to state. He then felt himself forced up some wooden 
 steps by the persons from behind: and on removing his hat, found him- 
 self surrounded by his friends, in the very front of the left hand side of
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. J31 
 
 the hustings. The right was reserved for the Buff party, and the centre 
 for the mayor and his officers ; one of whom the fat crier of Eatanswill 
 was ringing- an enormous bell, by way of commanding silence, while 
 Mr. Horatio Fizkin, and the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, with their 
 hands upon their hearts, were bowing with the utmost affability to the 
 troubled sea of heads that inundated the open space in front ; and from 
 whence arose a storm of groans, and shouts, and yells, and hootings, 
 that would have done honour to an earthquake. 
 
 " There's Winkle," said Mr. Tupman, pulling his friend by the 
 sleeve. 
 
 " Where?" said Mr. Pickwick, putting on his spectacles, which he 
 had fortunately kept in his pocket hitherto. 
 
 " There," said Mr. Tupman, " on the top of that house." And 
 there sure enough, in the leaden gutter of a tiled roof, were Mr. Winkle 
 and Mrs. Pott, comfortably seated in a couple of chairs, waving their 
 handkerchiefs in token of recognition a compliment which Mr. Pick- 
 wick returned by kissing his hand to the lady. 
 
 The proceedings had not yet commenced ; and as an inactive crowd is 
 generally disposed to be jocose, this very innocent action was sufficient 
 to awaken their facetiousness. 
 
 " Oh you wicked old rascal," cried one voice, " looking arter the 
 girls, are you ? " 
 
 " Oh you wenerable sinner," cried another. 
 
 " Putting on his spectacles to look at a married 'ooman ! " said a 
 third. 
 
 " I see him a vinkin' at her, vith his vicked old eye," shouted a 
 fourth. 
 
 " Look arter your wife, Pott," bellowed a fifth ; and then there was 
 a roar of laughter. 
 
 As these taunts were accompanied with invidious comparisons 
 between Mr. Pickwick and an aged ram, and several witticisms of the 
 like nature ; and as they moreover rather tended to convey reflections 
 upon the honour of an innocent lady, Mr. Pickwick's indignation was 
 excessive ; but as silence was proclaimed at the moment, he contented 
 himself by scorching the mob with a look of pity for their misguided 
 minds, at which they laughed more boisterously than ever. 
 
 " Silence," roared the mayor's attendants. 
 
 " Whiffin, proclaim silence," said the mayor, with an air of pomp 
 befitting his lofty station. In obedience to this command the crier per- 
 formed another concerto on the bell, whereupon a gentleman in the 
 crowd called out " muffins ;" which occasioned another laugh. 
 
 " Gentlemen," -said the Mayor, at as loud a pitch as he could possibly 
 force his voice to, " Gentlemen. Brother electors of the Borough of 
 Eatanswill. We are met here to-day, for the purpose of choosing a 
 representative in the room of our late " 
 
 Here the Mayor was interrupted by a voice in the crowd. 
 
 " Sue-cess to the Mayor ! " cried the voice, " and may he never 
 desert the nail and sarspan business, as he got his money by." 
 
 This allusion to the professional pursuits of the orator was received
 
 132 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 with a storm of delight, which, with a bell-accompaniment, rendered 
 the remainder of his speech inaudible, with the exception of the con- 
 cluding sentence, in which he thanked the meeting for the patient 
 attention with which they had heard him throughout, an expression of 
 gratitude which elicited another burst of mirth, of about a quarter of an 
 hour's duration. 
 
 Next, a tall thin gentleman, in a very stiff white neckerchief, after 
 being repeatedly desired by the crowd to " send a boy home, to ask 
 whether he hadn't left his woice under the pillow," begged to nominate 
 a fit and proper person to represent them in Parliament. And when 
 he said it was Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, near Eatanswill, 
 the Fizkinites applauded, and the Slumkeyites groaned, so long, and so 
 loudly, that both he and the seconder might have sung comic songs in 
 lieu of speaking, without anybody's being a bit the wiser. 
 
 The friends of Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, having had their innings, a 
 little choleric, pink-faced man stood forward to propose another fit and 
 proper person to represent the electors of Eatanswill in Parliament ; 
 and very swimmingly the pink-faced gentleman would have got on, if 
 he had not been rather too choleric to entertain a sufficient perception 
 of the fun of the crowd. But after a very few sentences of figurative 
 eloquence, the pink-faced gentleman got from denouncing those who 
 interrupted him in the mob, to exchanging defiances with the gentle- 
 men on the hustings ; whereupon arose an uproar which reduced him to 
 the necessity of expressing his feelings by serious pantomime, which he 
 did, and then left the stage to his seconder, who delivered a written 
 speech of half an hour's length, and wouldn't be stopped, because he had 
 sent it all to the Eatanswill Gazette, and the Eatanswill Gazette had 
 printed it, every word. 
 
 Then Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, near Eatanswill, 
 presented himself for the purpose of addressing the electors ; which he 
 no sooner did, than the band employed by the honourable Samuel 
 Slumkey, commenced performing with a power to which their strength 
 in the morning was a trifle ; in return for which, the Buff crowd bela- 
 boured the heads and shoulders of the Blue crowd; on which the Blue 
 crowd endeavoured to dispossess themselves of their very unpleasant 
 neighbours the Buff crowd ; and a scene of struggling, and pushing, and 
 fighting, succeeded, to which we can no more do justice than the Mayor 
 could, although he issued imperative orders to twelve constables to seize 
 the ring-leaders, who might amount in number to two hundred and 
 fifty, or thereabouts. At all these encounters, Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, 
 of Fizkin Lodge, and his friends, waxed fierce and furious ; until at last 
 Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, begged to ask his opponent, 
 the honourable Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey Hall, whether that 
 band played by his consent ; which question the honourable Samuel 
 Slumkey declining to answer, Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, 
 shook his fist in the countenance of the honourable Samuel Slumkey, of 
 Slumkey Hall ; upon which the honourable Samuel Slumkey, his blood 
 being up, defied Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, to mortal combat. At this 
 violation of all known rules and precedents of order, the Mayor 
 commanded another fantasia on the bell, and declared that he would
 
 
 'S^
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 133 
 
 bring- before himself, both Horatio Fizkin, Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge* 
 and the honourable Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey Hall, and bind them 
 over to keep the peace. Upon this terrific denunciation, the supporters 
 of the two candidates interfered, and after the friends of each party hud 
 quarrelled in pairs for three-quarters of an hour, Horatio Fizkin, 
 Esquire, touched his hat to the honourable Samuel Slumkey : the 
 honourable Samuel Slumkey touched his to Horatio Fizkin, Esquire : 
 the band was stopped, the crowd were partially quieted, and Horatio 
 Fizkin, Esquire, was permitted to proceed. 
 
 The speeches of the two candidates, though differing in every other 
 respect, afforded a beautiful tribute to the merit and high worth of the 
 electors of Eatanswill. Both expressed their opinion that a more inde- 
 pendent, a more enlightened, a more public-spirited, a more noble- 
 minded, a more disinterested set of men than those who had promised 
 to vote for him, never existed on earth ; each darkly hinted his suspi- 
 cions that the electors in the opposite interest had certain swinish and 
 besotted infirmities which rendered them unfit for the exercise of the 
 important duties they were called upon to discharge. Fizkin expressed 
 his readiness to do anything he was wanted ; Slumkey, his determina- 
 tion to do nothing that was asked of him. Both said that the trade, the 
 manufactures, the commerce, the prosperity, of Eatanswill, would ever 
 be dearer to their hearts than any earthly object ; and each had it in his 
 power to state, with the utmost confidence, that he was the man who 
 would eventually be returned. 
 
 There was a show of hands ; the Mayor decided in favour of the 
 honourable Samuel Slumkey, of Slumkey Hall. Horatio Fizkin, 
 Esquire, of Fizkin Lodge, demanded a poll, and a poll was fixed accord- 
 ingly. Then a vote of thanks was moved to the Mayor for his able 
 conduct in the chair ; and the Mayor devoutly wishing that he had had 
 a chair to display his able conduct in (for he had been standing during 
 the whole proceedings) returned thanks. The processions re-formed, 
 the carriages rolled slowly through the crowd, and its members screeched 
 and shouted after them as their feelings or caprice dictated. 
 
 During the whole time of the polling, the town was in a perpetual 
 fever of excitement. Everything was conducted on the most liberal 
 and delightful scale. Exciseable articles were remarkably cheap at all 
 the public houses ; and spring vans paraded the streets for the accom- 
 modation of voters who were seized with any temporary dizziness in the 
 head an epidemic which prevailed among the electors, during the 
 contest, to a most alarming extent, and under the influence of which 
 they might frequently be seen lying on the pavements in a state of 
 litter insensibility. A small body of electors remained unpolled on the 
 very last day. They were calculating and reflecting persons, who had 
 not yet been convinced by the arguments of either party, although they 
 had had frequent conferences with each. One hour before the close of 
 the poll, Mr. Perker solicited the honour of a private interview with 
 these intelligent, these noble, these patriotic men. It was granted 
 His arguments were brief, but satisfactory. They went in a body to 
 the poll ; and when they returned, the honourable Samuel Slumkey, 
 of Slumkey Hall, was returned also. 
 
 N2
 
 134 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 COMPRISING A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF THE COMPANY AT THE 
 PEACOCK ASSEMBLED; AND A TALE TOLD BY A BAGMAN. 
 
 IT is pleasant to turn from contemplating the strife and turmoil of 
 political existence, to the peaceful repose of private life. Although in 
 reality no great partisan of either side, Mr. Pickwick was sufficiently 
 fired with Mr. Pott's enthusiasm, to apply his whole time and attention 
 to the proceedings, of which the last chapter affords a description com- 
 piled from his own memoranda. Nor while he was thus occupied was 
 Mr. Winkle idle, his' whole time being devoted to pleasant walks and 
 short country excursions with Mrs. Pott, who never failed, when such 
 an opportunity presented itself, to seek some relief from the tedious 
 monotony she so constantly complained of. The two gentlemen being 
 thus completely domesticated in the Editor's house, Mr. Tupman and 
 Mr. Snodgrass w y ere in a great measure cast upon their own resources. 
 Taking but little interest in public affairs, they beguiled their time chiefly 
 with such amusements as the Peacock afforded, which were limited to 
 a bagatelle-board in the first floor, and a sequestered skittle-ground in the 
 hack yard. In the science and nicety cf both these recreations, which 
 are far more abstruse than ordinary men suppose, they were gradually 
 initiated by Mr. Weller, who possessed a perfect knowledge of such 
 pastimes. Thus, notwithstanding that they were in a great measure 
 deprived of the comfort and advantage of Mr. Pickwick's society, they 
 were still enabled to beguile the time, and to prevent its hanging heavily 
 on their hands. 
 
 It was in the evening, however, that the Peacock presented attrac- 
 tions which enabled the two friends to resist, even the invitations of 
 the talented, though prosily inclined, Mr. Pott. It was in the evening 
 that the " commercial room" was filled with a social circle, whose 
 characters and manners it was the delight of Mr. Tupman to observe ; 
 whose sayings and doings it was the habit of Mr. Snodgrass to note 
 down. 
 
 Most people know what sort of places commercial rooms usually are. 
 That of the Peacock differed in no material respect from the generality 
 of such apartments ; that is to say, it was a large bare-looking room, 
 the furniture of which had no doubt been better when it was newer, 
 with a spacious table in the centre, and a variety of smaller dittos in 
 the corners : an extensive assortment of variously shaped chairs, and an 
 old Turkey carpet, bearing about the same relative proportion to the 
 size of the room, as a lady's pocket-handkerchief might to the floor of a 
 watch-box. The walls were garnished with one or two large maps ; 
 and several weather-beaten rough great coats, with complicated capes,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 135 
 
 dangled from a long row of pegs in one corner. The mantel-shelf was 
 ornamented with a wooden inkstand, containing one stump of a pen and 
 half a wafer, a road-book and directory, a county history minus the 
 cover, and the mortal remains of a trout in a glass coffin. The atmo- 
 sphere was redolent of tobacco-smoke, the fumes of which had commu- 
 nicated a rather dingy hue to the whole room, and more especially to 
 the dusty red curtains which shaded the windows. On the sideboard, a 
 variety of miscellaneous articles were huddled together, the most con- 
 spicuous of which were some very cloudy fish-sauce cruets, a couple of 
 driving-boxes, two or three whips, and as many travelling shawls, a 
 tray of knives and forks, and the mustard. 
 
 Here it was that Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass were seated on 
 the evening after the conclusion of the election, with several other 
 temporary inmates of the house, smoking and drinking. 
 
 " Well gents," said a stout, hale personage of about forty, with only 
 one eye a very bright black eye, which twinkled with a roguish expres- 
 sion of fun and good humour, " Our noble selves, gents. I always 
 propose that toast to the company, and drink Mary to myself. Eh, 
 Mary?" 
 
 " Get along with you, you wretch," said the hand-maiden, obviously 
 not ill pleased with the compliment, however. 
 
 " Don't go away, Mary," said the black-eyed man. 
 
 " Let me alone, imperence," said the young lady. 
 
 " Never mind," said the one-eyed man, calling after the girl as she 
 left the room. " I'll step out by and by, Mary. Keep your spirits 
 up, dear." Here he went through the not very difficult process of 
 winking upon the company with his solitary eye, to the enthusiastic 
 delight of an elderly personage with a dirty face and a clay pipe. 
 
 " Rum creeters is women," said the dirty-faced man, after a pause. 
 
 " Ah I no mistake about that," said a very red- faced man, behind a 
 cigar. 
 
 After this little bit of philosophy there was another pause. 
 
 " There's rummer things than women in this world though, mind 
 you," said the man with the black eye, slowly filling a large Dutch 
 pipe, with a most capacious bowl. 
 
 " Are you married ? " inquired the dirty-faced man. 
 
 Can't say I am." 
 
 " I thought not." Here the dirty-faced man fell into extasies of 
 mirth at his own retort, in which he was joined by a man of bland voice 
 and placid countenance, who always made it a point to agree with 
 everybody. 
 
 " Women after all, gentlemen," said the enthusiastic Mr. Snodgrass, 
 " are the great props and comforts of our existence." 
 
 " So they are," said the placid gentleman. 
 
 " When they're in a good humour," interposed the dirty-faced man. 
 
 " And that's very true," said the placid one. 
 
 " I repudiate that qualification," said Mr. Snodgrass, whose thoughts 
 were fast reverting to Emily Wardle, " I repudiate it with disdain with 
 indignation. Show me the man who says anything against women, as
 
 136 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OP 
 
 women, and I boldly declare he is not a man." And Mr. Snodgrass 
 took his cigar from his mouth, and struck the table violently with his 
 clenched fist. 
 
 " That's good sound argument," said the placid man. 
 
 " Containing a position which I deny," interrupted he of the dirty 
 countenance. 
 
 " And there's certainly a very great deal of truth in what you observe 
 too, Sir," said the placid gentleman. 
 
 " Your health, Sir," said the bagman with the lonely eye, bestowing 
 an approving nod on Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass acknowledged the compliment. 
 
 " I always like to hear a good argument," continued the bagman, " a 
 sharp one, like this ; it's very improving ; but this little argument about 
 women brought to my mind a story I have heard an old uncle of mine 
 tell, the recollection of which, just now, made me say there were rummer 
 things than women to be met with, sometimes." 
 
 " I should like to hear that same story," said the red-faced man with 
 the cigar. 
 
 " Should you ? " was the only reply of the bagman, who continued to 
 smoke with great vehemence. 
 
 " So should I," said Mr. Tupman, speaking for the first time. lie 
 was always anxious to increase his stock of experience. 
 
 " Should you ? Well then, I'll tell it. No I won't. I know you 
 won't believe it," said the man with the roguish eye, making that organ 
 look more roguish than ever. 
 
 " If you say it's true, of course I shall," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Well, upon that understanding I'll tell it," replied the traveller. 
 te Did you ever hear of the great commercial house of Bilson and 
 Slum ? But it doesn't matter though, whether you did or not, because 
 they retired from business long since. It's eighty years ago, since the 
 circumstance happened to a traveller for that house, but he was a par- 
 ticular 'friend of my uncle's : and my uncle told the story to me. It's 
 a queer, name ; but he used to call it 
 
 THE BAGMAN'S STORY, 
 
 and he used to tell it, something in this way. 
 
 " One winter's evening, about five o'clock, just as it began to grow 
 dusk, a man in a gig might have been seen urging his tired horse along 
 the road which leads across Marlborough Downs, in the direction of 
 Bristol. I say he might have been seen, and I have no doubt he 
 would have been, if anybody but a blind man had happened to pass 
 that way ; but the weather was so bad, and the night so cold and wet, 
 that nothing was out but the water, and so the traveller jogged along 
 in the middle of the road, lonesome and dreary enough. If any bagman 
 of that day could have caught sight of the little neck-or-nothing sort 
 of gig, with a clay-coloured body and red wheels, and the vixenish ill- 
 tempered, fast-going bay mare, that looked like a cross between a 
 butcher's horse and a twopenny post-office pony, he would have 
 known at once, that this traveller could have been no other than Tom
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 137 
 
 Smart, of the great house of Bilson and Slum, Cateaton Street, City. 
 However, as there was no bagman to look on, nobody knew anything at 
 all about the matter; and so Tom Smart and his clay-coloured gig 
 with the red wheels, and the vixenish mare with the fast pace, went on. 
 together, keeping the secret among them, and nobody was a bit the wiser. 
 " There are many pleasanter places even in this dreary world, than 
 Marlborough Downs when it blows hard ; and if you throw in beside, a 
 gloomy winter's evening, a miry and sloppy road, and a pelting fall of 
 heavy rain, and try the effect, by way of experiment, in your own 
 proper person, you will experience the full force of this observation. 
 
 " The wind blew not up the road or down it, though that's bad 
 enough, but sheer across it, sending the rain slanting down like the 
 lines they used to rule in the copybooks at school, to make the boys slope 
 well. For a moment it would die away, and the traveller would begin, 
 to delude himself into the belief that, exhausted with its previous fury, 
 it had quietly lain itself down to rest, when, whoo ! he would hear it 
 growling and whistling in the distance, and on it would come rushing 
 over the hill-tops, and sweeping along the plain, gathering sound and 
 strength as it drew nearer, until it dashed with a heavy gust against 
 horse and man, driving the sharp rain into their ears, and its cold damp 
 breath into their very bones ; and past them it would scour, far, far 
 away, with a stunning roar, as if in ridicule of their weakness, and 
 triumphant in the consciousness of its own strength and power. 
 
 " The bay mare splashed away, through the mud and water, with 
 drooping ears, now and then tossing her head as if to express her dis- 
 gust at this very ungentlemanly behaviour of the elements, but keeping 
 a good pace notwithstanding, until a gust of wind, more furious than 
 any that had yet assailed them, caused her to stop suddenly, and plant 
 her four feet firmly against the ground, to prevent her being blown 
 over. It's a special mercy that she did this, for if she had been blown 
 over, the vixenish mare was so light, and the gig was so light, and 
 Tom Smart such a light weight into the bargain, that they must infal- 
 libly have all gone rolling over and over together, until they reached 
 the confines of earth, or until the wind fell ; and in either case the 
 probability is, that neither the vixenish mare, nor the clay-coloured gig 
 with the red wheels, nor Tom Smart, would ever have been fit for 
 service again. 
 
 " < Well, damn my straps and whiskers,' says Tom Smart, (Tom 
 sometimes had an unpleasant knack of swearing), ' Damn my straps and 
 whiskers,' says Tom, ' if this ain't pleasant, blow me.' 
 
 " You'll very likely ask me, why, as Tom Smart had been pretty 
 well blown already, he expressed this wish to be submitted to the same 
 process again. I can't say all I know is, that Tom Smart said so 
 or at least he always told my uncle he said so, and it's just the same 
 thing. 
 
 " ' Blow me,' says Tom Smart ; and the mare neighed as if she were 
 precisely of the same opinion. 
 
 " ' Cheer up old girl,' said Tom, patting the bay mare on the neck 
 with the end of his whip. ' It won't do pushing on, such a night as
 
 138 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 this ; the first house we come to we'll put up at, so the faster you go 
 the sooner it's over. Soho, old girl gently gently.' 
 
 " Whether the vixenish mare was sufficiently well acquainted with 
 the tones of Tom's voice to comprehend his meaning, or whether she 
 found it colder standing still than moving on, of course I can't say. 
 But I can say that Tom had no sooner finished speaking, than she 
 pricked up her ears, and started forward at a speed which made the 
 clay-coloured gig rattle till you would have supposed every one of the 
 red spokes was going to fly out on the turf of Marlborough Downs ; 
 and even Tom, whip as he was, couldn't stop or check her pace, until 
 she drew up, of her own accord, before a road-side inn on the right- 
 hand side of the way, about half a quarter of a mile from the end of 
 the Downs. 
 
 " Tom cast a hasty glance at the upper part of the house as he 
 threw the reins to the hostler, and stuck the whip in the box. It was 
 a strange old place, built of a kind of shingle, inlaid, as it were, with 
 cross-beams, with gable-topped windows projecting completely over 
 the pathway, and a low door with a dark porch, and a couple of steep 
 steps leading down into the house, instead of the modern fashion of 
 .half a dozen shallow ones, leading up to it. It was a comfortable-looking 
 place though, for there was a strong cheerful light in the bar-window, 
 w.hich shed a bright ray across the road, and even lighted up the hedge 
 on the other side ; and there was a red flickering light in the opposite 
 window, one moment but faintly discernible, and the next gleaming 
 strongly through the drawn curtains, which intimated that a rousing 
 fire was blazing within. Marking these little evidences with the eye of 
 an experienced traveller, Tom dismounted with as much agility as his 
 half-frozen limbs would permit, and entered the house. 
 
 *' In less than five minutes' time, Tom was ensconced in the room 
 opposite the bar the very room where he had imagined the fire 
 blazing before a substantial matter-of-fact roaring fire, composed of 
 something short of a bushel of coals, and wood enough to make half a 
 dozen decent gooseberry-bushes, piled half way up the chimney, and 
 roaring and crackling with a sound that of itself would have warmed 
 the heart of any reasonable man. This was comfortable, but this was 
 not all, for a smartly dressed girl, with a bright eye and a neat ankle, 
 was laying a very clean white cloth on the table ; and as Tom sat with 
 his slippered feet on the fender, and his hack to the open door, he saw 
 a charming prospect of the bar reflected in the glass over the chimney- 
 piece, with delightful rows of green bottles and gold labels, together 
 with jars of pickles and preserves, and cheeses and boiled hams, and 
 rounds of beef, arranged on shelves in the most tempting and delicious 
 array. Well, this was comfortable too ; but even this was not all 
 for in the bar, seated at tea at the nicest possible little table, drawn 
 close up before the brightest possible little fire, was a buxom widow 
 of somewhere about eight and forty or thereabouts, with a face as 
 comfortable as the bar, who was evidently the landlady of the house, 
 and the supreme ruler over all these agreeable possessions. There 
 Mas only one drawback to the beauty of the whole picture, and that
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 139 
 
 was a tall man a very tall man in a brown coat and bright basket 
 buttons, and black whiskers, and wavy black hair, who was seated at 
 tea with the widow, and who it required no great penetration to dis- 
 cover was in a fair way of persuading her to be a widow no longer, but 
 to confer upon him the privilege of sitting down in that bar, for and 
 during the whole remainder of the term of his natural life. 
 
 " Tom Smart was by no means of an irritable or envious disposition, 
 but somehow or other the tall man with the brown coat and the bright 
 basket buttons did rouse what little gall he had in his composition, and 
 did make him feel extremely indignant, the more especially as he could 
 now and then observe, from his seat before the glass, certain little affec- 
 tionate familiarities passing between the tall man and the widow, which 
 sufficiently denoted that the tall man was as high in favour as he was 
 in size. Tom was fond of hot punch I may venture to say he was 
 very fond of hot punch and after he had seen the vixenish mare well 
 fed and well littered down, and eaten every bit of the nice little hot 
 dinner which the widow tossed up for him with her own hands, he just 
 ordered a tumbler of it, by way of experiment. Now if there was one 
 thing in the whole range of domestic art, which the widow could manu- 
 facture better than another, it was this identical article ; and the first 
 tumbler was adapted to Tom Smart's taste with such peculiar nicety, 
 that he ordered a second with the least possible delay. Hot punch is 
 a pleasant thing, gentlemen an extremely pleasant thing under any 
 circumstances but in that snug old parlour, before the roaring fire, 
 with the wind blowing outside till every timber in the old house 
 creaked again, Tom Smart found it perfectly delightful. He ordered 
 another tumbler, and then another 1 am not quite certain whether he 
 didn't order another after that but the more he drank of the hot 
 punch the more he thought of the tall man. 
 
 " ' Confound his impudence,' said Tom Smart to himself, ' what 
 business has he in that snug bar ? Such an ugly villain too ! ' said 
 Tom. ' If the widow had any taste, she might surely pick up some 
 better fellow than that.' Here Tom's -ye wandered from the glass on 
 the chimney-piece, to the glass on the table, and as he felt himself 
 becoming gradually sentimental, he emptied the fourth tumbler of 
 punch and ordered a fifth. 
 
 " Tom Smart, gentlemen, had always been very much attached to 
 the public line. It had long been his ambition to stand in a bar of his 
 own, in a green coat, knee-cords, and tops. He had a great notion of 
 taking the chair at convivial dinners, and he had often thought how 
 well he could preside in a room of his own in the talking way, and what 
 a capital example he could set to his customers in the drinking depart- 
 ment. All these things passed rapidly through Tom's mind as he sat 
 drinking the hot punch by the roaring fire, and he felt very justly and 
 properly indignant that the tall man should be in a fair way of keeping 
 such an excellent house, while he, Tom Smart, was as far off from it as 
 ever. So, after deliberating over the two last tumblers, whether he 
 hadn't a perfect right to pick a quarrel with the tall man for having 
 contrived to get into the good graces of the buxom widow, Tom Smart
 
 140 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 at last arrived at the satisfactory conclusion that he was a very ill-used 
 and persecuted individual, and had better go to bed. 
 
 " Up a wide and ancient staircase the smart girl preceded Tom, shading 
 the chamber candle with her hand, to protect it from the currents of 
 air which in such a rambling old place might have found plenty of 
 room to disport themselves in, without blowing the candle out, but 
 which did blow it out nevertheless ; thus affording Tom's enemies an 
 opportunity of asserting that it was he, and not the wind, who extin- 
 guished the candle, and that while he pretended to be blowing it a-light 
 again, he was in fact kissing the girl. Be this as it may, another light 
 was obtained, and Tom was conducted through a maze of rooms, and a 
 labyrinth of passages, to the apartment which had been prepared for his 
 reception, where the girl bid him good night, and left him alone. 
 
 " It was a good large room with big closets, and a bed which might have 
 served for a whole boarding-school, to say nothing of a couple of oaken 
 presses that would have held the baggage of a small army ; but what 
 struck Tom's fancy most, was a strange, grim-looking, high-backed 
 chair, carved in the most fantastic manner, with a flowered damask 
 cushion, and the round knobs at the bottom of the legs carefully tied 
 up in red cloth, as if it had got the gout in its toes. Of any other 
 queer chair, Tom would only have thought it was a queer chair, and 
 there would have been an end of the matter ; but there was something 
 about this particular chair, and yet he couldn't tell what it was, so odd 
 and so unlike any other piece of furniture he had ever seen, that it 
 seemed to fascinate him. He sat down before the fire, and stared at 
 the old chair for half an hour ; Damn the chair, it was such a strange 
 old thing, he couldn't take his eyes off it. 
 
 " ' Well,' said Tom, slowly undressing himself, and staring at the old 
 chair all the while, which stood with a mysterious aspect by the bed- 
 side, ' I never saw such a rum concern as that in my days. .Very odd,' 
 said Tom, who had got rather sage with the hot punch, < Very odd.' 
 Tom shook his head with an air of profound wisdom, and looked at the 
 chair again. He couldn't maki- anything of it though, so he got into 
 bed, covered himself up warm, and fell asleep. 
 
 " In about half an hour, Tom woke up with a start, from a confused 
 dream of tall men and tumblers of punch : and the first object that pre- 
 sented itself to his waking imagination was the queer chair. 
 
 " ' I won't look at it any more/ said Tom to himself, and he squeezed 
 his eyelids together, and tried to persuade himself he was going to sleep 
 again. No use ; nothing but queer chairs danced before his eyes, kick- 
 ing up their legs, jumping over each other's backs, and playing all kinds 
 of antics. 
 
 " I may as well see one real chair, as two or three complete sets of 
 false ones,' said Tom, bringing out his head from under the bed-clothes. 
 There it was, plainly discernible by the light of the fire, looking as pro- 
 voking as ever. 
 
 " Tom gazed at the chair ; and, suddenly as he looked at it, a most 
 extraordinary change seemed to come over it. The carving of the back 
 gradually assumed the lineaments and expression of an old, shrivelled
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 141 
 
 human face ; the damask cushion became an antique, flapped waistcoat J 
 the round knobs grew into a couple of feet, encased in red cloth slippers, 
 and the whole chair looked like a very ugly old man, of the previous 
 century, with his arms a-kimbo. Tom sat up in bed, and rubbed his 
 eyes to dispel the illusion. No. The chair was an ugly old gentle- 
 man ; and what was more, he was winking at Tom Smart. 
 
 " Tom was naturally a headlong, careless sort of dog, and he had had 
 five tumblers of hot punch into the bargain ; so, although he was a little 
 startled at first, he began to grow rather indignant when he saw the old 
 gentleman winking and leering at him with such an impudent air. At 
 length he resolved that he wouldn't stand it ; and as the old face still 
 kept winking away as fast as ever, Tom said, in a very angry tone 
 
 " ' What the devil are you winking at me for? ' 
 
 " ' Because I like it, Tom Smart,' said the chair ; or the old gentle- 
 man, whichever you like to call him. He stopped winking though, 
 when Tom spoke, and began grinning like a superannuated monkey. 
 
 " ' How do you know my name, old nut-cracker face ? ' inquired Tom 
 Smart, rather staggered; though he pretended to carry it off so well. 
 
 " ' Come, come Tom,' said the old gentleman, ' that's not the way to 
 address solid Spanish Mahogany. Dam'me, you couldn't treat me 
 with less respect if I was veneered.' When the old gentleman said 
 this, he looked so fierce that Tom began to grow frightened. 
 
 " ' I didn't mean to treat you with any disrespect, Sir,' said Tom ; in 
 a much humbler tone than he had spoken in at first. 
 
 " ' Well, well/ said the old fellow, ' perhaps not perhaps not. 
 Tom ' 
 
 < Sir ' 
 
 " * I know everything about you, Tom ; everything. You're very 
 poor Tom.' 
 
 " ' I certainly am,' said Tom Smart. ' But how came you to know 
 that?' 
 
 " ' Never mind that,' said the old gent^gman ; < you're much too fond 
 of punch, Tom.' 
 
 " Tom Smart was just on the point oPpFotesting that he hadn't tasted 
 a drop since his last birth-day, but when his eye encountered that of the 
 old gentleman, he looked so knowing that Tom blushed, and was silent. 
 
 " ' Tom,' said the old gentleman, ' the widow's a fine woman 
 remarkably fine woman eh, Tom ? ' Here the old fellow screwed up 
 his eyes, cocked up one of his wasted little legs, and looked altogether 
 so unpleasantly amorous, that Tom was quite disgusted with the levity 
 of his behaviour ; at his time of life, too ! 
 
 " ' I am her guardian, Tom,' said the old gentleman. 
 
 " * Are you ? ' inquired Tom Smart. 
 
 " * I knew her mother, Tom,' said the old fellow ; ' and her grand- 
 mother. She was very fond of me made me this waistcoat, Torn." 
 
 " ' Did she ? ' said Tom Smart. 
 
 " ' And these shoes, ' said the old fellow, lifting up one of the red- 
 cloth mufflers ; ' but don't mention it, Tom. I shouldn't like to have 
 it known that she was so much attached to me. It might occasion 
 some unpleasantness in the family.' When the old rascal said this, he
 
 142 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 looked so extremely impertinent, that, as Tom Smart afterwards 
 declared, he could have sat upon him without remorse. 
 
 " ' I have been a great favourite among- the women in my time, Tom,' 
 said the profligate old debauchee ; < hundreds of fine women have sat in 
 my lap for hours together. What do you think of that you dog, eh ? ' 
 The old gentleman was proceeding to recount some other exploits of his 
 youth, when he was seized with such a violent fit of creaking that he 
 was unable to proceed. 
 
 " ' Just serves you right, old boy,' thought Tom Smart ; but he didn't 
 say anything. 
 
 " < Ah ! ' said the old fellow, I am a good deal troubled with this 
 now. I am getting old, Tom, and have lost nearly all my rails. I 
 have had an operation performed, too a small piece let into my back 
 and I found it a severe trial, Tom.' 
 
 " ' I dare say you did, Sir,' said Tom Smart. 
 
 " ' However/ said the old gentleman, ' that's not the point. Tom, I 
 want you to marry the widow.' 
 
 "< Me, Sir!' said Tom. 
 
 " ' You ; ' said the old gentleman. 
 
 " ' Bless your reverend locks,' said Tom (he had a few scattered 
 horse-hairs left) " ' bless your reverend locks, she wouldn't have me.' 
 And Tom sighed involuntarily, as he thought of the bar. 
 
 " ' Wouldn't she ? ' said the old gentleman, firmly. 
 
 " ' No, no,' said Tom ; ' there's somebody else in the wind. A tall 
 man a confoundedly tall man with black whiskers.' 
 
 " ' Tom,' said the old gentleman ; ' she will never have him.' 
 
 " ' Won't she ? ' said Tom. If you stood in the bar, old gentleman, 
 you'd tell another story.' 
 
 " ' Pooh, pooh,' said the old gentleman. ' I know all about that.' 
 
 " About what ? ' said Tom. 
 
 " ' The kissing behind the door, and all that sort of thing, Tom,' said 
 the old gentleman, and here he gave another impudent look, which 
 made Tom very wroth, becatdfe as you all know, gentlemen, to hear an 
 old fellow, who ought to kiwlr better, talking about these things, is 
 very unpleasant nothing more so. 
 
 " ' I know all about that, Tom,' said the old gentleman. ' I have 
 seen it done very often in my time, Tom, between more people than I 
 should like to mention to you ; but it never came to anything after 
 all.' 
 
 " ' You 'must have seen some queer things,' said Tom, with an 
 inquisitive look. 
 
 " ' You may say that, Tom,' replied the old fellow, with a very com- 
 plicated wink. ' I am the last of my family, Tom,' said the old gentle- 
 man, with a melancholy sigh. 
 
 " Was it a large one ? ' inquired Tom Smart. 
 
 " ' There were twelve of us, Tom,' said the old gentleman ; fine 
 straight-backed, handsome fellows as you'd wish to see. None of your 
 modern abortions all with arms, and with a degree of polish, though I 
 say it that should not, which it would have done your heart good to 
 behold.'
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 143 
 
 " ' And what's become of the others, Sir? ' asked Tom Smart. 
 
 " The old gentleman applied his elbow to his eye as he replied, 
 Gone, Tom, gone. We had hard service, Tom, and they hadn't all 
 my constitution. They got rheumatic about the legs and arms, and 
 went into kitchens and other hospitals ; and one of 'em, with long ser- 
 vice and hard usage, positively lost his senses: he got so crazy that 
 he was obliged to be burnt. Shocking thing that, Tom.' 
 
 " ' Dreadful ! ' said Tom Smart. 
 
 " The old fellow paused for a few minutes, apparently struggling 
 with his feelings of emotion, and then said 
 
 " ' However, Tom, I am wandering from the point. This tall man, 
 Tom, is a rascally adventurer. The moment he married the widow, he 
 would sell off all the furniture, and run away. What would be the 
 consequence? She would be deserted and reduced to ruin, and I 
 should catch my death of cold in some broker's shop.' 
 
 "' Yes, but ' 
 
 "' Don't interrupt me,' said the old gentleman. ' Of you, Tom, I 
 entertain a very different opinion ; for I well know that if you once set- 
 tled yourself in a public house, you would never leave it, as long as there 
 was anything to drink within its walls.' 
 
 " ' I am very much obliged to you for your good opinion, Sir,' said 
 Tom Smart. 
 
 " ' Therefore,' resumed the old gentleman, in a dictatorial tone ; yon 
 shall have her, and he shall not.' 
 
 " ' What is to prevent it ? ' said Tom Smart, eagerly. 
 
 "'This disclosure,' replied the old gentleman; ' he is already 
 married.' 
 
 " ' How can I prove it ? ' said Tom, starting half out of bed. 
 
 " The old gentleman untucked his arm from his side, and having 
 pointed to one of the oaken presses, immediately replaced it, in its old 
 position. 
 
 " ' He little thinks/ said the old gentleman, ' that in the right hand 
 pocket of a pair of trousers in that press, he has left a letter, entreating 
 him to return to his disconsolate wife, with six mark me, Tom six 
 babes, and all of them small ones.' 
 
 " As the old gentleman solemnly uttered these words, his features grew 
 Jess and less distinct, and his figure more shadowy. A film came over 
 Tom Smart's eyes. The old man seemed gradually blending into the 
 chair, the damask waistcoat to resolve into a cushion, the red slippers to 
 shrink into little red cloth bags. The light faded gently away, and Tom 
 Smart fell back on his pillow, and dropped asleep. 
 
 " Morning roused Tom from the lethargic slumber, into which he had 
 fallen on the disappearance of the old man. He sat up in bed, and for 
 some minutes vainly endeavoured to recal the events of the preceding 
 night. Suddenly they rushed upon him. He looked at the chair, 
 it was a fantastic and grim-looking piece of furniture, certainly, but it 
 must have been a remarkably ingenious and lively imagination, that 
 could have discovered any resemblance between it and an old man. 
 
 " ' How are you, old boy ? ' said Tom. He was bolder in the day- 
 light most men are.
 
 144 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " The chair remained motionless, and spoke not a word. 
 
 te < Miserable morning,' said Tom. No. The chair would not be 
 drawn into conversation. 
 
 " ' Which press did you point to ? you can tell me that,' said Tom. 
 Devil a word, gentlemen, the chair would say. 
 
 " ' It's not much trouble to open it, any how/ said Tom, getting out 
 of bed very deliberately. He walked up to one of the presses. The 
 key was in the lock ; he turned it, and opened the door. There was a 
 pair of trousers there. He put his hand into the pocket, and drew forth, 
 the identical letter the old gentleman had described ! 
 
 " ' Queer sort of thing, this,' said Tom Smart ; looking first at the 
 chair and then at the press, and then at the letter, and then at the 
 chair again. ' Very queer/ said Tom. But as there was nothing in 
 either to lessen the queerness, he thought he might as well dress him- 
 self, and settle the tall man's business at once -just to put him out of 
 his misery. 
 
 " Tom surveyed the rooms he passed though, on his way down stairs, 
 with the scrutinising eye of a landlord ; thinking it not impossible, that 
 before long, they and their contents would be his property. The tall 
 man was standing in the snug little bar, with, his hands behind him, 
 quite at home. He grinned vacantly at Tom. A casual observer 
 might have supposed he did it, only to show his white teeth ; but Tom. 
 Smart thought that a consciousness of triumph was passing through the 
 place where the tall man's mind would have been, if he had had any. 
 Tom laughed in his face ; and summoned the landlady. 
 
 " * Good morning, Ma'am,' said Tom Smart, closing the door of the 
 little parlour as the widow entered. 
 
 " ' Good morning, Sir,' said the widow. ' What will you take for 
 breakfast, Sir ? ' 
 
 " Tom was thinking how he should open the case, so he made no 
 answer. 
 
 " ' There's a very nice ham,' said the widow, x and a beautiful cold 
 larded fowl. Shall I send 'em in, Sir ? ' 
 
 " These words roused Tofflffrom his reflections. His admiration of 
 the widow increased as she sp'oke. Thoughtful creature ! Comfortable 
 provider ! 
 
 " ' Who is that gentleman in the bar, Ma'am ? ' inquired Tom. 
 
 " ' His name is Jinkins, Sir,' said the widow, slightly blushing. 
 
 " ' He's a tall man,' said Tom. 
 
 " 'He is a very fine man, Sir/ replied the widow, ' and a very nice 
 gentleman.' 
 
 " Ah ! ' said Tom. 
 
 " ' Is there anything more you want, Sir ? ' inquired the widow, rather 
 puzzled by Tom's manner. 
 
 " ' Why, yes/ said Tom. * My dear Ma'am, will you have the kind- 
 ness to sit down for one moment ? ' 
 
 " The widow looked much amazed, but she sat down, and Tom sat 
 down too, close beside her. I don't know how it happened, gentlemen 
 indeed my uncle used to tell me that Tom Smart said he didn't know 
 how it happened either but somehow or other the palm of Tom's
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 145 
 
 hand fell upon the back of the widow's hand, and remained there while 
 he spoke. 
 
 " ' My dear Ma'am,' said Tom Smart he had always a great notion 
 of committing- the amiable " My dear Ma'am, you deserve a very 
 excellent husband ; you do indeed.' 
 
 " ' Lor, Sir ! ' said the widow as well she might ; Tom's mode of 
 commencing the conversation being rather unusual, not to say startling, 
 the fact of his never having set eyes upon her before the previous 
 night, being taken into consideration. ' Lor, Sir ! ' 
 
 " ' I scorn to flatter, my dear Ma'am,' said Tom Smart. * You 
 deserve a very admirable husband, and whoever he is, he'll be a very 
 lucky man.' As Tom said this, his eye involuntarily wandered from 
 the widow's face to the comforts around him. 
 
 " The widow looked more puzzled than ever, and made an effort to 
 rise. Tom gently pressed her hand, as if to detain her, and she kept 
 her seat. Widows, gentlemen, are not usually timorous, as my uncle 
 used to say. 
 
 " ' I am sure I am very much obliged to you, Sir, for your good 
 opinion/ said the buxom landlady, half laughing ; and if ever 1 marry 
 again ' 
 
 " ' If,' said Tom Smart, looking very shrewdly out at the right-hand 
 corner of his left eye. ' If 
 
 " ' Well/ said the widow, laughing outright this time. " When I 
 do, I hope I shall have as good a husband as you describe.' 
 
 " ' Jinkins to wit/ said Tom. 
 
 " ' Lor, Sir ! ' exclaimed the widow. 
 
 " ' Oh, don't tell me/ said Tom, ' I know him.' 
 
 " I am sure nobody who knows him, knows anything bad of him/ said 
 the widow, bridling up at the mysterious air with which Tom had spoken. 
 
 " ' Hem/ said Tom Smart. 
 
 " The widow began to think it was high time to cry, so she took out 
 her handkerchief, and inquired whether Tom wished to insult her, 
 whether he thought it like a gentleman to take away the character of 
 another gentleman behind his back, why, if he had got anything to say, 
 he didn't say it to the man, like a man, instead of terrifying a poor weak 
 woman in that way ; and so forth. 
 
 " ' I'll say it to him fast enough/ said Tom, ' only I want you to 
 hear it first.' 
 
 " ' What is it ? ' inquired the widow, looking intently in Tom's coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " ' I'll astonish you/ said Tom, putting his hand in his pocket. 
 
 '< If it is, that he wants money/ said the widow, ' I know that 
 already, and you needn't trouble yourself/ 
 
 " ' Pooh, nonsense, that's nothing/ said Tom Smart, ; ' /want money. 
 'Tan't that. 
 
 " ' Oh dear, what can it be?' exclaimed the poor widow. 
 
 " ' Don't be frightened/ said Tom Smart. He slowly drew forth 
 the letter, and unfolded it. ' You won't scream? ' said Tom, doubtfully. 
 
 " * Ko, no/ replied the widow; ' let me see it/ 
 
 " ' You won't go fainting away, or any of that nonsense ? ' said Tom.
 
 146 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 tf ' No, no,' returned the widow, hastily. 
 
 " And don't run out, and blow him up/ said Tom, because I'll do 
 all that for you ; you had better not exert yourself.' 
 
 " Well, well/ said the widow, ' let me see it.' 
 
 " ' I will,' replied Tom Smart ; and, with these words, he placed the 
 letter in the widow's hand. 
 
 , " Gentlemen, I have heard my uncle say, that Tom Smart said, the 
 widow's lamentations when she heard the disclosure would have pierced 
 a heart of stone. Tom was certainly very tender-hearted, but they 
 pierced his, to the very core. The widow rocked herself to and fro, and 
 wrung her hands. 
 
 " ' Oh, the deception and villainy of the man I ' said the widow. 
 
 " Frightful, my dear Ma'am; but compose yourself/ said Tom Smart. 
 >' " ( Oh, I can't compose myself/ shrieked the widow. ' I shall never 
 find any one else I can love so much ! ' 
 
 " ' Oh yes you will, my dear soul/ said Tom Smart, letting fall a 
 shower of the largest-sized tears, in pity for the widow's misfortunes. 
 Tom Smart, in the energy of his compassion, had put his arm round 
 the widow's waist ; and the widow, in a passion of grief, had clasped 
 Tom's hand. She looked up in Tom's face, and smiled through her 
 tears. Tom looked down in her's, and smiled through his. 
 
 " I never could find out, gentlemen, whether Tom did or did not kiss 
 the widow at that particular moment. He used to tell my uncle he 
 didn't, but I have ray doubts about it. Between ourselves, gentlemen, 
 I rather think he did. 
 
 " At all events, Tom kicked the very tall man out at the front door 
 half an hour after, and married the widow a month after. And he used 
 to drive about the country, with the clay-coloured gig with the red 
 wheels, and the vixenish mare with the fast pace, till he gave up busi- 
 ness many years afterwards, and went to France with his wife ; and then 
 the old house was pulled down." 
 
 " Will you allow me to ask you," said the inquisitive old gentleman, 
 " what became of the chair ? " 
 
 " Why," replied the one-eyed bagman, " it was observed to creak 
 very much on the day of the wedding ; but Tom Smart couldn't say 
 for certain, whether it was with pleasure or bodily infirmity. He rather 
 thought it was the latter, though, for it never spoke afterwards." 
 
 " Everybody believed the story, didn't they ? " said the dirty-faced 
 man, re-filling his pipe. 
 
 " Except Tom's enemies," replied the bagman. " Some of 'em said 
 Tom invented it altogether ; and others said he was drunk, and fancied 
 it, "and got hold of the wrong trousers by mistake before he went to 
 bed. But nobody ever minded what they said. 1 ' 
 
 " Tom Smart said it was all true ? " 
 
 " Every word." 
 
 " And your uncle ? " 
 
 ' Every letter." 
 
 " They must have been nice men, both of 'em;" said the dirty-faced man. 
 
 " Yes, they were," replied the bagman ; " very nice men indeed ! "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IN WHICH IS GIVEN A FAITHFUL PORTRAITURE OF TWO DISTIN- 
 GUISHED PERSONS ; AND AN ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF A PUBLIC 
 BREAKFAST IN THEIR HOUSE AND GROUNDS : WHICH PUBLIC 
 BREAKFAST, LEADS TO THE RECOGNITION OF AN OLD ACQUAINT- 
 ANCE, AND THE COMMENCEMENT OF ANOTHER CHAPTER. 
 
 MR. Pickwick's conscience had been somewhat reproaching 1 him, for 
 his recent neglect of his friends at the Peacock ; and he was just on the 
 point of walking forth in quest of them, on the third morning flfter the 
 election had terminated, when his faithful valet put into his hand a 
 card, on which was engraved the following inscription. 
 
 iHrs. Heo punter. ; 
 
 The Den. EatanswUL 
 
 " Person's a waitin'," said Sam, epigrammatically. 
 
 " Does the person want me, Sam ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " He wants you partickler; and no one else'll do, as the Devil's 
 private secretary said, ven he fetched avay Doctor Faustus," replied 
 Mr. Weller. 
 
 " He. Is it a gentleman ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " A wery good imitation o' one, if it an't," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " But this is a lady's card," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Given me by a gen'lm'n, hows'ever," replied Sain, " and he's a 
 waitin' in the drawing-room said he'd rather wait all day, than not see 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick on hearing this determination, descended to the 
 drawing-room, where sat a grave man, who started up on his entrance, 
 and said, with an air of profound respect 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, I presume ? " 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " Allow me, Sir, the honour of grasping your hand permit me Sir, 
 to shake it," said the grave man. 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 The stranger shook the extended hand, and then continued. 
 
 " We have heard of your fame, Sir. The noise of your antiquarian 
 discussion has reached the ears of Mrs. Leo Hunter my wife, Sir : / 
 am Mr. Leo Hunter " the stranger paused, as if he expected that 
 Mr. Pickwick would be overcome by the disclosure ; but seeing that he 
 remained perfectly calm, proceeded. 
 
 " My wife, Sir Mrs. Leo Hunter is proud to number among her 
 acquaintance, all those who have rendered themselves celebrated by 
 their works and talents. Permit me, Sir, to place in a conspicuous part
 
 148 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 of the list, the name of Mr. Pickwick, and bis brother members of the 
 club that derives its name from him." 
 
 " I shall be extremely happy to make the acquaintance of such a 
 lady, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " You shall make it, Sir," said the grave man. " To-morrow morning, 
 Sir, we give a public breakfast a fete champetre to a great number of 
 those who have rendered themselves celebrated by their works and 
 talents. Permit Mrs. Leo Hunter, Sir, to have the gratification of 
 seeing you at the Den." 
 
 " With great pleasure," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Mrs. Leo Hunter has many of these breakfasts, Sir," resumed the 
 new acquaintance " ' Feasts of reason, Sir, and flows of soul,' as some- 
 body who wrote a sonnet to Mrs. Leo Hunter on her breakfasts, feel- 
 ingly and originally observed." 
 
 " Was he celebrated for his works, and talents ? " inquired Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " He was, Sir," replied the grave man, " all Mrs. Leo Hunter's 
 acquaintance are ; it is her ambition, Sir, to have no other acquain- 
 tance." 
 
 " It is a very noble ambition," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " When I inform Mrs. Leo Hunter, that that remark fell from your 
 lips, Sir, she will indeed be proud," said the grave man. " You have a 
 gentleman in your train, who has produced some beautiful little poems, 
 I think, Sir." 
 
 " My friend Mr. Snodgrass has a great taste for poetry," replied Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " So has Mrs. Leo Hunter, Sir. She dotes on poetry, Sir. She 
 adores it ; I may say that her whole soul and mind are wound up, and 
 entwined with it. She has produced some delightful pieces, herself, 
 Sir. You may have met with her ' Ode to an expiring Frog,' Sir." 
 
 I don't think I have," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " You astonish me, Sir," said Mr. Leo Hunter. " It created an 
 immense sensation. It was signed with an ' L ' and eight stars, and 
 appeared originally in a Lady's Magazine. It commenced 
 
 " Can I view thee panting, lying 
 On thy stomach, without sighing ; 
 Can I unmoved sec thee dying 
 
 On a log, 
 
 Expiring frog ! " 
 
 " Beautiful ! " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Fine," said Mr. Leo Hunter, " so simple." 
 
 Very," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " The next verse is still more touching. Shall I repeat it ? " 
 
 " If you please," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It runs thus," said the grave man, still more gravely. 
 
 " Say, have fiends in shape of LOTS, 
 With wild halloo, and hrutal noise, 
 Hunted thee from marshy joys, 
 
 With a dog, 
 Expiring frog ! "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 149 
 
 " Finely expressed," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " All point, Sir, all point," said Mr. Leo Hunter, " but you shall 
 hear Mrs. Leo Hunter repeat it. She can do justice to it, Sir. She 
 will repeat it, in character, Sir, to-morrow morning 1 ." 
 
 "In character ! " 
 
 " As Minerva. But I forgot it's a fancy dress dejeune." 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Pickwick, glancing at his own figure " I can't 
 possibly " 
 
 " Can't Sir ; can't ! " exclaimed Mr. Leo Hunter. " Solomon Lucas 
 the Jew in the High Street, has thousands of fancy dresses. Consider, 
 Sir, how many appropriate characters are open for your selection. 
 Plato, Zeno, Epicurus, Pythagoras all founders of clubs." 
 
 " I know that," said Mr. Pickwick, " but as I cannot put myself in 
 competition with those great men, I cannot presume to wear their 
 dresses." 
 
 The grave man considered deeply, for a few seconds, and then said, 
 
 " On reflection, Sir, I don't know whether it would not afford Mrs. 
 Leo Hunter greater pleasure, if her guests saw a gentleman of your 
 celebrity in his own costume, rather than in an assumed one. I may 
 venture to promise an exception in your case, Sir yes, I am quite 
 certain that on behalf of Mrs. Leo Hunter, I may venture to do so." 
 
 " In that case," said Mr. Pickwick, (t I shall have great pleasure in 
 coming." 
 
 " But I waste your time, Sir," said the grave man, as if suddenly 
 recollecting himself. " I know its value, Sir. I will not detain you. I 
 may tell Mrs. Leo Hunter, then, that she may confidently expect you 
 and your distinguished friends? Good morning, Sir, I am proud to 
 have beheld so eminent a personage not a step, Sir; not a word." 
 And without giving 1 Mr. Pickwick time to offer remonstrance or denial, 
 Mr. Leo Hunter stalked gravely away. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick took up his hat, and repaired to the Peacock, but Mr. 
 Winkle had conveyed the intelligence of the fancy ball there, before 
 him. 
 
 " Mrs. Pott's going-/' were the first words with which he saluted his 
 leader. 
 
 " Is she ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " As Apollo," replied Mr. Winkle. " Only Pott objects to the 
 tunic." 
 
 " He is right. He is quite right," said Mr. Pickwick emphatically. 
 
 " Yes ; so she's going to wear a white satin gown with gold 
 spangles." 
 
 " They'll hardly know what she's meant for ; will they ? " inquired 
 Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Of course they will," replied Mr. Winkle indignantly. " They'll 
 see her lyre, won't they ? " 
 
 " True ; " I forgot that," said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " I shall go as a Bandit," interposed Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " What ! " said Mr. Pickwick, with a sudden start. 
 
 " As a bandit," repeated Mr. Tupman, mildly. 
 o 2
 
 150 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " You don't mean to say," said Mr. Pickwick, gazing with solemn 
 sternness at his friend, " You don't mean to say, Mr. Tupman, that 
 it is your intention to put yourself into a green velvet jacket, with a 
 two-inch tail ? " 
 
 " Such is my intention, Sir," replied Mr. Tupman warmly. " And 
 why not, Sir?" 
 
 " Because Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, considerably excited " Because 
 you are too old, Sir." 
 
 " Too old ! " exclaimed Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " And if any further ground of objection be wanting," continued Mr. 
 Pickwick, " you are too fat, Sir." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Tupman, his face suffused with a crimson glow, 
 " This is an insult." 
 
 " Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick in the same tone, " It is not half the 
 insult to you, that your appearance in my presence in a green velvet 
 jacket, with a two-inch tail, would be to me." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Tupman, " you're a fellow." 
 " Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " you're another ! " 
 
 Mr. Tupman advanced a step or two, and glared at Mr. Pickwick. 
 Mr. Pickwick returned the glare, concentrated into a focus by means of 
 his spectacles, and breathed a bold defiance. Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. 
 Winkle, looked on, petrified at beholding such a scene between two 
 such men. 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Tupman, after a short pause, speaking in a low, deep 
 voice, " you have called me old." 
 " I have," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 And fat." 
 
 " I reiterate the charge." 
 And a fellow." 
 " So you are ! " 
 There was a fearful pause. 
 
 " My attachment to your person, Sir," said Mr. Tupman, speaking 
 in a voice tremulous with emotion, and tucking up his wristbands mean- 
 while, " is great very great but upon that person, I must take sum- 
 mary vengeance." 
 
 " Come on, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick. Stimulated by the exciting 
 nature of the dialogue, the heroic man actually threw himself into a 
 paralytic attitude, confidently supposed by the two by-standers to have 
 been intended as a posture of defence. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, suddenly recovering the power 
 of speech, of which intense astonishment had previously bereft him, 
 and rushing between the two, at the imminent hazard of receiving an 
 application on the temple from each. " What ! Mr. Pickwick, with 
 the eyes of the world upon you ! Mr. Tupman! who, in common with 
 us all, derives a lustre from his undying name ! For shame, gentlemen ; 
 for shame." 
 
 The unwonted lines which momentary passion had ruled in Mr. 
 Pickwick's clear and open brow, gradually melted away, as his young 
 friend spoke, like the marks of a black-lead pencil beneath the soften-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 151 
 
 ing influence of India rubber. His countenance had resumed its usual 
 benign expression ere he concluded. 
 
 " I have been hasty," said Mr. Pickwick, " very hasty. Tupman ; 
 your hand." 
 
 The dark shadow passed from Mr. Tupinan's face, as he warmly 
 grasped the hand of his friend. 
 
 " 1 have been hasty, too," said he. 
 
 ' No, no," interrupted Mr. Pickwick, " the fault was mine. You 
 will wear the green velvet jacket ? " 
 
 " No, no," replied Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " To oblige me, you will," resumed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Well, well, I will," said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 It was accordingly settled that Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. 
 Snodgrass, should all wear fancy dresses. Thus Mr. Pickwick was led 
 by the very warmth of his own good feelings to give his consent to a 
 proceeding from which his better judgment would have recoiled a 
 more striking illustration of his amiable character could hardly have 
 been conceived, even if the events recorded in these pages had been 
 wholly imaginary. 
 
 Mr. Leo Hunter had not exaggerated the resources of Mr. Solomon 
 Lucas. His wardrobe was extensive very extensive not strictly 
 classical perhaps, nor quite new, nor did it contain any one garment 
 made precisely after the fashion of any age or time, but every thing was 
 more or less spangled ; and what can be prettier than spangles ? It 
 may be objected that they are not adapted to the daylight, but everybody 
 knows that they would glitter if there were lamps ; and nothing can be 
 clearer than that if people give fancy balls in the day-time, and the 
 dresses do not show quite as well as they would by night, the fault lies 
 solely with the people who give the fancy balls, and is in no wise 
 chargeable on the spangles. Such was the convincing reasoning of 
 Mr. Solomon Lucas ; and influenced by such arguments did Mr. 
 Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass, engage to array themselves 
 in costumes which his taste and experience induced him to recommend 
 as admirably suited to the occasion. 
 
 A carriage was hired from the Town Arms, for the accommodation 
 of the Pickwickians, and a chariot was ordered from the same repository, 
 for the purpose of conveying Mr. and Mrs. Pott to Mrs. Leo Hunter's 
 grounds, which Mr. Pott, as a delicate acknowledgment of having 
 received an invitation, had already confidently predicted in the Eatanswill 
 Gazette " would present a scene of varied and delicious enchantment 
 a bewildering coruscation of beauty and talent a lavish and prodigal 
 display of hospitality above all, a degree of splendour softened by the 
 most exquisite taste ; and adornment retined with perfect harmony and 
 the chastest good-keeping compared with which, the fabled gorgeous- 
 ness of Eastern Fairy Land itself, would appear to be clothed in as many 
 dark and murky colours, as must be the mind of the splenetic and unmanly 
 being who could presume to taint with the venom of his envy, the 
 preparations making by the virtuous and highly distinguished lady, at 
 whose shrine this humble tribute of admiration was offered." This last
 
 152 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 was a piece of biting- sarcasm against the Independent, who in conse- 
 quence of not having been invited at all, had been through four numbers 
 affecting to sneer at the whole affair, in his very largest type, with all 
 the adjectives in capital letters. 
 
 The morning came ; it was a pleasant sight to behold Mr. Tupman in 
 full Brigand's costume, with a very tight jacket, sitting like a pincushion 
 over his back and shoulders : the upper portion of his legs encased in the 
 velvet shorts, and the lower part thereof swathed in the complicated 
 bandages to which all Brigands are peculiarly attached. It was pleasing 
 to see his open and ingenuous countenance, well mustachioed and corked, 
 looking out from an open shirt collar ; and to contemplate the sugar-loaf 
 hat, decorated with ribbons of all colours, which he was compelled to 
 carry on his knee, inasmuch as no known conveyance with a top to it, 
 would admit of any man's carrying it between his head and the roof. 
 Equally humourous and agreeable, was the appearance of Mr. Snodgrass 
 in blue satin trunks and cloak, white silk tights and shoes, and Grecian 
 helmet, which everybody knows (and if they do not, Mr. Solomon 
 Lucas did) to have been the regular, authentic, every-day costume of a 
 Troubadour, from the earliest ages down to the time of their final disap- 
 pearance from the face of the earth. All this was pleasant, but this 
 was as nothing compared with the shouting of the populace when the 
 carriage drew up, behind Mr. Pott's chariot, which chariot itself drew 
 up at Mr. Pott's door, which door itself opened, and displayed the great 
 Pott accoutred as a Russian officer of justice, with a tremendous knout 
 in his hand tastefully typical of the stern and mighty power of the 
 Eatanswill Gazette, and the fearful lashings it bestowed on public 
 offenders. 
 
 " Bravo ! " shouted Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass from the passage, 
 when they beheld the walking allegory. 
 
 " Bravo ! " Mr. Pickwick was heard to exclaim, from the passage. 
 
 " Hoo roar Pott," shouted the populace. Amid these salutations, 
 Mr. Pott, smiling with that kind of bland dignity which' sufficiently 
 testified that he felt his power, and knew how to exert it, got into the 
 chariot. 
 
 Then there emerged from the house, Mrs. Pott, who would have 
 looked very like Apollo if she hadn't had a gown on : conducted by Mr. 
 Winkle, who in his light red-coat, could not possibly have been mis- 
 taken for any thing but a sportsman, if he had not borne an equal 
 resemblance to a general postman. Last of all, came Mr. Pickwick, 
 whom the boys applauded as loudly as anybody, probably under the 
 impression that his tights and gaiters were some remnants of the dark 
 ages ; and then the two vehicles proceeded towards Mrs. Leo Hunter's, 
 Mr. Weller (who was to assist in waiting) being stationed on the box 
 of that in which his master was seated. 
 
 Every one of the men, women, boys, girls, and babies, who were 
 assembled to see the visitors in their fancy dresses, screamed with delight 
 and extasy, when Mr. Pickwick, with the Brigand on one arm, and 
 the Troubadour on the other, walked solemnly up the entrance. Never 
 were such shouts heard, as those which greeted Mr. Tupman's efforts
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 153 
 
 to fix the sugar-loaf hat on his head, by way of entering the garden in 
 style. 
 
 The preparations were on the most delightful scale ; fully realising 
 the prophetic Pott's anticipations about the gorgeousness of Eastern 
 Fairy-land, and at once affording a sufficient contradiction to the 
 malignant statements of the reptile Independent. The grounds were 
 more than an acre and a quarter in extent, and they were filled with 
 people ! Never was such a blaze of beauty, and fashion, and literature. 
 There was the young lady who "did" the poetry in the Eatanswill 
 Gazette, in the garb of a sultana, leaning upon the arm of the young 
 gentleman who " did" the review department, and who was appro- 
 priately habited in a field marshal's uniform the boots excepted. 
 There were hosts of these geniuses, and any reasonable person 
 would have thought it honour enough to meet them. But more than 
 these, there were half a dozen lions from London authors, real authors, 
 who had written whole books, and printed them afterwards arid here you 
 might see 'eiH; walking about, like ordinary men, smiling, and talking 
 aye, and talking pretty considerable nonsense too, no doubt with the 
 benign intention of rendering themselves intelligible to the common 
 people about them. Moreover, there was a band of music in pasteboard 
 caps ; four something-ean singers in the costume of their country, and 
 a dozen hired waiters in the costume of their country and very dirty 
 costume too. And above all, there was Mrs. Leo Hunter in the character 
 of Minerva, receiving the company, and overflowing with pride and 
 gratification at the notion of having called such distinguished individuals 
 together. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick, Ma'am," said a servant, as that gentleman approached 
 the presiding goddess, with his hat in his hand, and the Brigand and 
 Troubadour on either arm. 
 
 " What where ! " exclaimed Mrs. Leo Hunter, starting up, in an 
 affected rapture of surprise. 
 
 " Here," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Is it possible that I have really the gratification of beholding Mr. 
 Pickwick himself! " ejaculated Mrs. Leo Hunter. 
 
 " No other, Ma'am," replied Mr. Pickwick, bowing very low. " Per- 
 mit me to introduce my friends Mr. Tupman Mr. Winkle Mr. 
 Snodgrass to the authoress of ' The Expiring Frog.' " 
 
 Very few people but those -who have tried it, know what a difficult 
 process it is, to bow in green velvet smalls, and a tight jacket and high- 
 crowned-hat, or in blue satin trunks and white silks, or knee-cords and 
 top-boots that were never made for the wearer, and have been fixed upon 
 him without the remotest reference to the comparative dimensions of 
 himself and the suit. Never were such distortions as Mr. Tupman's 
 frame underwent in his efforts to appear easy and graceful never was 
 such ingenious posturing, as his fancy-dressed friends exhibited. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Leo Hunter, " I must make you promise 
 not to stir from my side the whole day. There are hundreds of people 
 here, that I must positively introduce you to."
 
 154 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " You are very kind, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " In the first place, here are my little girls; I had almost forgotten 
 them," said Minerva, carelessly pointing towards a couple of full-grown 
 young ladies, of whom one might be about twenty, and the other a year 
 or two older, and who were dressed in very juvenile costumes whether 
 to make them look young, or theirjnamma younger, Mr. Pickwick does 
 not distinctly inform us. 
 
 " They are very beautiful," said Mr. Pickwick, as the juveniles turned 
 away, after being presented. 
 
 " They are very like their mamma, Sir," said Mr. Pott, majestically. 
 
 " Oh you naughty man," exclaimed Mrs. Leo Hunter, playfully 
 tapping the Editor's arm with her fan (Minerva with a fan !) 
 
 " Why now, my dear Mrs. Hunter," said Mr. Pott, who was trum- 
 peter in ordinary at the Den, " you knoiv that when your picture was in 
 the Exhibition of the Royal Academy, last year, everybody inquired 
 whether it was intended for you, or your youngest daughter ; for you 
 were so much alike that there was no telling the difference between you." 
 
 " Well, and if they did, why need you repeat it, before strangers ? " 
 said Mrs. Leo Hunter, bestowing another tap on the slumbering lion of 
 the Eatanswill Gazette. 
 
 " Count, Count," screamed Mrs. Leo Hunter to a well-whiskered 
 individual in a foreign uniform, who was passing by. 
 
 "Ah ! you want me ?|" said the Count, turning back. 
 
 " I want to introduce two very clever people to each other," said 
 Mrs. Leo Hunter. " Mr. Pickwick, I have great pleasure in introducing 
 you to Count Smorltork." She added in a hurried whisper to Mr. 
 Pickwick " the famous foreigner gathering materials for his great 
 work on England hem ! Count Smorltork, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick saluted the Count with all the reverence due to so 
 great a man, and the Count drew forth a set of tablets. 
 
 " What you say, Mrs. Hunt ? " inquired the Count, smiling graci- 
 ously on the gratified Mrs. Leo Hunter, " Pig Vig or Big Vig what 
 you call Lawyer eh? I see that is it. Big Vig" and the Count 
 was proceeding to enter Mr. Pickwick in his tablets, as a gentleman of 
 the long-robe, who derived his name from the profession to which he 
 belonged, when Mrs. Leo Hunter interposed. 
 
 " No, no, Count," said the lady, " Pick-wick." 
 
 Ah, ah, I see," replied the Count. " Peek Christian name ; 
 Weeks surname ; good, ver good. Peek Weeks. How you do Weeks ? " 
 
 " Quite well, I thank you," replied Mr. Pickwick, with all his usual 
 affability. " Have you been long in England ? " 
 
 " Long ver long time fortnight more." 
 
 " Do you stay here long ? " 
 
 " One week." 
 
 " You will have enough to do," said Mr. Pickwick, smiling, " to 
 gather all the materials you want, in that time." 
 
 " Eh, they are gathered," said the Count. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Pickwick.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 155 
 
 " They are here," added the Count, tapping his forehead significantly. 
 " Large book at home full of notes music, picture, science, potry, 
 poltic ; all tings." 
 
 " The word politics, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " comprises, in itself, a 
 difficult study of no inconsiderable magnitude." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Count, drawing out the tablets again, " ver good 
 fine words to begin a chapter. Chapter forty-seven. Poltics. The 
 word poltic surprises by himself " And down went Mr. Pickwick's 
 remark, in Count Smorltork's tablets, with such variations and additions 
 as the Count's exuberant fancy suggested, or his imperfect knowledge 
 of the language, occasioned. 
 
 " Count," said Mrs. Leo Hunter. 
 ( " Mrs. Hunt," replied the Count. 
 
 " This is Mr. Snodgrass, a friend of Mr. Pickwick's, and a poet." 
 
 " Stop," exclaimed the Count, bringing out the tablets once more. 
 " Head, potry chapter, literary friends name, Snowgrass ; ver good. 
 Introduced to Snowgrass great poet, friend of Peek Weeks by Mrs. 
 Hunt, which wrote other sweet poem what is that name ? Frog 
 Perspiring Frog ver good ver good indeed." And the Count put up 
 his tablets, and with sundry bows and acknowledgments walked away, 
 thoroughly satisfied that he had made the most important and valuable 
 additions to his stock of information. 
 
 " Wonderful man, Count Smorltork," said Mrs. Leo Hunter. 
 
 " Sound philosopher," said Pott. 
 
 " Clear-headed, strong-minded person," added Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 A chorus of by-standers took up the shout of Count Smorltork's 
 praise, shook their heads sagely, and unanimously cried " Very ! " 
 
 As the enthusiasm in Count Smorltork's favour ran very high, his 
 praises might have been sung until the end of the festivities, if the four 
 something-ean singers had not ranged themselves in front of a small 
 apple-tree, to look picturesque, and commenced singing their national 
 songs, which appeared by no means difficult of execution, inasmuch as the 
 grand secret seemed to be, that three of the something-ean singers should 
 grunt, while the fourth howled. This interesting performance having 
 concluded amidst the loud plaudits of the whole company, a boy forthwith 
 proceeded to entangle himself with the rails of a chair, and to jump 
 over it, and crawl under it, and fall down with it, and do every thing 
 but sit upon it, and then to make a cravat of his legs, and tie them 
 round his neck, and then to illustrate the ease with which a human 
 being can be made to look like a magnified toad all which feats 
 yielded high delight and satisfaction to the assembled spectators. After 
 which, the voice of Mrs. Pott was heard to chirp faintly forth, some- 
 thing which courtesy interpreted into a song, which was all very classical, 
 and strictly in character, because Apollo was himself a composer, and 
 composers can very seldom sing their own music or anybody else's, 
 either. This was succeeded by Mrs. Leo Hunter's recitation of her 
 far-famed ode to an Expiring Frog, which was encored once, and would 
 have been encored twice, if the major part of the guests, who thought
 
 156 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 it was high time to get something to eat, had not said that it was per- 
 fectly shameful to take advantage of Mrs. Hunter's good nature. So 
 although Mrs. Leo Hunter professed her perfect willingness to recite 
 the ode again, her kind and considerate friends wouldn't hear of it on 
 any account ; and the refreshment room being thrown "open, all the 
 people who had ever been there before, scrambled in with all possible 
 despatch : Mrs. Leo Hunter's usual course of proceeding, being, to issue 
 cards for a hundred, and breakfast for fifty, or in other words to feed 
 only the very particular lions, and let the smaller animals take care of 
 themselves. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Pott ?" said Mrs. Leo Hunter, as she placed the 
 aforesaid lions around her. 
 
 " Here I am," said the editor, from the very furthest end of the 
 room ; far beyond all hope of food, unless something was done for him 
 by the hostess. 
 
 " Won't you come up here ? " 
 
 " Oh pray don't mind him," said Mrs. Pott, in the most obliging 
 voice " you give yourself a great deal of unnecessary trouble, Mrs. 
 Hunter. You'll do very well there, won't you dear." 
 
 " Certainly love," replied the unhappy Pott, with a grim smile. 
 Alas for the knout ! The nervous arm that wielded it, with such 
 gigantic force upon public characters, was paralysed beneath the glance 
 of the imperious Mrs. Pott. 
 
 Mrs. Leo Hunter looked round her, in triumph. Count Smorltork 
 was busily engaged in taking notes of the contents of the dishes ; Mr. 
 Tupman was doing the honours of the lobster salad to several lionesses, 
 with a degree of grace which no Brigand ever exhibited before ; Mr. 
 Snodgrass having cut out the young gentleman who cut up the books 
 for the Eatanswill Gazette, was engaged in an impassioned argument 
 with the young lady who did the poetry : and Mr. Pickwick was making 
 himself universally agreeable. Nothing seemed wanting to render the 
 select circle complete, when Mr. Leo Hunter whose department on 
 these occasions, was to stand about in door-ways, and talk to the less 
 important people suddenly called out 
 
 " My dear; here's Mr. Charles Fits-Marshall." 
 
 " Oh dear," said Mrs. Leo Hunter, " how anxiously I have been 
 expecting him. Pray make room, to let Mr. Fitz- Marshall pass. Tell 
 Mr. Fitz-Marshall, my dear, to come up to me directly, to be scolded 
 for coming so late." 
 
 " Coming, my dear Ma'am," cried a voice, " as quick as I can- 
 crowds of people full room hard work very." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's knife and fork fell from his hand. He stared across 
 the table at Mr. Tuprnan, who had dropped his knife and fork, and was 
 looking as if he were about to sink into the ground without further 
 notice. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the voice, as its owner pushed his way among the last 
 five and twenty Turks, officers, cavaliers, and Charles the Seconds, that 
 remained between him and the table, " regular mangle Baker's patent 
 not a crease in my coat, after all this squeezing might have ' got up
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 157 
 
 ray linen, as I came along ha ! ha ! not a bad idea, that queer thing 
 to have it mangled when it's upon one, though trying process very." 
 With these broken words, a young man dressed as a naval officer 
 made his way up to the table, and presented to the astonished Pick- 
 wickians, the identical form and features of Mr. Alfred Jingle. 
 
 The offender had barely time to take Mrs. Leo Hunter's proffered 
 hand, when his eyes encountered the indignant orbs of Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Jingle. " Quite forgot no directions to postilion 
 give 'em at once back in a minute." 
 
 " The servant, or Mr. Hunter will do it in a moment, Mr. Fitz- 
 Marshall/' said Mrs. Leo Hunter. 
 
 " No, no I'll do it shan't be long back in no time," replied 
 Jingle. With these words he disappeared among the crowd. 
 
 " Will you allow me to ask you, Ma'am," said the excited Mr. Pick- 
 wick, rising from his seat, " who that young man is, and where he 
 resides ? " 
 
 " He is a gentleman of fortune, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Leo 
 Hunter, " to whom I very much want to introduce you. Te Count 
 will be delighted with him.'' 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily. " His residence" 
 " Is at present at the Angel at Bury." 
 At Bury ? " 
 
 " At Bury St. Edmunds, not many miles from here. But dear me, 
 Mr. Pickwick, you are not going to leave us : surely Mr. Pickwick you 
 cannot think of going so soon." 
 
 But long before Mrs. Leo Hunter had finished speaking, Mr. Pick- 
 wick had plunged through the throng, and reached the garden, whither 
 he was shortly afterwards joined by Mr. Tupman, who had followed his 
 friend closely. 
 
 " It's of no use," said Mr. Tupman. " He has gone." 
 " I know it," said Mr. Pickwick, " and I will follow him." 
 " Follow him. Where ? " inquired Mr. Tupman. 
 " To the Angel at Bury," replied Mr. Pickwick, speaking very 
 quickly. " How do we know whom he is deceiving there ? He deceived 
 a worthy man once, and we were the innocent cause. He shall not do 
 it again, if I can help it ; I'll expose him. Sam ! Where's my 
 servant? " 
 
 " Here you are, Sir," said Mr. Weller, emerging from a sequestered 
 spot, where he had been engaged in discussing a bottle of Madeira, 
 which he had abstracted from the breakfast-table, an hour or two before. 
 " Here's your servant, Sir. Proud o' the title, as the Living Skellinton 
 said, ven they show'd him." 
 
 " Follow me instantly," said Mr. Pickwick. " Tupman, if I stay at 
 Bury, you can join me there, when I write. Till then, good-bye." 
 
 Remonstrances were useless. Mr. Pickwick was roused, and his 
 mind was made up. Mr. Tupman returned to his companions ; and in 
 another hour had drowned all present recollection of Mr. Alfred Jingle, 
 or Mr. Charles Fitz-Marshall, in an exhilarating quadrille and a bottle
 
 158 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 of champagne. By that time, Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller, perched 
 on the outside of a stage coach, were every succeeding minute placing 
 a less and less distance between themselves and the good old town of 
 Bury Saint Edmunds. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TOO FULL OF ADVENTURE TO BE BRIEFLY DESCRIBED. 
 
 THERE is no month in the whole year, in which nature wears a more 
 beautiful appearance than in the month of August. Spring has many 
 beauties, and May is a fresh and blooming month, but the charms of 
 this time of year, are enhanced by their contrast with the winter season. 
 August has no such advantage. It comes when we remember nothing 
 but clear skies, green fields, and sweet-smelling flowers when the 
 recollection of snow, and ice, and bleak winds, has faded from our minds 
 as completely as they have disappeared from the earth, and yet what 
 a pleasant time it is. Orchards and corn-fields ring with the hum of 
 labour ; trees bend beneath the thick clusters of rich fruit which bow 
 their branches to the ground ; and the corn, piled in graceful sheaves, 
 or waving in every light breath that sweeps above it, as if it wooed the 
 sickle, tinges the landscape with a golden hue. A mellow softness 
 appears to hang over the whole earth ; the influence of the season seems 
 to extend itself to the very wagon, whose slow motion across the 
 well-reaped field, is perceptible only to the eye, but strikes with no 
 harsh sound upon the ear. 
 
 As the coach rolls swiftly past the fields and orchards which skirt the 
 road, groups of women and children, piling the fruit in sieves, or 
 gathering the scattered ears of corn, pause for an instant from their 
 labour, and shading the sun-burnt face with a still browner hand, gaze 
 upon the passengers with curious eyes, while some stout urchin, too 
 small to work, but too mischievous to be left at home, scrambles over 
 the side of the basket in which he has been deposited for security, and 
 kicks and screams with delight. The reaper stops in his work, and 
 stands with folded arms, looking at the vehicle as it whirls past ; and 
 the rough cart-horses bestow a sleepy glance upon the smart coach 
 team, which says, as plainly as a horse's glance can, " It's all very fine 
 to look at, but slow going, over a heavy field, is better than warm work 
 like that, upon a dusty road, after all." You cast a look behind you, 
 as you turn a corner of the road. The women and children have resumed 
 their labour, the reaper once more stoops to his work, the cart-horses 
 have moved on, and all are again in motion. 
 
 The influence of a scene like this, was not lost upon the well-regulated 
 mind of Mr. Pickwick. Intent upon the resolution he had formed, of 
 exposing the real character of the nefarious Jingle, in any quarter in
 
 * " 
 
 

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 159 
 
 which he might be pursuing his fraudulent designs, he sat at first taci- 
 turn and contemplative, brooding over the means by which his purpose 
 could be best attained. By degrees his attention grew more and more 
 attracted by the objects around him ; and at last he derived as much 
 enjoyment from the ride, as if it had been undertaken for the pleasantest 
 reason in the world. 
 
 " Delightful prospect, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 " Beats the chimbley pots, Sir," replied Mr. Weller., touching his hat. 
 " I suppose you have hardly seen anything but chimney-pots and 
 bricks and mortar, all your life, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, smiling. 
 
 " I worn't always a boots, Sir," said Mr. Weller, with a shake of the 
 head. "I was a vagginer's boy, once." 
 
 " When was that ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " When I vas first pitched neck and crop into the world, to play at 
 leap-frog with its troubles," replied Sam. " I vas a carrier's boy at 
 startin' : then a vagginer's, then a helper, then a boots. Now I'm a 
 gen'lm'n's servant. I shall be a gen'lm'n myself one of these days, per- 
 haps, with a pipe in my mouth, and a summer-house in the back 
 garden. Who knows ? /shouldn't be surprised, for once." 
 " You are quite a philosopher, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 " It runs in the family, I b'lieve Sir," replied Mr. Weller. " My 
 father's wery much in that line, now. If my mother-in-law blows him 
 up, he whistles. She flies in a passion, and breaks his pipe ; he steps 
 out, and gets another. Then she screams wery loud, and falls into 
 'sterics ; and he smokes wery comfortably 'till she comes to agin. 
 That's philosophy Sir, an't it ? " 
 
 " A very good substitute for it, at all events," replied Mr. Pickwick, 
 laughing. " It must have been of great service to you, in the course 
 of your rambling life, Sam." 
 
 " Service Sir," exclaimed Sam. " You may say that. Arter I run 
 away from the carrier, and afore I took up with the vagginer, I had 
 unfurnished lodgin's for a fortnight." 
 
 " Unfurnished lodgings?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes the dry arches of Waterloo Bridge. Fine sleeping-place 
 vithin ten minutes' walk of all the public offices only if there is any 
 objection to it, it is that the situation's rayther too airy. I see some 
 queer sights there." 
 
 " Ah, I suppose you did," said Mr. Pickwick, with an air of consider- 
 able interest. 
 
 " Sights, Sir," resumed Mr. Weller, " as 'ud penetrate your benevo- 
 lent heart, and come out on the other side. You don't see the reg'lar 
 wagrants there ; trust 'em, they knows better than that. Young beggars, 
 male and female, as hasn't made a rise in their profession, takes up 
 their quarters there sometimes ; but it's generally the worn-out, starving, 
 houseless creeturs as rolls themselves up in the dark corners o' them 
 lonesome places poor creeturs as an't up to the twopenny rope." 
 
 " And pray Sam, what is the twopenny rope ? " inquired Mr. Pick- 
 wick.
 
 160 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " The twopenny rope, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, " is just a cheap 
 lodgin'house, vere the beds is twopence a nig-ht." 
 
 " What do they call a bed a rope for ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Bless your innocence, Sir, that a'nt it," replied Sam. " Ven the 
 lady and gen'lra'n as keeps the Hot-el, first begun business, they used 
 to make the beds on the floor ; but this wouldn't do at no price, 'cos 
 instead o' taking a moderate twopenn'orth o' sleep, the lodgers used to 
 lie there half the day. So now they has two ropes, 'bout six foot 
 apart, and three from the floor, which goes right down the room ; and 
 the beds are made of slips of coarse sacking, stretched across 'em." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Weller, " the adwantage o' the plan's hobvious. 
 At six o'clock every mornin', they lets go the ropes at one end, and 
 down falls all the lodgers. 'Consequence is, that being thoroughly 
 waked, they get up wery quietly, and walk away ! " 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Sir," said Sam, suddenly breaking off in his 
 loquacious discourse. " Is this Bury Saint Edmunds ? " 
 
 " It is," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 The coach rattled through the well paved streets of a handsome little 
 town, of thriving and cleanly appearance, and stopped before a large inn 
 situated in a wide open street, nearly facing the old abbey. 
 
 " And this," said Mr. Pickwick, looking up, " is the Angel. We 
 alight here, Sam. But some caution is necessary. Order a private 
 room, and do not mention my name. You understand." 
 
 " Right as a trivet, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, with a wink of intelli- 
 gence ; and having dragged Mr. Pickwick's portmanteau from the hind 
 boot, into which it had been hastily thrown when they joined the coach 
 at Eatanswill, Mr. Weller disappeared on his errand. A private room 
 was speedily engaged ; and into it, Mr. Pickwick was ushered without 
 delay. 
 
 " Now Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " the first thing to be done is to" 
 
 " Order dinner, Sir," interposed Mr. Weller. " Its wery late, Sir." 
 
 (< Ah, so it is," said Mr. Pickwick, looking at his watch. " You are 
 right, Sam." 
 
 " And if I might adwise, Sir," added Mr. Weller, " I'd just have a 
 good night's rest afterwards, and not begin inquiring arter this here 
 deep 'un ' till the mornin'. There's nothin' so refreshin' as sleep, Sir, 
 as the servant-girl said afore she drank the egg-cup-full o' laudanum." 
 
 " I think you are right, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. " But I must first 
 ascertain that he is in the house, and not likely to go away." 
 
 " Leave that to me, Sir," said Sam. " Let me order you a snug 
 little dinner, and make my inquiries below while it's a getting ready; 
 I could worm ev'ry secret out o' the boots's heart, in five minutes." 
 
 " Do so," said Mr. Pickwick : and Mr. Weller at once retired. 
 
 In half an hour, Mr. Pickwick was seated at a very satisfactory dinner ; 
 and in three-quarters Mr. Weller returned with the intelligence that 
 Mr. Charles Fitz-Marshall had ordered his private room to be retained 
 for him, until further notice. He was going to spend the evening at
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 161 
 
 some private house in the neighbourhood, had ordered the boots to sit 
 up until his return, and had taken his servant with him. 
 
 " Now Sir," argued Mr. Weller, when he had concluded his report, 
 " if I can get a talk with this here servant in the mornin', he'll tell me 
 all his master's concerns." 
 
 " How do you know that? " interposed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Bless your heart, Sir, servants always do," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Oh, ah, I forgot that," said Mr. Pickwick. " Well." 
 
 " Then you can arrange what's best to be done, Sir, and we can act 
 accordingly." 
 
 As it appeared that this was the best arrangement that could be made, 
 it was finally agreed upon. Mr. Weller, by his master's permission, 
 retired to spend the evening in his own way ; and was shortly after- 
 wards, elected, by the unanimous voice of the assembled company, into 
 the tap-room chair, in which honourable post he acquitted himself so 
 much to the satisfaction of the gentlemen-frequenters, that their roars 
 of laughter and approbation penetrated to Mr. Pickwick's bed-room, 
 and shortened the term of his natural rest, by at least three hours. 
 
 Early on the ensuing morning, Mr. Weller was dispelling all the 
 feverish remains of the previous evening's conviviality, through the 
 instrumentality of a halfpenny shower-bath (having induced a young 
 gentleman attached to the stable-department, by the offer of that coin, 
 to pump over his head and face, until he was perfectly restored), when 
 he was attracted by the appearance of a young fellow in mulberry- 
 coloured livery, who was sitting on a bench in the yard, reading what 
 appeared to be a hymn-book, with an air of deep abstraction, but who 
 occasionally stole a glance at the individual under the pump, as if he 
 took some interest in his proceedings, nevertheless. 
 
 " You're a rum 'un to look at, you are," thought Mr. Wellerthe 
 first time his eyes encountered the glance of the stranger in the mul- 
 berry-coloured suit, who had a large, sallow, ugly face : very sunken 
 eyes, and a gigantic head, from which depended a quantity of lank 
 hlack hair. " You're a rum 'un," thought Mr..Weller ; and thinking 
 this, he went on washing himself, and thought no more about him. 
 
 Still the man kept glancing from his hymn-book to Sam, and from 
 Sam to his hymn-book, as if he wanted to open a conversation. So at 
 last, Sam, by way of giving him an opportunity, said, with a familiar 
 nod 
 
 " How are you, governor ? " 
 
 " I am happy to say, I am pretty well, Sir," said the man, speaking 
 with great deliberation, and closing the book. " I hope you are the 
 same, Sir ?" 
 
 " Why, if I felt less like a walking brandy-bottle, I shouldn't be 
 quite so staggery this mornin'," replied Sam. " Are you stoppin' in 
 this house, old 'un ?" 
 
 The mulberry man replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " How was it, you worn't one of us, last night?" inquired Sam, 
 scrubbing his face with the towel. " You seem one of the jolly sort
 
 162 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 looks as conwivial as a live trout in a lime-basket," added Mr. Weller, 
 in an under tone. 
 
 " I was out last night, with my master," replied the stranger. 
 
 " What's his name?" inquired Mr. Weller, colouring up very red 
 with sudden excitement, and the friction of the towel combined. 
 
 " Fitz-Marshall," said the mulberry-man. 
 
 " Give us your hand," said Mr. Weller, advancing; " I should like 
 to know you. I like your appearance, old fellow." 
 
 " Well, that is very strange," said the mulberry man, with great 
 simplicity of manner. " I like your's so much, that I wanted to speak 
 to you, from the very first moment I saw you under the pump." 
 
 "Did you though?" 
 
 " Upon my word. Now, isn't that curious ? " 
 
 " Wery sing'ler," said Sam, inwardly congratulating himself upon the 
 softness of the stranger. " What's your name, my patriarch ?" 
 
 " Job." 
 
 " And a wery good name it is ; only one, I know, that ain't got a 
 nickname to it. What's the other name ? " 
 
 " Trotter," said the stranger. " W T hat is yours ? " 
 
 Sam bore in mind his master's caution, and replied, 
 
 " My name's Walker ; my master's name's Wilkins. Will you take 
 a drop o' somethin' this mornin', Mr. Trotter ? " 
 
 Mr. Trotter acquiesced in this agreeable proposal : and having 
 deposited his book in his coat-pocket/accompanied Mr. Weller to the 
 tap, where they were soon occupied in discussing an exhilarating com- 
 pound, formed by mixing together, in a pewter vessel, certain quantities 
 of British Hollands, and the fragrant essence of the clove. 
 
 " And what sort of a place have you got ? " inquired Sam, as he 
 filled his companion's glass, for the second time. 
 
 " Bad," said Job, smacking his lips, " very bad." 
 
 " You don't mean that," said Sam. 
 
 " I do, indeed. Worse than that, my master's going to be married." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Yes ; and worse than that, too, he's going to run away with an 
 immense rich heiress, from boarding-school." 
 
 " What a dragon," said Sam, refilling his companion's glass. " It's 
 some boarding-school in this town, I suppose, a'nt it ? " 
 
 Now, although this question was put in the most careless tone im- 
 aginable, Mr. Job Trotter plainly showed, by gestures, that he perceived 
 his new friend's anxiety to draw forth an answer to it. He emptied 
 his glass, looked mysteriously at his companion, winked both of his 
 small eyes, one after the other, and finally made a motion with his arm, 
 as if he were working an imaginary pump-handle : thereby intimating 
 that he (Mr. Trotter) considered himself as undergoing the process of 
 being pumped, by Mr. Samuel Weller. 
 
 " No, no," said Mr. Trotter, in conclusion, " that's not to be told to 
 everybody. That is a secret a great secret, Mr. Walker." 
 
 As the mulberry man said this, he turned his glass upside down, by
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 163 
 
 way of reminding his companion that he had nothing left wherewith 
 to slake his thirst. Sam observed the hint ; and feeling the delicate 
 manner in which it was conveyed, ordered the pewter vessel to be 
 refilled, whereat the small eyes of the mulberry man glistened. 
 
 " And so it's a secret," said Sam. 
 
 <: I should rather suspect it was," said the mulberry man, sipping his 
 liquor, with a complacent face. 
 
 " I suppose your mas'r's very rich ?" said Sam. 
 
 Mr. Trotter smiled, and holding his glass in his left hand, gave four 
 distinct slaps on the pocket of his mulberry indescribables with his 
 right, as if to intimate that his master might have done the same 
 without alarming anybody much by the chinking of coin. 
 
 " Ah," said Sam, " that's the game, is it ?" 
 
 The mulberry man nodded significantly. 
 
 " Well, and don't you think, old feller," remonstrated Mr. Weller, 
 " that if you let your master take in this here young lady, you're a 
 precious rascal?" 
 
 " I know that," said Job Trotter, turning upon his companion a 
 countenance of deep contrition, and groaning slightly. " I know 
 that and that's what it is that preys upon my mind. But what am 
 I to do?" 
 
 " Do ! " said Sam ; " di-wulge to the missis, and give up your 
 master." 
 
 " Who'd believe me?" replied Job Trotter. " The young lady's 
 considered the very picture of innocence and discretion. She'd deny 
 it, and so would my master. Who'd believe me ? I should lose my 
 place, and get indicted for a conspiracy, or some such thing ; that's all 
 I should take by my motion." 
 
 " There's somethin' in that," said Sam, ruminating ; " there's some- 
 thin' in that." 
 
 " If I knew any respectable gentleman who would take the matter 
 up/' continued Mr. Trotter, " I might have some hope of preventing 
 the elopement ; but there's the same'difficulty, Mr. Walker, just the 
 same. I know no gentleman in this strange place ; and ten to one if 
 I did, whether he would believe my story." 
 
 " Come this way," said Sam, suddenly jumping up, and grasping 
 the mulberry man by the arm. " My mas'r's the man you want, I see." 
 And after a slight resistance on the part of Job Trotter, Sam led his 
 newly-found friend to the apartment of Mr. Pickwick, to whom he 
 presented him, together with a brief summary of the dialogue we have 
 just repeated. 
 
 " I am very sorry to betray my master, Sir," said Job Trotter, 
 applying to his eyes a pink check pocket handkerchief of about three 
 inches square. 
 
 " The feeling does you a great deal of honour," replied Mr. Pick- 
 wick ; " but it is your duty, nevertheless." 
 
 " I know it is my duty, Sir," replied Job, with great emotion. " We 
 should ail try to discharge our duty, Sir, and I humbly endeavour to 
 discharge mine, Sir ; but it is a hard trial to betray a master, Sir,
 
 164 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 whose clothes you wear, and whose bread you eat, even though he is a 
 scoundrel, Sir." 
 
 " You are a very good fellow," said Mr. Pickwick, much affected ; 
 " an honest fellow." 
 
 " Come, come," interposed Sam, who had witnessed Mr. Trotter's 
 tears with considerable impatience, " blow this here water-cart bis'ness. 
 It won't do no good, this won't." 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, reproachfully, " I am sorry to find that 
 you have so little respect for this young man's feelings." 
 
 " His feelins is all wery well, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; " and as 
 they're so wery fine, and it's a pity he should lose 'em, I think he'd 
 better keep 'em in his own bussum, than let 'em ewaporate in hot 
 water, 'specially as they do no good. Tears never yet wound up a 
 clock, or worked a steam ingin'. The next time you go out to a 
 smoking party, young feller, fill your pipe with that 'ere reflection ; 
 and for the present, just put that bit of pink gingham into your pocket. 
 'T'a'n't so handsome that you need keep waving it about, as if you was 
 a tight-rope dancer." 
 
 " My man is in the right," said Mr. Pickwick, accosting Job, 
 " although his mode of expressing his opinion is somewhat homely, and 
 occasionally incomprehensible." 
 
 " He is, Sir, very right," said Mr. Trotter, " and I will give way no 
 longer." 
 
 " Very well," said Mr. Pickwick. " Now, where is this boarding- 
 school ? " 
 
 " It is a large, old, red-brick house, just outside the town, Sir," 
 replied Job Trotter. 
 
 " And when," said Mr. Pickwick, " when is this villainous design 
 to be carried into execution when is this elopement to take place ? " 
 
 " To-night, Sir," replied Job. 
 
 " To-night ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " This very night, Sir," replied Job Trotter. " That is what 
 alarms me so much." 
 
 " Instant measures must be taken," said Mr. Pickwick. " I will 
 see the lady who keeps the establishment, immediately." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir," said Job, " but that course of proceeding 
 will never do." 
 
 " Why not ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " My master, Sir, is a very artful roan." 
 
 " I know he is," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " And he has so wound himself round the old lady's heart, Sir," 
 resumed Job, " that she would believe nothing to his prejudice, if you 
 went down on your bare knees, and swore it ; especially as you have 
 no proof but the word of a servant, who, for anything she knows (and 
 my master would be sure to say so), was discharged for some fault, and 
 does this, in revenge." 
 
 " What had better be done, then ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Nothing but taking him in the very fact of eloping, will convince 
 the old lady, Sir," replied Job.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 165 
 
 " All them old cats will run their heads agin mile-stones," observed 
 Mr. Weller in a parenthesis. 
 
 " But this taking- him in the very act of elopement, would be a very 
 difficult thing to accomplish, I fear," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I don't know, Sir," said Mr. Trotter, after a few moments' reflection. 
 " I think it might be very easily done." 
 
 " How ? " was Mr. Pickwick's inquiry. 
 
 " Why," replied Mr. Trotter, "my master and I, being in the con- 
 fidence of the two servants, will be secreted in the kitchen at ten o'clock. 
 When the family have retired to rest, we shall come out of the kitchen, 
 and the young lady out of her bed-room. A post-chaise will be waiting, 
 and away we go." 
 
 Well," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Well, Sir, I have been thinking that if you were waiting in the 
 garden behind, alone " 
 
 " Alone," said Mr. Pickwick. c: Why alone ? " 
 
 " I thought it very natural," replied Job, " that the old lady wouldn't 
 like such an unpleasant discovery to be made before more persons 
 than can possibly be helped. The young lady too, Sir consider her 
 feelings." 
 
 " You are very right," said Mr. Pickwick. " The consideration 
 evinces great delicacy of feeling. Go on ; you are very right." 
 
 " Well Sir, I was thinking that if you were waiting in the back 
 garden alone, and I was to let you in, at the door which opens into it, 
 from the end of the passage, at exactly half-past eleven o'clock, you 
 would be just in the very moment of time, to assist me in frustrating 
 the designs of this bad man, by whom I have been unfortunately 
 ensnared." Here Mr. Trotter sighed deeply. 
 
 " Don't distress yourself on that account," said Mr. Pickwick, " if 
 he had one grain of the delicacy of feeling which distinguishes you, 
 humble as your station is, I should have some hopes of him." 
 
 Job Trotter bowed low ; and in spite of Mr. Weller's previous remon- 
 strance, the tears again rose to his eyes. 
 
 " I never see such a feller," said Sara. " Blessed if I don't think he's 
 got a main in his head as is always turned on.' 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, with great severity. ee Hold your 
 tongue." 
 
 " Wery well, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I don't like this plan," said Mr. Pickwick, after deep meditation. 
 rt Why cannot I communicate with the young lady's friends ? " 
 
 " Because they live one hundred miles from here, Sir," responded Job 
 Trotter. 
 
 " That's a clincher , said Mr. Weller, aside. 
 
 " Then this garden," resumed Mr. Pickwick. " How am I to get 
 into it ? " 
 
 " The wall is very low, Sir, and your servant will give you a leg up." 
 
 " My servant will give me a leg up," repeated Mr. Pickwick, mecha- 
 nically. " You will be sure to be near this door, that you speak of? " 
 
 " You cannot mistake it, Sir ; it's the only one that opens into the 
 p 2
 
 166 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 garden. Tap at it, when you hear the clock strike, and I will open it 
 instantly." 
 
 ' I don't like the plan," said Mr. Pickwick ; " but as I see no other, 
 and as the happiness of this young lady's whole life is at stake, I adopt 
 it. I shall be sure to be there." 
 
 Thus, for the second time, did Mr. Pickwick's innate good-feeling 
 involve him in an enterprise, from which he would most willingly have 
 stood aloof. 
 
 " What is the name of the house ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 " Westgate House, Sir. You turn a little to the right when you get 
 to the end of the town ; it stands by itself, some little distance off the 
 high road, with the name on a brass plate on the gate." 
 
 " I know it," said Mr. Pickwick. " I observed it once before, when 
 I was in this town. You may depend upon me." 
 
 Mr. Trotter made another bow, and turned to depart, when Mr. 
 Pickwick thrust a guinea into his hand. 
 
 " You're a fine fellow," said Mr. Pickwick, " and I admire your 
 goodness of heart. No thanks. Remember eleven o'clock." 
 
 " There is no fear of my forgetting it, Sir," replied Job Trotter. 
 With these words he left the room, followed by Sam. 
 
 " I say," said the latter, " not a bad notion that 'ere crying. I'd cry 
 like a rain-water spout in a shower, on such good terms. How do you 
 do it ? " 
 
 " It comes from the heart, Mr. Walker," replied Job solemnly. 
 " Good morning, Sir." 
 
 *' You're a soft customer, you are ; we've got it all out o' you, any 
 ho " thought Mr. Weller, as Job walked away. 
 
 We cannot state the precise nature of the thoughts which passed 
 through Mr. Trotter's mind, because we don't know what they were. 
 
 The day wore on, evening came, and at a little before ten o'clock 
 Sam Weller reported that Mr. Jingle and Job had gone oiit together, 
 that their luggage was packed up, and that they had ordered a chaise. 
 The plot was evidently in execution, as Mr. Trotter had foretold. 
 
 Half-past ten o'clock arrived, and it was time for Mr. Pickwick to 
 issue forth on his delicate errand. Resisting Sam's tender of his great 
 coat, in order that he might have no incumbrance in scaling the wall, 
 he set forth, followed by his attendant. 
 
 There was a bright moon, but it was behind the clouds. It was a 
 fine dry night, but it was most uncommonly dark. Paths, hedges, 
 fields, houses, and trees, were enveloped in one deep shade. The atmo- 
 sphere was hot and sultry, the summer lightning quivered faintly on the 
 verge of the horizon, and was the only sight that varied the dull gloom 
 in which every thing was wrapped sound there was none, except the 
 distant barking of some restless house-dog. 
 
 They found the house, read the brass-plate, walked round the wall, 
 and stopped at that portion of it which divided them from the bottom 
 of the garden. 
 
 " You will return to the inn, Sam, when you have assisted me over," 
 said Mr. Pickwick.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 167 
 
 Wery well, Sir." 
 
 " And you will sit up, 'till I return." 
 
 " Cert'nly, Sir." 
 
 " Take hold of my leg ; and, when I say ' Over/ raise me gently." 
 
 All right, Sir." 
 
 Having settled these preliminaries, Mr. Pickwick grasped the top of the 
 wall, and gave the word ".Over," which was very literally obeyed. Whether 
 his body partook in some degree of the elasticity of his mind, or whether 
 Mr. Weller's notions of a gentle push were of a somewhat rougher 
 description than Mr. Pickwick's, the immediate effect of his assistance 
 was to jerk that immortal gentleman completely over the wall on to the 
 bed beneath, where, after crushing three gooseberry-bushes and a rose- 
 tree, he finally alighted at full length. 
 
 " You ha'n't hurt yourself, I hope, Sir," said Sam, in a loud whisper, 
 as soon as he recovered from the surprise consequent upon the myste- 
 rious disappearance of his master. 
 
 < I have not hurt myself, Sam, certainly," replied Mr. Pickwick, 
 from the other side of the wall, " but I rather think that you have 
 hurt me" 
 
 " I hope not, Sir," said Sam. 
 
 " Never mind," said Mr. Pickwick, rising, " it's nothing but a few 
 scratches. Go away, or we shall be overheard." 
 
 Good-bye, Sir." 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 With stealthy steps Sam Weller departed, leaving Mr. Pickwick 
 alone in the garden. 
 
 Lights occasionally appeared in the different windows of the house, 
 or glanced from the staircases, as if the inmates were retiring to rest. 
 Not caring to go too near the door, until the appointed time, Mr. Pick- 
 wick crouched into an angle of the wall, and awaited its arrival. 
 
 It was a situation which might well have depressed the spirits of 
 many a man. Mr. Pickwick, however, felt neither depression nor mis- 
 giving. He knew that his purpose was in the main a good one, and he 
 placed implicit reliance on the high-minded Job. It was dull, certainly ; 
 not to say, dreary ; but a contemplative man can always employ himself 
 in meditation. Mr. Pickwick had meditated himself into a doze, when 
 he was roused by the chimes of the neighbouring church ringing out 
 the hour half-past eleven. 
 
 " That's the time," thought Mr. Pickwick, getting cautiously on his 
 feet. He looked up at the house. The lights had disappeared, and the 
 shutters were closed all in bed, no doubt. He walked on tip-toe to 
 the door, and gave a gentle tap. Two or three minutes passing with- 
 out any reply, he gave another tap rather louder, and then another 
 rather louder than that. 
 
 At length the sound of feet was audible upon the stairs, and then the 
 light of a candle shone through the key-hole of the door. There was 
 a good deal of unchaining and unbolting, and the door was slowly 
 opened. 
 
 Now the door opened outwards : and as the door opened wider and
 
 168 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 wider, Mr. Pickwick receded behind it, more and more. What was his 
 astonishment when he just peeped out, by way of caution, to see that 
 the person who had opened it was not Job Trotter, but a servant-girl 
 with a candle in her hand ! Mr. Pickwick drew in his head again, with 
 the swiftness displayed by that admirable melo-dramatic performer, 
 Punch, when he lies in wait for the flat-headed comedian with the tin 
 box of music. 
 
 " It must have been the cat, Sarah," said the girl, addressing- herself 
 to some one in the house. " Puss, puss, puss tit, tit, tit." 
 
 But no animal being decoyed by these blandishments, the girl slowly 
 closed the door, and re-fastened it ; leaving Mr. Pickwick drawn up 
 straight against the wall. 
 
 " This is very curious," thought Mr. Pickwick. " They are sitting- 
 lip, beyond their usual hour, I suppose. Extremely unfortunate, that 
 they should have chosen this night, of all others, for such a purpose 
 exceedingly." And with these thoughts, Mr. Pickwick cautiously 
 retired to the angle of the wall in which he had been before ensconced ; 
 waiting until such time as he might deem it safe to repeat the signal. 
 
 He had not been here five minutes, when a vivid flash of lightning 
 was followed by a loud peal of thunder that crashed and rolled away in 
 the distance with terrific noise then came another flash of lightning, 
 brighter than the other, and a second peal of thunder louder than the 
 first ; and then down came the rain, with a force and fury that swept 
 every thing before it. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was perfectly aware that a tree is a very dangerous 
 neighbour in a thunder-storm. He had a tree on his right, a tree on 
 his left, a third before him, and a fourth behind. If he remained where 
 he was, he might fall the victim of an accident ; if he showed himself 
 in the centre of the garden, he might be consigned to a constable ; 
 once or twice he tried to scale the wall, but having no other legs this 
 time, than those with which Nature had furnished him, the only effect 
 of his struggles was to inflict a variety of very unpleasant gratings 
 on his knees and shins, and to throw him into a state of the most 
 profuse perspiration. 
 
 " What a dreadful situation," said Mr. Pickwick, pausing to wipe 
 his brow after this exercise. He looked up at the house all was dark. 
 They must be gone to bed now. He would try the signal again. 
 
 He walked on tip-toe across the moist gravel, and tapped at the door. 
 He held his breath, and listened at the key-hole. No reply : very odd. 
 Another knock. He listened again. There was a low whispering 
 inside, and then a voice cried 
 " Who's there ? " 
 
 " That's not Job," thought Mr. Pickwick, hastily drawing himself 
 straight up against the wall again. " It's a woman." 
 
 He had scarcely had time to form this conclusion, when a window 
 above stairs, was thrown up, and three or four female voices repeated 
 the query " Who's there ? " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick dared not move hand or foot. It was clear that the 
 whole establishment was roused. He made up his mind to remain where
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 169 
 
 he was, until the alarm had subsided : and then to make a supernatural 
 effort, and get over the wall, or perish in the attempt. 
 
 I ,ike all Mr. Pickwick's determinations, this was the best that could 
 be made under the circumstances ; but, unfortunately, it was founded 
 upon the assumption that they would not venture to open the door 
 again. What was his discomfiture, when he heard the chain and bolts 
 withdrawn, and saw the door slowly opening, wider and wider ! He 
 retreated into the corner, step by step ; but do what he would, the inter- 
 position of his own person, prevented its being opened to its utmost 
 width. 
 
 " Who's there ? " screamed a numerous chorus of treble voices from 
 the stair-case inside, consisting of the spinster lady of the establish- 
 ment, three teachers, five female servants, and thirty boarders, all half- 
 dressed, and in a forest of curl-papers. 
 
 Of course Mr. Pickwick didn't say who was there : and then the 
 burden of the chorus changed into " Lor' ! I am so frightened." 
 
 " Cook," said the lady abbess, who took care to be on the top stair, 
 the very last of the group " Cook, why don't you go a little way into 
 the garden ? " 
 
 " Please ma'am, I don't like," responded the cook. 
 
 " Lor', what a stupid thing that cook is ! " said the thirty boarders. 
 
 " Cook," said the lady abbess, with great dignity ; " don't answer 
 me, if you please. I insist upon your looking into the garden, imme- 
 diately." 
 
 Here the cook began to cry, and the house-maid said it was " a 
 shame ! " for which partisanship she received a month's warning on 
 the spot. 
 
 " Do you hear, cook ? " said the lady abbess, stamping her foot, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " Don't you hear your missis, cook ? " said the three teachers. 
 
 " W hat an impudent thing, that cook is ! " said the thirty boarders. 
 
 The unfortunate cook, thus strongly urged, advanced a step or two, 
 and holding her candle just where it prevented her seeing any thing at 
 all, declared there was nothing there, and it must have been the wind ; 
 and the door was just going to be closed in consequence, when an 
 inquisitive boarder, who had been peeping between the hinges, set up a 
 fearful screaming, which called back the cook and the housemaid, and 
 all the more adventurous, in no time. 
 
 " What is the matter with Miss Smithers ? " said the lady abbess, as 
 the aforesaid Miss Smithers proceeded to go into hysterics of four 
 young lady power. 
 
 " Lor, Miss Smithers dear," said the other nine-and-twenty 
 hoarders. 
 
 " Oh, the man the man behind the door ! " screamed Miss 
 Smithers. 
 
 The lady abbess no sooner heard this appalling cry, than she retreated 
 to her own bed-room, double-locked the door, and fainted away all com- 
 fortably. The boarders, and the teachers, and the servants, fell back
 
 170 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 upon the stairs, and upon each other ; and never was such a screaming, 
 and fainting, and struggling, beheld. In the midst of the tumult, Mr. 
 Pickwick emerged from his concealment, and presented himself amongst 
 them. 
 
 " Ladies dear ladies," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh, he says we're dear," cried the oldest and ugliest teacher. " Oh 
 the wretch." 
 
 " Ladies," roared Mr. Pickwick, rendered desperate by the danger of 
 his situation. " Hear me. I am no robber. I want the lady of the 
 house." 
 
 " Oh, what a ferocious monster ! " screamed another teacher. " He 
 wants Miss Tomkins." 
 
 Here there was a general scream. 
 
 " Ring the alarm bell, somebody," cried a dozen voices. 
 
 " Don't don't," shouted Mr. Pickwick. " Look at me. Do I 
 look like a robber ? My dear ladies you may bind me hand and leg, 
 or lock me up in a closet, if you like. Only hear what I have got to 
 say only bear me." 
 
 " How did you come in our garden ? " faultered the house-maid. 
 
 " Call the lady of the house, and I'll tell her everything every- 
 thing :" said Mr. Pickwick, exerting his lungs to the utmost pitch. 
 "Call her only be quiet, and call her, and you shall hear every- 
 thing." 
 
 It might have been Mr. Pickwick's appearance, or it might have 
 been his manner, or it might have been the temptation so irresistible 
 to a female mind of hearing something at present enveloped in mys- 
 tery, that reduced the more reasonable portion of the establishment 
 (some four individuals) to a state of comparative quiet. By them it 
 was proposed, as a test of Mr. Pickwick's sincerity, that he should 
 immediately submit to personal restraint ; and that gentleman having 
 consented to hold a conference with Miss Tomkins, from the interior 
 of a closet in which the day boarders hung their bonnets and sandwich- 
 bags, he at once stepped into it, of his own accord, and was securely 
 locked in. This revived the others ; and Miss Tomkins having been 
 brought to, and brought down, the conference began. 
 
 " What did you do in my garden, man ? " said Miss Tomkins, in a 
 faint voice. 
 
 " I came to warn you, that one of your young ladies was going to 
 elope to-night," replied Mr. Pickwick, from the interior of the closet. 
 
 " Elope I " exclaimed Miss Tomkins, the three teachers, the thirty 
 boarders, and the five servants. " Who with ? " 
 
 " Your friend, Mr. Charles Fitz-Marshall." 
 
 " My friend ! I don't know any such person." 
 
 Well ; Mr. Jingle, then." 
 
 " I never heard the name in my life." 
 
 " Then, I have been deceived, and deluded," said Mr. Pickwick. " I 
 have been the victim of a conspiracy a foul and base conspiracy. Send 
 to the Angel, my dear ma'am, if you don't believe me. Send to the 
 Angel for Mr. Pickwick's man-servant, I implore you, ma'am."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 171 
 
 " He must be respectable he keeps a man-servant," said Miss Tom- 
 kins to the writing and ciphering governess. 
 
 " It's my opinion, Miss Tomkins," said the writing and ciphering 
 governess, " that his man-servant keeps him. / thinkjie's a madman, 
 Miss Tomkins, and the other's his keeper." 
 
 " I think you are very right, Miss Gwynn," responded Miss Tomkins. 
 <f Let two of the servants repair to the Angel, and let the others 
 remain here, to protect us." 
 
 So two of the servants were despatched to the Angel in search of 
 Mr. Samuel Weller : and the remaining three stopped behind to protect 
 Miss Torakins, and the three teachers, and the thirty boarders. And 
 Mr. Pickwick sat down in the closet, beneath a grove of sandwich bags, 
 and awaited the return of the messengers, with all the philosophy and 
 fortitude he could summon to his aid. 
 
 An hour and a half elapsed before they came back, and when they 
 did come, Mr. Pickwiek recognised, in addition to the voice of Mr. 
 Samuel Weller, two other voices, the tones of which struck familiarly 
 on his ear ; but whose they were, he could not for the life of him call 
 to mind. 
 
 A very brief conversation ensued. The door was unlocked. Mr. 
 Pickwick stepped out of the closet, and found himself in the presence 
 of the whole establishment of Westgate House, Mr. Samuel Weller, 
 and old Wardle, and his destined son-in-law, Mr. Trundle ! 
 
 " My dear friend," said Mr. Pickwick, running forward and grasping 
 Wardle's hand, " my dear friend, pray, for Heaven's sake, explain to 
 this lady the unfortunate and dreadful situation in which I am placed. 
 You must have heard it from my servant ; say, at all events, my dear 
 fellow, that I am neither a robber nor a madman." 
 
 " I have said so, my dear friend. I have said so already," replied 
 Mr. Wardle, shaking the right hand of his friend, while Mr. Trundle 
 shook the left. 
 
 " And whoever says, or has said, he is," interposed Mr. Weller, 
 stepping forward, " says that which is not the truth, but so far from it, 
 on the contrairy, quite the rewerse. And if there's any number o' 
 men on these here premises as has said so, I shall be wery happy to 
 give 'em all a wery convincing proof o' their being mistaken, in this 
 here wery room, if these wery respectable ladies '11 have the goodness to 
 retire, and order 'em up, one at a time." Having delivered this defiance 
 with great volubility, Mr. Weller struck his open palm emphatically 
 with his clenched fist, and winked pleasantly on Miss Tomkins, the 
 intensity of whose horror at his supposing it within the bounds of possi- 
 bility that there could be any men on the premises of Westgate House 
 Establishment for Young Ladies, it is impossible to describe. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's explanation having been already partially made, was 
 soon concluded. But neither in the course of his walk home with his 
 friends, nor afterwards when seated before a blazing fire at the supper 
 he so much needed, could a single observation be drawn from him. He 
 seemed bewildered and amazed. Once, and only once, he turned round 
 to Mr. Wardle, and said 
 
 " How did you come here? "
 
 172 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Trundle and I came down here, for some good shooting- on the first," 
 replied Wardle. " We arrived to-night and were astonished to hear 
 from your servant that you were here too. But I am glad you are," 
 said the jolly old fellow, slapping him on the back. " I am glad you 
 are. We shall have a jolly party on the first, and we'll give Winkle 
 another chance eh, old boy ? " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick made no reply ; he did not even ask after his friends 
 at Dingley Dell, and shortly afterwards retired for the night, desiring 
 Sam to fetch his candle when he rung. 
 
 The bell did ring in due course, and Mr. Weller presented himself. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, looking out from under the bed- 
 clothes. 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick paused, and Mr. W T eller snuffed the candle. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick again, as if with a desperate effort. 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Weller, once more. 
 
 " Where is that Trotter?" 
 
 " Job, Sir ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Gone, Sir." 
 
 " With his master, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Friend or master, or whatever he is, he's gone with him," replied 
 Mr. Weller. " There's a pair on 'em, Sir." 
 
 " Jingle suspected ray design, and set that fellow on you, with this 
 story, I suppose?" said Mr. Pickwick, half choking. 
 
 ""just that, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " It was all false, of course ? " 
 
 All, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. " Reg'lar do, Sir ; artful dodge." 
 
 " I don't think he'll escape us quite so easily the next time, Sam?" 
 said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I don't think he will, Sir." 
 
 " Whenever I meet that Jingle again, wherever it is, J ' said Mr. 
 Pickwick, raising himself in bed, and indenting his pillow with a tre- 
 mendous blow, " I'll inflict personal chastisement on him, in addition 
 to the exposure he so richly merits. I will, or my name is not Pick- 
 wick." 
 
 " And venever I catches hold o' that there melan-cholly chap with 
 the black hair," said Sam, " if I don't bring some real water into his 
 eyes, for once in a way, my name a'nt Weller. Good night, Sir." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SHOWING THAT AN ATTACK OF RHEUMATISM, IN SOME CASES, 
 ACTS AS A QUICKENER TO INVENTIVE GENIUS. 
 
 THE constitution of Mr. Pickwick, though able to sustain a very 
 considerable amount of exertion and fatigue, was not proof against such 
 a combination of attacks as he had undergone on the memorable night, 
 recorded in the last chapter. The process of being washed in the night
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 173 
 
 air, and rough-dried in a close closet, is as dangerous as it is peculiar. 
 Mr. Pickwick was laid up with an attack of rheumatism. 
 
 But although the bodily powers of the great man were thus impaired, 
 his mental energies retained their pristine vigour. His spirits were 
 elastic ; his good humour was restored. Even the vexation consequent 
 upon his recent adventure had vanished from his mind ; and he could 
 join in the hearty laughter which any allusion to it excited in Mr. 
 VVardle, without anger and without embarrassment. Nay, more. 
 During the two days Mr. Pickwick was confined to his bed, Sam 
 was his constant attendant. On the first, he endeavoured to amuse his 
 Blaster by anecdote and conversation ; on the second Mr. Pickwick 
 demanded his writing-desk, and pen and ink, and was deeply engaged 
 during the whole day. On the third, being able to sit up in his bed- 
 chamber, he despatched bis valet with a message to Mr. Wardle and 
 Mr. Trundle, intimating that if they would take their wine there, that 
 evening, they would greatly oblige him. The invitation was most 
 willingly accepted ; and when they were seated over their wine, Mr 
 Pickwick with sundry blushes, produced the following little tale, as 
 having been "edited" by himself, during his recent indisposition, from 
 his notes of Mr. Weller's unsophisticated recital. 
 
 " THE PARISH CLERK A TALE OF TRUE LOVE. 
 
 " ONCE upon a time, in a very small country town, at a considerable 
 distance from London, there lived a little man named Nathaniel Pipkin, 
 who was the parish clerk of the little town, and lived in a little 
 house in the little high street, withinl ten minutes' walk of the little 
 church ; and who was to be found every day from nine till four, teaching 
 a little learning to the little boys. Nathaniel Pipkin was a harmless, 
 inoffensive, good-natured being, with a turned-up nose, and rather 
 turned-in legs, a cast in his eye, and a halt in his gait ; and he divided 
 his time between the church and his school, verily believing that there 
 existed not, on the face of the earth, so clever a man as the curate, so 
 imposing an apartment as the vestry-room, or so well-ordered a semi- 
 nary as his own. Once, and only once, in his life, Nathaniel Pipkin 
 had seen a bishop a real bishop, with his arms in lawn sleeves, and 
 his head in a wig. He had seen him walk, and heard him talk at a 
 confirmation, on which momentous occasion Nathaniel Pipkin was so 
 overcome with reverence and awe, when the aforesaid bishop laid his 
 hand on his head, that he fainted right clean away, and was borne out of 
 church in the arms of the beadle. 
 
 " This was a great event, a tremendous era, in Nathaniel Pipkin's 
 life, and it was about the only one that had ever occurred to ruffle the 
 smooth current of his quiet existence, when happening one fine after- 
 noon, in a fit of mental abstraction, to raise his eyes from the slate on 
 which he was devising some tremendous problem in compound addition 
 for an offending urchin to solve, they suddenly rested on the blooming 
 countenance of Maria Lobbs, the only daughter of old Lobbs the great 
 saddler over the way. Now, the eyes of Mr. Pipkins had rested on the 
 pretty face of Maria Lobbs many a time and oft before, at church and 
 elsewhere : but the eyes of Maria Lobbs had never looked so bright,
 
 174 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 the cheeks of Maria Lobbs had never looked so ruddy, as upon this 
 particular occasion. No wonder then, that Nathaniel Pipkin was unable 
 to take his eyes from the countenance of Miss Lobbs ; no wonder that 
 Miss Lobbs, finding herself stared at by a young man, withdrew her 
 head from the window out of which she had been peeping, and shut 
 the casement and pulled down the blind ; no wonder that Nathaniel 
 Pipkin, immediately thereafter, fell upon the young urchin who had 
 previously offended, and cuffed and knocked him to his heart's content. 
 All this was very natural, and there's nothing at all to wonder at 
 about it. 
 
 " It is matter of wonder, though, that any one of Mr. Nathaniel 
 Pipkin's retiring'disposition, nervous temperament, and most particularly 
 diminutive income, should from this day forth, have dared to aspire to 
 the hand and heart of the only daughter of the fiery old Lobbs of 
 old Lobbs the great saddler, who could have bought up the whole 
 village at one stroke of his pen, and never felt the outlay old Lobbs, 
 who was well known to have heaps of money, invested in the bank 
 at the nearest market town who was reported to have countless and 
 inexhaustible treasures, hoarded up in the little iron safe with the big 
 key-hole, over the chimney-piece in the back parlour and who, it was 
 well known, on festive occasions garnished his board with a real silver 
 tea-pot, cream ewer, and sugar-basin, which he was wont, in the pride 
 of his heart, to boast should be his daughter's property when she found 
 a man to her mind. I repeat it, to be matter of profound astonishment 
 and intense wonder, that Nathaniel Pipkin shotild have had the temerity 
 to cast his eyes in this direction. But love is blind, and Nathaniel had 
 a cast in his eye : and perhaps these two circumstances, taken together, 
 prevented his seeing the matter, in its proper light. 
 
 " Now, if old Lobbs had entertained the most remote or distant idea 
 of the state of the affections of Nathaniel Pipkin, he would just Lave 
 razed the school-room to the ground, or exterminated its master from 
 the surface of the earth, or committed some other outrage and atrocity 
 of an equally ferocious and violent description ; for he was a terrible 
 old fellow, that Lobbs, when his pride was injured, or his blood was up. 
 Swear ! Such trains of oaths would come rolling and pealing over the 
 way, sometimes, when he was denouncing the idleness of the bony 
 apprentice with the thin legs, that Nathaniel Pipkin would shake in 
 his shoes with horror, and the hair of the pupils' heads would stand on 
 end with fright. 
 
 " Well, day after day, when school was over, and the pupils gone, 
 did Nathaniel Pipkin sit himself down at the front window, and while 
 he feigned to be reading a book, throw sidelong glances over the way 
 in search of the bright eyes of Maria Lobbs ; and he hadn't sat there 
 many days, before the bright eyes appeared at an upper window, 
 apparently deeply engaged in reading too. This was delightful, and, 
 gladdening to the heart of Nathaniel Pipkin. It was something to sit 
 there for hours together, and look upon that pretty face when the eyes 
 were cast down ; but, when Maria Lobbs began to raise her eyes from 
 her book, and dart their rays in the direction of Nathaniel Pipkin, his 
 delight and admiration were perfectly boundless. At last, one day
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 175 
 
 when he knew old Lobbs was out, Nathaniel Pipkin had the temerity 
 to kiss his hand to Maria Lobbs ; and Maria Lobbs, instead of shutting 
 the window, and pulling- down the blind, kissed hers to him, and smiled. 
 Upon which, Nathaniel Pipkin determined, that, come what might, he 
 would develope the state of his feelings, without further delay. 
 
 A prettier foot, a gayer heart, a more dimpled face, or a smarter 
 form, never bounded so lightly over the earth they graced, as did those 
 of Maria Lobbs, the old saddler's daughter. There was a roguish 
 twinkle in her sparkling eyes, that would have made its way to far less 
 susceptible bosoms than that of Nathaniel Pipkin ; and there was such 
 a joyous sound in her merry laugh, that the sternest misanthrope must 
 have smiled to hear it. Even old Lobbs himself, in the very height of 
 his ferocity, couldn't resist the coaxing of his pretty daughter ; and 
 when she, and her cousin Kate an arch, impudent-looking, bewitching 
 little person made a dead set upon the old man together, as, to say 
 the truth, they very often did, he could have refused them nothing, 
 even had they asked for a portion of the countless and inexhaustible 
 treasures, which were hidden from the light, in the iron safe . 
 
 " Nathaniel Pipkin's heart beat high within him, when he saw this 
 enticing little couple some hundred yards before him, one summer's 
 evening, in the very field in which he had many a time strolled about 
 till night-time, and pondered on the beauty of Maria Lobbs. But 
 though he had often thought then, how briskly he would walk up to 
 Maria Lobbs and tell her of his passion if he could only meet her, he 
 felt, now that she was unexpectedly before him, all the blood in his 
 body mounting to his face, manifestly to the great detriment of his legs, 
 which, deprived of their usual portion, trembled beneath him. When 
 they stopped to gather a hedge-flower, or listen to a bird, Nathaniel 
 Pipkin stopped too, and pretended to be absorbed in meditation, as 
 indeed he really was ; for he was thinking what on earth he should ever 
 do, when they turned back, as they inevitably must in time, and meet him 
 face to face. But though he was afraid to make up to them, he couldn't 
 hear to lose sight of them ; so when they walked faster he walked faster, 
 when they lingered he lingered, and when they stopped he stopped ; 
 and so they might have gone on, till the darkness prevented them, if 
 Kate had not looked slily back, and encouragingly beckoned Nathaniel 
 to advance. There was something in Kate's manner that was not to be 
 resisted, and so Nathaniel Pipkin complied with the invitation ; and 
 after a great deal of blushing on his part, and immoderate laughter on 
 that of the wicked little cousin, Nathaniel Pipkin went down on his 
 knees on the dewy grass, and declared his resolution to remain there 
 for ever, unless he was permitted to rise the accepted lover of Maria 
 Lobbs. Upon this, the merry laughter of Maria Lobbs rang through 
 the calm evening air without seeming to disturb it, though ; it had 
 such a pleasant sound and the wicked little cousin laughed more immo- 
 derately than before, and Nathaniel Pipkin blushed deeper than ever. 
 At length, Maria Lobbs being more strenuously urged by the love-worn 
 little man, turned away her head, and whispered her cousin to say, or 
 at all events Kate did say, that she felt much honoured by Mr. Pipkin's 
 addresses, that her hand and heart were at her father's disposal, but
 
 176 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 that nobody could be insensible to Mr. Pipkin's merits. As all this 
 was said with much gravity, and as Nathaniel Pipkin walked home with 
 Maria Lobbs, and struggled for a kiss at parting, he went to bed a happy 
 man, and dreamed all night long, of softening old Lobbs, opening the 
 strongbox, and marrying Maria. 
 
 " The next day, Nathaniel Pipkin saw old Lobbs go out upon his old 
 greyponey, and after a great many signs at the window from the wicked 
 little cousin, the object and meaning of which he could by no means 
 understand, the bony apprentice with the thin legs came over to say 
 that his master wasn't coming home all night, and that the ladies 
 expected Mr. Pipkin to tea, at six o'clock precisely. How the lessons 
 were got through that day, neither Nathaniel Pipkin nor his pupils knew 
 any more than you do ; but they were got through somehow, and, after 
 the boys had gone, Nathaniel Pipkin took till full six o'clock to dress 
 himself to his satisfaction ; not that it took long to select the garments 
 he should wear, inasmuch as he had no choice about the matter, but the 
 putting them on to the best advantage, and touching them up previously, 
 was a task of no inconsiderable difficulty or importance. 
 
 " There \vas a very snug little party, consisting of Maria Lobbs and 
 her cousin Kate, and three or four romping, good-humoured, rosy- 
 cheeked girls. Nathaniel Pipkin had ocular demonstration of the fact, 
 that even the rumours of old Lobbs's treasures were not exaggerated. 
 There were the real solid silver tea-pot, cream-ewer, and sugar-basin, on 
 the table, and real silver spoons to stir the tea with, and real china cups 
 to drink it out of, and plates of the same, to hold the cakes and toast in. 
 The only eye-sore in the whole place, was another cousin of Maria 
 Lobbs's,, and brother of Kate, whom Maria Lobbs called ' Henry,' and 
 who seemed to keep Maria Lobbs all to himself, up in one corner of the 
 table. It's a delightful thing to see affection in families, but it may be 
 carried rather too far, and Nathaniel Pipkin could not help thinking 
 that Maria Lobbs must be very particularly fond of her relations, if she 
 paid as much attention to all of them as to this individual cousin. 
 After tea, too, when the wicked little cousin proposed a game at blind 
 man's buff, it somehow or other happened that Nathaniel Pipkin was 
 nearly always blind, and whenever he laid his hand upon the male 
 cousin, he was sure to find that Maria Lobbs was not far off. And 
 though the wicked little cousin and the other girls pinched him, and 
 pulled his hair, and pushed chairs in his way, and all sorts of things, 
 Maria Lobbs never seemed to come near him at all; and once once 
 Nathaniel Pipkin could have sworn he heard the sound of a kiss, fol- 
 lowed by a faint remonstrance from Maria Lobbs, and a half-suppressed 
 laugh from her female friends. All this was odd very odd and there 
 is no saying what Nathaniel Pipkin might or might not have done, in 
 consequence, if his thoughts had not been suddenly directed into a 
 new channel. 
 
 " The circumstance which directed his thoughts into a new channel 
 was a loud knocking at the street-door, and the person who made this 
 loud knocking at the street-door, was no other than old Lobbs himself, 
 who had unexpectedly returned, and was hammering away, like a coffin- 
 maker : for he wanted his supper. The alarming intelligence was no
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 177 
 
 sooner communicated by the bony apprentice with the thin legs, than 
 the girls tripped up stairs to Maria Lobbs's bed-room, and the male 
 cousin and Nathaniel Pipkin were thrust into a couple of closets in the 
 sitting-room, for want of any better places of concealment ; and when 
 Maria Lobbs and the wicked little cousin had stowed them away, and 
 put the room to rights, they opened the street door to old Lobbs, who 
 had never left off knocking since he first began. 
 
 " Now it did unfortunately happen that old Lobbs being very hungry 
 was monstrous cross. Nathaniel Pipkin could hear him growling away 
 like an old mastiff with a sore throat ; and whenever the unfortunate 
 apprentice with the thin legs came into the room, so surely did old 
 Lobbs commence swearing at him in a most Saracenic and ferocious 
 manner, though apparently with no other end or object than that of 
 easing his bosom by the discharge of a few superfluous oaths. At length 
 some supper, which had been warming up, was placed on the table, and 
 then old Lobbs fell to, in regular style ; and, having made clear work of 
 it in no time, kissed his daughter, and demanded his pipe. 
 
 " Nature had placed Nathaniel Pipkin's knees in very close juxta- 
 position, but when he heard old Lobbs demand his pipe, they knocked 
 together, as if they were going to reduce each other to powder ; for, 
 depending from a couple of hooks, in the very closet in which he stood, 
 was a large brown-stemmed, silver-bowled pipe, which pipe he himself 
 had seen in the mouth of old Lobbs, regularly every afternoon and 
 evening, for the last five years. The two girls went down stairs for the 
 pipe, and up stairs for the pipe, and everywhere but where they knew 
 the pipe was, and old Lobbs stormed away meanwhile, in the most won- 
 derful manner. At last he thought of the closet, and walked up to it. 
 It was of no use a little man like Nathaniel Pipkin pulling the door in- 
 wards, when a great strong fellow like old Lobbs was pulling it out- 
 wards. Old Lobbs just gave it one tug, and open it flew, disclosing 
 Nathaniel Pipkin standing bolt upright inside, and shaking with appre- 
 hension from head to foot. Bless us ! what an appalling look old Lobbs 
 gave him, as he dragged him out by the collar, and held him at arm's 
 length. 
 
 " ' Why, what the devil do you want here ? ' said old Lobbs, in a 
 fearful voice. 
 
 " Nathaniel Pipkin could make no reply, so old Lobbs shook him 
 backwards and forwards, for two or three minutes, by way of arranging 
 his ideas for him. 
 
 " ' What do you want here ? ' roared Lobbs, ' I suppose you have 
 come after my daughter, now.' 
 
 " Old Lobbs merely said this as a sneer : for he did not believe that 
 mortal presumption could have carried Nathaniel Pipkin so far. 
 What was his indignation, when that poor man replied 
 
 " ' Yes, I did, Mr. Lobbs I did come after your daughter. I love 
 her, Mr. Lobbs.' 
 
 " ' Why, you snivelling, wry-faced little villain,' gasped old Lobbs, 
 paralysed at the atrocious confession ; ' what do you mean by that ? 
 Say this to my face ! Damme, I'll throttle you.'
 
 178 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " It is by no means improbable that old Lobbs would have carried 
 this threat into execution, in the excess of his rage, if his arm had not 
 been stayed by a very unexpected apparition, to wit, the male cousin, 
 who, stepping out of his closet, and walking up to old Lobbs, said 
 
 " ' I cannot allow this harmless person, Sir, who has been asked 
 here, in some girlish frolic, to take upon himself, in a very noble man- 
 ner, the fault (if fault it is) which I am guilty of, and am ready to 
 avow. / love your daughter, Sir ; and / came here for the purpose of 
 meeting her.' 
 
 " Old Lobbs opened his eyes very wide at this, but not wider than 
 Nathaniel Pipkin. 
 
 " ' You did ? ' said Lobbs : at last finding breath to speak. 
 
 " ' I did.' 
 . " 'And I forbade you this house, long ago.' 
 
 " ' You did, or I should not have been here, clandestinely, to-night." 
 
 " I am sorry to record it, of old Lobbs, but I think he would have 
 struck the cousin, if his pretty daughter, with her bright eyes swimming 
 in tears, had not clung to his arm. 
 
 c ' ' Don't stop him, Maria,' said the young man : 'if he has the will 
 to strike me, let him. I would not hurt a hair of his grey head, for 
 the riches of the world.' 
 
 " The old man cast down his eyes at this reproof, and theymet 
 those of his daughter. I have hinted once or twice before, that they 
 were very bright eyes, and, though they were tearful now, their influence 
 was by no means lessened. Old Lobbs turned his head away, as if to 
 avoid being persuaded by them, when, as fortune would have it, he 
 encountered the face of the wicked little cousin, who, half afraid for 
 her brother, and half laughing at Nathaniel Pipkin, presented as be- 
 witching an expression of countenance, with a touch of slyness in it 
 too, as any man, old or young, need look upon. She drew her arm 
 coaxingly through the old man's, and whispered something in his ear ; 
 and do what he would, old Lobbs couldn't help breaking out into a 
 smile, while a tear stole down his cheek, at the same time. 
 
 " Five minutes after this, the girls were brought down from the bed- 
 room with a great deal of giggling and modesty ; and while the young 
 people were making themselves perfectly happy, old Lobbs got down 
 the pipe, and smoked it : and it was a remarkable circumstance about 
 that particular pipe of tobacco, that it was the most soothing and 
 lightful one he ever smoked. 
 
 " Nathaniel Pipkin thought it best to keep his own counsel, and by 
 so doing gradually rose into high favour with old Lobbs, who taught 
 him to smoke in time ; and they used to sit out in the garden on the 
 fine evenings, for many years afterwards, smoking and drinking in great 
 state. He soon recovered the effects of his attachment, for we find his 
 name in the parish register, as a witness to the marriage of Maria Lobbs 
 to her cousin ; and it also appears, by reference to other documents, 
 that on the night of the wedding, he was incarcerated in the village 
 cage, for having, in a state of extreme intoxication, committed sundry 
 excesses in the streets, in all of which he was aided and abetted by the 
 bony apprentice with the thin legs."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. J79 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 BRIEFLY ILLUSTRATIVE OF TWO POINTS; FIRST, THE POWER OF 
 HYSTERICS, AND, SECONDLY, THE FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 FOR two days after the dejeune at Mrs. Hunter's, the Pickwickians 
 remained at Eatanswill, anxiously awaiting the arrival of some intelli- 
 gence from their revered leader. Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass, were 
 once again left to their own means of amusement ; for Mr. Winkle, in 
 compliance with a most pressing invitation, continued to reside at Mr. 
 Pott's house, and to devote his time to the companionship of his amiable 
 lady. Nor was the occasional society of Mr. Pott himself, wanting to 
 complete their felicity. Deeply immersed in the intensity of his specu- 
 lations for the public weal, and the destruction of the Independent, it 
 was not the habit of that great man to descend from his mental pinnacle 
 to the humble level of ordinary minds. On this occasion, however, 
 and as if expressly in compliment to any follower of Mr. Pickwick's, 
 he unbent, relaxed, stepped down from his pedestal, and walked upon 
 the ground : benignly adapting his remarks to the comprehension of 
 the herd, and seeming in outward form, if not in spirit, to be one of 
 them. 
 
 Such having been the demeanour of this celebrated public character 
 towards Mr. Winkle, it will be readily. imagined that considerable sur- 
 prise was depicted on the countenance of the latter gentleman, when, 
 as he was sitting alone in the breakfast-room, the door was hastily 
 thrown open, and as hastily closed, on the entrance of Mr. Pott, who, 
 stalking majestically towards him, and thrusting aside his proffered 
 hand, ground his teeth, as if to put a sharper edge on what he was 
 about to utter, and exclaimed, in a saw-like voice,- 
 
 " Serpent ! " 
 
 " Sir I" exclaimed Mr. Winkle, starting from his chair. 
 
 " Serpent, Sir," repeated Mr. Pott, raising his voice, and then sud- 
 denly depressing it ; "I said, Serpent, Sir make the most of it." 
 
 Now when you have parted with a man, at two o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, on terms of the utmost good fellowship, and he meets you again, at 
 half-past nine, and greets you as a serpent, it is not unreasonable to 
 conclude that something of an unpleasant nature has occurred mean- 
 while. So Mr. Winkle thought. He returned Mr. Pott's gaze of stone, 
 and in compliance with that gentleman's request, proceeded to make 
 the most he could of the " serpent." The most, however, was just 
 nothing at all ; so, after a profound silence of some minutes' duration, 
 he said, 
 
 " Serpent, Sir ! Serpent, Mr. Pott ! What can you mean, Sir ? 
 this is pleasantry." 
 
 " Pleasantry, Sir ! " exclaimed Pott, with a motion of the hand, indi- 
 cative of a strong desire to hurl the Britannia metal tea-pot at the head 
 Q
 
 180 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 of his visiter. "Pleasantry, Sir! but no, I will be calm; I will 
 
 be calm, Sir ;" and in proof of his calmness, Mr. Pott flung himself into 
 a chair, and foamed at the mouth. 
 
 " My dear Sir," interposed Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Dear Sir !" replied Pott. " How dare you address me, as dear Sir, 
 Sir ? How dare you look me in the face and do it ? " 
 
 " Well, Sir, if you come to that," responded Mr. Winkle, " how dare 
 you look me in the face, and call me a serpent, Sir ? " 
 
 " Because you are one," replied Mr. Pott. 
 
 " Prove it, Sir," said Mr. Winkle, warmly. " Prove it." 
 
 A malignant scowl passed over the profound face of the editor, as he 
 drew from his pocket, the Independent of that morning 1 ; and laying his 
 finger on a particular paragraph, threw the journal across the table to 
 Mr. Winkle. 
 
 That gentleman took it up, and read as follows : 
 
 " Our obscure and filthy contemporary, in some disgusting observa- 
 tions on the recent election for this borough, has presumed to violate 
 the hallowed sanctity of private life, and to refer, in a manner not to be 
 misunderstood, to the personal affairs of our late candidate aye, and 
 notwithstanding his base defeat, we will add, our future member, Mr. 
 Fizkin. What does our dastardly contemporary mean ? What would 
 the ruffian say, if we, setting at naught, like him, the decencies of social 
 intercourse, were to raise the curtain which happily conceals his private 
 life from general ridicule, not to say from general execration ? What, 
 if we were even to point out, and comment on, facts and circumstances 
 which are publicly notorious, and beheld by every one, but our mole- 
 eyed contemporary what if we were to print the following effusion, 
 which we received while we were writing the commencement of this 
 article, from a talented fellow-townsman and correspondent : 
 
 " ' LINES TO A BRASS POT. 
 
 " ' Ob Pott! if you'd known 
 
 How false she'd have grown. 
 When you heart! the marriage bells tinkle ; 
 
 You'd have done then, I vow, 
 
 What you cannot help now, 
 And handed her over to W * * * * *.'" 
 
 " What," said Mr. Pott, solemnly " what rhymes to tinkle,' 
 villain?" 
 
 "What rhymes to tinkle?" said Mrs. Pott, whose entrance at the 
 moment forestalled the reply. " What rhymes to tinkle ? Why, Winkle, 
 I should conceive : " and saying this, Mrs. Pott smiled sweetly on the 
 disturbed Pickwickian, and extended her hand towards him. The 
 agitated young man would have accepted it, in his confusion, had not 
 Pott indignantly interposed. 
 
 " Back, Ma'am back," said the editor. " Take his hand before my 
 very face ! " 
 
 " Mr. P. ! " said his astonished lady. 
 
 "Wretched woman, look here," exclaimed the husband. "Look
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 181 
 
 here, Ma'am ' Lines to a brass Pot,' Ma'am. Brass pot ; ' that's me, 
 Ma'am. ' False she'd have grown ;' that's you, Ma'am you." With 
 this ebullition of rage, which was not unaccompanied with something 
 like a tremble, at the expression of his wife's face, Mr. Pott dashed the 
 current number of the Eatanswill Independent at her feet. 
 
 " Upon my word, Sir," said the astonished Mrs. Pott, stooping to 
 pick up the paper. " Upon my word, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Pott winced beneath the contemptuous gaze of his wife. He 
 had made a desperate struggle to screw up his courage, but it was fast 
 coming unscrewed again. 
 
 There appears nothing very tremendous in this little sentence, 
 " e Upon my word, Sir," when it comes to be read ; but the tone of voice 
 in which it was delivered, and the look that accompanied it, both seem- 
 ing to bear reference to some revenge to be thereafter wreaked upon 
 the head of Pott, produced their full effect upon him. The most un- 
 skilful observer could have detected in his troubled countenance, a readi- 
 ness to resign his Wellington boots to any efficient substitute who 
 would have consented to stand in them at that moment. 
 
 Mrs. Pott read the paragraph, uttered a loud shriek, and threw herself 
 at full length on the hearth-rug, screaming, and tapping it with the 
 heels of her shoes, in a manner which could leave no doubt of the 
 propriety of her feelings on the occasion. 
 
 " My dear," said the terrified Pott, " I did'nt say I believed it ; 
 
 I -" but the unfortunate man's voice was drowned in the screaming 
 
 of his partner. 
 
 " Mrs. Pott, let me entreat you, my dear Ma'am, to compose your- 
 self," said Mr. Winkle ; but the shrieks and tappings were louder, and 
 more frequent, than ever. 
 
 " My dear," said Mr. Pott, " I aru very sorry. If you won't consider 
 your own health, consider me, my dear. We shall have a crowd round 
 the house." But the more strenuously Mr. Pott entreated, the more 
 vehemently the screams poured forth. 
 
 Very fortunately, however, attached to Mrs. Pott's person was a body- 
 guard of one : a young lady whose ostensible employment was 
 
 to preside over her toilet, but who rendered herself useful in a variety 
 of ways, and in none more so than in the particular department of con- 
 stantly aiding and abetting her mistress in every wish and inclination 
 opposed to the desires of the unhappy Pott. The screams reached this 
 young lady's ears in due course, and brought her to the room with a 
 speed which threatened to derange materially, the very exquisite arrange- 
 ment of her cap and ringlets. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, dear mistress !" exclaimed the body-guard, kneeling 
 frantically by the side of the prostrate Mrs. Pott. " Oh, my dear mis- 
 tress, what is the matter?" 
 
 " Your master your brutal master," murmured the patient. 
 
 Pott was evidently giving way. 
 
 " It's a shame," said the body-guard, reproachfully. " I know he'll 
 be the death on you, Ma'am. Poor dear thing." 
 
 He gave way more. The opposite party followed up the attack. 
 Q 2
 
 182 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Oh don't leave me don't leave, Goodwin," murmured Mrs. Pott, 
 clutching at the wrists of the said Goodwin with an hysteric jerk. 
 " You're the only person that's kind to me, Goodwin." 
 
 At this affecting appeal, Goodwin got up a little domestic tragedy of 
 her own, and shed tears copiously. 
 
 " Never, Ma'am never," said Goodwin. " Oh, Sir, you should be 
 careful you should indeed ; you don't know what harm you may do 
 Missis ; you'll be sorry for it one day, I know I've always said so." 
 
 The unlucky Pott looked timidly on, but said nothing. 
 
 " Goodwin," said Mrs. Pott, in a soft voice. 
 
 " Ma'am," said Goodwin. 
 . " If you only knew how I have loved that man " 
 
 " Don't distress yourself by recollecting it, Ma'am," said the body- 
 guard. 
 
 Pott looked very frightened. It was time for a clencher. 
 
 " And now," sobbed Mrs. Pott " now, after all, to be treated in this 
 way ; to be reproached and insulted in the presence of a third party, 
 and that party almost a stranger. But I will not submit to it, Good- 
 win," continued Mrs. Pott, raising herself, in the arms of her attendant. 
 " My brother, the Lieutenant, shall interfere. I'll be separated, 
 Goodwin." 
 
 " It would certainly serve him right, Ma'am," said Goodwin. 
 
 Whatever thoughts the threat of a separation might have awakened 
 in Mr. Pott's mind, he forbore to give utterance to them, and contented 
 himself by saying, with great humility, 
 
 " My dear, will you hear me?" 
 
 A fresh train of sobs was the only reply, as Mrs. Pott grew more 
 hysterical, requested to be informed why she was ever born, and 
 required sundry other pieces of information of a similar description. 
 
 " My dear," remonstrated Mr. Pott, " do not give way to these sen- 
 sitive feelings. I never believed that the paragraph had any founda- 
 tion, my dear impossible. I was only angry, my dear I may say 
 outrageous with the Independent people for daring to insert it ; 
 that's all:" and Mr. Pott cast an imploring look at the innocent 
 cause of the mischief, as if to entreat him to say nothing about the 
 serpent. 
 
 " And what steps, Sir, do you mean to take to obtain redress ? " 
 inquired Mr. Winkle, gaining courage as he saw Pott losing it. 
 
 " Oh, Goodwin," observed Mrs. Pott, " does he mean to horsewhip 
 the editor of the Independent does he, Goodwin ? " 
 
 " Hush, hush, Ma'am ; pray keep yourself quiet," replied the body- 
 guard. " I dare say he will, if you wish it, Ma'am." 
 
 " Certainly," said Pott, as his wife evinced decided symptoms of going 
 off again " of course I shall." 
 
 "When, Goodwin when?" said Mrs. Pott, still undecided about 
 the going off. 
 
 " Immediately, of course," said Mr. Pott ; " before the day is out. 
 
 " Oh, Goodwin," resumed Mrs. Pott, " it's the only way of meeting 
 the slander, and setting me right with the world." ,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 183 
 
 " Certainly, Ma'am," replied Goodwin. " No man as is a man, 
 Ma'am, could refuse to do it." 
 
 So as the hysterics were still hovering about, Mr. Pott said once 
 more, that he would do it ; but Mrs. Pott was so overcome at the bare 
 idea of having- ever been suspected, that she was half-a-dozen times on 
 the very verge of a relapse, and most unquestionably would have gone 
 off, had it not been for the indefatigable efforts of the assiduous Good- 
 win, and repeated entreaties for pardon from the conquered Pott ; and 
 finally, when that unhappy individual had been frightened and snubbed 
 down to his proper level, Mrs. Pott recovered, and they went to 
 breakfast. 
 
 " You will not allow this base newspaper slander to shorten your 
 stay here, Mr. Winkle?" said Mrs. Pott, smiling through the traces of 
 her tears. 
 
 " I hope not," said Mr. Pott, actuated, as he spoke, by an internal 
 wish that his visiter would choke himself with the morsel of dry toast 
 which he was raising to his lips at the moment : and so terminate his 
 stay effectually. 
 
 " I hope not." 
 
 " You are very good," said Mr. Winkle ; " but a letter has been 
 received from Mr. Pickwick so I learn by a note from Mr. Tupman, 
 which was brought up to my bed-room door, this morning in which he 
 requests us to join him at Bury to-day ; and we are to leave by the 
 coach at noon." 
 
 " But you will come back ? " said Mrs. Pott. 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " You are quite sure ? " said Mrs. Pott, stealing a tender look at her 
 visiter. 
 
 " Quite," responded Mr. Winkle. 
 
 ' The breakfast passed off in silence, for each member of the party was 
 brooding over his, or her, own personal grievances. Mrs. Pott was 
 regretting the loss of a beau ; Mr. Pott his rash pledge to horse- 
 whip the Independent; and Mr. Winkle his having placed himself in 
 so awkward a situation. Noon approached, and after many adieux and 
 promises to return, he tore himself away. 
 
 " If he ever comes back, I'll poison him," thought Mr. Pott, as he 
 turned into the little back office where he prepared his thunderbolts. 
 
 " If I ever do come back, and mix myself up with these people 
 again," thought Mr. Winkle, as he wended his way to the Peacock, " I 
 shall deserve to be horsewhipped myself that's all." 
 
 His friends were ready, the coach was nearly so, and in half an 
 hour they were proceeding on their journey, along the road over which 
 Mr. Pickwick and Sam had so recently travelled, and of which, as we 
 have already said something, we do not feel called upon to extract Mr. 
 Snodgrass's poetical and beautiful description. 
 
 Mr. Weller was standing at the door of the Angel, ready to receive 
 them, and by that gentleman they were ushered to the apartment of 
 Mr. Pickwick, where, to the no small surprise of Mr. Winkle and Mr.
 
 184 POSTHCMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Snodgrass, and the no small embarrassment of Mr. Tupman, they found 
 old Wardle and Trundle. 
 
 " How are you?" said the old man, grasping Mr. Tupman's hand. 
 " Don't hang back, or look sentimental about it; it can't be helped, 
 old fellow. For her sake, I wish you'd had her ; for your own, I'm 
 very glad you have not. A young fellow like you, will do better one 
 of these days eh?" With this consolation, old Wardle. slapped Mr. 
 Tupman on the back, and laughed heartily. 
 
 " Well, and how are you, my fine fellows ? " said the old gentleman, 
 shaking hands with Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass at the same time. 
 " I have just been telling Pickwick that we must have you all down 
 at Christmas. We're going to have a wedding a real wedding this 
 time." 
 
 "A wedding!" exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, turning very pale. 
 
 " Yes, a wedding. But don't be frightened," said the good-humoured 
 old man ; " it's only Trundle there, and Bella." 
 
 " Oh, is that all ?" said Mr. Snodgrass, relieved from a painful doubt 
 which had fallen heavily on his breast. " Give you joy, Sir. How 
 is Joe ? " 
 
 " Oh, he ; very well," replied the old gentleman. " Sleepy as ever." 
 
 " And your mother, and the clergyman, and all of 'em ? " 
 
 " Quite well." 
 
 " Where," said Mr. Tupman, with an effort " where is she, Sir ? " 
 and he turned away his head, and covered his eyes with his hand. 
 
 " She !" said the old gentleman, with a knowing shake of the head. 
 " Do you mean my single relative eh ? " 
 
 Mr. Tupman, by a nod, intimated that his question applied to the 
 disappointed Rachael. 
 
 " Oh, she's gone away," said the old gentleman. " She's living at a 
 relation's, far enough off. She couldn't bear to see the girls, so I let 
 her go. But come, here's the dinner. You must be hungry after 
 your ride. I am, without any ride at all ; so let us fall to." 
 
 Ample justice was done to the meal ; and when they were seated 
 round the table, after it had been disposed of, Mr. Pickwick, to the 
 intense horror and indignation of his followers, related the adventure 
 he had undergone, and the success which had attended the base artifices 
 of the diabolical Jingle. 
 
 " And the attack of rheumatism which I caught in that garden," said 
 Mr. Pickwick, in conclusion, " renders me lame at this moment." 
 
 " I, too, have had something of an adventure," said Mr. Winkle, 
 with a smile ; and at the request of Mr. Pickwick, he detailed the 
 malicious libel of the Eatanswill Independent, and the consequent 
 excitement of their friend, the editor. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's brow darkened, during the recital. His friends ob- 
 served it, and, when Mr. Winkle had concluded, maintained a profound 
 silence. Mr. Pickwick struck the table emphatically with his clenched 
 fist, and spoke as follows : 
 
 " Is it not a wonderful circumstance," said Mr. Pickwick, that we
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 185 
 
 seem destined to enter no man's house, without involving him in some 
 degree of trouble ? Does it not, I ask, bespeak the indiscretion, or, 
 worse than that, the blackness of heart that I should say so ! of my 
 followers, that, beneath whatever roof the locate, they disturb the peace 
 of mind and happiness of some confiding female ? Is it not, I say .." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick would in all probability have gone on for some time, 
 had not the entrance of Sam, with a letter, caused him to break off in 
 his eloquent discourse. He passed his handkerchief across his forehead, 
 took off his spectacles, wiped them, and put them on again; and his 
 voice had recovered its wonted softness of tone, when he said, 
 
 What have you there, Sam ? " 
 
 " Called at the Post-office just now, and found this here letter, as 
 has laid there for two days," replied Mr. Weller. " It's sealed, vith a 
 vafer, and directed in round hand." 
 
 " I don't know this hand," said Mr. Pickwick, opening the letter. 
 " Mercy on us ! what's this ? It must be a jest ; it it can't be true." 
 
 " What's the matter?" was the general inquiry. 
 
 " Nobody dead, is there ? " said Wardle, alarmed at the horror in Mr. 
 Pickwick's countenance. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick made no reply, but, pushing the letter across the table, 
 and desiring Mr. Tupman to read it aloud, fell back in his chair with a 
 look of vacant astonishment quite alarming to behold. 
 
 Mr. Tupman, with a trembling voice, read the letter, of which the 
 following is a copy : 
 
 S'reeman'a Court, Cornftiff, Jliupat 28tft, 4830. 
 
 against TPiclcwiclc. 
 Sit, 
 
 DCoumta (>een instructed 6u- Jlilw. JULartna TSatDeff, 
 to commence aw action a^aimt ijou, for a foeacH of promise of 
 marriage, for wfucn tne pfaiiitij^ *fau6 fiet damaged at jlfteen 
 fiunDiec) pounds, we fieq to inform uou tfiat a writ fias Geen issued 
 aqautit uou- tu tfiid duit, in tfie Court of Common Trfeaa ; and 
 to know, 6y return of poAt, tfie uame of yout attorney- tu 
 , wfto wif^ accept detvice thereof. 
 'We ate, Sit, 
 
 IOur o6eDient 
 
 Jit. .Samuef Ticfcwicfc. 
 
 There was something so impressive in the mute astonishment with 
 which each man regarded his neighbour, and every man regarded Mr. 
 Pickwick, that. all seemed afraid to speak. The silence was at length 
 broken by Mr. Tupman.
 
 186 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Dodson and Fogg," he repeated mechanically. 
 
 " Bardell and Pickwick," said Mr. Snodgrass, musing. 
 
 <k Peace of mind and happiness of confiding females," murmured Mr. 
 Winkle, with an air of abstraction. 
 
 " It's a conspiracy," said Mr. Pickwick, at length recovering the 
 power of speech ; " a base conspiracy between these two grasping 
 attorneys, Dodson and Fogg. Mrs. Bardeil would never do it ; she 
 hasn't the heart to do it ; she hasn't the case to do it. Ridiculous 
 ridiculous." 
 
 " Of her heart," said Wardle, with a smile, " you should certainly be 
 the best judge. I don't wish to discourage you, but I should certainly 
 say that, of her case, Dodson and Fogg are far better judges than any 
 of us, can be." 
 
 " It's a vile attempt to extort money," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I hope it is," said Wardle, with a short, dry cough. 
 
 " Who ever heard me address her in any way but that in which a 
 lodger would address his landlady ? " continued Mr. Pickwick, with great 
 vehemence. " Who ever saw me with her ? Not even my friends 
 here " 
 
 " Except on one occasion," said Mr. Tupraan. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick changed colour. 
 
 " Ah," said Wardle. " Well, that's important. There was nothing 
 suspicious then, I suppose?" 
 
 Mr. Tupman glanced timidly at his leader. " Why," he said, " there 
 was nothing suspicious ; but I don't know how it happened, mind 
 she certainly was reclining in his arms." 
 
 " Gracious powers ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, as the recollection of 
 the scene in question, struck forcibly upon him ; " what a dreadful 
 instance of the force of circumstances ! So she was so she was." 
 
 " And our friend was soothing her anguish," said Mr. Winkle, rather 
 maliciously. 
 
 " So I was," said Mr. Pickwick. " I won't deny it. So I was." 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Wardle ; " for a case in which there's nothing sus- 
 picious, this looks rather queer eh, Pickwick eh? Ah, sly dog 
 sly dog ! " and he laughed till the glasses on the side-board, rang 
 again. 
 
 " What a dreadful conjunction of appearances ! " exclaimed Mr. Pick- 
 wick, resting his chin upon his hands. " Winkle Tupman I beg your 
 pardon for the observations I made just now. We are all the victims 
 of circumstances, and I the greatest." With this apology, Mr. Pickwick 
 buried his bead in his hands, and ruminated ; while Wardle measured 
 out a regular circle of nods and winks, addressed to the other members 
 of the company. 
 
 " I'll have it explained, though," said Mr. Pickwick, raising his head, 
 and hammering the table. " I'll see this Dodson and Fogg. I'll go to 
 London to-morrow." 
 
 " Not to-morrow," said Wardle ; " you're too lame." 
 
 " Well then, next day." 
 
 " Next day is the first of September, and you're pledged to ride out
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 187 
 
 with us, as far as Sir Geoffrey Manning's grounds, at all events, and to 
 meet us at lunch, if you don't take the field." 
 
 " Well then, the day after," said Mr. Pickwick ; " Thursday Sam." 
 
 " Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Take two places outside to London, on Thursday morning-, for 
 yourself and me." 
 
 " Wery well, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Weller left the room, and departed slowly on his errand, with his 
 hands in his pocket, and his eyes fixed on the ground. 
 
 " Rum feller, the hemperor," said Mr. Weller, as he walked slowly 
 up the street. Think o' his makin' up to that ere Mrs. Bardell vith 
 a little boy, too ! Always the vay vith these here old 'uns hows'ever, 
 as is such steady goers to look at. I didn't think he'd ha* done it, 
 though I didn't think he'd ha' done it." And moralising in this 
 strain, Mr. Samuel Weller bent his steps towards the booking-office. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A PLEASANT DAY, WITH AN UNPLEASANT TERMINATION. 
 
 THE birds, who, happily for their own peace of mind, and personal 
 comfort, were in blissful ignorance of the preparations which had been 
 making to astonish them, on the first of September, hailed it no doubt, 
 as one of the pleasantest mornings they had seen that season. Many 
 a young partridge who strutted complacently among the stubble, with 
 all the finicking coxcombry of youth, and many an older one who 
 watched his levity out of his little round eye, with the contemptuous 
 air of a bird of wisdom and experience, alike unconscious of their 
 approaching doom, basked in the fresh morning air with lively and 
 blithesome feelings, and a few hours afterwards were laid low upon the 
 earth. But we grow affecting : let us proceed. 
 
 In plain common-place matter-of-fact, then, it was a fine morning 
 so fine that you would scarcely have believed that the few months of an 
 English summer had yet flown by. Hedges, fields, and trees, hill and 
 moorland, presented" to the eye their ever- varying shades of deep rich 
 green ; scarce a leaf had fallen,* scarce a sprinkle of yellow mingled 
 with the hues of summer, warned you that autumn had begun. The 
 sky was cloudless ; the sun shone out bright and warm ; the songs of 
 birds, and hum of myriads of summer insects, filled the air ; and the 
 cottage gardens, crowded with flowers of every rich and beautiful tint, 
 sparkled in the heavy dew, like beds of glittering jewels. Everything 
 bore the stamp of summer, and none of its beautiful colours had yet 
 faded from the dye. 
 
 Such was the morning, when an open carriage, in which were three 
 Pickwickians, (Mr. Snodgrass having preferred to remain at home,) Mr. 
 Wardle, and Mr. Trundle, with Sam Weller on the box beside the 
 driver, pulled up by a gate at the road-side, before which stood a tall, 
 raw-boned gamekeeper, and a half-booted, leather-leggined boy : each
 
 188 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 bearing a bag of capacious dimensions, and accompanied by a brace of 
 pointers. 
 
 " I say," whispered Mr. Winkle to Wardle, as the man let down the 
 steps, " they don't suppose we're going to kill game enough to fill those 
 bags, do they?" 
 
 " Fill them !" exclaimed old Wardle. " Bless you, yes ! You shall fill 
 one, and 1 the other ; and when we've done with them, the pockets of 
 our shooting-jackets will hold as much more." 
 
 Mr. Winkle dismounted without saying anything in reply to this 
 observation ; but he thought within himself, that if the party remained 
 in the open air, till he had filled one of the bags, they stood a considerable 
 chance of catching tolerable colds in the head. 
 
 " Hi, Juno, lass hi, old girl ; down, Daph, down," said Wardle, 
 caressing the dogs. " Sir Geoffrey still in Scotland, of course, Martin?" 
 
 The tall gamekeeper replied in the affirmative, and looked with some 
 surprise from Mr. Winkle, who was holding his gun as if he wished his 
 coat pocket to save him the trouble of pulling the trigger, to Mr. Tup- 
 man, who was holding his, as if he were afraid of it as there is no 
 earthly reason to doubt that he really was. 
 
 " My friends are not much in the way of this sort of thing yet, 
 Martin," said Wardle, noticing the look. " Live and learn, you know. 
 They'll be good shots one of these days. I beg my friend Winkle's 
 pardon, though ; he has had some practice." 
 
 Mr. Winkle smiled feebly over his blue neckerchief in acknowledg- 
 ment of the compliment, and got himself so mysteriously entangled 
 with his gun, in his modest confusion, that if the piece had been loaded, 
 lie must inevitably have shot himself dead upon the spot. 
 
 " You mustn't handle your piece in that ere way, when you come to 
 have the charge in it, Sir," said the tall gamekeeper gruffly, " or I'm 
 damned if you won't make cold meat of some on us." 
 
 Mr. Winkle, thus admonished, abruptly altered its position, and in so 
 doing, contrived to bring the barrel into pretty smart contact with Mr. 
 Weller's head. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Sara, picking up his hat, which had been knocked off, 
 and rubbing his temple. " Hallo, Sir ! if you comes it this vay, you'll 
 fill one o' them bags, and something to spare, at one fire." 
 
 Here the leather-leggined boy laughed very heartily, and then tried 
 to look as if it was somebody else, whereat Mr. Winkle frowned 
 majestically. 
 
 Where did you tell the boy to meet us with the snack, Martin ? " 
 inquired W'ardle. 
 
 " Side of One-tree Hill, at twelve o'clock, Sir." 
 
 " That's not Sir Geoffrey's land, is it?" 
 
 " No, Sir ; but it's close by it. It's Captain Boldwig's land ; but 
 there'll be nobody to interrupt us, and there's a fine bit of turf there." 
 
 " Very well," said old Wardle. " Now the sooner we're off the better. 
 Will you join us at twelve, then, Pickwick?" 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was particularly desirous to view the sport, the more 
 especially as he was rather anxious in respect of Mr. Winkle's life and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 189 
 
 limbs. On so inviting a morning-; too, it was very tantalising- to tnrn 
 back, and leave his friends to enjoy themselves. It was, therefore, with 
 a very rueful air that he replied, 
 
 " Why, I suppose I must." 
 
 " An't the gentleman a shot, Sir?" inquired the long gamekeeper. 
 
 " No," replied Wardle ; " and he's lame besides." 
 
 "I should very much like to go," said Mr. Pickwick "very 
 much." 
 
 There was a short pause of commiseration. 
 
 " There's a barrow t'other side the hedge," said the boy. " If the 
 gentleman's servant would wheel along the paths, he could keep nigh 
 us, and we could lift it over the stiles and that." 
 
 " The wery thing," said Mr. Weller, who was a party interested, 
 inasmuch as he ardently longed to see the sport. " The wery thing. 
 Well said, Small- check ; I'll have it out, in a minute." 
 
 But here a difficulty arose. The long gamekeeper resolutely pro- 
 tested against the introduction into a shooting-party, of a gentleman in 
 a barrow, as a gross violation of all established rules and precedents. 
 
 It was a great objection, but not an insurmountable one. The game- 
 keeper having been coaxed and feed, and having, moreover, eased his 
 mind by " punching" the head of the inventive youth who had first 
 suggested the use of the machine, Mr. Pickwick was placed in it, and 
 off the party set ; Wardle and the long gamekeeper leading the way, 
 and Mr. Pickwick in the barrow, propelled by Sam, bringing up the 
 rear. 
 
 " Stop, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, when they had got half across the 
 first field. 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " said Wardle. 
 
 " I won't suffer this barrow to be moved another step," said Mr. 
 Pickwick, resolutely, " unless Winkle carries that gun of his, in a 
 different manner." 
 
 " How am I to carry it? " said the wretched Winkle. 
 
 " Carry it with the muzzle to the ground," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It's so unsportsman-like," reasoned Winkle. 
 
 " I don't care whether it's unsportsman-like or not," replied Mr. 
 Pickwick ; " I am not going to be shot in a wheelbarrow, for the sake 
 of appearances, to please anybody." 
 
 " 1 know the gentleman '11 put that ere charge into somebody afore 
 he's done," growled the long man. 
 
 " Well, well I don't mind," said poor Mr. Winkle, turning his gun 
 stock uppermost ; " there." 
 
 " Anythin' for a quiet life," said Mr. Weller ; and on they went 
 again. 
 
 " Stop," said Mr. Pickwick, after they had gone a few yards further. 
 
 " What now? " said Wardle. 
 
 " That gun of Tupman's is not safe : I know it isn't," said Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Eh? What! not safe?" said Mr. Tupman, in a tone of great 
 alarm.
 
 190 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 7l3 " 
 
 " Not as you are carrying it," said Mr. Pickwick. " I am very sorry to 
 make any further objection, but I cannot consent to go on, unless you 
 carry it, as Winkle does his." 
 
 " I think you had better, Sir," said the long gamekeeper, " or you're 
 quite as likely to lodge the charge in your own vestcoat as in anybody 
 else's." 
 
 Mr. Tupman, with the most obliging haste, placed his piece in the 
 position required, and the party moved on again ; the two amateurs 
 marching with reversed arms, like a couple of privates at a royal 
 funeral. 
 
 The dogs suddenly came to a dead stop, and the party advancing 
 stealthily a single pace, stopped too. 
 
 " What's the matter with the dogs' legs ? " whispered Mr. Winkle. 
 " How queer they're standing." 
 
 " Hush, can't you ? " replied Wardle, softly. " Don't you see, they're 
 making a point ? " 
 
 " Making a point ! " said Mr. Winkle, staring about him, as if he 
 expected to discover some particular beauty in the landscape, which the 
 sagacious animals were calling special attention to. " Making a point ! 
 What are they pointing at? " 
 
 " Keep your eyes open," said Wardle, not heeding the question in 
 the excitement of the moment. " Now then." 
 
 There was a sharp whirring noise, that made Mr. Winkle start back 
 as if he had been shot himself. Bang, bang, went a couple of guns; 
 the smoke swept quickly away over the field, and curled into the air. 
 
 " Where are they ? " said Mr. Winkle, in a state of the highest 
 excitement, turning round and round in all directions. " Where are 
 they ? Tell me when to fire. Where are they where are they ? " 
 
 " Where are they ! " said Wardle, taking up a brace of birds which 
 the dogs had deposited at his feet. " Where are they ! Why, here 
 they are." 
 
 " No, no ; I mean the others," said the bewildered Winkle. 
 
 " Far enough off, by this time," replied Wardle, coolly reloading 
 his gun. 
 
 " We shall very likely be up with another covey in five minutes/' 
 said the long gamekeeper. " If the gentleman begins to fire now, 
 perhaps he'll just get the shot out of the barrel by the time they 
 rise." 
 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! " roared Mr. Weller. 
 
 Sara," said Mr. Pickwick, compassionating his follower's confusion 
 and embarrassment. 
 Sir." 
 
 Don't laugh." 
 
 Certainly not, Sir." So, by way of indemnification, Mr, Weller 
 contorted his features from behind the wheelbarrow, for the exclusive 
 amusement of the boy with the leggings, who thereupon burst into 
 a boisterous laugh, and was summarily cuffed by the long game- 
 keeper, who wanted a pretext for turning round, to hide his own 
 merriment.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 191 
 
 " Bravo, old fellow ! " said Wardle to Mr. Tupman ; " you fired thai, 
 time, at all events." 
 
 " Oh yes," replied Mr. Tupman, with conscious pride. " I let 
 it off." 
 
 " Well done. You'll hit something next time, if you look sharp. 
 Very easy, ain't it?" 
 
 " Yes, it's very easy," said Mr. Tupman. " How it hurts one's 
 shoulder, though. It nearly knocked me backwards. I had no idea 
 these small fire-arms kicked so." 
 
 " Ah," said the old gentleman, smiling ; " you'll get used to it, in 
 time. Now then all ready all right with the barrow there? " 
 
 " All right, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Come along then." 
 
 " Hold hard, Sir," said Sam, raising the barrow, 
 
 " Aye, aye," replied Mr. Pickwick ; and on they went, as briskly as 
 need be. 
 
 " Keep that barrow back now," cried Wardle, when it had been 
 hoisted over a stile into another field, and Mr. Pickwick had" been 
 deposited in it once more. 
 
 " All right, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, pausing. 
 
 " Now Winkle," said the old gentleman, " follow me softly, and don't 
 be too late this time." 
 
 " Never fear," said Mr. Winkle. " Are they pointing ?" 
 
 " No, no ; not now. Quietly now, quietly." On they crept, and 
 very quietly they would have advanced, if Mr. Winkle, in the perform- 
 ance of some very intricate evolutions with his gun, had not accidentally 
 fired, at the most critical moment, over the boy's head, exactly in the 
 very spot where the tall man's brain would have been, had he been 
 there instead. 
 
 " Why, what on earth did you do that for ? " said old Wardle, as the 
 birds flew unharmed away. 
 
 " I never saw such a gun in my life," replied poor Winkle, looking 
 at the lock, as if that would do any good. " It goes off, of its own 
 accord. It will do it." 
 
 " Will do it ! " echoed Wardle, with something of irritation in his 
 manner. " I wish it would kill something of its own accord." 
 
 " It '11 do that afore long, Sir," observed the tall man, in a low, 
 prophetic voice. 
 
 " What do you mean by that observation, Sir ? " inquired Mr. Winkle, 
 angrily. 
 
 " Never mind, Sir never mind," replied the long gamekeeper ; 
 " I've no family myself, Sir ; and this here boy's mother will get some- 
 thing handsome from Sir Geoffrey, if he's killed on his land. Load 
 again, Sir load again." 
 
 " Take away his gun," cried Mr. Pickwick from the barrow, horror- 
 stricken at the long man's dark insinuations. " Take away his gun, 
 do you hear, somebody?" 
 
 Nobody, however, volunteered to obey the command; arid Mr. 
 

 
 192 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Winkle, after darting a rebellious glance at Mr. Pickwick, reloaded his 
 gun, and proceeded onwards with the rest. 
 
 We" are bound, on the authority of Mr. Pickwick, to state, that 
 Mr. Tupman's mode of proceeding evinced far more of prudence and 
 deliberation, than that adopted by Mr. Winkle. Still, this by no means 
 detracts from the great authority of the latler gentleman, on all matters 
 connected with the field ; because, as Mr. Pickwick beautifully observes, 
 it has somehow or other happened, from time immemorial, that many 
 of the best and ablest philosophers, who have been perfect lights of 
 science in matters of theory, have been wholly unable to reduce them 
 to practice. 
 
 Mr. Tupman's process, like many of our most sublime discoveries, 
 was extremely simple. With the quickness and penetration of a man 
 of genius, he had at once observed that the two great points to be 
 attained were first, to discharge his piece without injury to himself, 
 and, secondly, to do so, without danger to the by-standers ; obviously, 
 the best thing to do, after surmounting the difficulty of firing at all, 
 was to shut his eyes firmly, and fire into the air. 
 
 On one occasion, after performing this feat, Mr. Tupman, on opening 
 his eyes, beheld a plump partridge in the very act of falling wounded to 
 the ground. He was ju,>t on the point of congratulating Wardle on 
 his invariable success, when that gentleman advanced towards him, and 
 grasped him warmly by the hand. . 
 
 " Tupman," said the old gentleman, " you singled out that particular 
 bird?" 
 
 " No," said Mr. Tupman " no." 
 
 " You did," said Wardle. " I saw you do it I observed you pick 
 him out I noticed you as you raised your piece to take aim; and I 
 will say this, that the best shot in existence could not have done it 
 more beautifully. You are an older hand at this, than I thought you, 
 Tupman ; you have been out before." 
 
 It was in vain for Mr. Tupman to protest, with a smile of 'self-denial, 
 that he never had. The very smile was taken as evidence to the con- 
 trary ; and from that time forth, his reputation was established. It is 
 not the only reputation that has been acquired as easily, nor are such 
 fortunate circumstances confined to partridge-shooting. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Winkle flashed, and blazed, and smoked away, 
 without producing any material results worthy of being noted down ; 
 sometimes expending his charge in mid-air, and at others sending it 
 skimming along so near the surface of the ground, as to place the lives 
 of the two dogs on a rather uncertain and precarious tenure. As a 
 display of fancy-shooting, it was extremely varied and curious ; as an 
 exhibition of firing with any precise object, it was, upon the whole, 
 perhaps a failure. It is an established axiom, that " every bullet has 
 its billet." If it apply in an equal degree to shots, those of Mr. 
 Winkle were unfortunate foundlings, deprived of their natural rights, 
 cast loose upon the world, and billeted nowhere. 
 
 " Well," said Wardle, walking up to the side of the barrow, and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 193 
 
 wiping the streams of perspiration from his jolly red face ; '' smoking 
 day, isn't it ? " 
 
 " It is indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick. " The sun is tremendously 
 hot, even to me. I don't know how you must feel it." 
 
 " Why," said the old gentleman, " pretty hot. It's past twelve, 
 though. You see that green hill there ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " That's the place where we are to lunch ; and, by Jove, there's the 
 hoy with the basket, punctual as clock-work." 
 
 " So he is," said Mr. Pickwick, brightening up. " Good boy, that. 
 I'll give him a shilling, presently. Now, then, Sam, wheel away." 
 
 " Hold on, Sir," said Mr. Weller, invigorated with the prospect of 
 refreshments. " Out of the vay, young leathers. If you walley my 
 precious life don't upset me, as the genTman said to the driver, when 
 they was a carryin' him to Tyburn." And quickening his pace to a 
 sharp run, Mr. Weller wheeled his master nimbly to the green hill, shot 
 him dexterously out by the very side of the basket, and proceeded to 
 unpack it with the utmost dispatch. 
 
 " Weal pie," said Mr. Weller, soliloquising, as he arranged the eatables 
 on the grass. " Wery good thing is a weal pie, when you know the 
 lady as made it, and is quite sure it an't kittens ; and arter all though, 
 where's the odds, when they're so like weal that the wery piemen them- 
 selves don't know the difference ? " ; 
 
 " Don't they, Sam ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Not they, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, touching his hat. " I lodged 
 in the same house vith a pieman once, Sir, and a wery nice man he 
 was reg'lar clever chap, too make pies out o' anything, he could. 
 * What a mimber o' cats you keep, Mr. Brooks,' says I, when I'd got 
 intimate with him. ' Ah,' says he, < I do a good many/ says he. ' You 
 must be wery fond o' cats,' says I. ' Other people is,' says he, a winkin' 
 at me ; ' they an't in season till the winter though,' says he. Not in 
 season ! ' says I. ' No,' says he, ' fruits is in, cats is out/ ' Why, 
 what do you mean ? ' says I. ' Mean ? ' says he. ' That I'll never be a 
 party to the combination o' the butchers, to keep up the prices o' meat,' 
 says he. ' Mr. Weller,' says he, squeezing my hand wery hard, and 
 vispering in my ear ' don't mention this here agin, but it's the sea- 
 sonin' as does it. They're all made o' them noble animals,' says he, 
 a pointin' to a wery nice little tabby kitten, < and I seasons 'em for beef- 
 steak, weal, or kidney, 'cordin to the demand ; and more than that,' 
 says he, ' I can make a weal a beef-steak, or a beef-steak a kidney, or 
 any one on 'em a mutton, at a minute's notice, just as the market 
 changes, and appetites wary ! ' " 
 
 " He must have been a very ingenious young man, that, Sam," said 
 Mr. Pickwick, with a slight shudder. 
 
 " Just was, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, continuing his occupation of 
 emptying the basket, " and the pies was beautiful. Tongue ; well that's 
 a wery good thing, when it an't a woman's. Bread knuckle o' ham, 
 reg'lar picter cold beef in slices, wery good. What's in them stone 
 jars, young touch-and-go ? "
 
 194 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Beer in this one," repljgLthe boy, taking from his shoulder a couple 
 of large stone bottles, fastened together by a leathern strap " cold 
 punch in t'other." 
 
 " And a wery good notion of a lunch it is, take it altogether," said 
 Mr. Weller, surveying his arrangement of the repast with great satis- 
 faction. " Now, genTmen, ' fall on,' as the English said to the French 
 when they fixed agginets." 
 
 It needed no second invitation to induce the party to yield full justice 
 to the meal ; and as little pressing did it require, to induce Mr. Weller, 
 the long gamekeeper, and the two boys, to station themselves on the 
 grass at a little distance, arid do good execution upon a decent propor- 
 tion of the viands. An old oak tree afforded a pleasant shelter to the 
 group, and a rich prospect of arable and meadow land, intersected with 
 luxuriant hedges, and richly ornamented with wood, lay spread out 
 below them. 
 
 " This is delightful thoroughly delightful ! " said Mr. Pickwick, 
 the skin of whose expressive countenance, was rapidly peeling off, with 
 exposure to the sun. 
 
 " So it iS so it is, old fellow," replied Wardle. " Come ; a glass of 
 punch." 
 
 " With great pleasure," said Mr. Pickwick ; and the satisfaction of his 
 countenance after drinking it, bore testimony to the sincerity of the 
 reply. 
 
 " Good," said Mr. Pickwick, smacking his lips. " Very good. I'll 
 take another. Cool ; very cool. Come, gentlemen," continued Mr. 
 Pickwick, still retaining his hold upon the jar, " a toast. Our friends 
 at Dingley Dell." 
 
 The toast was drunk with loud acclamations. 
 
 " I'll tell you what I shall do, to get up my shooting again," said 
 Mr. Winkle, who was eating bread and ham with a pocket-knife. " I'll 
 put a stuffed partridge on the top of a post, and practise at it, beginning 
 at a short distance, and lengthening it by degrees. I understand it's 
 capital practice." 
 
 " I know a gen'l'man, Sir," said Mr. Weller, " as did that, and begun 
 at two yards; but he never tried it on agin; for he blowed the bird 
 right clean away at the first fire, and nobody ever seed a feather on him 
 arterwards." 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Have the goodness to reserve your anecdotes, 'till they are called 
 for." 
 
 " Cert'nly, Sir." 
 
 Here Mr. Weller winked the eye which was not concealed by the 
 beer-can he was raising to his lips, with such exquisite facetiousness, 
 that the two boys went into spontaneous convulsions, and even the 
 long man condescended to smile. 
 
 " Well, that certainly is most capital cold punch," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick, looking earnestly at the stone bottle ; " and the day is extrmely 
 warm, and Tupman, my dear friend, a glass of punch?"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 195 
 
 " With the greatest delight," replied Mrt Tupman ; and having drank 
 that glass, Mr. Pickwick took another, just to see whether there was 
 any orange peel in the punch, hecause. orange peel always disagreed with 
 him ; and finding that there was not, Mr. Pickwick took another glass 
 to the health of their absent friend, and then felt himself imperatively 
 called upon to propose another in honour of the punch-compounder, 
 unknown. 
 
 This constant succession of glasses, produced considerable effect upon 
 Mr. Pickwick ; his countenance beamed with the most sunny smiles, 
 laughter played around his lips, and good-humoured merriment twinkled 
 in his eye. Yielding by degrees to the influence of the exciting liquid, 
 rendered more so by the heat, Mr. Pickwick expressed a strong desire 
 to recollect a song which he had heard in his infancy, and the attempt 
 proving abortive, sought Jo stimulate his memory with more glasses of 
 punch, which appeared to'have quite a contrary effect ;for, from forget- 
 ting the words of the song, he began to forget how to articulate any 
 words at all ; and finally, after rising to his legs to address the company 
 in an eloquent speech, he fell into the barrow, and fast asleep, simul- 
 taneously. 
 
 The basket having been repacked, and it being found perfectly impossi- 
 ble to awaken Mr. Pickwick from his torpor, some discussion took place 
 whether it would be better for Mr. Weller to wheel his master back 
 again, or to leave him where he was, until they should all be ready to 
 return. The latter course was at length decided on ; and as their further 
 expedition was not to exceed an hour's duration, and as Mr. Weller 
 begged very hard to be one of the party, it was determined to leave Mr. 
 Pickwick asleep in the barrow, and to call for him on their return. So 
 away they went, leaving Mr. Pickwick snoring most comfortably in the 
 shade. 
 
 That Mr. Pickwick would have continued to snore in the shade until 
 his friends came back, or, in default thereof until the shades of evening 
 had fallen on the landscape, there appears no reasonable cause to doubt ; 
 always supposing that he had been suffered to remain there, in peace. 
 But he was not suffered to remain there in peace. And this is what 
 prevented him. 
 
 Captain Boldwig was a little fierce man in a stiff black neckerchief 
 and blue surtout, who, when he did condescend to walk about his pro- 
 perty, did it in company with a thick rattan stick with a brass ferrule, 
 and a gardener and sub-gardener with meek faces, to whom (the gar- 
 deners, not the stick) Captain Boldwig gave his orders with all due 
 grandeur and ferocity : for Captain Boldwig's wife's sister had married 
 a Marquis, and the Captain's house was a villa, and his land " grounds," 
 and it was all very high, and mighty, and great. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had not been asleep half an hour, when little Captain 
 
 Boldwig, followed by the two gardeners, came striding along as fast as 
 
 his size and importance would let him ; and wJien he came near the oak 
 
 tree, Captain Boldwig paused, and drew a long breath, and looked at the 
 
 / prospect, as if he thought the prospect ought to be highly gratified at 
 
 R
 
 196 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 having him to take notice of it ; and then he struck the ground empha- 
 tically with his stick, and summoned the head-gardener. 
 
 " Hunt," said Captain Boldwig. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," said the gardener. 
 
 " Roll this place to-morrow morning do you hear, Hunt ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sir." 
 
 " And take care that you keep me this place in good order do you 
 hear, Hunt ?" 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 " And remind me to have a board done about trespassers, and spring 
 guns, and all that sort of thing, to keep the common people out. Do 
 you hear, Hunt ; do you hear ? " 
 
 " I'll not forget it, Sir." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir," said the other man, advancing, with his 
 hand to his hat. 
 
 " Well, Wilkins, what's the matter with^ow ? " said Captain Boldwig. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir but I think there have been trespassers 
 here to-day." 
 
 " Ha ! " said the Captain, scowling around him. 
 
 " Yes, Sir they have been dining here, I think, Sir." 
 
 " Why, damn their audacity, so they have," said Captain Boldwig, 
 as the crumbs and fragments that were strewn upon the grass, met his 
 eye. " They have actually been devouring their food here. I wish I 
 had the vagabonds here ! " said the Captain, clenching the thick stick. 
 
 " I wish I had the vagabonds here," said the Captain wrathfully. 
 
 tc Beg your pardon, Sir," said Wilkins, " but " 
 
 " But what ? Eh ? " roared the Captain ; and following the timid 
 glance of Wilkins, bi& eyes encountered the wheelbarrow and Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Who are you, you rascal? " said the Captain, administering several 
 pokes to Mr. Pickwick's body with the thick stick. " What's your 
 name? " 
 
 " Cold punch," murmured Mr. Pickwick, as he sunk to sleep again. 
 
 " W 7 hat ? " demanded Captain Boldwig. 
 
 No reply. 
 
 " W T hat did he say his name was ? " asked the Captain. 
 
 " Punch, I think, Sir," replied Wilkins. 
 
 " That's his impudence that's his confounded impudence," said 
 Captain Boldwig. ie He's only feigning to be asleep now," said the 
 Captain, in a high passion. " He's drunk; he's a drunken plebeian. 
 Wheel him away, Wilkins, wheel him away directly." 
 
 " Where shall I wheel him to, Sir?" inquired Wilkins, with great 
 timidity. 
 
 " Wheel him to the Devil," replied Captain Boldwig. 
 
 *' Very well, Sir," said Wilkius. 
 
 " Stay," said the Captain. 
 
 Wilkins stopped accordingly. 
 
 " Wheel him," said the Captain, " wheel him to the pound ; and let
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 197 
 
 us see whether he calls himself Punch, when he comes to himself. He 
 shall not bully me he shall not bully me. Wheel him away." 
 
 Away Mr. Pickwick was wheeled in compliance with this imperious 
 mandate ; and the great Captain Boldwig, swelling with indignation, 
 proceeded on his walk. 
 
 Inexpressible was the astonishment of the little party when they 
 returned, to find that Mr. Pickwick had disappeared, and taken the 
 wheelbarrow with him. It was the most mysterious and unaccountable 
 thing- that was ever heard of. For a lame man to have got upon his 
 legs without any previous notice, and walked off, would have been most 
 extraordinary ; but when it came to his wheeling a heavy barrow before 
 him, by way of amusement, it grew positively miraculous. They searched 
 every nook and corner round, together and separately : they shouted, 
 whistled, laughed, called and all with the same result. Mr. Pickwick 
 was not to be found ; and after some hours of fruitless search, they 
 arrived at the unwelcome conclusion, that they must go home without 
 him. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Pickwick had been wheeled to the Pound, and safely 
 deposited therein, fast asleep in the wheelbarrow, to the immeasurable 
 delight and satisfaction, not only of all the boys in the village, but three 
 fourths of the whole population, who had gathered round in expectation 
 of his waking. If their most intense gratification had been awakened 
 by seeing him wheeled in, how many hundred-fold was their joy increased 
 when, after a few indistinct cries of " Sam ! " he sat up in the barrow, 
 and gazed with indescribable astonishment on the faces before him. 
 
 A general shout was of course the signal of his having woke up ; and 
 his involuntary inquiry of " What's the matter?" occasioned another, 
 louder than the first, if possible. 
 
 " Here's a game," roared the populace. 
 
 " Where am I ? " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " In the Pound," replied the mob. 
 
 " How came I here ? What was I doing ? Where was I brought 
 from ? " 
 
 " Boldwig Captain Boldwig," was the only reply. 
 
 " Let me out," cried Mr. Pickwick. " Where's my servant ? Where 
 are my friends ? " 
 
 " You an't got no friends. Hurrah ! " And then there came a 
 turnip, and then a potato, and then an egg, with a tew other little 
 tokens of the playful disposition of the many-headed. 
 
 How long this scene might have lasted, or how much Mr. Pickwick 
 might have suffered, no one can tell, had not a carriage which was 
 driving swiftly by, suddenly pulled up, from whence there descended 
 old Wardle and Sam Weller, the former of whom, in far less time than 
 it takes to write it, if not to read it, had made his way to Mr. Pickwick's 
 side, and placed him in the vehicle, just as the latter had concluded the 
 third and last round of a single combat with the town-beadle. 
 
 " Run to the Justice's," cried a dozen voices. 
 
 " Ah, run avay," said Mr. Weller, jumping up on the box. " Give 
 my compliments Mr. Veller's compliments to the Justice, and tell 
 R 2
 
 198 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 him I've spoilt his beadle, and that, if he'll svear in a new 'un, I'll come 
 back agin to-morrow and spoil him. Drive on, old feller." 
 
 " I'll give directions for the commencement of an action for false 
 imprisonment against this Captain Boldwig, directly I get to London," 
 said Mr. Pickwick, as soon as the carriage turned out of the town. 
 
 " We were trespassing, it seems," said Wardle. 
 
 " I don't care," said Mr. Pickwick, " I'll bring the action." 
 
 " No, you won't," said Wardle. 
 
 " I will, by " but as there was a humorous expression in Wardle's 
 face, Mr. Pickwick checked himself, and said " Why not ? " 
 
 " Because," said old Wardle, half-bursting with laughter, " because 
 they might turn round on some of us, and say we had taken too much 
 cold punch." 
 
 Do what he would, a smile would come into Mr. Pickwick's face ; the 
 smile extended into a laugh, the laugh into a roar, and the roar became 
 general. So, to keep up their good humour, they stopped at the first 
 road-side tavern they came to, and ordered a glass of brandy and water 
 all round, with a magnum of extra strength, for Mr. Samuel Weller. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SHOWING HOW DODSON AND FOGG WERE MEN OF BUSINESS, AND 
 THEIR CLERKS MEN OF PLEASURE; SHOWING ALSO, WHAT CHOICE 
 SPIRITS ASSEMBLED AT THE MAGPIE AND STUMP, AND WHAT 
 A CAPITAL CHAPTER THE NEXT ONE WILL BE. 
 
 IN the ground-floor front of a dingy house, at the very furthest end of 
 Freeman's Court, Cornhill, sat the four clerks of Messrs. Dodson and 
 Fogg, two of His Majesty's Attorneys of the Courts of King's Bench 
 and Common Pleas at Westminster, and solicitors of the High Court of 
 Chancery: the aforesaid clerks catching about as favourable glimpses of 
 Heaven's light and Heaven's sun, in the course of their daily labours, 
 as a man might hope to do, were he placed at the bottom of a reasonably 
 deep well; and without the opportunity of perceiving the stars in the 
 day-time, which the latter secluded situation affords. 
 
 The clerks' office of Messrs. Dodson and Fogg was a dark, mouldy, 
 earthy-smelling room, with a high wainscotted partition to screen the 
 clerks from the vulgar gaze : a couple of old wooden chairs, a very loud- 
 ticking clock, an almanack, an umbrella-stand, a row of hat pegs, and a 
 few shelves, on which were deposited several ticketed bundles of dirty 
 papers, spme old deal boxes with paper labels, and sundry decayed stone 
 ink bottles of various shapes and sizes. There was a glass door leading 
 into the passage which formed the entrance to the court, and on the 
 outer side of this glass door, Mr. Pickwick, closely followed by Sam 
 Weller, presented himself on the Friday morning succeeding the occur- 
 rence, of which a faithful narration is given in the last chapter. 
 
 " Come in, can't you," cried a voice from behind the partition, in 
 reply to Mr. Pickwick's gentle tap at the door. And Mr. Pickwick 
 and Sam entered accordingly.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 199 
 
 " Mr. Dodson or Mr. Fogg at borne, Sir?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, 
 gently, advancing, hat in hand, towards the partition. 
 
 " Mr. Dodson ain't at home, and Mr. Fogg's particularly engaged," 
 replied the voice ; and at the same time the head to which the voice 
 belonged, with a pen behind its ear, looked over the partition, and at 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 It was a ragged head, the sandy hair of which, scrupulously parted 
 on one side, and flattened down with pomatum, was twisted into little 
 semi-circular tails round a flat face ornamented with a pair of small eyes, 
 and garnished with a very dirty shirt-collar, and a rusty black stock. 
 
 " Mr. Dodson ain't at home, and Mr. Fogg's particularly engaged," 
 said the man to whom the head belonged. 
 
 " When will Mr. Dodson be back, sir ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Can't say." 
 
 te Will it be long before Mr. Fogg is disengaged, sir?" 
 
 " Don't know." 
 
 Here the man proceeded to mend his pen with great deliberation, 
 while another clerk, who was mixing a Seidlitz powder, under cover of 
 the lid of his desk, laughed approvingly. 
 
 " I think I'll wait," said Mr. Pickwick. There was no reply ; so 
 Mr. Pickwick sat down unbidden, and listened to the loud ticking of the 
 clock and the murmured conversation of the clerks. 
 
 " That was a game, wasn't it?" said one of the gentlemen, in a 
 brown coat and brass buttons, inky drabs, and bluchers, at the conclusion 
 of some inaudible relation of his previous evening's adventures. 
 
 " Devilish good devilish good," said the Seidlitz-powder man. 
 
 *' Tom Cummins was in the chair," said the man with the brown coat ; 
 " It was half-past four when I got to Somers Town, and then I was so 
 precious drunk, that I couldn't find the place where the latch-key went 
 in, and was obliged to knock up the old 'ooman. I say, I wonder 
 what old Fogg 'ud say, if he knew it. I should get the sack, I 
 s'pose eh ? " 
 
 At this humorous notion, all the clerks laughed in concert. 
 
 " There was such a game with Fogg here, this mornin'," said the man. 
 in the brown coat, " while Jack was up stairs sorting the papers, and 
 you two were gone to the stamp-office. Fogg was down here opening 
 the letters, when that chap as we issued the writ against at Camberwell, 
 you know, came in what's his name again ?" 
 
 " Ramsey," said the clerk who had spoken to Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah, Ramsey a precious seedy-looking customer. ' Well, sir,' 
 says old Fogg, looking at him very fierce you know his way ' well, 
 sir, have you come to settle?' < Yes, I have, Sir,' said Ramsey, put- 
 ting his hand in his pocket, and bringing out the money, ' the debt's 
 two pound ten, and the costs three pound five, and here it is, Sir ;' and 
 he sighed like bricks, as he lugged out the money, done up in a bit of 
 blotting-paper. Old Fogg looked first at the money, and then at him, 
 and then he coughed in his rum way, so that I knew something was 
 coming. * You don't know there's a declaration filed, which increases 
 the costs materially, I suppose ? ' said Fogg. ' You don't say that, Sir,'
 
 200 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 said Ramsey, starting- tack; ' the time was only out, last night, Sir.' 
 4 I do say it, though,' said Fogg, ' my clerk's just gone to tile it. 
 Hasn't Mr. Jackson gone to file that declaration in Bullman and 
 Ramsey, Mr. Wicks?' Of course I said yes, and then Fogg coughed 
 again, and looked at Ramsey. ' My God!' said Ramsey; ' and here 
 have I nearly driven myself mad, scraping this money together, and all 
 to no purpose.' None at all,' said Fogg, coolly ; ' so you had better 
 go back and scrape some more together, and bring it here in time.' 
 I can't get it, by God,' said Ramsey, striking the desk with his fist. 
 * Don't bully me, Sir,' said Fogg, getting into a passion on purpose. 
 ' I am not bullying you, Sir,' said Ramsey. ' You are/ said Fogg ; 
 ' get out, Sir ; get out of this office, Sir, and come back, Sir, when you 
 know how to behave yourself.' Well, Ramsey tried to speak, but Fogg 
 wouldn't let him, so he put the money in his pocket, and sneaked out. 
 The door was scarcely shut, when old Fogg turned round to me, with a 
 sweet smile on his face, and drew the declaration out of his coat pocket. 
 ' Here, Wicks,' says Fogg, ' take a cab, and go down to the Temple 
 as quick as you can, and file that. The costs are quite safe, for he's a 
 steady man with a large family, at a salary of five-and-twenty shillings 
 a week, and if he gives us a warrant of attorney, as he must in the end, 
 I know his employers will see it paid ; so we may as well get all we can 
 out of him, Mr. Wicks ; it's a Christian act to do it, Mr. Wicks, for 
 with his large family and small income, he'll be all the better for a good 
 lesson against getting into debt, won't he, Mr. Wicks, won't he ?' 
 and he smiled so goodnaturedly as he went away, that it was delightful 
 to see him. He is a capital man of business," said Wicks, in a tone of 
 the deepest admiration, " capital, isn't he?" 
 
 The other three cordially subscribed to this opinion, and the anecdote 
 afforded the most unlimited satisfaction. 
 
 " Nice men these here, Sir," whispered Mr. Weller to his master ; 
 " wery nice notion of fun they has, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick nodded assent, and coughed to attract the attention of 
 the young gentlemen behind the partition, who, having now relaxed 
 their minds by a little conversation among themselves, condescended to 
 take some notice of the stranger. 
 
 " I wonder whether Fogg's disengaged now?" said Jackson. 
 
 " I'll see," said W 7 icks, dismounting leisurely from his stool. " What 
 name shall I tell Mr. Fogg ? " 
 
 " Pickwick," replied the illustrious subject of these memoirs. 
 
 Mr. Jackson departed up stairs on his errand, and immediately re- 
 turned with a message that Mr. Fogg would see Mr. Pickwick in five 
 minutes ; and having delivered it, returned again to his desk. 
 
 " W T hat did he say his name was ?" whispered Wicks. 
 
 " Pickwick," replied Jackson ; " it's the defendant in Bardell and 
 Pickwick." 
 
 A sudden scraping of feet, mingled with the sound of suppressed 
 laughter, was heard from behind the partition. 
 
 ** They're a twiggin' you, Sir," whispered Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Twigging me, Sam I" replied Mr. Pickwick; " what do you mean 
 by twigging me?"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 201 
 
 Mr. Weller replied by pointing with his thumb over his shoulder : 
 and Mr. Pickwick, on looking up, became sensible of the pleasing fact, 
 that all the four clerks, with countenances expressive of the utmost 
 amusement, and their heads thrust over the wooden screen, were 
 minutely inspecting the figure and general appearance of the supposed 
 trifler with female hearts, and disturber of female happiness. On his 
 looking up, the row of heads suddenly disappeared, and the sound of 
 pens travelling at a furious rate over paper, immediately succeeded. 
 
 A sudden ring at the bell which hung in the office, summoned Mr. 
 Jackson to the apartment of Fogg, from whence he came back to say 
 that he (Fogg) was ready to see Mr. Pickwick if he would step up 
 stairs. 
 
 Up stairs Mr. Pickwick did step accordingly, leaving Sam Weller 
 below. The room door of the one-pair back, bore inscribed in legible 
 characters the imposing words "Mr. Fogg;" and, having tapped 
 thereat, and been desired to come in, Jackson ushered Mr. Pickwick 
 into the presence. 
 
 " Is Mr. Dodson in ? " inquired Mr. Fogg. 
 
 " Just come in, Sir," replied Jackson. 
 
 " Ask him to step here." 
 1 " Yes, Sir." Exit Jackson. 
 
 " Take a seat, sir," said Fogg ; " there is the paper, Sir : my partner 
 will be here directly, and we can converse about this matter, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick took a seat and the paper, but, instead of reading the 
 latter, peeped over the top of it, and took a survey of the man of 
 business, who was an elderly pimply-faced, vegetable-diet sort of man, 
 in a black coat, dark mixture trousers, and small black gaiters ; a kind 
 of being who seemed to be an essential part of the desk at which he was 
 writing, and to have about as much thought or feeling. 
 
 After a few minutes' silence, Mr. Dodson, a plump, portly, stern- 
 looking man, with a loud voice, appeared : and the conversation com- 
 menced. 
 
 " This is Mr. Pickwick," said Fogg. 
 
 " Ah ! You are the defendant, Sir, in Bavdell and Pickwick ? " said 
 Dodson. 
 
 " I am, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Well, Sir," said Dodson, " and what do you propose ? " 
 
 "Ah!" said Fogg, thrusting his hands into his trousers' pockets, 
 and throwing himself back in his chair, " what do you propose, Mr. 
 Pickwick?" 
 
 " Hush, Fogg," said Dodson, " let me hear what Mr. Pickwick has 
 to say." 
 
 " I came, gentlemen," replied Mr. Pickwick, gazing placidly on 
 the two partners,. " I came here, gentlemen, to express the surprise 
 with which I received your letter of the other day, and to inquire what 
 grounds of action you can have against me." 
 
 " Grounds of" Fogg had ejaculated thus much, when he was stopped 
 by Dodson. 
 
 " Mr. Fogg,'' said Dodson, " I am going to speak."
 
 202 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 <f I beg your pardon, Mr. Dodson," said Fogg-. 
 
 " For the grounds of action, Sir," continued Dodson, with moral 
 elevation in his air, " you will consult your own conscience and your 
 own feelings. We, Sir, we, are guided entirely by the statement of our 
 client. That statement, Sir, may be true, or it may be false; it may 
 be credible, or it may be incredible* but, if it be true, and if it be 
 credible, I do not hesitate to say, Sir, that our grounds of action, Sir, 
 are strong, and not to be shaken. You may be an unfortunate man, 
 Sir, or you may be a designing one ; but if I were called upon as a 
 juryman upon my oath, Sir, to express an opinion of your conduct, Sir, 
 I do not hesitate to assert that I should have but one opinion about it." 
 Here Dodson drew himself up, with an air of offended virtue, and looked 
 at Fogg, who thrust his hands further in his pockets, and, nodding his 
 head sagely, said, in a tone of the fullest concurrence, " Most certainly." 
 
 " Well, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, with considerable pain depicted in 
 his countenance, " you will permit me to assure you, that I am a most 
 unfortunate man, so far as this case is concerned." 
 
 " I hope you are, Sir," replied Dodson ; " I trust you may be, Sir. 
 If you are really innocent of what is laid to your charge, you are more 
 unfortunate than I had believed any man could possibly be. What do 
 you say, Mr. Fogg?" 
 
 " I say precisely what you say," replied Fogg, with a smile of in- 
 credulity. 
 
 " The writ, Sir, which commences the action," continued Dodson, 
 " was issued regularly. Mr. Fogg, where is the prcecipe book?" 
 
 " Here it is," said Fogg, handing over a square book, with a parch- 
 ment cover. 
 
 " Here is the entry," resumed Dodson. " < Middlesex, Capias Martha ' 
 Bardell, widow, v. Samuel Pickwick. Damages, 1500. Dodson 
 and Fogg foi the plaintiff, Sept. 28 ,1830.' All regular, Sir ; perfectly." 
 And Dodson coughed and looked at Fogg, who said " Perfectly," also. 
 And then they both looked at Mr. Pickwick, 
 
 " I am to understand, then," said Mr. Pickwick, '< that it really is 
 your intention to proceed with this action ? " 
 
 " Understand, Sir ! that you certainly may," replied Dodson, with 
 something as near a smile as his importance would allow. 
 
 ' And that the damages are actually laid at fifteen hundred pounds ?" 
 said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " To which understanding you may add my assurance, that if we 
 could have prevailed upon our client, they would have been laid at treble 
 the amount, Sir :" replied Dodson. 
 
 " I believe Mrs. Bardell specially said, however," observed Fogg, 
 glancing at Dodson, " that she would not compromise for a farthing 
 less." 
 
 " Unquestionably," replied Dodson, sternly. For the action was 
 only just begun ; and it wouldn't have done to let Mr. Pickwick com- 
 promise it then, even if he had been so disposed. 
 
 " As you offer no terms, Sir," said Dodson, displaying a slip of 
 parchment in his right hand, and affectionately pressing a paper copy
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 203 
 
 of it, on Mr. Pickwick with his left, " I had better serve you with a copy 
 of this writ, Sir. Here is the original, Sir." 
 
 " Very well, gentlemen, very well," said Mr. Pickwick, rising in 
 person and wratii at the same time ; " you shall hear from my solicitor, 
 gentbmen." 
 
 " We shall be very happy to do so," said Fogg, rubbing his hands. 
 
 " Very," said Dodson, opening the door. 
 
 " And before I go, gentlemen," said the excited Mr. Pickwick, turn- 
 ing round on the landing, " permit me to say, that of all the disgraceful 
 and rascally proceedings " 
 
 " Stay, Sir, stay," interposed Dodson, with great politeness. " Mr. 
 Jackson Mr. Wicks." 
 
 " Sir," said the two clerks, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. 
 
 " I just want you to hear what this gentleman says," replied Dod- 
 son. " Pray, go on, Sir disgraceful and rascally proceedings, I think 
 you said." 
 
 " I did," said Mr. Pickwick, thoroughly roused. " I said, Sir, that 
 of all the disgraceful and rascally proceedings that ever were attempted, 
 this is the most so. I repeat it, Sir." 
 
 " You hear that, Mr. Wicks ? " said Dodson. 
 
 " You won't forget these expressions, Mr. Jackson ? " said Fogg. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to call us swindlers, Sir," said Dodson. 
 " Pray do, Sir, if you feel disposed now pray do, Sir." 
 
 " I do," said Mr. Pickwick. " You are swindlers." 
 
 " Very good," said Dodson. " You can hear down there, I hope, 
 Mr. Wicks." 
 
 " Oh yes, Sir," said Wicks. 
 
 " You had better come up a step or two higher, if you can't," added 
 Mr. Fogg. 
 
 " Go on, Sir ; do go on. You had better call us thieves, Sir ; or 
 perhaps you would like to assault one of us. Pray do it, Sir, if you 
 would ; we will not make the smallest resistance. Pray do it, Sir." 
 
 As Fogg put himself very temptingly within the reach of Mr. Pick- 
 wick's clenched fist, there is little doubt that that gentleman would have 
 complied with his earnest entreaty, but for the interposition of Sam, 
 who, hearing the dispute, emerged from the office, mounted the stairs, 
 and seized his master by the arm. 
 
 " You just come avay," said Mr. Weller. " Battledore and shuttle- 
 cock's a wery good game, vhen you an't the shuttlecock and two lawyers 
 the battledores, in vich case it get's too excitin' to be pleasant. Come 
 avay, Sir. If you want to ease your mind by blowing up somebody, 
 come out into the court and blowup me ; but it's rayther too expensive 
 \vork to be carried on here." 
 
 And without the slightest ceremony, Mr. Weller hauled his master 
 down the stairs, and down the court, and having safely deposited him 
 in Cornhill, fell behind, prepared to follow whithersoever he should 
 lead. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick walked on abstractedly, crossed opposite the Mansion 
 House, and bent his steps up Cheapside. Sam began to wonder where 
 they were going, when his master turned round, and said
 
 204 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Sam, I will go immediately to Mr. Perker's." 
 
 " That's just exactly the wery place vfere you ought to have gone last 
 night," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I think it is, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I know it is," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Well, well, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick, " we will go there at once, 
 but first, as I have been rather ruffled, I should like a glass of brandy 
 and water warm, Sam. Where can I have it, Sam ?" 
 
 Mr. Weller's knowledge of London was extensive and peculiar. He 
 replied, without the slightest consideration 
 
 " Second court on the right hand side last house but vun on the 
 same side the vay take the box as stands in the first fire-place, 'cos 
 there an't no leg in the middle o' the table, vhich all the others has, and 
 its wery inconwenient." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick observed his valet's directions implicitly, and bidding 
 Sam follow him, entered the tavern he had pointed out, where the hot 
 brandy and water was speedily placed before him ; while Mr. Weller, 
 seated at a respectful distance, though at the same table with his master, 
 was accommodated with a pint of porter. 
 
 The room was one of a very homely description, and was apparently 
 under the especial patronage of stage coachmen : for several gentlemen, 
 who had all the appearance of belonging to that learned profession, were 
 drinking and smoking in the different boxes. Among the number was 
 one stout, red-faced, elderly man in particular, seated in an opposite box, 
 who attracted Mr. Pickwick's attention. The stout man was smoking 
 with great vehemence, but between every half-dozen puffs, he took his 
 pipe from his mouth, and looked first at Mr. Weller and then at Mr. 
 Pickwick. Then he would bury in a quart pot, as much of his counte- 
 nance as the dimensions of the quart-pot admitted of its receiving, and 
 take another look at Sam and Mr. Pickwick. Then he would take ano- 
 ther half-dozen puffs with an air of profound meditation, and look at 
 them again. And at last the stout man, putting up his legs on the 
 seat, and leaning his back against the wall, began to puff at his pipe 
 without leaving off at all, and to stare through the smoke at the new 
 comers, as if he had made up his mind to see the most he could of them. 
 
 At first the evolutions of the stout man had escaped Mr. Weller's 
 observation, but by degrees as he saw Mr. Pickwick's eyes every now 
 and then turning towards him, he began to gaze in the same direction, 
 at the same time shading his eyes with his hand, as if he partially 
 recognised the object before him, and wished to make quite sure of its 
 identity. His doubts were speedily dispelled, however ; for the stout 
 man having blown a thick cloud from his pipe, a hoarse voice, like some 
 strange effort of ventriloquism, emerged from beneath the capacious 
 shawls which muffled his throat and chest, and slowly uttered these 
 sounds " Vy, Sammy." 
 
 " Who's that, Sam ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Why, I wouldn't ha' believed it, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, with 
 astonished eyes. " It's the old 'un." 
 
 " Old one," said Mr. Pickwick. " What old one ? "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 205 
 
 " My father, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. " How are you, my ancient?" 
 And with this beautiful ebullitien of filial affection, Mr. Weller, made 
 room on the seat beside him, for the stout man, who advanced pipe in 
 mouth and pot in hand, to greet him. 
 
 " Vy, Sammy/' said the father, " I han't seen you, for two years and 
 better." 
 
 " Nor more you have, old codger," replied the son. " How's mother 
 in law ? " 
 
 " Vy, I'll tell you what, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, senior, withmuch, 
 solemnity in his manner; " there never was a nicer woman as a widder; 
 than that 'ere second wentur o' mine a sweet cretur she was, Sammy 
 and all I can say on her now, is, that as she was such an uncommon 
 pleasant widder, it's a great pity she ever changed her condition. She 
 don't act as a vife, Sammy." 
 
 " Don't she, though ? " inquired Mr. Weller junior. 
 
 The elder Mr. Weller shook his head, as he replied with a sigh, " I've 
 done it once too often, Sammy ; I've done it once too often. Take 
 example by your father, my boy, and be wery careful o* widders all your 
 life, specially if they've kept a public house, Sammy ;" and having 
 delivered this parental advice with great pathos, Mr. Weller senior 
 re-filled his pipe from a tin box he carried in his pocket : and, lighting 
 his fresh pipe from the ashes of the old one, commenced smoking at a 
 great rate. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Sir," he said, renewing the subject, and addressing 
 Mr. Pickwick, after a considerable pause, " nothin' personal, I hope, 
 Sir ; I hope yon han't got a widder, Sir." 
 
 " Not I/' replied Mr. Pickwick, laughing ; and while Mr. Pickwick 
 laughed, Sam Weller informed his parent in a whisper, of the relation 
 in which he stood towards that gentleman. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Sir," said Mr. Weller, senior, taking off his 
 hat, " I hope you've no fault to find with Sammy, Sir." 
 
 " None whatever," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " W T ery glad to hear it, Sir," replied the old man ; " I took a good 
 deal o' pains with his eddication, Sir; let him run in the streets when 
 he was wery young, and shift for his-self. It's the only way to make 
 a boy sharp, Sir." 
 
 " Rather a dangerous process, I should imagine," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " And not a wery sure one, neither," added Mr. Weller ; " I got 
 reglarly done the other day." 
 
 " No ! " said the father. 
 
 " I did," said the son ; and he proceeded to relate in as few words 
 as possible, how he had fallen a ready dupe to the stratagems of Job 
 Trotter. 
 
 Mr. Weller senior listened to the tale with the most profound 
 attention, and, at its termination, said 
 
 " Worn't one o' these chaps slim and tall, with long hair, and the 
 gift o' the gab wery gallopin'?" 
 
 Mr. Pickwick did not quite understand the last item of description, 
 but, comprehending the first, said " Yes," at a venture.
 
 206 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Tether's a black-haired chap in mulberry livery, with a wery large 
 head?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, he is," said Mr. Pickwick and Sam, with great earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 " Then I know where they are, and that's all about it," said Mr. 
 Weller; *' they're at Ipswich, safe enough, them two." 
 
 No!" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Fact," said Mr. Weller, " and I'll tell you how I know it. I 
 work an Ipswich coach now and then for a friend o' mine. I worked 
 down the wery day arter the night as you caught the rheumatiz, and at 
 the Black Boy at Chelmsford the wery place they'd come to I took 
 'em up, right through to Ipswich, where the man servant him in the 
 mulberries told me they was a goin' to put up for a long time." 
 
 " I'll follow him/' said Mr. Pickwick; " we may as well see Ipswich 
 as any other place. I'll follow him." 
 
 " You're quite ^certain it was them, governor?" inquired Mr. Weller, 
 junior. 
 
 " Quite, Sammy, quite," replied his father, " for their appearance is 
 wery sing'ler; besides that 'ere, I wondered to see the gen'lm'n so 
 familiar with his servant ; and, more than that, as they sat in front, 
 right behind the box, I heard 'em laughing, and saying how they'd done 
 old Fireworks." 
 
 "Old who?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 . " Old Fireworks, Sir, by which, I've no doubt, they meant you, Sir." 
 
 There is nothing positively vile or atrocious in the appellation of 
 " old Fireworks," but still it is by no means a respectful or flattering 
 designation. The recollection of all the wrongs he had sustained at 
 Jingle's hands, had crowded on Mr. Pickwick's mind, the moment Mr. 
 Weller began to speak : it wanted but a feather to turn the scale, and 
 "old Fireworks" did it. 
 
 " I'll follow him," said Mr. Pickwick, with an emphatic blow on the 
 table. 
 
 " I shall work down to Ipswich the day arter to-morrow, Sir," said 
 Mr. Weller the elder, " from the Bull in Whitechapel; and if you really 
 mean to go, you'd better go with me." 
 
 " So we had," said Mr. Pickwick ; " very true ; I can write to Bury, 
 and tell them to meet me at Ipswich. We will go with you. But don't 
 hurry away, Mr. Weller; won't you take anything?" 
 
 " You're wery good, Sir," replied Mr. W., stepping short " perhaps 
 a small glass of brandy to drink your health, and success to Sammy, 
 Sir, wouldn't be amiss/' 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Pickwick. " A glass of brandy here." 
 
 The brandy was brought : and Mr. Weller, after pulling his hair to 
 Mr. Pickwick, and nodding to Sam, jerked it down his capacious throat 
 as if it had been a small thimble-full. 
 
 " Well done, father," said Sam, " take care, old fellow, or you'll 
 have a touch of your old complaint, the gout." 
 
 " I've found a sov'rin' cure for that, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, 
 setting down the glass.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 207 
 
 " A sovereign cure for the gont," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily pro- 
 ducing his note-book, " what is it?" 
 
 " The gout, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, " the gout is a complaint as 
 arises from too much ease and comfort. If ever you're attacked with 
 the gout, Sir, jist you marry a widder as has got a good loud woice, with 
 a decent notion of usin' it, and you'll never have the gout agin. It's 
 a capital prescription, Sir. I takes it reg'lar, and I can warrant it 
 to drive away any illness as is caused by too much jollity." Having 
 imparted this valuable secret, Mr. Weller drained his glass once more, 
 produced a laboured wink, sighed deeply, and slowly retired. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of what your father says, Sam ?" inquired 
 Mr. Pickwick, with a smile. 
 
 "Think, Sir!" replied Mr. Weller; " why, I think he's the wictim 
 o' connubiality, as Blue Beard's domestic chaplain said, with a tear of 
 pity, ven he buried him." 
 
 There was no replying to this very apposite conclusion, and, there- 
 fore, Mr. Pickwick, after settling the reckoning, resumed his walk to 
 Gray's Inn. By the time he reached its secluded groves, however, 
 eight o'clock had struck, and the unbroken stream of gentlemen in 
 muddy high-lows, soiled white hats, and rusty apparel, who were 
 pouring towards the different avenues of egress, warned him that the 
 majority of the offices had closed for that day. 
 
 After climbing two pairs of steep and dirty stairs, he found his 
 anticipations were realised. Mr. Perker's " outer door" was closed ; 
 and the dead silence which followed Mr. Weller's repeated kicks 
 thereat, announced that the officials had retired from business for the 
 night. 
 
 " This is pleasant, Sam," said Mr, Pickwick; " I shouldn't lose an 
 hour in seeing him ; I shall not be able to get one wink of sleep to- 
 night, I know, unless I have the satisfaction of reflecting that I have 
 confided this matter to a professional man." 
 
 " Here's an old 'ooman comin' up stairs, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; 
 " p'raps she knows where we can find somebody. Hallo, old lady, vere's 
 Mr. Perker's people?" 
 
 " Mr. Perker's people," said a thin, miserable-looking old woman, 
 stopping to recover breath after the ascent of the staircase, " Mr. 
 Perker's people's gone, and I'm a goin' to do the office out." 
 " Are you Mr. Perker's servant?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 " I am Mr. Perker's laundress," replied the old woman. 
 " Ah," said Mr. Pickwick, half aside to Sara, " it's a curious circum- 
 stance, Sam, that they call the old women in these inns, laundresses. I 
 wonder what's that for." 
 
 " 'Cos they has a mortal awersion to washing anythin', I suppose, 
 Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said Mr. Pickwick, looking at the old woman, 
 whose appearance as well as the condition of the office, which she had 
 by this time opened, indicated a rooted antipathy to the application of 
 soap and water ; " do you know where I can find Mr. Perker, my good 
 woman ? "
 
 208 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " No I don't," replied the old woman, gruffly ; " he's out o' town 
 now." 
 
 " That's unfortunate," said Mr. Pickwick ; " where's his clerk do 
 you know ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know where he is, but he wouldn't thank me for telling 
 you," replied the laundress. 
 
 " I have very particular business with him," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Won't it do in the morning?" said the woman. 
 
 " Not so well," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Well," said the old woman, " if it was anything- very particular, 
 I was to say where he was, so I suppose there's no harm in telling-. If 
 you just go to the Magpie and Stump, and ask at the bar for Mr. 
 Lowten, they'll show you in to him, and he's Mr. Perker's clerk." 
 
 With this direction, and having been furthermore informed that the 
 hostelry in question was situated in a court, happy in the double advan- 
 tage of being in the vicinity of Clare Market, and closely approximating 
 to the back of New Inn, Mr. Pickwick and Sam descended the ricketty 
 staircase in safety, and issued forth in quest of the Magpie and Stump. 
 
 This favoured tavern, sacred to the evening orgies of Mr. Lowten and 
 his companions, was what ordinary people would designate a public- 
 house. That the landlord was a man of a money-making turn, was 
 sufficiently testified by the fact of a small bulk-head beneath the tap- 
 room window, in size and shape not unlike a sedan-chair, being underlet 
 to a mender of shoes : and that he was a being of a philanthropic mind, 
 was evident from the protection afforded to a pie-man, who vended his 
 delicacies without fear of interruption, on the very door-step. In the 
 lower windows, which were decorated with curtains of a saffron hue, 
 dangled two or three printed cards, bearing reference to Devonshire 
 cyder and Dantzic spruce, while a large black board, announcing in 
 white letters to an enlightened public, that there were 500,000 barrels 
 of double stout in the cellars of the establishment, left the mind in a 
 state of not unpleasing doubt and uncertainty, as to the precise direction 
 in the bowels of the earth, in which this mighty cavern might be sup- 
 posed to extend. When we add, that the weather-beaten sign-board 
 bore the half-obliterated semblance of a magpie intently eyeing a crooked 
 streak of brown paint, which the neighbours had been taught from 
 infancy to consider as the "stump," we have said all that need be 
 said, of the exterior of the edifice. 
 
 On Mr. Pickwick's presenting himself at the bar, an elderly female 
 emerged from behind a screen therein, and presented herself before him. 
 
 " Is Mr. Lowten here, Ma'am?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes he is, Sir," replied the landlady. Here, Charley, show the 
 gentleman in, to Mr. Lowten." 
 
 " The gen'lm'n can't go in, just now," said a shambling pot-boy, with 
 a red head, " 'cos Mr. Lowten's a singin' a comic song, and he'll put 
 him out. He'll be done d'rectly, Sir." 
 
 The red-headed pot-boy bad scarcely finished speaking-, when a most 
 unanimous hammering of tables, and jingling of glasses, announced that 
 the song- had that instant terminated ; and Mr. Pickwick, after desiring
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 209 
 
 Sam to solace himself in the tap, suffered himself to be conducted into 
 the presence of Mr. Lowten. 
 
 At the announcement of" a gentleman to speak to you, Sir," a pnffy 
 faced young man who filled the chair at the head of the table, looked 
 with some surprise in the direction from whence the voice proceeded : 
 and the surprise seemed to be by no means diminished, when his eyes 
 rested on an individual whom he had never seen before. 
 
 " I beg- your pardon, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " and I am very sorry 
 to disturb the other gentlemen, too, but I come on very particular busi- 
 ness ; and if you will suffer me to detain you at this end of the room 
 for five minutes, I shall be very much obliged to you." 
 
 The puffy-faced young man rose, and drawing a chair close to Mr. 
 Pickwick in an obscure corner of the room, listened attentively to his 
 tale of woe. 
 
 '' Ah," he said, when Mr. Pickwick had concluded, " Dodson and 
 Fogg sharp practice their' s capital men of business is Dodson and 
 Fogg, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick admitted the sharp practice of Dodson and Fogg, and 
 Lowten resumed. 
 
 " Perker ain't in town, and he won't be neither, before the end of 
 next week ; but if you want the action defended, and will leave the 
 copy with me, I can do all that's needful 'till he comes back." 
 
 " That's exactly what I came here for," said Mr. Pickwick, handing 
 over the document. " If any thing particular occurs, you can write to 
 me at the post-office, Ipswich." 
 
 " That's all right," replied Mr. Perker's clerk; and then seeing Mr. 
 Pickwick's eye wandering curiously towards the table, he added, " Will 
 you join us, for half-an-hour or so ? We are capital company here to- 
 night. There's Samkin and Green's managing-clerk, and Smithers 
 and Price's chancery, and Pimkin and Thomas's out o' door sings a 
 capital song, he does and Jack Bamber, and ever so many more. You're 
 come out of the country, I suppose. Would you like to join us?" 
 
 Mr. Pickwick could not resist so tempting an opportunity of study- 
 ing human nature. He suffered himself to be led to the table, where, 
 after having been introduced to the company in due form, he was accom- 
 modated with a seat near the chairman, and called for a glass of his 
 favourite beverage. 
 
 A profound silence, quite contrary to Mr. Pickwick's expectation, 
 succeeded. 
 
 " You don't find this sort of thing disagreeable, I hope, Sir ? " said 
 his right hand neighbour, a gentleman in a checked shirt and Mosaic 
 studs, with a cigar in his mouth. 
 
 " Not in the least," replied Mr. Pickwick, " I like it very much, 
 although I am no smoker myself." 
 
 " I should be very sorry to say I wasn't," interposed another gentle- 
 men on the opposite side of the table. " It's board and lodging to me, 
 is smoke." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick glanced at the speaker, and thought that if it were 
 washing too, it would be all the better.
 
 210 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Here there was another pause. Mr. Pickwick was a stranger, and 
 his coming had evidently cast a damp upon the party. 
 
 " Mr. Grundy's going to oblige the company with a song," said the 
 chairman. 
 
 " No he ain't," said Mr. Grundy. 
 
 " Why not?" said the chairman. 
 
 " Because I can't," said Mr. Grundy. 
 
 " You had better say you won't," replied the chairman. 
 
 " Well, then, I won't," retorted Mr. Grundy. Mr. Grundy's positive 
 refusal to gratify the company, occasioned another silence. 
 
 " Won't anybody enliven us?" said the chairman, despondingly. 
 
 "Why don't you enliven us yourself, Mr. Chairman?" said a young 
 man with a whisker, a squint, and an open shirt collar (dirty) from the 
 bottom of the table. 
 
 " Hear! hear!" said the smoking gentleman, in the Mosaic 
 jewellery. 
 
 " Because I only know one song, and I have sung it already, and it's 
 a fine of ' glasses round' to sing the same song twice in a night," 
 replied the chairman. 
 
 This was an unanswerable reply, and silence prevailed again. 
 
 " I have been to-night, gentlemen," said Mr. Pickwick, hoping to 
 start a subject which all the company could take part in discussing, " I 
 have been to-night in a place which you all know very well, doubtless, 
 tut which I have not been in before, for some years, and know very 
 little of; I mean Gray's Inn, gentlemen. Curious little nooks in a 
 great place, like London, these old inns are." 
 
 " By Jove," said the chairman, whispering across the table to Mr. 
 Pickwick, " you have hit upon something that one of us, at least, 
 would talk upon for ever. You'll draw old Jack Bamber out ; he was 
 never heard to talk about anything else but the Inns, and he has lived 
 alone in them, till he's half crazy." 
 
 The individual to whom Lowten alluded, was a little yellow high- 
 shouldered man, whose countenance, from his habit of stooping forward 
 when silent, Mr. Pickwick had not observed before. He wondered 
 though, when the old man raised his shrivelled face, and bent his bright 
 grey eye upon him, with a keen inquiring look, that such remarkable 
 features could have escaped his attention for a moment. There was a 
 fixed grim smile perpetually on his countenance ; he leant his chin on 
 a long skinny hand, with nails of extraordinary length; and as he 
 inclined his head to one side, and looked keenly out from beneath his 
 ragged grey eyebrows, there was a strange, wild slyness in his leer, 
 quite repulsive to behold. 
 
 This was the figure that now started forward, and burst into an 
 animated torrent of words. As this chapter has been a long one how- 
 ever, and as the old man was a remarkable personage, it will be more 
 respectful to him, and more convenient to us, to let him speak for 
 himself in a fresh one.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 IN WHICH THE OLD MAN LAUNCHES FORTH INTO HIS FAVOURITE 
 THEME, AND RELATES A STORY ABOUT A QUEER CLIENT. 
 
 " AHA !" said the old man, a brief description of whose manner and 
 appearance concluded the last chapter, " Aha ! who was talking about 
 the Inns?" 
 
 " I was, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick " I was observing what sin- 
 gular old places they are." 
 
 " You ! " said the old man, contemptuously " What do you know 
 of the time when young men shut themselves up in those lonely rooms, 
 and read and read, hour after hour, and night after night, till their 
 reason wandered beneath their midnight studies ; till their mental 
 powers were exhausted ; till morning's light brought no freshness or 
 health to them ; and they sank beneath the unnatural devotion of their 
 youthful energies to their dry old books? Coming down to a later 
 time, and a very different day, what do^ow know of the gradual sinking 
 beneath consumption, or the quick wasting of fever the grand results 
 of 'life' and dissipation which men have undergone in those same 
 rooms ? How many vain pleaders for mercy, do you think have turned 
 away heart-sick from the lawyer's office, to find a resting-place in the 
 Thames, or a refuge in the gaol ? They are no ordinary houses, those. 
 There is not a pannel in the old wainscotting, but what, if it were 
 endowed with the powers of speech and memory, could start from the 
 wall, and tell its tale of horror the romance of life, Sir, the romance 
 of life. Common-place as they may seem now, I tell you they are 
 strange old places, and I would rather hear many a legend with a terrific- 
 sounding name, than the true history of one old set of chambers." 
 
 There was something so odd in the old man's sudden energy, and 
 the subject which had called it forth, that Mr. Pickwick was prepared 
 with no observation in reply; and the old man checking his impetuosity, 
 and resuming the leer, which had disappeared during his previous excite- 
 ment, said 
 
 " Look at them in another light : their most common-place and least 
 romantic : what fine places of slow torture they are. Think of the 
 needy man who has spent his all, beggared himself, and pinched jbis 
 friends, to enter the profession, which is destined never to yield a morsel 
 of bread to him. The waiting the hope the disappointment the 
 fear the misery the poverty the blight on his hopes, and end to his 
 career the suicide perhaps, or, better still, the shabby, slip-shod 
 drunkard. Am I not right about them, eh?" And the old man 
 rubbed his hands, and leered as if in delight at having found another 
 point of view in which to place his favourite subject. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick eyed the old man with great curiosity, and the 
 remainder of the company smiled, and looked on in silence.
 
 212 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Talk of your German universities," said the little old man 
 " Pooh, pooh ! there's romance enough at home, without going half a 
 mile for it ; only people never think of it." 
 
 " I never thought of the romance of this particular subject before, 
 certainly," said Mr. Pickwick, laughing. 
 
 " To be sure you didn't," said the little old man, " of course not. 
 As a friend of mine used to say to me, ' What is there in chambers, in 
 particular?' ' Queer old places,' said I. ' Not at all,' said he. ' Lonely,' 
 said I. ' Not a bit of it,' said he. He died one morning of apoplexy, 
 as he was going to open his outer door. Fell with his head in his own 
 letter-box, and there he lay for eighteen months. Every body thought 
 he'd gone out of town." 
 
 " And how was he found at last?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " The benchers determined to break his door open, as he hadn't paid 
 any rent for two years. So they did. Forced the lock ; and a very 
 dusty skeleton in a blue coat, black knee-shorts, and silks, fell forward 
 in the arms of the porter who opened the door. Queer, that. Rather, 
 perhaps ; rather, eh ?" And the little old man put his head more on 
 one side, and rubbed his bands with unspeakable glee. 
 
 " I know another case," said the little old man, when his chuckles 
 uad in some degree subsided " It occurred in Clifford's Inn. Tenant 
 of a top set bad character shut himself up in his bed-room closet, 
 and took a dose of arsenic. The steward thought he had run a\vay : 
 opened the door, and put a bill up. Another man came, took the 
 chambers, furnished them, and went to live there. Somehow or other 
 he couldn't sleep always restless and uncomfortable. ' Odd,' says he. 
 * I'll make the other room my bed-chamber, and this my sitting-room.' 
 He made the change, and slept very well at night, but suddenly found 
 that somehow he couldn't read in the evening: he got nervous and 
 uncomfortable, and used to be always snuffing his candles and staring 
 about him. < I can't make this out,' said he, when he came home 
 from the play one night, and was drinking a glass of cold grog, with 
 his back to the wall, in order that he mightn't be abie to fancy there 
 was any one behind him ' I can't make it out,' said he ; and just then 
 his eyes rested on the little closet that had been always locked up, and 
 a shudder ran through his whole frame from top to toe. ' I have felt 
 this strange feeling before,' said he ' I cannot help thinking there's 
 something wrong about that closet.' He made a strong effort, plucked 
 up his courage, shivered the lock with a blow or two of the poker, 
 opened the door, and there, sure enough, standing bolt upright in the 
 corner, was the last tenant, with a little bottle clasped firmly in his 
 hand, and his face livid with the hue of a painful death." As the little 
 old man concluded, he looked round on the attentive faces of his won- 
 dering auditory with a smile of grim delight. 
 
 " What strange things these are you tell us of, Sir," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick, minutely scanning the old man's countenance, by the aid of his 
 glasses. 
 
 " Strange!" said the little old man " Nonsense; you think them 
 strange, because you know nothing about it. They are funny, but not 
 uncommon."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 213 
 
 "Funny!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, involuntarily. 
 "Yes, funny, are they not?" replied the little old man, with a 
 diabolical leer; and then, without pausing- for an answer, he continued . 
 " I knew another man let me see it's forty years ago now who 
 took an old, damp, rotten set of chambers, in one of the most ancient 
 Inns, that had been shut up and empty for years and years before. 
 There were lots of old women's stories about the place, and it certainly 
 was very far from being a cheerful one ; but he was poor, and the- 
 rooms were cheap, and that would have been quite a sufficient reason 
 for him, if they had been ten times worse than they really were. He 
 was obliged to take some mouldering fixtures that were on the place, 
 and, among the rest, was a great lumbering wooden press for papers, 
 with large glass doors, and a green curtain inside; a pretty useless thing 
 for him, for he had no papers to put in it ; and as to his clothes, he 
 carried them about with him, and that wasn't very hard work, either. 
 "Well, he had moved in all his furniture it wasn't quite a truck-full 
 and sprinkled it about the room, so as to make the four chairs look as 
 much like a dozen as possible, and was sitting down before -the fire at 
 night, drinking the first glass of two gallons of whiskey he had ordered 
 on credit, wondering whether it would ever be paid for, and if so, in how 
 many years' time, when his eyes encountered the glass doors of the 
 wooden press. 'Ah !' says he ' If I hadn't been obliged to take that 
 ugly article at the old broker's valuation, I might have got something 
 comfortable for the money. I'll tell you what it is, old fellow,' he said, 
 speaking aloud to the press, just because he had got nothing else to 
 speak to ' If it wouldn't cost more to break up your old carcase, than 
 it would ever be worth afterwards, I'd have a fire out of you, in less than 
 no time.' He had hardly spoken the words, when a sound resembling 
 a faint groan, appeared to issue from the interior of the case. It startled 
 him at first, but thinking, on a moment's reflection, that it must be 
 some young fellow in the next chambers, who had been dining out, be 
 put his feet on the fender, and raised the poker to stir the fire. At 
 that moment, the sound was repeated : and one of the glass doors slowly 
 opening, disclosed a pale and emaciated figure in soiled and worn apparel, 
 standing erect in the press. The figure was tall and thin, and the 
 countenance expressive of care and anxiety ; but there was something 
 in the hue of the skin, and gaunt and unearthly appearance of the 
 whole form, which no being of this world was ever seen to wear. ' Who 
 are you ?' said the new tenant, turning very pale, poising the poker in 
 his hand, however, and taking a very decent aim at the countenance of 
 the figure ' Who are you ?' ' Don't throw that poker at me,' replied 
 the form ' If you hurled it with ever so sure an aim, it would pass 
 through me, without resistance, and expend its force on the wood behind. 
 I am a spirit.' 'And, pray, what do you want here?' faltered the 
 tenant. ' In tin's room,' replied the apparition, ' my worldly ruin was 
 worked, and I and my children beggared. In this press, the papers in 
 a long, long suit, which accumulated for years, were deposited. In this 
 room, when I had died of grief, and long-deferred hope^ two wily harpies 
 s2
 
 214 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 divided the wealth for which I had contested during 1 a wretched 
 existence, and of which, at last, not one farthing was left for my unhappy 
 descendants. I terrified them from the spot, and since that day have 
 prowled by night the only period at which I can re-visit the earth about 
 the scenes of my long-protracted misery. This apartment is mine : 
 leave it to me.' ' If you insist upon making your appearance here,' 
 said the tenant, who had had time to collect his presence of mind during 
 this prosy statement of the ghost's ' I shall give up possession with 
 the greatest pleasure ; but I should like to ask you one question, if you 
 will allow me.' ' Say on,' said the apparition, sternly. ' Well,' said 
 the tenant, ' I don't apply the observation personally to you, because it 
 is equally applicable to all the ghosts I ever heard of; but it does 
 appear to me, somewhat inconsistent, that when you have an opportunity 
 of visiting the fairest spots of earth for I suppose space is nothing to 
 you you should always return exactly to the very places where you 
 have been most miserable.' ' Egad, that's very true ; I never thought 
 of that before,' said the ghost. ' You see, Sir,' pursued the tenant, 
 f this is a jrery uncomfortable room. From the appearance of that press, 
 I should be disposed to say that it is not wholly free from bugs ; and I 
 really think you might find much more comfortable quarters : to say 
 nothing of the climate of London, which is extremely disagreeable.' 
 * You are very right, Sir,' said the ghost, politely, ' it never struck me 
 till now; I'll try change of air directly' and, in fact, he began to vanish 
 as he spoke : his legs, indeed, had quite disappeared. ' And if, Sir,* 
 said the tenant, calling after him, ' if you would have the goodness to 
 suggest to the other ladies and gentlemen who are now engaged in 
 haunting old empty houses, that they might be much more comfortable 
 elsewhere, you will confer a very great benefit on society.' ' I will,' 
 replied the ghost; 'we must be dull fellows very dull fellows, indeed ; 
 I can't imagine how we can have been so stupid.' With these words, 
 the spirit disappeared ; and what is rather remarkable," added the old 
 man, with a shrewd look round the table, " he never came back again." 
 
 " That ain't bad, if it's true," said the man in the Mosaic studs, 
 lighting A fresh cigar. 
 
 tl lf!" exclaimed the old man, with a look of excessive contempt. 
 " I suppose," he added, turning to Lowten, " he'll say next, that ray 
 story about the queer client we had, when I was in an attorney's office, 
 is not true, either I shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " I shan't venture to say anything at all about it, seeing that I never 
 heard the story," observed the owner of the Mosaic decorations. 
 
 " I wish you would repeat it, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah, do," said Lowten, " nobody has heard it but me, and I have 
 nearly forgotten it." 
 
 The old man looked round the table, and leered more horribly than 
 ever, as if in triumph, at the attention which was depicted in every face. 
 Then rubbing his chin with his hand, and looking up to the ceiling as 
 if to recal the circumstances to his memory, he began as follows :
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 215 
 
 THE OLD MAN'S TALE ABOUT THE QUEER CLIENT. 
 
 IT matters little," said the old man, " where, or how, I picked up 
 this brief history. If I were to relate it in the order in which it reached 
 me, I should commence in the middle, and when I had arrived at the 
 conclusion, go back for a beginning. It is enough for me to say that 
 some of its circumstances passed before my own eyes ; for the remain- 
 der I know them to have happened, and there are some persons yet 
 living,, who will remember them but too well. 
 
 " In the Borough High Street, near Saint George's Church, and 
 on the same side of the way, stands, as most people know, the smallest 
 of our debtors' prisons the Marshalsea. Although in later times it 
 has been a very different place from the sink of filth and dirt it once 
 was, even its improved condition holds out but little temptation to the 
 extravagant or consolation to the improvident. The condemned felon 
 has as good a yard for air and exercise in Newgate, as the insolvent 
 debtor in the Marshalsea Prison. 
 
 " It may be my fancy, or it may be that I cannot separate the place 
 from the old recollections associated with it, but this part of London 
 I cannot bear. The street is broad, the shops are spacious, the noise 
 of passing vehicles, the footsteps of a perpetual stream of people all 
 the busy sounds of traffic,, resound in it from morn to midnight, but the 
 streets around, are mean and close ; poverty and debauchery lie fester- 
 ing in the crowded alleys, want and misfortune are pent up in the 
 narrow prison ; an air of gloom and dreariness seems, in my eyes at 
 least, to hang about the scene, and to impart to it, a squalid and sickly 
 hue. 
 
 " Many eyes, that have long since been closed in the grave, have 
 looked round upon that scene lightly enough, when entering the gate of 
 the old Marshalsea Prison for the first time : for despair seldom comes 
 with the first severe shock of misfortune. A man has confidence in un- 
 tried friends, he remembers the many offers of service so freely made by 
 his boon companions when he wanted them not ; he has hope the hope 
 of happy inexperience and however he may bend beneath the first 
 shock, it springs up in his bosom, and flourishes there for a brief space, 
 until it droops beneath the blight of disappointment and neglect. 
 How soon have those same eyes, deeply sunken in the head, glared from 
 faces wasted with famine, and sallow from confinement, in days when 
 it was no figure of speech to say that debtors rotted in prison, with no 
 hope of release, and no prospect of liberty ! The atrocity in its full 
 extent no longer exists, but there is enough of it left, to give rise to 
 occurrences that make the heart bleed. 
 
 " Twenty years ago, that pavement was worn with the footsteps of 
 a mother and child, who, day by day, so surely as the morning came, 
 presented themselves at the prison gate ; often after a night of restless 
 misery and anxious thoughts, were they there, a full hour too soon, 
 and then the young mother turning meekly away, would lead the child 
 to the old bridge, and raising him in her arms to shew him the glisten- 
 ing water, tinted wkh the light of the morning's sun, and stirring with
 
 216 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 all the bustling- preparations for business and pleasure that the river 
 presents at that early hour, endeavour to interest his thoughts in the 
 objects before him. But she would quickly set him down, and hiding 
 her face in her shawl, give vent to the tears that blinded her, for no 
 expression of interest or amusement lighted up his thin and sickly face. 
 His recollections were few enough, but they were all of one kind all 
 connected with the poverty and misery of his parents. Hour affer 
 hour, had he sat on his mother's knee, and with childish sympathy 
 watched the tears that stole down her face, and then crept quietly away 
 into some dark corner, and sobbed himself to sleep. The hard realities 
 of the world, with many of its worst privations hunger and thirst, and 
 cold and want had all come home to him, from the first dawnings of 
 reason; and though the form of childhood was there, its light heart, its 
 merry laugh, and sparkling eyes were wanting. 
 
 " The father and mother looked on upon this, and upon each other, 
 with thoughts of agony they dared not breathe in words. The healthy, 
 strong-made man, who could have borne almost any fatigue of active 
 exertion, was wasting beneath the close confinement and unhealthy 
 atmosphere of a crowded prison. The slight and delicate woman was 
 sinking beneath the combined effects of bodily and mental illness ; the 
 child's young heart was breaking. 
 
 " Winter came, and with it weeks of cold and heavy rain. The 
 poor girl had removed to a wretched apartment close to the spot of her 
 husband's imprisonment ; and though the change had been rendered 
 necessary by their increasing poverty, she was happier now, for she 
 was nearer him. For two months, she and her little companion watched 
 the opening of the gate as usual. One day she failed to come, for the 
 first time. Another morning arrived, and she came alone. The child 
 was dead. 
 
 " They little know, who coldly talk of the poor man's bereavements, 
 as a happy release from pain to the departed, and a merciful relief from 
 expense to the survivor they little know, I say, what the agony of 
 those bereavements is. A silent look of affection and regard when all 
 other eyes are turned coldly away the consciousness that we possess 
 the sympathy and affection of one being when all others have deserted 
 us is a hold, a stay, a comfort in the deepest affliction, which no 
 wealth could purchase, or power bestow. The child had sat at his 
 parents' feet for hours together, with his little hands patiently folded 
 in each other, and his thin wan face raised towards them. They had 
 seen him pine away, from day to day ; and though his brief existence 
 had been a joyless one, and he was now removed to that peace and rest 
 which, child as he was, he had never known in this world, they were 
 his parents, and his loss sunk deep into their souls. 
 
 " It was plain to those who looked upon the mother's altered face 
 that death must soon close the scene of her adversity and trial. Her 
 husband's fellow prisoners shrunk from obtruding on hisgrief and misery, 
 and left to himself alone, the small room he had previously occupied in 
 common with two companions. She shared it with him: and lingering- 
 on without paiD, but without hope, her life ebbed slowly away.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 217 
 
 " She had fainted one evening 1 in her husband's arras, and he had 
 borne her to the open window, to revive her with the air, when the 
 light of the moon falling full upon her face, shewed him a change upon 
 her features, which made him stagger beneath her weight, like a helpless 
 infant. 
 
 " ' Set me down George,' she said faintly. He did so, and seating 1 
 himself beside her, covered his face with his hands, and burst into tears. 
 
 " ' It is very hard to leave you George,' she said, ' but it's God's 
 will, and you must bear it for my sake. Oh ! how I thank him for 
 having taken our boy. He is happy, and in heaven now. What 
 would he have done here, without his mother ! ' 
 
 " ' You shall not die, Mary, you shall not die ;' said the husband, 
 starting up. He paced hurriedly to and fro, striking his head with his 
 clenched nsts ; then reseating himself beside her, and supporting her in 
 his arms, added more calmly, ' Rouse yourself, my dear girl pray, 
 pray do. You will revive yet.' 
 
 "'Never again George; never again' said the dying woman. 
 ' Let them lay rne by my poor boy now, but promise me, that if ever 
 you leave this dreadful place, and should grow rich, you will have us 
 removed to some quiet country churchyard, a long, long way off very 
 far from here, where we can rest in peace. Dear George, promise me 
 you will." 
 
 " ' I do, I do' said the man, throwing himself passionately on his 
 knees before her. ' Speak to me Mary, another word ; one look but 
 one ' 
 
 " He ceased to speak : for the arm that clasped his neck, grew stiff 
 and heavy. A deep sigh escaped from the wasted form before him; 
 the lips moved, and a smile played upon the face, but the lips were 
 pallid, and the smile faded into a rigid and ghastly stare. He was alone 
 in the world. 
 
 " That night, in the silence and desolation of his miserable room, the 
 wretched man knelt down by the dead body of his wife, and called on 
 God to witness a dreadful oath, that from that hour, he devoted himself 
 to revenge her death and that of his child ; that from thenceforth to 
 the last moment of his life, his whole energies should be directed to 
 this one object; that his revenge should be protracted and terrible; 
 that his hatred should be undying and unextinguishable ; and should 
 hunt its object through the world. 
 
 " The deepest despair, and passion scarcely human, had made such 
 fierce ravages on his face and form, in that one night, that his compa- 
 nions in misfortune shrunk affrighted from him as he passed by. His 
 eyes were bloodshot and heavy, his face a deadly white, and his body 
 bent as if with age. He had bitten his under lip nearly through 
 in the violence of his mental suffering, and the blood which had flowed 
 from the wound had trickled down his chin, and stained his shirt and 
 neckerchief. No tear, or sound of complaint escaped him; but the 
 unsettled look, and disordered haste with which he paced up and down 
 the yard, denoted the fever which was burning- within. 
 
 " It was necessary that his wife's body should be removed from the
 
 218 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 prison, without delay. He received the communication with perfect 
 calmness, and acquiesced in its propriety. Nearly all the inmates of the 
 prison had assembled to witness its removal ; they fell back on either side 
 when the widower appeared; he walked hurriedly forward, and sta- 
 tioned himself, alone, in a little railed area close to the lodge gate, from 
 whence the crowd, with an instinctive feeling of delicacy, had retired. 
 The rude coffin was borne slowly forward on men's shoulders. A 
 dead silence pervaded the throng, broken only by the audible lament- 
 ations of the women, and the shuffling steps of the bearers on the 
 stone pavement. They reached the spot where the bereaved husband 
 stood ; and stopped. He laid his hand upon the coffin, and mechani- 
 cally adjusting the pall with which it was covered, motioned them 
 onwards. The turnkeys in the prison lobby took off their hats as it 
 passed through, and in another moment the heavy gate closed behind it. 
 He looked vacantly upon the crowd, and fell heavily to the ground. 
 
 " Although for many weeks after this, he was watched night and 
 day, in the wildest ravings of fever, neither the consciousness of his 
 loss, nor the recollection of the vow he had made, ever left him for a 
 moment. Scenes changed before his eyes, place succeeded place, and 
 event followed event, in all the hurry of delirium ; but they were all 
 connected in some way with the great object of his mind. He was 
 sailing over a boundless expanse of sea, with a blood-red sky above, 
 and the angry waters lashed into fury beneath, boiling and eddying up, 
 on every side. There was another vessel before them, toiling and 
 labouring in the howling storm ; her canvass fluttering in ribbons from 
 the mast, and her deck thronged with figures who were lashed to the 
 sides, over which huge waves every instant burst, sweeping away some 
 devoted creatures into the foaming sea. Onward they bore, amidst the 
 roaring mass of water, with a speed and force which nothing could 
 resist ; and striking the stern of the foremost vessel, crushed her, beneath 
 their keel. From the huge whirlpool which the sinking wreck occa- 
 sioned, arose a shriek so loud and shrill the death-cry of a hundred 
 drowning wretches, blended into one fierce yell that it rung far above 
 the war-cry of the elements, and echoed, and re-echoed till it seemed 
 to pierce air, sky, and ocean. But what was that that old grey-head 
 that rose above the water's surface, and with looks of agony, and screams 
 for aid, buffeted with the waves! One look, and he had sprung from the 
 vessel's side, and with vigorous strokes was swimming towards it. He 
 reached it ; he was close upon it. They were his features. The old 
 man saw him coming, and vainly strove to elude his grasp. But he 
 clasped him tight, and dragged him beneath the water. Down, down 
 with him, fifty fathoms deep ; his struggles grew fainter and fainter, 
 until they wholly ceased. He was dead ; he had killed him, and had 
 kept his oath. 
 
 " He was traversing the scorching sands of a mighty desert, bare- 
 footed and alone. The sand choked and blinded him ; its fine thin 
 grains entered the very pores of his skin, and irritated him almost to 
 madness. Gigantic masses of the same material, carried forward by the 
 wind, and shone through, by the burning sun, stalked in the distance like
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 219 
 
 pillars of living fire. The bones of men, who had perished in the 
 dreary waste, lay scattered at his feet ; a fearful light fell on everything 
 around ; and so far as the eye could reach, nothing but objects of dread 
 and horror presented themselves. Vainly striving to utter a cry of 
 terror, with his tongue cleaving to his mouth, he rushed madly forward. 
 Armed with supernatural strength, he waded through the sand, until 
 exhausted with fatigue and thirst, he fell senseless on the earth. What 
 fragrant coolness revived him ; what gushing sound was that ? Water ! 
 It was indeed a well ; and the clear fresh stream was running at his 
 feet. He drank deeply of it, and throwing his aching limbs upon the 
 bank, sunk into a delicious trance. The sound of approaching foot- 
 steps roused him. An old grey-headed man tottered forward to slake 
 his burning thirst. It was he again. He wound his arms round the 
 old man's body, and held him back. He struggled in powerful con- 
 vulsions, and shrieked for water for but one drop of water to save his 
 life. But he held the old man firmly, and watched his agonies with 
 greedy eyes ; and when his lifeless head fell forward on his bosom, he 
 rolled the corpse from him with his feet. 
 
 " When the fever left him, and consciousness returned, he awoke to 
 find himself rich and free : to hear that the parent who would have let 
 him die in gaol would ! who had let those who were far dearer to him 
 than his own existence, die of want and the sickness of heart that me- 
 dicine cannot cure had been found, dead in his bed of down. He had all 
 the heart to leave his son a beggar, but proud even of his health and 
 strength, he had put off the act till it was too late, and now might 
 gnash his teeth in the other world, at the thought of the wealth his 
 remissness had left him. He woke to this, and he woke to more. To 
 recollect the purpose for which he lived, and to remember that his enemy 
 was his wife's own father the man who had cast him into prison, and 
 who, when his daughter and her child sued at his feet for mercy, had 
 spurned them from his door. Oh, how he cursed the weakness that 
 prevented him from being up, and active, in his scheme of vengeance ! 
 
 "He caused himself to be carried from the scene of his loss and misery, 
 and conveyed to a quiet residence on the sea coast not in the hope of 
 recovering his peace of mind or happiness, for both were fled for ever ; 
 but to restore his prostrate energies, and meditate on his darling object. 
 And here, some evil spirit cast in his way, the opportunity for his 
 first, most horrible revenge. 
 
 " It was summer time ; and wrapped in his gloomy thoughts, he 
 would issue from his solitary lodgings early in the evening, and wan- 
 dering along a narrow path beneath the cliffs to a wild and lonely spot 
 that had struck his fancy in his ramblings, seat himself on some fallen 
 fragments of the rock, and burying his face in his hands, remain there 
 for hours sometimes until night had completely closed in, and the 
 long shadows of the frowning cliffs above his head, cast a thick black 
 darkness on every object near him. 
 
 *' He was seated here, one calm evening in his old position, now and 
 then raising his head, to watch the flight of a seagull, or carry his eye 
 along the glorious crimson path, which commencing in the middle of 
 the ocean, seemed to lead to its very verge where the sun was setting,
 
 220 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 when the profound stillness of the spot was broken by a loud cry for 
 help ; he listened, doubtful of his having heard aright, when the cry 
 was repeated with even greater vehemence than before, and, starting to 
 his feet, he hastened in the direction from whence it proceeded. 
 
 " The tale told itself at once : some scattered garments lay on the 
 beach ; a human head was just visible above the waves at a little 
 distance from the shore; and an old man, wringing his hands in agony, 
 was running to and fro, shrieking for assistance. The invalid, whose 
 strength was now sufficiently restored, threw off his coat, and rushed 
 towards the sea, with the intention of plunging in, and dragging the 
 drowning man a-shore. 
 
 " ' Hasten here, Sir, in God's name ; help, help, Sir, for the love of 
 Heaven. He is my son, Sir, my only son,' said the old man, fran- 
 tically, as he advanced to meet him. ' My only son, Sir, and he is 
 dying before his father's eyes.' 
 
 " At the first word the old man uttered, the stranger checked him- 
 self in bis career, and, folding his arms, stood perfectly motionless. 
 
 " Great God !' exclaimed the old man, recoiling ' Heyling ! ' 
 
 " The stranger smiled, and was silent. 
 
 " ' Heyling ! ' said the old man, wildly' My boy, Heyling, my dear 
 boy, look, look;' and, gasping for breath, the miserable father pointed 
 to the spot where the young man was struggling for life. 
 
 " ' Hark ! ' said the old man ' He cries once more. He is alive 
 yet. Heyling, save him, save him.' 
 
 " The stranger smiled again, and remained immovable as a statue. 
 
 " ' I have wronged you,' shrieked the old man, falling on his knees, 
 and clasping his hands together Be revenged ; take my all, my life ; 
 cast me into the water at your feet, and, if human nature can repress a 
 struggle, I will die, without stirring hand or foot. Do it, Heyling, do 
 it, but save my boy, he is so young, Heyling, so young to die.' 
 
 " ' Listen,' said the stranger, grasping the old man fiercely by the 
 wrist ' I will have life for life, and here is ONE. My child died before 
 his father's eyes, a far more agonising and painful death than that young 
 slanderer of his sister's worth is meeting while I speak. You laughed 
 laughed in your daughter's face, where death had already set his hand 
 at our sufferings, then. What think you of them now ? See there, 
 see there.' 
 
 " As the stranger spoke, he pointed to the sea. A faint cry died 
 away upon its surface : the last powerful struggle of the dying man 
 agitated the rippling waves for a few seconds : and the spot where he 
 had gone down into his early grave, was undistinguishable from the 
 surrounding water. 
 
 " Three years had elapsed, when a gentleman alighted from a private 
 carriage at the door of a London attorney, then well known to the 
 public as a man of no great nicety in his professional dealings, and 
 requested a private interview on business of importance. Although 
 evidently not past the prime of life, his face was pale, haggard, and 
 dejected ; and it did not require the acute perception of the man of 
 business, to discern at a glance, that disease or suffering had done more
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 221 
 
 to work a change in his appearance, than the mere hand of time could 
 have accomplished in twice the period of his whole life. 
 
 " < I wish you to undertake some legal business for me,' said the 
 stranger. 
 
 " The attorney bowed obsequiously, and glanced at a large packet 
 which the gentleman carried in his hand. His visiter observed the 
 look, and proceeded. 
 
 " ' It is no common business,' said he ; ' nor have these papers reached 
 my hands without long trouble and great expense.' 
 
 " The attorney cast a still more anxious look at the packet : and his 
 visiter, untying the string that bound it, disclosed a quantity of promis- 
 sory notes, with some copies of deeds, and other documents. 
 
 " ' Upon these papers,' said the client, ' the man whose name they 
 bear, has raised, as you will see, large sums of money, for some years 
 past. There was a tacit understanding between him and the men into 
 whose hands they originally went and from whom I have by degrees 
 purchased the whole, for treble and quadruple their nominal value that 
 these loans should be from time to time renewed, until a given period 
 had elapsed. Such an understanding is nowhere expressed. He has 
 sustained many losses of late ; and these obligations accumulating upon 
 him at once, would crush him to the earth/ 
 
 " ' The whole amount is some thousands of pounds,' said the attorney, 
 looking over the papers. 
 
 " ' It is,' said the client. 
 
 " ' What are we to do ? ' inquired the man of business. 
 
 " ' Do ! ' replied the client, with sudden vehemence ' Put every 
 engine of the law in force, every trick that ingenuity can devise and 
 rascality execute ; fair means and foul ; the open oppression of the law, 
 aided by all the craft of its most ingenious practitioners. I would have 
 him die a harassing and lingering death. Ruin him, seize and sell his 
 lands and goods, drive him from house and home, and drag him forth a 
 beggar in his old age, to die in a common gaol.' 
 
 " ' But the costs, my dear Sir, the costs of all this,' reasoned the 
 attorney, when he had recovered from his momentary surprise f If the 
 defendant be a man of straw, who is to pay the costs, Sir?' 
 
 " ' Name any sum,' said the stranger, his hand trembling so violently 
 with excitement, that he could scarcely hold the pen he seized as he 
 spoke 'Any sum, and it is yours. Don't be afraid to name it, man. 
 I shall not think it dear, if you gain my object.' 
 
 " The attorney named a large sum, at hazard, as the advance he 
 should require to secure himself against the possibility of loss ; but 
 more with the view of ascertaining how far his client was really disposed 
 to go, than with any idea that he would comply with the demand. The 
 stranger wrote a cheque upon his banker, for the whole amount, and 
 left him. 
 
 " The draft was duly honoured, and the attorney, finding that his 
 strange client might be safely relied upon, commenced his work in 
 earnest. For more than two years afterwards, Mr. Heyling would sit 
 whole days together, in the office, poring over the papers as they accu-
 
 222 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 mnlated, and reading again and again, his eyes gleaming with joy, the 
 letters of remonstrance, the prayers for a little delay, the representa- 
 tions of the certain ruin in which the opposite party must be involved, 
 which poured in, as suit after suit, and process after process, were com- 
 menced. To all applications for a brief indulgence, there was but one 
 reply the money must he paid. Land, house, furniture, each in its 
 turn, was taken under some one of the numerous executions which 
 were issued ; and the old man himself would have been immured in 
 prison had he not escaped the vigilance of the officers, and fled. 
 
 " The implacable animosity of Heyling, so far from being satiated by 
 the success of his persecution, increased a hundred-fold with the ruin 
 he inflicted. On being informed of the old man's flight, his fury was 
 unbounded. He gnashed his teeth with rage, tore the hair from his 
 head, and assailed with horrid imprecations the men who had been 
 entrusted with the writ. He was only restored to comparative calmness 
 by repeated assurances of the certainty of discovering the fugitive. 
 Agents were sent in quest of him, in all directions ; every stratagem 
 that could he invented was resorted to, for the purpose of discovering 
 his place of retreat ; but it was all in vain. Half a year had passed over, 
 and he was still undiscovered. 
 
 " At length, late one night, Heyling, of whom nothing had been seen 
 for many weeks before, appeared at his attorney's private residence, and 
 sent up word that a gentleman wished to see him instantly. Before 
 the attorney, who had recognised his voice from above stairs, could order 
 the servant to admit him, he had rushed up the staircase, and entered 
 the drawing-room pale and breathless. Having closed the door, to pre- 
 vent being overheard, he sunk into a chair, and said, in a low voice 
 
 " ' Hush ! I have found him at last.' 
 
 " < No !' said the attorney ' Well done, my dear Sir ; well done.' 
 
 " ' He lies concealed in a wretched lodging in Camden Town,' said 
 Heyling ' Perhaps it is as well, we did lose sight of him, for he has 
 been living alone there, in the most abject misery, all the time, and he 
 is poor very poor.' 
 
 " ' Very good,' said the attorney ' You will have the caption made 
 to-morrow, of course ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' replied Heyling. ' Stay ! No ! The next day. You are 
 surprised at my wishing to postpone it,' he added, with a ghastly smile ; 
 but I had forgotten. The next day is an anniversary in his life : let 
 it be done then.' 
 
 " ' Very good,' said the attorney ' Will you write down instructions 
 for the officer ? ' 
 
 " ' No ; let him meet me here, at eight in the evening, and I will 
 accompany him myself.' 
 
 " They met on the appointed night, and, hiring a hackney-coach, 
 directed the driver to stop at that corner of the old Pancras road, at 
 which stands the parish workhouse. By the time they alighted there, 
 it was quite dark ; and, proceeding by the dead wall in front of the 
 Veterinary Hospital, they entered a small bye street, which is, or was 
 at that time, called Little College Street, and which, whatever it may
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 223 
 
 he now, was in those days a desolate place enough, surrounded by little 
 else than fields and ditches. 
 
 " Having drawn the travelling-cap he had on, half over his face, and 
 muffled himself in his cloak, Heyling stopped before the meanest- 
 looking house in the street, and knocked gently at the door. It was 
 at once opened by a woman, who dropped a curtesy of recognition, and 
 Heyling whispering the officer to remain below, crept gently up stairs, 
 and, opening the door of the front room, entered at once. 
 
 " The object of his search and his unrelenting animosity, now a 
 decrepid old man, was seated at a bare deal table, on which stood a 
 miserable candle. He started on the entrance of the stranger, and rose 
 feebly to his feet. 
 
 " ' What now, what now?' said the old man ' What fresh misery is 
 this? What do you want here?' 
 
 " ' A word with you,' replied Heyling. As he spoke, he seated 
 himself at the other end of the table, and, throwing off his cloak and 
 cap, disclosed his features. 
 
 " The old man seemed instantly deprived of the power of speech. 
 He fell backward in his chair, and, clasping his hands together, gazed 
 on the apparition with a mingled look of abhorrence and fear. 
 
 " ' This day six years,' said Heyling, ' I claimed the life you owed 
 me for my child's. Beside the lifeless form of your daughter, old man, 
 I swore to live a life of revenge. I have never swerved from my purpose 
 for a moment's space ; but if I had, one thought of her uncomplaining, 
 suffering look, as she drooped away, or of the starving face of our inno- 
 cent child, would have nerved me to my task. My first act of requital 
 you well remember : this is my last.' 
 
 " The old man shivered, and his hands dropped powerless by his 
 side. 
 
 " ' I leave England to-morrow,' said Heyling, after a moment's pause. 
 * To-night I consign you, to the living death to which you devoted 
 her a hopeless prison ' 
 
 " He raised his eyes to the old man's countenance, and paused. He 
 lifted the light to his face, set it gently down, and left the apartment. 
 
 " ' You had better see to the old man,' he said to the woman, as he 
 opened the door, and motioned the officer to follow him into the street 
 < I think he is ill.' The woman closed the door, ran hastily up stairs, 
 and found him lifeless. He had died in a fit. 
 
 " Beneath* a plain grave-stone, in one of the most peaceful and 
 secluded church-yards in Kent, where wild flowers mingle with the 
 grass, and the soft landscape around, forms the fairest spot in the garden 
 of England, lie the bones of the young mother and her gentle child. 
 But the ashes of the father do not mingle with theirs ; nor from that 
 night forward, did the attorney ever gain the remotest clue, to the sub- 
 sequent history of his queer client." 
 
 As the old man concluded his tale, he advanced to a peg in one 
 corner, and taking down his hat and coat, put them on with great
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 deliberation ; and, without saying another word, walked slowly away. 
 As the gentleman with the Mosaic studs had fallen asleep, and the 
 major part of the company were deeply occupied in the humorous 
 process of dropping melted tallow-grease into his brandy and water, 
 Mr. Pickwick departed unnoticed, and having settled his own score, and 
 that of Mr. Weller, he issued forth, in company with that gentleman, 
 from beneath the portal of the Magpie and Stump. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 MR. PICKWICK JOURNEYS TO IPSWICH, AND MEETS WITH A ROMAN- 
 TIC ADVENTURE WITH A MIDDLE-AGED LADY IN YELLOW CURL 
 PAPERS. 
 
 "THAT 'ere your governor's luggage, Sammy?*' inquired Mr. 
 Weller senior, of his affectionate son, as he entered the yard of the 
 Bull inn, Whitechapel, with a travelling bag and a small portmanteau. 
 
 " You might ha' made a worser guess than that, old feller," replied 
 Mr. Weller the younger, setting down his burden in the yard, and 
 sitting himself down upon it afterwards. " The Governor hisself '11 
 be down here presently." 
 
 " He's a cabbin' it, I suppose ?" said the father. 
 
 " Yes, he's a bavin' two mile o' danger at eight-pence," responded 
 the son. " How's mother-in-law this mornin' ? " 
 
 " Queer, Sammy, queer," replied the elder Mr. Weller, with im- 
 pressive gravity. '' She's been gettin' rayther in the Methodistical 
 order lately, Sammy ; and she is uncommon pious, to be sure. She's 
 too good a creetur for me, Sammy I feel I don't deserve her." 
 "" Ah," said Mr. Samuel, "that's wery self-denyin' o' you/' 
 
 Wery," replied his parent, with a sigh. " She's got hold o' some 
 inwention for grown-up people being born again, Sammy the new 
 birth, I thinks they calls it. I should wery much like to see that 
 system in haction, Sammy. I should wery much like to see your 
 mother-in-law born again. Wouldn't I put her out to nurse ! 
 
 " What do you think them women does t'other day," continued Mr. 
 Weller, after a short pause, during which he had significantly struck 
 the side of his nose with his fore-finger, some half-dozen times. " What 
 do you think they does, t'other day, Sammy ? " 
 
 " Don't know," replied Sam, " what ?" 
 
 " Goes and gets up a grand tea drinkin' for a feller they calls their 
 shepherd," said Mr. Weller. " I was a standing starin' in, at the 
 pictur shop down at our place, when I sees a little bill about it ; 
 * tickets half-a-crown. All applications to be made to the committee. 
 Secretary, Mrs. Weller;' and when I got home, there was the com- 
 mittee a sittin' in our back parlour fourteen women; I wish you 
 could ha' heard 'em Sammy. There they was, a passin' resolutions, 
 and wotin' supplies, and all sorts o' games. Well, what with your 
 mother-in-law a worrying me to go, and what with my looking for'ard
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 225 
 
 to seein' some queer starts if I did, I put my name down for a ticket ; 
 at six o'clock on the Friday evenin' I dresses myself out, wery smart, and 
 off I goes vith the old 'ooman, and up we walks into a fust floor where 
 there was tea things for thirty, and a whole lot o' women as begins 
 whisperin' to one another, and lookin' at me, as if they'd never seen a 
 rayther stout gen'lm'n of eight-and-fifty afore. By and bye, there comes 
 a great bustle down stairs, and a lanky chap with a red nose and white 
 neckcloth rushes up, and sings out, ' Here's the shepherd a coming to 
 wisit his faithful flock;' and in comes a fat chap in black, vith a great 
 white face, a smilin' avay like clock-work. Such goin's on, Sammy. 
 * The kiss of peace,' says the shepherd ; and then he kissed the women 
 all round, and ven he'd done, the man vith the red nose began. 1 was 
 just a thinkin' whether I hadn't better begin too 'specially as there 
 was a wery nice lady a sittin'next me ven in comes the tea, and your 
 mother-in-law, as had been makin' the kettle boil, down stairs. At it 
 they went, tooth and nail. Such a precious loud hymn Sammy, 
 while the tea was a brewing ; such a grace, such eatin' and drinkin*. I 
 wish you could ha' seen the shepherd walkin' into the ham and muffins. 
 I never see such a chap to eat and drink never. The red-nosed man 
 warn't by no means the sort of person you'd like to grub by contract, 
 but he was nothin' to the shepherd. Well ; arter the tea was over, 
 they sang another hymn, and then the shepherd began to preach : and 
 wery well he did it, considerin' how heavy them muffins must have lied 
 on his chest. Presently he pulls up, all of a sudden, and hollers out, 
 'Where is the sinner; where is the mis'rable sinner?' upon wbjch, all the 
 women looked at me, and began to groan as if they was dying. I thought 
 it was rather sing'ler, but hows'ever, I says nothing. Presently he pulls 
 lip again, and lookin' wery hard at me, says, 'Where is the sinner; where 
 is the mis'rable sinner ! ' and all the women groans again, ten times 
 louder than afore. I got rather savage at this, so 1 takes a step or two 
 for'ard and says, ' My friend,' says I, ' did you apply that e're obserwa- 
 tion to me ?' 'Stead of beggin' rny pardon as any gen'lm'n would ha' 
 done, he got more abusive than ever : called me a wessel, Sammy a 
 wessel of wrath and all sorts o' names. So my blood being r. g'iarly 
 up, I first gave him two or three for himself, and then two or three 
 more to hand over to the man with the red nose, and walked off. I 
 wish you could ha' heard how the women screamed Sammy, ven they 
 
 picked up the shepherd from under the table. Hallo ! here's the 
 
 governor, the size of life.' " 
 
 As Mr. Weller spoke, Mr. Pickwick dismounted from a cab, and en- 
 tered the yard. 
 
 " Fine mornin' Sir" said Mr. Weller senior. 
 
 " Beautiful indeed" replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Beautiful indeed," echoed a red-haired man with an inquisitive nose 
 and blue spectacles, who had unpacked himself from a cab at the same 
 moment as Mr. Pickwick. " Going to Ipswich, Sir?" 
 
 " I am," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Extraordinary coincidence. So am I." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick bowed. 
 
 " Going outside ?" said the red-haired man.
 
 226 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Pickwick bowed again. 
 
 " Bless my soul, how remarkable I am going outside, too," said the 
 red-haired man : " we are positively going together." And the red- 
 haired man, who was an important-looking, sharp-nosed, mysterious- 
 spoken personage, with a bird-like habit of giving his head a jerk every 
 time he said any thing, smiled as if he had made one of the strangest 
 discoveries that ever fell to the lot of human wisdom. 
 
 " I am happy in the prospect of your company, Sir," said Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah," said the new-comer, " it's a good thing for both of us, isn't 
 it ? Company, you see company is is it's a very different thing 
 from solitude a'n't it ? " 
 
 " There's no denyin' that 'ere," said Mr. Weller, joining in the con- 
 versation, with an affable smile. " That's what I call a self-evident 
 proposition, as the dog's-meat man said, when the house-maid told him 
 he warn't a gentleman." 
 
 " Ah," said the red-haired man, surveying Mr. Weller from head to 
 foot, with a supercilious look. " Friend of yours, Sir ? " 
 
 " Not exactly a friend," replied Mr. Pickwick, in a low tone. " The 
 fact is, he is my servant, but I allow him to take a good many liberties ; 
 for, between ourselves, I flatter myself he is an original, and lam rather 
 proud of him." 
 
 " Ah," said the red-haired man, " that, you see, is a matter of taste. 
 I am not fond of anything original ; I don't like it ; don't see the neces- 
 sity for it. What's your name, Sir ? " 
 
 " Here is my card, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, much amused by the 
 abruptness of the question, and the singular manner of the stranger. 
 
 " Ah," said the red-haired man, placing the card in his pocket-book, 
 " Pickwick ; very good. I like to know a man's name, it saves so much 
 trouble. That's my card, Sir. Magnus, you will perceive, Sir Mag- 
 nus is my name. It's rather a good name, I think, Sir ? " 
 
 " A very good name, indeed," said Mr. Pickwick, wholly unable to 
 repress a smile. 
 
 " Yes, I think it is," resumed Mr. Magnus. " There's a good name 
 before it, too, you will observe. Permit me, Sir if you hold the card 
 a little slanting, this way, you catch the light upon the up-stroke. 
 There Peter Magnus sounds well, I think, Sir." 
 
 " Very," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Curious circumstance about those initials, Sir," said Mr. Magnus. 
 " You will observe P. M. post meridian. In hasty notes to intimate 
 acquaintance, I sometimes sign myself ' Afternoon.' It amuses mj 
 friends very much, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " It is calculated to afford them the highest gratification, I should 
 conceive," said Mr. Pickwick, rather envying the ease with which Mr. 
 Magnus's friends were entertained. 
 
 Now, gen'lm'n," said the hostler, " coach is ready, if you 
 
 Is all my luggage in ? " inquired Mr. Magnus. 
 " All right, Sir."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 227 
 
 " Is the red bag- in ? " 
 
 All right, Sir." 
 
 " And the striped bag?" 
 
 " Fore boot, Sir." 
 
 " And the brown-paper parcel ?" 
 
 " Under the seat, Sir." 
 
 " And the leather hat-box? " 
 
 " They're all in, Sir." 
 
 " Now, will you get up ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Excuse me," replied Magnus, standing on the wheel. " Excuse 
 me, Mr. Pickwick. I cannot consent to get up, in this state of uncer- 
 tainty. I am quite satisfied from that man's manner, that that leather 
 hat-box is not in." 
 
 The solemn protestations of the hostler being wholly unavail- 
 ing, the leather hat-box was obliged to be raked up from the lowest 
 depth of the boot, to satisfy him that it had been safely packed ; and 
 after he had been assured on this head, he felt a solemn presentiment, 
 first, that the red bag was mislaid, and next that the striped bag had 
 been stolen, and then that the brown paper parcel had " come untied." 
 At length when he had received ocular demonstration of the groundless 
 nature of each and every of these suspicions, he consented to climb up 
 to the roof of the coach, observing that now he had taken every thing 
 off his mind, he felt quite comfortable and happy. 
 
 " You're given to nervousness, an't you, Sir? " inquired Mr. Weller 
 senior, eying the stranger askance, as he mounted to his place. 
 
 " Yes ; I always am rather, about these little matters," said the 
 stranger, " but I am all right now quite right." 
 
 " Well, that's a blessin'," said Mr. Weller. " Sammy, help your 
 master up to the box : t'other leg, Sir, that's it ; give us your hand, Sir. 
 Up with you. You was a lighter weight when you was a boy, Sir." 
 
 " True enough, that, Mr. Weller," said the breathless Mr. Pickwick, 
 good-humouredly, as he took his seat on the box beside him. 
 
 " Jump up in front, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. " Now Villam, 
 run 'em out. Take care o' the archvay, gen'lm'n. < Heads,' as the 
 pieman says. That'll do, Villam. Let 'em alone." And away went 
 the coach up Whitechapel, to the admiration of the whole population of 
 that pretty densely-populated quarter. 
 
 " Not a wery nice neighbourhood this, Sir," said Sam, with the touch 
 of the hat which always preceded his entering into conversation with 
 his master. 
 
 " It is not indeed, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick, surveying the crowded 
 and filthy street through which they were passing. 
 
 " It's a wery remarkaWe circumstance, Sir," said Sam, " that poverty 
 and oysters always seems to go together." 
 
 " 1 don't understand you, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " What I mean, Sir," said Sara, " is, that the poorer a place is, the 
 greater call there seems to be for oysters. Look here, Sir ; here's a 
 oyster stall to every half-dozen houses the street's lined vith 'em. 
 T
 
 228 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Blessed if I don't think that ven a man's wery poor, he rushes out of 
 his lodgings, and eats oysters in reg'lar desperation." 
 
 " To be sure he does," said Mr. Weller senior, " and it's jnst the 
 same vith pickled, salmon ! " 
 
 " Those are two very remarkable facts, which never occnrred to me 
 before," said Mr. Pickwick. " The very first place we stop at, I'll 
 make a note of them." 
 
 By this time they had reached the turnpike at Mile End ; a profound 
 silence prevailed, until they had got two or three miles further on, when 
 Mr. Weller senior turning suddenly to Mr. Pickwick, said 
 
 ' Wery queer life is a pike-keeper's, Sir." 
 
 A what? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " A pike-keeper." 
 
 " What do you mean by a pike-keeper ? " inquired Mr. Peter 
 Magnus. . 
 
 ' The old 'un means a turnpike keeper, gen'lm'n," observed Mr. 
 Weller, in explanation. 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Pickwick, " I see. Yes; very curious life. Very 
 uncomfortable." 
 
 " They're all on 'em, men as has met vith some disappointment in 
 life," said Mr. Weller senior. 
 
 tf Ay, ay ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes. Consequence of vich, they retires from the world, and shuts 
 themselves up in pikes ; partly vith the view of being solitary, and 
 partly to rewenge themselves on mankind, by takin' tolls." 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Pickwick, " I never knew that before." 
 
 " Fact, Sir," said Mr. Weller, " if they was gen'lm'n you'd call 'em 
 misanthropes, but as it is they only takes to pike-keepin'." 
 
 With such conversation, possessing the inestimable charm of blending 
 amusement with instruction, did Mr. Weller beguile the tediousness of 
 the journey, during the greater part of the day. Topics of conversation 
 were never wanting, for even when any pause occurred in Mr. Weller's 
 loquacity, it was abundantly supplied by the desire evinced by Mr. 
 Magnus to make himself acquainted with the whole of the personal 
 history of his fellow-travellers, and his loudly-expressed anxiety at every 
 stage, respecting the safety and well-being of the two bags, the leather 
 hat-box, and the brown paper parcel. 
 
 In the main street of Ipswich, on the left-hand side of the way, a 
 short distance after you have passed through the open space fronting 
 the Town Hall, stands an inn known far and wide by the appellation of 
 " The Great White Horse," rendered the more conspicuous by a stone 
 statue of some rampacious animal with flowing mane and tail, distantly 
 resembling an insane cart-horse, which is elevated above the principal 
 door. The Great White Horse is famous in the neighbourhood, in the 
 same degree as a prize ox, or county paper-chronicled turnip, or un- 
 wieldy pig for its enormous size. Never were such labyrinths of 
 un carpeted passages, such clusters of mouldy, badly-lighted rooms, such 
 huge numbers of small dens for eating or sleeping in, beneath any one
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. SJ29 
 
 roof, as are collected together between the four walls of the Great 
 White Horse at Ipswich. 
 
 It was at the door of this overgrown tavern, that the London coach 
 stopped, at the same hour every evening ; and it was from this same 
 London coach, that Mr. Pickwick, Sara Weller, and Mr. Peter Magnus 
 dismounted, on the particular evening to which this chapter of our history 
 bears reference. 
 
 " Do you stop here, Sir ? " inquired Mr. Peter Magnus, when the 
 striped bag, and the red bag, and the brown paper parcel, and the leather 
 hat-box, had all been deposited in the passage. " Do you stop here, 
 Sir? " 
 
 " I do," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Magnus, ie I never knew anything like these 
 extraordinary coincidences. Why, I stop here, too. I hope we dine 
 together? " 
 
 " With pleasure," replied Mr. Pickwick. " I am not quite certain 
 whether I have any friends here or not, though. Is there any gentle- 
 man of the name of Tupman here, waiter ? " 
 
 A corpulent man, with a fortnight's napkin under his arm, and coeval 
 stockings on his legs, slowly desisted from his occupation of staring 
 down the street, on this question being put to him by Mr. Pickwick; 
 and, after minutely inspecting that gentleman's appearance, from the 
 crown of his hat to the lowest button of his gaiters, replied emphati- 
 cally 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor any gentleman of the name of Snodgrass ? " inquired Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 No ! " 
 
 Nor Winkle ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " My friends have not arrived to-day, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. " We 
 will dine alone, then. Shew us a private room, waiter." 
 
 On this request being preferred, the corpulent man condescended to 
 order the boots to bring in the gentlemen's luggage, and preceding 
 them down a long dark passage, ushered them into a large badly-fur- 
 nished apartment, with a dirty grate, in which a small fire was making 
 a wretched attempt to be cheerful, but was fast sinking beneath the 
 dispiriting influence of the place. After the lapse of an hour, a bit of 
 fish and a steak, were served up to the travellers, and when the dinner 
 was cleared away, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Peter Magnus drew their 
 chairs up to the fire, and having ordered a bottle of the worst possible 
 port wine, at the highest possible price, for the good of the house, drank 
 brandy and water for their own. 
 
 Mr. Peter Magnus was naturally of a very communicative disposition, 
 and the brandy and water operated with wonderful effect in warming 
 into life the deepest hidden secrets of his bosom. After sundry accounts 
 of himself, his family, his connexions, his friends, his jokes, his business, 
 and his brothers (most talkative men have a great deal to say about 
 their brothers), Mr. Peter Magnus took a blue view of Mr. Pickwick 
 T 2
 
 230 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 through his coloured spectacles for several minutes, and then said, with 
 an air of modesty 
 
 " And what do you think what do you think, Mr. Pickwick I 
 have come down here for?" 
 
 " Upon my word," said Mr. Pickwick, " it is wholly impossible for 
 me to guess ; on business, perhaps." 
 
 " Partly right, Sir," replied Mr. Peter Magnus, " but partly wrong, 
 at the same time : try again, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " Really," said Mr. Pickwick, " I must throw myself on your mercy. 
 to tell me or not, as you may think best ; for I should never guess, if I 
 were to try all night." 
 
 " Why, then, he be he ! " said Mr. Peter Magnus, with a bashful 
 titter, " What should you think, Mr. Pickwick, if I had come down 
 here, to make a proposal, Sir, eh ? He he he I" 
 
 " Think I that you are very likely to succeed," replied Mr. Pickwick, 
 with one of his most beaming smiles. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Magnus, " but do you really think so, Mr. Pickwick ? 
 Do you, though ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No; but you're joking, though." 
 
 " I am not, indeed." 
 
 " Why, then," said Mr. Magnus, " to let you into a little secret, 7 
 think so too. I don't mind telling you, Mr. Pickwick, although I'm 
 dreadful jealous by nature horrid that the lady is in this house." 
 Here Mr. Magnus took off his spectacles, on purpose to wink, and 
 then put them on again. 
 
 " That's what you were running out of the room for, before dinner, 
 then, so often," said Mr. Pickwick, archly. 
 
 " Hush yes, you're right, that was it ; not such a fool as to see 
 her, though." k 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " No ; wouldn't do, you know, after having just come off a journey. 
 Wait till to-morrow, Sir ; double the chance then. Mr. Pickwick, Sir, 
 there is a suit of clothes in that bag, and a hat in that box, which I expect, 
 in the effect they will produce, will be invaluable to me, Sir." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes ; you must have observed my anxiety about them to-day. I 
 do not believe that such another suit of clothes, and such a hat, could 
 be bought for money, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick congratulated the fortunate owner of the irresistible 
 garments, on their acquisition ; and Mr. Peter Magnus remained for a 
 few moments, apparently absorbed in contemplation. 
 
 " She's a fine creature," said Mr. Magnus. 
 
 " Is she?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Very," said Mr. Magnus, " very. She lives about twenty miles 
 from here, Mr. Pickwick. I heard she would be here to-night and all 
 to-morrow forenoon, and came down to seize the opportunity. I think 
 an inn is a good sort of place to propose to a single woman in, Mr. 
 Pickwick. She is more likely to feel the loneliness of her situation
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 231 
 
 in travelling, perhaps, than she would be at home. What do you think, 
 Mr. Pickwick ? " 
 
 " I think it very probable," replied that gentleman. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Pickwick," said Mr. Peter Magnus, "but 
 I am naturally rather curious ; what may you have come down here 
 for ? " 
 
 " On a far less pleasant errand, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, the 
 colour mounting to his face at the recollection " I have come down 
 here, Sir, to expose the treachery and falsehood of an individual, upon 
 whose truth and honour I placed implicit reliance." 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Peter Magnus, " that's very unpleasant. It 
 is a lady, I presume ? Eh ? ah ! Sly, Mr. Pickwick, sly. Well, 
 Mr. Pickwick, Sir, I wouldn't probe your feelings for the world. 
 Painful subjects, these, Sir, very painful. Don't mind me, Mr. Pickwick, 
 if you wish to give vent to your feelings. I know what it is to be jilted, 
 Sir; I have endured that sort of thing three or four times." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you, for your condolence on what you presume 
 to be my melancholy case," said Mr. Pickwick, winding up his watch, 
 and lying it on the table, " but " 
 
 " No, no," said Mr. Peter Magnus, " not a word more : it's a painful 
 subject, I see, I see. What's the time, Mr. Pickwick?" 
 
 " Past twelve." 
 
 " Dear me, it's time to go to bed. It will never do, sitting here. I 
 shall be pale to-morrow, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 At the bare notion of such a calamity, Mr. Peter Magnus rang the 
 bell for the chamber-maid ; and the striped bag, the red bag, the leather 
 hat-box, and the brown-paper parcel, having been conveyed to his bed- 
 room, he retired in company with a japanned candlestick, to one side of 
 the house, while Mr. Pickwick, and another japanned candlestick, were 
 conducted through a multitude of tortuous windings, to another. 
 
 " This is your room, Sir," said the chamber-maid. 
 
 " Very well," replied Mr. Pickwick, looking round him. It was a 
 tolerably large double-bedded room, with a fire ; upon the whole, a more 
 comfortable-looking apartment than Mr. Pickwick's short experience 
 of the accommodations of the Great White Horse had led him. to 
 expect. 
 
 " Nobody sleeps in the other bed, of course," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh no, Sir." 
 
 " Very good. Tell my servant to bring me up some hot water at 
 half-past eight in the morning, and that I shall not want him any more 
 to-night." 
 
 " Yes, Sir." And bidding Mr. Pickwick good night, the chamber- 
 maid retired, and left him alone. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick sat himself down in a chair before the fire, and fell 
 into a train of rambling meditations. First he thought of his friends, 
 and wondered when they would join him ; then his mind reverted to 
 Mrs. Martha Bardell ; and from that lady it wandered, by a natural 
 process, to the dingy counting-house of Dodson and Fogg. From 
 Dodson and Fogg's it flew off at a tangent, to the very centre of the
 
 i!32 TOSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 history of the queer client : and then it came back to the Great White 
 Horse at Ipswich, with sufficient clearness to convince Mr. Pickwick 
 that he was falling- asleep : so he roused himself, and began to undress, 
 when he recollected he had left his watch on the table down stairs. 
 
 Now this watch was a special favourite with Mr. Pickwick, having 
 been carried about, beneath the shadow of his waistcoat, for a greater 
 number of years than we feel called upon to state, at present. The 
 possibility of going to sleep, unless it were ticking gently beneath his 
 pillow, or in the watch-pocket over his head, had never entered Mr. 
 Pickwick's brain. So as it was pretty late now, and he was unwilling 
 to ring his bell at that hour of the night, he slipped on his coat, of 
 which he had just divested himself, and taking the japanned candlestick 
 in his hand, walked quietly down stairs. 
 
 The more stairs Mr. Pickwick went down, the more stairs there 
 seemed to be to descend, and again and again, when Mr. Pickwick got 
 into some narrow passage, and began to congratulate himself on having 
 gained the ground-floor, did another flight of stairs appear before his 
 astonished eyes. At last he reached a stone hall, which he remembered 
 to have seen when he entered the house. Passage after passage did he 
 explore; room after room did he peep into; at length, just as he was 
 on the point of giving up the search in despair, he opened the door of 
 the identical room in which he had spent the evening, and beheld his 
 missing property on the table. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick seized the watch in triumph, and proceeded to re-trace 
 his steps to his bed-chamber. If his progress downwards had been 
 attended with difficulties and uncertainty, his journey back, was infinitely 
 more perplexing. Rows of doors, garnished with boots of every shape, 
 make, and size, branched off in every possible direction. A dozen times 
 did he softly turn the handle of some bed-room door, which resembled 
 his own, when a gruff cry from within of " Who the devil's that ?" or 
 " What do you want here ? " caused him to steal away, on tiptoe, with a 
 perfectly marvellous celerity. He was reduced to the verge of despair, 
 when an open door attracted his attention. He peeped in right at 
 last. There were the two beds, whose situation he perfectly remembered, 
 and the fire still burning. His candle, not a long one when he first 
 received it, had flickered away in the drafts of air through which he 
 had passed, and sunk into the socket, just as he closed the door after 
 him. "No matter," said Mr. Pickwick, " I can undress myself just 
 as well, by the light of the fire." 
 
 The bedsteads stood, one on each side of the door ; and on the inner 
 side of each, was a little path, terminating in a rush-bottomed chair, just 
 wide enough to admit of a person's getting into, or out of bed, on that 
 side, if he or she thought proper. Having carefully drawn the curtains 
 of his bed on the outside, Mr. Pickwick sat down on the rush-bottomed 
 chair, and leisurely divested himself of his shoes and gaiters. He then took 
 off and folded up, his coat, waistcoat, and neck-cloth, and slowly drawing 
 on his tasseled night-cap, secured it firmly on his head, by tying beneath 
 his chin, the strings which be always had attached to that article of 
 dress. It was at this moment that the absurdity of his recent bewilder-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 233 
 
 Kient struck upon his mind ; and throwing- himself back in the rush- 
 bottomed chair, Mr. Pickwick laughed to himself so heartily, that it 
 would have been quite delightful to any man of well -constituted mind 
 to have watched the smiles which expanded his amiable features as they 
 shone forth, from beneath the night-cap. 
 
 " It is the best idea," said Mr. Pickwick to himself, smiling till he 
 almost cracked the night-cap strings " It is the best idea, my losing 
 myself in this place, and wandering about those staircases, that I ever 
 heard of. Droll, droll, very droll." Here Mr. Pickwick smiled again, 
 a broader smile than before, and was about to continue the process of 
 undressing, in the best possible humour, when he was suddenly stopped 
 by a most unexpected interruption; to wit, the entrance into the room 
 of some person with a candle, who, after locking the door, advanced to- 
 the dressing table, and set down the light upon it. 
 
 The smile that played on Mr. Pickwick's features, was instanta- 
 neously lost in a look of the most unbounded and wonder-stricken sur- 
 prise. The person, whoever it was, had come in so suddenly and with 
 so little noise, that Mr. Pickwick had had no time to call out, or oppose 
 their entrance. Who could it be? A robber? Some evil-minded 
 person who had seen him come up stairs with a handsome watch in his 
 hand, perhaps. What was he to do ! 
 
 The only way in which Mr. Pickwick could catch a glimpse of his 
 mysterious visiter with the least danger of being seen himself, was by 
 creeping on to the bed, and peeping out from between the curtains 
 on the opposite side. To this manoeuvre he accordingly resorted. 
 Keeping the curtains carefully closed with his hand, so that nothing 
 more of him could be seen than his face and night-cap, and putting on. 
 his spectacles, he mustered up courage, and looked out. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick almost fainted with horror and dismay. Standing before 
 the dressing glass, was a middle-aged lady in yellow curl-papers, busily 
 engaged in brushing what ladies call their " back hair." However 
 the unconscious middle-aged lady came into that room, it was quite clear 
 that she contemplated remaining there for the night ; for she had 
 brought a rushlight and shade with her, which, with praiseworthy pre- 
 caution against fire, she had stationed in a basin on the floor, where it 
 was glimmering away, like a gigantic lighthouse, in a particularly small 
 piece of water. 
 
 " Bless my soul," thought Mr. Pickwick, " what a dreadful thing !" 
 
 " Hem ! " said the lady ; and in went Mr. Pickwick's head with auto- 
 maton-like rapidity. 
 
 " I never met with anything so awful as this," thought poor Mr. 
 Pickwick, the cold perspiration starting in drops upon his nightcap. 
 " Never. This is fearful." 
 
 It was quite impossible to resist the urgent desire to see what was 
 going forward. So out went Mr. Pickwick's head again. The prospect 
 was worse than before. The middle-aged lady had finished arranging 
 her hair; had carefully enveloped it, in a muslin night-cap with a small 
 plaited border, and was gazing pensively on the fire. 
 
 " This matter is growing alarming" reasoned Mr. Pickwick with 
 himself. " I can't allow things to go on in this way. By the self-pos-
 
 234 POSTHUMOUS PAPEgS OF 
 
 session of that lady, it's clear to me that I must have come into the 
 wrong room. If I call out, she'll alarm the house, but if I remain here 
 the consequences will be still more frightful." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, it is quite unnecessary to say, was one of the most 
 modest and delicate-minded of mortals. The very idea of exhibiting 
 his night-cap to a lady, overpowered him, but he had tied those con- 
 founded strings in a knot, and do what he would, he couldn't get it off. 
 The disclosure must be made. There was only one other way of doing 
 it. He shrunk behind the curtains, and called out very loudly 
 
 Ha hum." 
 
 That the lady started at this unexpected sound was evident, by her 
 falling up against the rush -light shade ; that she persuaded herself it 
 must have been the effect of imagination was equally clear, for when 
 Mr. Pickwick, under the impression that she had fainted away, stone- 
 dead from fright, ventured to peep out again, she was gazing pensively 
 on the fire as before. 
 
 rt Most extraordinary female this," thought Mr. Pickwick, popping 
 in again. " Ha hum." 
 
 These last sounds, so like those in which, as legends inform us, the 
 ferocious giant Blunderbore was in the habit of expressing his opinion 
 that it was time to lay the cloth, were too distinctly audible, to be again 
 mistaken for the workings of fancy. 
 
 " Gracious Heaven !" said the middle-aged lady, " what's that!" 
 
 " It's it's only a gentleman, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick from 
 behind the curtains. 
 
 " A gentleman ! " said the lady with a terrific scream. 
 
 " It's all over," thought Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " A strange man !" shrieked the lady. Another instant, and the 
 house would be alarmed. Her garments rustled as she rushed towards 
 the door. 
 
 " Ma'am" said Mr. Pickwick, thrusting out his head, in the extre- 
 mity of his desperation, l( Ma'am." 
 
 Now although Mr. Pickwick was not actuated by any definite object 
 in putting out his head, it was instantaneously productive of a good 
 effect. The lady, as we have already stated, was near the door. She 
 must pass it, to reach the staircase, and she would most undoubt- 
 edly have done so, by this time, had not the sudden apparition of Mr. 
 Pickwick's night-cap driven her back, into the remotest corner of the 
 apartment, where she stood, staring wildly at Mr. Pickwick, while Mr. 
 Pickwick in his turn, stared wildly at her. 
 
 " Wretch," said the lady, covering her eyes with her hands, " what 
 do you want here ? " 
 
 " Nothing, Ma'am nothing whatever, Ma'am ;" said Mr. Pickwick 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Nothing !" said the lady, looking up. 
 
 " Nothing, Ma'am, upon my honour," said Mr. Pickwick, nodding 
 his head so energetically, that the tassel of his night-cap danced again. 
 " I am almost ready to sink, Ma'am, beneath the confusion of addressing 
 a lady in my night-cap (here the lady hastily snatched off her's), but I 
 can't get it off, Ma'am (here Mr. Pickwick gave it a tremendous tug,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 235 
 
 in proof of the statement). It is evident to me Ma'am now, that I 
 have mistaken this hed-room for my own. I had not been here five 
 minutes Ma'am, when you suddenly entered it." 
 
 " If this improbable story be really true Sir" said the lady, sobbing 
 violently, " you will leave it instantly." 
 
 " I will Ma'am with the greatest pleasure" replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Instantly, Sir," said the lady. 
 
 " Certainly, Ma'am," interposed Mr. Pickwick very quickly. " Cer- 
 tainly, Ma'am. I I am very sorry, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 making his appearance at the bottom of the bed, " to have been the 
 innocent occasion of this alarm and emotion ; deeply sorry, Ma'am." 
 
 The lady pointed to the door. One excellent quality of Mr. Pick- 
 wick's character was beautifully displayed at this moment, under the 
 most trying circumstances. Although he had hastily put on his hat 
 over his night-cap, after the manner of the old patrol; although he 
 carried his shoes and gaiters in his hand, and his coat and waistcoat 
 over his arm, nothing could subdue his native politeness. 
 
 " I am exceedingly sorry, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, bowing very 
 low. 
 
 " If you are, Sir, you will at once leave the room," said the lady. 
 
 "Immediately, Ma'am; this instant, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick 
 opening the door, and dropping both his shoes with a loud crash in so 
 doing. 
 
 " I trust, Ma'am," resumed Mr. Pickwick, gathering up his shoes, 
 and turning round to bow again. " I trust, Ma'am, that my unblemished 
 character, and the devoted respect I entertain for your sex, will plead 
 as some slight excuse for this" But before Mr. Pickwick could con- 
 clude the sentence, the lady had thrust him into the passage, and 
 locked and bolted the door behind him. 
 
 Whatever grounds of self-congratulation Mr. Pickwick might have, 
 for having escaped so quietly from his late awkward situation, his pre- 
 sent position was by no means enviable. He was alone, in an open 
 passage, in a strange. house, in the middle of the night, half dressed ; it 
 was not to be supposed that he could find his way in perfect darkness 
 to a room which he had been wholly unable to discover with a light, 
 and if he made the slightest noise in his fruitless attempts to do so, he 
 stood every chance of being shot at, and perhaps killed, by some wake- 
 ful traveller. He had no resource but to remain where he was, until 
 daylight appeared. So after groping his way a few paces down the 
 passage, and to his infinite alarm, stumbling over several pairs of boots 
 in so doing, Mr. Pickwick crouched into a little recess in the wall, to 
 wait for morning, as philosophically as he might. 
 
 He was not destined, however, to undergo this additional trial of 
 patience : for he had not been long ensconced in his present conceal- 
 ment when, to his unspeakable horror, a man, bearing a light, appeared 
 at the end of the passage. His horror was suddenly converted into joy, 
 however, when he recognised the form of his faithful attendant. It 
 was indeed Mr. Samuel Weller, who after sitting up thus late, in con- 
 versation with the Boots, who was sitting up for the mail, was now 
 about to retire to rest.
 
 235 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, suddenly appearing before him, " \Vhere 's 
 my bed-room?" 
 
 Mr. Weller stared at his master with the most emphatic surprise ; 
 and it was not until the question had been repeated three several times, 
 that he turned round, and led the way to the long-sought apartment. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick as he got into bed. " I have made one 
 of the most extraordinary mistakes to-night, that ever were heard of." 
 
 " Wery likely, Sir," replied Mr. Weller drily. 
 
 " But of this I am determined, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick ; " that 
 if I were to stop in this house for six months, I would never trust my- 
 self about it, alone, again." 
 
 " That's the wery prudentest resolution as you could come to, Sir," 
 replied Mr. Weller. " You rayther want somebody to look arter you 
 Sir, ven your judgment goes out a wisitin'." 
 
 " What do you mean by that, Sam ? " said Mr. Pickwick. He raised 
 himself in bed, and extended his hand, as if he were about to say some- 
 thing more ; but suddenly checking himself, turned round, and bade his 
 valet " Good night." 
 
 " Good night, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. He paused when he got 
 outside the door shook his head walked on stopped snuffed the 
 candle shook his head again and finally proceeded slowly to his 
 chamber, apparently buried in the profoundest meditation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN WHICH MR. SAMUEL WELLER BEGINS TO DEVOTE HIS ENERGIES 
 TO THE RETURN MATCH BETWEEN HIMSELF AND MR. TROTTER. 
 
 IN a small room in the vicinity of the stable-yard, betimes in the 
 morning, which was ushered in by Mr. Pickwick's adventure with the 
 middle-aged lady in the yellow curl-papers, sat Mr. Weller senior, pre- 
 paring himself for his journey to London. He was sitting in an excel- 
 lent attitude for having his portrait taken; and here it is. 
 
 It is very possible that at some earlier period of his career, Mr. 
 Weller's profile might have presented a bold, and determined outline. 
 His face, however, had expanded under the influence of good living, 
 and a disposition remarkable for resignation ; and its bold fleshy curves 
 had so far extended beyond the limits originally assigned them, that 
 unless you took a full view of his countenance in front, it was difficult 
 to distinguish more than the extreme tip of a very rubicund nose. 
 His chin, from the same cause, had acquired the grave and imposing 
 form which is generally described by prefixing the word " double" to 
 that expressive feature, and his complexion exhibited that peculiarly 
 mottled combination of colours which is only to be seen "in gentlemen 
 of his profession, and underdone roast beef. Round his neck he wore 
 a crimson travelling shawl, which merged into his chin by such imper-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 237 
 
 ceptible gradations, that it was difficult to distinguish the folds of the 
 one, from the folds of the other. Over this, he mounted a long waist- 
 coat of a broad pink-striped pattern, and over that again, a wide- 
 skirted green coat, ornamented with large brass buttons, whereof the 
 two which garnished the waist, were so far apart, that no man had ever 
 beheld them both, at the same time. His hair, which was short, sleek, 
 and black, was just visible beneath the capacious brim of a low-crowned 
 brown hat. His legs were encased in knee-cord breeches, and painted 
 top-boots : and a copper watch-chain terminating in one seal, and a key 
 of the same material, dangled loosely from his capacious waist-band. 
 
 We have said that Mr. Weller was engaged in preparing for his 
 journey to London he was taking sustenance, in fact. On the taole 
 before him, stood a pot of ale, a cold round of beef, and a very respect- 
 able-looking loaf, to each of which he distributed his favours in turn, 
 with the most rigid impartiality. He had just cut a mighty slice from 
 the latter, when the footsteps of somebody entering the room, caused 
 him to raise his head ; and he beheld his son. 
 
 " Mornin' Sammy," said the father. 
 
 The son walked up to the pot of ale, and nodding significantly to his 
 parent, took a long draught by way of reply. 
 
 " Wery good power o' suction, Sammy," said Mr. Weller the elder, 
 looking into the pot, when his first-born had set it down half empty. 
 " You'd ha' made an uncommon fine oyster, Sammy, if you'd been born 
 in that station o' life." 
 
 " Yes, I des-say I should ha' managed to pick up a respectable 
 livin'," replied Sam, applying himself to the cold beef, with considerable 
 vigour. 
 
 " I'm wery sorry, Sammy", said the elder Mr. Weller, shaking up the 
 ale, by describing small circies with the pot, preparatory to drinking. 
 " I'm wery sorry, Sammy, to hear from your lips, as you let yourself be 
 gammoned by that 'ere mulberry man. I always thought, up to three 
 days ago, that the names of Veller and gammon could never come into 
 contract, Sammy never." 
 
 " Always exceptin' the case of a widder, of course," said Sam. 
 
 " Widders, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, slightly changing colour. 
 " Widders are 'ceptions to ev'ry rule. I have heerd how many ord'nary 
 women, one widder's equal to, in pint o' comin' over you. I think it's 
 fi ve-and-twenty, but I don't rightly know vether it an't more." 
 
 " Well ; that's pretty well," said Sam. 
 
 " Besides," continued Mr. Weller, not noticing the interruption, 
 " that's a wery different thing. You know what the counsel said, 
 Sammy, as defended the gen'lem'n as beat his wife with the poker, 
 venever he got jolly. ' And arter all, my Lord,' says he, < it's a amia- 
 ble weakness.' So I says respectin' widders, Sammy, and so you'll say, 
 yen you gets as old as I am." 
 
 " I ought to ha' know'd better, I know," said Sam. 
 
 " Ought to ha' know'd better ! " repeated Mr. Weller, striking the 
 table with his fist. " Ought to ha' know'd belter! why, I know a 
 young 'un as hasn't had half nor quarter your eddication as hasn't
 
 238 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 slept about the markets, no, not six months who'd ha' scorned to be 
 let in, in such a vay ; scorned it, Sammy." In the excitement of feel- 
 ing produced by this agonising reflection, Mr. Weller rang the bell, and 
 ordered an additional pint of ale. 
 
 " Well, it's no use talking about it now," said Sam. " It's over, and 
 can't be helped, and that's one consolation, as they alvays says in Tur- 
 key, ven they cuts the wrong man's head off. It's my innings now, 
 gov'rnor, and as soon as I catches hold o' this here Trotter, I'll 
 have a good 'un." 
 
 " I hope you will, Sammy. I hope you will," returned Mr. Weller. 
 " Here's your health, Sammy, and may you speedily vipe off the dis- 
 gnfce as you've inflicted on the family name." In honour of this toast 
 Mr. Weller imbibed at a draught, at least two-thirds of the newly- 
 arrived pint, and banded it over to his son, to dispose of the remainder, 
 which he instantaneously did. 
 
 " And now, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, consulting the large double- 
 cased silver watch that hung at the end of the copper chain. " Now 
 it's time I was up at the office to get my vay-bill, and see the coach 
 loaded ; for coaches, Sammy, is like guns they requires to be loaded 
 with wery great care afore they go off." 
 
 At this parental and professional joke, Mr. Weller junior smiled a 
 filial smile. His revered parent continued in a solemn tone 
 
 " I'm a goin' to leave you, Samivel my boy, and there's no telling 
 ven I shall see you again. Your mother-in-law may ha' been too much 
 for me, or a thousand things may have happened by the time you next 
 hears any news o' the celebrated Mr. Veller o' the Bell Savage. The 
 family name depends wery much upon you, Samivel, and I hope you'll 
 do wot's right by it. Upon all little pints o' breedin', I know I may 
 trust you as veil as if it was my own self. So I've only this here one 
 little bit of adwice to give you. If ever you gets to up'ards o' fifty, and 
 feels disposed to go a marryin' anybody no matter who jist you 
 shut yourself up in your own room, if you've got one, and pison 
 yourself off hand. Hangin's wulgar, so don't you have nothin' to say 
 to that. Pison yourself, Samivel my boy, pison yourself, and you'll 
 be glad on it arterwards." With these affecting words, Mr Weller 
 looked stedfastly on his son, and turning slowly upon his heel, disap- 
 peared from his sight. 
 
 In the contemplative mood which these words had awakened, Mr. 
 Samuel Weller walked forth from the Great White Horse when his 
 father had left him ; and- bending his steps towards Saint Clement's 
 Church, endeavoured to dissipate his melancholy, by strolling among 
 its ancient precincts. He had loitered about, for some time, when he 
 found himself in a retired spot a kind of court-yard of venerable ap- 
 pearance which he discovered had no other outlet than the turning by 
 which he had entered. He was about retracing his steps, when he was 
 suddenly transfixed to the spot by a sudden appearance ; and the mode 
 and manner of this appearance, we now proceed to relate. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Weller had been staring up, at the old red brick houses ; 
 now and then, in his deep abstraction, bestowing a wink upon some
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 239 
 
 healthy-looking servant girl as she drew up a blind, or threw open a 
 bed- room window, when the green gate of a garden at the bottom of the 
 yard, opened, and a man having emerged therefrom, closed the green 
 gate very carefully after him, and walked briskly towards the very spot 
 where Mr. Weller was standing. 
 
 Now taking this, as an isolated fact, unaccompanied by any attendant 
 circumstances, there was nothing very extraordinary in it, because in 
 many parts of the world, men do come out of gardens, close green gates 
 after them, and even walk briskly away, without attracting any parti- 
 cular share of public observation. It is clear, therefore, that there must 
 have been something in the man, or in his manner, or both, to attract 
 Mr. Weller's particular notice. Whether there was, or not, we must 
 leave the reader to determine, when we have faithfully recounted the 
 behaviour of the individual in question. 
 
 When the man had shut the green gate after him, he ^walked, as we 
 have said twice already, with a brisk pace up the court-yard ; but he no 
 sconer caught sight of Mr. Weller, than he faltered, and stopped, as 
 if uncertain for the moment what course to adopt. As the green gate 
 was closed behind him, and there was no other outlet but the one in 
 front, however, he was not long in perceiving that he must pass Mr. 
 Samuel Weller to get away. He therefore resumed his brisk pace, and 
 advanced, staring straight before him. The most extraordinary thing 
 about the man was, that he was contorting his face into the most fear- 
 ful and astonishing grimaces that ever were beheld. Nature's handy- 
 work never was disguised with such extraordinary artificial carving, as 
 the man had overlaid his countenance with, in one moment. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Weller to himself, as the man approached. 
 " This is wery odd. I could ha' swore it was him." 
 
 Up came the man, and his face became more frightfully distorted 
 than ever, as he drew nearer. 
 
 " I could take my oath to that 'ere black hair, and mulberry suit," 
 said Mr. Weller ; " only I never see such a face as that, afore." 
 
 As Mr. Weller said this, the man's features assumed an unearthly 
 twinge, perfectly hideous. He was obliged to pass very near Sam 
 however, and the scrutinising glance of that gentleman enabled him to 
 detect, under all these appalling twists of feature, something too like 
 the small eyes of Mr. Job Trotter, to be easily mistaken. 
 
 " Hallo, you Sir," shouted Sam, fiercely. 
 
 The stranger stopped, 
 
 " Hallo," repeated Sam, still more gruffly. 
 
 The man with the horrible face, looked, with the greatest surprise, up 
 the court, and down the court, and in at the windows of the houses 
 everywhere but at Sam Weller and took another step forward, when 
 he was brought to again, by another shout. 
 
 " Hallo, you Sir" said Sam, for the third time. 
 
 There was no pretending to mistake where the voice came from 
 now, so the stranger, having no other resource, at last looked Sam 
 Weller full in the face. 
 
 " It won't do, Job Trotter," said Sam. " Come, none o' that 'ere
 
 240 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 nonsense. You ain't so wery 'ansorae that you can afford to throw 
 avay many o' your good looks. Bring them 'ere eyes o' your'n back 
 into their proper places, or I'll knock 'em out of your head. Dy'e 
 hear ? " 
 
 As Mr. Weller appeared fully disposed to act up to the spirit of this 
 address, Mr. Trotter gradually allowed his face to resume its natural 
 expression ; and then giving a start of joy, exclaimed, " What do I 
 see? Mr. Walker!" 
 
 "Ah,'' replied Sam " You're wery glad to see me, ain't you?" 
 
 "Glad!" exclaimed Job Trotter" Oh, Mr. Walker, if you had 
 but known how I have looked forward to this meeting ! It is too 
 much, Mr. Walker; I cannot bear it, indeed I cannot." And with 
 these words, Mr. Trotter burst into a regular inundation of tears, and, 
 flinging his arms round those of Mr. Weller, embraced him closely, in 
 an ecstacy of joy. 
 
 " Get off," cried Sam, highly indignant at this process, and vainly 
 endeavouring to extricate himself from the grasp of his enthusiastic 
 acquaintance " Get off, I tell you. W T hat are you crying over me for, 
 you portable ingine ?" 
 
 " Because I am so glad to see you," replied Job Trotter, gradually 
 releasing Mr. Weller, as the first symptoms of his pugnacity disappeared. 
 Oh, Mr. Walker, this is too much." 
 
 " Too much ! " echoed Sam, " I think it is too much rayther. Now 
 what have you got to say to me, eh?" 
 
 Mr. Trotter made no reply ; for the little pink pocket handkerchief 
 was in full force. 
 
 " What have you got to say to me, afore I knock your head off?" 
 repeated Mr. Weller, in a threatening manner. 
 
 " Eh !:' said Mr. Trotter, with a look of virtuous surprise. 
 
 " \Vhat have you got to say to me?" 
 
 I, Mr. Walker !" 
 
 " Don't call me Valker ; my name's Veller ; you know that veil 
 enough. What have you got to say to me ?" 
 
 ' Bless you, Mr. Walker Weller I mean a great many things, if 
 you will come away somewhere, where we can talk comfortably. If you 
 knew how I have looked for you, Mr. Weller " 
 
 " Wery hard, indeed, I s'pose?" said Sam, drily. 
 
 " Very, very, Sir," replied Mr. Trotter, without moving a muscle of 
 his face. " But shake hands, Mr. Weller." 
 
 Sam eyed his companion for a few seconds, and then, as if actuated by 
 a sudden impulse, complied with his request. 
 
 " How," said Job Trotter, as they walked away " How is your dear, 
 good master ? Oh, he is a worthy gentleman, Mr. W'eller. I hope he 
 didn't catch cold, that dreadful night, Sir." 
 
 There was a momentary look of deep slyness in Job Trotter's eye, 
 as he said this, which ran a thrill through Mr. Waller's clenched fist 
 as he burnt with a desire to make a demonstration on his ribs. Sam 
 constrained himself, however, and replied that his master was extremely 
 well.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 241 
 
 Oh, I am so glad," replied Mr. Trotter, is he here?" 
 
 " Is your'n ? " asked Sam, by way of reply. 
 
 " Oh, yes, he is here, and I grieve to say, Mr. Weller, he is going 
 on, worse than ever." 
 
 "Ah, ah?" said Sam. 
 
 " Oh, shocking terrible." 
 
 " At a boarding-school ? " said Sam. 
 
 " No, not at a boarding-school," replied Job Trotter, with the same 
 sly look which Sam had noticed before ' Not at a boarding-school." 
 
 " At the house with the green gate ? " inquired Sam, eyeing bis 
 companion closely. 
 
 " No, no oh, not there," replied Job, with a quickness very unusual 
 to him, " not there." 
 
 " What, was you a doin' there ?" asked Sam, with a sharp glance 
 "Got inside the gate by accident, perhaps?" 
 
 " Why, Mr. Weller," replied Job, " I don't mind telling you my 
 little secrets, because you know we took such a fancy for each other 
 when we first met. You recollect how pleasant we were that 
 morning ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," said Sam, impatiently " I remember. Well." 
 
 " Well," replied Job, speaking with great precision, and in the low 
 tone of a man who communicates an important secret "In that house 
 with the green gate, Mr. Weller, they keep a good many servants." 
 
 " So I should think, from the look on it," interposed Sam. 
 
 " Yes," continued Mr. Trotter, " and one of them is a cook, who 
 has saved up a little money, Mr. Weller, and is desirous, if she can 
 establish herself in life, to open a little shop in the chandlery way, 
 you see." 
 
 Yes." 
 
 Yes, Mr. Weller. Well, Sir, I met her at a chapel that I go to- 
 ft very neat little chapel in this town, Mr. W r eller, where they sing the 
 number four collection of hymns, which I generally carry about with 
 me, in a little book, which you may perhaps have seen in my hand 
 and I got a little intimate with her, Mr. Weller, and from that, an 
 acquaintance sprung up between us, and I may venture to say, Mr. 
 Weller, that I am to be the chandler." 
 
 " Ah, and a wery amiable chandler you'll make," replied Sam, eye- 
 ing Job with a side look of intense dislike. 
 
 " The great advantage of this, Mr. Weller," continued Job, his eyes 
 filling with tears as he spoke, " will be, that I shall be able to leave 
 my present disgraceful service with that bad man, and to devote myself 
 to a better and more virtuous life more like the way in which I was 
 brought up, Mr. Weller." 
 
 " You must ha' been wery nicely brought up," said Sam. 
 
 " Oh, very, Mr. Weller, very," replied Job ; and at the recollection 
 of the purity of his youthful days, Mr. Trotter pulled forth the pink 
 handkerchief, and wept copiously. 
 
 " You must ha' been an uncommon nice boy, to go to school vith," 
 said Sam.
 
 242 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I was Sir," replied Job, heaving a deep sigh. " I was the idol of 
 the place." 
 
 " Ah," said Sara " I don't wonder at it. What a comfort you must 
 ha' been to your blessed mother." 
 
 At these words, Mr. Job Trotter inserted an end of the pink 
 handkerchief into the corner of each eye, one after the other, and began 
 to weep copiously. 
 
 " Vhat's the matter vith the man." said Sam indignantly. " Chelsea 
 waterworks is nothin' to you. What are you melting vith now the 
 consciousness o* willainy ? " 
 
 " I cannot keep my feelings down, Mr. Weller," said Job, after a 
 short pause. " To think that my master should have suspected the 
 conversation I had with yours, and so dragged me away in a post-chaise, 
 and after persuading the sweet young lady to say she knew nothing of 
 him, and bribing the school-mistress to do the same, deserted her for a 
 better speculation, oh ! Mr. Weller, it makes me shudder." 
 
 " Oh, that was the vay, was it?" said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " To be sure it was," replied Job. 
 
 " Veil,'' said Sam, as they had now arrived near the Hotel, " I vant 
 to have a little bit o' talk with you, Job; so if you're not partickler 
 engaged, I should like to see you at the Great White Horse to-night, 
 somewheres about eight o'clock." 
 
 " I shall be sure to come," said Job. 
 
 " Yes, you'd better," replied Sam, with a very meaning look, " or 
 else I shall perhaps be askin' arter you, at the other side of the green 
 gate, and then I might cut you out, you know." 
 
 " I shall be sure to be with you," said Mr. Trotter ; and wringing 
 Sam's hand with the utmost fervour, he walked away. 
 
 " Take care, Job Trotter, take care," said Sara, looking after him, 
 " or I shall be one too many for you this time, I shall, indeed." 
 Having uttered this soliloquy, and looked after Job till he was to be 
 seen no more, Mr. Weller made the best of his way to his master's bed- 
 room. 
 
 " It's all in training, Sir," said Sam. 
 
 " W 7 hat's in training, Sam?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I have found 'em out, Sir," said Sam. 
 
 " Found out who?" 
 
 " That 'ere queer customer, and the melan-cholly chap with the 
 black hair." 
 
 " Impossible, Sam!" said Mr. Pickwick, with the greatest energy 
 " Where are they, Sam ; where are they ?" 
 
 " Hush, hush ! " replied Mr. Weller ; and as he assisted Mr. Pickwick 
 to dress, he detailed the plan of action on which he proposed to enter. 
 
 " But when is this to be done, Sam ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " All in good time, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 Whether it was done in good time, or not, will be seen hereafter.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 243 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WHEREIN MR. PETER MAGNUS GROWS JEALOUS, AND THE MIDDLE- 
 AGED LADY APPREHENSIVE, WHICH BRINGS THE PICKWICKIANS 
 WITHIN THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Pickwick descended to the room in which he and Mr. 
 Peter Magnus had spent the preceding evening, he found that gentle- 
 man with the major part of the contents of the two bags, the leathern 
 hat-box, and the brown-paper parcel, displayed to all possible advantage 
 on his person, while he himself was pacing up and down the room in a 
 state of the utmost excitement and agitation. 
 
 " Good morning, Sir," said Mr. Peter Magnus " What do you 
 think of this, Sir?" 
 
 " Very effective indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick, surveying the gar- 
 ments of Mr. Peter Magnus with a good-natured smile. 
 
 " Yes, I think it '11 do/' said Mr. Magnus. " Mr. Pickwick, Sir, I 
 have sent up my card." 
 
 " Have you?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes ; and the waiter brought back word, that she would see me at 
 eleven at eleven, Sir; it only wants a quarter now." 
 
 " Very near the time," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes, it is rather near," replied Mr. Magnus, " rather too near to 
 be pleasant eh ! Mr. Pickwick, Sir ?" 
 
 " Confidence is a great thing in these cases," observed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I believe it is, Sir," said Mr. Peter Magnus. " I am very con- 
 fident, Sir. Really,' Mr. Pickwick, I do not see why a man should feel 
 any fear in such a case as. this, Sir. What is it, Sir? There's nothing 
 to be ashamed of ; it's a matter of mutual accommodation, nothing 
 more. Husband on one side, wife on the other. That's my view of 
 the matter, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " It is a very philosophical one," replied Mr. Pickwick. " But 
 breakfast is waiting, Mr. Magnus. Come." 
 
 Down they sat to breakfast, but it was evident, notwithstanding the 
 boasting of Mr. Peter Magnus, that he laboured under a very consider- 
 able degree of nervousness, of which loss of appetite, a propensity to 
 upset the tea-things, a spectral attempt at drollery, and an irresistible 
 inclination to look at the clock every other second, were among the 
 principal symptoms. 
 
 " He he he," tittered Mr. Magnus, affecting cheerfulness, and 
 gasping with agitation. " It only wants two minutes, Mr. Pickwick. 
 Am I pale, Sir?" 
 
 " Not very," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 There was a brief pause. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Pickwick ; but have you ever done this 
 sort of thing in your time ? " said Mr. Magnus, 
 u
 
 344 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " You mean proposing ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Never," said Mr. Pickwick, with great energy, " never." 
 " You have no idea, then, how it's best to begin ?" said Mr. Magnus. 
 " Why," said Mr. Pickwick, " I may have formed some ideas upon 
 the subject, but, as I have never submitted them to the test of expe- 
 rience, I should be sorry if you were induced to regulate your proceedings 
 })y them." 
 
 " I should feel very much obliged to you, for any advice,'Sir," said 
 Mr. Magnus, taking another look at the clock, the hand of which was 
 verging on the five minutes past. 
 
 " Well, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, with the profound solemnity with 
 which that great man could, when he pleased, render his remarks so 
 deeply impressive " I should commence, Sir, with a tribute to the 
 lady's beauty and excellent qualities ; from them, Sir, I should diverge 
 to my own un worthiness." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Magnus. 
 
 " Unworthiness for her only, mind, Sir," resumed Mr. Pickwick ; 
 " for to shew that I was not wholly unworthy, Sir, I shpuld take a brief 
 review of my past life, and present condition. I should argue, by analogy, 
 that to anybody else, I must be a very desirable obje.ct. I should then 
 expatiate on the warmth of my love, and the depth of my devotion. 
 Perhaps I might then be tempted to seize her hand." 
 
 " Yes, I see," said Mr. Magnus; "that would be a very great point." 
 " I should then, Sir," continued Mr. Pickwick, growing warmer as 
 the subject presented itself in more glowing colours before him " I 
 should then, Sir, come to the plain and simple question, ' Will you have 
 me? ' I think I am justified in assuming that upon this, she would turn 
 away her head." 
 
 " You think that may be taken for granted?" said Mr. Magnus; 
 " because, if she did not do that at the right place, it would be em- 
 barrassing." 
 
 " I think she would," said Mr. Pickwick. " Upon this, Sir,''! 
 should squeeze her hand, and I think I think, Mr. Magnus that after 
 I had done that, supposing there was no refusal, I should gently draw 
 away the handkerchief, which my slight knowledge of human nature 
 leads me to suppose the lady would be applying to her eyes at the 
 moment, and steal a respectful kiss. I think I should kiss her, Mr. 
 Magnus ; and at this particular point, I am decidedly of opinion that 
 if the lady were going to take me at all, she would murmur into my ears 
 a bashful acceptance." 
 
 Mr. Magnus started : gazed on Mr. Pickwick's intelligent face, for 
 a short time in silence, and then (the dial pointing to the ten 
 minutes pust) shook him warmly by the hand, and rushed desperately 
 from the room. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had taken a few strides to and fro ; and the small hand 
 of the clock following the latter part of his example, had arrived at the 
 figure which indicates the half hour, when the door suddenly opened. 
 He turned round to greet Mr. Peter Magnus, and encountered in his
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 245 
 
 stead the joyous face of Mr. Tupman, the serene countenance of Mr. 
 Winkle, and the intellectual lineaments of Mr. Snodgrase. 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick greeted them, Mr. Peter Magnus tripped into the 
 room. 
 
 " My friends, the gentleman I was speaking of, Mr. Magnus," said 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Your servant, gentlemen," said Mr. Magnus, evidently in a high 
 state of excitement ; " Mr. Pickwick, allow me to speak to you, one 
 moment, Sir." 
 
 As he said this, Mr. Magnus harnessed his fore-finger to Mr. Pick- 
 wick's button-hole, and, drawing him into a window recess, said 
 
 "Congratulate me, Mr. Pickwick; I followed your advice to the very 
 letter." 
 
 " And it was all correct, was it ?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It was, Sir could not possibly have been better," replied Mr. 
 Magnus ; " Mr. Pickwick, she is mine." 
 
 " I congratulate you, with all my heart," replied Mr. Pickwick, 
 warmly shaking his new friend by the hand, 
 
 " You must see her, Sir," said Mr. Magnus ; ie this Way, if you 
 please. Excuse us for one instant, gentlemen." And hurrying on in 
 this way, Mr. Peter Magnus drew Mr. Pickwick from the room. He 
 paused at the next door in the passage, and tapped gently thereat. 
 
 " Come in," said a female voice. And in they went. 
 
 " Miss Witherfield," said Mr. Magnus, " Allow me to introduce my 
 very particular friend, Mr. Pickwick. Mr. Pickwick, I beg to make 
 you known to Miss Witherfield." 
 
 The lady was at the upper end of the room, and as Mr. Pickwick 
 bowed, he took his spectacles from his waistcoat pocket, and put them 
 on, a process which he had no sooner gone through, than, uttering an 
 exclamation of surprise, Mr. Pickwick retreated several paces, and the 
 lady, with a half-suppressed scream, hid her face in her hands, and 
 dropped into a chair, whereupon Mr. Peter Magnus was struck motion- 
 less on the spot, and gazed from one to the other, with a countenance 
 expressive of the extremities of horror and surprise. 
 
 This certainly was, to all appearance, very upaccountable behaviour, 
 but the fact was, that Mr. Pickwick no sooner put on his spectacles, 
 than he at once recognised in the future Mrs. Magnus the lady into 
 whose room he had so unwarrantably intruded on the previous night ; 
 and the spectacles had no sooner crossed Mr. Pickwick's nose, than the 
 lady at once identified the countenance which she had seen surrounded 
 by all the horrors of a night-cap. So the lady screamed, and Mr. Pick- 
 wick started. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick !" exclaimed Mr. Magnus, lost in astonishment, 
 " What is the meaning of this, Sir ? What is the meaning of it, Sir? " 
 added Mr. Magnus, in a threatening, and a louder tone. 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, somewhat indignant at the very sudden 
 manner in which Mr. Peter Magnus had conjugated himself into the 
 imperative mood, " I decline answering that question." 
 
 " You decline it, Sir?" said Mr. Magnus. 
 u2
 
 246 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I do, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick ; " I object to saying anything 
 which may compromise that lady, or awaken unpleasant recollections 
 in her breast, without her consent and permission." 
 
 " Miss Witherfield," said Mr. Peter Magnus, " do you, know this 
 person ? " 
 
 " Know him !" repeated the middle-aged lady, hesitating. 
 
 " Yes, know him, Ma'am, I said know him," replied Mr. Magnus, 
 with ferocity. 
 
 " I have seen him," replied the middle-aged Jady. 
 
 " Where ?" inquired Mr. Magnus, " where ?" 
 
 " That," said the middle-aged lady, rising from her seat, and averting 
 her head, " that I would not reveal for worlds." 
 
 " I understand you, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, " and respect your 
 delicacy ; it shall never be revealed by me, depend upon it." 
 
 " Upon my word, Ma'am," said Mr. Magnus, " considering the 
 situation in which I am placed with regard to yourself, you carry this 
 matter off with tolerable coolness tolerable coolness, Ma'am." 
 
 " Cruel Mr. Magnus," said the middle-aged Jady ; and here she wept 
 very copiously indeed. 
 
 " Address your observations to me, Sir," interposed Mr. Pickwick ; 
 " I alone am to blame, if anybody be." 
 
 " Oh ! you alone are to blame, are you, Sir ? " said Mr. Magnus ; 
 " I I see through this, Sir. You repent of your determination now, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " My determination !" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Your determination, Sir. Oh ! don't stare at me, Sir," said Mr. 
 Magnus ; " I recollect your w : ords last night, Sir. You came down 
 here, Sir, to expose the treachery and falsehood of an individual on 
 whose truth and honour you had placed implicit reliance eh ? " Here 
 Mr. Peter Magnus indulged in a prolonged sneer; and taking off his 
 green spectacles which he probably found superfluous in. his fit of 
 jealousy rolled his little eyes about, in a manner which was frightful 
 to behold. 
 
 " Eh?" said Mr. Magnus ; and then he repeated the sneer with in- 
 creased effect. " But you shall answer it, Sir." 
 
 " Answer what ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Never mind, Sir," replied Mr. Magnus, striding up and down the 
 room " Never mind." 
 
 There must be something very comprehensive in this phrase of 
 "Nevermind," for we do not recollect to have ever witnessed a quarrel 
 in the street, at a theatre, public room, or elsewhere, in which it has not 
 been the standard reply to all belligerent inquiries. " Do you call your- 
 self a gentleman, Sir?" " Never mind, Sir." "Did I offer to say 
 anything to the young woman, Sir?" " Never mind, Sir." " Do you 
 want your head knocked up against that wall, Sir ? " " Never mind, Sir." 
 It is observable, too, that there would appear to be some hidden taunt 
 in this universal " Never mind," which rouses more indignation in the 
 bosom of the individual addressed, than the most lavish abuse could 
 possiblv awaken.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 247 
 
 We do not mean to assert that the application of this brevity to 
 himself, struck exactly that indignation to Mr. Pickwick's soul, which 
 it would infallibly have roused in a vulgar breast. We merely record 
 the fact that Mr. Pick\vick opened the room door, and abruptly called 
 out, " Tupman, come here." 
 
 Mr. Tupman immediately presented himself, with a look of very 
 considerable surprise. 
 
 " Tupman," said Mr. Pickwick, " a secret of some delicacy, in which 
 that lady is concerned, is the cause of a difference which has just arisen 
 between this gentleman and myself. When I assure him, in your pre- 
 sence, that it has no relation to himself, and is not in any way connected 
 with his affairs, I need hardly beg you to take notice that if he continues 
 to dispute it, he expresses a doubt of my veracity, which I shall consider 
 extremely insulting," As Mr. Pickwick said this, he looked encyclo- 
 paedias at Mr. Peter Magnus. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's upright and honourable bearing, coupled with that 
 force and energy of speech which so eminently distinguished him, would 
 have carried conviction to any reasonable mind ; but unfortunately at 
 that particular moment, the mind of Mr. Peter Magnus was in any- 
 thing but reasonable order. Consequently, instead of receiving Mr. 
 Pickwick's explanation as he ovght to have done, he forthwith pro- 
 ceeded to work himself into a red-hot scorching consuming passion, and 
 to talk about what was due to his own feelings, and all that sort of 
 thing, adding force to bis declamation by striding to and fro, and pulling 
 his hair, amusements which he would vary occasionally, by shaking his 
 fist in Mr. Pickwick's philanthropic countenance. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, in his turn, conscious of his own innocence and recti- 
 tude, and irritated by having unfortunately involved the middle-aged 
 lady in such an unpleasant affair, was not so quietly disposed as was his 
 wont. The consequence was, that words ran high, and voices higher, 
 and at length Mr. Magnus told Mr. Pickwick he should' hear from him, 
 to which Mr. Pickwick replied with laudable politeness, that the sooner 
 he heard from him the better ; whereupon the middle-aged lady rushed 
 in terror from the room, out of which Mr. Tupman dragged Mr. Pick- 
 wick, leaving Mr. Peter Magnus to himself and meditation. 
 
 If the middle-aged lady had mingled much with the busy world, or 
 profited at all, by the manners and customs of those who make the 
 laws and set the fashions, she would have known that this sort of 
 ferocity is just the most harmless thing in nature ; but as she had lived 
 for the most part in the country, and never read the parliamentary 
 debates, she was little versed in these particular refinements of civilised 
 life. Accordingly, when she had gained her bed-chamber, bolted herself 
 in, and begun to meditate on the scene she had just witnessed, the most 
 terrific pictures of slaughter and destruction presented themselves to 
 her imagination ; among which, a full-length portrait of Mr. Peter 
 Magnus borne home by four men, with the embellishment of a whole 
 barrel-full of bullets in his left side, was among the very least. The 
 more the middle-aged lady meditated, the more terrified she became ; 
 and at length she determined to repair to the house of the principal
 
 248 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 magistrate of the town, and request him to secure the persons of Mr. 
 Pickwick and Mr. Tunman, without delay. 
 
 To this decision, the middle-aged lady was impelled by a variety of 
 considerations, the chief of which, was the incontestible proof it would 
 afford of her devotion to Mr. Peter Magnus, and her anxiety for his 
 safety. She was too well acquainted with his jealous temperament to 
 venture the slightest allusion to the real cause of her agitation on 
 beholding Mr. Pickwick ; and she trusted to her own influence and 
 power of persuasion with the little man, to quell his boisterous jealousy, 
 supposing that Mr. Pickwick were removed, and no fresh quarrel could 
 arise. Filled with these reflections, the middle-aged lady arrayed 
 herself in her bonnet and shawl, and repaired to the Mayor's dwelling 
 straightway. 
 
 Now George Nupkins, Esquire, the principal magistrate aforesaid, was 
 about as grand a personage as the fastest walker would find out, between 
 sunrise and sunset, on the twenty-first of June, which being, according 
 to the almanacs, the longest day in the whole year, would naturally 
 afford him the longest period for his search. On this particular morning, 
 Mr. Nupkins was in a state of the utmost excitement and irritation, for 
 there had been a rebellion in the town ; all the day-scholars at the 
 largest day-school, had conspired to break the windows of an obnoxious 
 apple- seller, and had hooted the beadle, and pelted the constabulary an 
 elderly gentleman in top-boots, who had been called out to repress the 
 tumult ; and had been a peace-officer, man and boy, for half a century at 
 least. And Mr. Nupkins was sitting in his easy chair, frowning with 
 majesty, and boiling with rage, when a lady was announced on pressing, 
 private, and particular business. Mr. Xupkins looked calmly terrible, 
 and commanded that the lady should be shown in, which command, 
 like all the mandates of emperors, and magistrates, and other great 
 potentates of the earth, was forthwith obeyed ; and Miss Witherfield, 
 interestingly agitated, was ushered in accordingly. 
 
 " Muzzle," said the Magistrate. 
 
 Muzzle was an under-sized footman, with a long body and short legs. 
 
 " Muzzle." 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 " Place a chair and leave the room." 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 " Now, Ma'am, will you state your business? " said the Magistrate. 
 
 " It is of a very painful kind, Sir," said Miss Witherfield. 
 
 " Very likely, Ma'am," said the'Magistrate. " Compose your feelings, 
 Ma'am." Here Mr. Nupkins looked benignant. " And then tell me 
 what leg-al business brings you here, Ma'am." Here the Magistrate 
 triumphed over the man ; and he looked stern again. 
 
 ' It is very distressing to me, Sir, to give this information," said Miss 
 Witherfield, " but I fear a duel is going to be fought here." 
 
 " Here, Ma'am," said the Magistrate. " Where, Ma'ain ?" 
 
 "In Ipswich." 
 
 " In Ipswich, Ma'am a duel in Ipswich," said the Magistrate, per- 
 fectly aghast at the notion. " Impossible, Ma'am ; nothing of the kind
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 249 
 
 can be contemplated in this town, I am persuaded. Bless my soul, Ma'am, 
 are you aware of the activity of our local magistracy ? Do you happen 
 to have heard, Ma'am, that I rushed into a prize-ring- on the fourth of 
 May last, attended by only sixty special constables ; and, at the hazard 
 of falling- a sacrifice to the angry passions of an infuriated multitude, 
 prohibited a pugilistic contest between the Middlesex Dumpling, and 
 the Suffolk Bantam? A duel in Ipswich, Ma'am ! I don't think I 
 do not think," said the Magistrate, reasoning with himself, " that any 
 two men can have had the hardihood to plan such a breach of the 
 peace, in this town." 
 
 " My information is unfortunately but too correct," said the middle- 
 aged lady, " I was present at the quarrel." 
 
 " It's a most extraordinary thing," said the astounded Magis- 
 trate. " Muzzle." 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 " Send Mr. Jinks here, directly instantly." 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 Muzzle retired ; and a pale, sharp-nosed, half-fed, shabbily-clad clerk, 
 of middle age, entered the room. 
 
 " Mr. Jinks," said the Magistrate " Mr. Jinks." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Jinks. 
 
 " This lady, Mr. Jinks, has come here, to give information of an 
 intended duel in this town." 
 
 Mr. Jinks,not exactly knowing what to do, smiled adependent's smile. 
 
 " What are you laughing at, Mr. Jinks ? " said the Magistrate. 
 
 Mr. Jinks looked serious, instantly. 
 
 *' Mr. Jinks," said the Magistrate, " you're a fool, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Jinks looked humbly at the great man, and bit the top of his pen. 
 
 " You may see something very comical in this information, Sir; but 
 I can tell you this, Mr. Jinks, that you have very little to laugh at," 
 said the Magistrate. 
 
 The hungry-looking Jinks sighed, as if he were quite aware of the 
 fact of his having very little indeed, to be merry about ; and, being 
 ordered to take the lady's information, shambled to a seat, and proceeded 
 to write it down. 
 
 " This man Pickwick is the principal, I understand," said the Magis- 
 trate, when the statement was finished. 
 
 " He is," said the middle-aged lady. 
 
 " And the other rioter what's his name, Mr. Jinks ? " 
 
 " Tupman, Sir." 
 
 " Tupman is the second ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " The other principal you say, has absconded, Ma'am ? " 
 " Yes," replied Miss Wifherfleld, with a short cough. 
 " Very well," said the Magistrate. " These are two cut-throats from 
 London, who have come down here, to destroy his Majesty's population, 
 thinking that at this distance from the capital, the arm of the law is weak 
 and paralysed. They shall be made an example of. Draw up the 
 warrants, Mr. Jinks. Muzzle."
 
 250 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 " Is Gruramer down stairs ? " 
 
 " Yes, your worship. 5 ' 
 
 '* Send him up." 
 
 The obsequious Muzzle retired, and presently returned, introducing 
 the elderly gentleman in the top-boots, who was chiefly remarkable for 
 a bottle nose, a hoarse voice, a snuff-coloured surtout, and a wander- 
 ing eye. 
 
 " Grummer," said the Magistrate. 
 
 " Your wash-up." 
 
 " Is the town quiet now ? " 
 
 " Pretty well, your wash-up," replied Grummer. " Pop'lar feeling 
 has in a measure subsided, consekens o' the boys having dispersed to 
 cricket." 
 
 " Nothing but vigorous measures will do, in these times, Grummer," 
 said the Magistrate, in a determined manner. " If the authority of the 
 king's officers is set at nought, we must have the riot act read. If the 
 civil power cannot protect these windows, Grummer, the military must 
 protect the civil po\ver, and the windows too. I believe that is a maxim 
 of the constitution, Mr. Jinks ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Sir," said Jinks. 
 
 " Very good," said the Magistrate, signing the warrants. " Grummer, 
 you will bring these persons before me, this afternoon. You will find 
 them at the Great White Horse. You recollect the case of the Mid- 
 dlesex Dumpling and the Suffolk Bantam, Grummer? " 
 
 Mr. Grummer intimated, by a retrospective shake of the head, that 
 he should never forget it as indeed it was not likely he would, so long 
 as it continued to be cited daily. 
 
 " This is even more unconstitutional," said the Magistrate ; " this is 
 even a greater breach of the peace, and a grosser infringement of his 
 Majesty's prerogative. I believe duelling is one of His Majesty's 
 most undoubted prerogatives, Mr. Jinks ? " 
 
 44 Expressly stipulated in Magna Charta, Sir," said Mr. Jinks. 
 
 " One of the brightest jewels in the British crown, wrung from his 
 Majesty by the Political Union of Barons, I believe, Mr. Jinks ? " said 
 the Magistrate. 
 
 " Just so, Sir," replied Mr. Jinks. 
 
 " Verv well," said the Magistrate, drawing himself up proudly, " it 
 shall not be violated in this portion of his dominions. Grummer, pro- 
 cure assistance, and execute these warrants with as little delay as possible. 
 Muzzle." 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 " Show the lady out." 
 
 Miss Witherfield retired, deeply impressed with the Magistrate's 
 learning and research ; Mr. Nupkins retired to lunch ; Mr. .links retired 
 within himself that being the only retirement he had, except the sofa- 
 bedstead in the small parlour which was occupied by his landlady's 
 family in the day-time and Mr. Grummer retired, to wash out, by his 
 mode of discharging his present commission, the insult which had been
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 251 
 
 fastened upon himself, and the other representative of His Majesty 
 the beadle in the course of the morning-. 
 
 While these resolute and determined preparations for the conservation 
 of the King's peace, were pending-, Mr. Pickwick and his friends, wholly 
 unconscious of the mighty events in progress, had sat quietly down to 
 dinner; and very talkative and companionable they all were; Mr. Pick- 
 wick was in the very act of relating his adventure of the preceding 
 night, to the great amusement of his followers, Mr. Tupman especially, 
 when the door opened, and a somewhat forbidding countenance peeped 
 into the room. The eyes in the forbidding countenance looked very 
 earnestly at Mr. Pickwick, for several seconds, and were to all appear- 
 ance satisfied with their investigation ; for the body to which the forbid- 
 ding countenance belonged, slowly brought itself into the apartment, 
 and presented the form of an elderly individual in top-boots not to 
 keep the reader any longer in suspense, in short, the eyes were the 
 wandering eyes of Mr. Grummer, and the body was the body of the 
 same gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Grummer's mode of proceeding was professional, but peculiar. 
 His first act was to bolt the door on the inside ; his second, to polish his 
 head and countenance very carefully with a cotton handkerchief; his 
 third, to place his hat, with the cotton handkerchief in it, on the nearest 
 chair ; and his fourth to produce from the breast-pocket of his coat, a 
 short truncheon surmounted by a brazen crown, with which he beckoned 
 to Mr. Pickwick with a grave and ghost-like air. 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass was the first to break the astonished silence. He 
 Iqoked steadily at Mr. Grummer for a brief space, and then said empha- 
 tically " This is a private room, Sir a private room." ' 
 
 Mr. Grummer shook his head, and replied " No room's private to 
 His Majesty when the street door's once passed. That's law. Some 
 people maintains that an Englishman's house is his castle. That's 
 gammon." 
 
 The Pickwickians gazed on each other, with wondering eyes. 
 
 " Which is Mr. Tupman ? " inquired Mr. Grummer. He had an 
 intuitive perception of Mr. Pickwick ; he knew him at once. 
 
 " My name's Tupman," said that gentleman. 
 
 " My name's Law," said Mr. Grummer. 
 
 " What? " said Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " Law," replied Mr. Gruramer, "law, civil power, and exekative; 
 them's my titles; here's my authority. Blank Tupman, blank Pick- 
 vick against the peace of our sufferin Lord the King stattit in that 
 case made and purwided and all regular. I apprehend you Pickvick, 
 Tupman the aforesaid." 
 
 " What do you mean by this insolence ? " said Mr. Tupman, starting 
 up " Leave the room, leave the room." 
 
 " Halloo," said Mr. Grummer, retreating very expeditiously to the 
 door, and opening it an inch or two, " Dubbley." 
 
 " Well," said a deep voice from the passage. 
 
 " Come for'ard, Dubbley," said Mr. Grummer. 
 
 At the word of command, a dirty-faced man, something over six feet
 
 252 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 high, and stout in proportion, squeezed himself through the half-open 
 door, making his face very red in the process, and entered the room. 
 " Is the other specials outside, Duhbley? " inquired Mr. Gmmmer. 
 Mr. Duhbley, who was a man of few words, nodded assent. 
 " Order in the diwision under your charge, Dubbley," said Mr. 
 Grummer. 
 
 Mr. Dubbley did as he was desired ; and half a dozen men, each with a 
 short truncheon and a brass crown, flocked into the room. Mr. Grum- 
 mer pocketed his staff and looked at Mr. Dubbley, Mr. Dubbley pock- 
 eted his staff and looked at the division ; and the division pocketed 
 their staves and looked at Messrs. Tupman and Pickwick. 
 Mr. Pickwick and his followers, rose as one man. 
 " What is the meaning of this atrocious intrusion upon my privacy ?" 
 said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Who dares apprehend me ? " said Mr. Tupman. 
 " What do you want here, scoundrels ? " said Mr. Snodgrass. 
 Mr. W T inkle said nothings but he fixed his eyes on Grummer, and 
 bestowed a look upon him, which, if he had had any feeling, must 
 have pierced his brain, and come out on the other side. As it was, 
 however, it had no visible effect upon him whatever. 
 
 When the executive perceived that Mr. Pickwick and his friends 
 were disposed to resist the authority of the law, they very significantly 
 turned up their coat sleeves, as if knocking them down in the first 
 instance, and taking them up afterwards, were a mere professional act 
 which had only to be thought of, to be done, as a matter of course. This 
 demonstration was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He conferred a few 
 moments with Mr. Tupman apart, and then signified his readiness to 
 proceed to the Mayor's residence, merely begging the parties then and 
 there assembled, to take notice, that it was his firm intention to resent 
 this monstrous invasion of his privileges as an Englishman, the instant 
 he was at liberty, whereat the parties then and there assembled, laughed 
 very heartily> with the single exception of Mr. Grnmmer. who seemed 
 to consider that any slight cast upon the divine right of Magistrates, 
 was a species of blasphemy, not to be tolerated. 
 
 But when Mr. Pickwick had signified his readiness to how to the laws 
 of his country, and just when the waiters, and hostlers, and chamber- 
 maids, and post-boys, who had anticipated a delightful commotion from 
 his threatened obstinacy, began to turn away, disappointed and disgusted, 
 a difficulty arose which had not been foreseen. With every sentiment 
 of veneration for the constituted authorities, Mr. Pickwick resolutely 
 protested against making bis appearance in the public streets, surrounded 
 and guarded by the officers of justice, like a common criminal. Mr. 
 Grummer, in the then disturbed state of public feeling (for it was half- 
 holiday, and the boys had not yet gone home), as resolutely protested 
 against walking on the opposite side of the way, and taking Mr. Pick- 
 wick's parole that he would go straight to the Magistrate's ; and both Mr. 
 Pickwick and Mr. Tupman as strenuously objected to the expense of a 
 post-coach, which was the only respectable conveyance that could be 
 obtained. The dispute ran high, and the dilemma lasted long ; and just
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 253 
 
 as the executive were on the point of overcoming- Mr. Pickwick's objec- 
 tion to walking to the Magistrate's, by the trite expedient of carrying 
 him thither, it was recollected that there stood in the inn yard, an old 
 sedan chair, which having been originally built for a gouty gentleman 
 with funded property, would hold Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman, at 
 least as conveniently as a modern post-chaise. The chair was hired, and 
 brought into the hall ; Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman squeezed them- 
 selves inside, and pulled down the blinds ; a couple of chairmen were 
 speedily found, and the procession started in grand order. The specials 
 surrounded the body of the vehicle, Mr. Grummer and Mr. Dubbley 
 inarched triumphantly in front, Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle walked 
 arm in arm behind, and the unsoaped of Ipswich brought up the rear. 
 
 The shopkeepers of the town, although they had a very indistinct 
 notion of the nature of the offence, could not but be much edified and 
 gratified by this spectacle. Here was the strong arm of the law, coming 
 down with twenty gold-heater force, upon two offenders from the metro- 
 polis itself; the mighty engine was directed'by their own Magistrate, and 
 worked by their own officers ; and both the criminals by their united 
 efforts, were securely boxed up, in the narrow compass of one sedan- 
 chair. Many were the expressions of approval and admiration which 
 greeted Mr. Grummer, as he headed the cavalcade, staff in hand ; loud 
 and long were the shouts which were raised by the unsoaped ; and 
 amidst these united testimonials of public approbation, the procession 
 moved slowly and majestically along. 
 
 Mr. Weller, habited in his morning jacket with the black calico 
 sleeves, was returning in a rather desponding state from an unsuccessful 
 survey of the mysterious house with the green gate, when, raising his 
 eyes, he beheld a crowd pouring down the street, surrounding an object 
 which had very much the appearance of a sedan-chair. Willing to divert 
 his thoughts from the failure of his enterprise, he stepped aside to see 
 the crowd pass; and finding that they were cheering away, very much 
 to their own satisfaction, forthwith began (just by way of raising his 
 spirits) to cheer too, with all his might and main. 
 
 Mr. Grummer passed, and Mr. Dubbley passed, and the sedan passed, 
 and the body-guard of specials passed, and Sam was still responding to 
 the enthusiastic cheers of the mob, and waving his hat about as if he 
 were in the very last extreme of the wildest joy (though of course he had 
 not the faintest idea of the matter in hand), when he was suddenly stopped 
 by the unexpected appearance of Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " What's the row, genl'm'n?" cried Sum, " W T ho have they got in 
 this here watch-box in mournin'?" 
 
 Both gentlemen replied together, but their words were lost, in the 
 tumult. 
 
 " Who is it ?" roared Sam again. 
 
 Once more was a joint reply returned ; and though the words were 
 inaudible, Sam saw by the motion of the two pairs of lips that they had 
 uttered the magic word " Pickwick." 
 
 This was enough. In another minute Mr. Weller had made his way 
 through the crowd, stopped the chairmen, and confronted the portly 
 Grummer.
 
 254 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Hallo, old genl'ra'n," said Sam, " Who have you got in this here 
 con-wayance ? " 
 
 " Stand back," said Mr. Grummer, whose dignity, like the dignity 
 of a great many other men, had been wondrously augmented by a little 
 popularity. 
 
 " Knock him down, if he don't," said Mr. Dubbley. 
 . " I'm wery much obliged to you, old genl'm'n," replied Sam, " for 
 consulting my conwenience, and I'm still more obliged to the other 
 genl'm'n who looks as if he'd just escaped from a giant's carry wan, for 
 his wery 'ansome suggestion ; but I should perfer your givin' me a 
 answer to my question, if it's all the same to you. How are you, 
 Sir ? " This last observation was addressed with a patronising air to 
 Mr. Pickwick, who was peeping through the front window. 
 
 Mr. Grummer, perfectly speechless with indignation, dragged the 
 truncheon with the brass crown, from its particular pocket, and flourished 
 it before Sam's eyes. 
 
 " Ah," said Sam, " it's wery pretty, 'specially the crown, which is 
 uncommon like the real one." 
 
 " Stand back/' said the outraged Mr. Grummer. By way of adding 
 force to the command, he thrust the brass emblem of royalty into Sam's 
 neckcloth with one hand, and seized Sam's collar with the other, a 
 compliment which Mr. Weller returned by knocking him down out of 
 hand, having previously, with the utmost consideration, knocked down 
 a chairman for him to lie upon. 
 
 Whether Mr. Winkle was seized with a temporary attack of that 
 species of insanity which originates in a sense of injury, or animated 
 by this display of Mr. Weller's valour, is uncertain ; but certain it is, 
 that he no sooner saw Mr. Grummer fall, than he made a terrific 
 onslaught on a small boy who stood next him ; whereupon Mr. Snod- 
 grass, in a truly Christian spirit, and in* order that he might take no one 
 unawares, announced in a very loud tone that he was going to begin, 
 and proceeded to take off his coat with the utmost deliberation. He 
 was immediately surrounded and secured ; and it is but common justice 
 both to him and Mr. Winkle to say, that they did not make the slightest 
 attempt to rescue either themselves or Mr. Weller, who, after a most 
 vigorous resistance, was overpowered by numbers, and taken prisoner. 
 The procession then re-formed, the chairmen resumed their stations, 
 and the march was re-commenced. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's indignation during the whole of this proceeding was 
 beyond all bounds. He could just see Sam upsetting the specials, and 
 flying about, in every direction, and that was all he could see, for the 
 sedan doors wouldn't open, and the blinds wouldn't pull up. At length, 
 with the assistance of Mr. Tupman, he managed to push open the roof; 
 and mounting on the seat, and steadying himself as well as he could, 
 by placing his hand on that gentleman's shoulder, Mr. Pickwick pro- 
 ceeded to address the multitude ; to dwell upon the unjustifiable manner 
 in which he had been treated ; and to call upon them to take notice that 
 his servant had been first assaulted. And in this order they reached 
 the Magistrate's house ; the chairmen trotting, the prisoners following, 
 Mr. Pickwick oratorising, and the crowd shouting.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 255 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 SHOWING, AMONG A VARIETY OF PLEASANT MATTERS, HOW MA- 
 JESTIC AND IMPARTIAL MR. NUPKINS WAS ; AND HOW MR. 
 WELLER RETURNED MR. JOB TROTTER'S SHUTTLECOCK, AS HEA- 
 VILY AS IT CAME. WITH ANOTHER MATTER, WHICH WILL BE 
 FOUND IN ITS PLACE. 
 
 VIOLENT was Mr. Weller's indignation as he was borne along; 
 numerous were the allusions to the personal appearance and demeanour 
 of Mr. Grummer and his companion ; and valorous were the defiances 
 to any six of the gentlemen present, in which he vented his dissatis- 
 faction. Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle listened with gloomy respect 
 to the torrent of eloquence which their leader poured forth, from the 
 sedan chair, and the rapid course of which, not all Mr. Tupman's 
 earnest entreaties to have the lid of the vehicle closed, were able to 
 check for an instant. But Mr. Weller's anger quickly gave way to 
 curiosity, when the procession turned down the identical court-yard in 
 which he had met with the runaway Job Trotter : and curiosity was 
 exchanged for a feeling of the most gleeful astonishment, when the all- 
 important Mr. Grummer, commanding- the sedan- bearers to halt, 
 advanced with dignified and portentous steps, to the very green gate 
 from which Job Trotter had emerged, and gave a mighty pull at the 
 bell-handle which hung at the side thereof. The ring was answered by 
 a very smart and pretty-faced servant-girl, who, after holding up her 
 hands in astonishment at the rebellious appearance of the prisoners, and 
 the impassioned language of Mr. Pickwick, summoned Mr. Muzzle. 
 Mr. Muzzle opened one-half of the carriage gate, to admit the sedan, 
 the captured ones, and the specials ; and immediately slammed it in the 
 faces of the mob, who, indignant at being excluded, and anxious to see 
 what followed, relieved their feelings by kicking at the gate and ringing 
 the bell, for an hour or two afterwards. In this amusement they all 
 took part by turns, except three or four fortunate individuals, who 
 having discovered a grating in the gate which commanded a view of 
 nothing, were staring through it, with the same indefatigable perseve- 
 rance with which people will flatten their noses against the front 
 widows of a chemist's shop, when a drunken man, who has been run 
 over by a dog-cart in the street, is undergoing a surgical inspection in 
 the back -parlour. 
 
 At the foot of a flight of steps, leading to the house door, which were 
 guarded on either side by an American aloe in a green tub, the sedan- 
 chair stopped ; and Mr. Pickwick and his friends were conducted into 
 the hall, from whence, having been previously announced by Muzzle, 
 and ordered in by Mr. Nupkins, they were ushered into the worshipful 
 presence of that public-spirited officer. 
 
 The scene was an impressive one, well calculated to strike terror to
 
 256 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 the hearts of culprits, and to impress them with an adequate idea of the 
 stern majesty of the law. In front of a big book-case, in a big chair, 
 behind a big table, and before a big volume, sat Mr. Nupkins, looking 
 a full size larger than any one of them, big as they were. The table 
 was adorned with piles of papers, : and above the further end of it, ap- 
 peared the head and shoulders of Mr. Jinks, who was busily engaged 
 in looking as busy as possible. The party having all entered, Muzzle 
 carefully closed the door, and placed himself behind his master's chair 
 to await his orders ; Mr. Nupkins threw himself back, with thrilling 
 solemnity, and scrutinised the faces of his unwilling visiters. 
 
 " Now,, Grumraer, who is that person?" said Mr. Nupkins, pointing 
 to Mr. Pickwick, who, as the spokesman of his friends, stood hat in 
 hand, bowing with the utmost politeness and respect. 
 
 " This here's Pickvick, your wash-up," said Grammer. 
 
 " Come, none o' that 'ere, old Strike-a-light," interposed Mr. Weller, 
 elbowing himself into the front rank " Beg your pardon, Sir, but this 
 here officer o' yourn in the gambooge tops, 'nil never earn a decent livin' 
 as a master o' the ceremonies any vere. This here, Sir," continued 
 Mr. Weller, thrusting Grummer aside, and addressing the Magistrate with 
 pleasant familiarity " This here is S. Pickvick, Esquire ; this here's 
 Mr. Tupman ; that 'ere's Mr. Snodgrass ; and furder on, next him on 
 the t'other side, Mr. Winkle all wery nice genl'm'n, Sir, as you'll be 
 wery happy to have the acquaintance on ; so the sooner you commits 
 these here officers o' yourn to the tread-mill for a month or two, the 
 sooner we shall begin to be on a pleasant understanding. Business 
 fii>t, pleasure arterwards, as King Richard the Third said ven he stabbed 
 the t'other king in the Tower, afore he smothered the babbies." 
 
 At the conclusion of this address, Mr. Weller brushed his hat with 
 his right elbow, and nodded benignly to Jinks, who had heard him 
 throughout, with unspeakable awe. 
 
 " Who is this mac, Grummer ? " said the magistrate. 
 
 " Wery desp'rate ch'racter, your wash-up," replied Grummer. " He 
 attempted to rescue the prisoners, and assaulted the officers so we 
 took him into custody, c:nd brought him here." 
 
 " you did quite right," replied the magistrate. " He is evidently a 
 desperate ruffian." 
 
 " He is my servant, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, angrily. 
 
 " Oh ! he is your servant, is he ? " said Mr. Nupkins. " A conspi- 
 racy to defeat the ends of justice, and murder its officers. I ickwick's 
 servant. Put that down, Mr. Jinks." 
 
 Mr. Jinks did so. 
 
 " What's your name, fellow ? " thundered Mr. Nupkins. 
 
 " Veller," replied Sam. 
 
 " A very good name for the Newgate Calendar," said Mr. Nupkins. 
 
 This was a joke; so Jinks, Grummer, Dubbley, all the specials, and 
 Muzzle, went into fits of laughter of five minutes' duration. 
 
 " Put down his name, Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate. 
 
 " Two L's, old feller," said Sam. 
 
 Here an unfortunate special laughed again, whereupon^the magistrate
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 257 
 
 threatened to commit him, instantly. It's a dangerous thing laughing 1 
 at the wrong- man, in these cases. 
 
 " Where do you live?" said the magistrate. 
 " Vare-ever I can," replied Sam. 
 
 " Put down that, Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate, who was fast rising- 
 into a rage. 
 
 " Score it under," said Sam. 
 
 " He is a vagabond, Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate. " He is a vaga- 
 bond on his own statement, is he not, Mr. Jinks ? " 
 " Certainly, Sir." 
 
 " Then I'll commit him I'll commit him, as such," said Mr. 
 Nupkins. 
 
 " This is a wery impartial country for justice," said Sam. " There 
 ain't a magistrate going, as don't commit himself, twice as often as he 
 commits other people." 
 
 At this sally another special laughed, and then tried to look so super- 
 iiaturally solemn, that the magistrate detected him immediately. 
 
 " Grummer," said Mr. Nupkins, reddening with passion, " how dare 
 you select such an inefficient and disreputable person for a special con- 
 table, as that man ? How dare you do it, Sir ? " 
 
 " lam very sorry, your wash-up," stammered Grummer. 
 " Very sorry! " said the furious magistrate. " You shall repent of 
 this neglect of duty, Mr. Grummer ; you shall be made an example of. 
 Take that fellow's staff away. He's drunk. You're drunk, fellow." 
 " I am not drunk, your worship," said the man. 
 " You are drunk," returned the magistrate. " How dare you say 
 you are not drunk, Sir, when I say you are ? Doesn't he smell of 
 spirits, Grummer? " 
 
 " Horrid, your wash-up," replied Grummer, who had a vague im- 
 pression that there was a smell of rum somewhere. 
 
 " I knew he did," said Mr. Nupkins. " I saw he was drunk when he 
 first came into the room, by his excited eye. Did you observe his 
 excited eye, Mr. Jinks? " 
 " Certainly, Sir." 
 
 " I haven't touched a drop of spirits this morning," said the man, who 
 was as sober a fellow as need be. 
 
 " How dare you tell me a falsehood ? " said Mr. Nupkins. " Is n't 
 he drunk at this moment, Mr. Jinks?" 
 " Certainly, Sir," replied Jinks. 
 
 " Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate, " I shall commit that man, for 
 contempt. Make out his committal, Mr. Jinks." 
 
 And committed the special would have been, only Jinks, who was the 
 magistrate's adviser, having had a legal education of three years in a 
 country attorney's office, whispered the magistrate that he thought it 
 wouldn't do ; so the magistrate made a speech, and said, that in consi- 
 deration of the special's family, he would merely reprimand and discharge 
 him. Accordingly, the special was abused vehemently for a quarter of 
 an hour, and sent about his business : and Grummer, Dubbley, Muzzle,
 
 258 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and all the other specials murmured their admiration of the magnanimity 
 of Mr. Nupkins. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate, *' swear Grummer." 
 
 Grnmmer was sworn directly ; but as Grummer wandered, and Mr. 
 Nupkins' dinner was nearly ready, Mr. Nupkins cut the matter short, 
 by putting leading questions to Grummer, which Grummer answered as 
 nearly in the affirmative as he could. So the examination went off, all 
 very smooth and comfortable ; and two assaults were proved against Mr. 
 Weller, and a threat against Mr. Winkle, and a push against Mr. Snod- 
 grass. And when all this was done to the magistrate's satisfaction, the 
 magistrate and Mr. Jinks consulted in whispers. 
 
 The consultation having lasted about ten minutes, Mr. Jinks retired 
 to his end of the table ; and the magistrate, with a preparatory cough, 
 drew himself up in his chair, and was proceeding to commence his 
 address, when Mr. Pickwick interposed. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir, for interrupting you," said Mr. Pickwick ; 
 " but before you proceed to express, and act upon, any opinion you may 
 have formed on the statements which have been made here, I must 
 claim my right to be heard, so far as I am personally concerned." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Sir," said the magistrate, peremptorily. 
 
 " I must submit to you, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Sir," interposed the magistrate, " or I shall 
 order an officer to remove you." 
 
 " You may order your officers to do whatever you please, Sir," said 
 Mr. Pickwick; " and I have no doubt, from the specimen I have had of 
 the subordination preserved among them, that whatever you order, they 
 will execute ; but I shall take the liberty, Sir, of claiming my right to 
 be heard, until I am removed by force." 
 
 " Pickvick and principle," exclaimed Mr. Weller, in a very audible 
 voice. 
 
 " Sam, be quiet," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Dumb as a drum vith a hole in it," replied Sam. 
 
 Mr. Nupkins looked at Mr. Pickwick with a gaze of intense astonish- 
 ment, at his displaying such unwonted temerity ; and was apparently 
 about to return a very angry reply, when Mr. Jinks pulled him by the 
 sleeve, and whispered something in his ear. To this, the magistrate 
 returned a half-audible answer, and then the whispering was renewed. 
 Jinks was evidently remonstrating. 
 
 At length the magistrate, gulping down with a very bad grace his 
 disinclination to hear anything more, turned to Mr. Pickwick, and said 
 sharply " What do you want to say ? " 
 
 " First," said Mr. Pickwick, sending a look through his spectacles, 
 under which even Nupkins quailed. " First, I wish to know what I 
 and my friend have been brought here for ? " 
 
 " Must I tell him ? " whispered the magistrate to Jinks. 
 
 " I think you had better, Sir," whispered Jinks to the magistrate. 
 
 " An information has been sworn before me," said the magistrate, 
 " that it is apprehended you are going to fight a duel, and that the
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 259 
 
 other man, Tupraan, is your aider and abettor in it. Therefore eb, 
 Mr. Jinks?" 
 
 " Certainly, Sir." 
 
 " Therefore, I call upon you both, to I think that's the course, Mr. 
 Jinks?" 
 
 " Certainly, Sir." 
 
 To to what Mr. Jinks?" said the magistrate, pettishly. 
 To find bail, Sir." 
 
 Yes. Therefore, I call upon you both as I was about to say, 
 when I was interrupted by my clerk to find bail." 
 Good bail," whispered Mr. Jinks. 
 I shall require good bail," said the magistrate. 
 Town's-people," whispered Jinks. 
 They must be town's-people," said the magistrate. 
 Fifty pounds each," whispered Jinks, " and householders, of 
 course." 
 
 " I shall require two sureties of fifty pounds each," said the magis- 
 trate aloud, with great dignity, "and they must be householders, of 
 course." 
 
 " But, bless my heart, Sir," said "Mr. Pickwick, who, together with 
 Mr. Tupman, was all amazement and indignation ; " we are perfect 
 strangers in this town. I have as little knowledge of any householders 
 here, as I have intention of fighting a duel with any body." 
 
 " I dare say," replied the magistrate, " I dare say don't you, Mr. 
 Jinks ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Sir." 
 
 "Have you anything more to say?" inquired the magistrate. 
 Mr. Pickwick had a great deal more to say, which he would no 
 doubt have said, very little to his own advantage, or the magistrate's 
 satisfaction, if he had not, the moment he ceased speaking, been pulled 
 by the sleeve by Mr. Weller, with whom he was immediately engaged 
 in so earnest a conversation, that he suffered the magistrate's inquiry 
 to pass wholly \innoticed. Mr. Nupkins was not the man to ask a 
 question of the kind twice over ; and so, with another preparatory cough, 
 he proceeded, amidst the reverential and admiring silence of the con- 
 stables, to pronounce his decision. 
 
 He should fine Weller two pounds for the first assault, and three 
 pounds for the second. He should fine Winkle two pounds, and 
 Snodgrass one pound, besides requiring them to enter into their own 
 recognizances to keep the peace towards all his Majesty's subjects, and 
 especially towards his liege servant, Daniel Grummer. Pickwick and 
 Tupman he had already held to bail. 
 
 Immediately on the magistrate ceasing to speak, Mr. Pickwick, with 
 a smile mantling on his again-good-humoured countenance, stepped 
 forward, and said 
 
 " I beg the magistrate's pardon, but may I request a few minutes' 
 private conversation with him, on a matter of deep importance to 
 himself?" 
 
 " What 1" said the magistrate.
 
 260 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Pickwick repeated his request. 
 
 " This is a most extraordinary request," said the magistrate rt A 
 private interview !" 
 
 " A private interview," replied Mr. Pickwick, firmly ; " only as a 
 part of the information which I wish to communicate is derived from 
 my servant, I should wish him to be present." 
 
 The magistrate looked at Mr. Jinks, Mr. Jinks looked at the 
 magistrate, and the officers looked at each other in amazement. Mr. 
 Nupkins turned suddenly pale. Could the man Weller, in a moment 
 of remorse, have divulged some secret conspiracy for his assassination ? 
 It was a dreadful thought. He was a public man ; and he turned paler, 
 as he thought of Julius Caesar and Mr. Perceval. 
 
 The magistrate looked at Mr. Pickwick again, and beckoned Mr. 
 Jinks. 
 
 " What do you think of this request, Mr. Jinks ?" murmured Mr. 
 Nupkins. 
 
 Mr. Jinks, who didn't exactly know what to think of it, and was 
 afraid he might offend, smiled feebly, after a dubious fashion, and, 
 screwing up the corners of his mouth, shook his head slowly from side 
 to side. 
 
 " Mr. Jinks," said the magistrate, gravely, " you are an ass, Sir." 
 
 At this little expression of opinion, Mr. Jinks smiled again rather 
 more feebly than before and edged himself, by degrees, back into his 
 own corner. 
 
 Mr. Nupkins debated the matter within himself for a few seconds, 
 and then, rising from his chair, and requesting Mr. Pickwick and Sam 
 to follow him, led the way into a small room which opened into the 
 justice parlour. Desiring Mr. Pickwick to walk to the further end of 
 the little apartment, and hodling his hand upon the half-closed door, 
 that he might be able to effect an immediate escape, in case there \va? 
 the least tendency to a display of hostilities, Mr. Nupkins 4 expressed 
 his readiness to hear the communication, whatever it might be. 
 
 " 1 will come to the point at once, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, sc it 
 affects yourself, and your credit, materially. I have every reason to 
 believe, Sir, that you are harbouring in your house, a gross impostor ! " 
 
 " Two," interrupted Sam, " Mulberry agin all natur, for tears and 
 willainny." 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " if I am to render myself intelligible to 
 this gentleman, I must beg you to controul your feelings." 
 
 " Wery sorry, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; " but when I think o' that 
 'ere Job, I can't help opening the waive a inch or two." 
 
 " In one word, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " is my servant right in sus- 
 pecting that a certain Captain Fitz-Marshull is in the habit of visiting 
 here ? Because," added Mr. Pickwick, as he saw that Mr. Nupkins 
 was about to offer a very indignant interruption " because, if he be, I 
 know that person to be a " 
 
 " Hush, hush," said Mr. Nupkins, closing the door. " Know him 
 to be what, Sir ? " 
 
 " An unprincipled adventurer a dishonourable character a man
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 261 
 
 who preys upon society, and makes easily-deceived people his dupes, 
 Sir; his absurd, his foolish, his wretched dupes, Sir," said the excited 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Xupkins, colouring- up very red, and altering 1 
 his whole manner directly. " Dear me, Mr. " 
 
 11 Pickvick," said Sam. 
 
 " Pickwick," said the Magistrate, " dear me, Mr. Pickwick pray 
 take a seat you cannot mean this? Captain Fitz-Marshall ! " 
 
 " Don't call him a cap'en," said Sam, " nor Fitz-Marshall neither ; 
 he ain't neither one nor t'other. He's a strolling actor, he is, and his 
 Dame's Jingle ; and if ever there was a wolf in a mulberry suit, that ere 
 Job Trotter's him." 
 
 " It is very true, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, replying to the magistrate's 
 look of amazement ; " my only business in this town, is to expose the 
 person of whom we now speak."' 
 
 And Mr. Pickwick proceeded to pour into the horror-stricken ear of 
 Mr. Nupkins, an abridged account of all Mr. Jingle's atrocities. He 
 related how he had first met him, how he had eloped with Miss Wardle, 
 Low he had cheerfully resigned the lady for a pecuniary consideration, 
 how he had entrapped him into a lady's boarding-school at midnight, 
 and how he (Mr. Pickwick) now felt it his duty to expose his assump- 
 tion of his present name and rank. 
 
 As the narrative proceeded, all the warm blood in the body of Mr. 
 Nupkins tingled up into the very tips of his ears. He had picked up 
 the captain at a neighbouring race-course. Charmed with his longlist 
 of aristocratic acquaintance, his extensive travel, and his fashionalile 
 demeanour, Mrs. Nupkins and Miss Nupkins had exhibited Captain 
 Fitz-Marshall, and quoted Captain Fitz-Marshall, and hurled Captain 
 Fitz-Marshall at the devoted heads of their select circle of acquaintance, 
 until their bosom friends, Mrs. Porkenham and the Miss Porkenhams, 
 and Mr. Sidney Porkenham, were ready to burst with jealousy and 
 despair. And now, to hear after all, that he was a needy adventurer, a 
 strolling player, and if not a swindler, something so very like it, that it 
 was hard to tell the difference ! Heavens ! what would the Porkenhams 
 say ! What would be the triumph of Mr. Sidney Porkenham when he 
 found that his addresses had been slighted for such a rival ! How should 
 he meet the eye of old Porkenham at the next Quarter Sessions ! and 
 what a handle would it be for the opposition magisterial party, if the 
 story got abroad ! 
 
 " But after all," said Mr. Nupkins, brightening up for a moment, 
 after a long pause ; " after all, this is a mere statement. Captain Fitz- 
 Marshall is a man of very engaging manners, and, I dare say, has 
 many enemies. What proof have you, of the truth of these represent- 
 ations?" 
 
 " Confront me with him," said Mr. Pickwick, " that is all I ask, and 
 all I require. Confront him with me, and my friends here ; you vyill 
 want no further proof." 
 
 "Why," said Mr. Nupkins, "that might be rery easily done, for 
 he will be here to-night, and then there would be no occasion to make 
 x2
 
 262 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 the matter public, just just for the young man's own sake, you know. 
 I I should like to consult Mrs. Nupkins on the propriety of the step, 
 in the first instance, though. At all events, Mr. Pickwick, we must 
 despatch this legal business before we can do anything else. Pray step 
 back into the next room." 
 
 Into the next room they went. 
 
 " Grummer," said the magistrate, in an awful voice. 
 
 " Your wash-up," replied Grummer, with the smile of a favourite. 
 
 " Come, come, Sir," said the magistrate, sternly, " don't let me see 
 any of this levity here. It is very unbecoming, and I can assure you 
 that you have very little to smile at. Was the account you gave me 
 just now, strictly true ? Now be careful, Sir." 
 
 " Your wash-up," stammered Grummer, " I " 
 
 " Oh, you are confused, are you ? " said the magistrate. " Mr. Jinks, 
 you observe this confusion ?" 
 
 " Certainly, Sir," replied Jinks. 
 
 " Now," said the magistrate, "just repeat your statement, Grummer, 
 and again I warn you to be careful. Mr. Jinks, take his words down." 
 
 The unfortunate Grummer proceeded to re-state his complaint, but, 
 what between Mr. Jinks's taking down his words, and the magistrate's 
 taking {hem up ; his natural tendency to rambling, and his extreme 
 confusion, he managed to get involved, in something under three 
 minutes, in such a mass of entanglement and contradiction, that Mr. 
 Nupkins at once declared he didn't believe him. So the fines were 
 remitted, and Mr. Jinks found a couple of bail in no time. And all 
 these solemn proceedings having been satisfactorily concluded, Mr. 
 Grummer was ignominiously ordered out an awful instance of the 
 instability of human greatness, and the uncertain tenure of great men's 
 favour. 
 
 Mrs. Xupkins was a majestic female in a blue gauze turban and a 
 light brown wig. Miss Nupkins possessed all her mamma's haughtiness 
 without the turban, and all her ill-nature without the wig ; and when- 
 ever the exercise of these two amiable qualities involved mother and 
 daughter in some unpleasant dilemma, as they not unfrequently did, 
 they both concurred in laying the blame on the shoulders of Mr. Nup- 
 kins. Accordingly, when Mr. Nupkins sought Mrs. Nupkins, and 
 detailed the communication which had been made by Mr. Pickwick, 
 Mrs. Xupkins suddenly recollected that she had always expected some- 
 thing of the kind ; that she had always said it would be so ; that her 
 advice was never taken ; that she really did not know what Mr. Nupkins 
 supposed she was; and so forth. 
 
 "The idea!" said Miss Nupkins, forcing a tear of very scanty 
 proportions, into the corner of each eye, " the idea of my being made 
 such a fool of!" 
 
 " Ah ! you may thank your papa, my dear," said Mrs. Nupkins ; 
 " how I have implored and begged that man to inquire into the Cap- 
 tain's family connections ; how I have urged and entreated him to take 
 some decisive step ! I am quite certain nobody would believe it 
 quite."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 263 
 
 " But, my dear," said Mr. Nupkins. 
 
 " Don't talk to me, you aggravating thing, don't," said Mrs. 
 Nupkins. 
 
 " My love," said Mr. Nupkins, " you professed yourself very fond 
 of Captain Fitz-Marshall. You have constantly asked him here, my 
 dear, and you have lost no opportunity of introducing him elsewhere." 
 
 " Didn't I say so, Henrietta?" said Mrs. Nupkins, appealing to her 
 daughter with the air of a much-injured female " Didn't I say that 
 your papa would turn round, and lay all this, at my door? Didn't I say 
 so ? " Here Mrs. Nupkins sobbed. 
 
 " Oh pa!" remonstrated Miss Nupkins. And here she sobbed too. 
 
 " Isn't it too much, when he has brought all this disgrace and ridi- 
 cule upon us, for him to taunt me with being the cause of it?" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Nupkins. 
 
 " How can we ever shew ourselves in society!" said Miss Nupkins. 
 
 " How can we face the Porkenhams !" said Mrs. Nupkins. 
 
 " Or the Griggs's !" said Miss Nupkins. 
 
 <f Or the Slummintowkens ! " said Mrs. Nupkins. " But what does 
 your papa care! What is it to him!" At this dreadful reflection, 
 Mrs. Nupkins wept with mental anguish, and Miss Nupkins followed 
 on the same side. 
 
 Mrs. Nupkins's tears continued to gush forth, with great Velocity, 
 until she had gained a little time to think the matter over, when she 
 decided in her own mind, that the best thing to do, would be to ask 
 Mr. Pickwick and his friends to remain until the Captain's arrival, and 
 then to give Mr. Pickwick the opportunity he sought. If it appeared 
 that he had spoken truly, the Captain could be turned out of the house 
 without noising the matter abroad, and they could easily account to the 
 Porkenhams for his disappearance, by saying that he had been appointed, 
 through the Court influence of his family, to the Governor-Generalship 
 of Sierra Leone, or Sangur Point, or any other of those salubrious 
 climates which enchant Europeans so much, that, when they once get 
 there, they can hardly ever prevail upon themselves to come back 
 again. 
 
 When Mrs. Nupkins dried up her tears, Miss Nupkins dried up 
 hers, and Mr. Nupkins was very glad to settle the matter as Mrs. 
 Nupkins had proposed. So Mr. Pickwick and his friends, having 
 washed off all marks of their late encounter, were introduced to the 
 ladies, and soon afterwards to their dinner ; and Mr. Weller, whom the 
 magistrate with his peculiar sagacity, had discovered in half an hour to 
 be one of the finest fellows alive, was consigned to the care and guardian- 
 ship of Mr. Muzzle, who was specially enjoined to take him below, and 
 make much of him. 
 
 " How de do, Sir?" said Mr. Muzzle, as he conducted Mr. Weller 
 down the kitchen stairs. 
 
 " Why, no con-siderable change has taken place in the state of my 
 system, since I see you cocked up behind your governor's chair in the 
 parlour, a little vile ago," replied Sam. 
 
 " You will excuse my not taking more notice of you then," said Mr.
 
 264 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Muzzle. " You see, master hadn't introduced us, then. Lord, how- 
 fond he is of you, Mr. Weller, to be sure ! " 
 
 " Ah," said Sam, " what a pleasant chap he is ! " 
 
 " Ain't he?" replied Mr. Muzzle. 
 
 " So much humour," said Sam. 
 
 " And such a man to speak," said Mr. Muzzle. " How his ideas 
 flow, don't they ? " 
 
 " Wonderful," replied Sara ; " they comes a pouring out, knocking 
 each other's heads so fast, that they seems to stun one another ; you 
 hardly know what he's arter, do you ? " 
 
 " That's the great merit of his style of speaking," rejoined Mr. 
 Muzzle. " Take care of the last step, Mr. Weller. Would you like 
 to wash your hands, Sir, before we join the ladies ? Here's a sink, with 
 the water laid on, Sir, and a clean jack towel behind the door." 
 
 " Ah, perhaps I may as vel have a rinse," replied Mr. Weller, 
 applying plenty of yellow soap to the towel, and rubbing away, till his 
 face shone again. " How many ladies are there ? " 
 
 " Only two in our kitchen," said Mr. Muzzle, " cook and 'ousemaid. 
 We keep a boy to do the dirty work, and a gal besides, but they dine 
 in the washus." 
 
 " Oh, they dines in the washus, do they ? " said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Yes," replied Mr. Muzzle, " we tried 'em at our table w : hen they 
 first come, but we couldn't keep 'em. The gal's manners is dreadful 
 vulgar ; and the boy breathes so very hard while he's eating, that we 
 found it impossible to sit at table with him." 
 
 " What a young grampus ! " said Mr. Weller. 
 
 *' Oh, dreadful," rejoined Mr. Muzzle ; " but that is the worst of 
 country service, Mr. Weller ; the juniors is always so very savage. 
 This way, Sir, if you please this way." 
 
 And preceding Mr. Weller, with the utmost politeness, Mr. Muzzle 
 conducted him into the kitchen. 
 
 " Mary," said Mr. Muzzle to the pretty servant-girl, " this is Mr. 
 Weller, a gentleman as master has sent down, to be made as comfort- 
 able as possible." 
 
 " And your master's a knowin' hand and has just sent me to the 
 right place," said Mr. Weller, with a glance of admiration at Mary. 
 " If I was master o' this here house, I should alvays find the materials 
 for comfort vere Mary vas." 
 
 " Lor, Mr. Weller ! " said Mary, blushing. 
 
 " W r ell, I never ! " ejaculated the cook. 
 
 " Bless me, cook, I forgot you," said Mr. Muzzle. " Mr. Weller, 
 let me introduce you." 
 
 " How are you, Ma'am," said Mr. Weller. " Wery glad to see you, 
 indeed ; and hope our acquaintance may be a long 'un, as the gen'lm'n 
 said to the fi' pun' note." 
 
 When this ceremony of introduction had been gone through, the 
 cook and Mary retired into the back kitchen to titter for ten minutes ; 
 and then returning, all giggles and blushes, they sat down to dinner. 
 
 Mr. Weller's easy manner and conversational powers had such irre-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 265 
 
 sistible influence with his new friends, that before the dinner was half 
 over, they were on a footing of perfect intimacy, and in possession of a 
 full account of the delinquency of Job Trotter. 
 
 " I never could a-bear that Job," said Mary. 
 
 " No more you never ought to, my dear," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Why not ? " inquired Mary. 
 
 " Cos ugliness and svindlin' never ought to be formiliar vith elegance 
 and wirtew," replied Mr. Weller. " Ought they, Mr. Muzzle? " 
 
 " Not by no means," replied that gentleman. 
 
 Here Mary laughed, and said the cook had made her ; and the cook 
 laughed, and said she hadn't. 
 
 " I han't got a glass," said Mary. 
 
 " Drink vith me, my dear," said Mr. Weller. " Put your lips to 
 this here tumbler, and then I can kiss you by deputy." 
 
 For shame, Mr. Weller," said Mary. 
 
 " What's a shame, my dear ? " 
 
 " Talkin' in that way." 
 
 " Nonsense ;it ain't no harm. It's natur ; ain't it, cook ? " 
 
 " Don't ask me imperence," replied the cook, in a high state of 
 delight: and hereupon the cook and Mary laughed again, till what 
 between the beer, and the cold meat, and the laughter combined, the 
 latter young lady was brought to the verge of choaking an alarming 
 crisis from which she was only recovered by sundry pats of the back, and 
 other necessary attentions, most delicately administered by Mr. Samuel 
 Weller. 
 
 In the midst of all this jollity and conviviality, a loud ring was heard 
 at the garden-gate, to which the young gentleman who took his meals 
 in the wash-house, immediately responded. Mr. Weller was in the 
 height of his attentions to the pretty housemaid ; Mr. Muzzle was busy 
 doing the honours of the table ; and the cook had just paused to laugh, 
 in the very act of raising a huge morsel to her lips, when the kitchen- 
 door opened, and in walked Mr. Job Trotter. 
 
 We have said in walked Mr. Job Trotter, but the statement is not 
 distinguished by our usual scrupulous adherence to fact. The door 
 opened, and Mr. Trotter appeared. He would have walked in, and was 
 in the very act of doing so indeed, when catching sight of Mr. Weller, 
 he involuntarily shrunk back a pace or two, and stood gazing on the 
 unexpected scene before him, perfectly motionless with amazement and 
 terror. 
 
 "Here he is," said Sam, rising with great glee. "Why we were that 
 wery moment a speaking o' you. How are you ? Vere have you been ? 
 Come in." 
 
 And laying his hand on the mulberry collar of the unresisting Job, 
 Mr. Weller dragged him into the kitchen ; and locking the door, handed 
 the key to Mr. Muzzle, who very coolly buttoned it up, in a side- 
 pocket. 
 
 " Well, here's a game," cried Sam. " Only think o' my master 
 havin' the pleasure o' meeting your'n, up stairs, and me havin' the joy o' 
 meetin' you down here. How are you gettin' on, and how is the
 
 266 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 chandlery bis'ness likely to do? Vel, I am so glad to see you. How happy 
 you look. It's quite a treat to see you, ain't it, Mr. Muzzle?" 
 
 " Quite," said Mr. Muzzle. 
 
 " So cheerful he is," said Sam. 
 
 " In such good spirits," said Muzzle. 
 
 " And so glad to see us that makes it so much more comfortable," 
 said Sam. " Sit down ; sit down." 
 
 Mr. Trotter suffered himself to be forced into a chair by the fireside. 
 He cast his small eyes first on Mr. Weller, and then on^Mr. Muzzle, 
 but said nothing. 
 
 " Well, now," said Sam, " afore these here ladies, I should just like 
 to ask you, as a sort of curiosity, vether you don't con-sider yourself as 
 nice and veil-behaved a young gen'lm'n as ever used a pink check 
 pocket-handkerchief, and the number four collection? " 
 
 " And as was ever a-going to be married to a cook," said that lady, 
 indignantly, " The willin ! " 
 
 " And leave off his evil ways, and set up in the chandlery line, arter- 
 wards," said the house-maid. 
 
 7 " Now, I'll tell you what it is, young man," said Mr. Muzzle, 
 solemnly, enraged at the last two allusions, " this here lady (pointing 
 to the cook) keeps company with me ; and when you presume, Sir, to 
 talk of keeping chandlers' shops with her, you injure me in one of the 
 most delicatest points in which one man can injure another. Do you 
 understand that, Sir?" 
 
 Here Mr. Muzzle, who had a great notion of his eloquence, in which 
 he imitated his master, paused for a reply. 
 
 But Mr. Trotter made no reply. So Mr. Muzzle proceeded in a 
 solemn manner 
 
 " It's very probable, Sir, that you won't be wanted up stairs for 
 several minutes, Sir, because mij master is at this moment particularly 
 engaged in settling the hash of your master, Sir : and therefore you'll 
 have leisure, Sir, for a little private talk with me, Sir. Do you under- 
 stand that, Sir ? " 
 
 Mr. Muzzle again paused for a reply ; and again Mr. Trotter disap- 
 pointed him. 
 
 " Well, then," said Mr. Muzzle, " I'm very sorry to have to explain, 
 myself before the ladies, but the urgency of the case will be my excuse. 
 The back kitchen's empty, Sir; if you will step in there, Sir, Mr. 
 Weller will see fair, and we can have mutual satisfaction 'till the bell 
 rings. Follow me, Sir." 
 
 As Mr. Muzzle uttered these words, he took a step or two towards 
 the door ; and by way of saving time, began to pull off his coat as he 
 walked along. 
 
 Now the cook no sooner heard the concluding words of this desperate 
 challenge, and saw Mr. Muzzle about to put it into execution, than she 
 uttered a loud and piercing shriek ; and rushing on Mr. Job Trotter, 
 who rose from his chair on the instant, tore and buffeted his large flat 
 face, with an energy peculiar to excited females, and twining her hands 
 in his long black hair, tore therefrom about enough to make five or six
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 267 
 
 dozen of the very largest-sized mourning-rings. Having accomplished 
 this feat with all the ardour which her devoted love for Mr. Muzzle 
 inspired, she staggered back ; and being a lady of very excitable and 
 delicate feelings, instantly fell under the dresser, and fainted away. 
 
 At this moment, the bell rang. 
 
 " That's for you, Job Trotter," said Sam ; and before Mr. Trotter 
 could oft'er remonstrance or reply even before he had time to stanch 
 the wounds inflicted by the insensible lady Sam seized one arm and 
 Mr. Muzzle the other ; and one pulling before, and the other pushing 
 behind, they conveyed him up stairs, and into the parlour. 
 
 It was an impressive tableau. Alfred Jingle, Esquire, alias Captain 
 Fitz-Marshall, was standing near the door with his hat in his hand, and 
 a smile on his face, wholly unmoved by his very unpleasant situation. 
 Confronting him, stood Mr.Pickwick, who had evidently been inculcating 
 some high moral lesson, for his left hand was beneath his coat tail, and 
 his right extended in air, as was his wont when delivering himself of an 
 impressive address. At a little distance stood Mr. Tupman with indig- 
 nant countenance, carefully held back by his two younger friends ; and 
 at the further end of the room were Mr. Nupkins, Mrs. Nupkins, and 
 Miss Nupkins, gloomily grand, and savagely vexed. 
 
 " What prevents me," said Mr. Nupkins, with magisterial dignity, as 
 Job was brought in " what prevents me from detaining these men as 
 rogues and impostors ? It is a foolish mercy. What prevents me ? " 
 
 " Pride, old fellow, pride," replied Jingle, quite at his ease. " Wouldn't 
 do no go caught a captain, eh ? ha ! ha ! very good husband for 
 daughter biter bit make it public not for worlds look stupid 
 very ! " 
 
 " Wretch," said Mrs. Nupkins, " we scorn your base insinuations." 
 
 " I always hated him," added Henrietta. 
 
 " Oh, of course," said Jingle. " Tall young man old lover Sidney 
 Porkenham rich fine fellow not so rich as captain, though, eh ? turn 
 him away off with him anything for captain nothing like captain 
 anywhere all the girls raving mad eh, Job, eh ? " 
 
 Here Mr. Jingle laughed very heartily ; and Job, rubbing his hands 
 with delight, uttered the first sound he had given vent to, since he 
 entered the house a low noiseless chuckle, which seemed to intimate 
 that he enjoyed his laugh too much, to let any of it escape in sound. 
 
 " Mr. Nupkins," said the elder lady, <: this is not a fit conversation 
 for the servants to overhear. Let these wretches be removed." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," said Mr. Nupkins. " Muzzle." 
 
 " Your worship." 
 
 " Open the front door." 
 
 " Yes, your worship." 
 
 " Leave the house," said Mr. Nupkins, waving his hand emphatically. 
 
 Jingle smiled, and moved towards the door. 
 
 " Stay," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Jingle stopped. 
 
 " I might," said Mr. Pickwick, " have taken a much greater revenge 
 for the treatment I have experienced at your hands, and that of your 
 hypocritical friend there."
 
 268 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Here Job Trotter bowed with great politeness, and laid his hand 
 upon his heart. 
 
 " I say," said Mr. Pickwick, growing gradually angry, '' that I might 
 have taken a greater revenge, but I content myself with exposing you, 
 which I consider a duty I owe to society. This is a leniency, Sir, which 
 I hope you will remember." 
 
 When Mr. Pickwick arrived at this point, Job Trotter, with facetious 
 gravity, applied his hand to his ear, as if desirous not to lose a syllable 
 he uttered. 
 
 " And I have only to add, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, now thoroughly 
 angry, " that I consider you a rascal, and a a ruffian and and worse 
 than any man I ever saw, or heard of, except that very pious and sancti- 
 fied vagabond in the mulberry livery." 
 
 "Ha! ha! " said Jingle, "good fellow, Pickwick fine heart stout 
 old boy but must not be passionate bad thing, very bye, bye see 
 you again some day keep up your spirits now Job trot." 
 
 With these words, Mr. Jingle stuck on his hat in his old fashion, 
 and strode out of the room. Job Trotter paused, looked round, smiled, 
 and then with a bow of mock solemnity to Mr. Pickwick, and a wink to 
 Mr. Weller, the audacious slyness of which, baffles all description, fol- 
 lowed the footsteps of his hopeful master. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, as Mr. Weller was following. 
 
 Sir." 
 
 " Stay here." 
 
 Mr. Weller seemed uncertain. 
 
 " Stay here," repeated Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Mayn't I polish that ere Job off, in the front garden ? " said Mr. 
 Weller. ' 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Mayn't I kick him out o' the gate, Sir? " said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Not on any account," replied his master. 
 
 For the first time since his engagement, Mr. Weller looked, for a 
 moment, discontented and unhappy. But his countenance immediately 
 cleared up, for the wily Mr. Muzzle, by concealing himself behind the 
 street door, and rushing violently out, at the right instant, contrived 
 with great dexterity to overturn both Mr. Jingle and his attendant, 
 down the flight of steps, into the American aloe tubs that stood beneath. 
 
 " Having discharged my duty, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick to Mr. Nup- 
 kins, (i I will, with my friends, bid you farewell. While we thank you 
 for such hospitality as we have received, permit me to assure you in our 
 joint names that we should not have accepted it, or consented to extri- 
 cate ourselves in this way, from our previous dilemma, had we not been 
 impelled by a strong sense of duty. We return to London to-morrow. 
 Your secret is safe with us." 
 
 Having thus entered his protest against their treatment of the morn- 
 ing, Mr. Pickwick bowed low to the ladies ; and notwithstanding the 
 solicitations of the family, left the room with his friends. 
 
 " Get your hat, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It's below stairs, Sir," said Sam, and he ran down after it. 
 
 Now there was nobody in the kitchen, but the pretty housemaid ; and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 269 
 
 as Sam's hat was mislaid, he had to look for it, and the pretty housemaid 
 lighted him. They had to look all over the place for the hat ; and the 
 pretty housemaid, in her anxiety to find it, went down on her knees, 
 and turned over all the things that were heaped together in a little 
 corner by the door. It was, an awkward corner. You couldn't get at it 
 without shutting the door first. 
 
 " Here it is," said the pretty housemaid. " This is it, ain't it ? " 
 
 " Let me look," said Sam. 
 
 The pretty housemaid had stood the candle on the floor; and as it 
 gave a very dim light, Sam was obliged to go down on his knees before 
 he could see whether it really was his own hat or not. It was a remark- 
 ably small corner, and so it was nobody's fault but the man's who 
 built the house Sam and the pretty housemaid were necessarily very 
 close together. 
 
 " Yes, this is it," said Sam. " Good bye." 
 
 " Good bye," said the pretty housemaid. 
 
 " Good bye," said Sam ; and as he said it, he dropped the hat that 
 had cost so much trouble looking for. 
 
 " How awkward you are," said the pretty housemaid. " You'll lose it 
 again, if you don't take care." 
 
 So just to prevent his losing it again, she put it on for him. 
 
 "Whether it was that the pretty housemaid's face looked prettier still, 
 when it was raised towards Sam's, or whether it was the accidental 
 consequence of their being so near each other, is matter of uncertainty 
 to this day, but Sam kissed her. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you did that on purpose," said the pretty 
 housemaid, blushing. 
 
 " No, I didn't then," said Sam ; " but I will now." 
 
 So he kissed her again. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, calling over the bannisters. 
 
 " Coming, Sir," replied Sam, running up stairs. 
 
 " How long you have been," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " There was something behind the door, Sir, which perwented our 
 getting it open, for ever so long," replied Sam. 
 
 And this was the first passage of Mr. Weller's first love. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 WHICH CONTAINS A BRIEF ACQOUNT OF THE PROGRESS OF THE 
 ACTION OF BARDELL AGAINST PICKWICK. 
 
 HAVING accomplished the main end and object of his journey by 
 the exposure of Jingle, Mr. Pickwick resolved on immediately returning 
 to London, with the view of becoming acquainted with the proceedings 
 which had been taken against him, in the mean time, by Messrs. 
 Dodson and Fogg. Acting upon this resolution with all the energy
 
 270 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and decision of his character, he mounted to the back seat of the 
 first coach, which left Ipswich on the morning after the memorable 
 occurrences detailed at length in the two preceding chapters; and 
 accompanied by his three friends and Mr. Samuel Weller, arrived in 
 the metropolis in perfect health and safety, the same evening. 
 
 Here the friends for a short time separated. Messrs. Tupman, 
 Winkle, and Snodrass, repaired to their several homes to make such 
 preparations as might be requisite for their forthcoming visit to Dingley 
 Dell ; and Mr. Pickwick and Sam took up their present abode in very 
 good, old-fashioned, and comfortable quarters, to wit, the George and 
 Vulture Tavern and Hotel, George Yard, Lombard Street. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had dined, finished his second pint of particular port, 
 pulled his silk handkerchief over his head, put his feet on the fender, 
 and thrown himself back in an easy chair, when the entrance of 
 Mr. Weller with his carpet bag, aroused him from his tranquil medi- 
 tations. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Sir," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I have just been thinking, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " that 
 having left a good many things at Mrs. Bardell's, in Goswell Street, I 
 ought to arrange for taking them away, before I leave town again." 
 
 " Wery good, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I could send them to Mr. Tupman's for the present, Sam," con- 
 tinued- Mr. Pickwick, '< but, before we take them away, it is necessary 
 that they should be looked up, and put together. I wish you would 
 step up to Goswell Street, Sam, and arrange about it." 
 
 "At once, Sir?" inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " At once," replied Mr. Pickwick. " And stay, Sam," added Mr. 
 Pickwick, pulling out his purse, " There is some rent to pay. The 
 quarter is not due till Christmas, but you may pay it, and have done 
 with it. A month's notice terminates my tenancy. Here it-is, written 
 out. Give it, and tell Mrs. Bardell she may put a bill up, as soon as 
 she likes." 
 
 " W T ery good, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; " anythin' more, Sir?" 
 
 " Nothing more, Sam." 
 
 Mr. Weller stepped slowly to the door, as if he expected something 
 further ; slowly opened it, slowly stepped out, and had slowly closed it 
 within a couple of inches, when Mr. Pickwick called out 
 
 " Sam." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," said Mr. Weller, stepping quickly back, and closing the 
 door behind him. 
 
 " I have no objection, Sam, to your endeavouring to ascertain how 
 Mrs. Bardell herself, seems disposed towards me, and whether it is 
 really probable that this vile and groundless action is to be carried to 
 extremity. I say I do not object to your doing this, if you wish it, 
 Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Sam gave a short nod of intelligence, and left the room. Mr. Pick- 
 wick drew the silk handkerchief once more over his head, and composed 
 himself for a nap ; Mr. Weller promptly walked forth, to execute his 
 commission.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 271 
 
 It was nearly nine o'clock when he reached Goswell Street. A 
 couple of candles were burning in the little front parlour, and a couple 
 of caps were reflected on thu window-blind. Mrs. Bardell had got 
 company. 
 
 Mr. Weller knocked at the door, and after a pretty long interval 
 occupied by the party without, in whistling a tune, and by the party 
 within, in persuading a refractory flat candle to allow itself to be lighted 
 a pair of small boots pattered over the floor-cloth, and Master Bardell 
 presented himself. 
 
 "Veil, young townskip," said Sam, "how's mother?" 
 
 " She's pretty well," replied Master Bardell, " so am I." 
 
 " Veil, that's a mercy," said Sam ; " tell her I want to speak to her, 
 my hinfant fernomenon." 
 
 Master Bardell, thus adjured, placed the refractory flat candle on the 
 bottom stair, and vanished into the front parlour with his message. 
 
 The two caps reflected on the window-blind, were the respective 
 Lead-dresses of a couple of Mrs. Bardell's most particular acquaintance, 
 who had just stepped in, to have a quiet cup of tea, and a little warm, 
 supper of a couple of sets of pettitoes and some toasted cheese. The 
 cheese was simmering and browning away, most delightfully, in a little 
 Dutch oven before the fire, and the pettitoes were getting on deliciously 
 in a little tin saucepan on the hob; and Mrs. Bardell and her two friends 
 were getting on very well, also, in a little quiet conversation about and 
 concerning all their particular friends and acquaintance, when Master 
 Bardell came back from answering the door, and delivered the message 
 entrusted to him by Mr. Samuel \V T eller. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick's servant ! " said Mrs. Bardell, turning pale. 
 
 " Bless my soul !" said Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 " Well, I raly would not ha' believed it, unless I had ha' happened 
 to ha' been here ! " said Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 Mrs. Cluppins was a little brisk, busy-looking woman : and Mrs. 
 Sanders was a big, fat, heavy-faced personage ; and the two were the 
 company. 
 
 Mrs. Bardell felt it proper to be agitated ; and as none of the three 
 exactly knew whether, under existing circumstances, any communica- 
 tion, otherwise than through Dodson and Fogg, ought to be held with 
 Mr. Pickwick's servant, they were all rather taken by surprise. In this 
 state of indecision, obviously the first thing to be done, was to thump 
 the boy for finding Mr. Weller at the door. So his mother thumped 
 him, and he cried melodiously. 
 
 " Hold your noise do you naughty creetur," said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " Yes; don't worrit your poor mother," said Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 " She's quite enough to worrit her, as it is, without you, Tommy," 
 said Mrs. Cluppins, with sympathising resignation. 
 
 " Ah ! worse luck, poor lamb ! " said Mrs. Sanders. 
 . At all which moral reflections, Master Bardell howled the louder. 
 
 " Now, what shall I do?" said Mrs. Bardell to Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 " / think you ought to see him," replied Mrs. Cluppins. " But on 
 no account without a witness."
 
 272 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " / think two witnesses would be more lawful," said Mrs. Sanders, 
 who, like the other friend, was bursting- with curiosity. 
 
 " Perhaps, he'd better come in here," said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " To be sure," replied Mrs. Cluppins, eagerly catching- at the idea 
 " Walk in, young- man ; and shut the street door first, please." 
 
 Mr.Weller immediately took the hint; and presenting- himself in the 
 parlour, explained his business to Mrs. Bardell, thus 
 
 " Wery sorry to 'casion any personal inconvenience, Ma'am, as the 
 housebreaker said to the old lady vhen he put her on the fire; but as 
 me and my governor's only just come to town, and is just going- away 
 agin, it can't be helped you see." 
 
 " Of course, the young man can't help the faults of his master," said 
 Mrs. Cluppins, much struck by Mr. Weller's appearance and conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " Certainly not," chimed in Mrs. Sanders, who, from certain wistful 
 glances at the little tin sauce-pan, seemed to be engaged in a mental 
 calculation of the probable extent of the pettitoes, in the event of 
 Sam's being asked to stop supper. 
 
 " So all I've come about, is just this here," said Sam, disregarding 
 the interruption " First, to give my governor's notice there it is. 
 Secondly, to pay the rent here it is. Thirdly, to say as all his things 
 is to be put together, and given to any body as we sends for 'em. 
 Fourthly, that you may let the place as soon as you like and that's all." 
 
 " Whatever has happened,'' said Mrs. Bardell, " I always have said 
 and always will say, that in every respect but one, Mr. Pickwick has 
 always behaved himself like a perfect gentleman. His money always 
 was as good as the bank always." 
 
 As Mrs. Bardell said this, she applied her handkerchief to her eyes, 
 and went out of the room to get the receipt. 
 
 Sam well knew that he had only to remain quiet, and the women 
 were sure to talk, so he looked alternately at the tin saucepan, the 
 toasted cheese, the wall, and the ceiling, in profound silence. 
 
 " Poor dear!" said Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 " Ah, poor thing!" replied Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 Sam said nothing. He saw they were coming to the subject. 
 
 " I raly cannot contain myself," said Mrs. Cluppins, " when I 
 think of such perjury. I don't wish to say anything to make you 
 uncomfortable, young man, but your master's an old brute, and I wish 
 I had him here to tell him so." 
 
 ' I vish you had," said Sam. 
 
 " To see how dreadful she takes on, going moping about, and taking 
 no pleasure in nothing, except when her friends comes in, out of charity, 
 to sit with her, and make her comfortable," resumed Mrs. Cluppins, 
 glancing at the tin saucepan and the Dutch oven, " it's shocking." 
 
 " Barbareous," said Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 " And your master, young man, a gentleman with money, as could 
 never feel the expense of a wife, no more than nothing," continued 
 Mrs. Cluppins, with great volubility ; " why there ain't the faintest 
 shade of an excuse for his behaviour. Why don't he marry her?"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 273 
 
 " Ah," said Sam, " to be sure ; that's the question." 
 
 " Question, indeed," retorted Mrs. Cluppins ; " she'd question him, 
 if she'd my spirit. Hows'ever, there is law for us women, mis'rable 
 creeturs as they'd make us, if they could; and that your master will find 
 out, young man, to his cost, afore he's six months older." 
 
 At this consolatory reflection, Mrs. Cluppins bridled up, and smiled 
 at Mrs. Sanders, who smiled back again. 
 
 " The action's going- on, and no mistake," thought Sam, as Mrs. 
 Bardell re-entered with the receipt. 
 
 " Here's the receipt, Mr. Weller," said Mrs. Bardell, " and here's 
 the change, and I hope you'll take a little drop of something to keep 
 the cold out, if it's only for old acquaintance' sake, Mr. Weller." 
 
 Sam saw the advantage he should gain, and at once acquiesced, 
 whereupon Mrs. Bardell produced from a small closet a black bottle 
 and a wine glass, and so great was her abstraction in her deep mental 
 affliction, that, after filling Mr. Weller's glass, she brought out three 
 more wine glasses, and filled them too. 
 
 " Lauk, Mrs. Bardell," said Mrs. Cluppins, "see what you've been 
 and done." 
 
 " Well, that is a good one !" ejaculated Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 " Ah, my poor head !" said Mrs. Bardell, with a faint smile. 
 
 Sam understood all this, of course, so he said at once, that he never 
 could drink before supper, unless a lady drank with him. A great deal 
 of laughing ensued, and then Mrs. Sanders volunteered to hiimour him, 
 so she took a slight sip out of her glass. Then Sam said it must go all 
 round, so they all took a slight sip. Then little Mrs. Cluppins pro- 
 posed as a toast, "Success to Bardell against Pickwick;" and then 
 the ladies emptied their glasses in honour of the sentiment, and got very 
 talkative directly. 
 
 " I suppose you've heard what's going forward, Mr. Weller," said 
 Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " I've heerd somethin' on it," replied Sam. 
 
 " It's a terrible thing to be dragged before the public, in that way, 
 Mr. Weller," said Mrs. Bardell ; " but I see now, that it's the only 
 thing I ought to do, and my lawyers, Mr. Dodson and Fogg, tell 
 me that, with the evidence as we shall call, we must succeed. I don't 
 know what 1 should do, Mr. Weller, if I didn't." 
 
 The mere idea of Mrs. Bardell's failing in her action, affected Mrs. 
 Sanders so deeply, that she was under the necessity of re-filling and 
 re-emptying her glass immediately ; feeling, as she said afterwards, that 
 if she hadn't had the presence of mind to have done so, she must have 
 dropped. 
 
 " Ven is it expected to come on ? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " Either in February or March," replied Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " What a number of witnesses there'll be, won't there ? " said Mrs. 
 Cluppins. 
 
 " Ah, won't there ! " replied Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 " And won't Mr. Dodson and Fogg be wild if the plaintiff shouldn't 
 get it ?" added Mrs. Cluppins, " when they do it all on speculation ! "
 
 274 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Ah ! won't they I " said Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 ' But the plaintiff must get it," resumed Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 ' I hope so," said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 ' Oh, there can't be any doubt about it," rejoined Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 ' Veil," said Sam, rising and setting clown his glass. " All I can 
 say is, that I vish you may get it." 
 
 ' Thanke'e, Mr. Weller," said Mrs. Bardell, fervently. 
 
 ' And of them Dodson and Fogg, as does these sort o' things on 
 spec," continued Mr. Weller, " as veil as for the other kind and gen'- 
 rous people o'the same purfession, as sets people by the ears free gratis 
 for nothin', and sets their clerks to work to find out little disputes 
 among their neighbours and acquaintance as vants settlin' by means o' 
 law-suits all I can say o' them is, that I vish they had the revard I'd 
 give 'em." 
 
 " Ah, I wish they had the reward that every kind and generous heart 
 would be inclined to bestow upon them," said the gratified Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " Amen to that," replied Sam, " and a fat and happv livin' they'd 
 get out of it. Vish you good night, ladies." 
 
 To the great relief of Mrs. Sanders, Sam was allowed to depart, 
 without any t reference on the part of the hostess to the pettitoes and 
 toasted cheese, to which the ladies, with such juvenile assistance as 
 Master Bardell could afford, soon afterwards rendered the amplest justice 
 indeed they wholly vanished, before their strenuous exertions. 
 
 Mr. Weller wended his way back to the George and Vulture, and 
 faithfully recounted to his master, such indications of the sharp practice 
 of Dodson and Fogg, as he had contrived to pick up in his visit to Mrs. 
 Bardell's. An interview with Mr. Perker next day, more than con- 
 firmed Mr. Weller's statement ; and Mr. Pickwick was fain to prepare 
 for his Christmas visit to Dingley Dell, with the pleasant anticipation 
 that some two or three months afterwards, an action brought against 
 him for damages sustained by reason of a breach of promise of marriage, 
 would be publicly tried in the Court of Common Pleas ; the plaintiff 
 having all the advantages derivable not only from the force of circum- 
 stances, but from the sharp practice of Dodson and Fogg to boot.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 275 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 SAMUEL WELLER MAKES A PILGRIMAGE TO DORKING, AND 
 BEHOLDS HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW. 
 
 THERE still remaining an interval of two days, before the time agreed 
 upon, for the departure of the Pickwickians to Dingley Dell, Mr. Weller 
 sat himself down in a back room at the George and Vulture, after eating 
 an early dinner, to muse on the best way of disposing of his time. It 
 was a remarkably fine day ; and he had not turned the matter over in 
 his mind ten minutes, when he was suddenly struck filial and affectionate ; 
 and it occurred to him so strongly that he ought to go down to see his 
 father, and pay his duty to his mother-in-law, that he was lost in aston- 
 ishment at his own remissness in never thinking of this moral obligation 
 before. Anxious to atone for his past neglect without another hour's 
 delay, he straightway walked up stairs to Mr. Pickwick, and requested 
 leave of absence for this laudable purpose. 
 
 " Certainly, Sam, certainly," said Mr. Pickwick, his eyes glistening 
 with delight at this manifestation of good feeling, on the part of his at- 
 tendant ; " certainly, Sara." 
 
 Mr. Weller made a grateful bow. 
 
 " I am very glad to see that you have so high a sense of your duties 
 as a son, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I always had, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " That's a very gratifying reflection, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 approvingly. 
 
 " Wery, Sir," replied Mr. Weller; " if ever I vanted anythin' o' my 
 father, I always asked for it in a wery 'spectful and obligin' manner. If 
 he didn't give it me, I took it, for fear I should be led to do anythin' 
 wrong, through not havin' it. I saved him a world o' trouble this vay, 
 Sir." 
 
 " That's not precisely what I meant, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 shaking his head, with a slight smile. 
 
 " All good feelin', Sir the wery best intentions, as the gen'lm'n said 
 ven he run away from his wife, 'cos she seemed unhappy with him," 
 replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " You may go, Sara," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Thank'ee, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; and having made his best 
 bow, and put on his best clothes, Sam planted himself on the top of the 
 Arundel coach, and journeyed on to Dorking. 
 
 The Marquis of Granby, in Mrs. Weller's time, was quite a model of 
 a road-side public-house of the better class just large enough to be 
 convenient, and small enough to be snug. On the opposite side of the 
 road was a large sign-board on a high post, representing the head and 
 shoulders of a gentleman with an apoplectic countenance, in a red coat, 
 with deep blue facings, and a touch of the same over his three-cornered
 
 276 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 hat, for a sky. Over that again, were a pair of flags, and beneath the 
 last button of his coat were a couple of cannon ; and the whole formed 
 an expressive and undoubted likeness of the Marquis of Granby of 
 glorious memory. The bar window displayed a choice collection of 
 geranium plants, and a well-dusted row of spirit phials. The open 
 shutters bore a variety of golden inscriptions, eulogistic of good beds 
 and neat wines ; and the choice group of countrymen and hostlers 
 lounging about the stable-door and horse-trough, afforded presumptive 
 proof of the excellent quality of the ale and spirits which were sold 
 within. Sam Weller paused, when he dismounted from the coach, to 
 note all these little indications of a thriving business, with the eye of 
 an experienced traveller; and having done so, stepped in at once, highly 
 satisfied with everything he had observed. 
 
 " Now, then," said a shrill female voice, the instant Sam thrust in 
 his head at the door, " what do you want, young man ?" 
 
 Sam looked round in the direction whence the voice proceeded. It 
 came from a rather stout lady of comfortable appearance, who was seated 
 beside the fire-place in the bar, blowing the fire to make the kettle boil 
 for tea. She was not alone, for on the other side of the fire-place, sitting 
 bolt upright in a high-backed chair, was a man in thread-bare black 
 clothes, with a back almost as long and stiff as that of the chair itself, 
 who caught Sam's most particular and especial attention at once. 
 
 He was a prim-faced, red-nosed man, with a long thin countenance 
 and a semi-rattlesnake sort of eye rather sharp, but decidedly bad. He 
 wore very short trousers, and black-cotton stockings, which, like the 
 rest of his apparel, were particularly rustv. His looks were starched, 
 but his white neckerchief was not ; and its long limp ends straggled over 
 his closely-buttoned waistcoat in a very uncouth and unpicturesque 
 fashion. A pair of old, worn, beaver gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, and 
 a faded green umbrella, with plenty of whalebone sticking through the 
 bottom, as if to counterbalance the want of a handle at the top, lay on 
 a chair beside him ; and being disposed in a very tidy and careful man- 
 ner, seemed to imply that the red-nosed man, whoever he was, had no 
 intention of going away in a hurry. 
 
 To do the red-nosed man justice, he vrould have been very far from 
 wise if he had entertained any such intention, for, to judge from all ap- 
 pearances, he must have been possessed of a most desirable circle of ac- 
 quaintance, if he could have reasonably expected to be more comfortable 
 anywhere else. The fire was blazing brightly, under the influence of 
 the bellows, and the kettle was singing gaily, under the influence of 
 both. A small tray of tea-things was arranged on the table ; a plate 
 of hot buttered toast was gently simmering before the fire ; and the 
 red-nosed man himself was busily engaged in converting a large slice* 
 of bread, into the same agreeable edible, through the instrumentality of 
 a long brass toasting-fork. Beside him, stood a glass of reeking hot 
 pine-apple rum and water, with a slice of lemon in it: and every time 
 the red-nosed man stopped to bring the round of bread to his eye, with 
 the view of ascertaining how it got on, he imbibed a drop or two of the 
 hot pine-apple rum and water, and smiled upon the rather stout lady, as 
 she blew the fire.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 277 
 
 Sam was so lost in the contemplation of this comfortable scene, that 
 he suffered the first inquiry of the rather stout lady to pass wholly un- 
 heeded. It was not until it had been twice repeated, each time in a 
 shriller tone, that he became conscious of the impropriety of his 
 behaviour. 
 
 " Governor in ?" inquired Sam, in reply to the question. 
 
 " No, he isn't," replied Mrs. Weller, for the rather stout lady was 
 no other than the quondam relict and sole executrix of the dead-and- 
 gone Mr. Clarke; " No. he isn't, and I don't expect him, either." 
 
 " I suppose he's a drivin' up to-day?" said Sam. 
 
 " He may be, or he may not," replied Mrs. Weller, buttering- the 
 round of toast which the red-nosed man had just finished, " I don't 
 know, and, what's more, I don't care. Ask a blessin', Mr. Stiggins." 
 
 The red-nosed man did as he was desired, and instantly commenced 
 on the toast with fierce voracity. 
 
 The appearance of the red-nosed man had induced Sam, at first sight, 
 to more than half suspect that he was the deputy shepherd, of whom 
 his estimable parent had spoken. The moment he saw him eat, all 
 doubt on the subject was removed, and he perceived at once that if he 
 proposed to take up his temporary quarters where he was, he must make 
 his footing good without delay. He therefore commenced proceedings 
 by putting his arm over the half-door of the bar, coolly unbolting it, 
 and leisurely walking in. 
 
 " Mother-in-law," said Sam, " how are you ?" 
 
 " Why, I do believe he is a Weller," said Mrs. W., raising her eyes 
 to Sam's face, with no very gratified expression of countenance. 
 
 " I ray t her think he is," said the imperturbable Sam ; " and I hope 
 this here reverend gen'lm'n '11 excuse me saying that I wish I was the 
 Weller as owns you, mother-in-law." 
 
 This was a double-barrelled compliment : it implied that Mrs. Weller 
 was a most agreeable female, and also that Mr. Stiggins had a clerical 
 appearance. It made a visible impression at once ; and Sam followed 
 up his advantage by kissing his mother-in-law. 
 
 " Get along with you," said Mrs. Weller, pushing him away. 
 
 " For shame, young man," said the gentleman with the red nose. 
 
 "No offence, Sir, no offence," replied Sam; " you're wery right, 
 though ; it ain't the right sort o' thing, ven mothers-in-law is young 
 and good looking, is it, Sir?" 
 
 " It's all vanity," said Mr. Stiggins. 
 
 " Ah, so it is," said Mrs. Weller, setting her cap to rights. 
 
 Sam thought it was, too, but he held his peace. 
 
 The deputy shepherd seemed by no means best pleased with Sam's 
 arrival ; and when the first effervescence of the compliment had sub- 
 sided, even Mrs. Weller looked as if she could have spared him without 
 the smallest inconvenience. However, there he was ; and as he couldn't 
 be decently turned out, they all three sat down to tea. 
 
 " And how's father ?" said Sam. 
 
 At this inquiry, Mrs. Weller raised her hands, and turned up her 
 eyes, as if the subject were too painful to be alluded to. 
 Y '2
 
 278 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Stiggins groaned. 
 
 " What's the matter with that 'ere gen'lm'n ? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " He's shocked at the way your father goes on, in " replied Mrs. 
 Wetter. 
 
 " Oh, he is, is he?" said Sam. 
 
 " And with too good reason," added Mrs. Weller, gravely. 
 
 Mr. Stiggins took up a fresh piece of toast, and groaned heavily. 
 
 " He is a dreadful reprobate," said Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " A man of wrath !" exclaimed Mr. Stiggins. And he took a large 
 semi-circular bite out of the toast, and groaned again. 
 
 Sam felt very strongly disposed to give the reverend Mr. Stiggins 
 something to groan for, but he repressed his inclination, and merely 
 asked, " What's the old 'un up to, now ?" 
 
 "Up to, indeed!" said Mrs. Weller, "oh, he has a hard heart. 
 Night after night does this excellent man don't frown, Mr. Stiggins, 
 I will say you are an excellent man come and sit here, for hours to- 
 gether, and it has not the least effect upon him." 
 
 " Well, that is odd," said Sam ; " it 'ud have a wery considerable 
 effect upon me, if I wos in his place, 1 know that." 
 
 " The fact is, my young friend," said Mr. Stiggins, solemnly, " he 
 has an obderrate bosom. Oh, my young friend, who else could havi- 
 resisted the pleading of sixteen of our fairest sisters, and withstood 
 their exhortations to subscribe to our noble society for providing the 
 infant negroes in the West Indies with flannel waistcoats and moral 
 pocket handkerchiefs?" 
 
 "What's amoral pocket ankercher?" said Sam; " I never see one 
 o' them articles o' furniter." 
 
 " Those which combine amusement with instruction, my young 
 friend," replied Mr. Stiggins, "blending select tales with wood-cuts." 
 
 " Oh, I know," said Sam, " them as hangs up in the linen-drapers' 
 shops, with beggars' petitions and all that 'ere upon 'em ? " . 
 
 Mr. Stiggins began a third round of toast, and nodded assent. 
 
 " And he wouldn't be persuaded by the ladies, wouldn't he ? " said 
 Sam. 
 
 " Sat and smoked his pipe, and said the infant negroes were what 
 did he say the infant negroes were ?" said Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " Little humbugs," replied Mr. Stiggins, deeply affected. 
 
 " Said the infant negroes were little humbugs," repeated Mrs. Weller. 
 And they both groaned at the atrocious conduct of the elder Mr. 
 Samuel. 
 
 A great many more iniquities of a similar nature might have been 
 disclosed, only the toast being all eat, the tea having got very weak, 
 and Sam holding out no indications of meaning to go, Mr. Stiggins 
 suddenly recollected that he had a most pressing appointment with the 
 shepherd, and took himself off accordingly. 
 
 The tea-things had been scarcely put away, and the hearth swept up, 
 when the London coach deposited Mr. Weller senior at the door, his 
 legs deposited him in the bar, and his eyes shewed him his son. 
 
 " What, Sammy ! " exclaimed the father.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 279 
 
 " What, old Nobs ! '' ejaculated the son. And they shook hands 
 heartily. 
 
 " Wery glad to see you, Samray," said the elder Mr. Weller, " though 
 how you've managed to get over your mother-in-law, is a mystery to 
 me. I only vish you'd write me out the receipt, that's all." 
 " Hush ! " said Sam, " she's at home, old feller." 
 " She ain't vithin hearin'," replied Mr. WeJler ; " she always goes 
 and blows up, down stairs, for a couple of hours arter tea; so we'll just 
 give ourselves a damp, Sammy." 
 
 Saying this, Mr. Weller mixed two glasses of spirits and water, and 
 produced a couple of pipes ; and the father and son sitting down oppo- 
 site each other, Sam on one side the fire, in the high-backed chair, and 
 Mr. Weller senior on the other, in an easy ditto, they proceeded to 
 enjoy themselves with all due gravity. 
 
 "Anybody been here, Sammy?" asked Mr. Weller senior, drily, 
 after a long silence. 
 
 Sam nodded an expressive assent. 
 " Red-nosed chap? " inquired Mr. Weller. 
 Sam nodded again. 
 
 " Amiable man that 'ere, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, smoking 
 violently. 
 
 " Seems so/' observed Sam. 
 " Good hand at accounts," said Mr. Weller. 
 " Is he?" said Sam. 
 
 " Borrows eighteenpence on Monday, and comes on Tuesday for a 
 shillin' to make it up half a crown ; calls again on Vensday for another 
 half crown to make it five shillin's, and goes on, doubling, till he gets it 
 up to a five pund note in no time, like them sums in the 'rithmetic 
 book 'bout the nails in the horse's shoes, Sammy." 
 
 Sam intimated by a nod that he recollected the problem alluded to by 
 his parent. 
 
 " So you vouldn't subscribe to the flannel veskits?" said Sam, after 
 another interval of smoking. 
 
 " Cert'nly not," replied Mr. Weller ; " what's the good o' flannel 
 veskits to the young niggers abroad ? But I'll tell you what it is, 
 Sammy," said .Air. Weller, lowering his voice, and bending across the 
 fire-place, " I'd come down wery handsome towards straight veskits for 
 some people at home." 
 
 As Mr. Weller said this, he slowly recovered his former position, and 
 winked at his first-born, in a profound manner. 
 
 " It cert'nly seems a queer start to send out pocket ankechers to 
 people as don't know the use on 'em," observed Sam. 
 
 " They're alvays a doin' some gammon of that sort, Sammy," replied 
 his father. " T'other Sunday I vas walkin' up the road, ven who 
 should I see a standin' at a chapel-door, with a blue soup-plate in her 
 hand, but your mother-in-law. I werily believe there was change for a 
 couple o' suv'rins in it, then, Sammy, all in ha'pence ; and as the people 
 come out, they rattled the pennies in, till you'd ha' thought that no
 
 280 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 mortal plate as ever \vas baked, conlcl ha' stood the wear and tear. What 
 d'ye think it was all for ? " 
 
 " For another tea-drinkin', perhaps," said Sam. 
 
 " Not a bit on it," replied the father ; " for the shepherd's water- 
 rate, Sammy." 
 
 " The shepherd's water-rate!" said Sam. 
 
 " Ay," replied Mr. Weller, " there was three quarters owin', and the 
 shepherd hadn't paid a farden, not he perhaps it might be on account 
 that the water warn't o' much use to him, for it's wery little o' that tap 
 he drinks, Sammy, wery ; he knows a trick worth a good half dozen of 
 that, he does. Hows'ever, it warn't paid, and so they cuts the water off. 
 Down goes the shepherd to chapel, gives out as he's a persecuted saint, 
 and says he hopes the heart of the turncock as cut the water off, '11 he 
 softened, and turned in the right vay, but he rayther thinks he's booked 
 for somethin' uncomfortable. Upon this, the women calls a meetin', 
 sings a hymn, wotes your mother-in-law into the chair, wolunteers a 
 col-lection next Sunday, and hands it all over to the shepherd. And 
 if he ain't got enough out on 'em, Sammy, to make him free of the 
 water company for life," said Mr. Weller, in conclusion, " I'm one 
 Dutchman, and you're another, and that's all about it." 
 
 Mr. Weller smoked for some minutes in silence, and then resumed 
 
 " The worst o' these here shepherds is, my boy, that they reg'larly 
 turns the heads of all the young ladies, about here. Lord bless their 
 little hearts, they thinks it's all right, and don't know no better ; but 
 they're the wictims o' gammon, Samivel, they're the wictims o' gammon." 
 
 " I s'pose they are," said Sam. 
 
 " Nothin' else," said Mr. Weller, shaking his head gravely ; " and 
 wot aggrawates me, Samivel, is to see 'em a wastin' all their time and 
 labour in making clothes for copper-coloured people as don't want 'em, 
 and taking no notice of the flesh-coloured Christians as do. If I'd my 
 vay, Samivel, I'd just stick some o' these here lazy shepherds behind a 
 heavy wheelbarrow, and run 'em up and down a fourteen-inch-wide 
 plank all day. That 'ud shake the nonsense out of 'em, if anythin' 
 vould." 
 
 Mr. Weller having delivered this gentle recipe with strong emphasis, 
 eked out by a variety of nods and contortions of the eye, emptied his 
 glass at a draught, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe, with native 
 dignity. 
 
 He was engaged in this operation, when a shrill voice was heard in 
 the passage. 
 
 " Here's your dear relation, Sammy," said Mr. Weller; and Mrs. W. 
 hurried into the room. 
 
 " Oh, you've come back, have you !" said Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " Yes, my dear," replied Mr. Weller, rilling a fresh pipe. 
 
 " Has Mr. Stiggins been back ? " said Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " No, my dear, he hasn't," replied Mr. Weller, lighting the pipe by 
 the ingenious process of hokling to the bowl thereof, between the tongs, 
 a red-hot coal from the adjacent fire ; " and what's more, my dear, I 
 shall manage to surwive it, if he don't come back at all."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 281 
 
 " Ugh, you wretch," said Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " Thank ee, ray love," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Come, come, father," said Sam, " none o' these little lovin's afore 
 strangers. Here's the reverend gen'lm'n a cornin' in now." 
 
 At this announcement, Mrs. Weller hastily wiped off the tears which 
 she had just begun to force on ; and Mr. W. drew his chair sullenly 
 into the chimney corner. 
 
 Mr. Stiggins was easily prevailed on, to take another glass of the hot 
 pine-apple rum and water, and a second, and a third, and then to refresh 
 himself with a slight supper, previous to beginning again. He sat on 
 the same side as Mr. Weller senior ; and every time he could contrive 
 to do so, unseen by his wife, that gentleman indicated to his son the 
 hidden emotions of his bosom, by shaking his fist over the deputy 
 shepherd's head, a process which afforded his son the most unmingled 
 delight and satisfaction, the more especially as Mr. Stiggins went on, 
 quietly drinking the hot pine-apple rum and water, wholly unconscious 
 of what was going forward. 
 
 The major part of the conversation was confined to Mrs. Weller and 
 the reverend Mr. Stiggins ; and the topics principally descanted on, were 
 the virtues of the shepherd, the worthiness of his flock, and the high 
 crimes and misdemeanours of everybody beside dissertations which the 
 elder Mr. Weller occasionally interrupted by half-s\ippressed references 
 to a g-entleman of the name of Walker, and other running commentaries 
 of the same kind. 
 
 '!! At length Mr. Stiggins, with several most indubitable symptoms of 
 having quite as much pine-apple rum and water about him, as he could 
 comfortably accommodate, took his hat and his leave : and Sam was, im- 
 mediately afterwards, shewn to bed by his father. The respectable old 
 gentleman wrung his hand fervently, and seemed disposed to address 
 some observations to his son, but on Mrs. Weller advancing towards 
 him, he appeared to relinquish his intention, and abruptly bade him 
 good night. 
 
 Sam was up betimes next day, and having partaken of a hasty break- 
 fast, prepared to return to London. He had scarcely set foot without 
 the house, when his father stood before him. 
 
 " Goin', Sammy ?" inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Off at once," replied Sam. 
 
 " I vish you could muffle that 'ere Stiggins, and take him with you," 
 said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I am ashamed o' you, old two-for-his-heels," said Sam, reproach- 
 fully, " what do you let him shew his red nose in the Markis o' Granby 
 at all, for ? " 
 
 Mr. Weller the elder fixed on his son an earnest look, and replied 
 " 'Cause I'm a married man, Samivel, 'cause I'm a married man. 
 Yen you're a married man, Samivel, you'll understand a good many 
 things as you don't understand now ; but vether it's worth while goin' 
 through so much, to learn so little, as the charity-boy said ven he got 
 to the end of the alphabet, is a matter o' taste. / rayther think it 
 isn't."
 
 282 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Well," said Sam, " good bye." 
 
 " Tar, tar, Sammy," replied his father. 
 
 " I've only got to say this here," said Sam, stopping short, " that if 
 /was the properiator o' the Markis o' Granby, and that 'ere Stiggins 
 came and made toast in my bar, I'd " 
 
 " What ?" interposed Mr. Weller, with great anxiety. " What ? " 
 
 " Pison his rum and water," said Sam. 
 
 " No !" said Mr. Weller, shaking his son eagerly by the hand, 
 " would you raly, Sammy would you, though ?" 
 
 " I would," said Sam. " I wouldn't be too hard upon him, at first : 
 I'd just drop him in the water-butt, and put the lid on ; and then if I 
 found he was insensible to kindness, I'd try the other persvasion." 
 
 The elder Mr. Weller bestowed a look of deep, unspeakable admira- 
 tion on his son, and, having once more grasped his hand, walked slowly 
 away, revolving in his mind the numerous reflections to which his advice 
 had given rise. 
 
 Sam looked after him, till he turned a corner of the road, and then 
 set forward on his walk to London. He meditated at first on the pro- 
 bable consequences of his own advice, and the likelihood and unlike- 
 lihood of his father's adopting it. He dismissed the subject from his 
 mind, however, with the consolatory reflection that time alone would 
 shew ; and this is just the reflection we would impress upon the reader. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL 
 
 A GOOD-HUMOURED CHRISTMAS CHAPTER, CONTAINING AN AC- 
 COUNT OF A WEDDING, AND SOME OTHER SPORTS BESIDE, 
 WHICH ALTHOUGH IN THEIR WAY, EVEN AS GOOD CUSTOMS 
 AS MARRIAGE ITSELF, ARE NOT QUITE SO RELIGIOUSLY KEPT 
 UP, IN THESE DEGENERATE TIMES. 
 
 As brisk as bees, if not altogether as light as fairies, did the four 
 Pickwickians assemble on the morning of the twenty-second day of 
 December, in the year of grace in which these, their faithfully-recorded 
 adventures, were undertaken and accomplished. Christmas was close 
 at hand, in all his bluff and hearty honesty ; it was the season of 
 hospitality, merriment, and open-heartedness , the old year was pre- 
 paring, like an ancient philosopher, to call his friends around him, and 
 amidst the sound of feasting and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. 
 Gay and merry was the time ; and right gay and merry were at least 
 four of the numerous hearts that were gladdened by its coming. 
 
 And numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas brings a 
 brief season of happiness and enjoyment. How many families whose 
 members have been dispersed and scattered far and wide, in the restless 
 struggles of life, are then re-united, and meet once again in that happy 
 state of companionship and mutual good-will, which is a source of such 
 pure and unalloyed delight, and one so incompatible with the cares and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 283 
 
 sorrows of the world, that the religions helief of the most civilised 
 nations, and the rude traditions of the roughest savages, alike number 
 it among the first joys of a future state of existence, provided for the 
 blest and happy ! How many old recollections, and how many dor- 
 mant sympathies, does Christmas time awaken ! 
 
 We write these words now, many miles distant from the spot at which, 
 year after year, we met on that day, a merry and joyous circle. Many 
 of the hearts that throbbed so gaily then, have ceased to heat; many of 
 the looks that shone so brightly then, have ceased to glow ; the hands 
 we grasped, have grown cold ; the eyes we sought, have hid their lustre 
 in the grave ; and yet the old house, the room, the merry voices and 
 smiling faces, the jest, the laugh, the most minute and trivial circum- 
 stance connected with those happy meetings, crowd upon our mind at 
 each recurrence of the season, as if the last assemblage had been but 
 yesterday. Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the 
 delusions of our childish days, that can recal to the old man the pleasures 
 of his youth, and transport the sailor and the traveller, thousands of 
 miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home ! 
 
 But we are so taken up, and occupied, with the good qualities of 
 Christmas, who, by the way, is quite a country gentleman of the old 
 school, that we are keeping Mr. Pickwick and his friends waiting in the 
 cold, on the outside of the Muggleton coach, which they have just 
 attained, well \vrapped up, in great coats, shawls, and comforters. The 
 portmanteaus and carpet-bags have been stowed away, and Mr. Weller 
 and the guard are endeavouring to insinuate into the fore-boot a huge 
 cod-fish several sizes too large for it, which is snugly packed up, in a 
 long brown basket, with a layer of straw over the top, and which has 
 been left to the last, in order that he may repose in safety on the half- 
 dozen barrels of real native oysters, all the property of Mr. Pickwick, 
 which have been arranged in regular order, at the bottom of the recep- 
 tacle. The interest displayed in Mr. Pickwick's countenance is most 
 intense, as Mr. Weller and the guard try to squeeze the cod-fish into 
 the boot, first head first, and then tail first, and then top upwards, and 
 then bottom upwards, and then side-ways, and then long-ways, all of 
 which artifices the implacable cod-fish sturdily resists, until the guard 
 accidentally hits him in the very middle of the basket, whereupon he 
 suddenly disappears into the boot, and with him, the head and shoulders 
 of the guard himself, who, not calculating upon so sudden a cessation 
 of the passive resistance of the cod-fish, experiences a very unexpected 
 shock, to the unsmotherable delight of all the porters and by-standers. 
 Upon this, Mr. Pickwick smiles with great good humour, and drawing 
 a shilling from his waistcoat pocket, begs the guard, as he picks himself 
 out of the boot, to drink his health in a glass of hot brandy and water, 
 at which, the guard smiles too, and Messrs. Snodgrass, Winkle, and 
 Tupman, all smile in company. The guard and Mr. Weller disappear 
 for five minutes, most probably to get the hot brandy and water, for 
 they smell very strongly of it, when they return, the coachman mounts 
 to the box, Mr. Weller jumps up behind, the Pickwickians pull their 
 coats round their legs, and their shawls over their noses ; the helpers
 
 284 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 pull the horse-cloths off, the coachman shouts out a cheery " All right," 
 and away they go. 
 
 They have rumbled through the streets, and jolted over the stones, 
 and at length reach the wide and open country. The wheels skim over 
 the hard and frosty ground ; and the horses, bursting into a canter at a 
 smart crack of the whip, step along the road as if the load behind them, 
 coach, passengers, cod-fish, oyster barrels, and all, were but a feather at 
 their heels. They have descended a gentle slope, and enter upon a 
 level, as compact and dry as a solid block of marble, two miles long. 
 Another crack of the whip, and on they speed, at a smart gallop, the 
 horses tossing their heads and rattling the harness as if in exhilaration 
 at the rapidity of the motion, while the coachman holding whip and 
 reins in one hand, takes off his hat with the other, and resting it on his 
 knees, pulls out his handkerchief, and wipes his forehead, partly because 
 he has a habit of doing it, and partly because it's as well to shew the 
 passengers how cool he is, and what an easy thing it is to drive four-in- 
 hand, when you have had as much practice as he has. Having done 
 this very leisurely (otherwise the effect would be materially impaired), 
 he replaces his handkerchief, pulls on his hat, adjusts his gloves, squares 
 his elbows, cracks the whip again, and on they speed, more merrily 
 than before. 
 
 A few small houses scattered on either side of the road, betoken the 
 entrance to some town or village. The lively notes of the guard's key 
 bugle vibrate in the clear cold air, and wake up the old gentleman 
 inside, who carefully letting down the window-sash half way, and 
 standing sentry over the air, takes a short peep out, and then carefully 
 pulling it up again, informs the other inside that they're going to change 
 directly ; on which the other inside wakes himself up, and determines to 
 postpone his next nap until after the stoppage. Again the bugle sounds 
 lustily forth, and rouses the cottager's wife and children, who peep out 
 at the house-door, and watch the coach till it turns the corner, when they 
 once more crouch round the blazing fire, and throw on another log of 
 wood against father comes home, while father himself, a full mile off, 
 has just exchanged a friendly nod with the coachman, and turned round, 
 to take a good long stare at the vehicle as it whirls a\vay. 
 
 And now the bugle plays a lively air as the coach rattles through the 
 ill-paved streets of a country town ; and the coachman, undoing the 
 buckle which keeps his ribands together, prepares to throw them off the 
 moment he stops. Mr. Pickwick emerges from his coat collar, and 
 looks about him with great curiosity ; perceiving which, the coachman 
 informs Mr. Pickwick of the name of the town, and tells him it was 
 market-day yesterday, both which pieces of information Mr. Pickwick 
 retails to his fellow-passengers, whereupon they emerge from their coat 
 collars too, and look about them also. Mr. Winkle, who sits at the 
 extreme edge, with one leg dangling in the air, is nearly precipitated 
 into the street, as the coach twists round the sharp corner by the cheese- 
 monger's shop, and turns into the market-place ; and before Mr. Snod- 
 grass, who sits next to him, has recovered from his alarm, they pull up 
 at the inn yard, where the fresh horses, with ^cloths on, are already
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 285 
 
 waiting. The coachman throws down the reins and gets down himself, 
 and the other outside passengers drop down also, except those who have 
 no great confidence in their ahility to get up again, and they remain 
 whore they are, and stamp their feet against the coach to warm them; 
 looking with longing eyes and red noses at the bright fire in the inn 
 bar, and the sprigs of holly with red berries which ornament the 
 window. 
 
 But the guard has delivered at the corn-dealer's shop, the brown paper 
 packet he took out of the little pouch which hangs over his shoulder 
 by a leathern strap, and has seen the horses carefully put to, and has 
 thrown on the pavement the saddle which was brought from London on 
 the coach-roof, and has assisted in the conference between the coachman 
 and the hostler about the grey mare that hurt her off-fore-leg last Tuesday, 
 and he and Mr. Weller are all right behind, and the coachman is all right 
 in front, and the old gentleman inside, who has kept the window down 
 full two inches all this time, has pulled it up again, and the cloths are 
 off, and they are all ready for starting, except the " two stout gentle- 
 men," whom the coachman enquires after with some impatience. Here- 
 upon the coachman, and the guard, and Sam Weller, and Mr. Winkle, 
 and Mr. Snodgrass, and all the hostlers, and every one of the idlers, 
 who are more in number than all the others put together, shout for the 
 missing gentlemen as loud as they can bawl. A distant response is 
 heard from the yard, and ?Ir. Pickwick and Mr. Tupman come running 
 down it, quite out of breath, for they have been having a glass of ale 
 a-piece, and Mr. Pickwick's fingers are so cold that he has been full five 
 minutes before he could find the sixpence to pay for it. The coachman 
 shouts an admonitory " Now, then, gen'lm'n," the guard re-choes it 
 the old gentleman inside, thinks it a very extraordinary thing that 
 people will get down when they know there isn't time for it Mr. Pick- 
 wick struggles up on one side, Mr. Tupman on the other, Mr. Winkle 
 cries " All right," and off they start. Shawls are pulled up, coat collars 
 are re-adjusted, the pavement ceases, the houses disappear ; and they are 
 once again dashing along the open road, with the fresh clear air blowing- 
 in their faces, and gladdening their very hearts within them. 
 
 Such was the progress of Mr. Pickwick and his friends by the Mug- 
 gleton Telegraph, on their way to Dingley Dell ; and at three o'clock 
 that afternoon, they all stood, high and dry, safe and sound, hale and 
 hearty, upon the steps of the Blue Lion, having taken on the road quite 
 enough of ale and brandy, to enable them to bid defiance to the frost 
 that was binding up the earth in its iron fetters, and weaving its beau- 
 tiful net-work upon the trees and hedges. Mr. Pickwick was busily 
 engaged in counting the barrels of oysters, and superintending the dis- 
 interment of the cod-fish, when he felt himself gently pulled by the 
 skirts of the coat ; and looking round, he discovered that the individual 
 who resorted to this mode of catching his attention, was no other than 
 Mr. Wardle's favourite page, better known to the readers of this unvar- 
 nished history by the distinguishing appellation of the fat boy. 
 
 " Aha ! " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Aha I " said the fat boy.
 
 2b POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 And as he said it, he glanced from the cod-fish to the oyster-barrels, 
 and chuckled joyously. He was fatter than ever. 
 
 " Well, you look rosy enough, my young friend," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 " I've been asleep, right in front of the tap-room fire," replied the fat 
 hoy, who had heated himself to the colour of a new chimney-pot, in the 
 course of an hour's nap. " Master sent me over with the chay-cart, to 
 carry your luggage up to the house. He'd ha' sent some saddle horses, 
 but he thought you'd rather walk, being a cold day." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily, for he remembered how they 
 had travelled over nearly the same ground on a previous occasion. 
 ' Yes, we would rather walk. Here, Sam." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put the packages into the cart, and 
 then ride on with him. We will walk forward at once." 
 
 Having given this direction, and settled with the coachman, Mr. 
 Pickwick and his three friends struck into the footpath across the fields, 
 and walked briskly away, leaving Mr. Weller and the fat boy confronted 
 together for the first time. Sam looked at the fat boy with great asto- 
 nishment, but without saying a word ; and began to stow the things 
 rapidly away in the cart, while the fat boy stood quietly by, and seemed 
 to think it a very interesting sort of thing to see Mr. Weller working 
 by himself. 
 
 " There," said Sam, throwing in the last carpet bag. " There they 
 are." 
 
 " Yes," said the fat boy, in a very satisfied tone, " there they are." 
 
 " Veil, young twenty stun," said Sam, " you're a nice specimen of a 
 prize boy, you are." 
 
 " Thankee," said the fat boy. 
 
 " You ain't got nothin' on your mind, as makes you fret yourself, 
 have you ? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " Not as I knows on," replied the boy. 
 
 " I should rayther ha' thought, to look at you, that you was a la- 
 bourin' under an unrequited attachment to some young *ooman," said 
 Sam. 
 
 The fat boy shook his head. 
 
 ; ' Veil," said Sam, " I'm glad to hear it. Do you ever drink any- 
 thin' ? " 
 
 " I likes eating, better," replied the boy. 
 
 " Ah," said Sam, " I should ha' s'posed that ; but what I mean is, 
 should you like a drop of anythin' as'd warm you? but I s'pose you 
 never was cold, with all them elastic fixtures, was you? " 
 
 " Sometimes," replied the boy ; " and I likes a drop of something, 
 when it's good." 
 
 " Oh, you do, do you ? " said Sam, " come this vay, then." 
 
 The Blue Lion tap was soon gained, and the fat boy swallowed a glass 
 of liquor without so much as winking, a feat which considerably ad- 
 vanced him in Mr. Weller's good opinion. Mr. Weller having transacted 
 a similar piece of business on his own account, they got into the cart. 
 
 " Can you drive ? " said the fat boy.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 287 
 
 " I should rayther think so," replied Sam. 
 
 " There, then," said the fat boy, putting- the reins in his hand, and 
 pointing up a lane, " It's as straight as you can go ; you can't miss it." 
 
 With these words, the fat boy laid himself affectionately down by the 
 side of the cod-fish, and placing an oyster-barrel under his head for a 
 pillow, fell asleep instantaneously. 
 
 " Veil," said Sam, " of all the cool boys ever I set my eyes on, this 
 here young gen'lm'n is about the coolest. Come, vake up, young 
 dropsy." 
 
 But as young dropsy evinced no symptoms of returning animation, 
 Sam Weller sat himself down in front of the cart, and starting the old 
 horse with a jerk of the rein, jogged steadily on, towards Manor Farm. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Pickwick and his friends having walked their blood 
 into active circulation, proceeded cheerfully on ; the paths were hard, 
 the grass was crisp and frosty, the air had a fine, dry, bracing coldness, 
 and the rapid approach of the grey twilight (slate-coloured is a better 
 term in frosty weather) made them look forward with pleasant anticipa- 
 tion to the comforts which awaited them at their hospitable entertainer's. 
 It was the sort of afternoon that might induce a couple of elderly gen- 
 tlemen, in a lonely field, to take off their great coats and play at leap- 
 frog in pure lightness of heart and gaiety ; and we firmly believe that 
 had Mr. Tupman at that moment proffered " a back," Mr. Pickwick 
 would have accepted his offer with the utmost avidity. 
 
 However, Mr. Tupman did not volunteer any such personal accom- 
 modation, and the friends walked on, conversing merrily. As they 
 turned into a lane which they had to cross, the sound of many voices 
 burst upon their ears ; and before they had even had time to form a 
 guess as to whom they belonged, they walked into the very centre of the 
 party who were expecting their arrival a fact which was first notified 
 to the Pickwickians, by the loud "Hurrah," which burst from old 
 Wardle's lips, when they appeared in sight. 
 
 First, there was Wardle himself, looking, if that were possible, more 
 jolly than ever; then there were Bella and her faithful Trundle; and, 
 lastly, there were Emily and some eight or ten young ladies, who had 
 all come down to the wedding which was to take place next day, and 
 were in as happy and important a state as young ladies usually are, on 
 such momentous occasions; and they were, one and all, startling the fields 
 and lanes far and wide with their frolic and laughter. 
 
 The ceremony of introduction, under such circumstances, was very 
 soon performed, or we should rather say that the introduction was soon 
 over, without any ceremony at all ; and in two minutes thereafter, Mr. 
 Pickwick was joking with the young ladies who wouldn't come over the 
 stile while he looked, or who, having pretty feet and unexceptionable 
 ankles, preferred standing on the top-rail for five minutes or so, and 
 declaring that they were too frightened to move, with as much ease and 
 absence of reserve or constraint, as if he had known them for life. 
 It is worthy of remark too, that Mr. Snodgrass offered Emily far more 
 assistance than the absolute terrors of the stile (although it was full three 
 feet high, and had only a couple of stepping-stones) would seem to
 
 288 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 require ; while one black-eyed young 1 lady in a very nice little pair of 
 boots with fur round the top, was observed to scream very loudly, when 
 Mr Winkle offered to help her over. 
 
 All this was very snug- and pleasant: and when the difficulties of the 
 stile were at last surmounted, and they once more entered on the open 
 field, old Wardle informed Mr. Pickwick how they had all been down 
 in a body to inspect the furniture and fittings-up of the house, 
 which the young couple were to tenant, after the Christmas holidays ; 
 at which communication Bella and Trundle both coloured up, as red as 
 the fat boy after the tap-room fire ; and the young- lady with the black 
 eyes and the fur round the boots, whispered something in Emily's ear, 
 and then glanced archly at Mr. Snodgrass, to which Emily responded 
 that she was a foolish girl, but turned very red, notwithstanding ; and 
 Mr. Snodgrass, who was as modest as all great geniuses usually are, felt 
 the crimson rising to the crown of his head, and devoutly wished, in 
 the inmost recesses of his own heart, that the young lady aforesaid, with 
 her black eyes, and her archness, and her boots with the fur round the 
 top, were all comfortably deposited in the adjacent county. 
 
 But if they were social and happy, outside the house, what was the 
 warmth and cordiality of their reception when they reached the farm ! 
 The very servants grinned with pleasure at sight of Mr. Pickwick : and 
 Emma bestowed a half-demure, half-impudent, and all pretty look of 
 recognition on Mr. Tupman, which was enough to make the statue of 
 Bonaparte in the passage, unfold his arms, and clasp her within them. 
 
 The old lady was seated in customary state in the front parlour, but 
 she was rather cross, and by consequence, most particularly deaf. She 
 never went out herself, and like a great many other old ladies of the 
 same stamp, she was apt to consider it an act of domestic treason, if 
 any body else took the liberty of doing what she couldn't. So, bless 
 her old soul, she sat as upright as she could, in her great chair, and 
 looked as fierce as might be and that was benevolent after all: 
 
 " Mother," said Wardle, " Mr. Pickwick. You recollect him." 
 
 " Never mind," replied the old lady with great dignity. " Don't 
 trouble Mr. Pickwick about an old creetur like me. Nobody cares 
 about me now, and it's very nat'ral they shouldn't." Here the old lady 
 tossed her head, and smoothed down her lavender-coloured silk dress-, 
 with trembling hands. 
 
 " Come, come, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, " I can't let you cut an 
 old friend in this way. I have come down expressly to have a long 
 talk, and another rubber with you ; and we'll show these boys and girls 
 how to dance a minuet, before they're eight-and-forty hours older." 
 
 The old lady was rapidly giving way, but she did not like to do it all 
 at once; so she only said, " Ah ! I can't hear him." 
 
 " Nonsense, mother," said Wardle. " Come, come, don't be cross, 
 there's a good soul. Recollect Bella ; come, you must keep her spirits 
 up, poor girl." 
 
 The good old lady heard this, for her lip quivered as her son said it. 
 But age has its little infirmities of temper, and she was not quite 
 Drought round yet. So, she smoothed down the lavender-coloured
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 289 
 
 dress again, and turning to Mr. Pickwick said, " Ah, Mr. Pickwick, 
 young people was very different, when I was a girl." 
 
 " No doubt of that, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, " and that's the 
 reason why I would make much of the few that have any traces of the 
 old stock," and saying this, Mr. Pickwick gently pulled Bella towards 
 him, and bestowing a kiss upon her forehead, bade her sit down on the 
 little stool at her grandmother's feet. Whether the expression of her 
 countenance, as it was raised towards the old lady's face, called up a 
 thought of old times, or whether the old lady was touched by Mr. Pick- 
 wick's affectionate good nature, or whatever was the cause, she was 
 fairly melted ; so, she threw herself on her grand-daughter's neck, and 
 all the little ill-humour evaporated in a gush of silent tears. 
 
 A happy party they were, that night. Sedate and solemn were the 
 score of rubbers in which Mr. Pickwick and the old lady played toge- 
 ther; and uproarious was the mirth of the round table. Long after the 
 ladies had retired, did the hot elder wine, well qualified with brandy and 
 spice, go round, and round, and round again ; and sound was the sleep, 
 and pleasant were the dreams that followed. It is a remarkable fact, 
 that those of Mr. Snodgrass bore constant reference to Emily Wardle ; 
 and that the principal figure in Mr. Winkle's visions, was a young lady 
 with black eyes, an arch smile, and a pair of remarkably nice boots, with 
 fur round the tops. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was awakened early in the morning, by a hum of voices 
 and pattering of feet, sufficient to rouse even the fat boy from his heavy 
 slumbers. He sat up in bed, and listened. The female servants and 
 female visitors were running constantly to and fro ; and there were such, 
 multitudinous demands for warm water, such repeated outcries for 
 needles and thread, and so many half-suppressed entreaties of " Oh, do 
 come and tie me, there's a dear/' that Mr. Pickwick in his innocence 
 began to imagine that something dreadful must have occurred, when he 
 grew more awake, and remembered the wedding. The occasion being 
 an important one, he dressed himself with peculiar care, and descended 
 to the breakfast room. 
 
 There were all the female servants in a bran new uniform of pink 
 muslin gowns with white bows in their caps, running about the house 
 in a state of excitement and agitation, which it would be impossible to 
 describe. The old lady was dressed out, in a brocaded grown, which had 
 not seen the light for twenty years, saving and excepting such truant 
 rays as had stolen through the chinks in the box in which it had been 
 laid by, during the whole time. Mr. Trundle was in high feather and 
 spirits, but a little nervous withal. The hearty old landlord was trying 
 to look very cheerful and unconcerned, but failing signally in the 
 attempt. All the girls were in tears and white muslin, except a select 
 two or three, who were being honoured with a private view of the bride 
 and bridesmaids, up stairs. All the Pickwickinns were in most bloom- 
 ing array ; and there was a terrific roaring on the grass in front of the. 
 house, occasioned by all the men, boys, and hobbledehoys attached to 
 the farm, each of whom had got a white bow in his button hole, and 
 all of whom were cheering with might and main : being incited thereto,
 
 290 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and stimulated therein, by the precept and example of Mr. SamueJ 
 Weller, who had managed to become mighty popular already, and was 
 as much at home as if he had been born on the land. 
 
 A wedding- is a licensed subject to joke upon, but there really is no 
 great joke in the matter after all; we speak merely of the ceremony, 
 and beg it to be distinctly understood that we indulge in no hidden 
 sarcasm upon a married life. Mixed up with the pleasure and joy of 
 the occasion, are the many regrets at quitting home, the tears of parting 
 between parent and child, the consciousness of leaving the dearest and 
 kindest friends of the happiest portion of human life, to encounter its 
 cares and troubles with others still untried, and little known natural 
 feelings which we would not render this chapter mournful by describing, 
 and which we should be still more unwilling to be supposed to ridicule. 
 
 Let us briefly say, then, that the ceremony was performed by the old 
 clergyman, in the parish church of Dingley Dell, and that Mr. Pickwick's 
 name is attached to the register, still preserved in the vestry thereof ; 
 that the young lady with the black eyes signed her name in a very un- 
 steady and tremulous manner; and that Emily's signature, as the other 
 bridesmaid, is nearly illegible ; that it all went off in very admirable 
 style ; that the young ladies generally, thought it far less shocking than 
 they expected ; and that although the owner of the black eyes and the 
 arch smile informed Mr. Winkle that she was sure she could never 
 submit to anything so dreadful, we have the very best reasons for 
 thinking she was mistaken. To all this, we may add, that Mr. Pickwick 
 was the first who saluted the bride : and that in so doing, he threw over 
 her neck, a rich gold watch and chain, which no mortal eyes but the 
 jeweller's had ever beheld before. Then the old church bell rang as 
 gaily as it could, and they all returned to breakfast. 
 
 " Vere does the mince-pies go, young opium eater?" said Mr. Weller 
 to the fat boy, as he assisted in laying out such articles of consumption 
 as had not been duly arranged on the previous night. 
 
 The fat boy pointed to the destination of the pies. 
 
 (t Wery good," said Sam, " stick a bit o' Christmas in 'em. T'other 
 dish opposite. There ; now ve look compact and comfortable, as the 
 father said ven he cut his little boy's head off, to cure him o' squintin'." 
 
 As Mr. W'eller made the comparison, he fell back a step or two, to 
 give full effect to it, and surveyed the preparations with the utmost 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Wardle," said Mr. Pickwick, almost as soon as they were all seated, 
 " a glass of wine, in honour of this happy occasion ! " 
 
 " I shall be delighted, my boy," said Wardle. " Joe damn that 
 toy, he's gone to sleep." 
 
 " No, I ain't, Sir," replied the fat boy, starting up from a remote 
 corner, where, like the patron saint of fat boys the immortal Horner 
 he had been devouring a Christmas pie, though not with the coolness 
 and deliberation which characterised that young gentleman's proceedings. 
 
 '< Fill Mr. Pickwick's glass." 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 The fat boy filled Mr. Pickwick's glass, and then retired behind his
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 291 
 
 master's chair, from whence he watched the play of the knives and 
 forks, and the progress of the choice morsels, from the dishes, to the 
 mouths of the company, with a kind of dark and gloomy joy that was 
 most impressive. 
 
 " God bless you, old fellow," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Same to you, my boy," replied Wardle; and they pledged each 
 other, heartily. 
 
 " Mrs. Wardle," said Mr. Pickwick, " we old folks must have a glass 
 of wine together, in honour of this joyful event." 
 
 The old lady was in a state of great grandeur just then, for she was 
 sitting at the top of the table in the brocaded gown, with her newly- 
 married daughter on one side, and Mr. Pickwick on the other, to do the 
 carving. Mr. Pickwick had not spoken in a very loud tone, but she 
 understood him at once, and drank off a full glass of w ine to his long 
 life and happiness ; after which the worthy old soul launched forth into 
 a minute and particular account of her own wedding, with a dissertation 
 on the fashion of wearing high-heeled shoes, and some particulars concern- 
 ing the life and adventures of the beautiful Lady Tollimglower, deceased, 
 at all of which the old lady herself laughed very heartily indeed, and so did 
 the young ladies too, for they were wondering among themselves what 
 on earth grandma was talking about. When they laughed, the old lady 
 laughed ten times more heartily : and said that they always had been 
 considered capital stories, which caused them all to laugh again, and 
 put the old lady into the very best of humours. Then the cake was 
 cut, and passed through the ring; and the young ladies saved pieces to 
 put under their pillows to dream of their future husbands on ; and a 
 great deal of blushing and merriment was thereby occasioned. 
 
 " Mr. Miller," said Mr. Pickwick to his old acquaintance, the hard- 
 headed gentleman, " a glass of wine ? " 
 
 " With great satisfaction Mr. Pickwick," replied the hard-headed 
 gentleman, solemnly. 
 
 " You'll take me in ? " said the benevolent old clergyman. 
 
 " And me," interposed his wife. 
 
 " And me, and me," said a couple of poor relations at the bottom of 
 the table, who had eaten and drank very heartily, and laughed at every 
 thing. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick expressed his heartfelt delight at every additional sug- 
 gestion ; and his eyes beamed with hilarity and cheerfulness. 
 
 te Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Pickwick, suddenly rising 
 
 " Hear, hear ! Hear, hear ! Hear, hear ! " said Mr. Weller, in the 
 excitement of his feelings. 
 
 " Call in all the servants," cried old Wardle, interposing to prevent 
 the public rebuke which Mr. Weller would otherwise most indubitably 
 have received from his master. 
 
 " Give them a glass of wine each, to drink the toast in. Now, 
 Pickwick." 
 
 Amidst the silence of the company, the whispering of the women 
 servants, and the awkward embarrassment of the men, Mr. Pickwick 
 proceeded.
 
 292 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 <e Ladies and gentlemen no, I won't say ladies and gentlemen, I'll 
 call you my friends, my dear friends, if the ladies will allow me to 
 
 take so great a liberty " 
 
 Here Mr. Pickwick was interrupted by immense applause from the 
 ladies, echoed by the gentlemen, during which the owner of the eyes 
 was distinctly heard to state that she could kiss that dear Mr. Pickwick, 
 whereupon Mr. Winkle gallantly inquired if it couldn't be done by 
 deputy, to which the young lady with the black eyes replied, " Go 
 away " and accompanied the request with a look which said as plainly 
 
 as a look could do " if you can." 
 
 " My dear friends," resumed Mr. Pickwick, "lam going to propose 
 the health of the bride and bridegroom God bless 'em (cheers and 
 tears). My young friend Trundle, I believe to be a very excellent 
 and manly fellow ; and his wife I know to be a very amiable and 
 lovely girl, well qualified to transfer to another sphere of action 
 the happiness which for twenty years she has diffused around her, 
 in her father's house. (Here, the fat boy burst forth into stentorian 
 blubberings, and was led forth by the coat collar, by Mr. Weller.) 
 I wish," added Mr. Pickwick, " I wish I was young enough to 
 be her sister's husband, (cheers), but, failing that, I am happy to 
 be old enough to be her father; for, being so, I shall not be 
 suspected of any latent designs when I say, that I admire, esteem, and 
 love them both (cheers and sobs). The bride's father, our good 
 friend there, is a noble person, and I am proud to know him (great 
 uproar). He is a kind, excellent, independent-spirited, fine-hearted, 
 hospitable, liberal man (enthusiastic shouts from the poor relations, at 
 all the adjectives ; and especially at the two last). That his daughter 
 may enjoy all the happiness, even he can desire; and that he may 
 derive from the contemplation of her felicity all the gratification of 
 heart and peace of mind which he so well deserves, is, I am persuaded, 
 our united wish. So, let us drink their healths, and wish them pro- 
 longed life, and every blessing." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick concluded amidst a whirlwind of applause ; and once 
 more were the lungs of the supernumeraries, under Mr. Weller's com- 
 mand, brought into active and efficient operation. Mr. Wardle pro- 
 posed Mr. Pickwick ; and Mr. Pickwick proposed the old lady. Mr. 
 Snodgrass proposed Mr. Wardle, and Mr. Wardle proposed Mr. Suod- 
 grass. One of the poor relations proposed Mr. Tupman, and the other 
 poor relation proposed Mr. Winkle ; and all was happiness and festivity, 
 until the mysterious disappearance of both the poor relations beneath 
 the table, warned the party that it was time to adjourn. 
 
 At dinner they met again, after a five and twenty mile walk, under- 
 taken by the males at Wardle's recommendation, to get rid of the 
 effects of the wine at breakfast; the poor relations had 'lain in bed all 
 day, with the view of attaining the same happy consummation, but, as 
 they had been unsuccessful, they stopped there. Mr. Weller kept the 
 domestics in a state of perpetual hilarity ; and the fat boy divided his 
 time into small alternate allotments of eating and sleeping. 
 
 The dinner was as hearty an affair as the breakfast, and was quite as
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 293 
 
 noisy, without the tears. Then came the dessert and some more 
 toasts. Then came the tea and coffee ; and then, the ball. 
 
 The best sitting room at Manor Farm was a good, long, dark- 
 pannelled room with a high chimney piece, and a capacious chimney, 
 up which you could have driven one of the new patent cabs, wheels and 
 all. At the upper end of the room, seated in a shady bovver of holly 
 and evergreens, were the two best fiddlers, and the only harp, in all 
 Muggleton. In all sorts of recesses, and on all kinds of brackets, stood 
 massive old silver candlesticks with four branches each. The carpet 
 was up, the candles burnt bright, the fire blazed and crackled on the 
 hearth ; and merry voices and light-hearted laughter rang through the 
 room. If any of the old English yeomen had turned into fairies when 
 they died, it was just the place in which they would have held their 
 revels. 
 
 If any thing could have added to the interest of this agreeable scene, 
 it would have been the remarkable fact of Mr. Pickwick's appearing 
 without his gaiters, for the first time within the memory of his oldest 
 friends. 
 
 " You mean to dance? " said Wardlsj. . 
 
 " Of course I do," replied Mr. Pickwick, " Don't you see I am 
 dressed for the purpose ? " and Mr. Pickwick called attention to his 
 speckled silk stockings, and smartly tied pumps. 
 
 " You in silk stockings ! " exclaimed Mr. Tupman jocosely. 
 
 li And why not Sir why not ? " said Mr. Pickwick, turning warmly 
 upon him. 
 
 " Oh, of course there is no reason why you shouldn't wear them," 
 responded Mr. Tupman. 
 
 " I imagine not Sir I imagine not," said Mr. Pickwick in a very 
 peremptory tone. 
 
 Mr. Tupman had contemplated a laugh, but he found it was a 
 serious matter ; so he looked grave, and said they were a very pretty 
 pattern. 
 
 " I hope they are," said Mr. Pickwick fixing his eyes upon his friend. 
 " You see nothing extraordinary in these stockings, as stockings, I 
 trust Sir? " 
 
 " Certainly not oh certainly not," replied Mr. Tupman. He 
 walked away ; and Mr. Pickwick's countenance resumed its customary 
 benign expression. 
 
 " We are all ready, I believe," said Mr. Pickwick, who was stationed 
 with the old lady at the top of the dance, and had already made four 
 false starts, in his excessive anxiety to commence. 
 
 " Then begin at once," said Wardle. " Now." 
 
 Up struck the two fiddles and the one harp, and off went Mr. Pick- 
 wick into hands across, when there was a general clapping of hands, 
 and a cry of " Stop, stop." 
 
 "What's the matter !" said Mr. Pickwick, who was only brought to, 
 by the fiddles and harp desisting, and could have been stopped by no 
 other earthly power, if the house had been on fire. 
 
 " Where's Arabella Allen?" said a dozen voices. 
 z 2
 
 294 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 "And Winkle?" added Mr. Tupraan. 
 
 " Here we are !" exclaimed that gentleman, emerging with his pretty 
 companion from the corner ; and, as he did so, it would have been hard 
 to tell which was the redder in the face, he or the young lady with the 
 black eyes. 
 
 " What an extraordinary thing it is, Winkle," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 rather pettishly, " that you couldn't have taken your place before." 
 
 " Not at all extraordinary," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Pickwick, with a very expressive smile, as his 
 eyes rested on Arabella, " well, I don't know that it was extraordinary, 
 either, after all." 
 
 However, there was no time to think more about the matter, for the 
 fiddles and harp began in real earnest. Away went Mr. Pickwick 
 hands across, down the middle to the very end of the room, and half 
 way up the chimney, back again to the door poussette everywhere 
 loud stamp on the ground ready for the next couple off again all 
 the figure over once more another stamp to beat out the time next 
 couple, and the next, and the next again never was such going ; and 
 at last, after they had reached the bottom of the dance, and full four- 
 teen ample after the old lady had retired in an exhausted state, and the 
 clergyman's wife had been substituted in her stead, did that gentleman, 
 when there was no demand whatever on his exertions, keep perpetually 
 dancing in his place, to keep time to the music, smiling on his partner 
 all the while with a blandness of demeanour which baffles all de- 
 scription. 
 
 Long before Mr. Pickwick was weary of dancing, the newly-married 
 couple had retired from the scene. There was a glorious supper down 
 stairs, notwithstanding, and a good long sitting after it ; and when Mr. 
 Pickwick awoke, late the next morning, he had a confused recollection 
 of having, severally and confidentially, invited somewhere about five-and- 
 forty people to dine with him at the George and Vulture, the very first 
 time they came to London ; which Mr. Pickwick rightly considered a 
 pretty certain indication of his having taken something besides exercise, 
 on the previous night. 
 
 " And so your family has games in the kitchen to-night, my dear, 
 has they ?" inquired Sam of Emma. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Weller," replied Emma ; " we always have on Christmas 
 eve. Master wouldn't neglect to keep it up, on any account." 
 
 " Your master's a \very pretty notion of keepin' anythin' up, my 
 dear," said Mr. Weller; " I never see such a sensible sort of man as he 
 is, or such a reg'lar genTm'n." 
 
 "Oh, that he is!" said the fat boy, joining in the conversation ; 
 " don't he breed nice pork!" and the fat youth gave a semi-cannibalic 
 leer at Mr. Weller, as he thought of the roast legs and gravy. 
 " Oh, you've woke up, at last, have you?" said Sam. 
 The fat boy nodded. 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, young boa constructer," said Mr. Weller, 
 impressively, " if you don't sleep a little less, and exercise a little more, 
 ven you comes to be a man you'll lay yourself open to the same sort
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 295 
 
 o' personal inconvvenience as was inflicted on the old gen'lm'n as wore 
 the pig-tail." 
 
 "What did they do to him?" inquired the fat boy, in a faltering 1 
 voice. 
 
 " I'm a goin' to tell you," replied Mr. Weller ; " he was one o' the 
 largest patterns as was ever turned out reg'lar fat man, as hadn't caught 
 a glimpse of his own shoes for five-and-forty years." 
 
 " Lor!" exclaimed Emma. 
 
 " No, that he hadn't, my dear," said Mr. Weller, " and if you'd 
 put an exact model of his own legs on the dinin' table afore him, he 
 wouldn't ha' known 'em. Well, he always walks to his office with 
 a wery handsome gold watch-chain hanging out, about a foot and a 
 half, and a gold watch in his fob pocket as was worth I'm afraid to 
 say how much, but as much as a watch can be a large, heavy, round 
 manafacter, as stout for a watch, as he was for a man, and with a big 
 face in proportion. ' You'd better not carry that 'ere watch/ says the 
 old genTm'n's friends, 'you'll be robbed on it,' says they. ' Shall I?' 
 says he. ' Yes, will you,' says they. ' Veil,' says he, ' I should like to 
 see the thief as could get this here watch out, for I'm blessed if / ever 
 can ; it's such a tight fit,' says he, ' and venever I vants to know what's 
 o'clock, I'm obliged to stare into the bakers' shops,' he says. Well, 
 then he laughs as hearty as if he was a goin' to pieces, and out he walks 
 agin' with his powdered head and pig-tail, and rolls down the Strand 
 vith the chain hangin' out furder than ever, and the. great round watch 
 almost bustin' through his grey kersey smalls. There warn't a pickpocket 
 in all London as didn't take a pull at that chain, but the chain 'ud never 
 break, and the watch 'ud never come out, so they soon got tired o' drag- 
 ging such a heavy old gen'l m'n along the pavement, and he'd go home 
 and laugh till the pig-tail wibrated like the penderlum of a Dutch clock. 
 At last, one day the old gen'l m'n was a rollin' along, and he sees a 
 pickpocket as he know'd by sight, a-comin' up, arm in arm vith a little 
 boy vith a wery large head. ' Here's a game,' says the old genTm'n to 
 himself, ' they're a-goin' to have another try, but it won't do.' So he 
 begins a chucklin' wery hearty, ven, all of a sudden, the little boy leaves 
 hold of the pickpocket's arm, and rushes headforemost straight into the 
 old genTm'n's stomach, and for a moment doubled him right up vith the 
 pain. 'Murder!' says the old gen'lm'n. 'All right, Sir,' says the 
 pickpocket, a whisperin' in his ear. And ven he come straight agin', the 
 watch and chain was gone, and what's worse than that, the old gen'l' m'n's 
 digestion was all wrong ever artervards, to the wery last day of his life; 
 so just you look about you, young feller, and take care you don't get 
 too fat." 
 
 As Mr. Weller concluded this moral tale, with which the fat boy 
 appeared much affected, they all three wended their way to the large 
 kitchen, in which the family were by this time assembled, according to 
 annual custom on Christmas eve, observed by old Wardle's forefathers 
 from time immemorial. 
 
 From the centre of the ceiling of this kitchen, old Wardle had just 
 suspended with his own hands a huge branch of misletoe, and this same
 
 296 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 branch of misletoe instantaneously gave rise to a scene of general and 
 most delightful struggling and confusion ; in the midst of which Mr. 
 Pickwick with a gallantry which would have done honour to a descen- 
 dant of Lady Tollimglower herself, took the old lady by the hand, led 
 her beneath the mystic branch, and saluted her in all courtesy and 
 decorum. The old lady submitted to this piece of practical politeness 
 with all the dignity which befitted so important and serious a solemnity, 
 but the younger ladies not being so thoroughly imbued with a super- 
 stitious veneration of the custom, or imagining that the value of a salute 
 is very much enhanced if it cost a little trouble to obtain it, screamed 
 and struggled, and ran into corners, and threatened and remonstrated, 
 and did every thing but leave the room, until some of the less adven- 
 turous gentlemen were on the point of desisting, when they all at once 
 found it useless to resist any longer, and submitted to be kissed with a 
 good grace. Mr. Winkle kissed the young lady with the black eyes, 
 and Mr. Snodgrass kissed Emily; and Mr. Weller, not being particular 
 about the form of being under the misletoe, kissed Emma and the other 
 female servants, just as he caught them. As to the poor relations, they 
 kissed everybody, not even excepting the plainer portion of the young- 
 lady visiters, who, in their excessive confusion, ran right under the 
 misletoe, directly it was hung up, without knowing it ! Wardle stood 
 with his back to the fire, surveying the whole scene, with the utmost 
 satisfaction ; and the fat boy took the opportunity of appropriating to 
 his own use, and summarily devouring, a particularly fine mince-pie, 
 that had been carefully put by, for somebody else. 
 
 Now the screaming had subsided, and faces were in a glow and curls 
 in a tangle, and Mr. Pickwick, after kissing the old lady as before-men- 
 tioned, was standing under the misletoe, looking with a very pleased 
 countenance on all that was passing around him, when the young lady 
 with the black eyes, after a little whispering with the other young ladies, 
 made a sudden dart forward, and, putting her arm round Mr. Pickwick's 
 neck, saluted him affectionately on the left cheek ; and before Mr. Pick- 
 wick distinctly knew what was the matter, he was surrounded by the 
 whole body, and kissed by every one of them. 
 
 It was a pleasant thing to see Mr. Pickwick in the centre of the 
 group, now pulled this way, and then that, and first kissed on the chin 
 and then on the nose, and then on the spectacles, and to hear the peals 
 of laughter which were raised on every side ; but it was a still more 
 pleasant thing to see Mr. Pickwick, blinded shortly afterwards with a 
 eilk-handkerchief, falling up against the wall, and scrambling into cor- 
 ners, and going through all the mysteries of blindman's buff, with the 
 utmost relish for the game, until at last he caught one of the 
 poor relations ; and then had to evade the blind-man himself, which 
 he did with a nimbleness and agility that elicited the admiration and 
 applause of all beholders. The poor relations caught just the people 
 whom they thought would like it ; and when the game flagged, got caught 
 themselves. When they were all tired of blind-man's buff, there was a 
 great game at snap-dragon, and when fingers enough were burned with 
 that, and all the raisins gone, they sat down by the huge fire of blazing

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 297 
 
 logs to a substantial supper, and a mighty bowl of wassail, something 
 smaller than an ordinary wash-house copper, in which the hot apples 
 were hissing and bubbling with a rich look, and a jolly sound, that were 
 perfectly irresistible. 
 
 " This," said Mr. Pickwick, looking round him, " this is, indeed, 
 comfort." 
 
 " Our invariable custom," replied Mr. Wardle. " Every body sits 
 down with us on Christmas eve, as you see them now servants and all ; 
 and here we wait till the clock strikes twelve, to usher Christmas in, 
 and wile away the time with forfeits and old stories. Trundle, my boy, 
 rake up the fire." 
 
 Up flew the bright sparks in myriads as the logs were stirred, and the 
 deep red blaze sent forth a rich glow, that penetrated into the furthest 
 corner of the room, and cast its cheerful tint on every face. 
 
 "Come," said Wardle, "^a song a Christmas song. I'll give you 
 one, in default of a better." 
 
 " Bravo," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Fill up," cried Wardle. " It will be two hours good, before you see 
 the bottom of the bowl through the deep rich colour of the wassail ; fill 
 up all round, and now for the song." 
 
 Thu*. saying, the merry old gentleman, in a good, round, sturdy- 
 voice, commenced without more ado_ 
 
 & Cfjn'stmas Carol. 
 
 I CAHE not for Spring ; on his fickle wing 
 Let the blossoms and buds be borne : 
 He woos them amain with his treacherous rain, 
 And he scatters them ere the morn. 
 An inconstant elf, he knows not himself, 
 Or his own changing mind an hour, 
 He'll smile in your face, and, with wry grimace, 
 He'll wither your youngest flower. 
 
 Let the Summer sun to his bright home run, 
 
 He shall never be sought by me ; 
 
 W hen he's dimmed by a cloud 1 can laugh aloud, 
 
 And care not how sulky he be ; 
 
 For his darling child is the madness wild 
 
 That sports in fierce fever's train ; 
 
 And when love is too strong, it don't last long, 
 
 As many have found to their pain. 
 
 A mild harvest night, by the tranquil light 
 
 Of the modest and gentle moon, 
 
 Has a far sweeter sheen for me, I ween, 
 
 Than the broad and unblushing noon. 
 
 But every leaf awakens my grief, 
 
 As it lieth beneath the tree ; 
 
 So let Autumn air be never so fair, 
 
 It by no means agrees with me.
 
 zyo POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 But my song I troll out, for CHRISTMAS stout, 
 
 The hearty, the true," and the bold ; 
 
 A humper I drain, and with might and main 
 
 Give three cheers for this Christmas old. 
 
 We'll usher him in with a merry din 
 
 That shall gladden his joyous heart, 
 
 And we'll keep him up while there's bite or sup, 
 
 And in fellowship good, we'll part. 
 
 In his fine honest pride, lie scorns to hide 
 
 One jot of his hard- weather scars ; 
 
 They're no disgrace, for there's much the same trace 
 
 On the cheeks of our bravest tars. 
 
 Then again I sing 'till the roof doth ring, 
 
 And it echoes from wall to wall 
 
 To the stout old wight, fair welcome to-night, 
 
 As the King of the Seasons all ! 
 
 This song; was tumultuously applauded, for friends and dependents 
 make a capital aiidieuce ; and the poor relations especially were in perfect 
 extasies of rapture. Again was the fire replenished, and again went the 
 wassail round. 
 
 " How it snows ! " said one of the men, in a low tone. 
 
 " Snows, does it ? " said Wardle. 
 
 " Rough, cold night, Sir," replied the man ; " and there's a wind got 
 up, that drifts it across the fields, in a thick white cloud." 
 "- " What does Jem say ? " inquired the old lady. " There ain't any 
 thing the matter, is there? " 
 
 " No, no, mother," replied Wardle; "he says there's a snow-drift, 
 and a wind that's piercing cold. I should know that, by the way it 
 rumbles in the chimney." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the old lady, "there was just such a wind, and just such 
 a fall of snow, a good many years back, I recollect just five years 
 before your poor father died. It was a Christmas eve, too ; and I 
 remember that on that very night he told us the story about the goblins 
 that carried away old Gabriel Grub." 
 
 " The story about what? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh, nothing nothing," replied Wardle. " About an old sexton, 
 that the good people down here suppose to have been carried away by 
 goblins." 
 
 " Suppose ! " ejaculated the old lady. " Is there any body hardy 
 enough to disbelieve it? Suppose ! Haven't you heard ever since you 
 were a child, that he was carried away by the goblins, and don't you 
 know he was ? " 
 
 " Very well, mother, he was, if you like," said Wardle, laughing. 
 " He was carried away by goblins, Pickwick ; and there's an end of the 
 matter." 
 
 " No, no," said Mr. Pickwick, "not an end of it, I assure"you ; for I 
 must hear how, and why, and all about it."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 299 
 
 Wardle smiled, as every head was bent forward to hear ; and filling 
 out the wassail with no stinted hand, nodded a health to Mr. Pickwick, 
 and began as follows 
 
 But bless our editorial heart, what a long chapter we have been 
 betrayed into ! We had quite forgotten all such petty restrictions as 
 chapters, we solemnly declare. So here goes, to give the goblin a fair 
 start in a new one. A clear stage and no favour for the goblins, ladies 
 and gentlemen, if you please. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE GOBLINS WHO STOLE A SEXTON. 
 
 " IN an old abbey town, down in this part of the country, a long, 
 long while ago so long, that the story must be a true one, because 
 our great grandfathers implicitly believed it there officiated as sexton 
 and grave-digger in the church-yard, one Gabriel Grub. It by no 
 means follows that because a man is a sexton, and constantly sur- 
 rounded by emblems of mortality, therefore he should be a morose and 
 melancholy man ; your undertakers are the merriest fellows in the 
 world, and I once had the honour of being on intimate terms with a 
 mute, who in private life, and off duty, was as comical and jocose a 
 little fellow as ever chirped out a devil-may-care song, without a hitch 
 in his memory, or drained off a good stiff glass of grog without stopping 
 for breath. But notwithstanding these precedents to the contrary, Ga~ 
 briel Grub was an ill-conditioned, cross-grained, surly fellow a morose 
 and lonely man, who consorted with nobody but himself, and an old 
 wicker bottle which fitted into his large deep waistcoat pocket; and who 
 eyed each merry face as it passed him by, with such a deep scowl of 
 malice and ill-humour, as it was difficult to meet without feeling some- 
 thing the worse for. 
 
 " A little before twilight one Christmas eve, Gabriel shouldered his 
 spade, lighted his lantern, and betook himself towards the old church- 
 yard, for he had got a grave to finish by next morning, and feeling very 
 low he thought it might raise his spirits perhaps, if he went on with his 
 work at once. As he wended his way, up the ancient street, he saw the 
 cheerful light of the blazing fires gleam through the old casements, 
 and heard the loud laugh and the cheerful shotits of those who were 
 assembled around them ; he marked the bustling preparations for next 
 day's good cheer, and smelt the numerous savoury odours consequent 
 thereupon, as they steamed up from the kitchen windows in clouds. All 
 this was gall and wormwood to the heart of Gabriel Grub ; and as groups 
 of children, bounded out of the houses, tripped across the road, and 
 were met, before they could knock at the opposite door, by half a dozen 
 curly-headed little rascals who crowded round them as they flocked up 
 stairs to spend the evening in their Christmas games, Gabriel smiled 
 grimly, and clutched the handle of his spade with a firmer grasp, as he
 
 300 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 thought of measles, scarlet-fever, thrush, hooping-cough, and a good 
 many other sources of consolation beside. 
 
 " In this happy frame of mind, Gabriel strode along, returning a 
 short, sullen growl to the good-humoured greetings of such of his neigh- 
 bours as now and then passed him, until he turned into the dark lane 
 which led to the churchyard. Now Gabriel had been looking forward 
 to reaching the dark lane, because it was, generally speaking, a nice 
 gloomy mournful place, into which the towns-people did not much care 
 to go, except in broad day-light, and when the sun was shining; conse- 
 quently he was not a little indignant to hear a young urchin roaring out 
 some jolly song about a merry Christmas, in this very sanctuary, which 
 had been called Coffin Lane ever since the days of the old abbey, and 
 the time of the shaven-headed monks. As Gabriel walked on, and the 
 voice drew nearer, he found it proceeded from a small boy, who was 
 hurrying along, to join one of the little parties in the old street, and who, 
 partly to keep himself company, and partly to prepare himself for the 
 occasion, was shouting out the song at the highest pitch of his lungs. 
 So Gabriel waited till the boy came up, and then dodged him into a 
 corner, and rapped him over the head with his lantern five or six times, 
 just to teach him to modulate his voice. And as the boy hurried away 
 with his hand to his head, singing quite a different sort of tune, Ga- 
 briel Grub chuckled very heartily to himself, and entered the church- 
 yard, locking the gate behind him. 
 
 " He took off his coat, set down his lantern, and getting into the unfi- 
 nished grave, worked at it for an hour or so, with right good will. But 
 the earth was hardened with the frost, and it was no very easy matter to 
 break it up, and shovel it out ; and although there was a moon, it was a 
 very young one, and shed little light upon the grave, which was in the 
 shadow of the church. At any other time, these obstacles would have 
 made Gabriel Grub very moody and miserable, but he was so well pleased 
 with having stopped the small boy's singing, that he took little heed of 
 the scanty progress he had made, and looked down into the grave when 
 he had finished work for the night, with grim satisfaction, murmuring 
 as he gathered up his things 
 
 " ' Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one, 
 A few feet of cold earth, when life is done ; 
 A stone at the head, a stone at the feet, 
 A rich, juicy meal for the worms to eat ; 
 Rank grass over head, and dauip clay around, 
 Brave lodgings for one, these, in holy ground ! ' '* 
 
 " 'Ho! ho! ' laughed Gabriel Grub, as he sat himself down on a 
 flat tombstone which was a favourite resting place of his ; and drew forth 
 his wicker bottle. A coffin at Christmas a Christmas Box. Ho ! 
 ho! ho!' 
 
 " ' Ho ! ho ! ho ! ' repeated a voice which sounded close behind 
 him. 
 
 " Gabriel paused in some alarm, in the act of raising the wicker bottle 
 to his lips, and looked round. The bottom of the oldest grave about 
 him, was not more still and quiet, than the churchyard in the pale

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 301 
 
 moonlight. The cold hoar frost glistened on the tomb stones, and 
 sparkled like rows of gems among the stone carvings of the old church. 
 The snow lay hard and crisp upon the ground, and spread over the 
 thickly-strewn mounds of earth, so white and smooth a cover, that it 
 seemed as if corpses lay there, hidden only by their winding sheets. 
 Not the faintest rustle broke the profound tranquillity of the solemn 
 scene. Sound itself appeared to be frozen up, all was so cold and 
 still. 
 
 " ' It was the echoes, ' said Gabriel Grub, raising the bottle to his 
 lips again. 
 
 " ' It was not" ' said a deep voice. 
 
 " Gabriel started up, and stood rooted to the spot with astonishment 
 and terror ; for his eyes rested on a form which made his blood run 
 cold. 
 
 " Seated on an upright tombstone, close to him, was a strange un- 
 earthly figure, whom Gabriel felt at once, was no being of this world. 
 His long fantastic legs which might have reached the ground, were 
 cocked up, and crossed after a quaint, fantastic fashion ; his sinewy arms 
 were bare, and his hands rested on his knees. On his short round body 
 he wore a close covering, ornamented with small slashes ; and a short 
 cloak dangled at his back ; the collar was cut into curious peaks, which 
 served the goblin in lieu of ruff or neckerchief; and his shoes curled up 
 at the toes into long points. On his head be wore a broad-brimmed 
 sugar loaf hat, garnished with a single feather. The hat was covered 
 with the white frost, and the goblin looked as if he had sat on the same 
 tombstone very comfortably, for two or three hundred years. He was 
 sitting perfectly still ; his tongue was put out, as if in derision ; and he 
 was grinning at Gabriel Grub with such a grin as only a goblin could 
 call up. 
 
 " ' It was not the echoes," ' said the goblin. 
 
 " Gabriel Grub was paralysed, and could make no reply. 
 
 " ' What do you do here on Christmas eve ? " ' said the goblin sternly. 
 
 <( ' I came to dig a grave Sir, ' stammered Gabriel Grub. 
 
 " ' What man wanders among graves and churchyards on such a night 
 as this ? " ' said the goblin. 
 
 " ' Gabriel Grub ! Gabriel Grub! ' screamed a wild chorus of voices 
 that seemed to fill the church-yard. Gabriel looked fearfully round 
 nothing was to be seen. 
 
 " ' What have you got in that bottle ? ' said the goblin. 
 
 " ' Hollands, Sir,' replied the sexton, trembling more than ever; 
 for he had bought it of the smugglers, and he thought that perhaps his 
 questioner might be in the excise department of the goblins. 
 
 " ' Who drinks Hollands alone, and in a church-yard, on such a 
 night as this?' said the goblin. 
 
 " ' Gabriel Grub ! Gabriel Grub !' exclaimed the wild voices again. 
 
 " The goblin leered maliciously at the terrified sexton, and then 
 raising his voice, exclaimed 
 
 " ' And who, then, is our fair and lawful prize ?' 
 
 " To this inquiry the invisible chorus replied, in a strain that sounded
 
 302 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS Ol? 
 
 like the voices of many choristers singing to the mighty swell of the 
 old church organ a strain that seemed borne to the sexton's ears upon 
 a gentle wind, and to die away as its soft breath passed onward but the 
 burden of the reply was still the same, ' Gabriel Grub ! Gabriel Grub ! ' 
 
 " The goblin.grinned a broader grin than before, as he said, Well, 
 Gabriel, what do you say to this ? ' 
 
 " The sexton gasped for breath. 
 
 " ' What do you think of this, Gabriel?' said the goblin, kicking up 
 his feet in the air on either side the tombstone, and looking at the 
 turned-up points with as much complacency as if he had been con- 
 templating the most fashionable pair of Wellingtons in all Bond Street. 
 
 " ' It's it's very curious, Sir,' replied the sexton, half dead with 
 fright, ' very curious, and very pretty, but I think I'll go back and 
 finish my work, Sir, if you please.' 
 
 " ' Work ! ' said the goblin, < what work ?' 
 
 " ' The grave, Sir, making the grave,' stammered the sexton. 
 
 "* Oh, the grave, eh?' said the goblin, ' who makes graves at a 
 time when all other men are merry, and takes a pleasure in it ?' 
 
 " Again the mysterious voices replied, ' Gabriel Grub ! Gabriel 
 Grub!' 
 
 " ' I'm afraid my friends want you, Gabriel,' said the goblin, thrusting 
 his tongue further into his cheek than ever and a most astonishing 
 tongue it was f I'm afraid my friends want you, Gabriel,' said the 
 goblin. 
 
 " ' Under favour, Sir,' replied the horror-struck sexton, ' I don't 
 think they can, Sir ; they don't know me, Sir ; I don't think the gentle- 
 men have ever seen me, Sir.' 
 
 " ' Oh yes they have,' replied the goblin ; ' we know the man with 
 the sulky face and the grim scowl, that came down the street to-night, 
 throwing his evil looks at the children, and grasping his burying spade 
 the tighter. We know the man that struck the boy in the envious 
 malice of his heart, because the boy could be merry, and he could not. 
 We know him, we know him.' 
 
 " Here the goblin gave a loud shrill laugh, that the echoes returned 
 twenty fold, and throwing his legs up in the air, stood upon his head, or 
 rather upon the very point of his sugar-loaf hat, on the narrow edge of 
 the tombstone, from whence he threw a summerset with extraordinary 
 agility, right to the sexton's feet, at which he planted himself in the 
 attitude in which tailors generally sit upon the shop-board. 
 
 " ' I I am afraid I must leave you, Sir,' said the sexton, making 
 an effort to move. 
 
 " ' Leave us!' said the goblin, ' Gabriel Grub going to leave us. 
 Ho ! ho ! ho ! ' 
 
 " As the goblin laughed, the sexton observed for one instant a bril- 
 liant illumination within the windows of the church, as if the whole 
 building were lighted up ; it disappeared, the organ pealed forth a lively 
 air, and whole troops of goblins, the very counterpart of the first one, 
 poured into the churchyard, and began playing at leap-frog with the 
 tombstones, never stopping for an instant to take breath, but overing
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 30 
 
 the highest among them, one after the other, with the most marvellous 
 dexterity. The first goblin was a most astonishing leaper, and none of 
 the others could come near him ; even in the extremity of his terror the 
 sexton could not help observing, that while his friends were content to 
 leap over the common-sized gravestones, the first one took the family 
 vaults, iron railings and all, with as much ease as if they had been so 
 many street posts. 
 
 " At last the game reached to a most exciting pitch ; the organ 
 played quicker and quicker, and the goblins leaped faster and faster, 
 coiling themselves up, rolling head over heels upon the ground, and 
 bounding over the tombstones like foot-balls. The sexton's brain 
 whirled round with the rapidity of the motion he beheld, and his legs 
 reeled beneath him, as the spirits flew before his eyes, when the goblin 
 king suddenly darting towards him, laid his hand upon his collar, and 
 sank with him through the earth. 
 
 "When Gabriel Grub had had time to fetch his breath, which the 
 rapidity of his descent had for the moment taken away, he found himself 
 in what appeared to be a large cavern, surrounded on all sides by crowds 
 of goblins, ugly and grim ; in the centre of the room, on an elevated 
 seat, was stationed his friend of the churchyard ; and close beside him 
 stood Gabriel Grub himself, without the power of motion. 
 
 " ' Cold to-night/ said the king of the goblins, ' very cold. A glass 
 of something warm, here.' 
 
 " At this command, half a dozen officious goblins, with a perpetual 
 smile upon their faces, whom Gabriel Grub imagined to be courtiers, on 
 that account, hastily disappeared, and presently returned with a goblet 
 of liquid fire, which they presented to the king-. 
 
 " ' Ah !' said the goblin, whose cheeks and throat were quite trans- 
 parent, as he tossed down the flame, ' This warms one, indeed : bring 
 a bumper of the same, for Mr. Grub.' 
 
 i " It was in vain for the unfortunate sexton to protest that he was 
 not in the habit of taking anything warm at night ; for one of the gob- 
 lins held him while another poured the blazing liquid down his throat, 
 and the whole assembly screeched with laughter as he coughed and 
 choked, and wiped away the tears which gushed plentifully from his eyes, 
 after swallowing the burning draught. 
 
 " ' And now,' said the king, fantastically poking the taper corner of 
 his sugar-loaf hat into the sexton's eye, and thereby occasioning him 
 the most exquisite pain 'And now, show the man of misery and gloom 
 a few of the pictures from our own great storehouse.' 
 
 " As the goblin said this, a thick cloud which obscured the further 
 end of the cavern, rolled gradually away, and disclosed, apparently at a 
 great distance, a small and scantily furnished, but neat and clean apart- 
 ment. A crowd of little children were gathered round a bright fire, 
 clinging to their mother's gown, and gambolling round her chair. The 
 mother occasionally rose, and drew aside the window-curtain as if to 
 look for some expected object ; a frugal meal was ready spread upon the 
 table, and an elbow chair was placed near the fire. A knock was heard 
 at the door : the mother opened it, and the children crowded round her,
 
 304 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and clapped their hands for joy, as their father entered. He was wet 
 and weary, and shook the snow from his garments, as the children 
 crowded round him, and seizing his cloak, hat, stick, and gloves, with 
 husy zeal, ran with them from the room. Then as he sat down to his 
 meal before the fire, the children climbed about his knee, and the mother 
 sat by his side, and all seemed happiness and comfort. 
 
 " But a change came upon the view, almost imperceptibly. The 
 scene was altered to a small bed-room, where the fairest and youngest 
 child lay dying ; the roses had fled from his cheek, and the light from 
 his eye ; and even as the sexton looked upon him with an interest he 
 had never felt or known before, he died. His young brothers and 
 sisters crowded round his little bed, and seized his tiny hand, so cold 
 and heavy ; but they shrunk back from its touch, and looked with awe 
 on his infant face ; for calm and tranquil as it was, and sleeping in rest 
 and peace as the beautiful child seemed to be, they saw that he was dead, 
 and they knew that he was an angel looking down upon, and blessing 
 them, from a bright and happy Heaven. 
 
 " Again the light cloud passed across the picture, and again the sub- 
 ject changed. The father and mother were old and helpless now, and 
 the number of those about them was diminished more than half; but 
 content and cheerfulness sat on every face, and beamed in every eye, as 
 they crowded round the fireside, and told and listened to old stories of 
 earlier and bygone days. Slowly and peacefully the father sank into 
 the grave, and, soon after, the sharer of all his cares and troubles 
 followed him to a place of rest and peace. The few, who yet sur- 
 vived them, knelt by their tomb, and watered the green turf which 
 covered it with their tears ; then rose and turned away, sadly and 
 mournfully, but not with bitter cries, or despairing lamentations, for 
 they knew that they should one day meet again ; and once more they 
 mixed with the busy world, and their content and cheerfulness were 
 restored. The cloud settled upon the picture, and concealed it from 
 the sexton's view. 
 
 " 'What do you think of that?' said the goblin, turning his large 
 face towards Gabriel Grub. 
 
 " Gabriel murmured out something about its being very pretty, and 
 looked somewhat ashamed, as the goblin bent his fiery eyes upon him. 
 
 " ' You a miserable man!' said the goblin, in a tone of excessive 
 contempt. ' You I' He. appeared disposed to add more, but indignation 
 choked his utterance, so he lifted up one of his very pliable legs, and 
 flourishing it above his head a little, to insure his aim, administered a 
 good sound kick to Gabriel Grub ; immediately after which, all the 
 goblins in waiting crowded round the wretched sexton, and kicked him 
 without mercy, according to the established and invariable custom of 
 courtiers upon earth, who kick whom royalty kicks, and hug whom 
 royalty hugs. 
 
 " ' Show him some more, ' said the king of the goblins. 
 
 " At these words the cloud was again dispelled, and a rich and beau- 
 tiful landscape was disclosed to view there is just such another to this 
 day, within half a mile of the old abbey town. The sun shone from out
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 3U5 
 
 the clear blue sky, the water sparkled beneath his rays, and the trees 
 looked greener, and the flowers more gay, beneath his cheering influence. 
 The water rippled on, with a pleasant sound, the trees rustled in the 
 light wind that murmured among their leaves, the birds sang upon the 
 boughs, and the lark carolled on high, her welcome to the morning. Yes, 
 it was morning, the bright, balmy morning of summer ; the minutest 
 leaf, the smallest blade of grass, was instinct with life. The ant crept 
 forth to her daily toil, the butterfly fluttered and basked in the warm rays 
 of the sun ; myriads of insects spread their transparent wings, and re- 
 velled in their brief but happy existence. Man walked forth, elated 
 with the scene ; and all was brightness and splendour. 
 
 " ' You a miserable man ! ' said the king of the goblins, in a more 
 contemptuous tone than before. And again the king of the goblins 
 gave his leg a flourish ; again it descended on the shoulders of the sex- 
 ton ; and again the attendant goblins imitated the example of their 
 chief. 
 
 " Many a time the cloud went and came, and many a lesson it taught 
 to Gabriel Grub, who although his shoulders smarted with pain from 
 the frequent applications of the goblin's feet thereunto, looked on with 
 an interest which nothing could diminish. He saw that men who 
 worked hard, and earned their scanty bread with lives of labour, were 
 cheerful and happy ; and that to the most ignorant, the sweet face of 
 nature was a never-failing source of cheerfulness and joy. He saw those 
 who had been delicately nurtured, and tenderly brought up, cheerful 
 under privations, and superior to suffering, that would have crushed 
 many of a rougher grain, because they bore within their own bosoms 
 the materials of. happiness, contentment, and peace. He saw that women, 
 the tenderest and most fragile of all God's creatures, were the oftenest 
 superior to sorrow, adversity, and distress ; and he saw that it was be- 
 cause they bore in their own hearts an inexhaustible well-spring of 
 affection and devotedness. Above all, he saw that men like himself, 
 who snarled at the mirth and cheerfulness of others, were the foulest 
 weeds on the fair surface of the earth ; and setting all the good of the 
 world against the evil, he came to the conclusion that it was a very 
 decent and respectable sort of world after all. No sooner had he formed 
 it, than the cloud which had closed over the last picture, seemed to 
 settle on his senses, and lull him to repose. One by one, the goblins 
 faded from his sight, and as the last one disappeared, he sunk to 
 sleep. 
 
 " " The day had broken when Gabriel Grub awoke, and found himself 
 lying at full length on the flat grave stone in the church yard, with the 
 wicker bottle lying empty by his side, and his coat, spade, and lantern, 
 all well whitened by the last night's frost, scattered on the ground. 
 The stone on which he had first seen the goblin seated, stood bolt up- 
 right before him, and the grave at which he had worked, the night 
 before, was not far off. At first he began to doubt the reality of his 
 adventures, but the acute pain in his shoulders when he attempted to 
 rise, assured him that the kicking of the goblins was certainly not ideal. 
 He was staggered again, by observing no traces of footsteps in the snow
 
 306 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 on which the goblins had played at leap frog with the grave-stones, hut 
 he speedily accounted for this circumstance when he remembered that 
 being spirits, they would leave no visible impression behind them. So 
 Gabriel Grub got on his feet as well as he could, for the pain in his 
 back ; and brushing the frost off his coat, put it on, and turned his face 
 towards the town. 
 
 " But he was an altered man, and he could not bear the thought of 
 returning to a place where his repentance would be scoffed it, and his 
 reformation disbelieved. He hesitated for a few moments; and then 
 turned away to wander where he might, and seek his bread elsewhere. 
 
 " The lantern, the spade, and the wicker bottle, were found that day 
 in the churchyard. There were a great many speculations about the 
 sexton's fate at first, but it was speedily determined that he had been 
 carried away by the goblins ; and there were not wanting some very 
 credible witnesses who had distinctly seen him whisked through the air 
 on the back of a chestnut horse hlind of one eye, with the hind quarters 
 of a lion,_and_the tail of a bear. At length all this was devoutly 
 ~ believed; and the new sexton used to exhibit to the curious for a 
 trifling emolument, a good-sized piece of the church weathercock which 
 had been accidentally kicked off by the aforesaid horse in his aerial 
 flight, and picked up by himself in the churchyard, a year or two 
 afterwards. 
 
 " Unfortunately these stories were somewhat disturbed by the un- 
 looked-for re-appearance of Gabriel Grub himself, some ten years after- 
 wards, a ragged, contented, rheumatic old man. He told his story to 
 the clergyman, and also to the mayor; and in course of time it began 
 to be received as a matter of history, in which form it has con- 
 tinued down to this very day. The believers in the weathercock tale, 
 having misplaced their confidence once, were not easily prevailed 
 upon to part with it again, so they looked as wise as they could, 
 shrugged their shoulders, touched their foreheads, and murmured 
 something about Gabriel Grub's having drunk all the Hollands, and 
 then fallen asleep on the flat tombstone ; and they affected to explain 
 what he supposed he had witnessed in the goblin's cavern, by say- 
 ing that he had seen the we rid, and grown wiser. But this opinion, 
 which was by no means a popular one at any time, gradually died 
 off; and be the matter how it may, as Gabriel Grub was afflicted 
 with rheumatism to the end of his days, this story has at least one 
 moral, if it teach no better one and that is, that if a man turns 
 sulky and drinks by himself at Christmas time, he may make up his 
 mind to be not a bit the better for it, let the spirits be ever so good, 
 or let them be even as many degrees beyond proof, as those which 
 Gabriel Grub saw, in the goblin's cavern."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 307 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HOW THE PICKWICK1ANS MADE AND CULTIVATED THE ACQUAINT- 
 ANCE OF A COUPLE OF NICE YOUNG MEN BELONGING TO ONE 
 OF THE LIBERAL PROFESSIONS ; HOW THEY DISPORTED THEM- 
 SELVES OX THE ICE ; AND HOW THEIR VISIT CAME TO A CON- 
 CLUSION. 
 
 "WELL Sam," said Mr. Pickwick as that favoured servitor entered his 
 bed-chamber with his warm water, on the morning of Christmas Day, 
 " Still frosty?" 
 
 " Water in the wash-hand basin 's a mask o' ice, Sir," responded Sam. 
 
 " Severe weather, Sam," observed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Fine time for them as is well wropped up, as the Polar Bear said to 
 himself, ven he was practising his skaiting," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I shall be down in a quarter of an hour, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 untying his nightcap. 
 
 " Wery good, Sir," replied Sam. " There's a couple o' Sawbones 
 down stairs." 
 
 "A couple of what !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sitting up in bed. 
 
 " A couple o' Sawbones," said Sam. 
 
 < What's a Sawbones ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick, not quite certain 
 whether it was a live animal, or something to eat. 
 
 " What! don't you know what a Sawbones is, Sir ?" enquired Mr. 
 Weller; " I thought every body know'd as a Sawbones was a Surgeon." 
 
 " Oh, a Surgeon, eh ?" said Mr. Pickwick with a smile. 
 
 " Just that Sir," replied Sam. " These here ones as is below, though, 
 aint reg'lar thorough-bred Sawbones ; they're only in trainin'." 
 
 " In other words they're Medical Students, I suppose ?" said Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 Sam Weller nodded assent. 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Mr. Pickwick, casting his night cap energeti- 
 cally on the counterpane, " They are fine fellows ; very fine fellows, with 
 judgments matured by observation and reflection ; and tastes refined by 
 reading and study. I am very glad of it." 
 
 " They're a smokin' cigars by the kitchen fire," said Sam. 
 
 " Ah !" observed Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his hands, "overflowing with 
 kindly feelings and animal spirits. Just what I like to see !" 
 
 " And one on "em," said Sam, not noticing his master's interruption, 
 " one on 'em 's got his legs on the table, and is a drinkin' brandy neat, 
 vile the tother one him in the barnacles has got a barrel o' oysters 
 atween his knees, vich he's a openin' like steam, and as fast as he eats 
 'em, he takes a aim vith the shells at young dropsy, who's a settin' down 
 fast asleep, in the chimbley corner."
 
 308 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Eccentricities of genius, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. " You may 
 retire." 
 
 Sam did retire accordingly ; and Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of 
 the quarter of an hour, went down to breakfast. 
 
 " Here he is at last," said old Wardle. " Pickwick, this is Miss Allen's 
 brother, Mr. Benjamin Allen Ben we call him, and so may you if you 
 like. This gentleman is his very particular friend, Mr." 
 
 " Mr. Bob Sawyer," interposed Mr. Benjamin Allen, whereupon Mr. 
 Bob Sawyer and Mr. Benjamin Allen laughed in concert. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick bowed to Bob Sawyer, and Bob Sawyer bowed to Mr. 
 Pickwick ; Bob and his very particular friend then applied themselves 
 most assiduously to the eatables before them ; and Mr. Pickwick had 
 an opportunity of glancing at them both. 
 
 Mr. Benjamin Allen was a coarse, stout, thick-set young man, with 
 black hair cut rather short, and a white face cut rather long. He was 
 embellished with spectacles, and wore a white neckerchief. Below his 
 single-breasted black surtout, which was buttoned up to his chin, appeared 
 the usual number of pepper-and-salt coloured legs, terminating in a pair 
 of imperfectly polished boots. Although his coat was short in the 
 sleeves, it disclosed no vestige of a linen wristband ; and although 
 there was quite enough of his face to admit of the encroachment of a 
 shirt collar, it was not graced by the smallest approach to that appen- 
 dage. He presented altogether rather a mildewy appearance, and 
 emitted a fragrant odour of full-flavoured Cubas. 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer, who was habited in a coarse blue coat, which, without 
 being either a great coat or a surtout, partook of the nature and quali- 
 ties of both, had about him that sort of slovenly smartness, and swag- 
 gering gait, which is peculiar to young gentlemen who smoke in the 
 streets by day, shout and scream in the same by night, call waiters by 
 their Christian names, and do various other acts and deeds of an equally 
 facetious description. He wore a pair of plaid trousers, and a large 
 rough double-breasted waistcoat ; and out of doors, carried a thick stick 
 Avith a big top. He eschewed gloves, and looked, upon the whole, some- 
 thing like a dissipated Robinson Crusoe. 
 
 Such were the two worthies to whom Mr. Pickwick was introduced, 
 as he took his seat at the breakfast table on Christmas morning. 
 
 " Splendid morning, gentlemen," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer slightly nodded his assent to the proposition, and 
 asked Mr. Benjamin Allen for the mustard. 
 
 " Have you come far this morning, gentlemen ?" inquired Mr. Pick- 
 wick. 
 
 " Blue Lion at Muggleton," brieflv responded Mr. Allen. 
 
 " You should have joined us last night," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " So we should," replied Bob Sawyer, " but the brandy was too good 
 to leave in a hurry : wasn't it, Ben ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Benjamin Allen; " and the cigars were not bad, 
 or the pork chops either : were they, Bob ?" 
 
 "Decidedly not," said Bob. And the particular friends resumed
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 309 
 
 their attack upon the breakfast, more freely than before, as if the recol- 
 lection of last night's supper had imparted a new relish to the meal. 
 
 " Peg- away, Bob," said Mr. Allen to his companion, encouragingly. 
 
 " So I do," replied Bob Sawyer. And so,, to do him justice, he did. 
 
 " Nothing like dissecting, to give one an appetite," said Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, looking round the table. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick slightly shuddered. 
 
 " By the bye, Bob," said Mr. Allen, " have you finished that leg yet ?" 
 
 " Nearly," replied Sawyer, helping himself to half a fowl as he spoke. 
 " It's a very muscular one for a child's." 
 
 il Is it ?" inquired Mr. Allen, carelessly. 
 
 " Very," said Bob Sawyer, with his mouth full. 
 
 " I've put my name down for an arm, at our place," said Mr. Allen. 
 " We're clubbing for a subject, and the list is nearly full, only we can't 
 get hold of any fellow that wants a head. I wish you'd take it." 
 
 "No," replied Bob Sawyer; "can't afford expensive luxuries." 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Allen. 
 
 " Can't indeed," rejoined Bob Sawyer. "I wouldn't mind a brain, 
 but I couldn't stand a whole head." 
 
 " Hush, hush, gentlemen, pray," said Mr. Pickwick, " I hear the 
 ladies." 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick spoke, the ladies, gallantly escorted by Messrs. 
 Snodgrass, Winkle, and Tupman, returned from an early walk. 
 
 " Lor, Ben !" said Arabella, in a tone which expressed more surprise 
 than pleasure at the sight of her brother. 
 
 " Come to take you home to-morrow," replied Benjamin. 
 
 Mr. Winkle turned pale. 
 
 "Don't yon see Bob Sawyer, Arabella?" enquired Mr. Benjamin 
 Allen, somewhat reproachfully. Arabella gracefully held out her hand, 
 in acknowledgment of Bob Sawyer's presence. A thrill of hatred struck 
 to Mr. Winkle's heart, as Bob Sawyer inflicted on the proffered hand a 
 perceptible squeeze. 
 
 "Ben dear!" said Arabella, blushing; "have have you been in- 
 troduced to Mr. Winkle ? " 
 
 " I have not been, but I shall be very happy to be, Arabella," replied 
 her brother gravely. Here Mr. Allen bowed grimly to Mr. Winkle, 
 while Mr. Winkle and Mr. Bob Sawyer glanced mutual distrust out of 
 the corners of their eyes. 
 
 The arrival of the two new visitors, and the consequent check upon 
 Mr. Winkle and the young lady with the fur round her boots, would in 
 all probability have proved a very unpleasant interruption to the hila- 
 rity of the party, had not the cheerfulness of Mr. Pickwick, and the 
 good humour of the host, been exerted to the very utmost for the com- 
 mon weal. Mr. Winkle gradually insinuated himself into the good 
 graces of Mr. Benjamin Allen, and even joined in a friendly conversa- 
 tion with Mr. Bob Sawyer ; who, enlivened with the brandy, and the 
 breakfast, and the talking, gradually ripened into a state of extreme 
 facetiousness, and related with much glee an agreeable anecdote, about 
 the removal of a tumour on some gentleman's head, which he illustrated 
 
 A A2
 
 310 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 by means of an oyster-knife and a half-quartern loaf, to the great edifi- 
 cation of the assembled company. Then the whole train went to 
 church, where Mr. Benjamin Allen fell fast asleep; while Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer abstracted his thoughts from worldly matters, by the ingenious 
 process of carving his name on the seat of the pew, in corpulent letters 
 of about four inches long. 
 
 " Now," said Wardle, after a substantial lunch, with the agreeable 
 items of strong-beer and cherry-brandy, had been done ample justice to ; 
 " what say you to an hour on the ice ? We shall have plenty of 
 time." 
 
 Capital !" said Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 " Prime !" ejaculated Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " You skait, of course, Winkle ?" said Wardle. 
 
 " Ye yes ; oh, yes ;" replied Mr. Winkle. " I I am rather out 
 of practice." 
 
 " Oh, do skait, Mr. Winkle," said Arabella. " I like to see it so 
 much." 
 
 " Oh, it is so graceful," said another young lady. 
 
 A third young lady said it was elegant, and a fourth expressed her 
 opinion that it was " swan-like." 
 
 "I should be very happy, I'm sure," said Mr. Winkle, reddening; 
 " but I have no skaits." 
 
 This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had got a couple of 
 pair, and the fat boy announced that there were half-a-dozen more, down 
 stairs, whereat Mr. Winkle expressed exquisite delight, and looked 
 exquisitely uncomfortable. 
 
 Old Wardle led the way to a pretty large sheet of ice ; and the fat 
 boy and Mr. Weller, having shovelled and swept away the snow which 
 had fallen on it during the night, Mr. Bob Sawyer adjusted his skaits 
 with a dexterity which to Mr. Winkle was perfectly marvellous, and 
 described circles with his left leg, and cut figures of eight; and inscribed 
 upon the ice, without once stopping for breath, a great many other 
 pleasant and astonishing devices, to the excessive satisfaction of Mr. 
 Pickwick, Mr. Tupraan, and the ladies; which reached a pitch of positive 
 enthusiasm, when old Wardle and Benjamin Allen, assisted by the afore- 
 said .Bob Sawyer, performed some mystic evolutions, which they called 
 a reel. 
 
 All this time, Mr. Winkle, with his face and hands blue vith the 
 cold, had been forcing a gimlet into the soles of his feet, and putting 
 his skaits on, with the points behind, and getting the straps into a very 
 complicated and entangled state, with the assistance of Mr. Snodgrass, 
 who knew rather less about skaits than a Hindoo. At length, however, 
 with the assistance of Mr. Weller, the unfortunate skaits were firmly 
 screwed and buckled on, and Mr. Winkle was raised to his feet. 
 
 "Now, then, Sir," said Sam, in an encouraging tone; " off vith 
 you, and show 'em how to do it." 
 
 ct Stop, Sam, stop," said Mr. Winkle, trembling violently, and clutch- 
 ing hold of Sam's arms with the grasp of a drowning man. " How 
 slippery it is, Sam I"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 311 
 
 " Not an uncommon thing upon ice, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 " Hold up, Sir." 
 
 This last observation of Mr. Weller's bore reference to a demonstra- 
 tion Mr. Winkle made at the instant, of a frantic desire to throw his 
 feet in the air, and dash the back of his head on the ice. 
 
 " These these are very awkward skaits ; ain't they, Sam ? " en- 
 quired Mr. Winkle, staggering. 
 
 " I'm afeerd there's an orkard gen'lm'n in "em, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " Now, Winkle," cried Mr. Pickwick, quite unconscious that there 
 was anything the matter. " Come ; the ladies are all anxiety." 
 
 " Yes, yes," replied Mr. Winkle, with a ghastly smile. "I'm coming." 
 
 " Just a goin' to begin," said Sam, endeavouring to disengage himself. 
 " Now, Sir, start off." 
 
 " Stop an instant, Sam," gasped Mr. Winkle, clinging most affec- 
 tionately to Mr. Weller. " I find I've got a couple of coats at home, that 
 I don't want, Sam. You may have them, Sam." 
 
 " Thank'ee, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Never mind touching your hat, Sam," said Mr. Winkle, hastily. 
 " You needn't take your hand away, to do that. I meant to have given 
 you five shillings this morning for a Christmas-box, 5am. I'll give it 
 you this afternoon, Sam." 
 
 " You're wery good, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Just hold me at first, Sara; will you?" said Mr. Winkle. " There 
 that's right. I shall soon get in the way of it, Sam. Not too fast, 
 Sam ; not too fast." 
 
 Mr. Winkle, stooping forward with his body half doubled up, was 
 being assisted over the ice by Mr. Weller, in a very singular and 
 un-swan-like manner, when Mr. Pickwick most innocently shouted from 
 the opposite bank 
 
 Sam !" 
 
 Sir?" said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Here. I want you." 
 
 " Let go, Sir/' said Sam. " Don't you hear the governor a callin' ? 
 Let go, Sir." 
 
 With a violent effort, Mr. Weller disengaged himself from the grasp 
 of the agonized Pickwickian ; and, in so doing, administered a consider- 
 able impetus to the unhappy Mr. Winkle. With an accuracy which 
 no degree of dexterity or practice could have ensured, that unfortunate 
 gentleman bore swiftly down into the centre of the reel, at the very 
 moment when Mr. Bob Sawyer was performing a flourish of unparalleled 
 beauty. Mr. Winkle struck wildly against him, and with a loud crash 
 they both fell heavily down. Mr. Pickwick ran to the spot. Bob Saw- 
 yer had risen to his feet, but Mr. Winkle was far too wise to do any- 
 thing of the kind in skaits. He was seated on the ice, making spasmo- 
 dic efforts to smile ; but anguish was depicted on every lineament of his 
 countenance. 
 
 " Are you hurt ?" enquired Mr. Benjamin Allen, with great 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Not much," said Mr. Winkle, rubbing his back very hard.
 
 312 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I wish you'd let me bleed you," said Mr. Benjamin with great eager- 
 ness. 
 
 " No, thank you," replied Mr. Winkle hurriedly. 
 
 " I really think you had better," said Allen. 
 
 ' Thank you," replied Mr. Winkle ; " I'd rather not." 
 
 " What do you think, Mr. Pickwick ? " enquired Bob Sawyer. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was excited and indignant. He beckoned to Mr. Wel- 
 ler, and said in a stern voice, " Take his skaits off." 
 
 " No ; but really I had scarcely begun," remonstrated Mr. Winkle. 
 
 11 Take his skaits off," repeated Mr. Pickwick firmly. 
 
 The command was not to be resisted. Mr. Winkle allowed Sam to 
 obey it, in silence. 
 
 " Lift him up," said Mr. Pickwick. Sam assisted him to rise. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick retired a few paces apart from the by-standers ; and, 
 beckoning his friend to approach, fixed a searching look upon him, and 
 uttered in a low, but distinct and emphatic tone, these remarkable 
 words : 
 
 " You're a humbug, Sir." 
 
 A what !" said Mr. Winkle, starting. 
 
 " A humbug, Sir. I will speak plainer, if you wish it. An impostor, 
 Sir." 
 
 With these words, Mr. Pickwick turned slowly on his heel, and 
 rejoined his friends. 
 
 While Mr. Pickwick was delivering himself of the sentiment just 
 recorded, Mr. Weller and the fat boy, having by their joint endeavours 
 cut out a slide, were exercising themselves thereupon, in a very masterly 
 and brilliant manner. Sam Weller, in particular, was displaying that 
 beautiful feat of fancy sliding which is currently denominated "knock- 
 ing at the cobbler's door," and which is achieved by skimming over the 
 ice on one foot, and occasionally giving a two-penny postman's knock 
 upon it, with the other. It was a good long slide, and there was some- 
 thing in the motion which Mr. Pickwick, who was very cold with stand- 
 ing still, could not help envying. 
 
 " It looks a nice warm exercise that, doesn't it?" he enquired of 
 Wardle, when that gentleman was thoroughly out of breath, by reason 
 of the indefatigable manner in which he had converted his legs into a 
 pair of compasses, and drawn complicated problems on the ice. 
 
 "Ah, it does, indeed," replied Wardle. " Do you slide ?" 
 
 " I used to do so, on the gutters, when I was a boy," replied Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " Try it now," said Wardle. 
 
 " Oh, do, please Mr. Pickwick," cried all the ladies. 
 
 " I should be very happy to afford you any amusement," replied Mr 
 Pickwick, " but I haven't done such a thing these thirty years." 
 
 "Pooh! pooh! nonsense!" said Wardle, dragging off his skaits 
 with the impetuosity which characterised all his proceedings. " Here ; 
 I'll keep you company ; come along." And away went the good tem- 
 pered old fellow down the slide, with a rapidity which came very close 
 upon Mr. Weller, and beat the fat boy all to nothing.

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 313 
 
 Mr. Pickwick paused, considered, pulled off his gloves and put them 
 in his hat, took two or three short runs, baulked himself as often, and 
 at last took another run and went slowly and gravely down the slide, 
 with his feet about a yard and a quarter apart, amidst the gratified shouts 
 of all the spectators. 
 
 " Keep the pot a bilin', Sir," said Sam ; and down went Wardle again, 
 and then Mr. Pickwick, and then Sam, and then Mr. Winkle, and then 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer, and then the fat boy, and then Mr. Snodgrass, follow- 
 ing closely upon each other's heels, and running after each other with, 
 as much eagerness as if all their future prospects in life depended on 
 their expedition. 
 
 It was the most intensely interesting thing, to observe the manner in 
 which Mr. Pickwick performed his share in the ceremony : to watch the 
 torture of anxiety with which he viewed the person behind, gaining 
 upon him at the imminent hazard of tripping him up : to see him gra- 
 dually expend the painful force which he had put on at first, and turn 
 slowly round on the slide, with bis face towards the point from which he 
 had started : to contemplate the playful smile which mantled on his face 
 when he had accomplished the distance, and the eagerness with which 
 he turned round when he had done so, and ran after his predecessor, his 
 black gaiters tripping pleasantly through the snow, and his eyes beam- 
 ing cheerfulness and gladness through his spectacles. And when he 
 was knocked down, (which happened upon the average every third round), 
 it was the most invigorating sight that can possibly be imagined, to 
 behold him gather up his hat, gloves, and handkerchief, with a glowing 1 
 countenance, and resume his station in the rank, with an ardour and 
 enthusiasm which nothing could abate. 
 
 The sport was at its height, the sliding was at the quickest, the 
 laughter was at the loudest, when a sharp smart crack was heard. 
 There was a quick rush towards the bank, a wild scream from the ladies, 
 and a shout from Mr. Tupman. A large mass of ice disappeared, the 
 water bubbled up over it, and Mr. Pickwick's hat, gloves, and handker- 
 chief were floating on the surface ; and this was all of Mr. Pickwick that 
 anybody could see. 
 
 Dismay and anguish were depicted on every countenance ; the males 
 turned pale, and the females fainted ; Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle 
 grasped each other by the hand, and gazed at the spot where their leader 
 had gone down, with frenzied eagerness ; while Mr. Tupman, by way 
 of rendering the promptest assistance, and at the same time conveying 
 to any persons who might be within hearing, the clearest possible notion 
 of the catastrophe, ran off across the country at his utmost speed, 
 screaming " Fire ! " with all his might and main. 
 
 It was at this very moment, when old Wardle and Sam Weller were 
 approaching the hole with cautious steps, and Mr. Benjamin Allen was 
 holding a hurried consultation with Mr. Bob Sawyer, on the advisability 
 of bleeding the company generally, as an improving little bit of profes- 
 sional practice it was at this very moment that a face, head, and 
 shoulders emerged from beneath the water, and disclosed the features 
 and spectacles of Mr. Pickwick.
 
 314 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Keep yourself up for an instant for only one instant," bawled Mr. 
 Snodgrass. 
 
 " Yes, do ; let me implore you for my sake," roared Mr. Winkle, 
 deeply affected. The adjuration was rather unnecessary ; the probability 
 being, that if Mr. Pickwick had declined to keep himself up for any- 
 body else's sake, it would have occurred to him that he might as well 
 do so, for his own. 
 
 " Do you feel the bottom there, old fellow?" said Wardle. 
 
 " Yes, certainly," replied Mr. Pickwick, wringing the water from his 
 head and face, and gasping for breath. " I fell upon my back. I couldn't 
 get on my feet at first." 
 
 The clay upon so much of Mr. Pickwick's coat as was yet visible, 
 bore testimony to the accuracy of this statement; and as the fears of 
 the spectators were still further relieved by the fat boy's suddenly 
 recollecting that the water was nowhere more than five feet deep, 
 prodigies of valour were performed to get him out. After a vast quan- 
 tity of splashing, and cracking, and struggling, Mr. Pickwick was at 
 length fairly extricated from his unpleasant position, and once more 
 stood on dry land. 
 
 " Oh, he'll catch his death of cold," said Emily. 
 
 " Dear old thing !" said Arabella. " Let me wrap this shawl round 
 you, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " Ah, that's the best thing you can do," said Wardle ; " and when 
 you've got it on, run home as fast as your legs can carry you, and jump 
 into bed directly." 
 
 A dozen shawls were offered on the instant ; and three or four of the 
 thickest having been selected, Mr. Pickwick was wrapped up, and 
 started off, under the guidance of Mr. Weller ; presenting the singular 
 phenomenon of an elderly gentleman dripping wet, and without a hat, 
 with his arms bound down to his sides, skimming over the ground with- 
 out any clearly defined purpose, at the rate of six good English miles an 
 hour. 
 
 But Mr. Pickwick cared not for appearances in such an extreme case, 
 and urged on by Sam Weller, he kept at the very top of his speed until 
 he reached the door of Manor Farm, where Mr. Tupman had arrived 
 some five minutes before, and had frightened the old lady into palpita- 
 tions of the heart, by impressing her with the unalterable conviction, 
 that the kitchen chimney was on fire a calamity which always pre- 
 sented itself in the most glowing colours to the old lady's mind, when 
 anybody about her evinced the smallest agitation. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick paused not an instant until he was snug in bed. Sam 
 Weller lighted a blazing fire in the room, and took up his dinner ; a 
 bowl of punch was carried up afterwards, and a grand carouse held in 
 honour of his safety. Old Wardle would not hear of his rising, so they 
 made the bed the chair, and Mr. Pickwick presided. A second and a 
 third bowl were ordered in ; and when Mr. Pickwick awoke next morn- 
 ing, there was not a symptom of rheumatism about him, which proves, 
 as Mr. Bob Sawyer very justly observed, that there is nothing like hot 
 punch in such cases, and that if ever hot punch did fail to act as a pre-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 315 
 
 ventive, it was merely because the patient fell into the vulgar error of 
 not taking- enough of it. 
 
 The jovial party broke up next morning. Breakings up are capital 
 things in our school days, but in after life they are painful enough. 
 Death, self-interest, and fortune's changes, are every day breaking 
 up many a happy group and scattering them far and wide ; and the boys 
 and girls never come back again. We do not mean to say that it was 
 exactly the case in this particular instance ; all we wish to inform the 
 reader is, that the different members of the party dispersed to their 
 several homes ; that Mr. Pickwick and his friends once more took their 
 seats on the top of the Muggleton coach ; and that Arabella Allen 
 repaired to her place of destination, wherever it might have been we 
 dare say Mr. Winkle knew, but we confess we don't under the care 
 and guardianship of her brother Benjamin, and his most intimate and 
 particular friend, Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 Before they separated, however, that gentleman and Mr. Benjamin 
 Allen drew Mr. Pickwick aside with an air of some mystery ; and Mr. 
 Bob Sawyer thrusting his forefinger between two of Mr. Pickwick's ribs, 
 and thereby displaying his native drollery, and his knowledge of the 
 anatomy of the human frame, at one and the same time, enquired 
 
 " I say, old boy, where do you hang out ?" 
 
 Mr. Pickwick replied that he was at present suspended at the George 
 and Vulture. 
 
 " I wish you'd come and see me," said Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " Nothing would give me greater pleasure," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " There's my lodgings," said Mr. Bob Sawyer, producing a card, 
 " Lant Street, Borough ; it's near Guy's, and handy for me you know. 
 Little distance after you've passed Saint George's Church turns out of 
 the High Street on the right hand side the way." 
 
 " I shall find it," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Come on Thursday week, and bring the other chaps with you," said 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer, " I'm going to have a few medical fellows that night." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick expressed the pleasure it would afford him to meet the 
 medical fellows ; and after Mr. Bob Sawyer had informed him that he 
 meant to be very cosey, and that his friend Ben was to be one of the 
 party, they shook hands and separated. 
 
 We feel that in this place we lay ourself open to the enquiry whether 
 Mr. Winkle was whispering, during this brief conversation, to Arabella 
 Allen, and if so, what he said ; and furthermore, whether Mr. Snodgrass 
 was conversing apart with Emily Wardle, and if so, what he said. To 
 this, we reply, that whatever they might have said to the ladies, they 
 said nothing at all to Mr. Pickwick or Mr. Tupman for eight-and-twenty 
 miles, and that they sighed very often, refused ale and brandy, and 
 looked gloomy. If our observant lady readers can deduce any satisfac- 
 tory inferences from these facts, we beg them by all means to do so.
 
 316 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 WHICH IS ALL ABOUT THE LAW, AND SUNDRY GREAT 
 AUTHORITIES LEARNED THEREIN. 
 
 SCATTERED about, in various holes and corners of the Temple, are 
 certain dark and dirty chambers, in and out of which, all the morning 
 in Vacation, and half the evening too in Term time, there may be seen 
 constantly hurrying with bundles of papers under their arms, and pro- 
 truding from their pockets, an almost uninterrupted succession of 
 Lawyers' Clerks, There are several grades of Lawyers' Clerks. 
 There is the Articled Clerk, who has paid a premium, and is an attorney 
 in perspective, who runs a tailor's bill, receives invitations to parties, 
 knows a family in Gower Street and another in Tavistock Square, 
 goes out of town every Long Vacation to see his father, who keeps 
 live horses innumerable ; and who is, in short, the very aristocrat of 
 clerks. There is the salaried clerk out of door, or in door, as the 
 case may be who devotes the major part of his thirty shillings a week 
 to his personal pleasure and adornment, repairs half-price to the 
 Adelphi at least three times a week, dissipates majestically at the cider 
 cellars afterwards, and is a dirty caricature of the fashion, which expired 
 six months ago. There is the middle-aged copying clerk, with a large 
 family, who is always shabby, and often drunk. And there are the 
 office lads in their first surtouts, who feel a befitting contempt for boys 
 at day-schools, club as they go home at night, for saveloys and porter, 
 and think there's nothing like " life." There are varieties of the 
 genus too numerous to recapitulate, but however numerous they may 
 be, they are all to be seen, at certain regulated business hours, hurrying 
 to and from the places we have just mentioned. 
 
 These sequestered nooks are the public offices of the legal profession, 
 where writs are issued, judgments signed, declarations filed, and numer- 
 ous other ingenious little machines put in motion for the torture and 
 torment of His Majesty's liege subjects, and the comfort and emolu- 
 ment of the practitioners of the law. They are, for the most part, low- 
 roofed, mouldy rooms, where innumerable rolls of parchment, which have 
 been perspiring in secret for the last century, send forth an agreeable 
 odour, which is mingled by day with the scent of the dry rot, and by 
 night with the various exhalations which arise from damp cloaks, fester- 
 ing umbrellas, and the coarsest tallow candles. 
 
 About half-past seven o'clock in the evening, some ten days or a 
 fortnight after Mr. Pickwick and his friends returned to London, there 
 hurried into one of these offices, an individual in a brown coat and brass 
 buttons, whose long hair was scrupulously twisted round the rim of his 
 napless hat, and whose soiled drab trousers were so tightly strapped over 
 his Blucher boots, that his knees threatened every moment to start from 
 their concealment. He produced from his coat pockets a long and nar- 
 row strip of parchment, on which the presiding functionary impressed an
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 317 
 
 illegible black stamp. He then drew forth four scraps of paper, of 
 similar dimensions, each containing a printed copy of the strip of parch- 
 ment with blanks for a name ; and having filled up the blanks, put all 
 the five documents in his pocket, and hurried away. 
 
 The man in the brown coat with the cabalistic documents in his 
 pocket, was no other than our old acquaintance Mr. Jackson, of the 
 house of Dodson and Fogg, Freeman's Court, Cornhill. Instead of 
 returning to the office from whence he came, however, he bent his steps 
 direct to Sun Court, and walking straight into the George and Vulture, 
 demanded to know whether one Mr. Pickwick was within. 
 
 " Call Mr. Pickwick's servant, Tom," said the barmaid of the George 
 and Vulture. 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself," said Mr. Jackson, " I've come on business. 
 If you'll show me Mr. Pickwick's room, I'll step up myself." 
 
 " What name, Sir ?" said the waiter. 
 
 " Jackson," replied the clerk. 
 
 The waiter stepped up stairs to announce Mr. Jackson, but Mr. Jack- 
 son saved him the trouble by following close at his heels, and walking 
 into the apartment before he could articulate a syllable. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had that day invited bis three friends to dinner ; and 
 they were all seated round the fire, drinking their wine, when Mr. Jack- 
 son presented himself, as above described. 
 
 " How de do, Sir," said Mr. Jackson, nodding to Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 That gentleman bowed, and looked somewhat surprised, for the phy- 
 siognomy of Mr. Jackson dwelt not in his recollection. 
 
 " I have called from Dodson and Fogg's," said Mr. Jackson, in an 
 explanatory tone. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick roused at the name. " I refer you to my attorney 
 Sir : Mr. Perker, of Gray's Inn," said he. " Waiter, show this gentle- 
 man out." 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Mr. Pickw ick," said Jackson, deliberately deposit- 
 ing his hat on the floor, and drawing from his pocket the strip of parch- 
 ment. " But personal service, by clerk or agent, in these cases, you 
 know, Mr. Pickwick eh, Sir ? nothing like caution, Sir, in all legal 
 forms eh ?" 
 
 Here Mr. Jackson cast his eye on the parchment ; and, resting his 
 hands on the table, and looking round with a winning and persuasive 
 smile, said, " Now come ; don't let's have no words about such a little 
 matter as this. Which of you gentlemen's name's Snodgrass ?" 
 
 At this inquiry, Mr. Snodgrass gave such a very undisguised and palp- 
 able start, that no further reply was needed. 
 
 " Ah I I thought so," said Mr. Jackson, more affably than before. 
 " I've got a little something to trouble you with, Sir." 
 
 " Me !" exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " It's only a subpoena in Bardell and Pickwick on behalf of the plain- 
 tiff," replied Jackson, singling out one of the slips of paper, and produc- 
 ing a shilling from his waistcoat-pocket. " It'll come on, in the set- 
 tens after Term; fourteenth of Febooary, we expect ; we've marked it a 
 special jury cause, and it's only ten down the paper. That's yours, Mr.
 
 318 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Snodgrass." As Jackson said this, he presented the parchment before the 
 eyes of Mr. Snodgrass, and slipped the paper and the shilling into his 
 hand. 
 
 Mr. Tupmanhad witnessed this process in silent astonishment, when 
 Jackson, turning sharply upon him, said : 
 
 "I think I ain't mistaken when I say your name's Tupman, am I?" 
 
 Mr. Tupman looked at Mr. Pickwick ; but, perceiving no encourage- 
 ment in that gentleman's widely-opened eyes to deny his name, said : 
 
 " Yes, my name is Tupman, Sir." 
 
 "And that other gentleman's Mr. Winkle, I think," said Jackson. 
 
 Mr. Winkle faltered out a reply in the affirmative ; and both gen- 
 tlemen were forthwith invested with a slip of paper, and a shilling each, 
 by the dexterous Mr. Jackson. 
 
 " Now," said Jackson, " I'm afraid you'll think me rather trouble- 
 some, but I want somebody else, if it ain't inconvenient. I have Samuel 
 Weller's name here, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " Send my servant here, waiter," said Mr. Pickwick. The waiter 
 retired, considerably astonished, and Mr. Pickwick motioned Jackson to 
 a seat. 
 
 There was a painful pause, which was at length broken by the inno- 
 cent defendant. 
 
 " I suppose, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, his indignation rising while he 
 spoke ; " I suppose, Sir, that it is the intention of your employers to 
 seek to criminate me, upon the testimony of my own friends ? " 
 
 Mr. Jackson struck his fore-finger several times against the left 
 side of his nose, to intimate that he was not there to disclose the secrets 
 of the prison-house, and playfully rejoined, 
 
 " Not knowin', can't say." 
 
 " For what other reason, Sir," pursued Mr. Pickwick, " are these 
 subposnas served upon them, if not for this ?" 
 
 " Very good plant, Mr. Pickwick," replied Jackson, slowly shaking 
 his head. " But it won't do. No harm in trying, but there's little 
 to be got out of me." 
 
 Here Mr. Jackson smiled once more upon the company ; and, apply- 
 ing his left thumb to the tip of his nose, worked a visionary coffee-mill 
 with his right hand, thereby performing a very graceful piece of panto- 
 mime (then much in vogue, but now, unhappily, almost obsolete) which 
 was familiarly denominated " taking a grinder." 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Pickwick," said Jackson in conclusion ; " Perker's 
 people must guess what we've served these subpoenas for. If they can't, 
 they must wait till the action comes on, and then they'll find out." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick bestowed a look of excessive disgust on his unwelcome 
 visitor, and would probably have hurled some tremendous anathema at 
 the heads of Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, had not Sam's entrance at the 
 instant interrupted him. 
 
 " Samuel Weller?" said Mr. Jackson, enquiringly. 
 
 " Vun o' the truest things as you've said for many a long year /'replied 
 Sam, in a most composed manner. 
 
 " Here's a subpoena for you, Mr. Weller," said Jackson.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 319 
 
 " What's that in English ?' enquired Sam. 
 
 " Here's the original," said Jackson, declining the required explana- 
 tion. 
 
 "Which?" said Sam. 
 
 " This," replied Jackson, shaking the parchment. 
 
 " Oh, that's the 'rig'nal, is it ?" said Sam. " Well, I'm wery glad 
 I've seen the 'rig'nal, 'cos it's a gratifyin' sort o' thing, and eases vun's 
 mind so much." 
 
 " And here's the shilling," said Jackson. " It's from Dodson and 
 Fogg's." 
 
 " And it's uncommon handsome o' Dodson and Fogg, as knows so 
 little of me, to come down vith a present," said Sam. " I feel it as a 
 wery high compliment, Sir; and it's a wery hon'rable thing to them, as 
 they knows how to reward merit verever they meets it. Besides vich, 
 it's wery affectin' to one's feelin's." 
 
 As Mr. Weller said this, he inflicted a little friction on his right eye- 
 lid, with the sleeve of his coat, after the most approved manner of actors 
 when they are in domestic pathetics. 
 
 Mr. Jackson seemed rather puzzled by Sam's proceedings ; but, as 
 he had served the subpoenas, and had nothing more to say, he made a 
 feint of putting on the one glove which he usually carried in his hand, 
 for the sake of appearances ; and returned to the office to report pro- 
 gress. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick slept little that night ; his memory had received a very 
 disagreeable refresher on the subject of Mrs. Bardell's action. He 
 breakfasted betimes next morning ; and, desiring Sam to accompany 
 him, set forth towards Gray's Inn square. 
 
 " Sam !" said Mr. Pickwick, looking round, when they got to the end 
 of Cheapside. 
 
 " Sir?" said Sam, stepping up to his master. 
 
 " Which way ?" 
 
 " Up Newgate-street." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick did not turn round immediately, but looked vacantly 
 in Sam's face for a few seconds, and heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 "What's the matter, Sir?" enquired Sam. 
 
 " This action, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " is expected to come on, on 
 the fourteenth of next month." 
 
 " Remarkable coincidence that 'ere, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " Why remarkable, Sam ?" enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Walentine's day, Sir," responded Sam ; " reg'lar good day for a breach 
 o' promise trial." 
 
 Mr. Weller's smile awakened no gleam of mirth in his master's coun- 
 tenance. Mr. Pickwick turned abruptly round, and led the way in 
 silence. 
 
 They had walked some distance, Mr. Pickwick trotting on before, 
 plunged in profound meditation, and Sam following behind, with a coun- 
 tenance expressive of the most enviable and easy defiance of everything 
 and everybody, when the latter, who was always especially anxious to 
 impart to his master any exclusive information he possessed, quickened
 
 320 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 his pace until he was close at Mr. Pickwick's heels ; and, pointing up 
 at a house they were passing, said, 
 
 ' Wery nice pork-shop that 'ere, Sir." 
 
 ' Yes, it seems so," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 ' Celebrated Sassage factory," said Sam. 
 
 ' Is it ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 'Is it!" reiterated Sara with some indignation; "I should rayther 
 think it was. Why sir, bless your innocent eyebrows, that's vere the 
 mysterious disappearance of a respectable tradesman took place, four 
 year ago." 
 
 " You don't mean to say he was burked, Sam ?" said Mr. Pickwick, 
 looking hastily round. 
 
 " No I don't indeed, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, " I vish I did ; far worse 
 than that. He was the master o' that 'ere shop, Sir, and the inwenter o' 
 the patent-never-leavin-off sassage steam 'ingine, as ud swaller up a 
 pavin' stone if you put it too near, and grind it into sassages as easy as 
 if it was a tender young babby. Wery proud o' that machine he 
 was, as it was nat'ral he should be ; and he'd stand down in the celler 
 a lookin' at it, ven it was in full play, till he got quite melancholy with 
 joy. A wery happy man he'd ha' been, Sir, in the procession o' that 
 'ere ingine and two more lovely hinfants besides, if it hadn't been for his 
 wife, who was a most ow-dacious wixin. She was always a follerin' him 
 about, and dinnin' in his ears 'till at last he couldn't stand it no longer. 
 * I'll tell you what it is, my dear,' he says one day ; * If you persewere 
 in this here sort of amusement,' he says, ' I'm blessed if I don't go away to 
 'Merriker; and that's -all about it.' 'You're a idle willin,' says she, 
 'and I wish the 'Merrikins joy of their bargin.' Arter vich she keeps 
 on abusin' him for half an hour, and then runs into the little parlour 
 behind the shop, sets to a screamin', says he'll be the death on her, and 
 falls in a fit, which lasts for three good hours one o' them fits which is 
 all screamin' and kickin'. Well, next mornin', the husband was missin*. 
 He hadn't taken nothin' from the till, hadn't even put on his great 
 coat, so it was quite clear he warn't gone to 'Merriker. Didn't come 
 back next day, didn't come back next week ; the Missis had bills printed 
 sayin' that, if he'd come back, he should be forgiven everything (which 
 was very liberal, seein' that he hadn't done nothin' at all,) all the canals 
 was dragged, and for two months arterwards venever a body turned up, it 
 was carried, as a reg'lar thing, straight off to the sassage shop. P . \vs'- 
 ever none on 'em answered, so they gave out that he'd run avay, and 
 she kept on the bis'ness. One Saturday night, a little thin old gen'lm'n 
 comes into the shop in a great passion and says, ' Are you the missis o' 
 this here shop ?' ' Yes I am,' says she. ' Well Ma'am,' says he, ' then 
 I've just looked in to say, that me and my family ain't a goin' to be 
 choaked for nothin' ; and more than that Ma'am,' he says, ' you'll allow 
 me to observe, that as you don't use the primest parts of the meat in the 
 manafacter o' sassages, I think you'd find beef come nearly as cheap 
 as buttons.' Buttons, Sir !' says she, ' Buttons, Ma'am,' says the little 
 old gentleman, unfolding a bit of paper, and shewin' twenty or thirty 
 halves o' buttons. * Nice seasonin' for sassages, is trousers' buttons,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 321 
 
 Ma'am.' They're my husband's buttons,' says the widder, beginnin' to 
 faint. ' What !' screams the little old gen'lm'n, turnin' wery pale. 'I 
 see it all,' says the widder ; ' in a fit of temporary insanity he rashly 
 converted his-self into sassages !' And so he had, Sir," said Mr. Weller, 
 looking steadily into Mr. Pickwick's horror-stricken countenance, " or 
 else he'd been draw'd into the ingine, but however that might ha' been, 
 the little old gen'lm'n, who had been remarkably partial to sassages all 
 his life, rushed out o' the shop in a wild state, and was never heerd on 
 artervards ! " 
 
 The relation of this affecting incident of private life, brought master 
 and man to Mr. Perker's chambers. Lowten, holding the door half 
 open, was in conversation with a rustily-clad, miserable looking man, in 
 boots without toes, and gloves without fingers. There were traces of 
 privation and suffering almost of despair in his lank and care-worn 
 countenance ; he felt his poverty, for he shrunk to the dark sideof the 
 staircase as Mr. Pickwick approached. 
 
 " It's very unfortunate," said the stranger with a sigh. 
 
 " Very," said Lowten, scribbling his name on the door post with his 
 pen and rubbing it out again with the feather. " Will you leave a mes- 
 sage for him ? " 
 
 " When do you think he'll be back? " enquired the stranger. 
 
 " Quite uncertain," replied Lowten, winking at Mr. Pickwick, as the 
 stranger cast his eyes towards the ground. 
 
 " You don't think it would be of any use my waiting for him ?" said 
 the stranger, looking wistfully into the office. 
 
 " Oh no, I'm sure it wouldn't," replied the clerk, moving a little more 
 into the centre of the door-way. " He's certain not to be back this 
 week, and^it's a chance whether he will, next, for when Perker once 
 gets out of town, he's never in a hurry to come back again." 
 
 " Out of town !" said Mr. Pickwick; " dear me, how unfortunate !" 
 
 " Don't go away, Mr. Pickwick," said Lowten, " I've got a letter for 
 you." The stranger seeming to hesitate, once more looked towards the 
 ground, and the clerk winked slily at Mr. Pickwick as if to intimate that 
 some exquisite piece of humour was going forward; though what it was, 
 Mr. Pickwick could not, for the life of him, divine. 
 
 " Step in, Mr. Pickwick, "said Lowten. " Well, will you leave a mes- 
 sage, Mr. Watty, or will you call again ? " 
 
 " Ask him to be so kind as to leave out word what has been done in 
 my bv iness," said the man ; " for God's sake don't neglect it, Mr. 
 Lowten." 
 
 " No, no ; I won't forget it," replied the clerk. " Walk in, Mr. Pick- 
 wick. Good morning, Mr. Watty ; it's a fine day for walking, isn't 
 it?" And, seeing that the stranger stilt lingered, he beckoned Sam 
 Weller to follow his master in, and shut the door in his face. 
 
 " There never was such a pestering bankrupt as that, since the world 
 began, I do believe !" said Lowten, throwing down his pen with the air 
 of an injured man. " His affairs haven't been in chancery quite four 
 years yet, and I'm d d if he don't come worrying here twice a-week. 
 Step this way, Mr. Pickwick. Perker is in, and he'll see you, I know.
 
 322 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Devilish cold," he added pettishly, " standing at that door, wasting one's 
 time with such seedy vagabonds." And, having very vehemently stirred 
 a particularly large fire, with a particularly small poker, the clerk led the 
 way to bis principal's private room, and announced Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah, my dear Sir," said little Mr. Perker, bustling up from his chair ; 
 "Well, my dear Sir, and what's the news about your matter eh? Any- 
 thing more about our friends in Freeman's-court ? They've not been 
 sleeping, / know that. Ah, they're very smart fellows very smart, 
 indeed." 
 
 As the little man concluded, he took an emphatic pinch of snuff, as 
 a tribute to the smartness of Messrs. Dodson and Fogg. 
 
 " They are great scoundrels," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Aye, aye," said the little man ; "that's a mere matter of opinion, 
 you know, and we won't dispute about terms ; because of course you 
 can't be expected to view these subjects with a professional eye. Well, 
 we've done everything that's necessary. I have retained Serjeant Snub- 
 bin." 
 
 " Is he a good man ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Good man !" replied Perker; " bless your heart and soul, my dear 
 Sir, Serjeant Snubbin is at the very top of his profession. Gets treble 
 the business of any man in court engaged in every case. You 
 needn't mention it abroad ; but we say we of the profession that Ser- 
 jeant Snubbin leads the court by the nose." 
 
 The little man took another pinch of snuff as he made this communi- 
 cation, and nodded mysteriously to Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " They have subpcena'd my three friends," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Ah ! of course they would," replied Perker. " Important wit- 
 nesses ; saw you in a delicate situation." 
 
 " But she fainted of her own accord," said Mr. Pickwick. " She 
 threw herself into my arms." 
 
 " Very likely, my dear Sir," replied Perker; "very likely. and very 
 natural. Nothing more so, my dear Sir nothing. But who's to 
 prove it?" 
 
 "They have subpcena'd my servant too," said Mr. Pickwick, quitting 
 the other point ; for there Mr. Perker's question had somewhat staggered 
 him. 
 
 " Sam ?" said Perker. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " Of course, my dear Sir ; of course. I knew they would ; I could 
 have told^ow that, a month ago. You know, my dear Sir, if you will 
 take the management of your affairs into your own hands after entrust- 
 ing them to your Solicitor, you must also take the consequences." Here 
 Mr. Perker drew himself up with conscious dignity, and brushed some 
 stray grains of snuff from his shirt frill. 
 
 " And what do they want him to prove?" asked Mr. Pickwick, after 
 two or three minutes' silence. 
 
 " That you sent him up to the Plaintiff's to make some offer of a 
 compromise, I suppose," replied Perker. " It don't matter much, though 
 I don't think many counsel could get a great deal out of him."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 323 
 
 " I don't think they could," said Mr. Pickwick ; smiling-, despite his 
 vexation, at the idea of Sam's appear nee as a witness. " What course 
 do we pursue ? " 
 
 " We have only one to adopt, my dear Sir," replied Perker; "cross- 
 examine the witnesses, trust to Snubbin's eloquence, throw dust in the 
 eyes of the judge ; and ourselves on the jury." 
 
 " And suppose the verdict is against me?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Mr. Perker smiled, took a very long pinch of snuff, stirred the fire, 
 shrugged his shoulders, and remained expressively silent. 
 
 " You mean that in that case I must pay the damages ? " said Mr. 
 Pickwick, who had watched this telegraphic answer with considerable 
 sternness. 
 
 Perkor gave the fire another very unnecessary poke, and said " I am 
 afraid so." 
 
 " Then I beg to announce to you, my unalterable determination to 
 pay no damages whatever," said Mr. Pickwick most emphatically. 
 " None, Perker. Not a pound, not a penny, of my money shall find its 
 way into the pockets of Dodson and Fogg. That is my deliberate 
 and irrevocable determination." And Mr. Pickwick gave a heavy blow 
 on the table beside him, in confirmation of the irrevocability of his 
 intention. 
 
 " Very well, my dear Sir, very well," said Perker. " You know best, 
 of course." 
 
 " Of course," replied Mr. Pickwick hastily.-- " Where does Serjeant 
 Snubbin live ? " 
 
 " In Lincoln's Inn Old Square," replied Perker. 
 
 " I should like to see him," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " See Serjeant Snubbin, my dear Sir ! " rejoined Perker, in utter 
 amazement. " Pooh, pooh, my dear Sir, impossible. See Serjeant 
 Snubbin I Bless you, my dear Sir, such a thing was never heard 
 of, without a consultation fee being previously paid, and a consultation 
 fixed. It couldn't be done, my dear Sir; it couldn't be done." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, however, had made up his mind not only that it could 
 be done, but that it should be done ; and the consequence was, that 
 within ten minutes after he had received the assurance that the thing 
 was impossible, he was conducted by his solicitor into the outer office 
 of the great Serjeant Snubbin himself. 
 
 It was an uncarpeted room of tolerable dimensions, with a large 
 writing-table drawn up near the fire, the baize top of which had long 
 since lost all claim to its original hue of green, and had gradually 
 grown grey with dust and age, except where all traces of its natural 
 colour were obliterated by ink-stains. Upon the table were numerous 
 little bundles of papers tied w ith red tape ; and behind it, sat an elderly 
 clerk, whose sleek appearance and heavy gold watch-chain presented 
 imposing indications of the extensive and lucrative practice of Mr. 
 Serjeant Snubbin. 
 
 " Is the Serjeant in his room, Mr. Mallard ? " inquired Perker, 
 offering his box with all imaginable courtesy. 
 
 " Yes he is," was the reply, " but he's very busy. Look here ; not
 
 324 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 an opinion given yet, on any one of these cases ; and an expedition 
 fee paid with all of them." The clerk smiled as he said this, and 
 inhaled the pinch of snuff with a zest which seemed to be compounded 
 of a fondness for snuff and a relish for fees. 
 
 " Something like practice that," said Perker. 
 
 " Yes," said the barrister's clerk, producing his own box, and offering 
 it with the greatest cordiality ; " and the best of it, is, that as nobody 
 alive except myself can read the Serjeant's writing, they are obliged to 
 wait for the opinions, when he has given them, till I have copied 'em, 
 ha ha ha!" 
 
 " Which makes good for we know who, besides the Serjeant, and 
 draws a little more out of the clients, eh ? " said Perker ; " Ha, ha, ha !'' 
 At this the Serjeant's clerk Inughed again not a noisy boisterous laugh, 
 but a silent, internal chuckle, which Mr. Pickwick disliked to hear. 
 When a man bleeds inwardly, it is a dangerous thing for himself; but 
 when he laughs inwardly, it bodes no good to other people. 
 
 <f You haven't made me out that little list of the fees that I'm in 
 your debt, have you ? " said Perker. 
 
 " No, I have not," replied the clerk. 
 
 " I wish you would," said Perker. " Let me have them, and I'll 
 send you a cheque. But I suppose you're too busy pocketing the ready 
 money, to think of the debtors, eh ? ha, ha, ha !" This sally seemed 
 to tickle the clerk amazingly, and be once more enjoyed a little quiet 
 laugh to himself. 
 
 " But, Mr. Mallard, my dear friend," said Perker, suddenly recovering 
 his gravity, and drawing the great man's great man into a corner, by 
 the lappel of his coat, "you must persuade the Serjeant to see me, 
 and my client here." 
 
 " Come, come," said the clerk, " that's not bad either. See the 
 Serjeant ! come, that's too absurd." Notwithstanding the absurdity of 
 the proposal, however, the clerk allowed himself to be gently drawn 
 beyond the hearing of Mr. Pickwick ; and after a short conversation 
 conducted in whispers, walked softly down a little dark passage and 
 disappeared into the legal luminary's sanctum, from whence he shortly 
 returned on tiptoe, and informed Mr. Perker and Mr. Pickwick that 
 the Serjeant had been prevailed upon, in violation of all his established 
 rules and customs, to admit them at once. 
 
 Mr. Serjeant Snubbin was a lantern-faced sallow-complexioned man, 
 of about five-and-forty, or as the novels say he might be fifty. He 
 had that dull-looking boiled eye which is so often to be seen in the heads 
 of people who have applied themselves during many years to a weary 
 and laborious course of study; and which would have been sufficient, 
 without the additional eye-glass which dangled from a broad black 
 riband round his neck, to warn a stranger that he was very near-sighted. 
 His hair was thin and weak, which was partly attributable to his having 
 never devoted much time to its arrangement, and partly to his having 
 worn for five-and-twenty years the forensic wig which hung on a block 
 beside him. The marks of hair-powder on his coat-collar, and the ill- 
 washed and worse tied white neckerchief round his throat, showed that
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 325 
 
 he had not found leisure since he left the court to make any alteration 
 in his dress ; while the slovenly style of the remainder of his costume 
 warranted the inference that his personal appearance would not have 
 been very much improved if he had. Books of practice, heaps of 
 papers, and opened letters, were scattered over the table without any 
 attempt at order or arrangement ; the furniture of the room was old 
 and rickety ; the doors of the book-case were rotting in their hinges ; 
 the dust flew out from the carpet in little clouds at every step ; the 
 blinds were yellow with age and dirt ; and the state of every thing in 
 the room showed, with a clearness not to be mistaken, that Mr. Serjeant 
 Snubbin was fur too much occupied with his professional pursuits to 
 take any great heed or regard of his personal comforts. 
 
 The Serjeant was writing when his clients entered ; he bowed abstract- 
 edly when Mr. Pickwick was introduced by his solicitor ; and then, 
 motioning them to a seat, put his pen carefully in the inkstand, nursed 
 his left leg, and waited to be spoken to. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick is the defendant in Bardell and Pickwick, Serjeant 
 Snubbin/' said Perker. 
 
 " I am retained in that, am I ? " said the Serjeant. 
 
 " You are, Sir," replied Perker. 
 
 The Serjeant nodded his head, and waited for something else. 
 
 "Mr. Pickwick was anxious to call upon you, Serjeant Snubbin," 
 said Perker, " to state to you, before you entered upon the case, that 
 he denies there being any ground or pretence whatever for the action 
 against him ; and that unless he came into court with clean hands, and 
 without the most conscientious conviction that he was right in resisting 
 the plaintiff's demand, he would not be there at all. I believe I state 
 your views correctly ; do I not, my dear Sir ?" said the little man, turning 
 to Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Quite so," replied that gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Serjeant Snubbin unfolded his glasses, raised them to his eyes; 
 and, after looking at Mr. Pickwick for a few seconds with great curiosily, 
 turned to Mr. Perker, and said, smiling slightly as he spoke 
 
 " Has Mr. Pickwick a strong case ? " 
 
 The attorney shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Do you purpose calling witnesses ? " 
 
 " No/' 
 
 The smile on the Serjeant's countenance became more defined ; he 
 rocked his leg with increased violence ; and, throwing himself back in his 
 easy chair, coughed dubiously. 
 
 These tokens of the Serjeant's presentiments on the subject, slight as 
 they were, were not lost on Mr. Pickwick. He settled the spectacles, 
 through which he had attentively regarded such demonstrations of the 
 barrister's feeling as he had permitted himself to exhibit, more firmly on 
 his nose ; and said with great energy, and in utter disregard of all Mr. 
 Perker's admonitory winkings and frownings 
 
 "My wishing to wait upon you for such a purpose as this, Sir, 
 appears, I have no doubt, to a gentleman who sees so much of these 
 matters as you must necessarily do, a very extraordinary circum- 
 stance." B B 2
 
 326 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 The Serjeant tried to look gravely at the fire, but the smile came 
 back again. 
 
 " Gentlemen of your profession, Sir," continued Mr. Pickwick, " see 
 the worst side of human nature all its disputes, all its ill-will and bad 
 blood, rise up before you. You know from your experience of juries 
 (I mean no disparagement to you, or them) how much depends upon 
 effect: and you are apt to attribute to others, a desire to use, for pur- 
 poses of deception and self-interest, the very instruments which you, in 
 pure honesty and honour of purpose, and with a laudable desire to do 
 your utmost for your client, know the temper and worth of so well, 
 from constantly employing them yourselves. I really believe that to 
 this circumstance may be attributed the vulgar but very general notion 
 of your being, as a body, suspicious, distrustful, and over-cautious. 
 Conscious as I am, Sir, of the disadvantage of making such a declara- 
 tion to you, under such circumstances, I have come here, because I wish 
 you distinctly to understand, as my friend Mr. Perker has said, that I 
 am innocent of the falsehood laid to my charge ; and although I am very 
 well aware of the inestimable value of your assistance, Sir, I must 
 beg to add, that unless you sincerely believe this, I would rather be 
 deprived of the aid of your talents than have the advantage of them." 
 
 Long before the close of this address, which we are bound to say was 
 of a very prosy character for Mr. Pickwick, the Serjeant had relapsed 
 into a state of abstraction. After some minutes, however, during which 
 he had reassumed his pen, he appeared to be again aware of the pre- 
 sence of his clients ; and, raising his head from the paper, said, rather 
 snappishly 
 
 " Who's with me in this case ? " 
 
 " Mr. Phunky, Serjeant Snubbin," replied the attorney. 
 " Pbunky Phunky," said the Serjeant; "I never heard the name 
 before. He must be a very young man." 
 
 " Yes, he is a very young man," replied the attorney. ." He was 
 only called the other day. Let me see oh, he hasn't been at the Bar 
 eight years yet." 
 
 " Ah, I thought not," said the Serjeant, in that sort of pitying tone 
 in which ordinary folks would speak of a very helpless little child. "Mr. 
 Mallard, send round to Mr. Mr. " 
 
 " Phunky's Holborn Court, Gray's Inn," interposed Perker 
 (Holborn Court, by the bye, is South Square now) " Mr. Phunky; 
 and say I should be glad if he'd step here, a moment." 
 
 Mr. Mallard departed to execute his commission ; and Serjeant 
 Snubbin relapsed into abstraction until Mr. Phunky himself was 
 introduced. 
 
 Although an infant barrister, he was a full-grown man. He had a 
 very nervous manner,' and a painful hesitation in his speech ; it did not 
 appear to be a natural defect, but seemed rather the result of timidity, 
 arising from the consciousness of being " kept down " by want of means, 
 or interest, or connexion, or impudenre, as the case might be. He was 
 overawed by the Serjeant, and profoundly courteous to the attorney. 
 
 " I have not had the pleasure of seeing you before, Mr. Phunky, ' 
 said Serjeant Snubbin, with haughty condescension.

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 327 
 
 Mr. Phunky bowed. He had had the pleasure of seeing the Serjeant, 
 and of envying- him too, with all a poor man's envy, for eight years and a 
 quarter. 
 
 " You are with me in this case, I understand?" said the Serjeant. 
 
 If Mr. Phunky had been a rich man, he would have instantly sent 
 for his clerk to remind him ; if he had been a wise one, he would have 
 applied his fore-finger to his forehead, and endeavoured to recollect whe- 
 ther in the multiplicity of his engagements he had undertaken this one, 
 or not : but as he was neither rich nor wise (in this sense at all events) 
 he turned red, and bowed. 
 
 " Have you read the papers, Mr. Phunky ?" inquired the Serjeant. 
 
 Here again Mr. Phunky should have professed to have forgotten all 
 about the merits of the case ; but as he had read such papers as had been 
 laid before him, in the course of the action, and had thought of nothing 
 else, waking or sleeping, throughout the two months during which he 
 had been retained as Mr. Serjeant Snubbin's junior, he turned a deeper 
 red, and bowed again. 
 
 " This is Mr. Pickwick," said the Serjeant, waving his pen in the 
 direction in which that gentleman was standing. 
 
 'f Mr. Phunky bowed to Mr. Pickwick with the reverence which a first 
 client must ever awaken ; and again inclined his head towards his leader. 
 
 " Perhaps you will take Mr. Pickwick away," said the Serjeant, 
 "and and and hear anything Mr. Pickwick may wish to communi- 
 cate. We shall have a consultation, of course." With this hint that he 
 had been interrupted quite long enough, Mr. Sergeant Snubbin, who had 
 been gradually growing more and more abstracted, applied his glass to 
 his eyes for an instant, bowed slightly round, and was once more deeply 
 immersed in the case before him, which arose out of an interminable law- 
 suit, originating in the act of an individual, deceased a century or so 
 ago, who had stopped up a pathway leading from some place which 
 nobody ever came from, to some other place which nobody ever went to. 
 
 Mr. Phunky would not hear of passing through any door until Mr. 
 Pickwick and his solicitor had passed through before him, so it was 
 some time before they got into the Square ; and when they did reach it, 
 they walked up and down, and held a long conference, the result of 
 which, was, that it was a very difficult matter to say how the verdict 
 would go ; that nobody could presume to calculate on the issue of an 
 action; that it was very lucky they had prevented the other party from 
 getting Serjeant Snubbin ; and other topics of doubt and consolation, 
 common in such a position of affairs. 
 
 Mr. Weller was then roused by his master from a sweet sleep of an 
 hour's duration ; and, bidding adieu to Lowten, they returned to the City.
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 DESCRIBES, FAR MORE FULLY THAN THE COURT NEWSMAN EVER 
 DID, A BACHELOR'S PARTY, GIVEN BY MR. BOB SAWYER AT HIS 
 LODGINGS IN THE BOROUGH. . 
 
 THERE is a repose about Lant Street, in the Borough, which 
 sheds a gentle melancholy upon the soul. There are always a good 
 many houses to let in the street: it is a bye-street too, and its dnlness 
 is soothing. A house in Lant Street would not come within the deno- 
 mination of a first-rate residence, in the strict acceptation of the term ; 
 but it is a most desirable spot nevertheless. If a man wished to abstract 
 himself from the world; to remove himself from within the reach of 
 temptation ; to place himself beyond the possibility of any inducement 
 to look out of the window, we should recommend him by all means to 
 go to Lant Street. 
 
 In this happy retreat are colonised a few clear-starchers, a sprinkling 
 of journeymen bookbinders, one or two prison agents for the Insolvent 
 Court, several small housekeepers who are employed in the Docks, a 
 handful of mantua-makers, and a seasoning of jobbing tailors. The 
 majority of the inhabitants either direct their energies to the letting of 
 furnished apartments, or devote themselves to the healthful and invigo- 
 rating pursuit of mangling. The chief features in the still life of the 
 street, are green shutters, lodging-bills, brass door-plates, and bell- 
 handles; the principal specimens of animated nature, the pot-boy, the 
 muffin youth, and the baked-potato man. The population is migratory, 
 usually disappearing on the verge of quarter-day, and generally by night. 
 His Majesty's revenues are seldom collected in this happy valley, the 
 rents are dubious, and the water communication is very frequently cut 
 off. 
 
 . Mr. Bob Sawyer embellished one side of the fire, in his first-floor front, 
 early on the evening for which he had invited Mr. Pickwick ; and Mr. 
 Ben Allen the other. The preparations for the reception of visiters 
 appeared to be completed. The umbrellas in the passage had been 
 heaped into the little corner outside the back-parlour door ; the bonnet 
 and shawl of the landlady's servant had been removed from the bannis- 
 ters ; there were not more than two pair of pattens on the street-door 
 mat ; and a kitchen candle, with a very long snuff, burnt cheerfully on 
 the ledge of the staircase window. Mr. Bob Sawyer had himself pur- 
 chased the spirits at a wine vaults in High Street, and had returned 
 home preceding the bearer thereof, to preclude the possibility of their 
 delivery at the wrong house. The punch was ready-made in a red pan 
 in the bed-room ; a little table, covered with a green baize cloth, had been 
 borrowed from the parlour, to play at cards on ; and the glasses of the 
 establishment, together with those which had been borrowed for the
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 329 
 
 occasion from the public-house, were all drawn up in a tray, which was 
 deposited on the landing outside the door. 
 
 Notwithstanding the highly satisfactory nature of all these arrange- 
 ments, there was a cloud on the countenance of Mr. Bob Sawyer, as he 
 sat by the fire-side. There was a sympathising expression, too, in the 
 features of Mr. Ben Allen, as he gazed intently on the coals; and a 
 tone of melancholy in his voice, as he said, after a long silence 
 
 "Well, it is unlucky that she should have taken it in her head to 
 turn sour, just on this occasion. She might at least have waited till 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " That's her malevolence ; that's her malevolence," returned Mr. 
 Bob Sawyer vehemently. " She says that if I can afford to give a party 
 I ought to be able to afford to pay her confounded ' little bill'." 
 
 " How long has it been running?" inquired Mr. Ben Allen. A bill, 
 by the bye, is the most extraordinary locomotive engine that the genius 
 of man ever produced. It would keep on running during the longest 
 life-time, without ever once stopping of its own accord. 
 
 " Only a quarter, and a month or so," replied Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 Ben Allen coughed hopelessly, and directed a searching look between 
 the two top bars of the stove. 
 
 " It'll be a deuced unpleasant thing if she takes it into her head to let 
 out, when those fellows are here, won't it ? " said Mr. Ben Allen at 
 length. 
 
 " Horrible," replied Bob Sawyer, " horrible." 
 
 A low tap was heard at the room door. Mr. Bob Sawyer looked 
 expressively at his friend, and bade the tapper come in ; whereupon a 
 dirty slipshod girl in black cotton stockings, who might have passed for 
 the neglected daughter of a superannuated dustman in very reduced 
 circumstances, thrust in her head, and said, 
 
 " Please, Mister Sawyer, Missis Raddle wants to speak to you." 
 
 BeforeMr. Bob Sawyer could return any answer, the girl suddenly 
 disappeared with a jerk, as if somebody had given her a violent pull 
 behind ; this mysterious exit was no sooner accomplished, than there 
 was another tap at the door a smart pointed tap, which seemed to say, 
 " Here I am, and in I'm coming." 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer glanced at his friend with a look of abject appre- 
 hension, and once more cried " Come in." 
 
 The permission was not at all necessary, for, before Mr. Bob Sawyer 
 had uttered the words, a little fierce woman bounced into the room, all 
 in a tremble with passion, and pale with rage. 
 
 " Now Mr. Sawyer," said the little fierce woman, trying to appear very 
 calm, "if you'll have the kindness to settle that little bill of mine I'll 
 thank you, because I've got my rent to pay this afternoon., and my land- 
 lord's a waiting below now." Here the little woman rubbed her hands 
 and looked steadily over Mr. Bob Sawyer's head, at the wall behind him. 
 
 " I am very sorry to put you to any inconvenience, Mrs. Raddle," 
 said Bob Sawyer deferentially, " but " 
 
 " Oh, it isn't any inconvenience," replied the little woman, with a 
 shrill titter. " I didn't want it particular before to-day ; leastways, as
 
 330 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 it has to go to my landlord directly, it was as well for you to keep it as 
 me. You promised me this afternoon, Mr. Sawyer, and every gentleman 
 as has ever lived here has kept his word, Sir, as of course anybody as 
 calls himself a gentleman, does." " And Mrs. Raddle tossed her head, 
 bit her lips, rubbed her hands harder, and looked at the wall more 
 steadily than ever. It was plain to see, as Mr. Bob Sawyer remarked 
 in a style of eastern allegory on a subsequent occasion, that she was 
 "getting the steam up." 
 
 " I am very sorry, Mrs. Raddle," said Bob Sawyer with all imaginable 
 humility, " but the fact is, that I have been disappointed in the City 
 to-day." Extraordinary place that city. We know a most astonishing- 
 number of men who always are getting disappointed there. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Sawyer," said Mrs. Raddle, planting herself firmly on a 
 purple cauliflower in the Kidderminster carpet, " and what's that to me, 
 Sir?" 
 
 " I I have no doubt, Mrs. Raddle/' said Bob Sawyer, blinking this 
 last question, " that before the middle of next week we shall be able to 
 set ourselves quite square, and go on on a better system, afterwards." 
 
 This was all Mrs. Raddle wanted. She had bustled up to the 
 apartment of the unlucky Bob Sawyer so bent upon going into a pas- 
 sion, that in all probability payment would have rather disappointed her 
 than otherwise. She was in excellent order for a little relaxation of 
 the kind, having just exchanged a few introductory compliments with 
 Mr. R. in the front kitchen. 
 
 " Do you suppose, Mr. Sawyer," said Mrs. Raddle, elevating her 
 voice for ths information of the neighbours, " do you suppose that I'm 
 a-going day after day to let a fellar occupy my lodgings as never thinks 
 of paying his rent, nor even the very money laid out for the fresh butter 
 and lump sugar that's bought for his breakfast, and the very milk that's 
 took in. at the street door? Do you suppose a hard-working and 
 industrious woman as has lived in this street for twenty years (ten 
 years over the way, and nine years and three quarters in this very house) 
 has nothing else to do, but to work herself to death after a parcel of lazy 
 idle fellars, that are always smoking and drinking, and lounging, when 
 they ought to be glad to turn their hands to anything that would help 
 'em to pay their bills? Do you " 
 
 " My good soul,'' interposed Mr. Benjamin Allen, soothingly. 
 
 " Have the goodness to keep your observashuns to yourself Sir, I 
 beg," said Mrs. Raddle, suddenly arresting the rapid torrent of her 
 speech, and addressing the third party with impressive slowness and so- 
 lemnity. " I am not aweer Sir, that, you have any right to address your 
 conversation to me. I don't think I let these apartments to you, Sir." 
 
 ' No, you certainly did not," said Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 Very good, Sir," responded Mrs. Raddle, with lofty politeness. 
 " Then p'raps, Sir, you'll con fine yourself to breaking the arms and legs 
 of the poor people in the hospitals, and keep yourself to yourself Sir, 
 or there may be some persons here as will make you, Sir." 
 
 " But you are such an unreasonable woman," remonstrated Mr. 
 Benjamin Allen.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 331 
 
 " I beg your parcling, young man," said Mrs. Raddle, in a cold per- 
 spiration of anger. " But will you have the goodness just to call me 
 that, again, Sir?" 
 
 " I didn't make use of the word in any invidious manner, ma'am," 
 replied Mr. Benjamin Allen, growing somewhat uneasy on his own 
 account. 
 
 " I beg your parding, young man/' demanded Mrs. Raddle in a louder 
 and more imperative tone. " But who do you call a woman? Did 
 you make that remark to me, Sir ? " 
 
 " Why, bless my heart !" said Mr. Benjamin Allen 
 
 " Did you apply that name to me, I ask of you, Sir ?" interrupted 
 Mrs. Raddle with intense fierceness, throwing the door wide open. 
 
 " Why, of course I did," replied Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 " Yes, of course you did," said Mrs. Raddle, backing gradually to 
 the door, and raising her voice to its loudest pitch, for the special behoof 
 of Mr. Raddle in the kitchen. " Yes, of course you did, and everybody 
 knows that they may safely insult me in my own ouse while my hus- 
 band sits sleeping down stairs, and taking no more notice than if I was 
 a dog in the streets. He ought to be ashamed of himself (here Mrs. 
 Raddle sobbed) to allow his wife to be treated in this way by a parcel 
 of young cutters and carvers of live people's bodies, that disgraces the 
 lodgings (another sob), and leaving her exposed to all manner of abuse, 
 a base faint-hearted, timorous wretch, that's afraid to come up stairs, and 
 face the ruflfinly creatures that's afraid that's afraid to come." Mrs. 
 Raddle paused to listen whether the repetition of the taunt had roused 
 her better half; and, finding that it had not been successful, proceeded to 
 descend the stairs with sobs innumerable, when there came a loud dou- 
 ble knock at the street door : whereupon she burst into an hysterical 
 fit of weeping, accompanied with dismal moans, which was prolonged 
 until the knock had been repeated six times, when, in an uncontrollable 
 burst of mental agony, she threw down all the umbrellas, and disap- 
 peared into the back parlour, closing the door after herwith an awful crash. 
 
 " Does Mr. Sawyer live here? " said Mr. Pickwick, when the door 
 was opened. 
 
 " Yes," said the girl, " first floor. It's the door straight afore you, 
 when you gets to the top of the stairs." Having given this instruc- 
 tion, the handmaid, who had been brought up among the aboriginal in- 
 habitants of Southwark, disappeared with the candle in her hand down 
 the kitchen stairs, perfectly satisfied that she had done every thing that 
 could possibly be required of her under the circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass, who entered last, secured the street door, after several 
 ineffectual efforts, by putting up the chain ; and the friends stumbled up 
 stairs, where they were received by Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had been 
 afraid to go down lest he should be waylaid by Mrs. Raddle. 
 
 " How are you ?" said the discomfited student " Glad to see you, 
 take care of the glasses." This caution was addressed to Mr. Pick- 
 wick, who had put his hat in the tray. 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Pickwick," I beg your pardon." 
 
 " Don't mention it, don't mention it," said Bob Sawyer, " 1'mrather
 
 332 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 confined for room here, but you must put up with all that, when you 
 come to see a young bachelor. Walk in. You've seen this gentleman 
 before, I think?" Mr. Pickwick shook hands with Mr. Benjamin Allen, 
 and his friends followed his example. They had scarcely taken their 
 seats when there was another double knock. 
 
 " I hope that's Jack Hopkins ! " said Mr. Bob Sawyer. " Hush, 
 Yes, it is. Come up, Jack ; come up." 
 
 A heavy footstep was heard upon the stairs, and Jack Hopkins pre- 
 sented himself. He wore a black velvet waistcoat, with thunder-and- 
 lightning buttons ; and a blue striped shirt, with a white false collar. 
 
 " You're late, Jack ?'* said Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 " Been detained at Bartholomew's," replied Hopkins. 
 
 " Anything new ? " 
 
 " No, nothing particular. Rather a good accident brought into the 
 casualty ward." 
 
 " What was that, Sir?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 '< Only a man fallen out of a four piur of stairs' window ; but it's a 
 very fair case very fair case indeed." 
 
 " Do you mean that the patient is in a fair way to recover ? " in- 
 quired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No," replied Hopkins, carelessly. " No, I should rather say he 
 wouldn't. There must be a splendid operation though, to-morrow 
 magnificent sight if Slasher does it." 
 
 " You consider Mr. Slasher a good operator?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Best alive," replied Hopkins. " Took a boy's leg out of the 
 socket last week boy ate five apples and a gingerbread cake exactly 
 two minutes after it was all over, boy said he wouldn't lie there to be 
 made game of; and he'd tell his mother if they didn't begin." 
 
 " Dear me !" said Mr. Pickwick, astonished. 
 
 "Pooh! that's nothing, that ain't," said Jack Hopkins. " Is it, 
 Bob?" 
 
 { Nothing at all," replied Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " By the bye, Bob," said Hopkins, with a scarcely perceptible glance 
 at Mr. Pickwick's attentive face, " we had a curious accident last 
 night. A child was brought in, who had swallowed a necklace." 
 
 Swallowed what, Sir?" interrupted Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " A necklace," replied Jack Hopkins. " Not all at once, you know, 
 that would be too much you couldn't swallow that, if the child did eh, 
 Mr. Pickwick, ha ! ha!" Mr. Hopkins appeared highly gratified with 
 his own pleasantry ; and continued " No, the way was this ; child's 
 parents were poor people who lived in a court. Child's eldest sister 
 bought a necklace, common necklace, made of large black wooden 
 beads. Child, being fond of toys, cribbed the necklace, hid it, played 
 with it, cut the string, and swallowed a bead. Child thought it capital 
 fun, went back next day, and swallowed another bead." 
 
 " Bless my heart," said Mr. Pickwick, "what a dreadful thingl I 
 beg your pardon, Sir. Go on." 
 
 " Next day, child swallowed two beads ; the day after that, he treated 
 himself to three, and so on, till in a week's time he had got through
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. OOO 
 
 the necklace, five-and-twenty beads in all. The sister, who was an 
 industrious girl, and seldom treated herself to a bit of finery, cried her 
 eyes out, at the loss of the necklace ; looked high and low for it ; but 
 I needn't say didn't find it. A few days afterwards, the family were at 
 dinner baked shoulder of mutton, and potatoes under it the child, 
 who wasn't hungry, was playing about the room, when suddenly there 
 was heard a devil of a noise, like a small hail storm. ' Don't do that, 
 my boy,' said the father. ' I ain't a doin' nothing,' said the child. 
 1 Well, don't do it again,' said the father. There was a short silence, 
 and then the noise began again, worse than ever. ' If you don't mind 
 what I say, my boy,' said the father, ' you'll find yourself in bed, in 
 something less than a pig's whisper.' He gave the child a shake to 
 make him obedient, and such a rattling ensued as nobody ever heard 
 before. ' Why, damme, it's in the child ! ' said the father, ' he's got the 
 croup in the wrong place !' ' No I haven't, father,' said the child, begin- 
 ning to cry, ' it's the necklace ; I swallowed it, father.' The father 
 caught the child up, and ran with him to the hospital : the beads in 'the 
 boy's stomach rattling all the way with the jolting ; and the people 
 looking np in the air, and down in the cellars to see where the unusual 
 sound came from. He's in the hospital now," said Jack Hopkins, 
 " and he makes such a devil of a noise when he walks about, that 
 they're obliged to muffle him in a watchman's coat, for fear he should 
 wake the patients !" 
 
 " That's the most extraordinary case I ever heard of," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick, with an emphatic blow on the table. 
 
 " Oh, that's nothing," said Jack Hopkins ; " is it, Bob ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 fc Very singular things occur in our profession, I can assure you, 
 Sir," said Hopkins. 
 
 " So I should be disposed to imagine," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Another knock at the door, announced a large-headed young man in 
 a black wig, who brought with him a scorbutic youth in a long stock. 
 The next comer was a gentleman in a shirt emblazoned with pink 
 anchors, who was closely followed by a pale youth with a plated watch- 
 guard. The arrival of a prim personage in clean linen and cloth boots 
 rendered the party complete. The little table with the green baize 
 cover was wheeled out ; the first instalment of punch was brought in, in 
 a white jug; and the succeeding three hours were devoted to vingt-un 
 at sixpence a dozen, which was only once interrupted by a slight dis- 
 pute between the scorbutic youth and the gentleman with the pink 
 anchors ; in the course of which, the scorbutic youth intimated a burn- 
 ing desire to pull the nose of the gentleman with the emblems of hope, 
 in reply to which, that individual expressed his decided unwillingness to 
 accept of any " sauce " on gratuitous terms, either from the irascible 
 young gentleman with the scorbutic countenance, or any other person 
 who was ornamented with a head. 
 
 When the last " natural" had been declared, and the profit and loss 
 account of fish and sixpences adjusted, to the satisfaction of all parties, 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer rang for supper, and the visiters squeezed themselves 
 into corners while it was getting ready.
 
 334 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 It was not so easily got ready as some people may imagine. First of 
 all, it was necessary to awaken the girl, who had fallen asleep with her 
 face on the kitchen table ; this took a little time, and, even when she did 
 answer the bell, another quarter of an hour was consumed in fruitless 
 endeavours to impart to her a faint and distant glimmering of reason. 
 The man to whom the order for the oysters had been sent, had not been 
 told to open them ; it is a very difficult thing to open an oyster with a 
 limp knife or a two-pronged fork, and very little was done in this way. 
 Very little of the beef was done either ; and the ham (which was also 
 from the German sausage-shop round the corner) was in a similar predi- 
 cament. However, there was plenty of porter in a tin can ; and the 
 cheese went a great way, for it was very strong. So upon the whole, 
 perhaps, the supper was quite as good as such matters usually are. 
 
 After supper another jug of punch was put upon the table, together 
 with a paper of cigars, and a couple of bottles of spirits. Then there 
 was an awful pause; and this awful pause was occasioned by a very 
 common occurrence in this sort of places, but a very embarrassing one 
 notwithstanding. 
 
 The fact is, that the girl was washing the glasses. The establish, 
 ment boasted four ; we do not record the circumstance as at all deroga- 
 tory to Mrs. Raddle, for there never was a lodging-house yet, that was 
 not short of glasses. The landlady's glasses were little thin blown 
 glass tumblers, and those which had been borrowed from the public 
 house were great, dropsical, bloated articles, each supported on a huge 
 gouty leg. This would have been in itself sufficient to have possessed 
 the company with the real state of affairs ; but the young woman of all 
 work had prevented the possibility of any misconception arising in the 
 mind of any gentleman upon the subject, by forcibly dragging every 
 man's glass away, long before he had finished his beer, and audibly 
 stating, despite the winks and interruptions of Mr. Bob Sawyer, that it 
 was to be conveyed down stairs, and washed forthwith. 
 
 It is a very ill wind that blows nobody any good. The prim man in 
 the cloth boots, who had been unsuccessfully attempting to make a joke 
 during the whole time the round game lasted, saw his opportunity, and 
 availed himself of it. The instant the glasses disappeared he com- 
 menced a long story about a great public character, whose name he had 
 forgotten, making a particularly happy reply to another eminent and 
 illustrious individual whom he had never been able to identify. He 
 enlarged at some length and with great minuteness upon divers colla- 
 teral circumstances, distinctly connected with the anecdote in hand, but 
 for the life of him he couldn't recollect at that precise moment what the 
 anecdote was, although he had been in the habit of telling the story with 
 great, applause for the last ten years. 
 
 " Dear me," said the prim man in the cloth boots, "it is a very 
 extraordinary circumstance." 
 
 " I am sorry you have forgotten it," said Mr. Bob Sawyer, glancing 
 eagerly at the door, as he thought he heard the noise of glasses jingling 
 " very sorry." 
 
 " So am I," responded the prim man, " because I know it would have
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 335 
 
 afforded so much amusement. Never mind ; I dare say I shall manage 
 to recollect it, in the course of half an hour or so." 
 
 The prim man arrived at this point, just as the glasses came back, 
 when Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had been absorbed in attention during the 
 whole time, said he should very much like to hear the end of it, for, so 
 far as it went, it was, without exception, the very best story he had ever 
 heard. 
 
 The sight of the tumblers restored Bob Sawyer to a degree of equa- 
 nimity which he had not possessed since his interview with his landlady. 
 His face brightened up, and he began to feel quite convivial. 
 
 " Now, Betsy," said Mr. Bob Sawyer, with great suavity, and dis- 
 persing, at the same time, the tumultuous little mob of glasses that the 
 girl had collected in the centre of the table; "now, Betsy, the warm 
 water : be brisk, there's a good girl." 
 
 " You can't have no warm water," replied Betsy. 
 
 " No warm water ! " exclaimed Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " No," said the girl, with a shake of the head which expressed a 
 more decided negative than the most copious language could have con- 
 veyed. " Missis Raddle said you warn't to have none.'' 
 
 The surprise depicted on the countenances of his guests imparted 
 new courage to the host. 
 
 "Bring up the warm water instantly instantly!" said Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, with desperate sternness. 
 
 " No ; I can't," replied the girl ; " Missis Raddle raked out the 
 kitchen fire afore she went to bed, and locked up the kittle." 
 
 " Oh, never mind ; never mind. Pray don't disturb yourself about 
 such a trifle," said Mr. Pickwick, observing the conflict of Bob 
 Sawyer's passions, as depicted in his countenance, " cold water will do 
 very well." 
 
 "Oh, admirably," said Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 " My landlady is subject to some slight attacks of mental derange- 
 ment," remarked Bob Sawyer with a ghastly smile ; "I fear I must give 
 her warning." 
 
 " No, don't," said Ben Allen. 
 
 " 1 fear I must," said Bob with heroic firmness. " I'll pay her what 
 I owe her, and give her warning to-morrow morning." Poor fellow ! 
 how devoutly he wished he could ! 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer's heart-sickening attempts to rally under this last 
 blow communicated a dispiriting influence to the company, the greater 
 part of whom, with the view of raising their spirits, attached themselves 
 with extra cordiality to the cold brandy and water, the first perceptible 
 effects of which were displayed in a renewal of hostilities between the 
 scorbutic youth and the gentleman in the sanguine shirt. The belli- 
 gerents vented th^ir feelings of mutual contempt, for some time, in a 
 variety of frownings and snortings, until at last the scorbutic youth felt 
 it necessary to come to a more explicit understanding on the matter, 
 when the following clear understanding took place. 
 
 " Sawyer," said the scorbutic youth, in a loud voice. 
 
 " Weil, Noddy," replied Mr. Bob Sawyer.
 
 33b POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 v 
 
 " I should be very sorry, Sawyer," said Mr. Noddy, " to create any 
 unpleasantness at any friend's table, and much less at yours, Sawyer, 
 very ; but I must take this opportunity of informing- Mr. Gunter that 
 he is no gentleman." 
 
 " And / should be very sorry, Sawyer, to create any disturbance in 
 the street in which you reside," said Mr. Gunter, " but I'm afraid I 
 shall be under the necessity of alarming the neighbours by throwing the 
 person who has just spoken, out o' window." 
 
 " What do you mean by that, Sir ?'' inquired Mr. Noddy. 
 
 " What I say, Sir," replied Mr. Gunter. 
 ; I should like to see you do it, Sir," said Mr. Noddy. 
 You shaNfeel me do it in half a minute, Sir," replied Mr. Gunter. 
 I request that you'll favour me with your card, sir," said Mr. Noddy. 
 I'll do nothing of the kind. Sir," replied Mr. Gunter. 
 Why not, Sir?" inquired Mr. Noddy. 
 
 ' Because you'll stick it up over your chimney-piece, and delude your 
 visiters into the false belief that a gentleman has been to see you, Sir," 
 replied Mr. Gunter. 
 
 " Sir, a friend of mine shall wait on you in the morning," said Mr. 
 Noddy. 
 
 "Sir, I'm very much obliged to you for the caution, and I'll leave 
 particular directions with the servant to lock up the spoons," replied 
 Mr. Gunter. 
 
 At this point the remainder of the guests interposed, and remon- 
 strated with both parties on the impropriety of their conduct, on 
 which Mr. Noddy begged to state that his father was quite as respectable 
 as Mr. Gunter's father ; to which Mr. Gunter replied that his father 
 was to the full as respectable as Mr. Noddy's father, and that his father's 
 son was as good a man as Mr. Noddy, any day in the week. As this 
 announcement seemed the prelude to a recommencement of the dispute, 
 there was another interference on the part of the company ; and a vast 
 quantity of talking and clamouring ensued, in the course of which Mr. 
 Noddy gradually allowed bis feelings to overpower him, and professed 
 that he had ever entertained a devoted personal attachment towards Mr. 
 Gunter. To this Mr. Gunter replied that, upon the whole, he rather 
 preferred Mr. Noddy to his own brother ; on hearing which admission 
 Mr. Noddy magnanimously rose from his seat, and proffered his hand 
 to Mr. Gunter. Mr. Gunter grasped it with affecting fervour ; and 
 everybody said that the whole dispute had been conducted in a manner 
 which was highly honourable to both parties concerned. 
 
 "Now," said Jack Hopkins, "just to set us going again, Bob, I 
 don't mind singing a song." And Hopkins, incited thereto, by tumul- 
 tuous applause, plunged himself at once into ' The King, God bless him,' 
 which he sang as loud as he could, to a novel air, compounded of the 
 * Bay of Biscay,' and ' A Frog he would.' The chorus was the essence 
 of the song, and, as each gentleman sang it to the tune he knew best, 
 the effect was very striking indeed. 
 
 It was at the end of the chorus to the first verse, that Mr. Pickwick 
 held up his hand in a listening attitude, and said, as soon as silence was 
 restored
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 337 
 
 " Hush ! I beg your pardon. I thought I heard somebody calling 
 from up stairs." 
 
 A profound silence immediately ensued ; and Mr. Bob Sawyer was 
 observed to turn pale. 
 
 " I think I hear it now," said Mr. Pickwick. " Have the goodness 
 to open the door." 
 
 The door was no sooner opened than all doubt on the subject was 
 removed. 
 
 " Mr. Sawyer Mr. Sawyer" screamed a voice from the two-pair 
 landing. 
 
 " It's my landlady," said Bob Sawyer, looking round him with great 
 dismay. " Yes, Mrs. Raddle." 
 
 " What do you mean by this, Mr. Sawyer?" replied the voice, with 
 great shrillness and rapidity of utterance. " Ain't it enough to be 
 swindled out of one's rent, and money lent out of pocket besides, and 
 abused and insulted by your friends that dares to call themselves men, 
 without having the house turned out of window, and noise enough 
 made to bring the fire-engines here, at two o'clock in the morning ? 
 Turn them wretches away." 
 
 " You ought to be ashamed of yourselves," said the voice of Mr. 
 Raddle, which appeared to proceed from beneath some distant bed- 
 clothes. 
 
 lt Ashamed, of themselves !" said Mrs. Raddle, " Why don't you go 
 down and knock 'em every one down stairs ? you would if you was a 
 man." 
 
 " I should if I was a dozen men, my dear/' replied Mr. Raddle, paci- 
 fically, " but they've rather the advantage of me in numbers, my dear." 
 
 " Ugh, you coward I" replied Mrs. Raddle, with supreme contempt. 
 " Do you mean to turn them wretches out, or not, Mr. Sawyer ?" 
 
 " They're going, Mrs. Raddle, they're going," said the miserable Bob. 
 " I am afraid you'd better go," said Mr. Bob Sawyer to his friends. 
 " I thought you were making too much noise." 
 
 "It's a very unfortunate thing," said the prim roan. "Just as we 
 were getting so comfortable too !" The fact was, that the prim man 
 was just beginning to have a dawning recollection of the story he had 
 forgotten. 
 
 " It's hardly to be borne," said the prim man, looking round. 
 " Hardly to be borne, is it ?" 
 
 " Not to be endured," replied Jack Hopkins ; " let's have the other 
 verse, Bob ; come, here goes." 
 
 " No, no, Jack, don't," interposed Bob Sawyer; " it's a capital song, 
 but I am afraid we had better not have the other verse. They are very 
 violent people, the people of the house." 
 
 " Shall 1 step up stairs, and pitch into the landlord ?" inquired Hop- 
 kins, " or keep on ringing the bell, or go and groan on the staircase ? 
 You may command me, Bob." 
 
 " I am very much indebted to you for your friendship and good 
 nature, Hopkins," said the wretched Mr. Bob Sawyer, " but I think 
 the best plan to avoid any further dispute is for us to break up at 
 once."
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OP 
 
 "Now, Mr. Sawyer," screamed the shrill voice of Mrs. Raddle, "are 
 them brutes going ?" 
 
 " They're only looking for their hats, Mrs. Raddle," said Bob ; " they 
 are going directly." 
 
 " Going!" said Mrs. Raddle, thrusting her night-cap over the ban- 
 nisters just as Mr. Pickwick, followed by Mr. Tupman, emerged from 
 the sitting-room. " Going ! What did they ever come for?" 
 
 " My dear ma'am," remonstrated Mr. Pickwick, looking up. 
 
 " Get along with you, you old wretch !" replied Mrs. Raddle, hastily 
 withdrawing the night-cap. /' Old enough to be his grandfather, you 
 villin ! You're worse than any of 'em." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick found it in vain to. protest his innocence, so hurried 
 down stairs into the street, whither he was closely followed by Mr. Tup- 
 man, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass. Mr. Ben Allen, who was dis- 
 mally depressed with spirits and agitation, accompanied them as far as 
 London Bridge, and in the course of the walk confided to Mr. Winkle, 
 as an especially sensible person to intrust the secret to, that he was 
 resolved to cut the throat of any gentleman except Mr. Bob Sawyer who 
 should aspire to the affections of his sister Arabella. Having expressed 
 his determination to perform this painful duty of a brother with proper 
 firmness, he burst into tears, knocked his hat over his eyes, and, making 
 the best of his way back, knocked double knocks at the doorof the 
 Borough Market, and took short naps on the steps alternately, till day- 
 break, under the firm impression that he lived there, and had forgotten 
 the key. 
 
 The visiters having all departed, in compliance with the rather press- 
 ing request of Mrs. Raddle, the luckless Mr. Bob Sawyer was left 
 alone, to meditate on the probable events of the morrow, and the plea- 
 sures of the evening.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 MR. VVELLER THE ELDER DELIVERS SOME CRITICAL SENTIMENTS 
 RESPECTING LITERARY COMPOSITION; AND, ASSISTED BY HIS SON 
 SAMUEL, PAYS A SMALL INSTALMENT OF RETALIATION TO THE 
 ACCOUNT OF THE REVEREND GENTLEMAN WITH THE RED NOSE. 
 
 THE morning of the thirteenth of February, which the readers of this 
 authentic narrative know, as well as we do, to have been the day im- 
 mediately preceding- that which was appointed for the trial of Mrs. 
 Bardell's action, was a busy time for Mr. Samuel Weller, who was 
 perpetually engaged in travelling from the George and Vulture to Mr. 
 Perker's chambers and back again, from and between the hours of nine 
 o'clock in the morning and two in the afternoon, both inclusive. Not 
 that there was anything whatever to be done, for the consultation had 
 taken place, and the course of proceeding to be adopted, had been 
 finally determined on, but Mr. Pickwick being in a most extreme state 
 of excitement, persevered in constantly sending small notes to his 
 attorney, merely containing the enquiry, " Dear Perker Is all going 
 on well ? " to which Mr. Perker invariably forwarded the reply, " Dear 
 Pickwick As well as possible ;" the fact being as we have already hinted 
 that there was nothing whatever to go on, either well or ill, until the 
 sitting of the court on the following morning. 
 
 But people who go voluntarily to law, or are taken forcibly there, 
 for the first time, may be allowed to labour under some temporary irri- 
 tation and anxiety : and Sam, with a due allowance for the frailties of 
 human nature, obeyed all his master's behests with that imperturbable 
 good humour and unruffable composure, which formed one of his most 
 striking and amiable characteristics. 
 
 Sam had solaced himself with a most agreeable little dinner, and was 
 waiting at the bar for the glass of warm mixture in which Mr. Pick- 
 wick had requested him to drown the fatigues of his morning's walks, 
 when a young boy of about three feet high, or thereabouts, in a hairy 
 cap and fustian overalls, whose garb bespoke a laudable ambition to 
 attain in time the elevation of an hostler, entered the passage of the 
 George and Vulture, and looked first up the stairs, and then along the 
 passage, and then into the bar, as if in search of somebody to 
 whom he bore a commission ; whereupon the barmaid, conceiving it not 
 improbable that the said commission might be directed to the tea or 
 table spoons of the establishment, accosted the boy with 
 
 " Now, young man, what do you want ? " 
 
 "Is there anybody here, named Sam ? " inquired the youth, in a loud 
 voice of treble quality. 
 
 c c
 
 340 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " What's the t'other name ? " said Sam Weller, looking round. 
 
 " How should I know ? " briskly replied the young gentleman below 
 the hairy cap. 
 
 " You're a sharp boy, you are," said Mr. Weller; " only I wouldn't 
 show that wery fine edge too much, if I was you, in case anybody took 
 it off. What do you mean by corain* to a hot-el, and asking arter Sam, 
 vith as much politeness as a vild Indian ? " 
 
 " 'Cos an old gen'lm'n told me to," replied the boy. 
 
 ie What old gen'lm'n ? " inquired Sam, with deep disdain. 
 
 " Him as drives a Ipswich coach, and uses our parlour" rejoined the 
 boy. He told me yesterday mornin' to come to the George in Wultur 
 this arternoon. and ask for Sam." 
 
 "It's my father, my dear" said Mr. Weller, turning with an expla- 
 natory air to the young lady in the bar ; " blessed if I think he hardly 
 knows wot my other name is. Veil, young brockiley sprout, wot 
 then ? " 
 
 " Why then,'' said the boy, " you wos to come to him at six o'clock 
 to our 'ouse 'cos he wants to see you Blue Boar, Leaden'all Markit. 
 Shall I say you're comin' ? " 
 
 " You may wenture on that 'ere statement, Sir," replied Sam. And 
 thus empowered, the young gentleman walked away, awakening all the 
 echoes in George Yard as he did so, with several chaste and extremely 
 correct imitations of a drover's whistle, delivered in a tone of peculiar 
 richness and volume. 
 
 Mr. Weller having obtained leave of absence from Mr. Pickwick, 
 who, in his then state of excitement and worry was by no means 
 displeased at being left alone, set forth long before the appointed hour; 
 and having plenty of time at his disposal, sauntered down as far as the 
 Mansion House, where he paused and contemplated, with a face of 
 great calmness and philosophy, the numerous cads and drivers of short 
 stages who assemble near that famous place of resort, to the great 
 terror and confusion of the old-lady population of these realms. 
 Having loitered here, for half an hour or so, Mr. Weller turned, and 
 began wending his way towards Leadenhall Market, through a variety 
 of bye streets and courts. As he was sauntering away his spare time, 
 and stopped to look at almost every object that met his gaze, it is by 
 no means surprising that Mr. Weller should have paused before a small 
 stationer's and print-seller's window ; but without further explanation it 
 does appear surprising that his eyes should have no sooner rested on 
 certain pictures which were exposed for sale therein, than he gave a 
 sudden start, smote his right leg with great vehemence, and exclaimed 
 with energy, " If it hadn't been for this, I should ha' forgot all about 
 it, till it was too late ! " 
 
 The particular picture on which Sam Weller's eyes were fixed, as he 
 said this, was a highly coloured representation of a couple of human 
 hearts skewered together with an arrow, cooking before a cheerful fire, 
 while a male and female cannibal in modern attire, the gentleman being 
 clad in a blue coat and white trousers, and the lady in a deep red pelisse 
 vith a parasol of the same, were approaching the meal with hungry
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 341 
 
 eyes, up a serpentine gravel path leading- thereunto. A decidedly inde- 
 licate young' gentleman, in a pair of wings and nothing else, was de- 
 picted as superintending the cooking; a representation of the spire of 
 the church in Langham Place, appeared in the distance; and the whole 
 formed a "valentine," of which, as a written inscription in the window 
 testified, there was a large assortment within, which the shopkeeper 
 pledged himself to dispose of to his countrymen generally, at the reduced 
 rate of one and sixpence each. 
 
 " I should ha" forgot it ; I should certainly ha" forgot it ! " said Sam ; 
 and so saying, he at once stepped into the stationer's shop, and request- 
 ed to be served with a sheet of the best gilt-ed<;ed letter-paper, and a 
 hard-nibbed pen which could be warranted not to splutter. These 
 articles having been promptly supplied, he walked on direct towards 
 Leadenhall Market at a good round pace, very different from his recent 
 lingering one. Looking round him, he there beheld a sign-board on 
 which the painter's art had delineated something remotely resembling a 
 cerulean elephant with an aquiline nose in lieu of trunk. Rightly con- 
 jecturing that this was the Blue Boar himself, he stepped into the 
 house, and inquired concerning his purent. 
 
 " He won't be here this three quarters of an hour or more," said 
 the young lady who superintended the domestic arrangements of the 
 Blue Boar. 
 
 " Wery good, my dear," replied Sam. " Let me have nine penn'orth 
 o' brandy and water luke, and the inkstand, will you, miss ? " 
 
 The brandy and water luke and the inkstand having been carried into 
 the little parlour, and the young lady having carefully flattened down 
 the coals to prevent their blazing, and carried away the poker to pre- 
 clude the possibility of the fire being stirred, without the full privity 
 and concurrence of the Blue Boar being first had and obtained, Sam 
 Weller sat himself down in a box near the stove, and pulled out the 
 sheet of gilt-edged letter-paper, and the hard-nibbed 'pen. Then, looking 
 carefully at the pen to see that there were no hairs in it, and dusting 
 down the table, so that there might be no crumbs of bread under the 
 paper, Sam tucked up the cuffs of his coat, squared his elbows, and 
 composed himself to write. 
 
 To ladies and gentlemen who are not in the habit of devoting them- 
 selves practically to the science of penmanship, writing a letter is no 
 very easy task, it being always considered necessary in such cases for 
 the writer to recline his head on his left arm so as to place his eyes as 
 nearly as possible on a level with the paper, and while glancing side- 
 ways at the letters he is constructing, to form with his tongue ima- 
 ginary characters to correspond. These motions, although unquestion- 
 ably of the greatest assistance to original composition, retard in some 
 degree the progress of the writer, and Sam had unconsciously been a 
 full hour and a half writing words in small text, smearing out wrong 
 letters with his little finger, and putting in new ones which required 
 going, over very often to render them visible through the old blots, 
 when he was roused by the opening of the door and the entrance of his 
 parent. 
 
 c c 2
 
 342 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Veil, Sammy/' said the father. 
 
 "Veil, my Prooshan Blue," responded the son, laying down his 
 pen. '"What's the last bulletin about mother-in-law?" 
 
 " Mrs. Veller passed a wery good night, but is uncommon perwerse, 
 and unpleasant this mornin' signed upon oath S. Veller, Esquire, 
 Senior. That's the last vun as was issued, Sammy," replied Mr. 
 Weller, untying his shawl. 
 
 " No better yet ? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " All the symptoms aggerawated," replied Mr. Weller, shaking his 
 head. " But wot's that, you're a doin' of pursuit of knowledge under 
 difficulties eh Sammy?" 
 
 " I've done now," said Sam with slight embarrassment ; " I've been 
 a writin'." 
 
 " So I see," replied Mr. Weller. " Not to any young 'ooman, I 
 hqpe, Sammy." 
 
 "Why it's no use a sayin' it ain't," replied Sam, "It's a walentine." 
 " A what I " exclaimed Mr. Weller, apparently horror-stricken by 
 the word. 
 
 " A walentine," replied Sam. 
 
 "Samivel, Samivel," said Mr. Weller, in reproachful accents, " I didn't 
 think you'd ha' done it. Arter the warnin' you're had o' your father's 
 wicious perpensities, arter all I've said to you upon this here wery sub- 
 ject ; arter actiwally seein' and bein' in the company o' your own mother- 
 in-law, vich I should ha' thought wos a moral lesson as no man could 
 ever ha' forgotten to his dyin' day ! I didn't think you'd ha' done it, 
 Sammy, I didn't think you'd ha' done it." These reflections were too 
 much for the good old man. He raised Sam's tumbler to his lips and 
 drank off its contents. 
 
 " Wot's the matter now ! " said Sam. 
 
 " Nev'r mind, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, " it'll be a wery agonizin' 
 trial to me at my time of life, but I'm pretty tough, that's vun conso- 
 lation, as the wery old turkey remarked ven the farmer said he wos 
 afeerd he should be obliged to kill him, for the London market." 
 " Wot'll be a trial?" inquired Sara. 
 
 " To see you married, Sammy to see you a dilluded wictim, and 
 thinkin' in your innocence that it's all wery capital," replied Mr. Wel- 
 ler. " It's a dreadful trial to a father's feelin's, that 'ere, Sammy." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Sam. " I ain't a goin' to get married, don't you 
 fret yourself about that ; I know you're a judge o' these things. Order 
 in your pipe, and I'll read you the letter there." 
 
 We cannot distinctly say whether it was the prospect of the pipe, or 
 the consolatory reflection that a fatal disposition to get married ran in 
 the family and couldn't be helped, which calmed Mr. W T eller's feelings, 
 and caused his grief to subside. We should be rather disposed to say 
 that the result was attained by combining the two sources of consola- 
 tion, for he repeated the second in a low tone, very frequently ; ringing 
 the bell meanwhile, to order in the first. He then divested himself of 
 his upper coat; and lighting the pipe and placing himself in front of 
 the fire with his back towards it, so that he could feel its full heat, and
 
 THE PICKWICK CMJB. 343 
 
 recline against the mantel-piece at the same time, turned towards Sam, 
 and, with a countenance greatly mollified by the softening influence of 
 tobacco, requested him to " fire away." 
 
 Sam dipped his pen into the ink to be ready for any corrections, 
 and began with a very theatrical air 
 
 < Lovely ''" 
 
 " Stop," said Mr. Weller, ringing the bell. " A double glass o' the 
 inwariable, my dear." 
 
 " Very well, Sir," replied the girl ; who with great quickness appeared, 
 vanished, returned, and disappeared. 
 
 ** They seem to know your ways here," observed Sam. 
 
 u Yes," replied his father, "I've been here before, in my time. Go 
 on, Sammy." 
 
 " ' Lovely creetur,'" repeated Sam. 
 
 " Tain't in poetry, is it ?" interposed the father. 
 
 " No no," replied Sam. 
 
 <f Werry glad to hear it," said Mr. Weller. " Poetry's unnat'ral; no man 
 ever talked in poetry 'cept a beadle on boxin' day, or Warren's blackin' 
 or Rowland's oil, or some o' them low fellows ; never you let yourself 
 down to talk poetry, my boy. Begin again, Sammy." 
 
 Mr. Weller resumed his pipe with critical solemnity, and Sam once 
 more commenced, and read as follows. 
 
 " 'Lovely creetur i feel myself a dammed ' ." 
 
 " That ain't proper," said Mr. Weller, taking his pipe from his 
 mouth. 
 
 " No ; it aint dammed," observed Sam, holding the letter up to the 
 light, " it's ' shamed,' there's a blot there' I feel myself ashamed. ' " 
 
 " Wery good," said Mr. Weller. " Go on." 
 
 " ' Feel myself ashamed, and completely cir ' I forget wot this 
 here word is," said Sam, scratching his head with the pen, in vain 
 attempts to remember. 
 
 " Why don't you look at it, then ?" inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " So I am a lookin' at it," replied Sam, " but there's another blot : 
 here's a ' c,' and a 'i, 1 and a f d.'" 
 
 " Circumwented, p'raps," suggested Mr. Weller. 
 
 " No it ain't that," said Sam, " circumscribed, that's it." 
 
 "That ain't as good a word as circumwented, Sammy," said Mr. 
 Weller gravely. 
 
 " Think not? " said Sam. 
 
 " Nothin' like it," replied his father. 
 
 " But don't you think it means more ? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " Veil p'raps it is a more tenderer word," said Mr. Weller, after a few 
 moments' reflection. " Go on, Sammy." 
 
 " ' Feel myself ashamed and completely circumscribed in a dressin' 
 of you, for you are a nice gal and nothin' but it.' " 
 
 " That's a wery pretty sentiment," said the elder Mr. Weller, remov- 
 ing his pipe to make way for the remark. 
 
 " Yes, I think it is rayther good," observed Sam, highly flattered. 
 
 " Wot I like in that 'ere style of writin'," said the elder Mr-
 
 344 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Weller, " is, that there ain't no callin' names in it, no Wenuses, nor 
 nothin' o' that kind ; wot's the good o' callin' a young 'ooman a Wenus 
 or a angel, Sammy?" 
 
 Ah ! what, indeed?" replied Sam. 
 
 " You might jist as veil call her a griffin^ or a unicorn, or a king's 
 arms at once, which is wery veil known to be a col-lection o' fabulous 
 animals," added Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Just as well," replied Sam. 
 
 " Drive on, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 Sam complied with the request, and proceeded as follows ; his father 
 continuing to smoke, with a mixed expression of wisdom and compla- 
 cency, which was particularly edifying-. 
 
 " ' Afore I see you I thought all women was alike.' " 
 
 <l So they are," observed the elder Mr. Weller, parenthetically. 
 
 " ' But now,' continued Sam, ' now I find what a reg'lar soft-headed, 
 ink-red'lous turnip I must ha 1 been for there ain't nobody like you 
 though /like you better than nothin' at all.' I thought it best to 
 make that rayther strong," said Sam, looking up. 
 
 Mr. W T eller nodded approvingly, and Sam resumed. 
 
 " ' So I take the privilidgeof the day, Mary, my dear as the gen'lem'n 
 in difficulties did, ven he valked out of a Sunday, to tell yon that the 
 first and only time I see you your likeness was took on my hart in 
 much quicker time and brighter colours than ever a likeness was took 
 by the profeel macheen (wich p'r'aps you may have heerd on Mary 
 my dear) altho it does finish a portrait and put the frame and glass on 
 complete with a hook at the end to hang it up by and all in two 
 minutes and a quarter.' " 
 
 " I am afeerd that werges on the poetical, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, 
 dubiously. 
 
 " No it don't," replied Sam, reading on very quickly, to avoid con- 
 testing the point. 
 
 " ' Except of me Mary my dear as your walentine and think over 
 what I've said. My dear Mary I will now conclude.' That's all," said 
 Sam.. 
 
 " That's rayther a sudden pull up, ain't it, Sammy?" inquired Mr. 
 Weller. 
 
 " Not a bit on it," said Sam ; " she'll vish there wos more, and that's 
 the great art o' letter writin'." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Weller, " there's somethin' in that ; and I wish 
 your mother-in-law 'ud only conduct her conwersation on the same 
 gen-tf el principle. Ain't you a goin* to sign it ?" 
 
 " That's the difficulty," said Sam ; " I don't know what to sign it." 
 
 " Sign it Veller," said the oldest surviving proprietor of that 
 name. 
 
 " Won't do," said Sam. " Never sign a walentine with your own 
 name." 
 
 " Sign it ' Pickvick,' then," said Mr. Weller ; ' it's a wery good 
 name, and a easy one to spell."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 345 
 
 " The wery thing," said Sam. " I could end with a werse ; what do 
 you think?" 
 
 " I don't like it, Sam," rejoined Mr. Weller. " I never know'd a 
 respectable coachman as wrote poetry, 'cept one, as made an affectin' 
 copy o' werses the night afore he wos hung for a highway robbery ; 
 and he wos only a Cambervell man, so even that's no rule." 
 
 But Sam was not to be dissuaded from the poetical idea that had 
 occurred to him, so he signed the letter 
 
 " Your love-sick 
 Pickwick." 
 
 And having folded it, in a very intricate manner, squeezed a down-hill 
 direction in one corner : " To Mary, Housemaid, at Mr. Nupkins's 
 Mayor's, Ipswich, Suffolk " ; and put it into his pocket, watered, and 
 ready for the General Post. This important business having been 
 transacted, Mr. Weller the elder proceeded to open that, on which he 
 had summoned his son. 
 
 " The first matter relates to your governor, Sammy," said Mr. Wel- 
 ler. " He's a goin' to be tried to-morrow, ain't he? " 
 
 ' The trials a comin' on," replied Sam. 
 
 " Veil," said Mr. Weller, " Now I s'pose he'll want to call some 
 witnesses to speak to his character, or p'raps to prove a alleybi. I've been a 
 turnin the bus'ness over in my mind, and he may make his-self easy, 
 Sammy. I've got some friends as'll do either for him, but my adwice 
 'ud be this here never mind the character, and stick to the alleybi. 
 Nothing like a alleybi, Sammy, nothing." Mr. W'eller looked very 
 profound as he delivered this legal opinion ; and burying his nose in 
 his tumbler, winked over the top thereof, at his astonished son. 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ?" said Sam ; " you don't think he's a 
 goin' to be tried at the Old Bailey, do you ? " 
 
 " That ain't no part of the present con-sideration, Sammy," replied 
 Mr. Weller. " Verever he's a goin' to be tried, my boy, a alleybi's 
 the thing to get him off. Ve got Tom Vildspark off that 'ere man- 
 slaughter, with a alleybi, ven all the big vigs to a man said as nothing 
 couldn't save him. And my 'pinion is, Sammy, that if your governor 
 don't prove a alleybi, he'll be what the Italians call reg'larly flummoxed, 
 and that's all about it." 
 
 As the elder Mr. Weller entertained a firm and unalterable conviction 
 that the Old Bailey was the supreme court of judicature in this country, 
 and that its rules and forms of proceeding regulated and controlled the 
 practice of all other courts of justice whatsoever, he totally disregarded 
 the assurances and arguments of his son, tending to show that the alibi 
 was inadmissible ; and vehemently protested that Mr. Pickwick was 
 being " wictimised." Finding that it was of no use to discuss the 
 matter further, Sam changed the subject, and inquired what the second 
 topic was, on which his revered parent wished to consult him. 
 
 " That's a pint o' domestic policy, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. 
 " This here Stiggins " 
 
 " Red-nosed man ?" inquired Sam.
 
 346 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " The wery same/' replied Mr. Weller. " This here red-nosed man, 
 Sammy, wisits your mother-in-law vith a kindness and constancy as I 
 never see equalled. He's sitch a friend o' the family, Sammy, that ven 
 he's avay from us, he can't be comfortable unless he has sornethin' to 
 remember us by." 
 
 " And I'd give him somethin' as 'ud turpentine and bees'-vax his 
 memory for the next ten years or so, if I wos you," interposed Sam. 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Mr. Weller; " I wos a goin to say, he always 
 brings now, a flat bottle as holds about a pint and ahalf, and fills it vith 
 the pine-apple rum afore he goes avay." 
 
 " And empties it afore he comes back, I s'pose," said Sam. 
 
 " Clean !" replied Mr. Weller ; " never leaves nothin' in it but the 
 cork and the smell : trust him for that, Sammy. Now these here 
 fellows, my boy, are a goin', to-night, to get up the monthly meetin' 
 o' the Brick Lane Branch o' the United Grand Junction Ebenezer 
 Temperance Association. Your mother-in-law wos a goin', Sammy, 
 but she's got the rheumatics, and can't ; and I, Sammy, I've got the 
 two tickets as wos sent her." Mr. Weller communicated this secret 
 with great glee, and winked so indefatigably after doing so, that Sam 
 began to think he must have got the tic doloureux in his right eye-lid. 
 
 " Well ?" said that young gentleman. 
 
 " Well," continued his progenitor, looking round him very cautiously, 
 " you and I'll go, punctiwal to the time. The deputy shepherd won't, 
 Sammy ; the deputy shepherd won't." Here Mr. Weller was seized 
 with a paroxysm of chuckles, which gradually terminated in as near an 
 approach to a choke, as an elderly gentleman can, with safety, sustain. 
 
 " Well, I never see sitch an old ghost in all my born days," exclaimed 
 Sam, rubbing the old gentleman's back, hard enough to set him on fire 
 with the friction. " What are you a laughin* at, corpilence ?" 
 
 " Hush ! Sammy," said Mr. Weller, looking round him with increased 
 caution, and speaking in a whisper : " Two friends o' mine, as works 
 on the Oxford Road, and is up to all kinds o' games, has got the deputy 
 shepherd safe in tow, Sammy ; and ven he does come to the Ebenezer 
 Junction, (vich he's sure to do : for they'll see him to the door, and 
 shove him in if necessary) he'll be as far gone in rum and water, as 
 ever he wos at the Markis o' Granby, Dorkin', and that's not savin' a little 
 either." And with this, Mr. Weller once more laughed immoderately, 
 and once more relapsed into a state of partial suffocation, in con- 
 sequence. 
 
 Nothing could have been more in accordance with Sam Waller's 
 feelings, than the projected exposure of the real propensities and 
 qualities of the red-nosed man ; and it being very near the appointed 
 hour of meeting, the father and son took the way at once to Brick 
 Lane : Sam not forgetting to drop his letter into a general post-office 
 as they walked along. 
 
 The monthly meetings of the Brick Lane Branch of the United 
 Grand Junction Ebenezer Temperance Association, were held in a 
 large room, pleasantly and airily situated at the top of a safe and com- 
 modious ladder. The president was the straight-walking Mr. Anthony
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 347 
 
 Humm, a converted fireman, now a schoolmaster, and occasionally an 
 itinerant preacher ; and the secretary was Mr. Jonas Mudge, chandler's 
 shop-keeper, an enthusiastic and disinterested vessel, who sold tea to 
 the members. Previous to the commencement of business, the ladies 
 sat upon forms, and drank tea, till such time as they considered it 
 expedient to leave off; and a large wooden money-box was conspi- 
 cuously placed upon the green baize cloth of the business table, be- 
 hind which the secretary stood, and acknowledged, with a gracious 
 smile, every addition to the rich vein of copper which lay concealed 
 within. 
 
 On this particular occasion the women drank tea to a most alarming 
 extent ; greatly to the horror of Mr. Weller senior, who, utterly regard- 
 less of all Sam's admonitory nudgings, stared about him in every direc- 
 tion with the most undisguised astonishment. 
 
 " Sammy," whispered Mr. Weller, " if some o' these here people 
 don't want tappin' to-morrow mornin', I ain't your father, and that's 
 wot it is. Why, this here old lady next me is a drownin' herself 
 in tea." 
 
 " Be quiet, can't you ?" murmured Sam. 
 
 " Sam," whispered Mr. Weller, a moment afterwards, in a tone of 
 deep agitation, " mark my vords, my boy : if that 'ere secretary feller 
 keeps on for only five minutes more, he'll blow himself up with toast 
 and water." 
 
 Cl Well, let him, if he likes," replied Sam ; " it ain't no bis'ness o' 
 yourn." 
 
 " If this here lasts much longer, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, in the 
 same low voice, " I shall feel it my duty, as a human bein', to rise and 
 address the cheer. There's a young 'ornan on the next form but two, 
 as has drank nine breakfast cups and a half; and she's a swellin' wisibly 
 hefore my wery eyes." 
 
 There is little doubt that Mr. Weller would have carried his bene- 
 volent intention into immediate execution, if a great noise, occasioned 
 by putting up the cups and saucers, had not very fortunately announced 
 that the tea-drinking was over. The crockery having been removed, 
 the table with the green baize cover was carried out into the centre of 
 the room, and the business of the evening was commenced by a little 
 emphatic man, with a bald head, and drab shorts, who suddenly rushed 
 up the ladder, at the imminent peril of snapping the two little legs 
 encased in the drab shorts, and said : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, 1 move our excellent brother, Mr. Anthony 
 Humm, into the chair." 
 
 The ladies waved a choice collection of pocket-handkerchiefs at this 
 proposition ; and the impetuous little man literally moved Mr. Humm 
 into the chair, by taking him by the shoulders and thrusting him into a 
 mahogany frame which had once represented that article of furniture. 
 The waving of handkerchiefs was renewed ; and Mr. Humm, who was 
 a sleek, white-faced man, in a perpetual perspiration, bowed meekly, to 
 the great admiration of the females, and formally took his seat. 
 Silence was then proclaimed by the little man in the drab shorts, and 
 Mr. Humm rose and said That, with the permission of his Brick
 
 348 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Lane Branch brothers and sisters, then and there present, the secretary 
 would read the report of the Brick Lane Branch committee ; a propo- 
 sition which was again received with a demonstration of pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs. 
 
 The secretary having- sneezed in a very impressive manner, and the 
 cough which always seizes an assembly, when anything- particular is 
 going to be done, having been duly performed, the following document 
 was read : 
 
 " REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE OF THE BRICK LANE BRANCH OF THE 
 UNITED GRAND JUNCTION EBENEZER TEMPERANCE ASSOCIATION. 
 
 " Your committee have pursued their grateful labours during the 
 past month, and have the unspeakable pleasure of reporting the follow- 
 ing additional cases of converts to Temperance. 
 
 " H. Walker, tailor, wife, and two children. When in better cir- 
 cumstances, owns to having been in the constant habit of drinking ale 
 and beer ; says he is not certain whether he did not twice a week, for 
 twenty years, taste ' dog's nose,' which your committee find upon 
 inquiry, to be compounded of warm porter, moist sugar, gin, and 
 nutmeg (a groan, and ' So it is !' from an elderly female). Is now out 
 of work and pennyless ; thinks it must be the porter (cheers) or the 
 loss of the use of his right hand ; is not certain which, but thinks it 
 very likely that, if he had drank nothing but water all his life, his fellow 
 workman would never have stuck a rusty needle in him, and thereby 
 occasioned his accident (tremendous cheering). Has nothing but cold 
 water to drink, and never feels thirsty (great applause). 
 
 " Betsy Martin, widow, one child, and one eye. Goes out charing 
 and washing, by the day ; never had more than one eye, but knows her 
 mother drank bottled stout, and shouldn't wonder if that caused it 
 (immense cheering). Thinks it not impossible that if she had always 
 abstained from spirits, she might have had two eyes by this time 
 (tremendous applause). Used, at every place she went to, to have 
 eighteen pence a day, a pint of porter, and a glass of spirits ; but since 
 she became a member of the Brick Lane Branch, has always demanded 
 three and sixpence instead (the announcement of this most interesting 
 fact was received with deafening enthusiasm). 
 
 " Henry Beller was for many years toast-master at various corpora- 
 tion dinners, during which time he drank a great deal of foreign wine; 
 may sometimes have carried a bottle or two home with him ; is not 
 quite certain of that, but is sure if he did, that he drank the contents. 
 Feels very low and melancholy, is very feverish, and has a constant 
 thirst upon him ; thinks it must be the wine he used to drink (cheers). 
 Is out of employ now ; and never touches a drop of foreign wine by any 
 chance (tremendous plaudits). 
 
 " Thomas Burton is purveyor of cat's-meat to the Lord Mayor and 
 Sheriffs, and several members of the Common Council (the announce- 
 ment of this gentleman's name was received with breathless interest). 
 Has a wooden leg ; finds a wooden leg expensive going over the stones ; 
 wear second-hand wooden legs, and drink a glass of hot gin and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 349 
 
 water regularly every night sometimes two (deep sighs). Found the 
 second-band wooden legs split and rot very quickly ; is firmly per- 
 suaded that their constitution was undermined by the gin and water 
 (prolonged cheering). Buys new wooden legs now, and drinks nothing- 
 but water and weak tea. The new legs last twice as long as the others 
 used to do, and he attributes this solely to his temperate habits (tri- 
 umphant cheers)." 
 
 Anthony Humm now moved that the assembly do regale itself 
 with a song. With a view to their rational and moral enjoy- 
 ment, brother Mordlin had adapted the beautiful words of " Who 
 hasn't heard of a Jolly Young Waterman?" to the tune of the Old Hun- 
 dredth, which he would request them to join him in singing (great 
 applause). He might take that opportunity of expressing his firm 
 persuasion that the late Mr. Dibdin, seeing the errors of his former 
 life, had written that song to show the advantages of abstinence. It 
 was a Temperance song (whirlwinds of cheers). The neatness of the 
 interesting young man's attire, the dexterity of his feathering, the 
 enviable state of mind which enabled him, in the beautiful words of the 
 poet, to 
 
 " Row along, thinking of nothing at all," 
 
 all combined to prove that he must have been a water-drinker (cheers). 
 Oh, what a state of virtuous jollity I (rapturous cheering.) And what 
 was the young man's reward ? Let all young men present mark this : 
 
 " The maidens all flock'd to his boat so readily." 
 
 (Loud cheers, in which the ladies joined.) What a bright example ! 
 The sisterhood, the maidens, flocking round the young waterman, and 
 urging him along the path of duty and of temperance. But, was it the 
 maidens of humble life only, who soothed, consoled, and supported 
 him ? No ! 
 
 " He was always first oars with the fine city ladies." 
 
 (Immense cheering). The soft sex to a man he begged pardon, 
 to a female rallied round the young waterman, and turned with disgust 
 from the drinker of spirits (cheers). The Brick Lane Branch brothers 
 were watermen (cheers and laughter). That room was their boat; that 
 audience were the maidens ; and he (Mr. Anthony Humm), however 
 unworthily, was " firstoars " (unbounded applause). 
 
 " Wot does he mean by the soft sex, Sammy ? " inquired Mr. 
 Weller, in a whisper. 
 
 " The womin," said Sam, in the same tone. 
 
 " He ain't far out there, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller ; " they must 
 be a soft sex, a wery soft sex, indeed, if they let themselves begam- 
 moned by such fellers as him." 
 
 Any further observations from the indignant old gentleman were cut 
 short by the commencement of the song, which Mr. Anthony Humm 
 gave out, two lines at a time, for the information of such of his hearers
 
 350 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 as were unacquainted with the legend. While it was being sung, the little 
 man with the drab shorts disappeared ; he returned immediatibr on its 
 conclusion, and whispered Mr. Anthony Humm, with a face of the 
 deepest importance. 
 
 " My friends," said Mr. Humm, holding up his hand in a depre- 
 catory manner, to bespeak the silence of such of the stout old ladies as 
 were yet, a line or two behind ; " my friends, a delegate from the Dork- 
 ing branch of our society, Brother Stiggins, attends below." 
 
 Out came the pocket-handkerchiefs again, in greater force than ever, 
 for Mr. Stiggins was excessively popular among the female consti- 
 tuency of Brick Lane. 
 
 " He may approach, I think," said Mr. Humm, looking round him, 
 with a fat smile. " Brother Tadger, let, him come forth and greet us." 
 The little man in the drab shorts who answered to the name of 
 Brother Tadger, bustled down the ladder with great speed, and was 
 immediately afterwards heard tumbling up with the reverend Mr. 
 Stiggins. 
 
 " He's a comin', Sammy," whispered Mr. Weller, purple in the 
 countenance with suppressed laughter. 
 
 " Don't say nothin' to me," replied Sam, " for I can't bear it. 
 He's close to the door. 1 hear him a-knockin' his head again the lath 
 and plaster now." 
 
 As Sam Weller spoke, the little door flew open, and brother Tadger 
 appeared, closely followed by the reverend Mr. Stiggins, who no sooner 
 entered, then there was a great clapping of hands, and stamping of feet, 
 and flourishing of handkerchiefs ; to all of which manifestations of 
 delight, Brother Stiggins returned no other acknowledgment than 
 staring with a wild eye, and a fixed smile, at the extreme top of the 
 wick of the candle on the table : swaying his body to and fro, mean- 
 while, in a very unsteady and uncertain manner. 
 
 " Are you unwell, brother Stiggins ? " whispered Mr, Anthony 
 Humm. 
 
 " I am. all right, Sir," replied Mr. Stiggins, in a tone in which 
 ferocity was blended with an extreme thickness of utterance ; " I am 
 all right, Sir." 
 
 " Oh, very well," rejoined Mr. Anthony Humm, retreating a few 
 
 I believe no man here, has ventured to say that I am no^all right, 
 Sir," said Mr. Stiggins. 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," said Mr. Humm. 
 
 " I should advise him not to, Sir ; I should advise him not," said Mr. 
 Stiggins. 
 
 By this time the audience were perfectly silent, and waited with some 
 anxiety for the resumption of business. 
 
 " Will you address the meeting, brother ?" said Mr. Humm, with a 
 smile of invitation. 
 
 " No, Sir," rejoined Mr. Stiggins ; " No Sir. I will not, Sir." 
 
 The meeting looked at each other with raised eye-lids, and a 
 murmur of astonishment ran through the room.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 351 
 
 " It's my opinion, Sir," said Mr. Stiggins, unbuttoning- his coat, and 
 speaking 1 Very loudly ; " it's ray opinion, Sir, that this meeting is 
 drunk, Sir. Brother Tadger, Sir," said Mr. Stiggins, suddenly in- 
 creasing in ferocity, and turning sharp round on the little man in the 
 drab shorts, "you are drunk, Sir." With this, Mr. Stiggins, entertain- 
 ing a praiseworthy desire to promote the sobriety of the meeting, and 
 to exclude therefrom all improper characters, hit brother Tadger on the 
 summit of the nose with such unerring aim, that the drab shorts disap- 
 peared like a flash of lightning. Brother Tadger had been knocked, 
 head first, down the ladder. 
 
 Upon this, the women set up a loud and dismal screaming ; and 
 rushing in small parties before their favourite brothers, flung their 
 arms round them to preserve them from danger. An instance of affec- 
 tion, which had nearly proved fatal to Humm, who, being extremely 
 popular, was all but suffocated by the crowd of female devotees that 
 hung about his neck, and heaped caresses upon him ; the greater 
 part of the lights were quickly put out, and nothing but noise and con- 
 fusion resounded on all sides. 
 
 " Now Sammy," said Mr. Weller, taking off his great coat with much 
 deliberation, "just you step out, and fetch in a watchman." 
 " And wot are you a goin' to do, the while ?"' inquired Sam. 
 " Never you mind me, Sammy," replied the old gentleman ; " I shall 
 ockipy myself in havin' a small settlement with that 'ere Stiggins." 
 And before Sam could interfere to prevent it, his heroic parent had 
 penetrated into a remote corner of the room, and attacked the reverend 
 Mr. Stiggins with manual dexterity. 
 " Come off," said Sam. 
 
 " Come on," cried Mr. Weller ; and without further invitation he 
 gave the reverend Mr. Stiggins a preliminary tap on the head, and 
 began dancing round him in a buoyant and cork like manner, which in 
 a gentleman at his time of life was a perfect marvel to behold. 
 
 Finding all remonstrances unavailing, Sam pulled his hat firmly on, 
 threw his father's coat over his arm, and taking the old man round the 
 waist, forcibly dragged him down the ladder, and into the street ; never 
 releasing his hold, or permitting him to stop, until they reached the 
 corner. As they gained it, they could hear the shouts of the populace, 
 who were witnessing the removal of the reverend Mr. Stiggins to strong 
 lodgings for the night, and hear the noise occasioned by the dispersion 
 in various directions of the Members of the Brick Lane Branch of 
 the United Grand Junction Ebenezer Temperance Association.
 
 352 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 IS WHOLLY DEVOTED TO A FULL AND FAITHFUL REPORT OF THE 
 MEMORABLE TRIAL OF BARDELL AGAINST PICKWICK. 
 
 " I wonder what the foreman of the jury, whoever he'll be, has got 
 for breakfast," said Mr. Snodgrass, by way of keeping up a conver- 
 sation on the eventful morning of the fourteenth of February. 
 
 " Ah I" said Perker, " I hope he's got a good one." 
 
 " Why so ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Highly important very important, my dear Sir," replied Perker. 
 "A good, contented, well-breakfasted juryman, is a capital thing to get 
 hold of. Discontented or hungry jurymen, my dear Sir, always find for 
 the plaintiff." 
 
 " Bless my heart," said Mr. Pickwick, looking very blank ; " what 
 do they do that for? ' 
 
 " Why, I don't know," replied the little man, coolly ; "saves time, 
 I suppose. If it's near dinner-time, the foreman takes out his watch 
 when the jury have retired, and says, ' Dear me, gentlemen, ten minutes 
 to five, I declare ! I dine at five, gentlemen.' ' So do I,' says every 
 body else, except two men who ought to have dined at three, and seem 
 more than half disposed to stand out in consequence. The foreman 
 smiles, and puts up his watch : ' Well, gentlemen, what do we say ? 
 plaintiff or defendant, gentlemen ? I rather think, so far as I am con- 
 cerned, gentlemen, I say, I rather think, but don't let that influence 
 you I rather think the plaintiff's the man.' Upon this, two or three 
 other men are sure to say that they think so too as of course they do ; 
 and then they get on very unanimously and comfortably. Ten minutes 
 past nine!" said the little man, looking at his watch. " Time we 
 were off, my dear Sir ; breach of promise trial court is generally full 
 in such cases. You had better ring for a coach, my dear Sir, or we 
 shall be rather late." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick immediately rang the bell, and a coach having been 
 procured, the four Pickwickians and Mr. Perker ensconced themselves 
 therein, and drove to Guildhall ; Sam Weller, Mr. Lowten, and the 
 blue bag, following in a cab. 
 
 " Lowten, ' said Perker, when they reached the outer hall of the 
 court, " put Mr. Pickwick's friends in the students' box ; Mr. Pickwick 
 himself had 'better sit by me. This way, my dear Sir, this way;" 
 and taking Mr. Pickwick by the coat-sleeve, the little man led him to 
 the low seat just beneath the desks of the King's Counsel, which is 
 constructed for the convenience of attorneys, who from that spot can 
 whisper into the ear of the leading counsel in the case, any instructions 
 that may be necessary during the progress of the trial. The occupants 
 of this seat are invisible to the great body of spectators, inasmuch as 
 they sit on a much lower level than either the barristers or the audience, 
 whose seats are raised above the floor. Of course they have their backs 
 to both, and their faces towards the judge.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 353 
 
 " That's the witness-box, I suppose ? " said Mr. Pickwick, pointing 
 to a kind of pulpit, with a brass rail, on his left hand. 
 
 " That's the witness-box, my dear Sir," replied Perker, disinterring 
 a quantity of papers from the blue bag-, which Lowten had just depo- 
 sited at his feet. 
 
 " And that," said Mr. Pickwick, pointing- to a couple of enclosed 
 seats on his rig-ht, "that's where the jurymen sit, is it not? " 
 
 " The identical place, my dear Sir," replied Perker, tapping- the lid 
 of his snuff-box. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick stood up in a state of great agitation, and took a 
 glance at the court. There were already a pretty large sprinkling of 
 spectators in the gallery, and a numerous muster of gentlemen in 
 wigs in the barristers' seats, who presented, as a body, all that pleasing 
 and extensive variety of nose and whisker for which the bar of England 
 is so justly celebrated. Such of the gentlemen as had got a brief 
 to carry, carried it in as conspicuous a manner as possible, and 
 occasionally scratched their noses therewith, to impress the fact 
 more strongly on the observation of the spectators. Other gentle- 
 men, who had no briefs to show, carried under their arms goodiy 
 octavos, with a red label behind, and that under-done-pie-crust-coloured 
 cover, which is technically known as " law calf." Others, who had 
 neither briefs nor books, thrust their hands into their pockets, and 
 looked as wise as they conveniently could ; while others, again, moved 
 here and there with great restlessness and earnestness of manner, content 
 to awaken thereby, the admiration and astonishment of the uninitiated 
 strangers. The whole, to the great wonderment of Mr. Pickwick, were 
 divided into little groups, who were chatting and discussing the news 
 of the day in the most unfeeling manner possible, just as if no trial 
 at all were coming on. 
 
 A bow from Mr. Phunky, as he entered, and took his seat behind the 
 row appropriated to the King's Counsel, attracted Mr. Pickwick's 
 attention ; and he had scarcely returned it, when Mr. Sergeant 
 Snubbin appeared, followed by Mr. Mallard, who half hid the Sergeant 
 behind a large crimson bag, which he placed on his table, and, after 
 shaking hands with Perker, withdrew. Then there entered two or 
 three more Sergeants, and among them, one with a fat body and a red 
 face, who nodded in a friendly manner to Mr.' Sergeant Snubbin, and 
 said it was a fine morning. 
 
 " Who's that red-faced man, who said it was a fine morning, and 
 nodded to our counsel ? " whispered Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz," replied Perker. " He's opposed to us ; 
 he leads on the other side. That gentleman behind him, is Mr. Skim- 
 pin, his junior." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was just on the point of inquiring, with great abhorrence 
 of the man's cold-blooded villainy, how Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz, who was 
 counsel for the opposite party, dared to presume to tell Mr. Sergeant 
 Snubbin, who was counsel for him, that it was a fine morning, when 
 he was interrupted by a general rising of the barristers, and a loud cry 
 of " Silence!" from the officers of the court. Looking round, he 
 found that this was caused by the entrance of the judge.
 
 354 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Justice Stareleigh (who sat in the absence of the Chief Justice, 
 occasioned by indisposition,) was a most particularly short man, and so 
 fat, that he seemed all face and waistcoat. He rolled in, upon two little 
 turned legs, and having bobbed gravely to the bar, who bobbed gravely 
 to him, put his little legs underneath his table, and his little three- 
 cornered bat upon it ; and when Mr. Justice Stareleigh had done this, 
 all you could see of him was two queer little eyes, one broad pink face, 
 and somewhere about half of a big and very comical-looking wig. 
 
 The judge had no sooner taken his seat, liian the officer on the floor 
 of the court called out " Silence ! " in a commanding tone, upon 
 which another officer in the gallery cried " Silence ! " in an angry 
 manner, whereupon three or four more ushers shouted " Silence ! " in 
 a voice of indignant remonstrance. This being done, a gentleman in 
 black, who sat below the judge, proceeded to call over the names of the 
 jury ; and after a great deal of bawling, it was discovered that only ten 
 special jurymen were present. Upon this, Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz prayed 
 a tales ; the gentleman in black then proceeded to press into the special 
 jury two of the common jurymen ; and a green-grocer and a chemist 
 were caught directly. 
 
 " Answer to your names, gentlemen, that you may be sworn," said 
 the gentleman in black. " Richard Upwitch." 
 
 " Here," said the green-grocer. 
 
 " Thomas Groffin." 
 
 " Here," said the chemist. 
 
 " Take the book, gentlemen. You shall well and truly try " 
 
 " I beg this court's pardon," said the chemist, who was a tall, thin, 
 yellow-visaged man, " but I hope this court will excuse my attendance." 
 
 " On what grounds, Sir?" said Mr. Justice Stareleigh. 
 
 " I have no assistant, my Lord," said the chemist. 
 
 I can't help that, Sir," replied Mr. Justice Stareleigh. " You 
 should hire one." 
 
 " I can't afford it, my Lord," rejoined the chemist. 
 
 " Then you ought to be able to afford it, Sir," said the Judge, red- 
 dening ; for Mr. Justice Stareleigh's temper bordered on the irritable, 
 and brooked not contradiction. 
 
 " I know I ought to do, if I got on as well as I deserved, but I don't, 
 my Lord," answered the chemist. 
 
 " Swear the gentleman," said the Judge, peremptorily. 
 
 The officer had got no further than the " You shall well and truly 
 try," when he was again interrupted by the chemist. 
 
 "I am to.be sworn, my Lord, am I?" said the chemist. 
 ' " Certainly, Sir," replied the testy little Judge. 
 
 " Very well, my Lord," replied the chemist in a resigned manner. 
 "Then there'll be murder before this trial's over; that's all. Swear me 
 if you please, Sir ;" and sworn the chemist was, before the Judge could 
 find words to utter. 
 
 " I merely wanted to observe, my Lord," said the chemist, taking his 
 seat with great deliberation, " that I've left nobody but an errand-boy 
 in my shop. He is a very nice boy, my Lord, but he is not much ac- 
 quainted with drugs ; and I know that the prevailing impression on his
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 355 
 
 mind is, that Epsom salts means oxalic acid ; and syrup of senna, lauda- 
 num. That's all, my Lord." With this, the tall chemist composed him- 
 self into a comfortable attitude, and, assuming 1 a pleasant expression of 
 countenance, appeared to have prepared himself for the worst. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was regarding the chemist with feelings of the deepest 
 horror, when a slight sensation was perceptible in the body of the court; 
 and immediately afterwards Mra. Bardell, supported by Mrs. Cluppins, 
 was led in, and placed, in a drooping state, at the other end of the seat 
 on which Mr. Pickwick sat* An extra sized umbrella was then handed 
 in by Mr. Dodson, and a pair of pattens by Mr. Fogg, each of whom 
 had prepared a most sympathising and melancholy face for the occasion. 
 Mrs. Sanders then appeared, leading in Master Bardell. At sight of 
 her child, Mrs. Bardell started ; suddenly recollecting herself, she kissed 
 him in a frantic manner; and then relapsing into a state of hysterical 
 imbecility, the good lady requested to be informed where she was. In 
 reply to this, Mrs. Cluppins and Mrs. Sanders turned their heads away 
 and wept, while Messrs. Dodson and Fogg intreated the plaintiff to 
 compose herself. Sergeant Buzfuz rubbed his eyes very hard with a 
 large white handkerchief, and gave an appealing look towards the jury, 
 while the Judge was visibly affected, and several of the beholders tried 
 to cough down their emotions. 
 
 " Very good notion that, indeed," whispered Perker to Mr. Pickwick. 
 " Capital fellows those Dodson and Fogg ; excellent ideas of effect, my 
 dear Sir, excellent." 
 
 As Perker spoke, Mrs. Bardell began to recover by slow degrees, 
 while Mrs. Cluppins, after a careful survey of Master Bardell's buttons 
 and the button-holes to which they severally belonged, placed him on 
 the floor of the court in front of his mother, a commanding position in 
 which he could not fail to awaken the full commiseration and sympathy 
 of both Judge and jury. This was not done without considerable oppo- 
 sition, and many tears on the part of the young gentleman himself, who 
 had certain inward misgivings that the placing him within the full glare 
 of the Judge's eye was only a formal prelude to his being immediately 
 ordered away for instant execution, or for transportation beyond the 
 seas during the whole term of his natural life, at the very least. 
 
 " Bardell and Pickwick," cried the gentleman in black, calling on the 
 case, which stood first on the list. 
 
 " I am for the plaintiff, my Lord/' said Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz. 
 "Who is with you, brother Buzfuz?" said the Judge. Mr. Skim- 
 pin bowed, to intimate that he was. 
 
 " I appear for the defendant, my Lord," said Mr. Sergeant Snubbin. 
 " Anybody with you, brother Snubbin ?" inquired the court. 
 "Mr. Phunkr, my Lord," replied Sergeant Snubbin. 
 " Sergeant Buzfuz and Mr. Skimpin for the plaintiff," said the Judge, 
 writing down the names in his note-book, and reading as he wrote; 
 " for the defendant, Sergeant Snubbin and Mr. Monkey." 
 " Beg your Lordship's pardon, Phunky." 
 
 " Oh, very good," said the Judge ; " I never had the pleasure of hear- 
 ing the gentleman's name before." Here Mr. Phunky bowed an 
 
 D D
 
 356 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 smiled, and the Judge bowed and smiled too, and then Mr. Phunky, 
 blushing 1 into the very whites of his eyes, tried to look as if he didn't 
 know that everybody was gazing- at him, a thing which no man ever 
 succeeded in doing yet, and in all reasonable probability, never will. 
 
 " Go on," said the judge. 
 
 The ushers again called silence, and Mr. Skimpin proceeded to " open 
 the case ; " and the case appeared to have very little inside it when he 
 had opened it, for he kept such particulars as he knew, completely to 
 himself, and sat down, after a lapse of three minutes, leaving the jury 
 in precisely the same advanced stage of wisdom as they were in before. 
 
 Sergeant Buzfuz then rose with all the majesty and dignity which 
 the grave nature of the proceedings demanded, and having whispered to 
 Dodson, and conferred briefly with Fogg, pulled his gown over his 
 shoulders,settled his wig, and addressed the jury. 
 
 Sergeant Buzfuz began by saying, that never, in the whole course 
 of his professional experience never, from the very first moment of 
 his applying himself to the study and practice of the law had he 
 approached a case with feelings of such deep emotion, or with such a 
 heavy sense of the responsibility imposed upon him a responsibility, 
 he would say, which he could never have supported, were he not buoyed 
 up and sustained by a conviction so strong, that it amounted to posi- 
 tive certainty that the cause of truth and justice, or, in other words, the 
 cause of his much-injured and most oppressed client, must prevail with 
 the high-minded and intelligent dozen of men whom he now saw in 
 that box before him. 
 
 Counsel always begin in this way, because it puts the jury on the 
 very best terms with themselves, and makes them think what sharp 
 fellows they must be. A visible effect was produced immediately, 
 several jurymen beginning to take voluminous notes with the utmost 
 eagerness. 
 
 " You have heard from my learned friend, gentlemen "continued 
 Sergeant Buzfuz, well knowing that, from the learned friend alluded 
 to, the gentlemen of the jury had heard just nothing at all " you 
 have heard from my learned friend, gentlemen, that this is an action 
 for a breach of promise of marriage, in which the damages are laid at 
 15(W. But you have not heard from my learned friend, inasmuch as 
 it did not come within my learned friend's province to tell you, what 
 are the facts and circumstances of the case. Those facts and circum- 
 stances, gentlemen, you shall hear detailed by me, and proved by the 
 unimpeachable female whom I will place in that box before you." 
 
 Here Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz, .with a tremendous emphasis on the 
 word " box," smote his table with a mighty sound, and glanced at 
 Dodson and Fogg, who nodded admiration of the sergeant, and indig- 
 nant defiance of the defendant. 
 
 " The plaintiff, gentlemen," continued Sergeant Buzfuz, in a soft 
 and melancholy voice, " the plaintiff is a widow ; yes, gentlemen, a 
 widow. The late Mr. Bardell, after enjoying, for many 'years, the 
 esteem and confidence of his sovereign, as one of the guardians of his 
 royal revenues, glided almost imperceptibly from the world, to seek
 

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 357 
 
 elsewhere for that repose and peace which a custom-house can never 
 afford." 
 
 At this pathetic description of the decease of Mr. Bardell, who had 
 been knocked on the head with a quart-pot in a public-house cellar, 
 the learned sergeant's voice faltered, and he proceeded with great 
 emotion 
 
 " Some time before his death, he had stamped his likeness upon a 
 little boy. With this little boy, the only pledge of her departed excise- 
 man, Mrs. Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement 
 and tranquillity of Goswell-street ; and here she placed in her front 
 parlour-window a written placard, bearing this inscription 'Apart- 
 ments furnished for a single gentleman. Enquire within.' " Here 
 Sergeant Buzfuz paused, while several gentlemen of the jury took a 
 note of the document. 
 
 " There is no date to that, is there, Sir? " enquired a juror. 
 
 " There is no date, gentlemen," replied Sergeant Buzfuz ; " but I am 
 instructed to say that it was put in the plaintiff's parlour-window just 
 this time three years. I entreat the attention of the jury to the word- 
 ing of this document ' Apartments furnished for a single gentleman ! ' 
 Mrs. Bardell's opinions of the opposite sex, gentlemen, were derived 
 from a long contemplation of the inestimable qualities of her lost hus- 
 band. She had no fear she had no distrust she had no suspicion 
 all was confidence and reliance. ' Mr. Bardell,' said the widow ; ' Mr. 
 Bardell was a man of honour Mr. Bardell was a man of his word 
 Mr. Bardell was no deceiver Mr. Bardell was once a single gentleman 
 himself ; to single gentlemen I look for protection, for assistance, for 
 comfort, and for consolation in single gentlemen I shall perpetually 
 see something to remind me of what Mr. Bardell was, when he first won 
 my young and untried affections; to a single gentleman, then, shall 
 my lodgings be let.' Actuated by this beautiful and touching im- 
 pulse, (among the best impulses of our imperfect nature, gentlemen,) 
 the lonely and desolate widow dried her tears, furnished her first floor, 
 caught her innocent boy to her maternal bosom, and put the bill up in 
 her parlour window. Did it remain there long? No. The serpent 
 was on the watch, the train was laid, the mine was preparing, the sap- 
 per and miner was at work. Before the bill had been in the parlour- 
 window three days three days, gentlemen a being, erect upon two 
 legs, and bearing all the outward semblance of a man, and not of a 
 monster, knocked at the door of Mrs. Bardell's house. He enquired 
 within ; he took the lodgings ; and on the very next day he entered 
 into possession of them. This man was Pickwick Pickwick, the 
 defendant." 
 
 Sergeant Buzfuz, who had proceeded with such volubility that his 
 face was perfectly crimson, here paused for breath. The silence awoke 
 Mr. Justice Stareleigh, who immediately wrote down something with a 
 pen without any ink in it, and looked unusually profound, to impress 
 the jury with the belief that he always thought most deeply with his 
 eyes shut. Sergeant Buzfuz proceeded. 
 
 " Of this man Pickwick I will say little ; the subject presents but 
 D D 2
 
 358 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 few attractions ; and I, gentlemen, am not the man, nor are you, gentle- 
 men, the men, to delight in the contemplation of revolting heartless- 
 ness, and of systematic villany." 
 
 Here Mr. Pickwick, who had been writhing in silence for some time, 
 gave a violent start, as if some vague idea of assaulting Sergeant Buzfuz, 
 in the august presence of justice and law, suggested itself to his mind. 
 An admonitory gesture from Perker restrained him, and he listened to 
 the learned gentleman's continuation with a look of indignation, which 
 contrasted forcibly with the admiring faces of Mrs. Cluppins and Mrs. 
 Sanders. 
 
 " I say systematic villany, gentlemen," said Sergeant Buzfuz, looking 
 through Mr. Pickwick, and talking at him ; " and when I say systematic 
 villany, let me tell the defendant, Pickwick, if he be in court, as I am 
 informed he is, that it would have been more decent in him, more be- 
 coming, in better judgment and in better taste, if he had stopped away. 
 Let me tell him, gentlemen, that any gestures of dissent or disapproba- 
 tion in which he may indulge in this court will not go down with you ; 
 that you will know how to value and how to appreciate them; and let 
 me tell him further, as my lord will tell you, gentlemen, that a counsel, 
 in the discharge of his duty to his client, is neither to be intimidated 
 nor bullied, nor put down ; and that any attempt to do either the one 
 or the other, or the first, or the last, will recoil on the head of the 
 attempter, be he plaintiff or be he defendant, be his name Pickwick, or 
 Noakes, or Stoakes, or Stiles, or Brown, or Thompson." 
 
 This little divergence from the subject in hand, had of course the in- 
 tended effect of turning all eyes to Mr. Pickwick. Sergeant Buzfuz, 
 having partially recovered from the state of moral elevation into which 
 he had lashed himself, resumed 
 
 " I shall show you, gentlemen, that for two years Pickwick conti- 
 nued to reside constantly, and without interruption or intermission, at 
 Mrs. Bardell's house. I shall show you that Mrs. Bardell, during the 
 whole of that time, waited on him, attended to his comforts, cooked his 
 meals, looked out his linen for the washerwoman when it went abroad, 
 darned, aired, and prepared it for wear, when it came home, and, in short, 
 enjoyed his fullest trust and confidence. I shall show you that, on 
 many occasions, he gave halfpence, and on some occasions even six- 
 pences, to her little boy ; and I shall prove to you, by a witness whose 
 testimony it will be impossible for my learned friend to weaken or 
 controvert, that on one occasion he patted the boy on the head, and, 
 after enquiring whether he had won any alley tors or communeys 
 lately (both of which I understand to be a particular species of marbles 
 much prized by the youth of this town), made use of this remarkable 
 expression 'How should you like to have another father ?' I shall 
 prove to you farther, gentlemen, that about a year ago, Pickwick sud- 
 denly began to absent himself from home, during long intervals, as \i 
 with the intention of gradually breaking off from my client ; but I shall 
 show you also, that his resolution was not at that time sufficiently 
 strong, or that his better feelings conquered, if better feelings he 
 has or that the charms and accomplishments of my client prevailed
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 359 
 
 over his unmanly intentions, by proving to you, that on one 
 occasion, when he returned from the country, he distinctly and in 
 terras, offered her marriage : previously however, taking special care 
 that there should be no witnesses to their solemn contract ; and I am in 
 a situation to prove to you, on the testimony of three of his own friends, 
 most unwilling witnesses, gentlemen most unwilling witnesses 
 that on that morning he was discovered by them holding the plaintiff 
 in his arms, and soothing her agitation by his caresses and endear- 
 ments." 
 
 A visible impression was produced upon the auditors by this part 
 of the learned sergeant's address. Drawing forth two very small scraps 
 of paper, he proceeded 
 
 " And now, gentlemen, but one word more. Two letters have passed 
 between these parties, letters which are admitted to be in the hand- 
 writing of the defendant, and which speak volumes indeed. These let- 
 ters, too, bespeak the character of the man. They are not open, fer- 
 vent, eloquent epistles, breathing nothing but the language of affec- 
 tionate attachment. They are covert, sly, underhanded communications, 
 but, fortunately, far more conclusive than if couched in the most glow- 
 ing language and the most poetic imagery letters that must be viewed 
 with a cautious and suspicious eye letters that were evidently intended 
 at the time, by Pickwick, to mislead and delude any third parties into 
 whose hands they might fall. Let me read the first : ' Garraway's, 
 twelve o'clock. Dear Mrs. B. Chops and Tomata sauce. Yours, 
 PICKWICK.' Gentlemen, what does this mean ? Chops and Tomata 
 sauce. Yours, Pickwick ! Chops ! Gracious heavens ! and Tomata 
 sauce ! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding female 
 to be trifled away, by such shallow artifices as these ? The next has no 
 date whatever, which is in itself suspicious. ' Dear Mrs. B., I shall 
 not be at home till to-morrow. Slow coach.' And then follows this 
 very remarkable expression ' Dont trouble yourself about the warming- 
 pan.' The warming-pan ! Why, gentlemen, who does trouble himself 
 about a warming-pan ? When was the peace of mind of man or woman 
 broken or disturbed by a warming-pan, which is in itself a harmless, a 
 useful, and I will add, gentlemen, a comforting article of domestic furni- 
 ture ? Why is Mrs. Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate her- 
 self about this warming-pan, unless (as is no doubt the case) it is a mere 
 cover for hidden fire a mere substitute for some endearing word or pro- 
 mise, agreably to a preconcerted system of correspondence, artfully 
 contrived by Pickwick with a view to his comtemplated desertion, and 
 which I am not in a condition to explain ? And what does this allusion 
 to the slow coach mean ? For aught I know, it may be a reference to 
 Pickwick himself, who has most unquestionably been a criminally slow 
 coach during the whole of this transaction, but whose speed will now 
 be very unexpectedly accelerated, and whose wheels, gentlemen, as he 
 will find to his cost, will very soon be greased by you! " 
 
 Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz paused in this place, to see whether the jury 
 smiled at his joke ; but as nobody took it but the green grocer, whose 
 sensitiveness on the subject was very probably occasioned by his having
 
 860 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 subjected a chaise-cart to the process in question on that identical morn- 
 ing, the learned sergeant considered it advisable to undergo a slight re- 
 lapse into the dismals before he concluded. 
 
 " But enough of this, gentlemen," said Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz, " it is 
 difficult to smile with an aching heart ; it is ill jesting when our 
 deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects are 
 ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone 
 indeed. The bill is down but there is no tenant. Eligible single 
 gentlemen pass and repass but there is no invitation for them to 
 enquire within, or without. All is gloom and silence in the house ; 
 even the voice of the child is hushed ; his infant sports are disregarded 
 when his mother weeps ; his ' alley tors ' and his ' com moneys ' are 
 alike neglected ; he forgets the long familiar cry of 'knuckle down,' 
 and at tip-cheese, or odd and even, his hand is out. But Pickwick, 
 gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in 
 the desert of Goswell-street Pickwick, who has choaked up the well, 
 and thrown ashes on the sward Pickwick, who comes before you to- 
 day with his heartless tomata sauce and warming pans Pickwick 
 still rears his head with unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a 
 sigh on the ruin he has made. Damages, gentlemen heavy damages 
 is the only punishment with which you can visit him ; the only recom- 
 pence you can award to my client. And for those damages she now 
 appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right-feeling, a conscientious, 
 a dispassionate, a sympathising, a contemplative jury of her civilized 
 countrymen." With this beautiful peroration, Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz 
 sat down, and Mr. Justice Stareleigh woke up. 
 
 " Call Elizabeth Cluppins," said Sergeant Buzfuz, rising a minute 
 afterwards, with renewed vigour. 
 
 The nearest usher called for Elizabeth Tuppins ; another one, at a 
 little distance off, demanded Elizabeth Jupkins ; and a third rushed in a 
 breathless state into King-street, and screamed for Elizabeth Muffins 
 till he was hoarse. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Cluppins, with the combined assistance of Mrs. 
 Bardell, Mrs. Sanders, Mr. Dodson, and Mr. Fogg, was hoisted into the 
 witness-box ; and when she was safelv perched on the top step, Mrs. 
 Bardell stood on the bottom one, with the pocket-handkerchief and 
 pattens in one hand, and a glass bottle that might hold about a quarter 
 of a pint of smelling salts in the other, ready for any emergency. Mrs. 
 Sanders, whose eyes were intently fixed on the judge's face, planted 
 herself close by, with the large umbrella : keeping her right thumb 
 pressed on the spring with an earnest countenance, as if she were fully 
 prepared to put it up at a moment's notice. 
 
 " Mrs. Cluppins," said Sergeant Buzfuz, " pray compose yourself, 
 ma'am;" and, of course, directly Mrs. Cluppins was desired to compose 
 herself she sobbed with increased vehemence, and gave divers alarming 
 manifestations of an approaching fainting fit, or, as she afterwards said, 
 of her feelings being too many for her. 
 
 " Do yo% recollect, Mrs. Cluppins ?" said Sergeant Buzfuz, after a 
 few unimportant questions " do you recollect being in Mrs. Bardell's
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 361 
 
 back one pair of stairs, on one particular morning in July last, when 
 she was dusting Mr. Pickwick's apartment?" 
 
 " Yes, my Lord and Jury, I do," replied Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 "Mr. Pickwick's sitting-room was the first-floor front, I believe? 
 
 " Yes, it were, Sir," replied Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 "What were you doing in the backroom, ma'am?" inquired the 
 little Judge. 
 
 11 My Lord and Jury," said Mrs. Cluppins, with interesting agitation, 
 " I will not deceive you." 
 
 " You had better not, ma'am," said the little Judge. 
 
 te I was there," resumed Mr*. Cluppins, " unbeknown to Mrs. Bardell; 
 I had been out with a little basket, gentlemen, to buy three pound of 
 red kidney pertaties, which was three pound tuppense ha'penny, when 
 I see Mrs. Bardell's street door on the jar." 
 
 " On the what ? exclaimed the little Judge. 
 
 " Partly open, my lord," said Sergeant Snubbin. 
 
 " She said on the jar," said the little Judge, with a cunning look. 
 
 "It's all the same, my lord," said Sergeant Snubbin. The little 
 Judge looked doubtful, and said he'd make a note of it. Mrs. Cluppins 
 then resumed 
 
 " I walked in, gentlemen, just to say good mornin', and went in a 
 permiscuons manner up stairs, and into the back room. Gentlemen, 
 there was the sound of voices in the front room, and " 
 
 " And you listened, I believe, Mrs. Cluppins," said Sergeant Buzfuz. 
 
 " Beggin' your pardon, sir," replied Mrs. Cluppins, in a majestic 
 manner, " I would scorn the haction. The voices was very loud, sir, 
 and forced themselves upon my ear." 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Cluppins, you were not listening, but you heard the 
 voices. Was one of those voices Mr. Pickwick's ? 
 
 " Yes, it were, sir." 
 
 And Mrs. Cluppins, after distinctly stating that Mr. Pickwick ad- 
 dressed himself to Mrs. Bardell, repeated by slow degrees, and by dint 
 of many questions, the conversation with which our readers are already 
 acquainted. 
 
 The Jury looked suspicious, and Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz smiled and sat 
 down. They looked positively awful when Sergeant Snubbin intimated 
 that he should not cross-examine the witness, for Mr. Pickwick wished 
 it to be distinctly stated that it was due to her to say, that her account 
 was in substance correct. 
 
 Mrs. Cluppins having once broken the ice, thought it a very 
 favourable opportunity of entering into a short dissertation on her own. 
 domestic affairs ; so she straightway proceeded to inform the court that 
 she was the mother of eight children at that present speaking, and that 
 she entertained confident expectations of presenting Mr. Cluppins with 
 a ninth, somewhere about that day six months. At this interesting 
 point, the little judge interposed most irascibly ; and the effect of the 
 interposition was, that both the worthy lady and Mrs. Sanders were 
 politely taken out of court, under the escort of Mr. Jackson, without 
 further parley. 9
 
 362 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Nathaniel Winkle," said Mr. Skimpin. 
 
 " Here ! " replied a feeble voice. And Mr. Winkle entered the 
 witness-box, and having been duly sworn, bowed to the judge with 
 considerable deference. 
 
 " Don't look at me, Sir," said the judge, sharply, in acknowledg- 
 ment of the salute ; " look at the jury." 
 
 Mr. Winkle obeyed the mandate, and looked at the place where he 
 thought it most probable the jury might be ; for seeing anything in his 
 then state of intellectual complication was wholly out of the question. 
 
 Mr. Winkle was then examined by Mr. Skimpin, who, being a pro- 
 mising young man of two or three and forty, was of course anxious to 
 confuse a witness who was notoriously predisposed in favour of the 
 other side, as much as he could. 
 
 " Now, Sir," said Mr. Skimpin, " have the goodness to let his Lord- 
 ship and the jury know what your name is, will you?" And Mr. 
 Skimpin inclined his head on one side to listen with great sharpness to 
 the answer, and glanced at the jury meanwhile, as if to imply that he 
 rather expected Mr. Winkle's natural taste for perjury would induce 
 him to give some name which did not belong to him. 
 
 " Winkle," replied the witness. 
 
 " What's your Christian name, Sir ? " angrily inquired the little 
 judge. 
 
 " Nathaniel, Sir." 
 
 " Daniel, any other name ? " 
 
 " Nathaniel, Sir my Lord, I mean." 
 
 " Nathaniel Daniel, or Daniel Nathaniel? " 
 
 " No, my Lord, only Nathaniel not Daniel at all." 
 
 " What did you tell me it was Daniel for, then, Sir ? " inquired 
 the judge. 
 
 " I didn't, my Lord, " replied Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " You did, Sir," replied the judge, with a severe frown-. " How 
 could I have got Daniel on my notes, unless you told me so, Sir ? " 
 
 This argument was, of course, unanswerable. 
 
 " Mr. Winkle has rather a short memory, my Lord," interposed Mr. 
 Skimpin, with another glance at the jury. " We shall find means to 
 refresh it before we have quite done with him, I dare say." 
 
 " You had better be careful, Sir," said the little judge, with a sinister 
 look at the witness. 
 
 Poor Mr. Winkle bowed, and endeavoured to feign an easiness of 
 manner, which, in his then state of confusion, gave him rather the air of 
 a disconcerted pickpocket. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Winkle," said Mr. Skimpin, " attend to me, if you 
 please, Sir ; and let me recommend you, for your own sake, to bear in 
 mind his Lordship's injunctions to be careful. I believe you are a par- 
 ticular friend of Mr. Pickwick, the defendant, are you not ? " 
 
 " I have known Mr. Pickwick now, as well as I recollect at this 
 moment, nearly " 
 
 Pray, Mr. Winkle, do not evade the question. Are you, or are 
 you not, a particular friend of the defendant's ? "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 363 
 
 " I was just about to say, that " 
 
 " Will you, or will you not, answer my question, Sir ? " 
 
 " If you don't answer the question, you'll be committed, Sir," inter- 
 posed the little judge, looking over his note-book. 
 
 " Come, Sir," said Mr. Skimpin, " yes or no, if you please." 
 
 " Yes, I am," replied Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Yes, you are. And why couldn't you say that at once, Sir? 
 Perhaps you know the plaintiff too eh, Mr. Winkle ? " 
 
 " I don't know her; I've seen her." 
 
 " Oh, you don't know her, but you've seen her? Now, have the 
 goodness to tell the gentlemen of the jury what you mean by that, 
 Mr. Winkle." 
 
 <f I mean that I am not intimate with her, but that I have seen her 
 when I went to call on Mr. Pickwick, in Goswell-street." 
 
 " How often have you seen her, Sir ? " 
 
 " How often ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Winkle, how often ? I'll repeat the question for you a 
 dozen times, if you require it, Sir." And the learned gentleman, with 
 a firm and steady frown, placed his hands on his hips, and smiled sus- 
 piciously to the jury. 
 
 On this question there arose the edifying brow-beating, customary 
 on such points. First of all, Mr. Winkle said it was quite impossible 
 for him to say how many times he had seen Mrs. Bardell. Then he 
 was asked if he had seen her twenty times, to which he replied, " Cer- 
 tainly, more than that." And then he was asked whether he hadn't 
 seen her a hundred times whether he couldn't swear that he had seen 
 her more than fifty times whether he didn't know that he had seen 
 her at least seventy-five times, and so forth ; the satisfactory conclusion 
 which was arrived at, at last, being that he had better take care of 
 himself, and mind what he was about. The witness having been by 
 these means reduced to the requisite ebb of nervous perplexity, the 
 examination was continued as follows 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Winkle, do you remember calling on the defendant Pick- 
 wick at these apartments in the plaintiffs house in Goswell-street, on 
 one particular morning, in the month of July last ? " 
 
 Yes, I do." 
 
 " Were you accompanied on that occasion by a friend of the name of 
 Tupman, and another of the name of Snodgrass ? " 
 
 "Yes, I was?." 
 
 " Are they here?" 
 
 " Yes, they are" replied Mr. Winkle, looking very earnestly towards 
 the spot where his friends were stationed. 
 
 " Pray attend to me, Mr. Winkle, and never mind your friends" 
 said Mr. Skimpin, with another expressive look at the jury. " They 
 must tell their stories without any previous consultation with you, if 
 none has yet taken place (another look at the jury). Now, Sir, tell the 
 gentlemen of the jury what you saw on entering the defendant's room, 
 on this particular morning. Come; out with it, Sir; we must have it, 
 sooner or later."
 
 364 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " The defendant, Mr. Pickwick, was holding the plaintiff in his arms, 
 with his hands clasping her waist," replied Mr. Winkle with natural 
 hesitation, " and the plaintiff appeared to have fainted away." 
 
 " Did you hear the defendant say anything ?" 
 
 " I heard him call Mrs. Bardeli a good creature, and I heard him ask 
 her to compose herself, for what a situation it was, if any body should 
 come, or words to that effect." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Winkle, I have only one more question to ask you, and I 
 beg you to bear in mind his lordship's caution. Will you undertake to 
 swear that Pickwick, the defendant, did not say on the occasion in ques- 
 tion ' My dear Mrs. Bardeli, you're a good creature ; compose your- 
 self to this situation, for to this situation you must come, or words to 
 that effect ? '" 
 
 " I I didn't understand him so, certainly," said Mr. Winkle, astounded 
 at this ingenious dove-tailing of the few words he had heard. " I was 
 on the staircase, and couldn't hear distinctly ; the impression on my 
 mind is " 
 
 " The gentlemen of the jury want none of the impressions on 
 your mind, Mr. Winkle, which I fear would be of little service to 
 honest, straight-forward men," interposed Mr. Skimpin. " You were on 
 the staircase, and didn't distinctly hear; but you will not swear that 
 Pickwick did not make use of the expressions I have quoted ? Do I un- 
 derstand that ?" 
 
 " No I will not," replied Mr. Winkle ; and down sat Mr. Skimpin 
 with a triumphant countenance. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's case had not gone off in so particularly happy a man- 
 ner, up to this point, that it could very well afford to have any addi- 
 tional suspicion cast upon it. But as it could afford to be placed in a 
 rather better light, if possible, Mr. Phunky rose for the purpose of 
 getting something important out of Mr. Winkle in cross-examination. 
 Whether he did get anything important out of him, will immediately 
 appear. 
 
 " I believe, Mr. Winkle," said Mr. Phunky, " that Mr. Pickwick is 
 Dot a young man ?" 
 
 " Oh no," replied Mr. Winkle ; " old enough to be my father ?" 
 
 " You have told my learned friend that you have known Mr. Pick- 
 wick a long time. Had you ever any reason to suppose or believe that 
 he was about to be married?" 
 
 " Oh no ; certainly not ;" replied Mr. Winkle with so much eagerness, 
 that Mr. Fhunky ought to have got him out of the box with all pos- 
 sible dispatch. Lawyers hold that there are two kinds of particularly 
 bad witnesses, a reluctant witness, and a too-willing witness; it was 
 Mr. Winkle's fate to figure in both characters. 
 
 " I will even go further than this, Mr. Winkle," continued Mr. 
 Phunky in a most smooth and complacent manner. " Did you ever 
 see any thing in Mr. Pickwick's manner and conduct towards the oppo- 
 site sex to induce you to believe that he ever contemplated matrimony 
 of late years, in any case ?" 
 
 " Oh no ; certainly not," replied Mr. Winkle.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 365 
 
 " Has his behaviour, when females have been in the case, always been 
 that of a man, who, having- attained a pretty advanced period of life, 
 content with his own occupations and amusements, treats them only as 
 a father might his daughters ?" 
 
 " Not the least doubt of it," replied Mr. Winkle, in the fulness of his 
 heart. " That is yes oh yes certainly." 
 
 " You have never known any thing in his behaviour towards Mrs. 
 Bardell, or any other female, in the least degree suspicious ? " said Mr. 
 Phunky, preparing to sit down, for Sergeant Snubbin was winking at 
 him. 
 
 " N n no," replied Mr. Winkle, " except on one trifling occasion, 
 which, I have no doubt, might be easily explained." 
 
 Now, if the unfortunate Mr. Phunky had sat down when Sergeant 
 Snubbin winked at him, or if Sergeant Buzfuz had stopped this irre- 
 gular cross-examination at the outset (which he knew better than 
 to do ; observing Mr. Winkle's anxiety, and well knowing it 
 would, in all probability, lead to something serviceable to him), 
 this unfortunate admission would not have been elicited. The mo- 
 ment the words fell from Mr. Winkle's lips, Mr. Phunky sat down, 
 and Sergeant Snubbin rather hastily told him he might leave the box, 
 which Mr. Winkle prepared to do with great readiness, when Sergeant 
 Buzfuz stopped him. 
 
 " Stay, Mr. Winkle stay,'' said Sergeant Buzfuz, " will your lordship 
 have the goodness to ask him, what this one instance of suspicious 
 behaviour towards females on the part of this gentleman, who is old 
 enough to be his father, was ?" 
 
 " You hear what the learned counsel says, Sir," observed the judge, 
 turning to the miserable and agonized Mr. Winkle. " Describe the 
 occasion to which you refer." 
 
 " My lord," said Mr. Winkle, trembling with anxiety, " I I'd 
 rather not." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said the little judge ; " but you must." 
 
 Amid the profound silence of the whole court, Mr. Winkle faltered 
 out, that the trifling circumstance of suspicion was Mr. Pickwick's 
 being found in a lady's sleeping apartment at midnight, which had ter- 
 minated, he believed, in the breaking off of the projected marriage of 
 the lady in question, and led, he knew, to the whole party being 
 forcibly carried before George Nupkins, Esq., magistrate and justice 
 of the peace, for the borough of Ipswich ?' 
 
 " You may leave the box, Sir," said Sergeant Snubbin. Mr. Winkle 
 did leave the box, and rushed with delirious haste to the George and 
 Vulture, where he was discovered some hours after, by the waiter, 
 groaning in a hollow and dismal manner, with his head buried beneath 
 the sofa cushions. 
 
 Tracy Tupman, and Augustus Snodgrass, were severally called into 
 the box ; both corroborated the testimony of their unhappy friend ; 
 and each was driven to the verge of desperation by excessive 
 hadgering.
 
 366 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Susannah Sanders was then called, and examined by Sergeant Buz- 
 fuz, and cross-examined by Sergeant Snubbin. Had always said and 
 believed that Mr. Pickwick would marry Mrs. Bardell ; knew that Mrs. 
 Bardell's being engaged to Mr. Pickwick was the current topic of con- 
 versation in the neighbourhood, after the fainting in July ; had been 
 told it herself by Mrs. Mudberry which kept a mangle, and Mrs. Bun- 
 kin which clear-starched, but did not see either Mrs. Mudberry or Mrs. 
 Bunkin in court. Had heard Mr. Pickwick ask the little boy how he 
 should like to have another father. Did not know that Mrs. Bardell was 
 at that time keeping company with the baker, but did know that the 
 baker was then a single man and is now married. Couldn't swear that 
 Mrs. Bardell was not very fond of the baker, but should think that 
 the baker was not very fond of Mrs. Bardell, or he wouldn't have 
 married somebody else. Thought Mrs. Bardell fainted away on the 
 morning in July, because Mr. Pickwick asked her to name the day; 
 knew that she (witness) fainted away stone dead when Mr. Sanders 
 asked her to name the day, and believed that every body as called her- 
 self a lady would do the same, under similar circumstances. Heard 
 Mr. Pickwick ask the boy the question about the marbles, but upon 
 her oath did not know the difference between an alley tor and a 
 commoney. 
 
 By the COURT During the period of her keeping company with 
 Mr. Sanders had received love letters, like other ladies. In the course 
 of their correspondence Mr. Sanders had often called her a " duck " 
 but never " chops " or " tomata sauce." He was particularly fond of 
 ducks. Perhaps if he had been as fond of chops and tomata sauce, 
 he might have called her that, as a term of affection. 
 
 Sergeant Buzfuz now rose with more importance than he had yet 
 exhibited, if that were possible, and vociferated " Call Samuel Weller." 
 
 It was quite unnecessary to call Samuel Weller, for Samuel Weller 
 stepped briskly into the box the instant his name was pronounced ; and 
 placing his hat on the floor, and his arms on the rail, took a bird's- 
 eye view of the bar, and a comprehensive survey of the bench with a 
 remarkably cheerful and lively aspect. 
 
 "What's your name, Sir? " enquired the Judge. 
 
 " Sam Weller, my Lord," replied that gentleman. 
 
 " Do you spell it with a ' V ' or a ' W ? ' " enquired the Judge. 
 
 " That depends upon the taste and fancy of the speller, my Lord," re- 
 plied Sam, " I never had occasion to spell it more than once or twice 
 in my life, but I spells it with a ' V. ' " 
 
 Here a voice in the gallery exclaimed aloud, " Quite right too, Sami- 
 vel ; quite right. Put it down a we, my Lord, put it down a we." 
 
 " Who is that, that dares to address the Court ? " said the little Judge, 
 looking up, " Usher." 
 
 " Yes, my Lord." 
 
 " Bring that person here instantly." 
 
 " Yes, my Lord." 
 
 But as the usher didn't find the person, he didn't bring him ; and,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 367 
 
 after a great commotion, all the people who had got up to look for the 
 culprit, sat down again. The little Judge turned to the witness as soon 
 as his indignation would allow him to speak, and said 
 
 " Do you know who that was, Sir ? " 
 
 " I rayther suspect it was my father, my Lord," replied Sara. 
 
 " Do you see him here now ?" said the Judge. 
 
 " No, I don't, my Lord," replied Sam, staring right up into the lan- 
 tern in the roof of the Court. 
 
 "If you could have pointed him out, I would have committed him 
 instantly," said the Judge. [Sam bowed his acknowledgments and 
 turned, with unimpaired cheerfulness of countenance, towards Sergeant 
 Buzfuz. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Weller," said Sergeant Buzfuz. 
 
 " Now, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " I believe you are in the service of Mr. Pickwick, the defendant in 
 this case. Speak up, if you please, Mr. Weller." 
 
 "I mean to speak up, Sir," replied Sam, " I am in the service o' that 
 'ere gen'l'man, and a wery good service it is." 
 
 " Little to do, and plenty to get, I suppose ?" said Sergeant Buzfuz, 
 with jocularity. 
 
 " Oh, quite enough to get, Sir, as the soldier said ven they ordered 
 him three hundred and fifty lashes," replied Sam. 
 
 " You must not tell us what the soldier, or any other man, said, Sir," 
 interposed the Judge, " it's not evidence." 
 
 *' Wery good, my Lord," replied Sam. 
 
 " Do you recollect anything particular happening on the morning 
 when you were first engaged by the defendant, eh, Mr. Weller ?" said 
 Sergeant Buzfuz. 
 
 " Yes I do, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " Have the goodness to tell the Jury what it was." 
 
 " I had a reg'lar new fit out o' clothes that mornin', genTmen of the 
 jury," said Sam, " and that was a wery partickler and uncommon cir- 
 cumstance vith me in those days." 
 
 Hereupon there was a general laugh ; and the little Judge, looking 
 with an angry countenance over his desk, said, " You had better be 
 careful, Sir." 
 
 " So Mr. Pickwick said at the time, my Lord," replied Sam, " and I 
 was wery careful o' that 'ere suit o' clothes ; wery careful indeed, my 
 Lord." 
 
 The Judge looked sternly at Sam for full two minutes, but Sam's 
 features were so perfectly calm and serene that he said nothing, and 
 motioned Sergeant Buzfuz to proceed. 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Weller," said Sergeant Buzfuz, fold- 
 ing his arms emphatically, and turning half round to the Jury, as if in 
 mute assurance that he would bother the witness yet " Do you mean 
 to tell me, Mr. Weller, that you saw nothing of this fainting on the 
 part of the plaintiff in the arms of the defendant, which you have heard 
 described by the witnesses ? "
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Sam, " I was in the passage 'till they called 
 me up, and then the old lady was not there." 
 
 " Now, attend, Mr. Weller," said Sergeant Buzfuz, dipping a large 
 pen into the inkstand before him, for the purpose of frightening Sam 
 with a show of taking down his answer. " You were in the passage 
 and yet saw nothing of what was going forward. Have you a pair of 
 eyes, Mr. Weller?" 
 
 " Yes, I have a pair of eyes," replied Sam, " and that's just it. If they 
 wos a pair o' patent double million magnifyin' gas miscroscopes of 
 hextra power, p'raps I might be able to see through a flight o' stairs and 
 a deal door; but bein' only eyes you see, my wision's limited." 
 
 At this answer, which was delivered without the slightest appearance 
 of irritation, and with the most complete simplicity and equanimity of 
 manner, the spectators tittered, the little Judge smiled, and Sergeant 
 Buzfuz looked particularly foolish. After a short consultation with 
 Dodson and Fogg, the learned Sergeant again turned towards Sam, and 
 said,, with a painful effort to conceal his vexation, " Now, Mr. Weller, 
 I'll ask you a question on another point, if you please." 
 
 " If you please, Sir," rejoined Sam, with the utmost good-humour. 
 
 " Do you remember going up to Mrs. Bardell's house, one night in 
 November last?" 
 
 " Oh yes, wery well." 
 
 " Oh, you do remember that, Mr. Weller," said Sergeant Buzfuz, 
 recovering his spirits, " I thought we should get at something at last." 
 
 " I rayther thought that, too, Sir," replied Sam ; and at this the spec- 
 tators tittered again. 
 
 '< Well ; I suppose you went up to have a little talk about this trial 
 eh, Mr. Weller?" said Sergeant Buzfuz, looking knowingly at the jury. 
 
 " I went up to pay the rent ; but we did get a talkin' about the trial," 
 replied Sam. 
 
 " Oh you did get a talking about the trial," said Sergeant Buzfuz, 
 brightening up with the anticipation of some important discovery. 
 " Now what passed about the trial ; will you have the goodness to tell 
 us, Mr. Weller ?" 
 
 " Vith all the pleasure in life, Sir," replied Sam. " Arter a few 
 unimportant obserwations from the two wirtuous females as has been 
 examined here to-day, the ladies gets into a very great state o' admi- 
 ration at the honorable conduct of Mr. Dodson and Fogg them two 
 gen'l'men as is settin' near you now." This, of course, drew general at- 
 tention to Dodson and Fogg, who looked as virtuous as possible. 
 
 " The attornies for the plaintiff," said Mr. Sergeant Buzfuz, " well 
 they spoke in high praise of the honorable conduct of Messrs. Dodson 
 and Fogg, the attornies for the plaintiff, did they ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Sam, "they said what a wery gen'rous thing it was o'them 
 to have taken up the case on spec, and to charge nothin' at all for costs, 
 unless they got 'em out of Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 At this very unexpected reply, the spectators tittered again, and 
 Dodson and Fogg, turning very red, leant over to Sergeant Buzfuz, and 
 in a hurried manner whispered something in his ear.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 369 
 
 " Ycm are quite right," said Sergeant Buzfuz aloud, with affected 
 composure. " It's perfectly useless, ray Lord, attempting to get at any 
 evidence through the impenetrable stupidity of this witness. I will 
 not trouble the court by asking him any more questions. Stand down, 
 Sir." 
 
 " Would any other gen'l'man like to ask me anythin' ? " inquired 
 Sam, taking up his hat, and looking round most deliberately. 
 
 " Not I, Mr. Weller, thank you," said Sergeant Snubbin, laughing. 
 
 " You may go down, Sir," said Sergeant Buzfuz, waving his hand im- 
 patiently. Sam went down accordingly, after doing Messrs. Dodson and 
 Fogg's case as much harm as he conveniently could, and saying just as 
 little respecting Mr. Pickwick as might be, which was precisely the 
 object he had had in view all along. 
 
 " I have no objection to admit, my Lord," said Sergeant Snubbin, " if 
 it will save the examination of another witness, that Mr. Pickwick 
 has retired from business, and is a gentleman of considerable independent 
 property." 
 
 " Very well," said Sergeant Buzfuz, putting in the two letters for the 
 clerk to read, " Then that's my case, my Lord." 
 
 Sergeant Snubbin then addressed the jury on behalf of the defendant; 
 and a very long and a very emphatic address he delivered, in which he 
 bestowed the highest possible eulogiums on the conduct and character 
 of Mr. Pickwick, but inasmuch as our readers are far better able to 
 form a correct estimate of that gentleman's merits and deserts, than 
 Sergeant Snubbin could possibly be, we do not feel called upon to enter 
 at any length into the learned gentleman's observations. He at- 
 tempted to shew that the letters which had been exhibited, merely 
 related to Mr. Pickwick's dinner, or to the preparations for receiving 
 him in his apartments on his return from some country excursion. It 
 is sufficient to add in general terms, that he did the best he could for 
 Mr. Pickwick; and the best, as every body knows, on the infallible 
 authority of the old adage, could do no more. 
 
 Mr. Justice Stareleigh summed up, in the old-established and most ap- 
 proved form. He read as much of his notes to the jury as he could 
 decipher on so short a notice, and made running comments on the evi- 
 dence as he went along. If Mrs. Bardell was right, it was perfectly 
 clear Mr. Pickwick was wrong, and if they thought the evidence of Mrs. 
 Cluppius worthy of credence they would believe it, and, if they didn't, 
 why they wouldn't. If they were satisfied that a breach of promise of 
 marriage had been committed, they would find for the plaintiff with 
 such damages as they thought proper; and if, on the other hand, 
 it appears to them that no promise of marriage had ever been given, 
 they would find for the defendant with no damages at all. The jury 
 then retired to their private room to talk the matter over, and the 
 Judge retired to his private room, to refresh himself with a mutton 
 chop and a glass of sherry. 
 
 An anxious quarter of an hour elapsed ; the jury came back, and the 
 judge was fetched in. Mr. Pickwick put on his spectacles, and gazed
 
 870 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 at the foreman with an agitated countenance and a quickly beating 
 heart. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the individual in black, " are you all agreed upon 
 your verdict ? " 
 
 " We are," replied the foreman. 
 
 " Do you find for the plaintiff, gentlemen, or for the defendant ? " 
 
 For the plaintiff." 
 
 " With what damages, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Seven hundred and fifty pounds." 
 
 'Mr. Pickwick took off his spectacles, carefully wiped the glasses, 
 folded them into the case, and put them in his pocket ; then having 
 drawn on his gloves with great nicety, and stared at the foreman all 
 the while, he mechanically followed Mr. Perker and the blue bag oufc 
 of court. 
 
 They stopped in a side room while Perker paid the court fees ; and 
 here Mr. Pickwick was joined by his friends. Here, too, he encoun- 
 tered Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, rubbing their hands with every token 
 of outward satisfaction. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Dodson, for self and partner. 
 
 " You imagine you'll get your costs, don't you, gentlemen ? " said 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Fogg said they thought it rather probable ; and Dodson smiled, and 
 said they'd try. 
 
 " You may try, and try, and try again, Messrs. Dodscm and Fogg," 
 said Mr. Pickwick vehemently, " but not one farthing of costs or 
 damages do you ever get from me, if I spend the rest of my existence 
 in a debtor's prison." 
 
 " Ha, ha!" said Dodson, You'll think better of that, before next 
 term, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " He, he, he ! we'll soon see about that, Mr. Pickwick," grinned 
 Fogg. 
 
 Speechless with indignation, Mr. Pickwick allowed himself to be led 
 by his solicitor and friends to the door, and there assisted into a hack- 
 ney-coach, which had been fetched for the purpose, by the ever watch- 
 ful Sam Weller. 
 
 Sam had put up the steps, and was preparing to jump upon the box, 
 when he felt himself gently touched on the shoulder; and, looking round, 
 his father stood before him. The old gentleman's countenance wore a 
 mournful expression, as he shook his head gravely and said, in warning 
 accents 
 
 " I know'd what 'ud come o' this here mode o' doin bisness. Oh 
 Sammy, Sammy, vy worn't there a alleybi ! "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV.] 
 
 IN WHICH MR. PICKWICK THINKS HE HAD BETTER GO TO BATH ; 
 AND GOES ACCORDINGLY. 
 
 " But surely, my dear Sir," said little Perker, as he stood in Mr. 
 Pickwick's apartment on the morning after the trial " Surely you 
 don't, really mean really and seriously now, and irritation apart that 
 you won't pay these costs and damages ?" 
 
 ' f Not one halfpenny," said Mr. Pickwick, firmly ; " not one half- 
 penny." 
 
 " Hooroar for the principle, as the money-lender said ven he vouldn't 
 renew the bill," observed Mr. Weller, who was clearing away the break- 
 fast things. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " have the goodness to step down 
 stairs." 
 
 " Cert'nly, Sir," replied Mr. Weller ; and acting on Mr. Pickwick's 
 gentle hint, Sam retired. 
 
 " No, Perker," said Mr. Pickwick, with great seriousness of manner, 
 " my friends here, have endeavoured to dissuade me from this determi- 
 nation, but without avail. I shall employ myself as usual, until the oppo- 
 site party have the power of issuing a legal process of execution against 
 me ; and if they are vile enough to avail themselves of it, and to arrest 
 my person, I shall yield myself up with perfect cheerfulness and con- 
 tent of heart. When can they do this?" 
 
 " They can issue execution, my dear Sir, for the amount of the da- 
 mages and taxed costs, next term," replied Perker, " just two months 
 hence, my dear Sir." 
 
 - " Very good," said Mr. Pickwick. " Until that time, my dear fel- 
 low, let me hear no more of the matter. And now," continued Mr. 
 Pickwick, looking round on his friends with a good-humoured smile, 
 and a sparkle in the eye which no spectacles could dim or conceal, " the 
 only question is, Where shall we go to next?" 
 
 Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass were too much affected by their 
 friend's heroism to offer any reply. Mr. Winkle had not yet suffi- 
 ciently recovered the recollection of his evidence at the trial, to make 
 any observation on any subject, so Mr. Pickwick paused in vain. 
 
 " Well/' said that gentleman, " if you leave me to suggest our des- 
 tination, I say Bath. I think none of us have ever been there." 
 
 Nobody had ; and as the proposition was warmly seconded by Perker, 
 who considered it extremely probable that if Mr. Pickwick saw a little 
 change and gaiety he would be inclined to think better of his determi- 
 nation, and worse of a debtor's prison, it was carried unanimously : and 
 Sam was at once dispatched to the White Horse Cellar, to take five 
 places by the half-past seven o'clock coach, next morning. 
 
 E E
 
 37'2 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Th'ere were just two places to be had inside, and just three to be had 
 out ; so Sam Weller booked for them all, and having- exchanged a few 
 compliments with the booking-office clerk on the subject of a pewter 
 half-crown which was tendered him as a portion of his " change," walked 
 back to the George and Vulture, where he was pretty busily employed 
 till bed-time in reducing clothes and linen into the smallest possible 
 compass, and exerting his mechanical genius in constructing a variety 
 of ingenious devices for keeping the lids on boxes which had neither 
 locks nor hinges. 
 
 The next was a very unpropitious morning for a journey muggy, 
 damp, and drizzly. The horses in the stages that were going out, and 
 had come through the city, were smoking so, that the outside passen- 
 gers were invisible. The newspaper-sellers looked moist and smelt 
 mouldy ; the wet ran off the bats of the orange-venders as they thrust 
 their heads into the coach windows, and diluted the insides in a refresh- 
 ing manner. The Jews with the fifty-bladed penknifes shut them up 
 in despair ; and the men with the pocket-books made pocket-books of 
 them. Watch-guards and toasting-forks were alike at a discount, and 
 pencil-cases and sponge were a drug in the market. 
 
 Leaving Sam Weller to rescue the luggage from the seven or eight 
 porters who flung themselves savagely upon it, the moment the coach 
 stopped, and finding that they were about twenty minutes too early, 
 Mr. Pickwick and his friends went for shelter into the travellers' room 
 the last resource of human dejection. 
 
 The travellers' room at the White Horse Cellar is of course uncom- 
 fortable ; it would be no traveller's room if it were not. It is the right- 
 hand parlour, into which an aspiring kitchen fire-place appears to have 
 walked, accompanied by a rebellious poker, tongs, and shovel. It is 
 divided into boxes for the solitary confinement of travellers, and is fur- 
 nished with a clock, a looking-glass, and a live waiter, which latter article 
 is kept in a small kennel for washing glasses, in a corner of- the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 One of these boxes was occupied on this particular occasion by a 
 stern-eyed man of about five-and-forty, who had a bald and glossy 
 forehead, with a good deal of black hair at the sides and back of his 
 head, and large black whiskers. He was buttoned up to the chin 
 in a brown coat ; and had a large seal-skin travelling cap, and a great- 
 coat and cloak lying on the seat beside him. He looked up from his 
 breakfast as Mr. Pickwick entered, with a fierce and peremptory air, 
 which was very dignified ; and having scrutinized that gentleman and 
 his companions to his entire satisfaction, hummed a tune, in a man- 
 ner which seemed to say that he rather suspected somebody wanted to 
 take advantage of him, but it wouldn't do. 
 
 " Waiter," said the gentleman with the whiskers. 
 
 " Sir?" replied a man with a dirty complexion, and a towel of the 
 same, emerging from the kennel before mentioned. 
 
 " Some more toast." 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 " Buttered toast, mind," said the gentleman, fiercely.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 373 
 
 " D'rectly, Sir," replied the waiter. 
 
 The gentleman with the whiskers hummed a tune in the same man- 
 ner as before, and pending the arrival of the toast, advanced to the front 
 of the fire, and, taking his coat tails under his arms, looked at his boots 
 and ruminated. 
 
 " I wonder whereabouts in Bath this coach puts up," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick, mildly addressing Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Hum eh what's that?" said the strange man. 
 
 " I made an observation to my friend, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, 
 always ready to enter into conversation. "I wondered at what house 
 the Bath coach put up. Perhaps you can inform me." 
 
 " Are you going to Bath ? '' said the strange man. 
 
 " 1 am, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "And those other gentlemen?" 
 
 " They are going also," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Not inside I'll be damned if you're going inside," said the strange 
 man. 
 
 " Not all of us," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No, not all of you," said the strange man emphatically. " I've 
 taken two places. If they try to squeeze six people into an infernal 
 box that only holds four, I'll take a post-chaise and bring an action. 
 I've paid my fare. It won't do; I told the clerk when I took my 
 places that it wouldn't do. I know these things have been done. I 
 know they are done every day, but I never was done, and I never will 
 be. Those who know me best, best know it ; crush me !" Here the 
 fierce gentleman rang the bell with great violence, and told the waiter 
 he'd better bring the toast in five seconds, or he'd know the reason why. 
 
 " My dear Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, " you will allow me to observe 
 that this is a very unnecessary display of excitement. I have only 
 taken places inside, for two." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," said the fierce man. " I withdraw my ex- 
 pressions. I tender an apology. There's my card. Give me your 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " With great pleasure, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick. " We are to be 
 fellow travellers, and I hope we shall find each other's society mutually 
 agreeable." 
 
 " I hope we shall," said the fierce gentleman. " I know we shall. I 
 like your looks ; they please me. Gentlemen, your hands and names. 
 Know me." 
 
 Of course, an interchange of friendly salutations followed this gra- 
 cious speech ; and the fierce gentleman immediately proceeded to inform 
 the friends in the same short abrupt jerking sentences, that his name 
 was Dowler, that he was going to Bath on pleasure, that he was for- 
 merly in the army, that he had now set up in business as a gentleman, 
 that he lived upon the profits, and that the individual for whom the 
 second place was taken, was a personage no less illustrious than Mrs. 
 Dowler, his lady wife. 
 
 " She's a fine woman," said Mr. Dowler. " I am proud of her. I 
 have reason." 
 
 EE2
 
 374 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " 
 
 " I hope T shall have the pleasure of judging," said Mr. Pickwick 
 with a smile. 
 
 " You shall," replied Dowler. " She shall know you. She shall 
 esteem you. I courted her under singular circumstances. I won her 
 through a rash vow. Thus. I saw her ; I loved her ; I proposed ; she 
 refused me. ' You love another?' ' Spare my blushes.' ' I know him.' 
 ' You do.' ' Very good, if he remains here, I'll skin him.' " 
 
 "Lord bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick involuntarily. 
 
 "Did you skin the gentleman, Sir?" inquired Mr. Winkle, with a 
 very pale face. 
 
 " I wrote him a note. I said it was a painful thing. And so it was." 
 
 " Certainly," interposed Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " I said I had pledged my word as a gentleman to skin him. My 
 character was at stake. I had no alternative. As an officer in His 
 Majesty's service, I was bound to do it. I regretted the necessity, but 
 it must be done. He was open to conviction. He saw that the rules 
 of the service were imperative. He fled. I married her. Here's the 
 coach. That's her head." 
 
 As Mr. Dowler concluded, he pointed to a stage which had just 
 driven up : from the open window of which, a rather pretty face in a 
 bright blue bonnet was looking among the crowd on the pavement, 
 most probably for the rash man himself. Mr. Dowler paid his bill and 
 hurried out with his travelling-cap, coat, and cloak ; and Mr. Pickwick 
 and his friends followed to secure their places. 
 
 Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass had seated themselves at the back 
 part of the coach ; Mr. Winkle had got inside, and Mr. Pickwick was 
 preparing to follow him, when Sam Weller came up to his master, and 
 whispering in his ear, begged to speak to him, with an air of the deepest 
 mystery. 
 
 " W T ell, Sam/' said Mr. Pickwick, "What's the matter now?" 
 
 " Here's rayther a rum go, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " What ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " This here, Sir," rejoined Sam, " I'm wery much afeerd, Sir, 
 that the properiator o' this here coach is a playin' some imperence 
 vith us." 
 
 " How is that, Sam ? " said Mr. Pickwick ; " aren't the names down 
 on the way-bill?" 
 
 " The names is not only down on the vay-bill, Sir," replied Sam. 
 " but they've painted vun on 'em up, on the door o' the coach." As 
 Sam spoke, he pointed to that part of the coach door on which the pro- 
 prietor's name usually appears ; and there sure enough, in gilt letters of 
 a goodly size, was the magic name of PICKWICK ! 
 
 " Dear me," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, quite staggered by the coin- 
 cidence; " what a very extraordinary thing! " 
 
 " Yes, but that ain't all," said Sam, again directing his master's atten- 
 tion to the coach door ; " not content vith writin' up Pickwick, they 
 puts ' Moses ' afore it, vich I call addin' insult to injury, as the parrot 
 said ven they not only took him from his native land, but made him 
 talk the English langvidge artervards."
 
 THE PICWKICK CLUB. 375 
 
 "It's odd enough certainly, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick; "but if we 
 stand talking; here, we shall lose our places." 
 
 " Wot, ain't nothin' to be done in consequence, Sir ?" exclaimed Sam, 
 perfectly aghast at the coolness with which Mr. Pickwick prepared to 
 ensconce himself inside. 
 
 " Done ! " said Mr. Pickwick. What should be done ? " 
 
 " Ain't nobody to be whopped for takin' this here liberty, Sir?" said 
 Mr. \Veller, who had expected that at least he would have been com- 
 missioned to challenge the guard and coachman to a pugilistic en- 
 counter on the spot. 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Mr. Pickwick eagerly; " not on any account. 
 Jump up to your seat directly." 
 
 " I'm wery much afeerd," muttered Sam to himself, as he turned 
 away, " that somethin' queer's come over the governor, or he'd never 
 ha' stood this so quiet. 1 hope that 'ere trial hasn't broken his spirit, 
 but it looks bad : wery bad." Mr. Weller shook his head gravely ; 
 and it is worthy of remark, as an illustration of the manner in which 
 he took this circumstance to heart, that he did not speak another word 
 until the coach reached the Kensington turnpike, which was so long a 
 time for him to remain taciturn, that the fact may be considered wholly 
 unprecedented. 
 
 Nothing worthy of special mention occurred during the journey. 
 Mr. Dowler related a variety of anecdotes, all illustrative of his own 
 personal prowess and desperation, and appealed to Mrs. Dowler in cor- 
 roboration thereof; when Mrs. Dowler invariably brought in, in the 
 form of an appendix, some remarkable fact or circumstance which Mr. 
 Dowler had forgotten, or had perhaps through modesty omitted, for 
 the addenda in every instance went to show that Mr. Dowler was even 
 a more wonderful fellow than he made himself out to be. Mr. Pick- 
 wick and Mr. Winkle listened with great admiration, and at intervals 
 conversed with Mrs. Dowler, who was a very agreeable and fascinating 
 person. So, what between Mr. Dowler's stories, and Mrs. Dowler's 
 charms, and Mr. Pickwick's good humour, and Mr. Winkle's good list- 
 ening, the insides contrived to be very companionable all the way. 
 
 The outsides did as outsides always do. 'I hey were very cheerful and 
 talkative at the beginning of every stage, and very dismal and sleepy in 
 the middle, and very bright and wakeful again, towards the end. There 
 was one young gentleman in an India-rubber cloak, who smoked cigars 
 all day ; and there was another young gentleman in a parody upon a 
 great coat, who lighted a good many, and feeling obviously unsettled 
 after the second whiff, threw them away when he thought nobody was 
 looking at him. There was a third young man on the box who wished 
 to be learned in cattle, and an old one behind, who was familiar with 
 farming. There was a constant succession of Christian names in 
 smock frocks and white coats, who were i^ited to have a " lift " by the 
 guard, and who knew every horse and hostler on the road and off it ; 
 and there was a dinner which would have been cheap at half-a-crown a 
 mouth, if any moderate number of mouths could have eat it in the time. 
 And at seven o'clock p. M., Mr. Pickwick and his friends, and Mr.
 
 376 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Dowler and his wife, respectively retired to their private sitting-rooms 
 at the White Hart hotel, opposite the great pump room, Bath, where 
 the waiters, from their costume, might be mistaken for Westminster 
 boys, only they destroy the illusion by behaving- themselves so much 
 better. 
 
 Breakfast had scarcely been cleared away on the succeeding- morning-, 
 when a waiter brought in Mr. Dowler's card, with a request to be 
 allowed permission to introduce a friend. Mr. Dowler at once followed 
 tip the delivery of the card, by bringing- himself and the friend also. 
 
 The friend was a charming- young man of not much more than fifty, 
 dressed in a very bright blue coat with resplendent buttons, black trousers, 
 and the thinnest possible pair of highly-polished boots. A gold eye-glass 
 was suspended from his neck by a short broad black ribbon ; a gold snuff- 
 box was lightly clasped in his left hand, gold rings innumerable glittered 
 on his fingers, and a large diamond pin set in gold glistened in his shirt 
 frill. He had a g-old watch, and a gold curb chain with large gold seals ; 
 and he carried a pliant ebony cane with a heavy gold top. His linen 
 was of the very whitest, finest, and stiffest ; his wig- of the glossiest, 
 blackest, and curliest. His snuff was princes' mixture ; his scent bouquet 
 du roi. His features were contracted into a perpetual smile ; and his teeth 
 were in such perfect order that it was difficult at a small distance to tell 
 the real ones from the false. 
 
 "Mr. Pickwick," said Dowler; "my friend, Angelo Cyrus Bantam, 
 Esquire, M. C. Bantam ; Mr. Pickwick. Know each other." 
 
 " Welcome to Ba ath, Sir 1 . This is indeed an acquisition. Most 
 welcome to Ba ath, Sir. It is long .very long-, Mr. Pickwick, since 
 you drank the waters. It appears an age, Mr. Pickwick. Re markable!" 
 
 Such were the expressions with which Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, 
 M. C., took Mr. Pickwick's hand ; retaining it in his meantime, and 
 shrugging up his shoulders with a constant succession of bows, as if he. 
 really could not make up his mind to the trial of letting it go .again. 
 
 " It is a very long time since 1 drank the waters, certainly," replied 
 Mr. Pickwick ; " for to the best of my knowledge, I was never here 
 before." 
 
 "Never in Ba ath, Mr. Pickwick!" exclaimed the Grand Master, 
 etting the hand fall in astonishment. " Never in Ba ath ! He ! he ! 
 Mr. Pickwick, you are a wag-. Not bad, not bad. Good, good. He! he! 
 he! Re markable P 
 
 " To my shame, I must say that I am perfectly serious," rejoined 
 Mr. Pickwick. ' I really never was here, before." 
 
 " Oh, I see," exclaimed the Grand Master, looking extremely pleased ; 
 " Yes, yes good, good better and better. You are the gentleman of 
 whom we have heard. Yes; we know you, Mr. Pickwick; we know 
 you." 
 
 " The reports of the trial ki those confounded papers," thought Mr 
 Pickwick. " They have heard all about me." 
 
 " You are the gentleman residing on Clapham Green," resumed 
 Bantam, " who lost the use of his limbs from imprudently taking cold 
 after port wine who could not be moved in consequence of acute suf-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 377 
 
 fering, and who had the water from the King's Bath bottled at one 
 hundred and three degrees, and sent by waggon to his bed-room in 
 town, where he bathed, sneezed, and same day recovered. Very re- 
 markable !*' 
 
 Mr. Pickwick acknowledged the compliment which the supposition 
 implied, but had the self-denial to repudiate it, notwithstanding ; and 
 taking advantage of a moment's silence on the part of the M. C., begged 
 to introduce his friends, Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snod- 
 grass an introduction which of course overwhelmed the M. C. with 
 delight and honour. 
 
 " Bantam/' said Mr. Dowler, " Mr. Pickwick and his friends are 
 strangers. They must put their names down. Where's the book ?" 
 
 " The register of the distinguished visiters in Ba ath will be at 
 the Pump Room this morning at two o'clock," replied the M. C. 
 " Will you guide our friends to that splendid building, and enable me 
 to procure their autographs ?" 
 
 " I will," rejoined Dowler. " This is a long call. It's time to go 
 I shall be here again in an hour. Come." 
 
 " This is a ball night," said the M. C., again taking Mr. Pickwick's 
 hand, as he rose to go. " The ball-nights in Ba ath are moments 
 snatched from Paradise ; rendered bewitching by music, beauty, ele- 
 gance, fashion, etiquette, and and above all, by the absence of trades- 
 people, who are quite inconsistent with Paradise, and who have an anal- 
 gamation of themselves at the Guildhall every fortnight, which is, to 
 say the least, remarkable. Good bye, good bye !" and protesting all 
 the way down stairs that he was most satisfied, and most delighted, and 
 most overpowered, and most flattered, Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, 
 M.C., stepped into a very elegant chariot that waited at the door, and 
 rattled off. 
 
 At the appointed hour, Mr Pickwick and his friends, escorted by 
 Dowler, repaired to the Assembly Rooms, and wrota their names down 
 in the book an instance of condescension at which Angelo Bantam 
 was even more overpowered than before. Tickets of admission to that 
 evening's assembly were to have been prepared for the whole party, but 
 as they were not ready, Mr. Pickwick undertook, despite all the protes- 
 tations to the contrary of Angelo Bantam, to send Sam for them at 
 four o'clock in the afternoon, to the M. C.'s house in Queen Square. 
 Having taken a short walk through the city, and arrived at the unani- 
 mous conclusion that Park Street was very much like the perpendicular 
 streets a man sees in a dream, which he cannot get up for the life of him, 
 they returned to the W T hite Hart, and dispatched Sam on the errand to 
 which his master had pledged him. 
 
 Sam Weller put on his .hat in a very easy and graceful manner, and 
 thrusting his hands in his waistcoat pockets, walked with great delibe- 
 ration to Queen Square, whistling as he went along, several of the most 
 popular airs of the day, as arranged with entirely new movements for 
 that noble instrument the organ, either mouth or barrel. Arriving at 
 the number in Queen Square to which he had been directed, he left off 
 whistling, and gave a cheerful knock ; which was instantaneously an-
 
 378 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 swered by a powdered-headed footman in gorgeous livery, and symme- 
 trical stature. 
 
 " Is this here Mr. Bantam's, old feller ?" inquired Sam Weller, no- 
 thing abashed by the blaze of splendour which burst upon his sight, in 
 the person of the powdered-headed footman with the gorgeous livery. 
 
 " Why, young man ?" was the haughty inquiry of the powdered- 
 headed footman. 
 
 ' 'Cos if it is, jist you step into him with that 'ere card, and say Mr. 
 Veller's a waitin', will you, six-foot ?" said Sam. And saying it, he very 
 coolly walked into the hall, and sat down. 
 
 The powdered-headed footman slammed the door very hard, and 
 scowled very grandly, but both the slam and the scowl were lost upon 
 Sam, who was regarding a mahogany umbrella stand with every out- 
 ward token of critical approval. 
 
 Apparently his master's reception of the card had impressed the 
 powdered-headed footman in Sam's favour, for when he came back from 
 delivering it, he smiled in a friendly manner, and said that the answer 
 would be ready directly. 
 
 " Wery good," said Sam. " Tell the old gen'lm'n not to put himself 
 in a pesperation. No hurry, six-foot. I've had my dinner." 
 
 " You dine early, Sir," said the powdered-headed footman. 
 
 " I find I gets on better at supper when I does," replied Sam. 
 
 " Have you been long in Bath, Sir ?" inquired the powdered-headed 
 footman. " I have not had the pleasure of hearing of you before." 
 
 " I haven't created any wery surprisin' sensation here yet," rejoined 
 Sam, " for me and the other fash'nables only come, last night." 
 
 " Nice place, Sir," said the powdered-headed footman. 
 
 " Seems so," observed Sam. 
 
 " Pleasant society, Sir," remarked the powdered-headed footman. 
 Very agreeable servants, Sir." 
 
 " I should think they wos," replied Sam. " Affable, unaffected, 
 say-nothin'-to-nobody sort o' fellers." 
 
 " Oh, very much so, indeed, Sir," said the powdered-headed footman, 
 evidently taking Sam's remark as a high compliment. " Very much 
 so indeed. Do you do any thing in this way, sir ?" inquired the tall 
 footman, producing a small snuff-box with a fox's head on the top of it. 
 
 * Not without sneezing," replied Sam. 
 
 Why, it is difficult, Sir, I confess," said the tall footman. " It 
 may be "done by degrees, Sir. Coffee is the best practice. I carried 
 coffee, Sir, for a long time. It looks very like rappee, Sir." 
 
 Here a sharp peal at the bell reduced the powdered-headed foot- 
 man to the ignominious necessity of putting the fox's head in his 
 pocket, and hastening with a humble countenance to Mr. Bantam's 
 " study." By the by, we scarcely ever knew a man who never read 
 or wrote either, who hadn't got some small back parlour which he ivould 
 call a study. 
 
 " There is the answer, Sir," said the powdered-headed footman. 
 " I am afraid you'll find it inconveniently large."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 379 
 
 " Don't mention it," said Sam, taking a letter with a small enclosure. 
 " It's just possible as exhausted natur may manage to surwive it." 
 
 " I hope we shall meet again, Sir," said the powdered-headed foot- 
 man, rubbing his hands, and following Sam out to the door-step. 
 
 " You are wery obligin', Sir," replied Sam. " Now, don't allow 
 yourself to be fatigued beyond your powers, there's a amiable bein'. 
 Consider what you owe to society, and don't let yourself be injured by 
 too much work. For the sake o' your feller creeturs, keep yourself as 
 quiet as you can ; only think what a loss you would be." With these 
 pathetic words, Sam Weller departed. 
 
 " A very singular young man that," said the powdered-headed foot- 
 man, looking after Mr. Weller with a countenance which clearly showed 
 he could make nothing of him. 
 
 Sam said nothing at all. He winked, shook his head, smiled, winked 
 again ; and with an expression of countenance which seemed to de- 
 note that he was greatly amused with something or other, walked mer- 
 rily away. 
 
 At precisely twenty minutes before eight o'clock that night, Angelo 
 Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, the Master of the Ceremonies, emerged from 
 his chariot at the door of the Assembly Rooms in the same wig, the 
 same teeth, the same eye-glass, the same watch and seals, the same 
 rings,' the same shirt-pin, and the same cane. The only observable 
 alterations in his appearance, were, that he wore a brighter blue coat, 
 with a white silk lining, black tights, black silk stockings, and pumps, 
 and a white waistcoat, and was, if possible, just a thought more scented. 
 
 Thus attired, the Master of the Ceremonies, in strict discharge of the 
 important duties of his all-important office, planted himself in the rooms 
 to receive the company. 
 
 Bath being full, the company, and the sixpences for tea, poured in, 
 in shoals. In the ball-room, the long card-room, the octagonal card- 
 room, the staircases, and the passages, the hum of many voices, and 
 the sound of many feet, were perfectly bewildering. Dresses rustled, 
 feathers waved, lights shone, and jewels sparkled. There was the 
 music not of the quadrille band, for it had not yet commenced ; but 
 the music of soft tiny footsteps, with now and then a clear merry 
 laugh low and gentle, but very pleasant to hear in a female voice, whe- 
 ther in Bath or elsewhere. Brilliant eyes, lighted up with pleasurable 
 expectation, gleamed from every side ; and look where you would, some 
 exquisite form glided gracefully through the throng, and was no sooner 
 lost, than it was replaced by another, as dainty and bewitching. 
 
 In the tea-room, and hovering round the card-tables, were a vast 
 number of queer old ladies and decrepid old gentlemen, discussing all 
 the small talk and scandal of the day, with an evident relish and gusto 
 which sufficiently bespoke the intensity of the pleasure they derived 
 from the occupation. Mingled with these groups were three or four 
 matchmaking mammas, appearing to be wholly absorbed by the conver- 
 sation in which they were taking part, but failing not from time to time 
 to cast an anxious sidelong glance upon their daughters, who, remem-
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 bering the maternal injunction to make the best use of their time, had 
 already commenced incipient flirtations in the mislaying scarfs, putting 
 on gloves, setting down cups, and so forth ; slight matters apparently, 
 but which may be turned to surprisingly good account by expert prac- 
 titioners. 
 
 Lounging near the doors, and in remote corners, were various knots 
 of silly young men, displaying every variety of puppyism and stupidity 
 amusing all sensible people near them, with their folly and conceit, and 
 happily thinking themselves the objects of general admiration a wise 
 and merciful dispensation which no good man will quarrel with. 
 
 And lastly, seated on some of the back benches, where they had al- 
 ready taken up their positions for the evening, were divers unmarried 
 ladies past their grand climateric, who, not dancing because there were 
 no partners for them, and not playing cards lest they should be set 
 down as irretrievably single, were in the favourable situation of being 
 able to abuse everybody without reflecting on themselves. In short, 
 they could abuse everybody, because everybody was there. It was a scene 
 of gaiety, glitter, and show ; of richly-dressed people, handsome mir- 
 rors, chalked floors, girandoles, and wax-candles ; and in all parts of the 
 scene, gliding from spot to spot, in silent softness, bowing obsequiously 
 to this party, nodding familiarly to that, and smiling complacently on 
 all, was the sprucely attired person of Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, 
 the Master of the Ceremonies. 
 
 " Stop in the tea-room. Take your sixpenn'orth. They lay on hot 
 water, and call it tea. Drink it," said Mr. Dowler, in a loud voice, di- 
 recting Mr. Pickwick, who advanced at the head of the little party, with 
 Mrs. Dowler on his arm. Into the tea-room Mr. Pickwick turned ; 
 and catching sight of him, Mr. Bantam corkscrewed his way through 
 the crowd, and welcomed him with ecstacy. 
 
 " My dear Sir, I am highly honoured. Ba ath is favoured. Mrs. 
 Dowler, you embellish the rooms. I congratulate you on your fea- 
 thers. Re markable !" 
 
 " Any body here ?" inquired Dowler, suspiciously. 
 
 " Any body ! The elite of Ba atb. Mr. Pickwick, do you see the 
 lady in the gauze turban ?" 
 
 " The fat old lady ?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, innocently. 
 
 " Hush, my dear Sir nobody's fat or old in Ba ath. That's the 
 Dowager Lady Snuphanuph." 
 
 " Is it indeed ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No less a person, I assure you," said the Master of the Ceremonies, 
 " Hush. Draw a little nearer, Mr. Pickwisk. You see the splendidly 
 dressed young man coming this way ?" 
 
 " The one with the long hair, and the particularly small forehead ?" 
 inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 '' The same. The richest young man in Ba ath at this moment. 
 Young Lord Mutanhed." 
 
 " You don't say so ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes. You'll hear his voice in a moment, Mr. Pickwick. He'l.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 381 
 
 speak to me. The other gentleman with him, in the red tinder waist- 
 coat and dark moustache, is the Honourable Mr. Crushton, his bosom 
 friend. How do you do, my Lord ?" 
 
 " Veway hot, Bantam," said his Lordship. 
 
 " It is very warm, my Lord," replied the M. C. 
 
 " Confounded," assented the Honourable Mr. Crushton. 
 
 " Have you seen his Lordship's mail cart, Bantam ?" inquired the 
 Honourable Mr. Crushton, after a short pause, during 1 which young 
 Lord Mutanhed had been endeavouring to stare Mr. Pickwick out of 
 countenance, and Mr. Crushton had been reflecting what subject his Lord- 
 ship could talk about best. 
 
 " Dear me, no," replied the M. C. <c A mail cart ! What an ex- 
 cellent idea. Re markable !" 
 
 " Gwacious Heavens !" said his Lordship, " I thought evewebody 
 had seen the new mail cart ; it's the neatest, pwettiest, gwacefullest 
 thing that ever wan upon wheels painted wed, with a cweam piebald." 
 
 " With a real box for the letters, and all complete," said the Honour- 
 able Mr Crushton. 
 
 " And a little seat in fwont, with an iwon wail, for the dwiver," 
 added his Lordship. " I dwove it over to Bwistol the other morning 
 in a cwimson coat, with two servants widing a quarter of a mile be- 
 hind ; and cwucify me if the people didn't wush out of their cottages, 
 and awest my pwogwess, to know if I wasn't the post. Glorwious, 
 Glorwious !" 
 
 At this anecdote his Lordship laughed very heartily, as did the list- 
 eners, of course. Then drawing his arm through that of the obsequi- 
 ous Mr. Crushton, Lord Mutanhed walked away. 
 
 " Delightful young man, his Lordship," said the Master of the Cere- 
 monies. 
 
 " So I should think," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, drily. 
 
 The dancing having commenced, the necessary introductions having 
 been made, and all preliminaries arranged, Angelo Bantam rejoined 
 Mr. Pickwick, and led him into the card-room. 
 
 Just at the very moment of their entrance, the Dowager Lady 
 Snuphanuph and two other ladies of an ancient and whist-like appear- 
 ance, were hovering over an unoccupied card-table ; and they no sooner 
 set eyes upon Mr. Pickwick under the convoy of Angelo Bantam, than 
 they exchanged glances with each other, seeing that he was precisely 
 the very person they wanted to make up the rubber. 
 
 " My dear Bantam," said the Dowger Lady Snuphanuph, coaxingly, 
 " find us some nice creature to make up this table ; there's a good 
 soul." Mr. Pickwick happened to be looking another way at the mo- 
 ment, so her Ladyship nodded her head towards him, and frowned ex- 
 pressively. 
 
 " My friend Mr. Pickwick, my Lady, will be most happy, I am sure, 
 re markably so," said the M. C., taking the hint. " Mr. Pickwick, 
 Lady Snuphanuph Mrs. Colonel Wugsby Miss Bolo." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick bowed to each of the ladies, and finding escape impos- 
 sible, cut. Mr. Pickwick and Miss Bolo against Lady Snuphanuph and 
 Mrs. Colonel Wugsby.
 
 382 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Just as the trump card was turned up, at the commencement of the 
 second deal, two young ladies hurried into the room, and took their 
 stations on either side of Mrs. Colonel Wugsby 's chair, where they 
 waited patiently until the hand was over. 
 
 ** Now, Jane," said Mrs. Colonel Wugsby, turning to one of the girls, 
 " what is it ?" 
 
 " I came to ask, Ma, whether I might dance with the youngest Mr. 
 Crawley," whispered the prettier and younger of the two. 
 
 " Good God, Jane, how can you think of such things !" replied the 
 mamma, indignantly. " Haven't you repeatedly heard that his father 
 has only eight hundred a-year, which dies with him ? I am ashamed 
 of you. Not on any account." 
 
 " Ma," whispered the other, who was much older than her sister, 
 and very insipid and artificial, " Lord Mutanhed has been introduced 
 to me. I said I thought I wasn't engaged, Ma." 
 
 " You're a sweet pet, my love," replied Mrs. Colonel Wugsby, tap- 
 ping her daughter's cheek with her fan, '' and are always to be trusted. 
 He's immensely rich, my dear. Bless you." With these words, Mrs. 
 Colonel Wugsby kissed her eldest daughter most affectionately, and 
 frowning in a warning manner upon the other, sorted her cards. 
 
 Poor Mr. Pickwick ! he had never played with three thorough-paced 
 female card-players before. They were so desperately sharp that they 
 quite frightened him. If he played a wrong card, Miss Bolo looked a small 
 armoury of daggers ; if he stopped to consider which was the right one, 
 Lady Snuphanuph would throw herself back in her chair, and smile with 
 a mingled glance of impatience and pity to Mrs. Colonel Wugsby, at 
 which Mrs. Colonel Wugsby would shrug up her shoulders, and cough, 
 as much as to say she wondered whether he ever would begin. Then, 
 at the end of every hand, Miss Bolo would inquire with a dismal coun- 
 tenance and reproachful sigh, why Mr. Pickwick had not returned that 
 diamond,'or led the club, or roughed the spade, or finessed the heart, or 
 led through the honour, or brought out the ace, or played up to the 
 king, or some such thing ; and in reply to all these grave charges, Mr. 
 Pickwick would be wholly unable to plead any justification whatever; 
 having by this time forgotten all about the game. People came and 
 looked on, too, which made Mr. Pickwick nervous. Besides all this, 
 there was a great deal of distracting conversation near the table, be- 
 tween Angelo Bantam and the two Miss Matinters, who, being single 
 and singular, paid great court to the Master of the Ceremonies, in the 
 hope of getting a stray partner now and then. All these things, com- 
 bined with the noises and interruptions of constant comings in and 
 goings out, made Mr. Pickwick play rather badly ; the cards were 
 against him, also, and when they left off at ten minutes past eleven, 
 Miss Bolo rose from the table considerably agitated, and went straight 
 home in a flood of tears, and a sedan chair. 
 
 Being joined by his friends, who one and all protested that they had 
 scarcely ever spent a more pleasant evening, Mr. Pickwick accompanied 
 them to the White Hart, and having soothed his feelings with some- 
 thing hot, went to bed, and to sleep, almost simultaneously.

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE CHIEF FEATURES OF WHICH, WILL BE FOUND TO BE AN 
 AUTHENTIC VERSION OF THE LEGEND OF PRINCE BLADUD, AND 
 A MOST EXTRAORDINARY CALAMITY THAT BEFEL MR. WINKLE. 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick contemplated a stay of at least two months in 
 Bath, he deemed it advisable to take private lodgings for himself 
 and friends for that period ; and as a favourable opportunity offered for 
 their securing, on moderate terms, the upper portion of a house in the 
 Royal Crescent, which was larger than they required, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Dowler offered to relieve them of a bed-room and sitting-room. This 
 proposition was at once accepted, and in three days' time they were 
 all located in their new abode, when Mr. Pickwick began to drink the 
 waters with the utmost assiduity. Mr. Pickwick took them systema- 
 tically. He drank a quarter of a pint before breakfast, and then walked 
 tip a hill; and another quarter of a pint after breakfast, and then 
 walked down a hill ; and after every fresh quarter of a pint, Mr. Pick- 
 wick declared, in the most solemn and emphatic terms, that he felt a 
 great deal better, whereat his friends were very much delighted, though 
 they had not been previously aware that there was any thing the 
 matter with him. 
 
 The great pump-room is a spacious saloon, ornamented with Corin- 
 thian pillars, and a music gallery and a Tompion clock, and a statue of 
 Nash, and a golden inscription, to which all the water-drinkers should 
 attend, for it appeals to them in tne cause of a deserving charity. There 
 is a large bar with a marble vase, out of which the pumper gets the water, 
 and a number of yellow-looking tumblers, out of which the company 
 get it ; and it is a most edifying and satisfactory sight to behold the 
 perseverance and gravity with which they swallow it. There are baths 
 near at hand, in which a part of the company wash themselves, and a 
 band plays afterwards, to congratulate the remainder on their having 
 done so. There is another pump-room, into which infirm ladies and 
 gentlemen are wheeled, in such an astonishing variety of chairs and 
 chaises, that any adventurous individual who goes in with the regu- 
 lar number of toes, is in imminent danger of coming out without 
 them ; and there is a third, into which the quiet people go, for it is 
 less noisy than either. There is an immensity of promenading, on 
 crutches and off, with sticks and without : and a great deal of con- 
 versation, and liveliness, and pleasantry. 
 
 Every morning, the regular water-drinkers, Mr. Pickwick among the 
 number, met each other in the pump-room, took their quarter of a pint, 
 and walked constitutionally. At the afternoon's promenade Lord 
 Mutanhed, and the Honourable Mr. Crushton, the Dowager Lady
 
 384 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Sunphanuph, Mrs. Colonel Wugsby, and all the great people, and all the 
 morning water-drinkers, met in grand assemblage. After this, they 
 walked out, or drove out, or were pushed out in bath chairs, and met 
 one another again. After this, the gentlemen went to the reading- 
 rooms and met divisions of the mass. After this, they went home. 
 If it were theatre night, 'perhaps they met at the theatre ; if it were 
 assembly night, they met at the rooms ; and if it were neither, they 
 met the next day a very pleasant routine, with perhaps a slight tinge 
 of sameness. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was sitting up by himself, after a day spent in this 
 manner, making entries in his journal, his friends having retired to 
 bed, when he was roused by a gentle tap at the room door. 
 
 11 Beg your pardon, Sir,'' said Mrs. Craddock, the landlady : peeping 
 in ; " but did you want anything more, Sir ?" 
 
 " Nothing more, Ma'am," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 ' My young girl is gone to bed, Sir;" said Mrs. Craddock, "and 
 Mr. Dowler is good enough to say that he'll sit up for Mrs. Dowler, 
 as the party isn't expected to be over till late ; so I was thinking that 
 if you wanted nothing more, Mr. Pickwick, I would go to bed." 
 
 " By all means, Ma'am," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 J '* Wish you good night, Sir," said Mrs. Craddock. 
 
 " Good night, Ma'am," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Mrs. Craddock closed the door, and Mr. Pickwick resumed his 
 writing. 
 
 In half an hour's time, the entries were concluded. Mr. Pickwick 
 carefully rubbed the last page on the blotting paper, shut up the book, 
 wiped his pen on the bottom of the inside of his coat tail, and opened 
 the drawer of the inkstand to put it carefully away. There were a 
 couple of sheets of writing paper, pretty closely written over, in the 
 inkstand drawer, and they were folded so, that the title, which was in 
 a good round hand, was fully disclosed to him. Seeing from, this, that 
 it was no private document ; and as it seemed to relate to Bath, and 
 was very short, Mr. Pickwick unfolded it, lighted his bed-room candle 
 that it might burn up well by the time he finished; and drawing his 
 chair nearer the fire, read as follows :
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 
 
 ^rue 1egentr of ^prince 23lalmlJ. 
 
 " Less than two hundred years agone, on one of the public baths in 
 this city, there appeared an inscription in honour of its mighty founder, 
 the renowned Prince Bladud. That inscription is now erased. 
 
 " For many hundred years before that time, there had been handed 
 down from age to age, an old legend, that the illustrious Prince being 
 afflicted with leprosy, on his return from reaping a rich harvest of 
 knowledge in ancient Athens, srmnned the court of his royal father, 
 and consorted moodily, with husbandmen and pigs. Among the herd 
 (so said the legend) was a pig of grave and solemn countenance, with 
 whom the Prince had a fellow feeling for he too was wise a pig of 
 thoughtful and reserved demeanour ; an animal superior to his fellows, 
 whose grunt was terrible, and whose bite was sharp ; the young Prince 
 sighed deeply as he looked upon the countenance of the majestic 
 swine ; he thought of his royal father, and his eyes were bedewed 
 with tears. 
 
 " This sagacious pig was fond of bathing in rich, moist mud. Not 
 in summer as common pigs do now, to cool themselves, and did even 
 in those distant ages (which is a proof that the light of civilisation had 
 already begun to dawn, though feebly) but in the cold sharp days of 
 winter. His coat was ever so sleek, and his complexion so clear, that 
 the Prince resolved to essay the purifying qualities of the same water 
 that his friend resorted to. He made the trial. Beneath that black 
 mud, bubbled the hot springs of Bath. He washed, and was cured. 
 Hastening to his father's court, he paid his best respects, and returning 
 quickly hither, founded this city, and its famous baths. 
 
 " He sought the pig with all the ardour of their early friendship 
 but, alas ! the waters had been his death. He had imprudently taken 
 a bath at too high a temperature, and the natural philosopher was no 
 more ! He was succeeded by Pliny, who also fell a victim to his thirst 
 for knowledge. 
 
 " This was the legend. Listen to the true one. 
 " A great many centuries since, there flourished in great state the 
 famous and renowned Lud Hudibras, king of Britain. He was a 
 mighty monarch. The earth shook when he walked, he was so very 
 stout. His people basked in the light of his countenance, it was so 
 red and glowing. He was, indeed, every inch a king. And there 
 were a good many inches of him too, for although he was not very tall, 
 he was a remarkable size round, and the inches that he wanted in 
 height, he made up in circumference. If any degenerate monarch of 
 modern times could be in any way compared with him, I should say 
 the venerable King Cole would be that illustrious potentate. 
 
 " This good king had a queen, who eighteen years before, had had a 
 son, who was called Bladud. He was sent to a preparatory seminary in
 
 386 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 his father's dominions until he was ten years old, and was then dis- 
 patched in charge of a trusty messenger, to a finishing school at 
 Athens ; and as there was no extra charge for remaining during the 
 holidays, and no notice required previous to the removal of a pupil, 
 there he remained for eight long years, at the expiration of which 
 time, the king his father sent the lord chamberlain over, to settle the 
 bill, and to bring him home, which the lord chamberlain doing, was 
 received with shouts, and pensioned immediately. 
 
 " When King Lud saw the Prince his son, and found he had grown 
 up such a fine young man, he perceived at once what a grand thing it 
 would be to have him married without delay, so that his children 
 might be the means of perpetuating the glorious race of Lud down to 
 the very latest ages of the world. With this view, he sent a special 
 embassy, composed of great noblemen who had nothing particular to 
 do, and wanted lucrative employment, to a neighbouring king, and 
 demanded his fair daughter in marriage for his son, stating at the same 
 time that he was anxious to be on the most affectionate terms with his 
 brother and friend, but that if they couldn't agree in ^arranging this 
 marriage, he should be under the unpleasant necessity of invading his 
 kingdom, and putting his eyes out. To this, the other king, (who was 
 the weaker of the two) replied that he was very much obliged to his 
 friend and brother for all his goodness and magnanimity, and that his 
 daughter was quite ready to be married, whenever Prince Bladud liked 
 to come and fetch her. 
 
 " This answer no sooner reached Britain, than the whole nation were 
 transported with joy. Nothing was heard on all sides but the sounds of 
 feasting and revelry, except the chinking of money as it was paid in by 
 the people to the collector of the Royal Treasures, to defray the expenses 
 of the happy ceremony. It was upon this occasion that King Lud 
 seated on the top of his throne in full council, rose in the exuberance 
 of his feelings, and commanded the lord chief justice to order in the 
 richest wines and the court minstrels: an act of graciousness which 
 has been, through the ignorance of traditionary historians, attributed to 
 King Cole, in those celebrated lines in which his majesty is repre- 
 sented as 
 
 Calling for his pipe, and calling for his pot, 
 
 And calling for his fiddlers three. 
 
 Which is an obvious injustice to the memory of King Lud, and a dis- 
 honest exaltation of the virtues of King Cole. 
 
 " But in the midst of all this festivity and rejoicing, there wns one 
 individual present, who tasted not when the sparkling wines were poured 
 forth, and who danced not when the minstrels played. This was no 
 other than Prince Bladud himself, in honour of whose happiness a 
 whole people were at that very moment, straining alike their throats 
 and purse-strings. The truth was, that the Prince, forgetting the 
 undoubted right of the minister for foreign affairs to fall in love on his 
 behalf, had, contrary to every precedent of policy and diplomacy, 
 already fallen in love on his own account, and privately contracted 
 himself unto the fair daughter of a noble Athenian.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 387 
 
 " Here we have a striking example of one of the manifold advantages 
 of civilisation and refinement. If the Prince had lived in later days, he 
 might at once have married the object of his father's choice, and then 
 set himself seriously to work, to relieve himself of the burden which 
 rested heavily upon him. He might have endeavoured to break her 
 heart by a systematic course of insult and neglect ; or, if the spirit of 
 her sex, and a proud consciousness of her many wrongs had upheld her 
 under this ill treatment, he might have sought to take her life, and 
 so get rid of her effectually. But neither mode of relief suggested 
 itself to Prince Bladud so he solicited a private audience, and told his 
 father. 
 
 " It is an old prerogative of kings to govern everything but their 
 passions. King Lud flew into a frightful rage, tossed his crown up to 
 the ceiling, and caught it again for in those days kings kept their 
 crowns on their heads, and not in the Tower stamped the ground, 
 rapped his forehead, wondered why his own flesh and blood rebelled 
 against him, and, finally, calling in his guards, ordered the Prince away 
 to instant confinement in a lofty turret a course of treatment which 
 the kings of old very generally pursued towards their sons when their 
 matrimonial inclinations did not happen to point to the same quar- 
 ter as their own. 
 
 " When Prince Bladud had been shut up in the lofty turret for the 
 greater part of a year, with no better prospect before his bodily eyes 
 than a stone wall, or before his mental vision than prolonged imprison- 
 ment, he naturally began to ruminate on a plan of escape, which after 
 months of preparation he managed to accomplish ; considerately leaving 
 his dinner knife in the heart of his gaoler, lest the poor fellow (who 
 had a family) should be considered privy to his flight, and punished 
 accordingly by the infuriated king. 
 
 " The monarch was frantic at the loss of his son. He knew not 
 on whom to vent his grief and wrath, until fortunately bethinking 
 himself of the Lord Chamberlain who had brought him home, he struck 
 off his pension and his head together. 
 
 " Meanwhile, the young Prince effectually disguised, wandered on 
 foot through his father's dominions, cheered and supported in all his 
 hardships by sweet thoughts of the Athenian maid, who was the inno- 
 cent cause of his weary trials. One day he stopped to rest in a country 
 village ; and seeing that there were gay dances going forward on the 
 green, and gay faces passing to and fro, ventured to inquire of a reveller 
 who stood near him, the reason for this rejoicing. 
 
 " ' Know you not, O stranger,' was the reply, ' of the recent procla- 
 mation of our gracious king ? ' 
 
 " ' Proclamation ! No. What proclamation ? ' rejoined the Prince 
 for he had travelled along the bye and little-frequented ways, and 
 knew nothing of what had passed upon the public roads, such as they 
 were. 
 
 " ' Why, ' replied the peasant, ' the foreign lady that our Prince 
 wished to wed, is married to a foreign noble of her own country; and 
 the king proclaims the fact, and a great public festival besides ; for now,
 
 388 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 of course, Prince Bladud will come back and marry the lady his father 
 chose, who they say is as beautiful as the noon-day sun. Your 
 health, Sir. God save the King.' 
 
 " The Prince remained to hear no more. He fled from the spot, 
 and plunged into the thickest recesses of a neighbouring wood. On, 
 on he wandered, night and day, beneath the blazing sun, and the cold 
 pale moon ; through the dry heat of noon, and the damp cold of night; 
 in the grey light of morn, and the red glare of eve. So heedless was 
 he of time or object, that being bound for Athens, he wandered as far 
 out of his way as Bath. 
 
 " There was no city where Bath stands, then. There was no vestige 
 of human habitation, or sign of man's resort, to bear the name ; but 
 there was the same noble country, the same broad expanse of hill and 
 dale, the same beautiful channel stealing on, far away ; the same lofty 
 mountains which, like the troubles of life, viewed at a distance, and 
 partially obscured by the bright mist of its morning, lose their rugged- 
 ness and asperity, and seem all ease and softness. Moved by the gentle 
 heauty of the scene, the Prince sank upon the green turf, and bathed 
 his swollen feet in his tears. 
 
 " * Oh !' said the unhappy Bladud, clasping his hands, and mourn- 
 fully raising his eyes towards the sky, ' would that my wanderings 
 might end here ; would that these grateful tears with which I now 
 mourn hope misplaced, and love despised, might flow in peace for 
 ever !' 
 
 " The wish was heard. It was in the time of the heathen deities, 
 who used occasionally to take people at their words, with a promptness, 
 in some cases extremely awkward. The ground opened beneath the 
 Prince's feet ; he sunk into the chasm, and instantaneously it closed 
 upon his head for ever, save where his hot tears welled up through 
 the earth, and where they have continued to gush forth ever since. 
 
 " It is observable that, to this day, large numbers of elderly, ladies and 
 gentlemen who hare been disappointed in procuring partners, and al- 
 most as many young ones who are anxious to obtain them, repair an- 
 nually to Bath to drink the waters, from which they derive much 
 strength and comfort. This is most complimentary to the virtue of 
 Prince Bladud's tears, and strongly corroborative of the veracity of this 
 legend."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 389 
 
 Mr Pickwick yawned several times when he had arrived at the end 
 of this little manuscript, carefully refolded, and replaced it in the ink- 
 stand drawer, and then, with a countenance expressive of the utmost 
 weariness, lighted his chamber candle, and went up stairs to bed. 
 
 He stopped at Mr. Bowler's door, according to custom, and knocked, 
 to say, good night. 
 
 " Ah !" said Dowler, " going to bed ? IwishI was. Dismal night 
 Windy ; isn't it ?" 
 
 tc Very," said Mr. Pickwick. " Good night." 
 
 " Good night." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick went to his bedchamber, and Mr. Dowler resumed his 
 seat before the fire, in fulfilment of his rash promise to sit up till his 
 wife came home. 
 
 There are few things more worrying than sitting up for somebody, 
 especially if that somebody be at a party. You cannot help thinking 
 how quickly the time passes with them, which drags so heavily with 
 you ; and the more you think of this, the more your hopes of their 
 speedy arrival decline. Clocks tick so loud, too, when you are sitting 
 up alone, and you seem at least we always do as if you had got an 
 under garment of cobwebs on. First, something tickles your right 
 knee, and then the same sensation irritates your left. You have no 
 sooner changed your position, than it comes again in the arms ; and 
 when you have fidgeted your limbs into all sorts of queer shapes, you 
 have a sudden relapse in the nose, which you rub as if to rub it off as 
 there is no doubt you would, if you could. Eyes, too, are mere per- 
 sonal inconveniences, and the wick of one candle gets an inch and a 
 half long, while you are snuffing the other. These, and various other 
 little nervous annoyances, render sitting up for a length of time after 
 every body else has gone to bed, any thing but a cheerful amusement. 
 
 This was just Mr. Dovvler's opinion, as he sat before the fire, and 
 felt honestly indignant with all the inhuman people at the party, who 
 were keeping him up. He was not put into better humour either, by 
 the reflection that he had taken it into his head, early in the evening, 
 to think he had got an ache there, and so stopped at home. At length, 
 after several droppings asleep, and fallings forward towards the bars, 
 and catchings backward soon enough to prevent being branded in -the 
 face, Mr. Dowler made up his mind that he would just throw himself 
 on the bed in the back-room and think not sleep, of course. 
 
 " I'm a heavy sleeper," said Mr. Dowler, as he flung himself on the 
 bed. ' I must keep awake ; I suppose I shall hear a knock here. 
 Yes. I thought so. I can hear the watchman. There he goes. 
 Fainter now though. A little fainter. He's turning the corner. 
 Ah ! " When Mr. Dowler arrived at this point, he turned the corner 
 at which he had been so long hesitating, and fell fast asleep. 
 
 Just as the clock struck three, there were blown into the crescent a 
 sedan-chair, with Mrs. Dowler inside, borne by one short fat chairman, 
 and one long thin one, who had had much ado all the way to keep their 
 bodies perpendicular, to say nothing of the chair ; but on that high 
 ground, and in the crescent, which the wind swept round and round as 
 F F 2
 
 390 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 if it were going- to tear the paving stones up, its fury was tremendous. 
 They were very glad to set the chair down, and give a good round 
 loud double-knock at the street door. 
 
 They waited some time, hut nobody came. 
 
 " Servants is in the arms o' Porpus, I think," said the short chair- 
 man, warming his hands at the attendant linkboy's torch. 
 
 " I wish he'd give 'em a squeeze and wake 'em," observed the long 
 one. 
 
 "Knock again, will you, if you please?" cried Mrs. Dowler from the 
 chair. " Knock two or three times, if you please." 
 
 The short man was quite willing to get the job over, as soon as 
 possible ; so he stood on the step, and gave four or five most startling 1 
 double knocks, of eight or ten knocks a piece, while the long man went 
 into the road, and looked up at the windows for a light. 
 
 Nobody came. It was all as silent and as dark as ever. 
 
 <c Dear me ! " said Mrs. Dowler. " You must knock again, if you 
 please." 
 
 " Their ain't a bell, is there, Ma'am? " said the short chairman. 
 
 " Yes, there is," interposed the link-boy, " I've been a ringing at it 
 ever so long." 
 
 "It's only a handle," said Mrs. Dowler, "the wire's broken." 
 
 *' I wish the servant's heads wos," growled the long man. 
 
 " I must trouble you to knock again, if you please," said Mrs. Dow- 
 ler with the utmost politeness. 
 
 The short man did knock again several times, without producing the 
 smallest effect. The tall man, growing very impatient, then relieved 
 him, and kept on perpetually knocking double-knocks of two loud 
 knocks each, like an insane postman. 
 
 At length Mr. Winkle began to dream that he was at a club, and 
 that the members being very refractory, the chairman was obliged to 
 hammer the table a good deal to preserve order ; then he had a con- 
 fused notion of an auction room where there were no bidders, and the 
 auctioneer was buying everything in ; and ultimately he began to 
 think it just within the bounds of possibility that somebody might be 
 knocking at the street door. To make quite certain, however, he re- 
 mained quiet in bed for ten minutes or so, and listened; and when he 
 had counted two or three and thirty knocks, he felt quite satisfied, and 
 gave himself a great deal of credit for being so wakeful. 
 
 " Rap rap rap rap rap rap ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, rap," went the knocker. 
 
 Mr. Winkle jumped out of bed, wondering very much what could 
 possibly be the matter, and hastily putting on his stockings and slippers, 
 folded his dressing gown round him, lighted a flat candle from the rush- 
 light that was burning in the fire-place, and hurried down stairs. 
 
 " Here's somebody comin' at last, Ma'am," said the short chairman. 
 
 I wish I wos behind him vith a bradawl," muttered the long one. 
 
 "Who's there?" cried Mr. Winkle, undoing the chain. 
 
 *' Don't stop to ask questions, cast-iron head," replied the long man, 
 with great disgust ; taking it for granted that the inquirer was a foot- 
 man ; " open the door."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 391 
 
 " Come, look sharp, timber eye-lids/' added the other, encouragingly. 
 
 Mr. Winkle, being half asleep, obeyed the command mechanically, 
 opened the door a little, and peeped out. The first thing- he saw was 
 the red glare of the link-boy's torch. Startled by the sudden fear that 
 the house might be on fire, he hastily threw the door wide open, and 
 holding the candle above his head, stared eagerly before him, not quite 
 certain whether what he saw was a sedan chair or a fire engine. At 
 this instant there came a violent gust of wind : the light was blown 
 out ; Mr. Winkle felt himself irresistibly impelled on to the steps, and 
 the door blew to, with a loud crash. 
 
 " Well, young man, now you have done it," /said the short chairman. 
 
 Mr. Winkle, catching sight of a lady's face at the window of the 
 sedan, turned hastily round, plied the knocker with all his might and 
 main, and called frantically upon the chairman to take the chair away 
 again. 
 
 " Take it away, take it away," cried Mr. Winkle. " Here's some- 
 body coming out of another house ; put me into the chair. Hide me 
 do something with me." 
 
 All this time he was shivering with cold, and every time he raised 
 his hand to the knocker the wind took the dressing gown in a most 
 unpleasant manner. 
 
 " The people are coming down the Crescent now. There are ladies 
 with 'em ; cover me up with something. Stand before me," roared 
 Mr. Winkle. But the chairmen were too much exhausted with laugh- 
 ing to afford him the slightest assistance, and the ladies were every 
 moment approaching- nearer and nearer. 
 
 Mr. Winkle gave a last hopeless knock ; the ladies were only a few- 
 doors off. He threw away the extinguished candle which all this time 
 he had held above his head, and fairly bolted into the sedan chair where 
 Mrs. Dowler was. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Craddock had heard the knocking and the voices at last; 
 and, just waiting to put something smarter on her head than her night- 
 cap, ran down into the front drawing-room to make sure that it was the 
 right party, and threw up the window-sash just as Mr. Winkle was 
 rushing into the chair ; she no sooner caught sight of what was going 
 forward below, than she raised a vehement and dismal shriek, and im- 
 plored Mr. Dowler to get up directly, for his wife was running away 
 with another gentleman. 
 
 Upon this, Mr. Dowler bounced off the bed as abruptly as an India- 
 rubber ball, and rushing into the front room, arrived at one window just 
 as Mr. Pickwick threw up the other, when the first object that met the 
 gaze of both, was Mr. Winkle bolting into the sedan-chair. 
 
 "Watchman," shouted Dowler furiously; "stop him hold him 
 keep him tight shut him in, till I come down. I'll cut his throat 
 give me a knife from ear to ear, Mrs. Craddock. I will ! " And, 
 breaking from the shrieking landlady, and from Mr. Pickwick, the in- 
 dignant husband seized a small supper-knife, and tore into the street. 
 
 But Mr. Winkle didn't wait for him. He no sooner heard the hor-
 
 392 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 rible threat of the valorous Dowler, than he hounced out of the sedan 
 quite as quickly as he had bounced in, and throwing off his slippers into 
 the road, took to his heels and tore round the Crescent, hotly pursued 
 by Dowler and the watchman. He kept ahead ; the door was open as 
 he came round the second time, he rushed in, slammed it in Bowler's 
 face, mounted to his bed-room, locked the door, piled a wash-hand-stand , 
 chest of drawers and table against it, and packed up a few necessaries 
 ready for flight with the first light of morning. 
 
 Dowler came up to the outside of the door, avowed, through the 
 key-hole, his stedfast determination of cutting Mr. Winkle's throat 
 next day ; and, after a great confusion of voices in the drawing-room, 
 amidst which that of Mr. Pickwick was distinctly heard endeavouring 
 to make peace, the inmates dispersed to their several bed-chambers, and 
 all was quiet once more. 
 
 It is not unlikely that the inquiry may be made, where Mr. 
 Weller, was, all this time ? We will state where he was, in the next 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 HONOURABLY ACCOUNTS FOR MR. WELLER's ABSENCE, BY DESCRIB- 
 ING A SOIREE TO WHICH HE WAS INVITED AND WENT. ALSO 
 RELATES HOW HE WAS ENTRUSTED BY MR. PICKWICK WITH A 
 PRIVATE MISSION OF DELICACY AND IMPORTANCE. 
 
 ft Mr. Weller," said Mrs. Craddock, upon the morning of this very 
 eventful day, " here's a letter for you." 
 
 " Wery odd that," said Sam," I'm afeerd there must be somethin' the 
 matter, for I don't recollect any gen'lm'n in my circle of acquaintance 
 as is capable o' writin' one." 
 
 ' Perhaps something uncommon has taken place," observed Mrs. 
 Craddock. 
 
 " It must be somethin' wery uncommon indeed, as could perduce a 
 letter out o' any friend o' mine," replied Sam, shaking his head dubiously; 
 nothin* less than a nat'ral conwulsion, as the young gen'lm'n observed 
 ven he wos took with fits. It can't be from the gov'ner," said Sam, 
 looking at the direction. " He always prints, I know, 'cos he learnt 
 writin' from the large bills in the bookin' offices. It's a wery strange 
 thing now, where this here letter can ha' come from." 
 
 As Sam said this, he did what a great m'any people do when they are 
 uncertain about the writer of a note, looked at.the seal, and then at the 
 front, and then at the back, and then at the* sides, and then at the 
 superscription ; and, as a last resource, thought perhaps he might as 
 well look at the inside, and try to find out from that.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 3y3 
 
 " It's wrote on gilt-edged paper," said Sam, as be unfolded it, " and 
 sealed in bronze vax vith the top of a door-key. Now for it." And, 
 with a very grave face, Mr. Weller slowly read as follows : 
 
 " A select company of the Bath footmen presents their compliments 
 to Mr. Weller, and requests the pleasure of his company this evening 1 , 
 to a friendly swarry, consisting of a boiled leg of mutton with the usual 
 trimmings. The swarry to be on table at half past nine o'clock punc- 
 tually." 
 
 This was inclosed in another note, which ran thus 
 " Mr. John Smauker, the gentleman who had the pleasure of meeting 
 Mr. Weller at the house of their mutual acquaintance, Mr. Bantam, a 
 few days since, begs to inclose Mr. Weller the herewith invitation. If 
 Mr. Weller will call on Mr. John Smauker at nine o'clock, Mr. John 
 Smauker will have the pleasure of introducing Mr. Weller. 
 
 (Signed) " JOHN SMAUKER." 
 
 The envelope was directed to blank Weller, Esq., at Mr. Pickwick's; 
 and in a parenthesis, in the left hand corner, were the words " airy bell," 
 as an instruction to the bearer. 
 
 " Veil," said Sam, " this is comin* it rayther powerful, this is. I 
 never heard a biled leg o' mutton called a swarry afore. I wonder wot 
 they'd call a roast one." 
 
 However, without waiting to debate the point, Sam at once betook 
 himself into the presence of Mr. Pickwick, and requested leave of ab- 
 sence for that evening, which was readily granted. With this permis- 
 sion, and the street-door key, Sam Weller issued forth a little before the 
 appointed time, and strolled leisurely towards Queen Square, which he 
 no sooner gained than he had the satisfaction of beholding Mr. John 
 Smauker leaning his powdered head against a lamp post at a short dis- 
 tance off, smoking a cigar through an amber tube. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Weller ?" said Mr. John Smauker, raising his 
 hat gracefully with one hand, while he gently waved the other in a con- 
 descending manner. "How do you do, Sir?" 
 
 " Why, reasonably conwalessent," replied Sam. " How do you find 
 yourself, my dear feller ?" 
 
 " Only so so," said Mr. John Smauker. 
 
 " Ah, you've been a workin' too hard," observed Sam. " I was fear- 
 ful you would ; it won't do, you know ; you must not give way to that 
 'ere uncompromisin' spirit o' your'n." 
 
 " It's not so much that, Mr. Weller," replied Mr. John Smauker, 
 " as, bad wine ; I'm afraid I've been dissipating." 
 
 " Oh ! that's it, is it ?" said Sam ; " that's a wery bad complaint, that." 
 
 ' And yet the temptation, you see, Mr. Weller," observed Mr. John 
 Smauker. 
 
 " Ah, to be sure," saidSam. , 
 
 " Plunged into the very vortex of society, you know, Mr.^Weller/ 
 said Mr. John Smauker with a sigh.
 
 394 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Dreadful indeed !" rejoined Sam. 
 
 " But it's always the way," said Mr. John Smauker ; " if your destiny 
 leads you into public life, and public station, you must expect to be 
 subjected to temptations which other people is free from, Mr. Weller." 
 
 " Precisely what my uncle said, ven lie vent into the public line," re- 
 marked Sam, " and wery right the old gen'lm'n wos, for he drank his- 
 self to death in somethin' less than a quarter." 
 
 Mr. John Smauker looked deeply indignant at any parallel being 
 drawn between himself and the deceased gentleman in question ; but as 
 Sam's face was in the most immoveable state of calmness, he thought 
 better of it, and looked affable again. 
 
 " Perhaps we had better be walking," said Mr. Smauker, consulting 
 a copper time-piece which dwelt at the bottom of a deep watch-pocket, 
 and was raised to the surface by means of a black string, with a copper 
 key at the other end. 
 
 " P'raps ve had," replied Sam, " or they'll overdo the swarry, and 
 that'll spile it." 
 
 " Have you drank the waters, Mr Weller ?" inquired his companion, 
 as they walked towards High Street. 
 
 " Once," replied Sam. 
 
 " What did you think of 'em, Sir ?" 
 
 " I thought they wos particklery unpleasant," replied Sam. 
 
 " Ah," said Mr. John Smauker, " you disliked the killibeate taste, 
 perhaps ?" 
 
 " I don't know much about that 'ere," said Sam. " I thought they'd 
 a wery strong flavour o' warm flat irons." 
 
 " That is the killibeate, Mr. Weller," observed Mr. John Smauker, 
 contemptuously. 
 
 " Well, if it is, it's a wery inexpressive word, that's all," said Sam. 
 " It may be, but I ain't much in the chimical line myself, so I can't 
 say." And here, to the great horror of Mr. John Smauker, Sam Weller 
 began to whistle. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Weller," said Mr. John Smauker, agonized 
 at the exceedingly ungenteel sound. " Will you take my arm ?" 
 
 " Thankee, you're wery good, but I won't deprive you of it," replied 
 Sam. " I've rayther a way o' puttin' my hands in my pockets, if it's 
 all the same to you." As Sam said this, he suited the action to the 
 word, and whistled far louder than before. 
 
 " This way," said his new friend, apparently much relieved as they 
 turned down a bye street ; " we shall soon be there." 
 
 " Shall we ?" said Sam, quite unmoved by the announcement of his 
 close vicinity to the select footmen of Bath. 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. John Smauker. " Don't be alarmed, Mr. Weller." 
 
 <f Oh no," said Sam. 
 
 " You'll see some very handsome uniforms, Mr. Weller,'' continued 
 Mr. John Smauker ; " and perhaps you'll find some of the gentlemen 
 rather high at first, you know, but they'll soon come round." 
 
 " That's wery kind on 'em," replied Sam.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. ' 395 
 
 " And you know," resumed Mr. John Smauker, with an air of sublime 
 protection ; " you know, as you're a stranger, perhaps they'll be rather 
 hard upon you at first." 
 
 " They won't be wery cruel, though, will they ?" inquired Sam. 
 
 " No, no," replied Mr. John Smanker, pulling forth the fox's head, 
 and taking a gentlemanly pinch. " There are some funny dogs among 
 us, and they will have their joke, you know ; but you mustn't mind 
 'em, you mustn't mind 'em." 
 
 " I'll try and bear up agin such a reg'lar knock down o' talent," re- 
 plied Sam. 
 
 ' : That's right," said Mr. John Smauker, putting up the fox's head, 
 and elevating his own ; " I'll stand by you." 
 
 By this time they had reached a small greengrocer's shop, which 
 Mr. John Smauker entered, followed by Sam, who, the moment he got 
 behind him, relapsed into a series of the very broadest and most unmi- 
 tigated grins, and manifested other demonstrations of being in a highly 
 enviable state of inward merriment. 
 
 Crossing the greengrocer's shop, and putting their hats on the 
 stairs in the little passage behind it, they walked into a small parlour; 
 and here the full splendour of the scene burst upon Mr. Weller's 
 view. 
 
 A couple of tables were put together in the middle of the parlour, 
 covered with three or four cloths of different ages and dates of washing, 
 arranged to look as much like one as the circumstances of the case 
 would allow. Upon these, were laid knives and forks for six or eight 
 people. Some of the knife handles were green, others red, and a few 
 more yellow ; and as all the forks were black, the combination of colours 
 was exceedingly striking. Plates for a corresponding number of guests 
 were warming behind the fender ; and the guests themselves were warm- 
 ing before it, the chief and most important of whom appeared to be a 
 stoutish gentleman in a bright crimson coat with long tails, vividly red 
 breeches, and a cocked hat, who was standing with his back to the fire, 
 and had apparently just entered, for besides retaining his cocked hat on 
 his head, he carried in his hand a high stick, such as gentlemen of his 
 profession usually elevate in a sloping position over the roofs of car- 
 riages. 
 
 " Smauker, my lad your fin/' said the gentleman with the cocked 
 hat. 
 
 Mr. Smauker dovetailed the top joint of his right hand little finger 
 into that of the gentleman with the cocked hat, and said he was charmed 
 to see him looking so well. 
 
 " Well, they tell me I am looking pretty blooming," said the man 
 with the cocked hat, " and it's a wonder, too. I've been following our old 
 woman about, two hours a-day for the last fortnight, and if a constant 
 contemplation of the manner in which she hooks-and-eyes that infernal 
 lavender-coloured old gown of her's behind, isn't enough to throw any 
 body into a low state of despondency for life, stop my quarter's salary." 
 
 At this, the assembled selections laughed very heartily ; and one gen-
 
 Uyb POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 tleman in a yellow waistcoat, with a coach trimming- border, whispered 
 a neighbour in green foil smalls, that Tuckle was in spirits to-night. 
 
 " By the by," said Mr. Tuckle, " Smauker, my boy, you" 
 
 The remainder of the sentence was forwarded into Mr. John Smauker' s 
 ear, by whisper. 
 
 " Oh, dear me, I quite forgot," said Mr. John Smauker. " Gentle- 
 men, my friend Mr. Weller." 
 
 " Sorry to keep the fire off you, Weller," said Mr. Tuckle, with a 
 familiar nod. " Hope you're not cold, Weller." 
 
 " Not by no means, blazes," replied Sam. " It 'ud be a wery chilly 
 subject as felt cold ven you stood opposit. You'd save coals if they 
 put you behind the fender in the vatin' room at a public office, you 
 would." 
 
 As this retort appeared to convey rather a personal allusion to Mr. 
 Tuckle's crimson livery, that gentleman looked majestic for a few se- 
 conds, but gradually edging away from the fire, broke into a forced 
 smile, and said it wasn't bad. 
 
 " Wery much obliged for your good opinion, Sir," replied Sam. " We 
 shall get on by degrees, I des-say. We'll try a better one, by 
 and by." 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a 
 gentleman in orange-coloured plush, accompanied by another selection 
 in purple cloth, with a great extent of stocking. The new comers 
 having been welcomed by the old ones, Mr. Tuckle put the question 
 that supper be ordered in, which was carried unanimously. 
 
 The greengrocer and his wife then arranged upon the table a boiled 
 leg of mutton, hot, with caper sauce, turnips, and potatoes. Mr. Tuckle 
 took the chair, and was supported at the other end of the board by the 
 gentleman in orange plush. The greengrocer put on a pair of wash- 
 leather gloves to hand the plates with, and stationed himself behind 
 Mr. Tuckle's chair. 
 
 " Harris," said Mr. Tuckle, in a commanding tone. 
 
 " Sir," said the greengrocer. 
 
 " Have you got your gloves on ?" 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 " Then take the kiver off." 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 The greengrocer did as he was told, with a show of great humility, 
 and obsequiously handed Mr. Tuckle the carving knife ; in doing which, 
 he accidentally gaped. 
 
 " What do you mean by that, Sir ?" said Mr. Tuckle, with great 
 asperity. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir," replied the crest-fallen greengrocer, " I 
 didn't mean to do it, Sir ; I was up very late last night, Sir." 
 
 " I tell you what my opinion of you is, Harris," said Mr. Tuckle, 
 with a most impressive air, " you're a wulgar beast." 
 
 " I hope, gentlemen," said Harris, " that you won't be severe with 
 me, gentlemen. I'm very much obliged to you indeed, gentlemen, for
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 397 
 
 your patronage, and also for your recommendations, gentlemen, when- 
 ever additional assistance in waiting is required. I hope, gentlemen, I 
 give satisfaction." 
 
 " No, you don't, Sir," said Mr. Tuckle. " Very far from it, Sir." 
 
 " We consider you an inattentive reskel," said the gentleman in the 
 orange plush. 
 
 " And a low thief," added the gentleman in the green-foil smalls. 
 
 " And an unreclaimable blaygaird," added the gentleman in purple. 
 
 The poor greengrocer bowed very humbly while these little epithets 
 were bestowed upon him, in the true spirit of the very smallest tyranny ; 
 and when every body had said something to show his superiority, Mr. 
 Tuckle proceeded to carve the leg of mutton, and to help the company. 
 
 This important business of the evening had hardly commenced, when 
 the door was thrown briskly open, and another gentleman in a light-blue 
 suit, and leaden buttons, made his appearance. 
 
 Against the rules," said Mr. Tuckle. " Too late, too late." 
 
 " No, no ; positively I couldn't help it," said the gentleman in blue. 
 " I appeal to the company an aifair of gallantry now an appintment 
 at the theayter." 
 
 " Oh, that indeed," said the gentleman in the orange plush. 
 
 " Yes ; raly now, honour bright," said the man in blue. " I made 
 a promese to fetch our youngest daughter at half-past ten, and she is 
 such an uncauminly fine gal, that I raly hadn't the art to disappint her. 
 No offence to the present company, Sir, but a petticut, Sir, a petti- 
 cut, Sir, is irrevokeable." 
 
 " I begin to suspect there's something in that quarter," said Tuckle, 
 as the new comer took his seat next Sam. " I've remarked once or 
 twice, that she leans very heavy on your shoulder when she gets in and 
 out of the carriage." 
 
 " Oh raly, raly, Tuckle, you shouldn't," said the man in blue. " It's 
 not fair. I may have said to one or two friends that she was a very 
 divine creechure, and had refused one or two offers without any hobvus 
 cause, but no, no, no, indeed, Tuckle before strangers, too< it's not 
 right you shouldn't. Delicacy, my dear friend, delicacy." And the 
 man in blue, pulling up his neckerchief, and adjusting his coat cuffs, 
 nodded and frowned as if there were more behind which he could say if 
 he liked, but was bound in honour to suppress. 
 
 The man in blue being a light-haired, stiff-necked, free and easy 
 sort of footman, with a swaggering air and pert face, had attracted Mr. 
 Weller's especial attention at first, but when he began to come out in 
 this way, Sam felt more than ever disposed to cultivate his acquaintance ; 
 so he launched himself into the conversation at once, with characteristic 
 independence. 
 
 " Your health, Sir," said Sam. " I like your conwersation much. 
 Ithink it's wery pretty." 
 
 At this the man in blue smiled as if it were a compliment he was well 
 used to ; but looked approvingly on Sam at the same time, and said he 
 hoped he should be better acquainted with him, for without any flattery
 
 398 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 at all he seemed to have the makings of a very nice fellow about him 
 just the man after his own heart. 
 
 " You're wery good, Sir," said Sam. " What a lucky feller you 
 are." 
 
 " How do you mean ?" inquired the gentleman in blue. 
 
 " That 'ere young lady," replied Sam. " She knows wot's wot, 
 she does. Ah, I see." Mr. Weller closed one eye, and shook his 
 head from side to side in a manner which was highly gratifying to the 
 personal vanity of the gentleman in blue. 
 
 " I'm afraid you're a cunning fellow, Mr. Weller," said that indi- 
 dual. 
 
 " No, no," said Sam. " I leave all that 'ere to you. It's a great 
 deal more in your way than mine, as the gen'lm'n on the right 
 side o' the garden vajl said to the man on the wrong 'un, ven the mad 
 hull wos a cumin' up the lane. " 
 
 " Well, well, Mr. Weller," said the gentleman in blue, " I think she 
 has remarked my air and manner, Mr. Weller." 
 
 " I should think she couldn't wery well be offo' that," said Sam. 
 
 " Have you any little thing of that kind in hand, Sir ?" inquired 
 the favoured gentleman in blue, drawing a toothpick from his 
 waistcoat pocket. 
 
 " Not exactly," said Sam. " There's no daughters at my place, else 
 o' course I should ha' made up to vun on 'em. As it is, I don't think 
 I can do vith any thin' under a female markis. I might take up with 
 a young ooman o' large property as hadn't a title, if she made wery fierce 
 love to me not else." 
 
 " Of course not, Mr. Weller," said the gentleman in blue, " one can't 
 be troubled, you know ; and we know, Mr. Weller we, who are men of 
 the world that a good uniform must work its way with the women, 
 sooner or later. In fact, that's the only thing, between you and I, that 
 makes the service worth entering into." 
 
 " Just so," said Sam. "That's it, o' couse." 
 
 When this confidential dialogue had gone thus far, glasses were 
 placed round, and every gentleman ordered what he liked best, before 
 the public house shut up. The gentleman in blue and the man in 
 orange, who were the chief exquisites of the party, ordered " cold srub and 
 water," hut with the others, gin and water sweet, appeared to be the 
 favourite beverage. Sam called the green grocer a " desp'rate willin," 
 and ordered a large bowl of punch two circumstances which seemed to 
 raise him very much, in the opinion of the selections. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the man in blue, with an air of the most con- 
 summate dandyism, " I'll give you the ladies ; come." 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " said Sam, " The young missises." 
 
 Here there was a loud cry of " Order," and Mr. John Smauker, as 
 the gentleman who had introduced Mr. Weller into that company, 
 begged to inform him that the word he had just made use of, was un- 
 parliamentary. 
 
 " \\hich word was that 'ere, Sir?" enquired Sam.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 399 
 
 " Missises, Sir," replied Mr. John Smauker, with an alarming frown. 
 " We don't recognize such distinctions here." 
 
 " Oh, wery good," said Sam ; "then I'll amend the ohserwation, and 
 call 'em the dear creeturs, if Blazes vill allow me." 
 
 Some doubt appeared to exist in the mind of the gentleman 
 in the green foil smalls, whether the chairman could be legally 
 appealed to, as " Blazes," but as the company seemed more dis- 
 posed to stand upon their own rights than his, the question was not 
 raised. The man with the cocked hat, breathed short, and looked long 
 at Sam, but apparently thought it as well to say nothing in case he 
 should get the worst of it. 
 
 After a short silence, a gentleman in an embroidered coat reaching 
 down to his heels, and a waistcoat of the same which kept one half of 
 his legs warm, stirred his gin and water with great energy, and putting 
 himself upon his feet, all at once, by a violent effort, said he was de- 
 sirous of offering a few remarks to the company, whereupon the person 
 in the cocked hat had no doubt that the company would be very happy 
 to hear any remarks that the man in the long coat might wish to offer. 
 
 " I feel a great delicacy, gentlemen, in coming for'ard," said 
 the man in the long coat, " having the misforchune to be a coachman, 
 and being only admitted as a honorary member of these agreeable 
 swarreys, but I.do feel myself bound, gentlemen drove into a corner, 
 if I may use the expression to make known an afflicting circumstance 
 which has come to my knowledge ; which has happened I may say within 
 the soap of my every day contemplation. Gentlemen, our friend Mr. 
 Whiffers (every body looked at the individual in orange), our friend 
 Mr. Whiffers has resigned." 
 
 Universal astonishment fell upon the hearers. Each gentleman looked 
 in his neighbour's face, and then transferred his glance to the upstand- 
 ing coachman. 
 
 " You may well be sapparised, gentlemen," said the coachman. " I 
 will not wenchure to state the reasons of this irrepairabel loss to the 
 service, but I will beg Mr. Whiffers to state them himself, for the im- 
 provement and imitation of his admiring friends." 
 
 The suggestion being loudly approved of, Mr. Whiffers explained. 
 He said he certainly could have wished to have continued to hold the 
 appointment which he had just resigned. The uniform was extremely 
 rich and expensive, the females of the family was most agreeable, and 
 the duties of the situation was not, he was bound to say, too heavy ; 
 the principal service that was required of him, being, that he should look 
 out of the hall window as much as possible, in company with another 
 gentleman, who had also resigned. He could have wished to have spared 
 that company the painful and disgusting detail on which he was about 
 to enter, but as the explanation had been demanded of him, he had no 
 alternative but to state, boldly and distinctly, that he had been required 
 to eat cold meat. 
 
 It is impossible to conceive the disgust which this avowal 
 awakened in the bosoms of the hearers. Loud cries of " Shame, "
 
 400 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 mingled with groans and hisses, prevailed for a quarter of an hour at 
 least. 
 
 Mr. Whiffers then added that he feared a portion of this outrage 
 might be traced to his own forbearing and accommodating disposition. 
 He had a distinct recollection of having once consented to eat salt 
 butter, and he had, moreover, on an occasion of sudden sickness in the 
 house, so far forgotten himself as to carry a coal scuttle up to the 
 second floor. He trusted he had not lowered himself in the good 
 opinion of his friends by this frank confession of his faults ; and he 
 hoped the promptness with which he had resented the last unmanly 
 outrage on his feelings to which he had referred, would reinstate him 
 in their good opinion, if he had. 
 
 Mr. Whiffer's address was responded to, with a shout of admiration, 
 and the health of the interesting martyr was drunk in a most enthusi- 
 astic manner ; for this, the martyr returned thanks, and proposed their 
 yisiter, Mr. Weller a gentleman whom he had not the pleasure of an 
 intimate acquaintance with, but who was the friend of Mr. John Smau- 
 ker, which was a sufficient letter of recommendation to any society of 
 gentlemen whatever, or wherever. On this account he should have 
 been disposed to have given Mr. Weller's health with all the honors, if 
 this friends had been drinking wine, but as they were taking spirits 
 just by way of a change ; and as it might be inconvenient to empty a 
 tumbler at every toast, he should propose that the honors be under- 
 stood. 
 
 At the conclusion of this speech, every body took a sip out of their 
 tumblers in honor of Sam ; and Sam having ladled out, and drank, two 
 full glasses of punch in honor of himself, returned thanks in a neat 
 speech. 
 
 " Wery much obliged to you, old fellers," said Sam, ladling away at 
 the punch in the most unembarrassed manner possible, " for this here 
 compliment ; wich, comin' from sich a quarter, is wery avervelmin'. 
 I've heerd a good deal on you as a body, but I vill say, that I never 
 thought you was sich uncommon nice men as I find you air. I only 
 hope you'll take care o' yourselves, and not compromise nothin' o' your 
 dignity, which is a wery charmin' thing to see, when one's out a walkin', 
 and has always made me wery happy to look at, ever since I was a boy 
 about half as high as the brass-headed stick o' my wery respectable 
 friend, Blazes, there. As to the wictim of oppression in the suit o' 
 brimstone, all I can say of him is, that I hope he'll get jist as good a 
 berth as he deserves ; in vich case it's wery little cold swarry as ever 
 he'll be troubled with agin." 
 
 Here Sam sat down with a pleasant smile, and his speech having 
 been vociferously applauded, the company broke up. 
 
 " Wy, you don't mean to say you're a goin', old feller," said Sam 
 Weller to his friend Mr. John Smauker. 
 
 ''I must indeed," said Mr. Smauker; "I promised Bantam." 
 " Oh, wery well," said Sam ; " that's another thing. P'raps he'd re- 
 sign if you disappinted him. You ain't a goin', Blazes ?"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 401 
 
 " Yes, I am," said the man with the cocked hat. 
 
 " Wot, and leave three quarters of a bowl of punch behind you !" 
 said Sam ; " nonsense, set down agin." 
 
 Mr. Tuckle was not proof against this invitation. He laid aside the 
 cocked hat and stick which he had just taken up, and said he would 
 have one glass just for good fellowship's sake. 
 
 As the gentleman in blue went home the same way as Mr. Tuckle, 
 he was prevailed upon to stop too. When the punch was about half 
 gone, Sam ordered in some oysters from the greengrocer's shop ; and 
 the effect of both was so extremely exhilarating, that Mr. Tuckle, 
 dressed out with the cocked hat and stick, danced the frog hornpipe 
 among the shells on the table, while the gentleman in blue played an 
 accompaniment upon an ingenious musical instrument formed of a hair 
 comb and a curl-paper. At last, when the punch was all gone, and the 
 night nearly so, they sallied forth to see each other home. Mr. Tuckle 
 no sooner got into the open air, than he was seized with a sudden de- 
 sire to lie on the curb-stone ; Sam thought it would be a pity to con- 
 tradict him, and so let him have his own way. As the cocked hat 
 would have been spoilt if left there, Sam very considerately flattened 
 it down on the head of the gentleman in blue, and putting the big stick 
 in his hand, propped him up against his own street-door, rang the bell, 
 and walked quietly home. 
 
 At a much earlier hour next morning than his usual time of rising, 
 Mr. Pickwick walked down stairs completely dressed, and rang the 
 bell. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, when Mr. Weller appeared in reply to 
 the summons, " shut the door." 
 
 Mr. Weller did so. 
 
 " There was an unfortunate occurrence here, last night, Sam," said 
 Mr. Pickwick, " which gave Mr. Winkle some cause to apprehend 
 violence from Mr. Dowler." 
 
 " So I've heerd from, the old lady down stairs, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " And I'm sorry to say, Sam," continued Mr. Pickwick, with a most 
 perplexed countenance, " that in dread of this violence, Mr. Winkle 
 has gone away." 
 
 " Gone avay ! " said Sam. 
 
 " Left the house early this morning without the slightest previous 
 communication with me," replied Mr. Pickwick. " And is gone, I 
 know not where." 
 
 " He should ha' stopped and fought it out, Sir, " replied Sam, 
 contemptuously. " It vouldn't take much to settle that 'ere Dowler, 
 Sir." 
 
 " Well Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " I may have my doubts of his 
 great bravery and determination, also. But however that may be, Mr. 
 Winkle is gone. He must be found, Sam found and brought back to 
 me." 
 
 " And s'pose he von't come back, Sir," said Sam. 
 
 " He must be made, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Who's to do it, Sir?" enquired Sam with a smile.
 
 402 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF THE PICKWICK CLUB. 
 
 " You," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Wery good, Sir." 
 
 With these words Mr. Weller left the room, and immediately after- 
 wards was heard to shut the street door. In two hours' time he re- 
 turned with as much coolness as if he had heen despatched on the most 
 ordinary message possible, and brought the information that an indi- 
 vidual in every respect answering Mr. Winkle's description had gone 
 over to Bristol that morning, by the branch coach from the Royal 
 Hotel. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, grasping his hand, " you're a capital fel- 
 low ; an invaluable fellow. You must follow him, Sam." 
 
 " Cert'nly, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " The instant yon discover him, write to me immediately, Sam," said 
 Mr. Pickwick. " If he attempts to run away from you, knock him 
 down, or lock him up. You have my full authority, Sam." 
 
 " I'll be wery careful, Sir," rejoined Sam. 
 
 " You'll tell him," said Mr. Pickwick, " that I am highly excited, 
 highly displeased, and naturally indignant at the very extraordinary 
 course he has thought proper to pursue. 
 
 " I will, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " You'll tell him," said Mr. Pickwick, " that if he does not come 
 back to this very house, with you, he will come back with me, for I 
 will come and fetch him." 
 
 " I'll mention that 'ere, Sir," rejoined Sam. 
 
 " You think you can find him, Sam ?" said Mr. Pickwick, looking 
 earnestly in his face. 
 
 " Oh, I'll find him if he's any vere," rejoined Sam, with great confi- 
 dence. 
 
 " Very well," said Mr. Pickwick. " Then the sooner you go the 
 better." 
 
 With these instructions Mr. Pickwick placed a sum of money in the 
 hands of his faithful servitor, and ordered him to start for Bristol imme- 
 diately, in pursuit of the fugitive. 
 
 Sam put a few necessaries in a carpet bag, and was ready for starting. 
 He stopped when he had got to the end of the passage, and walking 
 quietly back, thrust his head in at the parlor door. 
 
 " Sir," whispered Sam. 
 
 " Well, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I fully understands my instructions, do I, Sir?" inquired Sam. 
 
 " I hope so," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It's reg'larly understood about the knockin' down, is it Sir?" en- 
 quired Sam. 
 
 " Perfectly," replied Mr. Pickwick. " Thoroughly. Do what you 
 think necessary. You have my orders." 
 
 Sam gave a nod of intelligence, and withdrawing his head from the 
 door, set forth on his pilgrimage with a light heart.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 HOW MR. WINKLE, WHEN HE STEPPED OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN, 
 WALKED GENTLY AND COMFORTABLY INTO THE FIRE. 
 
 THE ill-starred gentleman who had been the unfortunate cause of the 
 unusual noise and disturbance which alarmed the inhabitants of the 
 Royal Crescent in manner and form already described, after passing a 
 night of great confusion and anxiety, left the roof beneath which his 
 friends still slumbered, bound he knew not whither. The excellent and 
 considerate feelings which prompted Mr. Winkle to take this step can 
 never be too highly appreciated or too warmly extolled. " If" rea- 
 soned Mr. Winkle with himself " if this Dowler attempts (as I have 
 no doubt he will) to carry into execution his threat of personal violence 
 against myself, it will be incumbent on me to call him out. He has a 
 wife ; that wife is attached to, and dependent on him. Heavens ! if I 
 should kill him in the blindness of my wrath, what would be my feelings 
 ever afterwards ! " This painful consideration operated so powerfully on. 
 the feelings of the humane young man, as to cause his knees to knock 
 together, and his countenance to exhibit alarming manifestations of in- 
 ward emotion. Impelled by these reflections, he grasped his carpet-bag, 
 and creeping stealthily down stairs, shut the detestable street-door with 
 as little noise as possible, and walked off. Bending his steps towards 
 the Royal Hotel, he found a coach on the point of starting for Bristol ; 
 and thinking Bristol as good a place for his purpose as any other he 
 could go to, mounted on the box, and reached his place of destination 
 in such time as the pair of horses, who went the whole stage and back 
 again twice a day or more, could be reasonably supposed to arrive there. 
 
 He took up his quarters at The Bush ; and designing to postpone any 
 communication by letter with Mr. Pickwick until it was probable that 
 Mr. Dowler's wrath might have in some degree evaporated, walked forth 
 to view the city, which struck him as being a shade more dirty than any 
 place he had ever seen. Having inspected the docks and shipping, and 
 viewed the cathedral, he inquired his way to Clifton, and being directed 
 thither, took the route which was pointed out to him. But, as the 
 pavements of Bristol are not the widest or cleanest upon earth, so its 
 streets are not altogether the straightest or least intricate ; and Mr. 
 Winkle being greatly puzzled by their manifold windings and twistings, 
 looked about him for a decent shop in which he could apply afresh tor 
 counsel and instruction. 
 
 His eye fell upon a newly-painted tenement which had been recentlj 
 converted into something between a shop and a private-house, and which 
 a red lamp, projecting over the fan-light of the street-door, would have 
 sufficiently announced as the residence of a medical practitioner, even if 
 the word " Surgery " had not been inscribed in golden characters on a
 
 404 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 wainscot ground, above the window of what, in times bygone, had been 
 the front parlour. Thinking this an eligible place wherein to make his 
 inquiries, Mr. Winkle stepped into the little shop where the gilt- 
 labelled drawers and bottles were ; and finding nobody there, knocked 
 with a half-crown on the counter, to attract the attention of anybody 
 who might happen to be in the back parlour, which he judged to be the 
 innermost and peculiar sanctum of the establishment, from the repetition 
 of the word surgery on the door painted in white letters this time, by 
 way of taking off the sameness. 
 
 At the first knock, a sound, as of persons fencing with fire-irons, which 
 bad until now been very audible, suddenly ceased ; and at the second, a 
 studious-looking young gentleman in green spectacles, with a very large 
 book in his hand, glided quietly into the shop, and stepping behind the 
 counter, requested to know the visitor's pleasure. 
 
 " I am sorry to trouble you, Sir," said Mr. Winkle, " but will you 
 have the goodness to direct me to " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " roared the studious young gentleman, throwing 
 the large book up into the air, and catching it with great dexterity at 
 the very moment when it threatened to smash to atoms all the bottles- 
 on the counter. " Here's a start ! " 
 
 There was, without doubt ; for Mr. Winkle was so very much asto- 
 nished at the extraordinary behaviour of the medical gentleman, that he 
 involuntarily retreated towards the door, and looked very much dis- 
 turbed at his strange reception. 
 
 " What, don't you know me?" said the medical gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Winkle murmured, in reply, that he had not that pleasure. 
 
 " Why then," said the medical gentleman, " there are hopes for me 
 yet ; I may attend half the old women in Bristol if I've decent luck. 
 Get out, you mouldy old villain, get out." With this adjuration, which 
 was addressed to the large book, the medical gentleman kicked the volume 
 with remarkable agility to the further end of the shop, and pulling off 
 his green spectacles, grinned the identical grin of Robert Sawyer, Es- 
 quire, formerly of Guy's Hospital in the Borough, with a private resi- 
 dence in Lant-street. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you weren't down upon me ! " said Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, shaking Mr. Winkle's hand with friendly warmth. 
 
 " Upon my word I was not," replied Mr. Winkle, returning the 
 pressure. 
 
 " I wonder you didn't see the name," said Bob Sawyer, calling his 
 friend's attention to the outer door, on which, in the same white paint, 
 were traced the words " Sawyer, late Nockemorf." 
 
 " It never caught my eye," returned Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Lord, if I had known who you were, I should have rushed out, and 
 caught you in my arms," said Bob Sawyer ; " but upon my life, I thought 
 you were the King's-taxes." 
 
 " No! "said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " I did, indeed," responded Bob Sawyer, " and I was just going to 
 say that I wasn't at home, but if you'd leave a message I'd be sure to 
 give it to myself; for he don't know me, no more does the Lighting;
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 405 
 
 and Paving. I think the Church-rates guesses who I am, and I know 
 the Water-works does, because I drew a tooth of his, when I first came 
 down here. But come in, come in." Chattering in this way, Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer pushed Mr. Winkle into the back room, where, amusing him- 
 self by boring little circular caverns in the chimney-piece with a red-hot 
 poker, sat no less a person than Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Winkle, " this is indeed a pleasure that I did not 
 expect. What a very nice place you have here !" 
 
 " Pretty well, pretty well," replied Bob Sawyer. " I passed, soon 
 after that precious party, and my friends came down with the needful 
 for this business ; so I put on a black suit of clothes and a pair of spec- 
 tacles, and came here, to look as solemn as I could." 
 
 " And a very snug little business you have, no doubt ?" said Mr. 
 Winkle, knowingly. 
 
 " Very," replied Bob Sawyer. " So snug, that at the end of a few 
 years you might put all the profits in a wine glass, and cover 'em over 
 with a gooseberry leaf." 
 
 " You cannot surely mean that?" said Mr. Winkle. " The stock 
 itself " 
 
 " Dummies, my dear boy," said Bob Sawyer ; " half the drawers have 
 got nothing in 'em, and the other half don't open." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Fact honour!" returned Bob Sawyer, stepping out into the shop, 
 and demonstrating the veracity of the assertion by divers hard pulls at 
 the little gilt knobs on the counterfeit drawers. " Hardly any thing 
 real in the shop but the leeches, and they are secondhand." 
 
 " I shouldn't have thought it!" exclaimed Mr. Winkle, much sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " I hope not," replied Bob Sawyer, " else where 's the use of appear- 
 ances, eh ? But what will you take ! Do as we do ? that 's right. 
 Ben, my fine fellow, put your hand into the cupboard, and bring out the 
 patent digester." 
 
 Mr. Benjamin Allen smiled his readiness, and produced from the 
 closet at his elbow a black bottle half full of brandy. 
 
 " You don't take water, of course?" said Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " Thank you," replied Mr. Winkle. " It 's rather early : I should 
 like to qualify it, if you have no objection." 
 
 " None in the least, if you can reconcile it to your conscience," re- 
 plied Bob Sawyer; tossing off, as he spoke, a glass of the liquor with 
 great relish. " Ben, the pipkin." 
 
 Mr. Benjamin Allen drew forth from the same hiding-place a small 
 brass pipkin/which Bob Sawyer observed he prided himself upon, parti- 
 cularly, because it looked so business-like. The water in the profes- 
 sional pipkin having been made to boil, in course of time, by va- 
 rious little shovels-full of coal, which Mr. Bob Sawyer took out of a 
 practicable window-seat, labelled " Soda Water," Mr. Winkle adulterated 
 his brandy ; and the conversation was becoming general, when it was 
 interrupted by the entrance into the shop of a boy, in a sober grey 
 livery and a gold-laced hat, with a small covered basket under his arm, 
 
 G G 2
 
 406 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 whom Mr. Bob Sawyer immediately hailed with, " Tom, you vagabond, 
 come here." 
 
 The boy presented himself accordingly. 
 
 " You've been stopping to over all the posts in Bristol, you idle young 
 scamp ! " said Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " No, Sir, I haven't," replied the boy. 
 
 " You had better not ! " said Mr. Bob Sawyer, with a threatening aspect. 
 " Who do you suppose will ever employ a professional man. when they 
 see his boy playing at marbles in the gutter, or flying the garter in the 
 horse-road? Have you no feeling for your profession, you groveller? 
 Did you leave all the medicine ?" 
 " Yes, Sir." 
 
 " The powders for the child, at the large house with the new family, 
 and the pills to be taken four times a day at the ill-tempered old gentle- 
 man's with the gouty leg ? " 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 " Then shut the door, and mind the shop." 
 
 " Come," said Mr. Winkle, as the boy retired, " things are not quite 
 &.. had as you would have me believe, either. There is some medicine 
 to lie sent out." 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer peeped into the shop to see that no stranger was 
 within hearing, and leaning forward to Mr. Winkle, said, in a low 
 tone 
 
 " He leaves it all at the wrong houses." 
 
 Mr. W T inkle looked perplexed, and Bob Sawyer and his friend 
 laughed. 
 
 " Don't you see?" said Bob; " he goes up to a house, rings the area 
 bell, pokes a packet of medicine without a direction into the servant's 
 hand, and walks off. Servant takes it into the dining-parlour; master 
 opens it, and reads the label, ' Draught to be taken at bedtime pills 
 as before lotion as usual the powder. From Sawyer's, late Nock- 
 emorf's. Physicians' prescriptions carefully prepared :' and all the rest 
 of it. Shows it to his wife she reads the label; it goes down to the 
 servants they read the label. Next day the boy calls: ' Very sorry 
 his mistake immense business great many parcels to deliver Mr. 
 Sawyer's compliments late Nockemorf.' The name gets known, and 
 that 's the thing, my boy, in the medical way ; bless your heart, old 
 fellow, it 's better than all the advertising in the world. We have got 
 one four-ounce bottle that 's been to half the houses in Bristol, and 
 hasn't done yet." 
 
 " Dear me, I see," observed Mr.Winkle; " what an excellent plan!" 
 " Oh, Ben and I have hit upon a dozen such," replied Bob Sawyer, 
 with great glee. " The lamplighter has eighteen-pence a week to pull 
 the night-bell for ten minutes, efery time he comes round ; and my boy 
 always rushes into church just before the psalms, when the people 
 have got nothing to do but look about 'em, and calls me out, with horror 
 and dismay depicted on his countenance. ' Bless my soul,' every body 
 says, ' somebody taken suddenly ill ! Sawyer, late Nockemorf, sent 
 for. What a business that young man has I'"
 
 THE PICKWICK CT.UB. 407 
 
 At the termination of this disclosure of Rome of the mysteries of 
 medicine, Mr. Bob Sawyer and his friend, Ben Allen, threw themselves 
 back in their respective chairs, and laughed boisterously. When they 
 had enjoyed the joke to their hearts' content, the discourse changed to 
 topics in which Mr. Winkle was more immediately interested. 
 
 We think we have hinted elsewhere, that Mr. Benjamin Allen had a 
 way of becoming: sentimental after brandy. The case is not a peculiar 
 one, as we ourself can testify, having, on a few occasions, had to deal 
 with patients who have been afflicted in a similar manner. At this 
 precise period of his existence, Mr. Benjamin Allen had perhaps a 
 greater predisposition to maudlinism than he had ever known before ; the 
 cause of which malady was briefly this. He had been staying nearly three 
 weeks with Mr. Bob Sawyer; Mr. Bob Sawyer was not remarkable for 
 temperance, nor was Mr. Benjamin Allen for the ownership of a very 
 strong head ; and the consequence was, that, during the whole space of 
 time just mentioned, Mr. Benjamin Allen had been wavering between 
 intoxication partial and intoxication complete. 
 
 " My dear friend," said Mr. Ben Allen, taking advantage of Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer's temporary absence behind the counter, whither he had retired 
 to dispense some of the secondhand leeches, previously referred to, 
 " my dear friend, I am very miserable." 
 
 Mr. Winkle professed his heartfelt regret to hear it, and begged to 
 know whether he could do any thing to alleviate the sorrows of the 
 suffering student. 
 
 " Nothing, ray dear hoy nothing," said Ben. " You recollect 
 Arabella, Winkle my sister Arabella a little girl, Winkle, with black 
 eyes when we were down at Wardle's ? I don't know whether you 
 happened to notice her a nice little girl, Winkle. Perhaps my fea- 
 tures may recal her countenance to your recollection ?" 
 
 Mr. Winkle required nothing to recal the charming Arabella to his 
 mind ; and it was rather fortunate he did not, for the features of her 
 brother Benjamin would unquestionably have proved but an indifferent 
 refresher to his memory. He answered, with as much calmness as he 
 could assume, that he perfectly remembered the young lady referred to, 
 and sincerely trusted she was in good health. 
 
 " Our friend Bob is a delightful fellow, Winkle," was the only reply 
 of Mr. Ben Allen. 
 
 " Very," said Mr. Winkle, not ir.uch relishing this close connexion 
 of the two names. 
 
 *' I designed 'em for each other; they were made for each other, sent 
 into the world for each other, born for each other, Winkle," said Mr. Ben 
 Allen, setting down his glass with great emphasis. " There 's a special 
 destiny in the matter, my dear Sir; there 's only five years' difference 
 between 'em, and both their birthdays are in August." 
 
 Mr. Winkle was too anxious to hear what was to follow, to express 
 much wonderment at this extraordinary circumstance, marvellous as it 
 was ; so Mr. Ben Allen, after a tear or^two, went on to say, that, notwith- 
 standing all his esteem and respect and veneration for his friend,
 
 408 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Arabella had unaccountably and undutifully evinced the most deter- 
 mined antipathy to his person. 
 
 " And I think," said Mr. Ben Allen, in conclusion, " / think there 's 
 a prior attachment." 
 
 "Have you any idea who the object of it maybe?" asked Mr. 
 Winkle, with great trepidation. 
 
 Mr. Ben Allen seized the poker, flourished it, in a warlike manner 
 above his head, inflicted a savage blow on an imaginary skull, and 
 wound up by saying, in a very expressive manner, that he only wished 
 he could guess that was all. 
 
 " I 'd show him what I thought of him," said Mr. Ben Allen. And 
 round went the poker again, more fiercely than before. 
 
 All this, was of course very soothing to the feelings of Mr. Winkle, 
 who remained silent for a few minutes ; but at length mustered up re- 
 solution to inquire whether Miss Allen was in Kent. 
 
 " No, no," said Mr. Ben Allen, laying aside the poker, and looking 
 very cunning ; " I didn't think Wardle's exactly the place for a head- 
 strong girl ; so, as I am her natural protector and guardian, our parents 
 being dead, I have brought her down into this part of the country to 
 spend a few months at an old aunt's, in a nice, dull, close place. I 
 think that will cure her, my boy ; and if it doesn't, 1 '11 take her abroad 
 for a little while, and see what that '11 do." 
 
 " Oh, the aunt's is in Bristol, is it?" faltered Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " No, no not in Bristol," replied Mr. Ben Allen, jerking- his thumb 
 over his right shoulder : " over that way down there. But, hush, 
 here's Bob. Not a word, my dear friend not a word." 
 
 Short as this conversation was, it roused in Mr. Winkle the highest 
 degree of excitement and anxiety. The suspected prior attachment 
 rankled in his heart. Could he be the object of it ? Could it be for 
 him that the fair Arabella had looked scornfully on the sprightly Bob 
 Sawyer, or had he a successful rival ? He determined to see her, cost 
 what it might ; but here an insurmountable objection presented itself, for 
 whether the explanatory " over that way," and " down there," of Mr. 
 Ben Allen, meant three miles off, or thirty, or three hundred, he*could 
 in no wise guess. 
 
 But he had no opportunity of pondering over his love just then, for 
 Bob Sawyer's return was the immediate precursor of the arrival of a 
 meat pie from the baker's, of which that gentleman insisted on his 
 staying to partake. The cloth was laid by an occasional chairwoman, 
 who officiated in the capacity of Mr. Bob Sawyer's housekeeper ; and a 
 third knife and fork having been borrowed from the mother of the boy 
 in the grey livery (for Mr. Sawyer's domestic arrangements were as yet 
 conducted on a limited scale), they sat down to dinner; the beer being 
 served up, as Mr. Sawyer remarked, " in its native pewter." 
 
 After dinner, Mr. Bob Sawyer ordered in the largest mortar in the 
 shop, and proceeded to brew a reeking jorum of rum-punch therein, 
 stirring up and amalgamating the materials with a pestle in a very cre- 
 ditable and apothecary-like manner. Mr. Sawyer being a bachelor, had

 
 PI
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 409 
 
 only one tumbler in the house, which was assigned to Mr. Winkle as a 
 compliment to the visitor, Mr. Ben Allen being- accommodated with a 
 funnel with a cork in the narrow end, and Bob Sawyer contenting himself 
 with one of those wide-lipped crystal vessels inscribed with a variety of 
 cabalistic characters, in which chemists are wont to measure out their 
 liquid drugs in compounding prescriptions. These preliminaries adjusted, 
 the punch was .tasted, and pronounced excellent ; and it having been 
 arranged that Bob Sawyer and Ben Allen should be considered at liberty 
 to fill twice to Mr. Winkle's once, they started fair, with great satisfac- 
 tion and good-fellowship. 
 
 There was no singing, because Mr. Bob Sawyer said it wouldn't look 
 professional ; but to make amends for this deprivation there was so much 
 talking and laughing that it might have been heard, and very likely 
 was, at the end of the street : which conversation materially lightened 
 the hours and improved the mind of Mr. Bob Sawyer's boy, who, in- 
 stead of devoting the evening to his ordinary occupation of writing his 
 name on the counter, and rubbing it out again, peeped through the 
 glass door, and thus listened and looked on, at the same time. 
 
 The mirth of Mr. Bob Sawyer was rapidly ripening into the furious, 
 Mr. Ben Allen was fast relapsing into the sentimental, and the punch 
 had well nigh disappeared altogether, when the boy hastily running in, 
 announced that a young woman had just come over, to say that Sawyer 
 late Nockemorf was wanted directly, a couple of streets off. This broke 
 up the party. Mr. Bob Sawyer understanding the message after some 
 twenty repetitions, tied a wet cloth round his head to sober himself, and 
 having partially succeeded, put on his green spectacles and issued forth. 
 Resisting all entreaties to stay till he came back, and finding it quite 
 impossible to engage Mr. Ben Allen in any intelligible conversation on 
 the subject nearest his heart, or indeed on any other, Mr. Winkle took 
 his departure and returned to the Bush. 
 
 The anxiety of his mind, and the numerous meditations which Arabella 
 had awakened, prevented his share of the mortar of punch producing 
 that effect upon him which it would have had, under other circumstances. 
 So, after taking a glass of soda-water and brandy at the bar, he turned 
 into the coffee-room, dispirited rather than elevated by the occurrences 
 of the evening. 
 
 Sitting in front of the fire, with his back towards him, was a tallish 
 gentleman in a great-coat : the only other occupant of the room. It was 
 rather a cool evening for the season of the year, and the gentleman drew 
 his chair aside to afford the new comer a sight of the fire. What were 
 Mr. Winkle's feelings when, in so doing, he disclosed to view the face 
 and figure of the vindictive and sanguinary Dowler ! 
 
 Mr. Winkle's first impulse was to give a violent pull at the nearest 
 bell-handle, but that unfortunately happened to be immediately behind 
 Mr. Dowler's head. He had made one step towards it, before he 
 checked himself. As he did so, Mr. Dowler very hastily drew back. 
 
 " Mr. Winkle, Sir. Be calm. Don't strike me. I won't bear it. 
 A blow ! Never," said Mr. Dowler, looking meeker than Mr. Winkle 
 had expected in a gentleman of his ferocity.
 
 410 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " A blow, Sir?" stammered Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " A blow, Sir," replied Dowler. " Compose your feelings. Sit 
 down. Hear me." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Winkle, trembling from head to foot, " before I con- 
 sent to sit down beside, or opposite you, without the presence of a 
 waiter, I must be secured by some further understanding. You used a 
 threat against me last night, Sir a dreadful threat, Sir." Here Mr. 
 Winkle turned very pale indeed, and stopped short. 
 
 " I did," said Dowler, with a countenance almost as white as Mr. 
 Winkle's. " Circumstances were suspicious. They have been ex- 
 plained. I respect your bravery. Your feeling is upright. Conscious 
 innocence. There's my hand. Grasp it." 
 
 " Really Sir," said Mr. Winkle, hesitating whether to give his hand 
 or not, and almost fearing that it was demanded in order that he might 
 
 be taken at an advantage, " really Sir, I " 
 
 " I know what you mean," interposed Dowler. " You feel aggrieved. 
 Very natural. So should I. I was wrong. I beg your pardon. Be 
 friendly. Forgive me." With this, Dowler fairly forced his hand upon 
 Mr. Winkle, and shaking it with the utmost vehemence, declared he was 
 a fellow of extreme spirit, and he had a higher opinion of him than ever. 
 " Now," said Dowler, " sit down. Relate it all. How did you find 
 me ? When did you follow ? Be frank. Tell me." 
 
 " It's quite accidental," replied Mr. Winkle, greatly perplexed by the 
 curious and unexpected nature of the interview, " Quite." 
 
 " Glad of it," said Dowler. " I woke this morning. I had forgotten 
 my threat. I laughed at the accident. I felt friendly. I said so." 
 " To whom?" inquired Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " To Mrs. Dowler. You made a vow,' said she. ' I did/ said I. 
 It was a rash one,' said she. ' It was,' said I. * I'll apologise. Where 
 is he?'" 
 
 Who ?" inquired Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " You," replied Dowler. " I went down stairs. You were not to be 
 found. Pickwick looked gloomy. Shook his head. Hoped no violence 
 would be committed. I saw it all. You felt yourself insulted. You 
 had gone, for a friend perhaps. Possibly for pistols. ' High spirit,' said 
 I. ' I admire him.' " 
 
 Mr. .Winkle coughed, and beginning to see how the land lay, assumed 
 a look of importance. 
 
 " I left a note for you," resumed Dowler. " I said I was sorry. So 
 I was. Pressing business called me here. You were not satisfied. 
 You followed. You required a verbal explanation. You were right. 
 It's all over now. My business is finished. I go back to-morrow. 
 Join me." 
 
 As Dowler progressed in his explanation, Mr. Winkle's countenance 
 grew more and more dignified. The mysterious nature of the com- 
 mencement of their conversation was explained ; Mr. Dowler had as 
 great an objection to duelling as himself; in short, this blustering and 
 awful personage was one of the most egregious cowards in existence, 
 and interpreting Mr. Winkle's absence through the medium of his own
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 411 
 
 fears, had actually taken the same step as himself, and prudently retired 
 until all excitement of feeling should have subsided. 
 
 As the real state of the case dawned upon Mr. Winkle's mind, he 
 looked very terrible, and said he was perfectly satisfied ; but at the same 
 time, said so, with an air that left Mr. Dowler no alternative but to infer 
 that if he had not been, something' most horrible and destructive must 
 inevitably have occurred. Mr. Dowler appeared to be impressed with a 
 becoming- sense of Mr. Winkle's magnanimity and condescension ; and 
 the two belligerents parted for the night, with many protestations of 
 eternal friendship. 
 
 About half-past twelve o'clock, when Mr. Winkle had been revelling 
 some twenty minutes in the full luxury of his iirst sleep, he was sud- 
 denly awakened by a loud knocking at his chamber-door, which, being 
 repeated with increased vehemence, caused him to start up in bed, and 
 inquire who was there, and what the matter was. 
 
 " Please, Sir, here's a young man which says he must see you di- 
 rectly," responded the voice of the chambermaid. 
 
 " A young man !" exclaimed Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " No mistake about that "ere, Sir," replied another voice through the 
 keyhole ; " and if that wery same interestin' young creetur ain't let in 
 vithout delay, it's wery possible as his legs vill enter afore his counte- 
 nance." The young man gave a gentle kick at one of the lower pannels 
 of the door, after he had given utterance to this hint, as if to add force 
 and point to the remark. 
 
 " Is that you, Sam?" inquired Mr. W T inkle, springing out of bed. 
 
 " Quite unpossible to identify any gen'lm'n vith any degree o' mental 
 satisfaction, vithout lookin' at him, Sir," replied the voice, dogmatically. 
 
 Mr. Winkle, not much doubting who the young man was, unlocked 
 the door: which he had no sooner done, than Mr. Samuel Weller en- 
 tered with great precipitation, and carefully reiocking it on the inside, 
 deliberately put the key in his waistcoat pocket ; and, after surveying 
 Mr. Winkle from head to foot, said 
 
 " You're a wery humorous young gen'lm'n, you air, Sir." 
 
 " What do you mean by this conduct, Sam?" inquired Mr. Winkle, 
 indignantly. " Get out, Sir, this instant. What do you mean, Sir?" 
 
 " What do / mean," retorted Sam ; " come, Sir, this is rayther too 
 rich, as the young lady said ven she remonstrated with the pastry- 
 cook, arter he'd sold her a pork-pie as had got nothin' but fat inside. 
 What do /mean ! Well, that ain't a bad 'un, that ain't." 
 
 "Unlock that door, and leave this room immediately, Sir," said Mr. 
 Winkle. 
 
 " I shall leave this here room, Sir, just percisely at. the wery same 
 moment as you leaves it," responded Sam, speaking in a forcible man- 
 ner, and seating himself with perfect gravity. " If I find it necessary to 
 carry you away, pick-a-back, o' course I shall leave it the least bit o* 
 time possible afore you ; but allow me to express a hope as you won't 
 reduce me to ex-tremities : in saying vich, I merely quote wot the 
 nobleman said to the fractious pennywinkle, ven he vouldn't come out 
 of his shell by means of a pin, and he conseqvently began to be afeerd that
 
 412 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 he should be obliged to crack him in the parlour door." At the end of 
 this address, which was unusually lengthy for him, Mr. Weller planted 
 his hands on his knees, and looked full in Mr. Winkle's face, with an 
 expression of countenance which showed that he had not the remotest 
 intention of being- trifled with. 
 
 " You're a amiably-disposed young man, Sir, I don't think," resumed 
 Mr. Weller, in a tone of moral reproof, " to go inwolving our precious 
 governor in all sorts o' fanteegs, ven he's made up his mind to go 
 through ev'ry think for principle. You're far worse nor Dodson, Sir ; 
 and as for Fogg, I consider him a born angel to you ! " Mr. Weller 
 having accompanied this last sentiment with an emphatic slap on each 
 knee, folded his arms with a look of great disgust, and threw himself 
 back in his chair, as if awaiting the criminal's defence. 
 
 "My good fellow," said Mr. Winkle, extending his hand his teeth 
 chattering all the time he spoke, for he had been standing during the 
 whole of Mr. Weller's lecture in his night-gear, " My good fellow, I 
 respect your attachment to my excellent friend, and I am very sorry 
 indeed, to have added to his causes for disquiet. There, Sam, there ! " 
 
 " Well," said Sam, rather sulkily, but giving the proffered hand a 
 respectful shake at the same time " Well, so you ought to be, and I 
 am very glad to End you air ; for, if I can help it, I won't have" him put 
 upon by nobody, and that's all about it." 
 
 "Certainly not, Sam," said Mr. Winkle. "There, now go to bed, 
 Sam,, and we'll talk further about this, in the morning." 
 
 " I'm wery sorry," said Sam, "but I can't goto bed." 
 
 " Not go to bed ! " repeated Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " No," said Sam, shaking his head, " Can't be done." 
 
 " You don't mean to say you're going back to-night, Sam ? " urged 
 Mr. Winkle, greatly surprised. 
 
 " Not unless you particklerly vish it," replied Sam ; " but I mustn't 
 leave this here room. The governor's orders wos peremptory." 
 
 " Nonsense, Sara," said Mr. Winkle, " I must stop here two or three 
 days ; and more than that, Sam, you must stop here too, to assist me 
 in gaining an interview with a young lady Miss Allen, Sam ; you 
 remember her whom I must and will see before I leave Bristol." 
 
 But in reply to each of these positions, Sam shook his head with 
 great firmness, and energetically replied, " It can't be done." 
 
 After a great deal of argument and representation on the part of Mr. 
 Winkle, however, and a full disclosure of what had passed in the inter- 
 view with Dowler, Sam began to waver ; and at length a compromise 
 was effected, of which the following were the main and principal con- 
 ditions : 
 
 That Sam should retire, and leave Mr. Winkle in the undisturbed 
 possession of his apartment, on condition that he had permission to lock 
 the door on the outside, and carry off the key ; provided always, that in 
 the event of an alarm of fire, or other dangerous contingency, the door 
 should be instantly unlocked. That a letter should be written to Mr. 
 Pickwick early next morning, and forwarded per Dowler, requesting his 
 consent to Sam and Mr. Winkle's remaining at Bristol, for the purpose
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 413 
 
 and with the object already assigned, and begging an answer by the 
 next coach ; if favourable, the aforesaid parties to remain accordingly, 
 and if not, to return to Bath immediately on the receipt thereof. And, 
 lastly, that Mr. Winkle should be understood as distinctly pledging him- 
 self not to resort to the window, fire-place, or other surreptitious mode 
 of escape in the meanwhile. These stipulations having been concluded, 
 Sam locked the door and departed. 
 
 He had nearly got down stairs, when he stopped, and drew the key 
 from his pocket. 
 
 " I quite forgot about the knockin' down," said Sam, half turning 
 back. " The governor distinctly said it wos to be done ; amazin' stupid 
 o' me, that 'ere now. Never mind," said Sam, brightening up, " It's 
 easily done to-morrow, anyvays." 
 
 Apparently much consoled by this reflection, Mr. Weller once more 
 deposited the key in his pocket, and, descending the remainder of the 
 stairs without any fresh visitations of conscience, was soon, in common 
 with the other inmates of the house, buried in profound repose. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 MR. SAMUEL WELLER, BEING ENTRUSTED WITH A MISSION OF LOVE, 
 PROCEEDS TO EXECUTE IT; WITH WHAT SUCCESS WILL HEREIN- 
 AFTER APPEAR. 
 
 DURING the whole of next day, Sara kept Mr. Winkle steadily in 
 sight, fully determined not to take his eyes off him for one instant, 
 until he should receive express instructions from the fountain-head. 
 However disagreeable Sam's very close watch and great vigilance were 
 to Mr. Winkle, he thought it better to bear with them, than, by any 
 act of violent opposition, to hazard being carried away by force, which 
 Mr. Weller more than once strongly hinted was the line of conduct 
 that a strict sense of duty prompted him to pursue. There is little 
 reason to doubt that Sam would very speedily have quieted his scruples, 
 by bearing Mr. Winkle back to Bath, bound hand and foot, had not Mr. 
 Pickwick's prompt attention to the note, which Dowler had undertaken 
 to deliver, forestalled any such proceeding. In short, at eight o'clock 
 in the evening, Mr. Pickwick himself, walked into the coffee-room of 
 the Bush tavern, and told Sam with a smile, to his very great relief, 
 that he had done quite right, and it was unnecessary for him to mount 
 guard any longer. 
 
 " I thought it better to come myself," said Mr. Pickwick, addressing 
 Mr. Winkle, as Sam disencumbered him of his great-coat and travelling 
 shawl, " to ascertain, before I gave my consent to Sam's employment 
 in this matter, that you are quite in earnest and serious, with respect 
 to this young lady."
 
 414 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Serious, from my heart from my soul !" returned Mr. Winkle, 
 with great energy. 
 
 " Remember," said Mr. Pickwick, with beaming- eyes, " we met her 
 at our excellent and hospitable friend's, Winkle. It would be an ill 
 return to tamper lightly, and without due consideration, with this 
 young lady's affections. I '11 not allow that, Sir I '11 not allow it." 
 
 " I have no such intention, indeed," exclaimed Mr. Winkle warmly. 
 " I have considered the matter well, for a long time, and I feel that my 
 happiness is bound up in her." 
 
 " That 's wot we call tying it up in a small parcel, Sir," interposed 
 Mr. Weller, with an agreeable smile. 
 
 Mr. Winkle looked somewhat stern at this interruption, and Mr. 
 Pickwick angrily requested his attendant not to jest with one of the 
 best feelings of our nature ; to which Sam replied, " That he wouldn't, 
 if he was aware on it; but there were so many on 'em, that he hardly 
 know'd which was the best ones ven he heerd 'em mentioned." 
 
 Mr. Winkle then recounted what had passed between himself and 
 Mr. Ben Allen, relative to Arabella, stated that his object was to gain 
 an interview with the young lady, and make a formal disclosure of 
 his passion ; and declared his conviction, founded on certain dark 
 hints and mutterings of the aforesaid Ben, that, wherever she was at 
 present immured, it was somewhere near the Downs : and this was his 
 whole stock of knowledge or suspicion upon the subject. 
 
 With this very slight clue to guide him, it was determined that Mr. 
 Weller should start next morning on an expedition of discovery ; it 
 was also arranged that Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle, who were less 
 confident of their powers, should parade the town meanwhile, and acci- 
 dentally drop in upon Mr. Bob Sawyer in the course of the day, in the 
 hope of seeing or hearing something of the young lady's whereabout. 
 
 Accordingly, next morning, Sam Weller issued forth upon his quest, 
 in no way daunted by the very discouraging prospect before him ; and 
 away he walked, up one street and down another we were going to 
 say, up one hill and down another, only it 's all uphill at Clifton 
 without meeting with any thing or any body that tended to throw the 
 faintest light upon the matter in hand. Many were the colloquies 
 into which Sam entered with grooms who were airing horses on roads, 
 and nursemaids who were airing children in lanes ; but nothing could 
 Sam elicit from either the first-mentioned or the last, which bore the 
 slightest reference to the object of his artfully-prosecuted inquiries. 
 There were a great many young ladies in a great many houses, the 
 greater part whereof were shrewdly suspected by the male and female 
 domestics to be deeply attached to somebody, or perfectly ready to 
 become so, if opportunity offered. But as none among these young 
 ladies was Miss Arabella Allen, the information left Sam at exactly 
 the old point of wisdom at which -he had stood before. 
 
 Sam struggled across the Downs against a good high wind, wonder- 
 ing whether it was always necessary to hold your hat on with both 
 hands in that part of the country, and came to a shady by-place, about 
 which were sprinkled several little villas of quiet and secluded appear-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 415 
 
 ance Outside a stable-door at the bottom of a long back lane without 
 a thoroughfare, a groom in undress was idling about, apparently per- 
 suading himself that he was doing something with a spade and a 
 wheelbarrow. We may remark, in this place, that we have scarcely 
 ever seen a groom near a stable, in his lazy moments, who has not 
 been, to a greater or less extent, the victim of this singular delusion. 
 
 Sam thought he might as well talk to this groom as to any one else, 
 especially as he was very tired with walking, and there was a good 
 large stone just opposite the wheelbarrow; so he strolled down the 
 lane, and, seating himself on the stone, opened a conversation with the 
 ease and freedom for which he was remarkable. 
 " Mornin', old friend," said Sam. 
 
 " Arternoon, you mean," replied the groom, casting a surly look at 
 Sam. 
 
 " You 're wery right, old friend," said Sam ; " I do mean arternoon. 
 How are you?" 
 
 " Why, I don't find myself much the better for seeing of you," re- 
 plied the ill-tempered groom. 
 
 " That 's wery odd that is," said Sam, " for you look so uncom- 
 mon cheerful, and seem altogether so lively, that it does vun's heart 
 good to see you." 
 
 The surly groom looked surlier still at this, but not sufficiently so 
 to produce any effect upon Sam, who immediately inquired, with a 
 countenance of great anxiety, whether his master's name was not 
 Walker. 
 
 " No, it ain't," said the groom. 
 " Nor Brown, I s'pose ? " said Sam. 
 " No, it ain't." 
 " Nor Vilson?" 
 
 " No; nor that neither," said the groom. 
 
 "Veil," replied Sam, " then I 'm mistaken, and he hasn't got the 
 honour o' my acquaintance, which I thought he had. Don't vait here 
 out o' compliment to me," said Sam, as the groom wheeled in the bar- 
 row, and prepared to shut the gate. " Ease afore ceremony, old boy ; 
 I '11 excuse you." 
 
 " I 'd knock your head off for half-a-crown," said the surly groom, 
 bolting one half of the gate. 
 
 " Couldn't afford to have it done on those terms," rejoined Sara. 
 " It 'ud be vurth a life's board vages, at least, to you, and 'ud be cheap 
 at that. Make my compliments in-doors. Tell 'em not to vait dinner 
 for me, and say they needn't mind puttin' any by, for it '11 be cold afore 
 I come in." 
 
 In reply to this, the groom, waxing very wroth, muttered a desire to 
 damage somebody's head ; but disappeared without carrying it into exe- 
 cution, slamming the door angrily after him, and wholly unheeding 
 Sam's affectionate request, that he would leave him a lock of his hair, 
 before he went. 
 
 Sam continued to sit on the large stone, meditating upon what was 
 best to be done, and revolving in his mind a plan for knocking at all the
 
 416 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 doors within five miles of Bristol, taking them at a hundred and fifty or 
 two hundred a day, and endeavouring to find Miss Arabella by that ex- 
 pedient, when accident all of a sudden threw in his way what he might 
 have sat there for a twelvemonth and yet not found without it. 
 
 Into the lane where he sat, there opened three or four garden gates, 
 belonging to as many houses, which though detached from each other, 
 were only separated by their gardens. As these were large and long, 
 and well planted with trees, the houses were not only at some distance 
 off, but the greater part of them were nearly concealed from view. Sam 
 was sitting with his eyes fixed upon the dust-heap outside the next 
 gate to that by which the groom had disappeared, profoundly turning 
 over in his mind the difficulties of his present undertaking, when the 
 gate opened, and a female servant came out into the lane to shake some 
 bed-side carpets. 
 
 Sam was so very busy with his own thoughts, that it is probable he 
 would have taken no more notice of the young woman than just raising 
 his head and remarking that she had a very neat and pretty figure, if his 
 feelings of gallantry had not been most strongly roused by observing that 
 she had no one to help her, and that the carpets seemed too heavy for her 
 single strength. Mr. Weller was a gentleman of great gallantry in his 
 own way, and he no sooner remarked this circumstance than he hastily 
 rose from the large stone, and advanced towards her. 
 
 " My dear," said Sam, sliding up with an air of great respect, " You'll 
 spfle that vvery pretty figure out o' all perportion if you shake them 
 carpets by yourself. Let me help you." 
 
 The young lady, who had been coyly affecting not to know that a 
 gentleman was so near, turned round as Sam spoke no doubt (indeed 
 she said so, afterwards) to decline this offer from a perfect stranger 
 when instead of speaking, she started back, and uttered a half-suppressed 
 scream. Sam was scarcely less staggered, for in the countenance of the 
 well-shaped female servant, he beheld the very features of his Valentine 
 the pretty housemaid from Mr. Nupkins's. 
 
 " Wy, Mary my dear ! " said Sam. 
 
 " Lauk, Mr. Weller," said Mary, " how you do frighten one !" 
 
 Sam made no verbal answer to this complaint, nor can we precisely 
 say what reply he did make. We merely know that after a short pause 
 Mary said, " Lor do adun Mr. Weller," and that his hat had fallen off 
 a few moments before from both of which tokens we should be disposed 
 to infer that one kiss, or more, had passed between the parties. 
 
 " Why, how did you come here?" said Mary, when the conversation 
 to which this interruption had been offered, was resumed. 
 
 " O' course I came to look arter you, my darlin," replied Mr. Weller; 
 for once permitting his passion to get the better of his veracity. 
 
 " And how did you know I was here ?" inquired Mary. " Who could 
 have told you that I took another service at Ipswich, and that they 
 afterwards moved all the way here ? W ho could have told you that, 
 Mr. Weller?" 
 
 " Ah to be sure," said Sam with a cunning look, " that's the pint. 
 Who could ha' told me ? "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 417 
 
 " It wasn't Mr. Muzzle, was it ? " inquired Mary. 
 
 " Oh no," replied Sam, with a solemn shake of the head, " it warn't 
 him." 
 
 " It must have been the cook," said Mary. 
 
 " O' course it must," said Sam. 
 
 " Well, I never heard the like of that ! " exclaimed Mary. 
 
 " No more did I," said Sam. " But Mary, my dear " here Sam's 
 manner grew extremely affectionate " Mary my dear, I've got another 
 affair in hand as is wery pressin'. There's one o' my governor's friends 
 Mr. Winkle you remember him." 
 
 " Him in the green coat ? " said Mary. " Oh yes, I remember him.* 
 
 " Well," said Sam, " he's in a horrid state o' love ; reg'larly corn- 
 foozled, and done over vith it." 
 
 " Lor ! " interposed Mary. 
 
 " Yes," said Sam ; " but that's nothin' if we could only find out the 
 young 'ooman " and here Sam, with many digressions upon the per- 
 sonal beauty of Mary, and the unspeakable tortures he had experienced 
 since he last saw her, gave a faithful account of Mr. Winkle's present 
 predicament 
 
 " W T ell ! " said Mary, " I never did ! " 
 
 " O' course not," said Sam, " and nobody never did, nor never vill 
 neither ; and here am I a walkin' about like the wanderin' Jew a 
 sportin' character you have perhaps heerd on Mary my dear, as wos 
 alvays doin' a match agin' time, and never vent to sleep looking arter 
 this here Miss Arabella Allen." 
 
 " Miss who?" said Mary, in great astonishment. 
 
 ;< Miss Arabella Allen," said Sam. 
 
 " Goodness gracious !" said Mary, pointing to the garden-door which 
 the sulky groom had locked after him. " Why it's that very house ; 
 she's been living there these six weeks. Their upper housemaid, which 
 is lady's maid too, told me all about it over the wash-house palin's before 
 the. family was out of bed, one mornin'." 
 
 " Wot, the wery next door to you ? " said Sam. 
 
 " The very next," replied Mary. 
 
 Mr. Weller was so deeply overcome at receiving this intelligence that 
 he found it absolutely necessary to cling to his fair informant for sup- 
 port, and divers little love passages had passed between them, before he 
 was sufficiently collected to return to the subject. 
 
 " Veil," said Sam at length, " if this don't beat cock-fightin', nothin' 
 never vill, as the Lord Mayor said ven the chief secretary o' state pro- 
 posed his missis's health arter dinner. That wery next house I Wy, 
 I've got a message to her as I've been a tryin' all day to deliver." 
 
 " Ah," said Mary, " but you can't deliver it now, because she only 
 walks in the garden in the evening, and then only for a very little time ; 
 the never goes out, without the old lady." 
 
 Sam ruminated for a few moments, and finally hit upon the following 
 plan of operations ; that he should return just at dusk the time at 
 which Arabella invariably took her walk and being admitted by Mary 
 into the garden of the house to which she belonged, contrive to scramble
 
 418 rosTHUMOus PAPERS OF 
 
 up the wall, beneath the overhanging boughs of a large pear-tree, which 
 would effectually screen him from observation ; there deliver his mes- 
 sage, and arrange, if possible, an interview on behalf of Mr. Winkle for 
 the ensuing evening at the same hour. Having made this arrangement 
 with great dispatch, he assisted Mary in the long-deferred occupation of 
 shaking the carpets. 
 
 It is not half as innocent a thing as it looks, that shaking" little 
 pieces of carpet at least, there may be no great harm in the shaking, 
 but the folding is a very insidious process. So long as the shaking 
 lasts, and the two parties are kept the carpet's length apart, it is as 
 innocent an amusement as can well be devised, but when the folding 
 begins, and the distance between them gets gradually lessened from one- 
 half its former length to a quarter, and then to an eighth, and then to a 
 sixteenth, and then to a thirty-second if the carpet be long enough, it 
 becomes dangerous. We do not know to a nicety how many pieces of 
 carpet were folded in this instance, but we can venture to state that as 
 many pieces as there were, so many times did Sam kiss the pretty 
 housemaid. 
 
 Mr. Weller regaled himself with moderation at the nearest tavern 
 until it was nearly dusk, and then returned to the lane without the 
 thoroughfare. Having been admitted into the garden by Mary, and re- 
 ceived from that lady sundry admonitions concerning the safety of his 
 limbs and neck, Sam mounted into the pear-tree, to wait until Arabella 
 should come in sight. 
 
 He waited so long without this anxiously-expected event occurring, 
 that he began to think it was not going to take place at ail, when he 
 heard light footsteps upon the gravel, and immediately afterwards beheld 
 Arabella walking pensively down the garden. As soon as she came 
 nearly below the tree, Sam began, by way of gently indicating his pre- 
 sence, to make sundry diabolical noises similar to those which would 
 probably be natural to a person who had been afflicted with a -combina- 
 tion of inflammatory sore throat, croup, and hooping-cough, from his 
 earliest infancy. 
 
 Upon this, the young lady cast a hurried glance towards the spot 
 from whence the dreadful sounds proceeded; and her previous alarm 
 being not at all diminished when she saw a man among the branches, 
 she would most certainly have decamped, and alarmed the house, had not 
 fear fortunately deprived her of the power of moving, and caused her to 
 sink down on a garden-seat which happened by good luck to be near at 
 hand. 
 
 " She's a goin' off," soliloquised Sam in great perplexity. " Wot a 
 thing it is, as these here young creeturs will go a faintin' avay just yen 
 they oughtn't to. Here, young 'ooman, Miss Sawbones, Mrs. Vinkle, 
 don't." 
 
 Whether it was the magic of Mr. Winkle's name, or the coolness of 
 the open air, or some recollection of Mr. Weller's voice, that revived 
 Arabella, matters not. She raised her head and languidly inquired 
 " Who's that, and what do you want?" 
 
 " Hush," said Sam, swinging himself on to the wall, and crouching
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 419 
 
 there in as small a compass as be could reduce himself to, " only me, 
 Miss, only me." 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick's servant ! " said Arabella, earnestly. 
 
 " The wery same, Miss," replied Sam. " Here's Mr. Vinkle reg'larly 
 sewed up vith desperation, Miss." 
 
 te Ah I " said Arabella, drawing nearer the wall. 
 
 " Ah indeed," said Sam. " Ve thought ve should ha' been obliged 
 to straight-veskit him last night; he's been a ravin' all day, and he says 
 if he can't see you afore to-morrow night's over, he vishes he may be 
 somethin'-unpleasanted if he don't drownd hisself." 
 
 " Oh no, no, Mr. Weller," said Arabella, clasping her hands. 
 
 " That's wot he says, Miss," replied Sam coolly. " He's a man of 
 his word, and it's my opinion he'll do it, Miss. He's heerd all about 
 you from the Sawbones in barnacles." 
 
 " From my brother !" said Arabella, having some faint recognition of 
 Sam's description. 
 
 " I don't rightly know which is your brother, Miss," replied Sam. 
 " Is it the dirtiest vun o' the two ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Weller," returned Arabella, " go on. Make haste, 
 pray." 
 
 " Veil Miss," said Sam, " he's heerd all about it from him ; and it's 
 the gov'nor's opinion that if you don't see him wery quick, the Sawbones 
 as we've been a speakin' on, 'nil get as much extra lead in his head as'll 
 rayther damage the dewelopement o' the orgins if they ever put it in 
 spirits artervards." 
 
 " Oh, what can I do to prevent these dreadful quarrels," exclaimed 
 Arabella. 
 
 " It's the suspicion of a priory 'tachment as is the cause of it all," re- 
 plied Sam. " You'd better see him, Miss." 
 
 " But how ? where ? " cried Arabella. " I dare not leave the house 
 alone. My brother is so unkind, so unreasonable. I know how strange 
 my talking thus to you must appear, Mr. Weller, but I am very, very un- 
 happy " and here poor Arabella wept so bitterly, that Sam grew 
 chivalrous. 
 
 " It may seem wery strange talkin' to me about these here affairs, 
 Miss," said Sam with great vehemence ; " but all I can say is, that I'm 
 not only ready but villin' to do anythin' as'll make matters agreeable ; 
 and if chuckin* either o' them Sawbones out o' winder 'ull do it, I'm the 
 man." As Sam Weller said this, he tucked up his wristbands, at the 
 imminent hazard of falling off the wall in so doing, to intimate his rea- 
 diness to set to work immediately. 
 
 Flattering as these professions of good feeling were, Arabella reso- 
 lutely declined (most unaccountably, as Sam thought.) to avail herself 
 of them. For some time she strenuously refused to grant Mr. Winkle 
 the interview Sam had so pathetically requested ; but at length, when 
 the conversation threatened to be interrupted by the unwelcome arrival 
 of a third party, she hurriedly gave him to understand, with many pro- 
 fessions of gratitude, that it was barely possible she might be in the 
 
 H H
 
 420 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 garden an hour later, next evening. Sam understood this perfectly 
 well, and Arabella, bestowing upon him one of her sweetest smiles, 
 tripped gracefully away, leaving Mr. Weller in a state of very great 
 admiration of her charms, both personal and mental. 
 
 Having descended in safety from the wall, and not forgotten to de- 
 vote a few moments to his own particular business in the same depart- 
 ment, Mr. Weller then made the best of his way back to the Bush, 
 where his prolonged absence had occasioned much speculation and some 
 alarm. 
 
 " We must he careful," said Mr. Pickwick, after listening atten- 
 tively to Sam's tale, " not for our own sakes, but for that of the young 
 lady. We must be very cautious." 
 
 " We!" said Mr. Winkle, with marked emphasis. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's momentary look of indignation at the tone of this 
 remark, subsided into his characteristic expression of benevolence, as 
 he replied 
 
 " We, Sir ! I shall accompany you." 
 
 " You ! " said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " I," replied Mr. Pickwick, mildly. " In affording you this inter- 
 view, the young lady has taken a natural, perhaps, but still a very im- 
 prudent step. If I am present at the meeting a mutual friend, who 
 is old enough to be the father of both parties the voice of calumny 
 can never be raised against her, hereafter." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's eyes lightened with honest exultation at his own 
 foresight, as he spoke thus. Mr. Winkle was touched at this little 
 trait of his delicate respect for the young protegee of his friend, and 
 took his hand with a feeling of regard akin to veneration. 
 
 You shall go," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " I will," said Mr. Pickwick. " Sam, have my great-coat and shawl 
 ready, and order a conveyance to be at the door to-morrow evening, 
 rather earlier than is absolutely necessary, in order that we may be in 
 good time." 
 
 Mr. Weller louched his hat, as an earnest of his obedience, and with- 
 drew to make all needful preparations for the expedition. 
 
 The coach was punctual to the time appointed ; and Mr. Weller, after 
 duly installing Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle inside, took his seat on 
 the box by the driver. They alighted, as had been agreed on, about a 
 quarter of a mile from the place of rendezvous, and desiring the coach- 
 man to await their return, proceeded the remaining distance on foot. 
 
 It was at this stage of the undertaking that Mr. Pickwick, with 
 many smiles and various other indications of great self satisfaction, 
 produced from one of his coat pockets a dark lantern, with which he 
 had specially provided himself for the occasion, and the great mechani- 
 cal beauty of which, he proceeded to explain to Mr. Winkle, as they 
 walked along, to the no small surprise of the few stragglers they met. 
 
 " I should have been the better for something of this kind, in my 
 last garden expedition, at night ; eh, Sam ? " said Mr. Pickwick, look- 
 ing good-humouredly round at his follower, who was trudging behind.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 421 
 
 " Wery nice things, if they 're managed properly, Sir," replied Mr. 
 Weller ; " but when you don't want to be seen, I think they're 
 rayther more useful arter the candle 's gone out, than ven it 's alight." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick appeared struck by Sam's remark, for he put the lan- 
 tern into his pocket again, and they walked on in silence. 
 
 " Down here, Sir/' said Sam. " Let me lead the vay. This is the 
 lane, Sir." 
 
 Down the lane they went, and dark enough it was. Mr. Pickwick 
 brought out the lantern once or twice as they groped their way along, 
 and threw a very brilliant little tunnel of light before them, about a 
 foot in diameter. It was very pretty to look at, but seemed to have 
 the effect of rendering surrounding objects rather darker than before. 
 
 At length they arrived at the large stone, and here Sam recom- 
 mended his master and Mr. Winkle to seat themselves, while he 
 reconnoitred, and ascertained whether Mary was yet in waiting. 
 
 After an absence of five or ten minutes, Sam returned, to say that 
 the gate was opened, and all quiet. Following him with stealthy tread, 
 Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Winkle soon found themselves in the garden. 
 Here everybody said, " Hush ! " a good many times ; and that being 
 done, no one seemed to have any very distinct apprehension of what 
 was to be done next. 
 
 " Is Miss Allen in the garden yet, Mary ? " inquired Mr. W T inkle, 
 much agitated. 
 
 " I don't know, Sir," replied the pretty housemaid. " The best 
 thing to be done. Sir, will be for Mr. Weller to give you a hoist up 
 into the tree, and perhaps Mr. Pickwick will have the goodness to see 
 that nobody comes up the lane, while I watch at the other end of the 
 garden. Goodness gracious, what's that? " 
 
 " That 'ere blessed lantern 'ull be the death on us all," exclaimed 
 Sam, peevishly. " Take care wot you're a doin' on, Sir, you're a 
 sendin' a blaze o* light, right into the back parlor vinder." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Mr. Pickwick, turning hastily aside, " I didn't 
 mean to do that." 
 
 " Now it's in the next house, Sir," remonstrated Sam. 
 
 " Bless my heart ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, turning round again. 
 
 " Now it's in the stable, and they'll think the place is a' fire," said 
 Sara. " Shut it up, Sir, can't you ?" 
 
 " It's the most extraordinary lantern I ever met with, in all my life I " 
 exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, greatly bewildered by the effects he had so 
 unintentionally produced. " I never saw such a powerful reflector." 
 
 " It '11 be vun too powerful for us, if you keep blazin' avay in that 
 manner, Sir," replied Sam, as Mr. Pickwick, after various unsuccessful 
 efforts, managed to close the slide. " There's the young lady's foot- 
 steps. Now, Mr. Vinkle, Sir, up vith you." 
 
 " Stop, stop ! " said Mr. Pickwick, " I must speak to her first. Help 
 me up, Sam." 
 
 " Gently, Sir," said Sam, planting his head against the wall, and 
 making a platform of his back. " Step a top o' that 'ere flower-pot, 
 Sir. Now then, up vith you." 
 
 H H 2
 
 422 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I'm afraid I shall hurt you, Sara," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Never mind me, Sir," replied Sam. "Lend him a hand, Mr. 
 Vinkle, Sir. Steady, Sir, steady ; that's the time o' day." 
 
 As Sam spoke, Mr. Pickwick, by exertions almost supernatural in a 
 gentleman of his years and weight, contrived to get upon Sam's back ; 
 and Sam gently raising himself up, and Mr. Pickwick holding on fast 
 by the top of the wall, while Mr. Winkle clasped him tight by the legs, 
 they contrived by these means to bring his spectacles just above the 
 level of the coping. 
 
 " My dear," said Mr. Pickwick, looking over the wall, and catching 
 sight of Arabella, on the other side, " Don't be frightened, my dear, 
 'tis only me." 
 
 " Oh pray go away, Mr. Pickwick," said Arabella. " Tell them all 
 to go away, I am so dreadfully frightened. Dear, dear Mr. Pickwick, 
 don't stop there. You'll fall down and kill yourself, I know you will." 
 
 "Now pray don't alarm yourself, my dear," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 soothingly. "There is not the least cause for fear, I assure you. 
 Stand firm, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, looking down. 
 
 "All right, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. "Don't be longer than you 
 can conweniently help, Sir. You're rayther heavy." 
 
 " Only another moment, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I merely wished you to know, my dear, that I should not have 
 allowed my young friend to see you in this clandestine way, if the 
 situation in which you are placed had left him any alternative ; and 
 lest the impropriety of this step should cause you any uneasiness, my 
 love, it may be a satisfaction to you, to know that I am present : that's 
 all, my dear." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Pickwick, I am very much obliged to you for your 
 kindness and consideration," replied Arabella, drying her tears with 
 her handkerchief. She would probably have said much more, had not 
 Mr. Pickwick's head disappeared with great swiftness, in consequence 
 of a false step on Sam's shoulder, which brought him suddenly to the 
 ground. He was up again in an instant, however ; and bidding Mr. 
 Winkle make haste and get the interview over, ran out into the lane 
 to keep watch, with all the courage and ardour of a youth. Mr. Win- 
 kle himself, inspired by the occasion, was on the wall in a moment, 
 merely pausing to request Sam to be careful of his master. 
 
 " I'll take care on him, Sir," replied Sam. "Leave him to me." 
 
 " Where is he ? What's he doing, Sam ?" inquired Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Bless his old gaiters," rejoined Sam, looking out at the garden- 
 door. " He's a keepin' guard in the lane vith that 'ere dark lantern 
 like a amiable Guy Fawkes. I never see such a fine creetur in my 
 days. Blessed if I don't think his heart must ha' been born five-and- 
 twenty year arter his body, at least ! " 
 
 Mr. Winkle stayed not to hear the encomium upon his friend. He 
 had dropped from the wall ; thrown himself at Arabella's feet ; and by 
 this time was pleading the sincerity of his passion with an eloquence 
 worthy even of Mr. Pickwick himself. 
 
 While these things were going on in the open air, an elderly gentle-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 423 
 
 man of scientific attainments was seated in his library, two or three 
 houses off, writing; a philosophical treatise, and ever and anon moisten- 
 ing; his clay and his labours with a glass of claret from a venerable- 
 looking- bottle which stood by his side. In the agonies of composition, 
 the elderly gentleman looked sometimes at the carpet, sometimes at 
 the ceiling, and sometimes at the wall ; and when neither carpet, 
 ceiling, nor wall afforded the requisite degree of inspiration, he looked 
 out of the window. 
 
 In one of these pauses of invention, the scientific gentleman was 
 gazing abstractedly on the thick darkness outside, when he was very 
 much surprised by observing a most brilliant light glide through the 
 air a short distance above the ground, and almost instantaneously 
 vanish. After a short time the phenomenon was repeated, not once 
 or twice, but several times : at last the scientific gentleman, laying 
 down his pen, began to consider to what natural causes these appear- 
 ances were to be assigned. 
 
 They were not meteors ; they were too low. They were not glow- 
 worms ; they were too high. They were not will-o'-the-wisps : they 
 .were not fire-flies; they were not fire-works. What could they be? 
 Some extraordinary and wonderful phenomenon of nature, which no 
 philosopher had ever seen before ; something which it had been re- 
 served for him alone to discover, and which he should immortalise 
 his name by chronicling for the benefit of posterity. Full of this idea, 
 the scientific gentleman seized his pen again, and committed to paper 
 sundry notes of these unparalleled appearances, with the date, day, 
 hour, minute, and precise second at which they were visible, all of 
 which were to form the data of a voluminous treatise of great 
 research and deep learning, which should astonish all the atmospherical 
 wiseacres that ever drew breath in any part of the civilised globe. 
 
 He threw himself back in his easy chair, wrapt in contemplations of 
 his future greatness. The mysterious light appeared more brilliantly 
 than before ; dancing to all appearance up and down the lane, crossing 
 from side to side, and moving in an orbit as eccentric as comets them- 
 selves. 
 
 The scientific gentleman was a bachelor. He had no wife to call in 
 and astonish, so he rang the bell for his servant. 
 
 " Pruffle," said the scientific gentleman, " there is something very 
 extraordinary in the air to-night. Did you see that?" said tbe scien- 
 tific gentleman, pointing out of the window, as the light again became 
 visible. 
 
 " Yes I did, Sir." 
 
 " What do you think of it, Pruffle?" 
 
 " Think of it, Sir ?" 
 
 " Yes. You have been bred up in the country. What should you 
 say was the cause of those lights, now ?'' 
 
 The scientific gentleman smilingly anticipated Pruffle's reply that he 
 could assign no cause for them at all. Pruffle meditated. 
 
 " I should say it was thieves, Sir," said Pruffle at length.
 
 424 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " You're a fool, and may go down stairs " said the scientific gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Thank you Sir" said Pruffle. And down he went. 
 But the scientific gentleman could not rest under the idea of the in- 
 genious treatise he had projected, being lost to the world, which must 
 inevitably be the case, if the speculation of the ingenious Mr. Pruffle 
 were not stifled in its birth. He put on his hat and walked quickly 
 down the garden, determined to investigate the matter to the very 
 bottom. 
 
 Now, shortly before the scientific gentleman'walked out into the gar- 
 den, Mr. Pickwick had run down the lane as fast as he could, to con- 
 vey a false alarm that somebody was coming that way, occasionally 
 drawing back the slide of the dark lantern to keep himself from the 
 ditch. The alarm was no sooner given, than Mr. Winkle scrambled 
 back over the wall, and Arabella ran into the house ; the garden gate 
 was shut, and the three adventurers were making the best of their way 
 down the lane, when they were startled by the scientific gentleman un- 
 locking his garden gate. 
 
 " Hold hard," whispered Sam, who was of course the first of the party. 
 " Show a light for just vun second, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick did as he was desired, and Sam seeing a man's head 
 peeping out very cautiously, within half a yard of his own, gave it a 
 gentle tap with his clenched fist, which knocked it with a hollow sound 
 against the gate. Having performed this feat with great suddenness 
 and dexterity, Mr. Weller caught Mr. Pickwick up on his back, and 
 followed Mr. Winkle down the lane at a pace which, considering the 
 burden he carried, was perfectly astonishing. 
 
 " Have you got your vind back agin, Sir?" enquired Sam when they 
 had reached the end. 
 
 " Quite quite now," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Then come along, Sir," said Sam, setting his master on his feet 
 again. " Come betveen us, Sir. Not half a mile to run. Think you're 
 vinnin a cup, Sir. Now for it." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Mr. Pickwick made the very best use of his legs, 
 and it may be confidently stated that a pair of black gaiters never got 
 over the ground in better style than did those of Mr. Pickwick on this 
 memorable occasion. 
 
 The coach was waiting, the horses were fresh, the roads were good, 
 and the driver was willing. The whole party arrived in safety at the 
 Bush before Mr. Pickwick had recovered his breath. 
 
 " In vith you at once Sir," said Sam, as he helped his master out. 
 " Don't stop a second in the street, arter tfiat 'ere exercise. Beg your 
 pardon, Sir," continued Sam, touching his hat as Mr. Winkle descended, 
 ' Hope there warn't a priory 'tachraent, Sir." 
 
 Mr. Winkle grasped his humble friend by the hand, and whispered in 
 his ear, " It's all right, Sam ; quite right " upon which Mr. Weller 
 struck three distinct blows upon his nose in token of intelligence; 
 smiled, winked, and proceeded to put the steps up with a countenance
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 425 
 
 expressive of lively satisfaction. As to the scientific gentleman, he 
 demonstrated in a masterly treatise that these wonderful lights were the 
 effect of electricity, and clearly proved the same by detailing how a flash 
 of fire danced before his eyes when he put his head out of the gate, and 
 how he received a shock which stunned him for a full quarter of an 
 hour afterwards ; which demonstration delighted all the Scientific Asso- 
 ciations beyond measure, and caused him to be considered a light of 
 science ever afterwards. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 INTRODUCES MR. PICKWICK TO A NEW, AND IT IS HOPED NOT 
 UNINTERESTING SCENE, IN THE GREAT DRAMA OF LIFE. 
 
 THE remainder of the period which Mr. Pickwick had assigned as 
 the duration of the stay at Bath, passed over without the occurrence of 
 anything material. Trinity Term commenced. On the expiration, 
 of its first week, Mr. Pickwick and his friends returned to London, 
 and the former gentleman, attended of course by Sam, straightway 
 repaired to his old quarters at the George and Vulture. 
 
 On the third morning after their arrival, just as all the clocks in the 
 city were striking nine individually, and somewhere about nine hundred 
 collectively, Sam was taking the air in George Yard, when a queer sort 
 of fresh painted vehicle drove up, out of which there jumped with great 
 agility, throwing the reins to a stout man who sat beside him, a queer 
 sort of gentleman, who seemed made for the vehicle, and the vehicle for 
 him. 
 
 The vehicle was not exactly a gig, neither was it a stanhope. It was 
 not what is currently denominated a dog-cart, neither was it a taxed 
 cart, nor a chaise-cart, nor a guillotined cabriolet ; and yet it had some- 
 thing of the character of each and every of these machines. It was painted 
 a bright yellow, with the shafts and wheels picked out in black ; and the 
 driver sat in the orthodox sporting style, on cushions piled about two 
 feet above the rail. The horse was a bay, a well-looking animal enough; 
 but with something of a flash and dog-fighting air about him, neverthe 
 less, which accorded admirably, both with the vehicle and his master. 
 
 The master himself was a man of about forty, with black hair, and 
 carefully combed whiskers ; dressed in a particularly gorgeous manner, 
 with plenty of articles of jewellery about him all about three sizes 
 larger than those which are usually worn by gentlemen and a rough 
 great-coat to crown the whole. Into one pocket of this great-coat, he 
 thrust his left hand the moment he dismounted, while from the other 
 he drew forth, with his right, a very. bright and glaring silk handkerchief, 
 with which he whisked a speck or two of dust from his boots, and then, 
 crumpling it in his hand, swaggered up the court. 
 
 It had not escaped Sam's attention that, when this person dismounted,
 
 41ib POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 a shabby-looking man in a brown great-coat shorn of divers buttons, 
 who had been previously slinking about on the opposite side of the 
 way, crossed over, and remained stationary close by. Having something 
 more than a suspicion of the object, of the gentleman's visit, Sam pre- 
 ceded him to the George and Vulture, and, turning sharp round, planted 
 himself in the centre of the doorway. 
 
 *' Now, my fine fellow," said the man in the rough coat, in an impe- 
 rious tone, attempting, at the same time, to push his way past. 
 
 "Now, Sir, wot's the matter?" replied Sam, returning the push with 
 compound interest. 
 
 ' Come, none of this, my man ; this won't do with me," said the owner 
 of the rough coat, raising his voice, and turning very white " Here, 
 Smouch !" 
 
 " Well, wot's amiss here? " growled the man in the brown coat, who 
 had been gradually sneaking up the court during this short dialogue. 
 
 " Only some insolence of this young man's," said the principal, giving 
 Sam another push. 
 
 " Come, none o' this gammon," growled Smouch, giving him another, 
 and a harder one. 
 
 This last push had the effect which it was intended by the experienced 
 Mr. Smouch to produce, for while Sam, anxious to return the compli- 
 ment, was grinding that gentleman's body against the doorpost, the 
 principal crept past, and made his way to the bar, whither Sam, after 
 bandying a few epithetical remarks with Mr. Smouch, followed at once. 
 
 " Good morning, my dear," said the principal, addressing the young 
 lady in the bar, with Botany Bay ease, and New South Wales gentility ; 
 "which is Mr. Pickwick's room, my dear?" 
 
 " Show him up," said the bar- maid to a waiter, without deigning 
 another look at the exqiiisite, in reply to his inquiry. 
 
 The waiter led the way up stairs as he was desired, and the man in 
 the rough coat followed, with Sam behind him, who, in his progress 
 up the staircase, indulged in sundry gestures indicative of supreme 
 contempt and defiance, to the unspeakable gratification of the servants 
 and other lookers on. Mr. Smoucb, who was troubled with a hoarse 
 cough, remained below, and expectorated in the passage. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was fast asleep in bed, when his early visitor, followed 
 by Sam, entered the room. The noise they made, in so doing, awoke 
 him. 
 
 " Shaving water, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, from within the curtains. 
 
 " Shave you directly, Mr. Pickwick," said the visitor, drawing one of 
 them back from the bed's head. " I've got an execution against you, 
 at the suit of Bardell. Here's the warrant. Common Pleas. Here's 
 my card. I suppose you'll come over to my house." And giving 
 Mr. Pickwick a friendly tap on the shoulder, the sheriff's officer for 
 such he was threw his card on the counterpane, and pulled a gold 
 toothpick from his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 " Namby's the name," said the sheriff's deputy, as Mr. Pickwick 
 took his spectacles from under the pillow, and put them on, to read the 
 card. " Namby, Bell Alley, Coleman Street."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 427 
 
 At this point, Sam Weiler, who had had his eyes fixed hitherto on 
 Mr. Namby's shining beaver, interfered 
 
 " Are you a Quaker?" said Sara. 
 
 "I'll let you know who I am, before I've done with you," replied the 
 indignant officer. " I'll teach you manners, my fine fellow, one of these 
 fine mornings." 
 
 " Thankee," said Sam. " I'll do the same for you. Take your hat 
 off." With this, Mr. Weiler, in the most dexterous manner, knocked 
 Mr. Namby's hat to the other side of the room with such violence, that 
 he had very nearly caused him to swallow the gold toothpick into the 
 bargain. 
 
 " Observe this, Mr. Pickwick," said the disconcerted officer, gasping 
 for breath. " I've been assaulted in the execution of my dooty by 
 your servant in your chamber. I'm in bodily fear. I call you to 
 witness this." 
 
 " Don't witness nothin', Sir," interposed Sam. " Shut your eyes 
 up tight, Sir, I'd pitch him out o' winder, only he couldn't fall far 
 enough, 'cause o' the leads outside." 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick in an angry voice, as his attendant made 
 various demonstrations of hostilities, " if you say another word, or offer 
 the slightest interference with this person, I discharge you that instant." 
 
 " But, Sir !" said Sara. 
 
 " Hold your tongue," interposed Mr. Pickwick; " Take that hat 
 up again." 
 
 But this, Sam flatly and positively refused to do ; and, after he had been 
 severely reprimanded by his master, the officer, being in a hurry, con- 
 descended to pick it up himself, venting a great variety of threats against 
 Sam meanwhile, which that gentleman received with perfect composure, 
 merely observing that if Mr. Namby would have the goodness to put 
 his hat on again, he would knock it into the latter end of next week. 
 Mr. Namby, perhaps thinking that such a process might, be productive of 
 inconvenience to himself, declined to offer the temptation, and soon 
 after called up Smouch. Having informed him that the capture was 
 made, and that he was to wait for the prisoner until he should have 
 finished dressing, Namby then swaggered out, and drove away. Smouch 
 requesting Mr. Pickwick, in a surly manner, " to be as alive as he could, 
 for it was a busy time," drew up a chair by the door, and sat there till 
 he had finished dressing. Sam was then dispatched for a hackney 
 coach, and in it the triumvirate proceeded to Coleman Street. It was 
 fortunate the distance was short, for Mr. Smouch, besides possessing 
 no very enchanting conversational powers, was rendered a decidedly 
 unpleasant companion in a limited space, by the physical weakness to 
 which we have elsewhere adverted. 
 
 The coach having turned into a very narrow and dark street, stopped 
 tefore a house with iron bars to all the windows ; the door-posts of 
 which, were graced by the name and title of " Namby, Officer to the 
 Sheriffs of London ;" the inner gate having been opened by a gentle- 
 man who might have passed for a neglected twin brother of Mr.
 
 428 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Srnoucb, and who was endowed with a large key for the purpose, Mr. 
 Pickwick was shown into the " coffee-room." 
 
 This coffee-room was a front parlour, the principal features of which, 
 were fresh sand and stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Pickwick bowed to the 
 three persons who were seated in it when he entered, and having dis- 
 patched Sam for Perker, withdrew into an obscure corner, and from 
 thence looked with some curiosity upon his new companions. 
 
 One of these was a mere boy of nineteen or twenty, who, though it 
 was yet barely ten o'clock, was drinking gin and water, and smoking a 
 cigar, amusements to which, judging from his inflamed countenance, 
 he had devoted himself pretty constantly for the last year or two of 
 his life. Opposite him, engaged in stirring the fire with the toe of his 
 right boot, was a coarse, vulgar young man of about thirty, with a 
 sallow face and harsh voice ; evidently possessed of that knowledge of 
 the world, and captivating freedom of manner, which is to be acquired 
 in public-house parlours, and at low billiard tables. The third tenant 
 of the apartment was a middle aged man in a very old suit of black, 
 who looked pale and haggard, and paced up and down the room inces- 
 santly : stopping now and then to look with great anxiety out of the 
 window as if he expected somebody, and then resuming his walk. 
 
 " You'd better have the loan of my razor this morning, Mr. Ayres- 
 leigh," said the man who was stirring the fire, tipping the wink to his 
 friend the boy. 
 
 " Thank you, no, I shan't want it ; I expect I shall be out, in the 
 course of an hour or so," replied the other in a hurried manner. Then 
 walking again up to the window, and once more returning disappointed, 
 he sighed deeply, and left the room ; upon which the other two burst 
 out into a loud laugh. 
 
 " Well, I never saw such a game as that," said the gentleman who 
 had offered the razor, whose name appeared to be Price. " Never !" 
 Mr. Price confirmed the assertion with an oath, and then laughed 
 again, when of course the boy (who thought his companion one of 
 the most dashing fellows alive), laughed also. 
 
 " You'd hardly think, would you now," said Price, turning towards 
 Mr. Pickwick, "that that chap's been here a week yesterday, and 
 never once shaved himself yet, because he feels so certain he's going out 
 in half an hour's time, that he thinks he may as well put it off till he 
 gets home ? " 
 
 " Poor man !" said Mr. Pickwick. " Are his chances of getting out 
 of his difficulties really so great ?" 
 
 " Chances be d d,," replied Price ; " he hasn't half the ghost of 
 one. I wouldn't give that for his chance of walking about the streets 
 this time ten years." With this, Mr. Price snapped his fingers con- 
 temptuously, and rang the bell. 
 
 " Give me a sheet of paper, Crookey," said Mr. Price to the atten- 
 dant, who in dress and general appearance looked something between 
 a bankrupt grazier, and a drover in a state of insolvency ; " and a 
 glass of brandy and water, Crookey, d'ye hear ? I'm going to write
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 420 
 
 to ray father, and I must have a stimulant, or I shan't be able to pitch 
 it strong enough into the old boy." At this facetious speech, the 
 young boy, it is almost needless to say, was fairly convulsed. 
 
 '' That's right," said Mr. Price. " Never say die. All fun, ain't it ?" 
 
 " Prime ! " said the young gentleman. 
 
 " You've some spirit about you, you have," said Price. " You've 
 seen something of life." 
 
 " I rather think I have !" replied the boy. He had looked at it 
 through the dirty panes of glass in a bar door. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick feeling not a little disgusted with this dialogue, as 
 well as with the air and manner of the two beings by whom it had been 
 carried on, was about to inquire whether he could not be accommodated 
 with a private sitting room, when two or three strangers of genteel 
 appearance entered, at sight of whom the boy threw his cigar into the 
 fire, and whispering to Mr. Price, that they had come to " make it all 
 right" for him, joined them at a table in the further end of the room. 
 
 It would appear, however, that matters were not going to be made 
 all right quite so speedily as the young gentleman anticipated, for a very 
 long conversation ensued, of which Mr. Pickwick could not avoid hear- 
 ing certain angry fragments regarding dissolute conduct, and repeated 
 forgiveness. At last there were very distinct allusions made by the 
 oldest gentleman of the party to one Whitecross-street, at which the 
 young gentleman, notwithstanding his primeness and his spirit, and his 
 knowledge of life into the bargain, reclined his head upon the table and 
 howled dismally. 
 
 Very much satisfied with this sudden bringing down of the youth's 
 valour, and effectual lowering of his tone, Mr. Pickwick rang the bell, 
 and was shown at his own request into a private room furnished with a 
 carpet, table, chairs, sideboard and sofa, and ornamented with a looking 
 glass, and various old prints. Here he had the advantage of hearing 
 Mrs. Namby's performance on a square piano over head, while the break- 
 fast was getting ready ; and when it came, Mr. Perker arrived also. 
 
 " Aha, my dear Sir," said the little man, " nailed at last, eh ? Come, 
 come, I'm not sorry for it either, because now you'll see the absurdity 
 of this conduct. I've noted down the amount of the taxed costs and 
 damages for which the casa was issued, and we had better settle at once 
 and lose no time. Namby is come home by this time, I dare say. 
 What say you, my dear Sir, shall I draw a cheque, or will you?" The 
 little man rubbed his hands with affected cheerfulness as he said this, but 
 glancing at Mr. Pickwick's countenance, could not forbear at the same 
 time casting a desponding look towards Sam Weller. 
 
 " Perker," said Mr. Pickwick, " let me hear no more of this, I beg. 
 I see no advantage in staying here, so I shall go to prison to- 
 night." .< 
 
 " You can't go to Whitecross street, my dear Sir," said Perker. 
 " Impossible ! There are sixty beds in a ward, and the bolt's on, sixteen 
 hours out of the four-and-twenty." 
 
 " I should rather go to some other place of confinement if I can," 
 said Mr. Pickwick. " If not I must make the best I can of that."
 
 430 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " You can go to the Fleet, my dear Sir, if you're determined to go 
 somewhere," said Perker. 
 
 "That'll do," said Mr. Pickwick. "I'll go there directly I've 
 finished my breakfast." 
 
 " Stop, stop, my dear Sir ; not the least occasion for being in such a 
 violent hurry to get into a place that most other men are as eager to 
 get out of," said the good-natured little attorney. " We must have 
 a habeas corpus. There'll be no judge at chambers till four o'clock 
 this afternoon. You must wait till then." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Pickwick, with unmoved patience. " Then 
 we will have a chop here, at two. See about it Sam, and tell them to 
 be punctual." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick remaining firm, despite all the remonstrances and 
 arguments of Perker, the chops appeared and disappeared in due 
 course ; he was then put into another hackney coach, and carried off 
 to Chancery Lane ; after waiting half an hour or so for Mr. Namby, 
 who had a select dinner party, and could on no account be disturbed 
 before. 
 
 There were two judges in attendance at Sergeant's Inn one King's 
 Bench, and one Common Pleas, and a great deal of business appeared 
 to be transacting before them, if the number of lawyer's, clerks who 
 were hurrying in and out with bundles of papers, afforded any test. 
 When they reached the low archway which forms the entrance to the 
 Inn, Perker was detained a few moments parleying with the coachman 
 about the fare and the change ; and Mr. Pickwick, stepping to one 
 side to be out of the way of the stream of people that were pouring in 
 and out, looked about him with some curiosity. 
 
 The people that attracted his attention most, were three or four 
 men of shabby-genteel appearance, who touched their hats to many of 
 the attorneys who passed, and seemed to have some business there, 
 the nature of which Mr. Pickwick could not divine. They were curious 
 looking fellows. One was a slim and rather lame man in rusty black, 
 and a white neckerchief; another was a stout, burly person, dressed in 
 the same apparel, with a great reddish-black cloth round his neck ; a 
 third was a little weazen drunken-looking body with a pimply face. 
 They were loitering about, with their hands behind them, and now and 
 then, with an anxious countenance, whispered something in the ear of 
 some of the gentlemen with papers as they hurried by. Mr. Pickwick 
 remembered to have very often observed them lounging under the 
 archway when he had been walking past, and his curiosity was quite 
 excited to know to what branch of the profession these dingy-looking 
 loungers could possibly belong. 
 
 He was just about to propound the question to Namby, who kept 
 close beside him sucking a large gold ring on his little finger, when 
 Perker bustled up, and observing that there was no time to lose, led 
 the way into the Inn. As Mr. Pickwick followed, the lame man 
 Stepped up to him, and civilly touching his hat, held out a written 
 card, which Mr. Pickwick not wishing to hurt the man's feelings by 
 refusing, courteously accepted and deposited in his waistcoat pocket.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 431 
 
 "Now," said Perker, turning round before he entered one of the 
 offices, to see that his companions were close behind him. " In here, 
 my dear Sir. Hallo, what do you want ? " 
 
 This last question was addressed to the lame man, who unobserved 
 by Mr. Pickwick, made one of the party. In reply to it, the lame man 
 touched his hat again with all imaginable politeness, and motioned to- 
 wards Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No, no," said Perker with a smile. " We don't want you, my dear 
 friend, we don't want you." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Sir," said the lame man. " The gentleman 
 took my card. I hope you will employ me, Sir. The gentleman 
 nodded to me. I'll be judged by the gentleman himself. You nodded 
 to me, Sir?" 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, nonsense. You didn't nod to any body, Pickwick ? 
 A mistake, a mistake," said Perker. 
 
 " The gentleman handed me his card," replied Mr. Pickwick, pro- 
 ducing it from his waistcoat pocket. " I accepted it as the gentleman 
 seemed to wish it in fact I had some curiosity to look at it when I 
 should be at leisure. I " 
 
 The little attorney burst into a loud laugh, and returning the card 
 to the lame man, informing him it was all a mistake, whispered 
 to Mr. Pickwick as the man turned away in dudgeon, that he was 
 only a bail. 
 
 ' ' A what !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " A bail," replied Perker. 
 
 A bail I " 
 
 " Yes, my dear Sir, half a dozen of 'em here. Bail you to any 
 amount, and only charge half-a-crown. Curious trade isn't it ?" said 
 Perker, regaling himself with a pinch of snuff. 
 
 " What ! am I to understand that these men earn a livelihood by 
 waiting about here, to perjure themselves before the judges of the land, 
 at the rate of half-a-crown a crime ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, quite 
 aghast at the disclosure. 
 
 " Why, I don't exactly know about the perjury, my dear Sir," replied 
 the little gentleman. " Harsh word, my dear Sir, very harsh word 
 indeed. It's a legal fiction, my dear Sir, nothing more." Saying 
 which, the attorney shrugged his shoulders, smiled, took a second 
 pinch of snuff, and led the way into the office of the judge's clerk. 
 
 This was a room of specially dirty appearance, with a very low 
 ceiling- and old panneled walls; and so badly lighted, that although it 
 was broad day outside, great tallow candles were burning on the desks. 
 At one end, was a door leading to the judge's private apartment, round 
 which were congregated a crowd of attorneys and managing clerks, who 
 were called in, in the order in which their respective appointments 
 stood upon the file. Every time this door was opened to let a party 
 out, the next party made a violent rush to get in ; and as in addition to 
 the numerous dialogues which passed between the gentlemen who were 
 waiting to see the judge, a variety of rather personal squabbles ensued
 
 432 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OJ 
 
 between the greater part of those who had seen him, there was as 
 much noise as could well be raised in an apartment of such condned 
 dimensions. 
 
 Nor were the conversations of these gentlemen the only sounds that 
 broke upon the ear. Standing on a box behind a wooden bar at another 
 end of the room was a clerk in spectacles, who was " taking the affida- 
 vits," large batches of which were from time to time carried into the 
 private room by another clerk for the judge's signature. There were 
 a large number of attorneys' clerks to be sworn, and it being a moral 
 impossibility to swear them all at once, the struggles of these gentle- 
 men to reach the clerk in spectacles, were like those of a crowd to get 
 in at the pit door of a theatre when His Most Gracious Majesty 
 honours it with his presence. Another functionary, from time to 
 time exercised his lungs in calling over the names of those who had 
 been sworn, for the purpose of restoring to them their affidavits after 
 they had been signed by the judge, which gave rise to a few more 
 scuffles ; and all these things going on at the same time, occasioned as 
 much bustle as the most active and excitable person could desire to 
 behold. There were yet another class of persons those who were 
 waiting to attend summonses their employers had taken out, which 
 it was optional to the attorney on the opposite side to attend or not, 
 and whose business it was from time to time to cry out the opposite 
 attorney's name, to make certain that he was not in attendance without 
 their knowledge. 
 
 For example. Leaning against the wall, close beside the seat Mr. 
 Pickwick had taken, was an office lad of fourteen, with a tenor voice, 
 and near him a common-law clerk with a bass one. 
 
 A clerk hurried in with a bundle of papers, and stared about him. 
 
 ** Sniggle and Blink," cried the tenor. 
 
 " Porkin and Snob," growled the bass. 
 
 " Stumpy and Deacon," said the new comer. 
 
 Nobody answered ; and the next man who came in, was hailed by the 
 whole three, and he in his turn shouted for another firm, and then 
 somebody else roared in a loud voice for another, and so forth. 
 
 All this time, the man in the spectacles was hard at work swearing 
 the clerks ; the oath being invariably administered without any effort at 
 punctuation, and usually in the following terms : 
 
 " Take the book in your right hand this is your name and hand- 
 writing you swear that the contents of this your affidavit are true so 
 help you God a shilling you must get change I haven't got it." 
 
 " Well, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. " I suppose they are getting the 
 habeas corpus ready.'' 
 
 " Yes/' said Sam " and I vish they'd bring out the have-his-carcase. 
 It's wery unpleasant keepin' us vaitin' here. I'd ha' got half a dozen 
 have-his-carcases ready, pack'd up and all, by this time." 
 
 What sort of cumbrous and unmanageable machine, Sam Weller 
 imagined a writ of habeas corpus to be does not appear, for Perker at 
 that moment walked up, and took Mr. Pickwick away.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 433 
 
 The usual forms having been gone through, the body'of Samuel Pick- 
 wick was soon afterwards confided to the custody of the tipstaff, to be 
 by him taken to the Warden of the Fleet Prison, and there detained 
 until the amount of the damages and costs in the action of Bardell 
 against Pickwick was fully paid and satisfied. 
 
 " And that," said Mr. Pickwick laughing, " will be a very long time. 
 Sam, call another hackney coach. Perker, my dear friend, good bye." 
 " I shall go with you, and see you safe there," said Perker. 
 " Indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick, " I would rather go without any 
 other attendant than Sam. As soon as I get settled, I will write and 
 let you know, and I shall expect you immediately. Until then, good 
 bye." 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick said this, he got into the coach which had by this 
 time arrived, followed by the tipstaff. Sam having stationed himself 
 on the box, it rolled away. 
 
 " A most extraordinary man that," said Perker, as he stopped to pull 
 on his gloves. 
 
 " What a bankrupt he'd make, Sir," observed Mr. Lowten, who was 
 standing near. " How he would bother the commissioners I He'd set 
 'em at defiance if they talked of committing him, Sir." 
 
 The attorney did not appear very much delighted with his clerk's pro- 
 fessional estimate of Mr. Pickwick's character, for he walked away without 
 deigning any reply. 
 
 The hackney coach jolted along Fleet Street, as hackney coaches 
 usually do. The horses " went better," the driver said, when they had 
 got anything before them, (they must have gone at a most extraordinary 
 pace when there was nothing,) and so the vehicle kept behind a cart ; 
 when the cart stopped, it stopped, and when the cart went on again, it 
 did the same. Mr. Pickwick sat opposite the tipstaff, and the tipstaff 
 sat with his hat between his knees, whistling a tune, and looking out of 
 the coach-window. 
 
 Time performs wonders, and, by the powerful old gentleman's aid, 
 even a hackney coach gets over half a mile of ground. They stopped 
 at length, and Mr. Pickwick alighted at the gate of the Fleet. 
 
 The tipstaff, just looking over his shoulder to see that his charge was 
 following close at his heels, preceded Mr. Pickwick into the prison ; 
 turning to the left, after they had entered, they passed through an open 
 door into a lobby, from which a heavy gate opposite to that by which 
 they had entered, and which was guarded by a stout turnkey with the 
 key in his hand, led at once into the interior of the prison. 
 
 Here they stopped, while the tipstaff delivered his papers ; and here 
 Mr. Pickwick was apprised that he would remain until he had under- 
 gone the ceremony, known to the initiated, as " sitting for your portrait." 
 
 " Sitting for my portrait!" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Having your likeness taken, Sir," replied the stout turnkey. 
 
 " We're capital hands at likenesses here. Take 'em in no time, and 
 always exact. Walk in, Sir, and make yourself at home." 
 
 Air. Pickwick complied with the invitation, and sat himself down,
 
 434 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 when Mr. Weller, who stationed himself at the back of the chair, whis- 
 pered that the sitting was merely another term for undergoing- an 
 inspection by the different turnkeys, in order that they might know 
 prisoners from visitors. 
 
 " Well, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, " then I wish the artists would 
 come. This is rather a public place." 
 
 " They vont be long, Sir, I des-say," replied Sam. " There's a 
 Dutch clock, Sir." 
 
 " So I see," observed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "And a bird-cage, Sir," said Sam. " Veels vithin veels, a prison in 
 a prison. Ain't it, Sir." 
 
 As Mr. Weller made this philosophical remark, Mr. Pickwick was 
 aware that his sitting had commenced. The stout turnkey having been 
 relieved from the lock, sat down, and looked at him carelessly from 
 time to time, while a long thin man who had relieved him thrust his 
 hands beneath his coat tails, and planting himself opposite, took a good 
 long view of him. A third rather surly-looking gentleman, who had 
 apparently been disturbed at his tea, for he was disposing of the last 
 remnant of a crust and butter when he came in, stationed himself close 
 to Mr. Pickwick; and, resting his hands on his hips, inspected him 
 narrowly, while two others mixed with the group, and studied his 
 features with most intent and thoughtful faces. Mr. Pickwick winced 
 a good deal under the operation, and appeared to sit very uneasily in 
 his chair : but he made no remark to anybody while it was being per- 
 formed not even to Sam, who reclined upon the back of the chair, 
 reflecting, partly on the situation of his master, and partly on the 
 great satisfaction it would have afforded him to make a fierce assault 
 upon all the turnkeys there assembled, one after the other, if it were 
 lawful and peaceable so to do. 
 
 At length the likeness was completed, and Mr. Pickwick was informed, 
 that he might now proceed into the prison. 
 
 " Where am I to sleep to-night ?" enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Why I don't rightly know about to-night," replied the stout turn- 
 key. " You'll be chummed on somebody to-morrow, and then you'll 
 be all snug and comfortable. The first night's generally rather unsettled, 
 but you'll be set all squares to-morrow." 
 
 After some discussion, it was discovered that one of the turnkeys 
 had a bed to let, which Mr. Pickwick could have for that night, and 
 he gladly agreed to hire it. 
 
 " If you'll come with me, I'll show it you, at once," said the man. 
 te It ain't a large 'un ; but it's an out and outer to sleep in. This way, 
 Sir." 
 
 They passed through the inner gate, and descended a short flight of 
 steps. The key was turned after them, and Mr. Pickwick found him- 
 self, for the first time in his life, within the walls of a Debtor's Prison.

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 435 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 . 
 
 WHAT BEFEL MR. PICKWICK WHEN HE GOT INTO THE FLEET; WHAT 
 DEBTORS HE SAW THERE; AND HOW HE PASSED THE NIGHT. 
 
 MR. TOM ROKER, the gentleman who had accompanied Mr. Pickwick 
 into the prison, turned sharp round to the right when he got to the 
 bottom of the little flight of steps, and led the way through an iron 
 gate which stood open, and up another short flight of steps, into a long 
 narrow gallery, dirty and low, paved with stone, and very dimly lighted 
 by a window at each remote end. 
 
 " This," said the gentleman, thrusting his hands into his pockets, 
 and looking carelessly over his shoulder to Mr. Pickwick, " This here 
 is the hall flight." 
 
 " Oh," replied Mr. Pickwick, looking down a dark and filthy stair- 
 case, which appeared to lead to a range of damp and gloomy stone vaults 
 beneath the ground, " and those, I suppose, are the little cellars where 
 the prisoners keep their small quantities of coals. Ah ! unpleasant 
 places to have to go down to ; but very convenient, I dare say." 
 
 " Yes, I shouldn't wonder if they was convenient," replied the gen- 
 tleman, " seeing that a few people live there pretty snug. That's the 
 Fair, that is." 
 
 " My friend," said Mr. Pickwick, " you don't really mean to say that 
 human beings live down in those wretched dungeons?" 
 
 " Don't I ? " replied Mr. Roker, with indignant astonishment ; " why 
 shouldn't I ? " 
 
 "Live I live down there ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Live down there! yes, and die down there, too, wery often!" 
 replied Mr. Roker ; " and what of that ? Who's got to say anything 
 agin it ? Live down there ! yes, and a wery good place it is to live 
 in, ain't it?" 
 
 As Roker turned somewhat fiercely upon Mr. Pickwick in saying 
 this, and moreover muttered, in an excited fashion, certain unpleasant 
 invocations concerning his own eyes, limbs, and circulating fluids, the 
 latter gentleman deemed it advisable to pursue the discourse no further. 
 Mr. Roker then proceeded to mount another staircase, as dirty as that 
 which led to the place which had just been the subject of discussion, in 
 which ascent he was closely followed by Mr. Pickwick and Sam. 
 
 " There," said Mr. Roker, pausing for breath when they reached 
 another gallery of the same dimensions as the one below, " this is the 
 coffee-room flight : the one above 's the third, and the one above that 's 
 the top ; and the room where you're a going to sleep to-night is the 
 warden's room, and it's this way come on." Having said all this in a 
 I I
 
 436 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 breath, Mr. Roker mounted another flight of stairs, with Mr. Pickwick 
 and Sam Weller following- at his heels. 
 
 These staircases received light from sundry windows placed at some 
 little distance above the floor, and looking into a gravelled area bounded 
 by a high brick wall, with iron chevaux-de-frise at the top. This 
 area, it appeared from Mr. Roker's statement, was the racket-ground ; 
 and it further appeared, on the testimony of the same gentleman, that 
 there was a smaller area in that portion of the prison which was nearest 
 Farringdon-street, denominated and called " the Painted Ground," from 
 the fact of its walls having once displayed the semblances of various 
 men-of-war in full sail, and other artistical effects, achieved in bygone 
 times by some imprisoned draughtsman in his leisure hours. 
 
 Having communicated this piece of information, apparently more for 
 the purpose of discharging his bosom of an important fact, than with 
 any specific view of enlightening Mr. Pickwick, the guide, having at 
 length reached another gallery, led the way into a small passage 
 at the extreme end ; opened a door, and disclosed an apartment 
 of an appearance by no means inviting, containing eight or nine iron 
 bedsteads. 
 
 " There," said Mr. Roker, holding the door open, and looking tri- 
 umphantly round at Mr. Pickwick, " There 's a room ! " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's face, however, betokened such a very trifling portion 
 of satisfaction at the appearance of his lodging, that Mr. Roker looked 
 for a reciprocity of feeling into the countenance of Samuel Weller, who, 
 until now, had observed a dignified silence. 
 
 " There's a room, young man," observed Mr. Roker. 
 
 " I see it," replied Sam, with a placid nod of the head. 
 
 " You wouldn't think to find such a room as this, in the Farringdon 
 Hotel, would you?" said Mr. Roker, with a complacent smile. 
 
 To this Mr. Weller replied with an easy and unstudied closing of one 
 eye ; which might be considered to mean, either that he would have 
 thought it, or that he would not have thought it, or that he had never 
 thought anything at all about it, just as the observer's imagination 
 suggested. Having executed this feat, and re-opened his eye, 
 Mr. Weller proceeded to inquire which was the individual bedstead that 
 Mr. Roker had so flatteringly described as an out-and-outer to sleep in. 
 
 " That's it," replied Mr. Roker, pointing to a very rusty one in a 
 corner. " It would make any one go to sleep, that bedstead would, 
 whether they wanted to or not." 
 
 " I should think," said Sam, eyeing the piece of furniture in question 
 with a look of excessive disgust, " I should think poppies was nothin' 
 to it." 
 
 " Nothing at all," said Mr. Roker. 
 
 "And I s'pose," said Sam, with a sidelong glance at his master, as if 
 to see whether there were any symptoms of his determination being 
 shaken by what passed, " I s'pose the other genTmen as sleeps here, 
 are genTmen." 
 
 " Nothing but it," said Mr. Roker. " One of 'em takes his twelve 
 pints of ale a-day, and never leaves, off smoking, even at his meals."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 437 
 
 " He must be a first-rater," said Sam. 
 
 "A, 1," replied Mr. Roker. 
 
 Nothing daunted, even by this intelligence, Mr. Pickwick smilingly 
 announced his determination to test the powers of the narcotic bedstead 
 for that night ; and Mr. Roker, after informing him that he could 
 retire to rest at whatever hour he thought proper without any further 
 notice or formality, walked off, leaving him standing with Sam in the 
 gallery. 
 
 It was getting dark ; that is to say, a few gas jets were kindled 
 in this place, which was never light, by way of compliment to the 
 evening, which had set in outside. As it was rather warm, some of the 
 tenants of the numerous little rooms which opened into the gallery on 
 either hand, had set their doors ajar. Mr. Pickwick peeped into them 
 as he passed along, with great curiosity and interest. Here, four or five 
 great hulking fellows, just visible through a cloud of tobacco-smoke, 
 were engaged in noisy and riotous conversation over half-emptied pots of 
 beer, or playing at all-fours with a very greasy pack of cards. In the 
 adjoining room, some solitary tenant might be seen, poring, by the light 
 of a feeble tallow candle, over a bundle of soiled and tattered papers, 
 yellow with dust and dropping to pieces from age, writing, for the 
 hundredth time, some lengthened statement of his grievances, for the 
 perusal of some great man whose eyes it would never reach, or whose 
 heart it would never touch. In a third, a man, with his wife and a 
 whole crowd of children, might be seen making up a scanty bed on the 
 ground, or upon a few chairs, for the younger ones to pass the night in. 
 And in a fourth, and a fifth, and a sixth, and a seventh, the noise, and 
 the beer, and the tobacco-smoke, and the cards, all came over again in 
 greater force than before. 
 
 In the galleries themselves, and more especially on the staircases, 
 there lingered a great number of people, who came there, some because 
 their rooms were empty and lonesome ; others because their rooms were 
 full and hot ; and the greater part because they were restless and 
 uncomfortable, and not possessed of the secret of exactly knowing what 
 to do with themselves. There were many classes of people here, from 
 the labouring man in his fustian jacket, to the broken down spendthrift 
 in bis shawl dressing-gown, most appropriately out at elbows ; but there 
 was the same air about them all a kind of listless, jail-bird, careless 
 swagger; a vagabondish who's-afraid sort of bearing, which is wholly in- 
 describable in words; but which any man can understand in one moment 
 if he wishes, by just setting foot in the nearest debtors' prison, and look- 
 ing at the very first group of people he sees there, with the same interest 
 as Mr. Pickwick did. 
 
 " It strikes me, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, leaning over the iron-rail 
 at the stair-head, " It strikes me, Sam, that imprisonment for debt is 
 scarcely any punishment at all." 
 
 " Think not, Sir?" inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " You see how these fellows drink, and smoke, and roar," replied 
 Mr. Pickwick. " It's quite impossible that they can mind it much." 
 
 "Ah, that's just the wery thing, Sir," rejoined Sam, " they don't 
 i i 2
 
 438 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 mind it; it's a reg'lar holiday to them all porter and skettles. It's the 
 t'other vuns as gets done over vith this sort o f thing : them down- 
 hearted fellers as can't svig avay at the heer, nor play skettles neither ; 
 them as vould pay if they could, and gets low by being boxed up. I'll 
 tell you wot it is, Sir ; them as is always a idlin' in public houses it 
 don't damage at all, and them as is alvays a vorkin' ven they can, it 
 damages too much. ' It's unekal,' as my father used to say ven his grog 
 worn't made half-and-half ' It's unekal, and that's the fault on it.' " 
 
 " I think you're right, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, after a few moments' 
 reflection, "quite right." 
 
 " P'raps, now and then, there's some honest people as likes it," 
 observed Mr. Weller, in a ruminative tone, " but I never heerd o' one 
 as I can call to mind, 'cept the little dirty-faced man in the brown coat, 
 and that was force of habit." 
 
 " And who was he ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Vy, that's just the wery point as nobody never know'd," replied 
 Sam. 
 
 "But what did he do?" 
 
 " Vy he did wot many men as has been much better know'd has done 
 in their time, Sir," replied Sam, " he run a match agin the constable, 
 and van it." 
 
 " In other words, I suppose," said Mr. Pickwick, " he got into 
 debt ? " 
 
 "Just that, Sir," replied Sam, "and in course o' time he come here, 
 in consekens. It warn't much execution for nine pound nothin', mul- 
 tiplied by five for costs ; but hows'ever here he stopped for seventeen 
 year. If he got any wrinkles in his face, they was stopped up vith the 
 dirt, for both the dirty face and the brown coat wos just the same at the 
 end o' that time as they wos at the beginnin'. He wos a wery peaceful 
 inoffendin' little creetur, and wos alvays a bustlin' about for somebody, 
 or playin' rackets and never vinnin' ; till at last the turnkeys they got 
 quite fond on him, and he wos in the lodge ev'ry night, a chattering vith 
 'em, and tellin' stories, and all that 'ere. Vun night he wos in there as 
 usual, alone vith a wery old friend of his, as wos on the lock, ven he 
 says all of a sudden, ' I ain't seen the market outside, Bill,' he says 
 (Fleet Market wos there at that time) ' I ain't seen the market out- 
 side, Bill,' he says, ' for seventeen year.' ' I know you ain't,' says the 
 turnkey, smoking his pipe. ' I should like to see it for a minit, Bill,' 
 he says. ' Wery probable,' says the turnkey, smoking his pipe wery 
 fierce, and making believe he warn't up to wot the little man wanted. 
 ' Bill,' says the little man, more abrupt than afore, ' I've got the fancy 
 in my head. Let me see the public street once more afore I die ; and 
 if I ain't struck with apoplexy, I'll be back in five minits by the clock.' 
 ' And wot 'ud become o 1 me if you wos struck with apoplexy ?' said the 
 turnkey. ' Vy,' says the little creetur, ' whoever found me, 'ud bring 
 me home, for I've got my card in my pocket, Bill,' he says, No. 20, 
 Coffee-room Flight :' and that wos true, sure enough, for ven he wanted 
 to make the acquaintance of any new comer, he used to pull out a little 
 limp card vith them words on it and nothin' else ; in consideration o'
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 439 
 
 vich, he wos alvays called Number Tventy. The turnkey takes a fixed 
 look at him, and at last he says in a solemn manner, ' Tventy,' he says, 
 ' I'll trust you ; you won't get your old friend into trouble.' ' No, my 
 boy ; I hope I've somethin' better behind here,' says the little man, and 
 as he said it, he hit his little veskit wery hard, and then a tear started 
 out o' each eye, which wos wery extraordinary ; for it wos supposed as 
 water never touched his face. He shook the turnkey by the hand ; out 
 he vent " 
 
 " And never came back again," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Wrong for vunce, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, " for back he come two 
 rninits afore the time, a bilin' vith rage, sayin' how he'd been nearly 
 run over by a hackney coach ; that he warn't used to it, and he wos 
 blowed if he wouldn't write to the Lord Mayor. They got him pacified 
 at last ; and for five year arter that, he never even so much as peeped 
 out o' the lodge-gate." 
 
 " At the expiration of that time he died, I suppose," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick. 
 
 " No he didn't, Sir," replied Sam. " He got a curiosity to go and 
 taste the beer at a new public-house over the way, on the premises ; and 
 it wos such a wery nice parlour, that he took it into his head to go 
 there every night, which he did for along time, alvays comin' back reg'lar 
 about a quarter of an hour afore the gate shut, which wos all wery snug 
 and comfortable. At last he began to get so precious jolly, that he 
 used to forget how the time vent, or care nothin' at all about it, and he 
 vent on gettin' later and later, till vun night his old friend wos just a 
 shuttin' the gate had turned the key in fact ven he come up. ' Hold 
 hard, Bill,' he says. ' Wot, ain't you come home yet, Tventy?' says 
 the turnkey, ' I thought you was in long ago.' ' No I wasn't,' says the 
 little man, vith a smile. ' Veil then, I'll tell you wot it is, my friend,' 
 says the turnkey, openin' the gate wery slow and sulky, ' it's my 
 'pinion as you've got into bad company o' late, which I'm wery sorry to 
 see. Now I don't wish to do anything harsh,' he says, ' but if you 
 can't confine yourself to steady circles, and find your vay back at reg'lar 
 hours, as sure as you're a standin' there, I'll shut you out altogether !' 
 The little man was seized vith a wiolent tit o' tremblin', and never vent 
 outside the prison walls artervards !" 
 
 As Sam concluded, Mr. Pickwick slowly retraced his steps down 
 stairs. After a few thoughtful turns in the Painted Ground, which, as 
 it was now dark, was nearly deserted, he intimated to Mr. Weller that 
 he thought it high time for him to withdraw for the night ; requesting 
 him to seek a bed in some adjacent public house, and return early in 
 the morning, to make arrangements for the removal of his master's 
 wardrobe from the George and Vulture. This request Mr. Samuel 
 Weller prepared to obey, with as good a grace as he could assume, but 
 with a very considerable show of reluctance nevertheless. He even 
 went so far as to essay sundry ineffectual hints regarding the expe- 
 diency of stretching himself on the gravel for that night ; but finding 
 Mr. Pickwick obstinately deaf to any such suggestions, finally with- 
 drew.
 
 440 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 There is no disguising the fact that Mr. Pickwick felt very low- 
 spirited and uncomfortable not for lack of society, for the prison was 
 very full, and a bottle of wine would at once have purchased the utmost 
 good-fellowship of a few choice spirits, without any more formal 
 ceremony of introduction ; but he was alone in the coarse vulgar crowd, 
 and felt the depression of spirit and sinking of heart, naturally consequent 
 upon the reflection that he was cooped and caged up without a prospect 
 of liberation. As to the idea of releasing himself by ministering to the 
 sharpness of Dodson & Fogg, it never for an instant entered his 
 thoughts. 
 
 In this frame of mind he turned again into the coffee-room gallery, 
 and walked slowly to and fro. The place was intolerably dirty, and the 
 smell of tobacco smoke perfectly suffocating. There was a perpetual 
 slamming and banging of doors as the people went in and out, and the 
 noise of their voices and footsteps echoed and re-echoed through the 
 passages constantly. A young woman, with a child in her arms, who 
 seemed scarcely able to crawl, from emaciation and misery, was walking 
 up and down the passage in conversation with her husband, who had 
 no other place to see her in. As they passed Mr. Pickwick, he could 
 hear the female sob bitterly ; and once she burst into such a passion of 
 grief, that she was compelled to lean against the wall for support, while 
 the man took the child in his arms, and tried to soothe her. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's heart was really too full to bear it, and he went up 
 stairs to bed. 
 
 Now, although the warden's room was a very uncomfortable one, 
 being, in every point of decoration and convenience, several hundred 
 degrees inferior to the commonest infirmary of a county gaol, it had at 
 
 E resent the merit of being wholly deserted, save by Mr. Pickwick 
 imself. So, he sat down at the foot of his little iron bedstead, and 
 hegan to wonder how much a year the warden made out of the dirty 
 room. Having satisfied himself, by mathematical calculation, -that the 
 apartment was about equal in annual value to the freehold of a small 
 street in the suburbs of London, he took to wondering what possible 
 temptation could have induced a dingy-looking fly that was crawling 
 over his pantaloons, to come into a close prison, when he had the choice 
 of so many airy situations a course of meditation which led him to 
 the irresistible conclusion that the insect was insane. After settling 
 this point, he began to be conscious that he was getting sleepy; where- 
 upon he took his nightcap out of the pocket in which he had had the 
 precaution to stow it in the morning, and, leisurely undressing himself, 
 got into bed, and fell asleep. 
 
 " Bravo ! Heel over toe cut and shuffle pay away at it, Zephyr ! 
 I'm smothered if the Opera House isn't your proper hemisphere. Keep 
 it up. Hooray ! " These expressions, delivered in a most boisterous tone, 
 and accompanied with loud peals of laughter, roused Mr. Pickwick from 
 one of those sound slumbers which, lasting in reality some half hour, 
 seem to the sleeper to have been protracted for about three weeks or a 
 month. 
 
 The voice had no sooner ceased than the room, was shaken with such

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB 441 
 
 violence that the windows rattled in their frames, and the bedsteads 
 trembled again. Mr. Pickwick started up, and remained for some 
 minutes fixed in mute astonishment at the scene before him. 
 
 On the floor of the room, a man in a broad-skirted green coat, with cor- 
 deroy knee smalls and grey cotton stockings, was performing the most 
 popular steps of a hornpipe, with a slang and burlesque caricature of grace 
 and lightness, which, combined with the very appropriate character of his 
 costume, was inexpressibly absurd. Another man, evidently very drunk, 
 who had probably been tumbled into bed by his companions, was sitting 
 up between the sheets, warbling as much as he could recollect of a 
 comic song, with the most intensely sentimental feeling and expression ; 
 while a third, seated on one of the bedsteads, was applauding both per- 
 formers with the air of a profound connoisseur, and encouraging them 
 by such ebullitions of feeling as had already roused Mr. Pickwick from 
 his sleep. 
 
 This last man was an admirable specimen of a class of gentry which 
 never can be seen in full perfection but in such places ; they may be 
 met with, in an imperfect state, occasionally about stable-yards and 
 public houses ; but they never attain their full bloom except in these 
 hot-beds, which would almost seem to be considerately provided by the 
 Legislature for the sole purpose of rearing them. 
 
 He was a tall fellow, with an olive complexion, long dark hair, and 
 very thick bushy whiskers meeting under his chin. He wore no necker- 
 chief, as he had been playing rackets all day, and his open shirt collar 
 displayed their full Inxuriance. On his head he wore one of the com- 
 mon eighteenpenny French skull-caps, with a gawdy tassel dangling 
 therefrom, very happily in keeping with a common fustian coat. His 
 legs, which, being long, were afflicted with weakness, graced a pair of 
 Oxford-mixture trousers, made to show the full symmetry of the limbs. 
 Being somewhat negligently braced, however, and, moreover, but imper- 
 fectly buttoned, they fell in a series of not the most graceful folds over 
 a pair of shoes sufficiently down at heel to display a pair of very soiled 
 white stockings. There was a rakish vagabond smartness, and a kind 
 of boastful rascality, about the whole man, that was worth a mine of 
 gold. _ 
 
 This figure was the first to perceive that Mr. Pickwick was looking 1 
 on ; upon which he winked to the Zephyr, and entreated him, with 
 mock gravity, not to wake the gentleman. 
 
 "Why, bless the gentleman's honest heart and soul!" said the Ze- 
 phyr, turning round and affecting the extremity of surprise ; " the 
 gentleman is awake. Hem; Shakspeare. How do you do, Sir ? How 
 is Mary and Sarah, Sir? and the dear old lady at home, Sir eh, Sir? 
 Will you have the kindness to put my compliments into the first little 
 
 nrcel you're sending that way, Sir, and say that I would have sent 'em 
 fore, only I was afraid they might be broken in the waggon, Sir?" 
 " Don't overwhelm the gentleman with ordinary civilities when you 
 see he's anxious to have something to drink," said the gentleman with 
 the whiskers, with a jocose air. " W T hy don't you ask the gentleman 
 what he'll take?"
 
 442 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Dear me I quite forgot," replied the other. " What will you 
 take, Sir? Will you take port wine, Sir, or sherry wine, Sir? I can 
 recommend the ale, Sir; or perhaps you'd like to taste the porter, Sir? 
 Allow me to have the felicity of hang-ing 1 up your nightcap, Sir." 
 
 With this, the speaker snatched that article of dress from Mr. Pick- 
 wick's head, and fixed it in a twinkling on that of the drunken man, 
 who, firmly impressed with the belief that he was delighting a nume- 
 rous assembly, continued to hammer away at the comic song in the most 
 melancholy strains imaginable. 
 
 Taking a man's nightcap from his brow by violent means, and adjusting 
 it on the head of an unknown gentleman of dirty exterior, however in- 
 genious a witticism in itself, is unquestionably one of those which come 
 under the denomination of practical jokes. Viewing the matter precisely 
 in this light, Mr. Pickwick, without the slightest intimation of his pur- 
 pose, sprang vigorously out of bed ; struck the Zephyr so smart a blow 
 in the chest, as to deprive him of a considerable portion of the com- 
 modity which sometimes bears his name ; and then, recapturing his 
 nightcap, boldly placed himself in an attitude of defence. 
 
 *' Now," said Mr. Pickwick, gasping no less from excitement than 
 from the expenditure of so much energy, " come on both of you 
 both of you." And with this liberal invitation the worthy gentleman 
 communicated a revolving motion to his clenched fists, by way of 
 appalling his antagonists with a display of science. 
 
 It might have been Mr. Pickwick's very unexpected gallantry, or it 
 might have been the complicated manner in which he had got himself 
 out of bed, and fallen all in a mass upon the hornpipe man, that touched 
 his adversaries. Touched they were; for, instead of then and there 
 making an attempt to commit manslaughter, as Mr. Pickwick implicitly 
 believed they would have done, they paused, stared at each other a short 
 time, and finally laughed outright. 
 
 "Well; you're a trump, and I like you all the better for it,'-' said the 
 Zephyr. " Now jump into bed again, or you'll catch the rheumatics. 
 No malice, I hope ?" said the man, extending a hand about the size of 
 the yellow clump of fingers which sometimes swings over a glover's 
 door. 
 
 " Certainly not," said Mr. Pickwick, with great alacrity ; for, now 
 that the excitement was over, he began to feel rather cool about the 
 legs. 
 
 " Allow me the honour, Sir?" said the gentleman with the whiskers, 
 presenting his dexter hand, and aspirating the h. 
 
 " With much pleasure, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick; and having executed 
 a very long and solemn shake, he got into bed again. 
 
 " My name is Smangle, Sir," said the man with the whiskers. 
 Oh," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Mine is Mivins," said the man in the stockings. 
 I am delighted to hear it, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 ; Hem," coughed Mr. Smangle. 
 Did you speak, Sir?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 No, I did not, Sir," said Mr. Smangle.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 443 
 
 " I thought you did, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 All this was very genteel and pleasant ; and, to make matters still 
 more comfortable, Mr. Smangle assured Mr. Pickwick a great many 
 times that he entertained a very high respect for the feelings of a gentle- 
 man ; which sentiment, indeed, did him infinite credit, as he could be in 
 no wise supposed to understand them. 
 
 "Are you going through the Court, Sir?" inquired Mr. Smangle. 
 
 " Through the what ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Through the Court Portugal Street the Court for the Relief of 
 you know." 
 
 " Oh, no," replied Mr. Pickwick. " No, I am not." 
 
 " Going out, perhaps ? " suggested Mivins. 
 
 " I fear not," replied Mr. Pickwick. " I refuse to pay some damages, 
 and am here in consequence." 
 
 " Ah," said Mr. Smangle, " paper has been my ruin." 
 
 " A stationer, I presume, Sir ? " said Mr. Pickwick, innocently. 
 
 " Stationer ! No, no ; confound and curse me ! not so low as that. 
 No trade. When I say paper, I mean bills." 
 
 " Oh, you use the word in that sense. I see," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Damme ! a gentleman must expect reverses," said Smangle. " What 
 of that ? Here am I in the Fleet Prison. Well ; good. What then ? 
 I'm none the worse for that, am I ?" 
 
 " Not a bit," replied Mr. Mivins. And he was quite right ; for, so 
 far from Mr. Smangle being any the worse for it, he was something the 
 better, inasmuch as to qualify himself for the place, he had attained 
 gratuitous possession of certain articles of jewellery, which, long before 
 tnat, had found their way to the pawnbroker's. 
 
 " Well ; but come," said Mr. Smangle ; " this is dry work. Let's 
 rinse our mouths with a drop of burnt sherry ; the last comer shall 
 stand it, Mivins shall fetch it, and I'll help to drink it. That's a fair 
 and gentlemanlike division of labour, any how curse me !" 
 
 Unwilling to hazard another quarrel, Mr. Pickwick gladly assented to 
 the proposition, and consigned the money to Mr. Mivins, who, as it 
 was nearly eleven o'clock, lost no time in repairing to the coffee-room, 
 on his errand. 
 
 " I say," whispered Smangle, the moment his friend had left the 
 room ; " what did you give him ?" 
 
 " Half a sovereign," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " He's a devilish pleasant gentlemanly dog," said Mr. Smangle ; 
 
 "infernal pleasant. I don't know anybody more so; but " Here 
 
 Mr. Smangle stopped short, and shook his head dubiously. 
 
 " You don't think there is any probability of his appropriating the 
 money to his own use ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh, no mind, I don't say that ; I expressly say that he's a 
 devilish gentlemanly fellow," said Mr. Smangle. " But I think, perhaps, 
 if somebody went down, just to see that he didn't drop his beak into the 
 jug by accident, or make some confounded mistake in losing the money 
 as he came up stairs, it would be as well. Here, you Sir, just run down 
 stairs, and look after that gentleman, will you?"
 
 444 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 This request was addressed to a little, timid-looking:, nervous man, 
 whose appearance bespoke great poverty, and who had been crouching 
 on his bedstead all this while, apparently quite stupified by the novelty 
 of his situation. 
 
 "You know where the coffee-room is," said Smangle; "just run 
 down, and tell that gentleman you've come to help him up with the 
 jug. Or stop I'll tell you what I'll tell you how we'll do him," 
 said Smangle, with a cunning look. 
 
 " How ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Send down word that he's to spend the change in cigars. Capital 
 thought. Run and tell him that ; d'ye hear? They shan't be wasted," 
 continued Smangle, turning to Mr. Pickwick. " I'll smoke 'em." 
 
 This manoeuvring was so exceedingly ingenious, and, withal, per- 
 formed with such immoveable composure and coolness, that Mr. Pick- 
 wick would have had no wish to disturb it, even if he had had the 
 power. In a short time Mr. Mivins returned, bearing the sherry, which 
 Mr. Smangle dispensed in two little cracked mugs; considerately re- 
 marking, with reference to himself, that a gentleman must not be par- 
 ticular under such circumstances, and, for his part, he was not too 
 proud to drink out of the jug ; in which, to show his sincerity, he forth- 
 with pledged the company in a daught which half emptied it. 
 
 An excellent understanding having been, by these means, promoted, 
 Mr. Smangle proceeded to entertain his hearers with a relation of divers 
 romantic adventures in which he had been from time to time engaged, 
 involving various interesting anecdotes of a thorough-bred horse, and a 
 magnificent Jewess, both of surpassing beauty, and much coveted by 
 the nobility and gentry of these kingdoms. 
 
 Long before these elegant extracts from the biography of a gentleman 
 were concluded, Mr. Mivins had betaken himself to bed, and set in 
 snoring for the night : leaving the timid stranger and Mr. Pickwick to 
 the full benefit of Mr. Smangle's experiences. 
 
 Nor were the two last-named gentlemen as much edified as they 
 might have been by the moving passages which were narrated. Mr. 
 Pickwick had been in a state of slumber for some time, when he had a 
 faint perception of the drunken man bursting out afresh with the comic 
 song, and receiving from Mr. Smangle a gentle intimation, through the 
 medium of the water jug, that his audience were not musically disposed. 
 He then once again dropped off to sleep, with a confused consciousness 
 that Mr. Smangle was still engaged in relating a long story, the chief 
 point of which appeared to be, that, on some occasion particularly stated 
 and set forth, he had "done" a bill and a gentleman at the same time.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 445 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE, LIKE THE PRECEDING ONE, OF THE OLD PROVERB, 
 THAT ADVERSITY BRINGS A MAN ACQUAINTED WITH STRANGE 
 BED-FELLOWS. LIKEWISE CONTAINING MR. PICKWICK'S EXTRA- 
 ORDINARY AND STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT TO MR. SAMUEL 
 WELLER. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Pickwick opened his eyes next morning, the first object 
 upon which they rested was Samuel Weller, seated upon a small black 
 portmanteau, intently regarding-, apparently in a condition of profound 
 abstraction, the stately figure of the dashing Mr. Smangle, while Mr. 
 Smangle himself, who was already partially dressed, was seated on his 
 bedstead, occupied in the desperately hopeless attempt of staring Mr. 
 Weller out of countenance. We say desperately hopeless, because 
 Sam, with a comprehensive gaze, which took in Mr. Smangle's cap, 
 feet, head, face, legs, and whiskers, all at the same time, continued to 
 look steadily on with every demonstration of lively satisfaction, but with 
 no more regard to Mr. Smangle's personal sentiments on the subject, 
 than he would have displayed had he been inspecting- a wooden statue, 
 or a straw-embowelled Guy Faux. 
 
 " Well ; will you know me again ?" said Mr. Smangle, with a frown. 
 
 " I'd svear to you any veres, Sir," replied Sam, cheerfully. 
 
 " Don't be impertinent to a gentleman, Sir," said Mr. Smangle. 
 
 " Not on no account," replied Sam. " If you'll tell me ven he 
 wakes, I'll be upon the wery best extra-super behaviour!" This 
 observation, having a remote tendency to imply that Mr. Smangle was 
 no gentleman, rather kindled his ire. 
 
 " Mivins !" said Mr. Smangle, with a passionate air. 
 
 " What's the office ? " replied that gentleman from his couch. 
 
 " Who the devil is this fellow? " 
 
 " 'Gad," said Mr. Mivins, looking lazily out from under the bed- 
 clothes, " I ought to ask you that. Hasn't he any business here ? " 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Smangle. 
 
 " Then knock him down stairs, and tell him not to presume to get 
 up till I come and kick him," rejoined Mr. Mivins ; and with this prompt 
 advice, that excellent gentleman again betook himself to slumber. 
 
 The conversation exhibiting these unequivocal symptoms of rather 
 verging on the personal, Mr. Pickwick deemed it a fit point at which to 
 interpose. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Sir," rejoined that gentleman. 
 
 " Has anything new occurred since last night ? " 
 
 "Nothin' partickler, Sir," replied Sam, glancing at Mr. Smangle's 
 whiskers ; " the late prewailance of a close and confined atmosphere has
 
 446 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 been ray ther favourable to the growth of veeds, of an alarmin' and san- 
 gvinary natur ; but vith that 'ere exception things is quiet enough." 
 
 " I shall get up," said Mr. Pickwick ; " give me some clean things." 
 
 Whatever hostile intentions Mr. Smangle might have entertained, his 
 thoughts were speedily diverted by the unpacking of the portmanteau ; the 
 contents of which appeared to impress him at once with a most favourable 
 opinion, not only of Mr. Pickwick, but of Sam also, who, he took an 
 early opportunity of declaring, in a tone of voice loud enough for that 
 eccentric personage to overhear, was a regular thorough-bred original, 
 and consequently the very man after his own heart. As to Mr. Pick- 
 wick, the affection he conceived for him knew no limits. 
 
 " Now is there anything I can do for you, my dear Sir ? " said 
 Smangle. 
 
 " Nothing that I am aware of, I am obliged to you," replied Mr. 
 Pickwick. 
 
 " No linen that you want sent to the washerwoman's ? I know a 
 delightful washerwoman outside, that comes for my things twice a week, 
 and, by Jove ! how devilish lucky ! this is the very day she calls. 
 Shall I put any of those little things up with mine ? Don't say any- 
 thing about the trouble. Confound and curse it ! if one gentleman 
 under a cloud is not to put himself a little out of the way to assist 
 another gentleman in the same condition, what's human nature?" 
 
 Thus spake Mr. Smangle, edging himself meanwhile as near as pos- 
 sible to the portmanteau, and beaming forth looks of the most fervent 
 and disinterested friendship. 
 
 " There's nothing you want to give out for the man to brush, my 
 dear creature, is there ? " resumed Smangle. 
 
 " Nothin' whoever, my fine feller," rejoined Sam, taking the reply 
 into his own mouth. " P'raps if vun of us wos to brush, without 
 troubling the man, it 'ud be more agreeable for all parties, as the school- 
 master said ven the young gentlemen objected to being flogged by the 
 butler." 
 
 " And there's nothing that I can send in my little box to the washer- 
 woman's, is there ? " said Smangle, turning from Sam to Mr. Pickwick 
 with an air of some discomfiture. 
 
 " Nothin' whatever, Sir," retorted Sam ; " I'm afeerd the little box 
 must be chock full o' your own as it is." 
 
 This speech was accompanied with such a very expressive look at that 
 particular portion of Mr. Smangle's attire, by the appearance of which 
 the skill of laundresses in getting up gentlemen's linen is generally 
 tested, that he was fain to turn upon his heel, and, for the present at 
 any rate, to give up all design on Mr. Pickwick's purse and wardrobe. 
 He accordingly retired in dudgeon to the racket-ground, where he made 
 a 4ight and wholesome breakfast upon a couple of the cigars which had 
 been purchased on the previous night. 
 
 Mr. Mivins, who was no smoker, and whose account for small articles 
 of chandlery had also reached down to the bottom of the slate, and been 
 " carried over " to the other side, remained in bed, and, in his own 
 words, " took it out in sleep."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 447 
 
 After breakfasting in a small closet attached to the coffee-room, 
 which bore the imposing 1 title of the Snuggery, the temporary inmate 
 of which, in consideration of a small additional charge, has the unspeak- 
 able advantage of overhearing all the conversation in the coffee-room 
 aforesaid ; and after despatching Mr. Weller on some necessary errands, 
 Mr. Pickwick repaired to the Lodge, to consult Mr. Roker concerning 
 his future accommodation. 
 
 " Accommodation, eh ? " said that gentleman, consulting a large book ; 
 " Plenty of that, Mr. Pickvick. Your chummage ticket will be on 
 twenty-seven, in the third." 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Pickwick. '<My what, did you say ?" 
 " Your chummage ticket," replied Mr. Roker ; " you're up to that ?" 
 " Not quite," replied Mr. Pickwick, with a smile. 
 " Why," said Mr. Roker, " it's as plain as Salisbury. You'll have a 
 chummage ticket upon twenty-seven in the third, and them as is in the 
 room will be your chums." 
 
 " Are there many of them?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, dubiously. 
 Three," replied Mr. Roker. 
 Mr. Pickwick coughed. 
 
 " One of 'em 's a parson," said Mr. Roker, filling up a little piece of 
 paper as he spoke, "another's a butcher." 
 " Eh ? " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " A butcher," repeated Mr. Roker, giving the nib of his pen a tap on 
 the desk to cure it of a disinclination to mark. " What a thorough- 
 paced goer he used to be sure-ly ! You remember Tom Martin, 
 Neddy? " said Roker, appealing to another man in the lodge, who was 
 paring the mud off his shoes with a five-and- twenty bladed pocket 
 knife. 
 
 " I should think so," replied the party addressed, with a strong em- 
 phasis on the personal pronoun. 
 
 " Bless my dear eyes," said Mr. Roker, shaking his head slowly from 
 side to side, and gazing abstractedly out of the grated window before 
 him, as if he were fondly recalling some peaceful scene of his early 
 youth ; " it seems but yesterday that he whopped the coal-heaver down 
 Fox-under-the-Hill by the wharf there. I think I can see him now, a 
 coming up the Strand between the two street-keepers, a little sobered 
 by the bruising, with a patch o' winegar and brown paper over his right 
 eyelid, and that 'ere lovely bull-dog, as pinned the little boy arterwards, 
 a following at his heels. What a rum thing time is, ain't it, Neddy ? " 
 The gentleman to whom these observations were addressed, who ap- 
 peared of a taciturn and thoughtful cast, merely echoed the inquiry ; 
 and Mr. Roker, shaking off the poetical and gloomy train of thought 
 into which he had been betrayed, descended to the common business of 
 life, and resumed his pen. 
 
 " Do you know what the third gentleman is ? " inquired Mr. Pick- 
 wick, not very much gratified by this description of his future asso- 
 ciates. 
 
 " What is that Simpson, Neddy ? " said Mr. Roker, turning to his 
 companion.
 
 448 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " What Simpson ? " said Neddy. 
 
 " Why him in twenty-seven in the third, that this gentleman 's going 
 to be chummed on." 
 
 " Oh, him ! " replied Neddy : " he's nothing exactly. He was a 
 horse chaunter : he's a leg now." 
 
 " Ah, so I thought," rejoined Mr. Roker, closing the book, and 
 placing the small piece of paper in Mr. Pickwick's hands " That's the 
 ticket, Sir." 
 
 Very much perplexed by this summary disposition of his person, 
 Mr. Pickwick walked back into the prison, revolving in his mind what 
 he had better do. Convinced, however, that before he took any other 
 steps it would be advisable to see, and hold personal converse with, 
 the three gentlemen with whom it was proposed to quarter him, he 
 made the best of his way to the third flight. 
 
 After groping about in the gallery for some time, attempting in the 
 dim light to decipher the numbers on the different doors, he at length 
 appealed to a potboy, who happened to be pursuing his morning occu- 
 pation of gleaning for pewter. 
 
 " Which is twenty-seven, my good fellow?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Five doors further on," replied the potboy. " There's the likeness 
 of a man being hung, and smoking a pipe the while, chalked outside the 
 door." 
 
 Guided by this direction, Mr. Pickwick proceeded slowly along the 
 gallery until he encountered the " portrait of a gentleman," above 
 described, upon whose countenance he tapped, with the knuckle of his 
 fore-finger gently at first, and then more audibly. After repeating 
 this process several times without effect, he ventured to open the door 
 and peep in. 
 
 There was only one man in the room, and he was leaning out of 
 window as far as he could without over-balancing himself, endeavouring 
 with great perseverance to spit upon the crown of the hat of a personal 
 friend on the parade below. As neither speaking, coughing, sneezing, 
 knocking, nor any other ordinary mode of attracting attention, made 
 this person aware of the presence of a visiter, Mr. Pickwick, after some 
 delay, stepped up to the window, and pulled him gently by the coat- 
 tail. The individual brought in his head and shoulders with great 
 swiftness, and surveying Mr. Pickwick from head to foot, demanded 
 in a surly tone what the something beginning with a capital H he 
 wanted. 
 
 " I believe," said Mr. Pickwick, consulting his ticket, " I believe this 
 is twenty -seven in the third." 
 
 " Well ? " replied the gentleman. 
 
 " I have come here in consequence of receiving this bit of paper," 
 rejoined Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Hand it over," said the gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick complied. 
 
 " I think Roker might have chummed you somewhere else," said 
 Mr. Simpson (for it was the leg), after a very discontented sort of a 
 pause.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 449 
 
 Mr. Pickwick thought so also ; but, under all the circumstances, he 
 considered it a matter of sound policy to be silent. 
 
 Mr. Simpson mused for a few moments after this, and then, thrusting 
 his head out of the window, gave a shrill whistle, and pronounced some 
 word aloud several times. What the word was, Mr. Pickwick could not 
 distinguish ; but he rather inferred that it must be some nickname which 
 distinguished Mr. Martin, from the fact of a great number of gentle- 
 men on the ground below, immediately proceeding to cry " Butcher," in 
 imitation of the tone in which that useful class of society are wont 
 diurnally to make their presence known at area railings. 
 
 Subsequent occurrences confirmed the accuracy of Mr. Pickwick's 
 impression ; for, in a few seconds, a gentleman, prematurely broad for 
 his years, clothed in a professional blue jean frock, and top-boots with 
 circular toes, entered the room nearly out of breath, closely followed by 
 another gentleman in very shabby black, and a seal-skin cap. The 
 latter gentleman, who fastened his coat all the way up to his chin by 
 means of a pin and a button alternately, had a very coarse red face, and 
 looked like a drunken chaplain, which, indeed, he was. 
 
 These two gentlemen having by turns perused Mr. Pickwick's billet, 
 the one expressed his opinion that it was " a rig," and the other his 
 conviction that it was "ago." Having recorded their feelings in these 
 very intelligible terms, they looked at Mr. Pickwick and each other in 
 awkward silence. 
 
 " It's an aggravating thing, just as we got the beds so snug," said the 
 chaplain, looking at three dirty mattresses, each rolled up in a blanket, 
 which occupied one corner of the room during the day, and formed a 
 kind of slab, on which were placed an old cracked basin, ewer, and soap- 
 dish, of common yellow earthenware, with a blue flower : " Very aggra- 
 vating." 
 
 Mr. Martin expressed the same opinion, in rather stronger terms ; 
 Mr. Simpson, after having let a variety of expletive adjectives loose 
 jipon society without any substantive to accompany them, tucked up 
 his sleeves, and began to wash the greens for dinner. 
 
 While this was going on, Mr. Pickwick had been eyeing the room, 
 which was filthily dirty, and smelt intolerably close. There was no 
 vestige of either carpet, curtain, or blind. There was not even a closet 
 in it. Unquestionably there were but few things to put away, if there 
 had been one ; but, however few in number, or small in individual 
 amount, still remnants of loaves, and pieces of cheese, and damp towels, 
 and scraps of meat, and articles of wearing apparel, and mutilated 
 crockery, and hallows without nozzles, and toasting-forks without 
 prongs, do present something of an uncomfortable appearance when 
 they are scattered about the floor of a small apartment, which is the 
 common sitting and sleeping room of three idle men. 
 
 " I suppose this can be managed somehow," said the butcher, after a 
 pretty long silence. " What will you take to go out ?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon," replied Mr. Pickwick. " What did you say ? 
 I hardly understand you." 
 
 "What will you take to be paid out?" said the butcher. "The 
 regular chummage is two-and-sixpence. Will you take three bob?"
 
 450 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " And a bender," suggested the clerical gentleman. 
 
 " Well, I don't mind that ; it's only twopence a-piece more," said 
 Mr. Martin. " What do you say now ? WV11 pay you out for three- 
 and-sixpence a week. Come." 
 
 " And stand a gallon of beer down," chimed in Mr. Simpson. 
 " There." 
 
 " And drink it on the spot," said the chaplain. '' Now." 
 
 " I really am so wholly ignorant of the rules of this place," returned 
 Mr. Pickwick, " that I do not yet comprehend you. Can I live any- 
 where else ? I thought I could not." 
 
 At this inquiry Mr. Martin looked with a countenance of excessive 
 surprise at his two friends, and then each gentleman pointed with his 
 right thumb over his left shoulder. This action, imperfectly described 
 in words by the very feeble term of " over the left," when performed by 
 any number of ladies or gentlemen who are accustomed to act in unison, 
 has a very graceful and airy effect ; its expression is one of light and 
 playful sarcasm. 
 
 " Can you ! " repeated Mr. Martin, with a smile of pity. 
 
 " Well, if I knew as little of life as that, I'd eat my hat and swallow 
 the buckle/' said the clerical gentleman. 
 
 w So would T," added the sporting one, solemnly. 
 
 After this introductory preface, the three chums informed Mr. Pick- 
 wick in a breath, that money was, in the Fleet, just what money was 
 out of it ; that it would instantly procure him almost anything he de- 
 sired ; and that, supposing he had got it, and had no objection to spend 
 it, if he only signified his wish to have a room to himself, he might 
 take possession of one, furnished and fitted to boot, in half an hour's 
 time. 
 
 With this, the parties separated, very much to their mutual satisfac- 
 tion ; Mr. Pickwick once more retracing his steps to the lodge, and the 
 three companions adjourning to the coffee-room, there to expend the 
 five shillings which the clerical gentleman had, with admirable prudence 
 and foresight, borrowed of him for the purpose. 
 
 " I knowed it I " said Mr. Roker, with a chuckle, when Mr. Pick- 
 wick stated the object with which he had returned. " Didn't I say so, 
 Neddy?" 
 
 The philosophical owner of the universal penknife growled an affirma- 
 tive. 
 
 "I knowed you'd want a room for yourself, bless you!" said Mr. 
 Roker. " Let me see. You'll want some furniture. You'll hire that 
 of me, I suppose ? That's the reg'lar thing." 
 
 " With great pleasure," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " There's a capital room up in the coffee-room flight, that belongs to 
 a Chancery prisoner," said Mr. Roker. " It'll stand you in a pound 
 a-week. I suppose you don't mind that?" 
 
 " Not at all," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Just step there with me," said Roker, taking up his hat with great 
 alacrity ; " the matter's settled in five minutes. Lord I why didn't you 
 say at first that you was willing to come down handsome ? "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 451 
 
 The matter was soon arranged, as the turnkey had foretold. The 
 Chancery prisoner had been there Jong enough to have lost friends, for- 
 tune, home, and happiness, and to have acquired the right of having a 
 room to himself. As he laboured, however, under the slight incon- 
 venience of often wanting a morsel of bread, he eagerly listened to Mr. 
 Pickwick's proposal to rent the apartment ; and readily covenanted and 
 agreed to yield him up the sole and undisturbed possession thereof, in con- 
 sideration of the weekly payment of twenty shillings; from which fund 
 he furthermore contracted to pay out any person or persons that might 
 he chummed upon it. 
 
 As they struck the bargain, Mr. Pickwick surveyed him with a pain- 
 ful interest. He was a tall, gaunt, cadaverous man, in an old great coat 
 and slippers, with sunken cheeks, and a restless, eager eye. His lips 
 were bloodless, and his bones sharp and thin. God help him ! the iron 
 teeth of confinement and privation had been slowly tiling them down 
 for twenty years. 
 
 " And where will you live meanwhile, Sir?" said Mr. Pickwick, as he 
 laid the amount of the first week's rent in advance on the tottering 
 table. 
 
 The man gathered up the money with a trembling hand, and replied 
 that he didn't know yet ; he must go and see where he could move his 
 bed to. 
 
 " I am afraid, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, laying his hand gently and 
 compassionately on his arm ; " I am afraid you will have to live in 
 some noisy crowded place. Now, pray, consider this room your own 
 when you want quiet, or when any of your friends come to see you." 
 
 " Friends !" interposed the man, in a voice which rattled in his throat. 
 " If I lay dead at the bottom of the deepest mine in the world, tight 
 screwed down and soldered in my coffin, rotting in the dark and filthy 
 ditch that drags its slime along beneath the foundations of this prison, 
 I could not be more forgotten or unheeded than I am here. I am a 
 dead man dead to society, without the pity they bestow on those 
 whose souls have passed to judgment. Friends to see me ! My God ! 
 I have sunk from the prime of life into old age in this place, and there 
 is not one to raise his hand above my bed, when I lie dead upon it, and 
 say, ' It is a blessing he is gone !' " 
 
 The excitement, which had cast an unwonted light over the man's face 
 while he spoke, subsided as he concluded ; and, pressing his withered 
 hands together in a hasty and disordered manner, he shuffled from the 
 room. 
 
 " Rides rather rusty," said Mr. Roker, with a smile. " Ah ! they're 
 like the elephants ; they feel it now and then, and it makes 'em 
 wild!" 
 
 Having made this deeply-sympathising remark, Mr. Roker entered 
 upon his arrangements with such expedition, that in a short time the 
 room was furnished with a carpet, six chairs, a table, a sofa bedstead, a 
 tea-kettle, and various small et ceteras, on hire, at the very reasonable 
 rate of seven-and-tv^enty shillings and sixpence per week. 
 
 "Now, is there anything more we can do for you?" inquired Mr. 
 
 K K
 
 452 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Roker, looking- round with great satisfaction, and gaily chinking the 
 first week's hire in his closed fist. 
 
 " Why, yes," said Mr. Pickwick, who had been musing deeply for 
 some time. " Are there any people here who run on errands, and so 
 forth?" 
 
 " Outside, do you mean ? " inquired Mr. Roker. 
 
 " Yes ; I mean who are able to go outside. Not prisoners." 
 
 " Yes, there is," said Roker. " There's an unfortunate devil, who 
 has got a friend on the poor side, that's glad to do anything of that 
 sort. He's been running odd jobs, and that, for the last two months. 
 Shall I send him ?" 
 
 " If you please," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. " Stay ; no. The poor 
 side, you say. I should like to see it ; I'll go to him myself." 
 
 The poor side of a debtor's prison is, as its name imports, that in 
 which the most miserable and abject class of debtors are confined. A 
 prisoner having declared upon the poor side, pays neither rent nor 
 chummage. His fees, upon entering and leaving the gaol, are reduced 
 in amount, and he becomes entitled to a share of some small quantities 
 of food ; to provide which, a few charitable persons have, from time to 
 time, left trifling legacies in their wills. Most of our readers will 
 remember, that, until within a very few years past, there was a kind 
 of iron cage in the wall of the Fleet Prison, within which was posted 
 some man of hungry looks, who, from time to time, rattled a money- 
 box, and exclaimed, in a mournful voice, " Pray, remember the poor 
 debtors ; pray, remember the poor debtors." The receipts of this box, 
 when there were any, were divided among the poor prisoners, and the 
 men on the poor side relieved each other in this degrading office. 
 
 Although this custom has been abolished, and the cage is now 
 boarded up, the miserable and destitute condition of these unhappy 
 persons remains the same. We no longer suffer them to appeal at the 
 prison gates to the charity and compassion of the passers by ; but we 
 still leave unblotted in the leaves of our statute book, for the reve- 
 rence and admiration of succeeding ages, the just and wholesome law 
 which declares that the sturdy felon shall be fed and clothed, and that 
 the penniless debtor shall be left to die of starvation and nakedness. 
 This is no fiction. Not a week passes over our heads but, in every 
 one of our prisons for debt, some of these men must inevitably expire 
 in the slow agonies of want, if they were not relieved by their fellow- 
 prisoners. 
 
 Turning these things in his mind, as he mounted the narrow stair- 
 case at the foot of which Roker had left him, Mr. Pickwick gradually 
 worked himself to the boiling-over point; and so excited was he with 
 his reflections on this subject, that he had burst into the room to which 
 he had been directed, before he had any distinct recollection either of 
 the place in which he was, or of the object of his visit. 
 
 The general aspect of the room recalled him to himself at once ; but 
 he had no sooner cast his eyes on the figure of a man who was brooding 
 over the dusty fire, than, letting his hat fall on the floor, he stood per- 
 fectly fixed and immoveable with astonishment.
 
 t tf
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 453 
 
 Yes, in tattered garments, and without a coat ; his common calico shirt 
 yellow and in rags ; his hair hanging over his face ; his features changed 
 with suffering, and pinched with famine, there sat Mr. Alfred Jingle ; 
 his head resting upon his hand, his eyes fixed upon the fire, and his whole 
 appearance denoting misery and dejection I 
 
 Near him, leaning listlessly against the wall, stood a strong-built 
 countryman, flicking with a worn-out hunting-whip the top-boot that 
 adorned his right foot : his left being thrust into an old slipper. Horses, 
 dogs, and drink had brought him there pell-mell. There was a rusty 
 spur on the solitary boot, which he occasionally jerked into the empty 
 air, at the same time giving the boot a smart blow, and muttering 
 some of the sounds by which a sportsman encourages his horse. He 
 was riding, in imagination, some desperate steeple-chace at that mo- 
 ment. Poor wretch ! he never rode a match on the swiftest animal in 
 his costly stud, with half the speed at which he had torn along the course 
 that ended in the Fleet. 
 
 On the opposite side of the room an old man was seated on a small 
 wooden box, with his eyes rivetted on the floor, and his face settled into 
 an expression of the deepest and most hopeless despair. A young girl 
 his little grand-daughter was hanging about him, endeavouring, with 
 a thousand childish devices, to engage his attention ; but the old man 
 neither saw nor heard her. The voice that had been music to him, and 
 the eyes that had been light, fell coldly on his senses. His limbs were 
 shaking with disease, and the palsy had fastened on his mind. 
 
 There were two or three other men in the room, congregated in a 
 little knot, and noisily talking among themselves. There was a lean 
 and haggard woman, too a prisoner's wife who was watering, with 
 great solicitude, the wretched stump of a dried-up, withered plant, 
 which, it was plain to see, could never send forth a green leaf again ; 
 too true an emblem, perhaps, of the office she had come there to 
 discharge. 
 
 Such were the objects which presented themselves to Mr. Pickwick's 
 view, as he looked round him in amazement. The noise of some one 
 stumbling hastily into the room roused him. Turning his eyes towards 
 the door, they encountered the new comer; and in him, through all his 
 rags, and dirt, and misery, he recognised the familiar features of Mr. 
 Job Trotter. 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick ! " exclaimed Job aloud. 
 
 " Eh ? " said Jingle, starting from his seat. 
 
 Mr. ! So it is queer place strange thing serves me 
 
 right very." And with this Mr. Jingle thrust his hands into the 
 place where his trousers pocket used to be, and, dropping his chin upon 
 his breast, sunk back into his chair. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was affected ; the two men looked so very miserable. 
 The sharp involuntary glance Jingle had cast at a small piece of raw 
 loin of mutton, which Job had brought in with him, said more of their 
 reduced state than two hours' explanation could have done. He looked 
 mildly at Jingle, and said : 
 
 K K 2
 
 454 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I should like to speak to you in private. Will you step out for an 
 instant?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Jingle, rising hastily. " Can't step far no danger 
 of over-walking yourself here spike park grounds pretty romantic, 
 but not extensive open for public inspection family always in town 
 housekeeper desperately careful very." 
 
 " You have forgotten your coat," said Mr. Pickwick, as they walked 
 out to the staircase, and closed the door after them. 
 
 " Eh ?" said Jingle. " Spout dear relation uncle Tom couldn't 
 help it must eat, you know. Wants of nature and all that." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Gone, my dear Sir last coat can't help it. Lived on a pair of 
 boots whole fortnight. Silk umbrella ivory handle week fact 
 honour ask Job knows it." 
 
 " Lived for three weeks upon a pair of boots and a silk umbrella with 
 an ivory handle !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had only heard of such 
 things in shipwrecks, or read of them in Constable's Miscellany. 
 
 " True," said Jingle, nodding his head. " Pawnbroker's shop dupli- 
 cates here small sums mere nothing all rascals." 
 
 " Oh," said Mr. Pickwick, much relieved by this explanation ; " I 
 understand you. You have pawned your wardrobe." 
 
 " Every thing Job's too all shirts gone never mind saves wash- 
 ing. Nothing soon lie in bed starve die Inquest little bone- 
 house poor prisoner common necessaries hush it up gentlemen of 
 the jury warden's tradesmen keep it snug natural death coroner's 
 order workhouse funeral serve him right all over drop the curtain." 
 
 Jingle delivered this singular summary of his prospects in life with 
 his accustomed volubility, and with various twitches of the countenance 
 to counterfeit smiles. Mr. Pickwick easily perceived that his reckless- 
 ness was assumed, and looking him full, but not unkindly, in the face, 
 saw that his eyes were moist with tears. 
 
 "Good fellow," said Jingle, pressing his hand, and turning' his head 
 away. " Ungrateful dog boyish to cry can't help it bad fever 
 weak ill hungry. Deserved it all; but suffered much very." 
 Wholly unable to keep up appearances any longer, and perhaps rendered 
 worse by the effort he had made, the dejected stroller sat down on the 
 stairs, and, covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a child. 
 
 "Come, come," said Mr. Pickwick, with considerable emotion, 
 " we'll see what can be done whsn I know all about the matter. Here, 
 Job ; where is that fellow ? " 
 
 " Here, Sir," replied Job, presenting himself on the staircase. We 
 have described him, by-the-bye, as having deeply-sunken eyes in the 
 best of times ; in his present state of want and distress, he looked as 
 if those features had gone out of town altogether. 
 
 " Here, Sir," said Job. 
 
 " Come here, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, trying to look stern, with four 
 large tears running down his waistcoat. " Take that, Sir." 
 
 Take what ? In the ordinary acceptation of such language, it should 
 have been a blow. As the world runs, it ought to have been a sound,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 455 
 
 hearty cuff; for Mr. Pickwick had been" duped, deceived, and wronged 
 by the destitute outcast who was now wholly in his power. Must we 
 tell the truth ? It was something 1 from Mr. Pickwick's waistcoat- 
 pocket, which chinked as it was given into Job's hand : and the giving 
 which, somehow or other imparted a sparkle to the eye, and a swelling 
 to the heart of our excellent old friend, as he hurried away. 
 
 Sam had returned when Mr. Pickwick reached his own room, and 
 was inspecting the arrangements that had been made for his comfort, 
 with a kind of grim satisfaction which was very pleasant to look upon. 
 Having a decided objection to his master's being there at all, Mr. Weller 
 appeared to consider it a high moral duty not to appear too much 
 pleased with anything that was done, said, suggested, or proposed. 
 
 " Well, Sara," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Well, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Pretty comfortable now, eh, Sam ? " 
 
 " Pretty veil, Sir," responded Sam, looking round him in a disparaging 1 
 manner. 
 
 " Have you seen Mr. Tupman and our other friends ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have seen 'em, Sir, and they're a comin' to-morrow, and wos 
 wery much surprised to hear they warn't to come to-day," replied Sam. 
 
 " You have brought the things I wanted ? " 
 
 Mr. Weller in reply pointed to various packages which he had 
 arranged as neatly as he could, in a corner of the room. 
 
 " Very well, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, after a little hesitation ; 
 " listen to what I am going to say, Sam." 
 
 " Cert'nly, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller, " fire avay, Sir." 
 
 " I have felt from the first, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, with much 
 solemnity, " that this is not the place to bring a young man to." 
 
 " Nor an old 'un neither, Sir," observed Mr. Weller. 
 
 " You're quite right, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick ; "but old men may 
 come here through their own heedlessness and unsuspicion, and young 
 men may be brought here by the selfishness of those they serve. It is 
 better for those young men, in every point of view, that they should not 
 remain here. Do you understand me, Sam ? " 
 
 " Vy no, Sir, I do not," replied Mr. Weller, doggedly. 
 
 " Try, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Veil, Sir," rejoined Sam, after a short pause, " I think I see your 
 drift ; and if I do see your drift, it's my 'pinion that you're a comin' it 
 a great deal too strong, as the mail-coachman said to the snow storm, 
 ven it overtook him." 
 
 " I see you comprehend me, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. " Independ- 
 ently of my wish that you should not be idling about a place like this 
 for years to come, I feel that for a debtor in the Fleet to be attended 
 by his man-servant is a monstrous absurdity. Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 " for a time you must leave me." 
 
 " Oh, for a time, eh, Sir ? " rejoined Mr. Weller, rather sarcastically. 
 
 " Yes, for the time that I remain here," said Mr. Pickwick. " Your 
 wages I shall continue to pay. Any one of my three friends will be 
 happy to take you, were it only out of respect to me. And if I ever do
 
 456 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 leave this place, Sam," added Mr. Pickwick, with assumed cheerfulness 
 " if I do, I pledge you my word that you shall return to me instantly." 
 
 " Now I'll tell you wot it is, Sir," said Mr. Weller, in a grave and 
 solemn voice, " This here sort o' thing von't da at all. so don't let's 
 hear no more about it." 
 
 " I am serious, and resolved, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " You air, air you, Sir? " inquired Mr. Weller, firmly. " \Verv good, 
 Sir ; then so am I." 
 
 Thus speaking, Mr. Weller fixed his hat on his head with great pre- 
 cision, and abruptly left the room. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, calling after him, " Sam. Here." 
 
 But the long gallery ceased to re-echo the sound of footsteps. Sam 
 Weller was gone. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 SHOWING HOW MR. SAMUEL WELLER GOT INTO DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 IN a lofty room, badly lighted and worse ventilated, situate in 
 Portugal- street, Lincoln's Inn-fields, there sit nearly the whole year 
 round, one, two, three, or four gentlemen in wigs, as the case may be, 
 with little writing desks before them, constructed after the fashion of 
 those used by the judges of the land, barring the French polish; a box 
 of barristers on their right hand ; an inclosure of insolvent debtors on 
 their left ; and an inclined plane of most especially dirty faces in their 
 front. These gentlemen are the Commissioners of the Insolvent 
 Court, and the place in which they sit is the Insolvent Court itself. 
 
 It is, and has been, time out of mind, the remarkable fate- of this 
 Court to be somehow or other held and understood by the general 
 consent of all the destitute shabby-genteel people in London, as their 
 common resort, and place of daily refuge. It is always full. The steams 
 of beer and spirits perpetually ascend to the ceiling, and, being con- 
 densed by the heat, roll down the walls like rain : there are more old 
 suits of clothes in it at one time, than will be offered for sale in all 
 Houndsditch in a twelvemonth ; and more unwashed skins and grizzly 
 beards than all the pumps and shaving-shops between Tyburn and 
 Whitechapel could render decent between sunrise and sunset. 
 
 It must not be supposed that any of these people have the least 
 shadow of business in, or the remotest connexion with, the place they 
 so indefatigably attend. If they had, it would be no matter of surprise, 
 and the singularity of the thing would cease at once. Some of them 
 sleep during the greater part of the sitting ; others carry small portable 
 dinners wrapped in pocket handkerchiefs or sticking out of their worn- 
 out pockets, and munch and listen with equal relish ; but no one among 
 them was ever known to have the slightest personal interest in any
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 457 
 
 case that was ever brought forward. Whatever they do, there they 
 sit from the first moment to the last. When it is heavy rainy weather, 
 they all come in wet through ; and at such times the vapours of the 
 Court are like those of a fungus-pit. 
 
 A casual visitor might suppose this place to be a temple dedicated to 
 the Genius of Seediness. There is not a messenger or process-server 
 attached to it, who wears a coat that was made for him ; not a tolerably 
 fresh, or wholesome-looking man in the whole establishment, except 
 a little white-headed apple-faced tipstaff, and even he, like an ill-con- 
 ditioned cherry preserved in brandy, seems to have artificially dried and 
 withered up into a state of preservation, to which he can lay no natural 
 claim. The very barristers' wigs are ill-powdered, and their curls 
 lack crispness. 
 
 But the attorneys, who sit at a large bare table below the Commis- 
 sioners, are, after all, the greatest curiosities. The professional establish- 
 ment of the more opulent of these gentlemen, consists of a blue bag 
 and a boy : generally a youth of the Jewish persuasion. They have no fixed 
 offices, their legal business being transacted in the parlours of public 
 houses, or the yards of prisons, whither they repair in crowds, and canvass 
 for customers after the manner of omnibus cads. They are of a greasy 
 and mildewed appearance ; and if they can be said to have any vices at 
 all, perhaps drinking and cheating are the most conspicuous among 
 them. Their residences are usually on the outskirts of " the Rules," 
 chiefly lying within a circle of one mile from the obelisk in St. George's 
 Fields. Their looks are not prepossessing, and their manners are 
 peculiar. 
 
 Mr. Solomon Pell, one of this learned body, was a fat flabby pale 
 man, in a surtout which looked green one minute, and brown the next, 
 with a velvet collar of the same cameleon tints. His forehead was 
 narrow, his face wide, his head large, and his nose all on one side, as if 
 Nature, indignant with the propensities she observed in him in his birth, 
 had given it an angry tweak which it had never recovered. Being 
 short-necked arid asthmatic, however, he respired principally through 
 this feature; so, perhaps, what it wanted in ornament it made up in 
 usefulness. 
 
 " I'm sure to bring him through it," said Mr. Pell. 
 
 " Are you though ? " replied the person to whom the assurance was 
 pledged. 
 
 " Certain sure," replied Pell ; " but if he'd gone to any irregular 
 practitioner, mind you, I wouldn't have answered for the consequences." 
 
 "Ah ! " said the other, with open mouth. 
 
 "No, that I wouldn't," said Mr. Pell; and he pursed up his lips, 
 frowned, and shook his head mysteriously. 
 
 Now the place where this discourse occurred, was the public-house 
 just opposite to the Insolvent Court ; and the person with whom it was 
 held was no other than the elder Mr. Weller, who had come there to 
 comfort and console a friend, whose petition to be discharged under the 
 act was to be that day heard, and whose attorney he was at that moment 
 consulting. 
 
 " And vere is George?" inquired the old gentleman*
 
 458 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Pell jerked his head in the direction of a back parlour, whither 
 Mr. Weller at once repairing, was immediately greeted in the warmest 
 and most nattering manner by some half-dozen of his professional 
 brethren, in token of their gratification at his arrival. The insolvent 
 gentleman, who had contracted a speculative but imprudent passion for 
 horsing long stages, which had led to his present embarrassments, 
 looked extremely well, and was soothing the excitement of his feelings 
 with shrimps and porter. 
 
 The salutation between Mr. Weller and his friends was strictly con- 
 fined to the freemasonry of the craft ; consisting of a jerking round of 
 the right wrist, and a tossing of the little finger into the air at the same 
 time. We once knew two famous coachmen (they are dead now, poor 
 fellows) who were twins, and between whom an unaffected and devoted 
 attachment existed. They passed each other on the Dover road every 
 day, for twenty-four years, never exchanging any other greeting than 
 this ; and yet, when one died, the other pined away, and soon afterwards 
 followed him ! 
 
 " Veil, George," said Mr. Weller, senior, taking off his upper coat, 
 and seating himself with his accustomed gravity. " How is it ? All 
 right behind, and full inside ? " 
 
 " All right, old feller," replied the embarrassed gentlemen. 
 
 " Is the grey mare made over to any body ? " inquired Mr. Weller, 
 anxiously. 
 
 George nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " Veil, that's all right," said Mr. Weller. " Coach taken care on,also? " 
 
 " Con-signed in a safe quarter," replied George, wringing the heads 
 off half-a-dozen shrimps, and swallowing them without any more ado. 
 
 " Wery good, wery good," said Mr. Weller. " Alvays see to the 
 -drag ven you go down hill. Is the vay-bill all clear and straight 
 for'erd ? " 
 
 " The schedule, Sir," said Pell, guessing at Mr. Weller's mean- 
 ing, " the schedule is as plain and satisfactory as pen and ink can 
 make it." 
 
 Mr. Weller nodded in a manner which bespoke his inward approval 
 of these arrangements ; and then, turning to Mr. Pell, said, pointing to 
 his friend George, 
 
 " Ven do you take his cloths off?" 
 
 " Why," replied Mr. Pell, " he stands third on the opposed list, and 
 I should think it would be his turn in about half an hour. I told my 
 clerk to come over and tell us when there was a chance." 
 
 Mr. Weller surveyed the attorney from head to foot with great 
 admiration, and said emphatically, 
 
 " And what'll you take, Sir?" 
 
 " Why, really," replied Mr. Pell, " you're very . Upon my word 
 
 and honour, I'm not in the habit of . It's so very early in the 
 
 morning, that, actually, I am almost . Well, you may bring me 
 
 three penn'orth of rum, my dear." 
 
 The officiating damsel, who had anticipated the order before it was 
 given, set the glass of spirits before Pell, and retired.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 459 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Mr. Pell, looking round upon the company, 
 " Success to your friend. I don't like to boast, gentlemen ; it's not my 
 way ; but I can't help saying, that, if your friend hadn't been fortunate 
 
 enough to fall into hands that but I won't say what I was going to 
 
 say. Gentlemen, my service to you." Having emptied the glass in a 
 twinkling, Mr. Pell smacked his lips, and looked complacently round 
 on the assembled coachmen, who evidently regarded him as a species of 
 divinity. 
 
 "Let me see," said the legal authority "What was I a-saying, 
 gentlemen?" 
 
 " I think you was remarkin' as you wouldn't have no objection to 
 another o' the same, Sir," said Mr. Weller, with grave facetiousness. 
 
 " Ha, ha 1" laughed Mr. Pell. " Not bad, not bad. A professional 
 man, too! At this time of the morning it would be rather too good 
 
 a . Well, I don't know, my dear you may do that again, if you 
 
 please. Hem ! " 
 
 This last sound was a solemn and dignified cough, in which Mr. Pell, 
 observing an indecent tendency to mirth in some of his auditors, con- 
 sidered it due to himself to indulge. 
 
 " The late Lord Chancellor, gentlemen, was very fond of me," said 
 Mr. Pell. 
 
 " And wery creditable in him, too," interposed Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Hear, hear," assented Mr. Pell's client. " Why shouldn't he be?" 
 
 " Ah why, indeed ! " said a very red-faced man, who had said no- 
 thing yet, and who looked extremely unlikely to say anything more. 
 "Why shouldn't he?" 
 
 A murmur of assent ran through the company. 
 
 " I remember, gentlemen," said Mr. Pell, < dining with him on one 
 occasion ; there was only us two, but every thing as splendid as if 
 twenty people had been expected ; the great seal on a dumb-waiter at 
 his right hand, and a man in a bag-wig and suit of armour guarding 
 the mace with a drawn sword and silk stockings, which is perpetually 
 done, gentlemen, night and day; when he said, 'Pell,' he said; 'no 
 false delicacy, Pell. You're a man of talent; you can get any body 
 through the Insolvent Court, Pell ; and your country should be proud 
 of you.' Those were his very words. ' My Lord,' I said, ' you flatter 
 me.' Pell,' he said, ' if I do, I'm damned.' " 
 
 " Did he say that?" inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " He did," replied Pell. 
 
 " Veil, then," said Mr. Weller, " I say Parliament ought to ha' taken 
 it up ; and if he'd been a poor man, they would ha' done it." 
 
 " But, my dear friend," argued Mr. Pell, " it was in confidence." 
 
 In what?" said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " In confidence." 
 
 " Oh ! wery good," replied Mr. Weller, after a little reflection. " If 
 he damned his-self in confidence, o' course that was another thing." 
 
 " Of course it was," said Mr. Pell. " The distinction's obvious, you 
 will perceive." 
 
 " Alters the case entirely," said Mr. Weller. " Go on, Sir."
 
 4bU POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " No j I will not go on, Sir," said Mr. Pell, in a low and serious 
 tone. " You have reminded me, Sir, that this conversation was private 
 private and confidential, gentlemen. Gentlemen, I am a professional 
 man. It may be that I am a good deal looked up to, in my profession 
 it may be that I am not. Most people know. I say nothing. Observa- 
 tions have already been made, in this room, injurious to the reputation 
 of my noble friend. You will excuse me, gentlemen ; I was imprudent. 
 I feel that I have no right to mention this matter without his concur- 
 rence. Thank you, Sir; thank you." Thus delivering himself, Mr. 
 Pell thrust his hands into his pockets, and, frowning grimly around, 
 rattled three-halfpence with terrible determination. 
 
 This virtuous resolution had scarcely been formed, when the boy and 
 the blue bag, who were inseparable companions, rushed violently into 
 the room, and said (at least the boy did ; for the blue bag took no part 
 in the announcement) that the case was coming on directly. The in- 
 telligence was no sooner received than the whole party hurried across 
 the street, and began to fight their way into Court a preparatory cere- 
 mony, which has been calculated to occupy, in ordinary cases, from 
 twenty-five minutes to thirty. 
 
 Mr. Weller being stout, cast himself at once into the crowd, with the 
 desperate hope of ultimately turning up in some place which would 
 suit him. His success was not quite equal to his expectations, for 
 having neglected to take his hat off, it was knocked over his eyes by 
 some unseen person, upon whose toes he had alighted with considerable 
 force. Apparently this individual regretted his impetuosity immediately 
 afterwards, for, muttering an indistinct exclamation of surprise, he 
 dragged the old man out into the hall, and, after a violent straggle, 
 released his head and face. 
 
 " Samivel ! " exclaimed Mr. Weller, when he was thus enabled to 
 behold his rescuer. 
 
 Sam nodded. / 
 
 " You're a dutiful and affectionate little boy, you are, ain't you ? " 
 said Mr. Weller, " to come a bonnetin' your father in his old 
 age?" 
 
 " How should I know who you wos ? " responded the son. " Do 
 you s'pose I wos to tell you by the weight o' your foot?" 
 
 " Veil, that's wery true, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, mollified at 
 once ; "but wot are you a doin' on here ? Your gov'nor can't do no good 
 here, Sammy. They von't pass that werdict ; they von't pass it, 
 Sammy." And Mr. Weller shook his head with legal solemnity. 
 
 " Wot a perwerse old file it is !" exclaimed Sam, " alvays a goin' on 
 about werdicts and alleybis, and that. Who said anything about the 
 werdict ? " 
 
 Mr. Weller made no reply, but once more shook his head most 
 learnedly. 
 
 " Leave off rattlin' that 'ere nob o' yourn, if you don't want it to 
 come off the springs altogether," said Sam impatiently, " and behave 
 reasonable. I vent all the yay down to the Markis o' Granby arter you 
 last night."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 461 
 
 " Did you see the Marchionness o' Granby, Sammy ? " inquired Mr. 
 Weller, with a sigh. 
 
 " Yes, I did," replied Sam. 
 
 " How wos the dear creetur lookin' ? " 
 
 " Wery queer," said Sam. " I think she's a injurin' herself gradivally 
 vith too much o' that 'ere pine-apple rum, and other strong medicines 
 o' the same natur." 
 
 " You don't mean that, Sammy ?" said the senior, earnestly. 
 
 " I do, indeed," replied the junior. 
 
 Mr. Weller seized his son's hand, clasped it, and let it fall. There 
 was an expression on his countenance in doing so not of dismay or 
 apprehension, but partaking more of the sweet and gentle character of 
 hope. A gleam of resignation, and even of cheerfulness, passed over 
 his face too, as he slowly said "I ain't quite certain, Sammy; I 
 wouldn't like to say I wos altogether positive, in case of any subsekent 
 disappintment, but I rayther think, my boy I rayther think that the 
 shepherd's got the liver complaint ! " 
 
 "Does he look bad? " inquired Sam. 
 
 " He's uncommon pale," replied his father, " 'cept about the nose, 
 vich is redder than ever. His appetite is wery so-so, but he imbibes 
 wunderful." 
 
 Some thoughts of the rum appeared to obtrude themselves on Mr. 
 Weller's mind as he said this, for he looked gloomy and thoughtful ; 
 but very shortly recovered, as was testified by a perfect alphabet of 
 winks, in which he was only wont to indulge when particularly pleased. 
 
 "Veil, now," said Sam, "about my affair. Just open them ears 
 o' yourn, and don't say nothin' till I've clone." With this brief preface, 
 Sam related, as succinctly as he could, the last memorable conversation 
 he had had with Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Stop there by himself, poor creetur!" exclaimed the elder Mr. 
 Weller, " without nobody to take his part ! It can't be done, Samivel, 
 it can't be done." 
 
 " O' course it can't," asserted Sam ; " I know'd that afore I came." 
 
 " Vy, they '11 eat him up alive, Sammy," exclaimed Mr. Weller. 
 
 Sam nodded his concurrence in the opinion. 
 
 " He goes in rayther raw, Sammy," said Mr. Weller metaphorically, 
 " and he'll come out done so ex-ceedin' brown, that his most formiliar 
 friends won't know him. Roast pigeon 's nothin' to it, Sammy." 
 
 Again Sam Weller nodded. 
 
 u It oughtn't to be, Samivel," said Mr. Weller, gravely. 
 
 " It mustn't be," said Sam. 
 
 " Cert'nly not," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Veil now," said Sam, " you've been a prophecyin' avay wery fine, 
 like a red-faced Nixon, as the sixpenny books gives pictexs on." 
 
 " Who wos he, Sammy ?" inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Never mind who he was," retorted Sam ; " he warn't a coachman, 
 that's enough for you." 
 
 " I know'd a ostler o' that name/' said Mr. Weller, musing. 
 
 " It warn't him," said Sam. " This here gen'lm'n was a prophet."
 
 462 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Wot's a prophet ? " inquired Mr. Weller, looking sternly on his son. 
 
 " Vy, a man as tells what's a goin' to happen," replied Sam. 
 
 " I wish I'd know'd him, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. " P'raps he 
 might ha' throw'd a small light on that 'ere liver complaint as we wos a 
 speakin' on just now. Hows'ever, if he's dead, and ain't left the bisness 
 to nobody, there's an end on it. Go on, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Veil," said Sam, " you're been a prophecyin' avay about wot'll 
 happen to the gov'nor if he's left alone. Don't you see any vay o' 
 takin' care on him ? " 
 
 " No, I don't, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, with a reflective visage. 
 
 " No vay at all ? " inquired Sam: 
 
 " No vay," said Mr. Weller, "unless" and a gleam of intelligence 
 lighted up his countenance as he sunk his voice to a whisper, and applied 
 his mouth to the ear of his offspring" unless it is getting him out in 
 a turn-up bedstead, unbeknown to the turnkeys, Sammy, or dressin' him 
 up like an old 'ooman vith a green wail." 
 
 Sam Weller received both of these suggestions with unexpected con- 
 tempt, and again propounded his question. 
 
 " No," said the old gentleman ; " if he von't let you stop there, I see 
 no vay at all. Its no thoroughfare, Sammy no thoroughfare." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll tell you wot it is," said Sam, " I'll trouble you for 
 the loan of five-and-tventy pound." 
 
 " Wot good 'ull that do ? " inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Never mind," replied Sam. " P'raps you may ask for it five minits 
 artervards ; p'raps I may say I von't pay, and cut up rough. You von't 
 think o' arrestin' your own son for the money, and sendin' him off to the 
 Fleet, will you, you unnat'ral wagabond ? " 
 
 At this reply of Sam's, the father and son exchanged a complete code 
 of sly telegraphic nods and gestures, after which, the elder Mr. Weller 
 sat himself down on a stone step, and laughed till he was purple. 
 
 " Wot a old image it is ! " exclaimed Sam, indignant at this loss of 
 time. " What are you a settin' down there for, con-wertin' your face 
 into a street-door knocker, ven there's so much to be done. Vere's the 
 
 monev 
 
 " In the, boot, Sammy, in the boot," replied Mr. Weller, composing 
 his features. " Hold my hat, Sammy." 
 
 Having divested himself of this incumbrance, Mr. Weller gave his 
 body a sudden wrench to one side, and, by a dexterous twist, contrived 
 to get his right hand into a most capacious pocket, from whence, after a 
 great deal of panting and exertion, he extricated a pocket-book of the 
 large octavo size, fastened by a huge leather strap. From thence he 
 drew forth a couple of whip-lashes, three or four buckles, a little sample- 
 bag of corn, and finally a small roll of very dirty bank-notes, from which 
 he selected the required amount, which he handed over to Sam. 
 
 " And now, Sammy," said the old gentleman, when the whip-lashes, 
 and the buckles, and the sample, had been all put back, and the book 
 once more deposited at the bottom of the same pocket, ' Now, Sammy, 
 I know a gen'lm'n here, as '11 do the rest o' the bisness for us, in no time
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 463 
 
 a limb o* the law, Sammy, as has got brains like the frogs, dispersed 
 all over his body, and reachin' to the wery tips of his fingers ; a friend 
 of the Lord Chancellorship's, Sammy, who'd only have to tell him what 
 he wanted, and he'd lock you up for life, if that wos all." 
 
 " I say," said Sam, " none o' that." 
 
 '* None o' wot ? " inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Vy, none o' them unconstitootional ways o' doin 1 it," retorted Sam. 
 " The have-his-carcase, next to the perpetual motion, is vun o' the 
 blessedest things as wos ever made. I've read that 'ere in the news- 
 papers wery of'en." 
 
 " Well, wot's that got to do vith it ? " inquired Mr. Weller. 
 
 "Just this here," said Sam, "that I'll patronise the inwention, and 
 go in, that vay. No visperin's to the Chancellorship I don't like the 
 notion. It mayn't be altogether safe, vith reference to the gettin' out 
 agin." 
 
 Deferring to his son's feeling upon this point, Mr. Weller at once 
 sought the erudite Solomon Pell, and acquainted him with his desire to 
 issue a writ instantly for the sum of twenty-five pounds, and costs of 
 process, to be executed without delay upon the body of one Samuel 
 Weller ; the charges thereby incurred to be paid in advance to Solomon 
 Pell. 
 
 The attorney was in high glee, for the embarrassed coach-horser was 
 ordered to be discharged forthwith. He highly approved of Sam's 
 attachment to his master ; declared that it strongly reminded him of his 
 own feelings of devotion to his friend, the Chancellor ; and at once led 
 the elder Mr. Weller down to the Temple, to swear the affidavit of debt, 
 which the boy, with the assistance of the blue bag, had drawn up on 
 the spot. 
 
 Meanwhile Sam, having been formally introduced to the white- 
 washed gentleman and his friends, as the offspring of Mr. Weller, 
 of the Belle Sauvage, was treated with marked distinction, and invited 
 to regale himself with them in honour of the occasion an invitation 
 which he was by no means backward in accepting. 
 
 The mirth of gentlemen of this class is of a grave and quiet character 
 usually ; but the present instance was one of peculiar festivity, and they 
 relaxed in proportion. After some rather tumultuous toasting of the 
 Chief Commissioner and Mr. Solomon Pell, who had that day displayed 
 such transcendant abilities, a mottled-faced gentleman in a blue shawl 
 proposed that somebody should sing a song. The obvious suggestion 
 was, that the mottled-faced gentleman, being anxious for a song, should 
 sing it himself; but this the mottled -faced gentleman sturdily, and 
 somewhat offensively, declined to do ; upon which, as is not unusual in 
 such cases, a rather angry colloquy ensued. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the coach-horser, " rather than disturb the har- 
 mony of this delightful occasion, perhaps Mr. Samuel Weller will oblige 
 the company." 
 
 " Raly, gentlemen," said Sam, " I'm not wery much in the habit o' 
 singin' vithout the instrument ; but anythin' for a quiet life, as the 
 man said ven he took the sitivation at the light-house."
 
 464 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 With this prelude, Mr. Samuel Weller bnrst at once into the follow- 
 ing wild and beautiful legend, which, under the impression that it is 
 not generally known, we take the liberty of quoting. We wonld beg 
 to call particular attention to the monosyllable at the end of the second 
 and fourth lines, which not only enables the singer to take breath at 
 those points, but greatly assists the metre. 
 
 i&omanct. 
 
 Bold Turpin vunce, on Hounslcnv Heath, 
 
 His bold mare Bess bestrode er ; 
 
 Ven there he see'd the Bishop's coach 
 
 A-comin' along the road er. 
 
 So he gallops close to the orse's legs, 
 
 And he claps his head vithin; 
 
 And the Bishop says, " Sure as eggs is eggs, 
 
 This here's the bold Turpin!" 
 
 (CHORUS.) And the Bishop says, " Sure as eggs is eggs, 
 This here's the bold Turpin I " 
 
 Says Turpin, " You shall eat your word?, 
 With a sarse of leaden bwl lei;" 
 So he puts a pistol to his mouth, 
 And he fires it down his gul let. 
 The coachman, he not likin' the job, 
 Set off at a full gal-lop, 
 But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob, 
 And perwailed on him to stop. 
 
 (CHORUS sarcastically.) But Dick put a couple of balls in his no'/, 
 And perwailed on him to stop. 
 
 " I maintain thatthat 'ere song's personal to the cloth,"said the mottled- 
 faced gentleman, interrupting it at this point. " I demand the name o' 
 that coachman." 
 
 " Nobody know'd," replied Sara'. " He hadn't got his card in his 
 pocket." 
 
 " I object to the introduction o' politics," said the mottled-faced gen- 
 tleman. " I submit that, in the present company, that 'ere song's poli- 
 tical ; and, wot's much the same, that it ain't true. I say that that 
 coachman did not run avay ; but that he died game game as pheasants ; 
 and I won't hear nothin' said to the contrairey." 
 
 As the mottled-faced gentleman spoke with great energy and deter- 
 mination, and as the opinions of the company seemed divided on the sub- 
 ject, it threatened to give rise to fresh altercation, when Mr. Weller 
 and Mr. Pell most opportunely arrived. 
 
 " All right, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 " The officer will be here at four o'clock," said Mr. Pell. " I suppose 
 you won't run away meanwhile eh ? Ha ! ha !"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 465 
 
 " Fraps my cruel pa 'nil relent afore that," replied Sam, with a broad 
 gr n. 
 
 I Not I," said the elder Mr. Weller. 
 : Do," said Sam. 
 
 ' Not on no account," replied the inexorable creditor. 
 I'll give bills for the amount at sixpence a month," said Sam. 
 
 I 1 won't take 'em," said Mr. Weller. 
 
 ' Ha, ha, ha ! very good, very good," said Mr. Solomon Pell, who 
 was making out his little bill of costs ; " a very amusing incident indeed. 
 Benjamin, copy that," and Mr. Pell smiled again, as he called Mr. 
 Weller's attention to the amount. 
 
 " Thank you, thank you," said the professional gentleman, taking up 
 another of the greasy notes as Mr. Weller took it from the pocket-book. 
 " Three ten and one ten is five. Much obliged to you, Mr. W T eller. 
 Your son is a most deserving young man, very much so indeed, Sir. 
 It's a very pleasant trait in a young man's character very much so," 
 added Mr. Pell, smiling smoothly round, as he buttoned up the money. 
 
 "Wot a game it is!" said the elder Mr. Weller, with a chuckle. 
 " A reg'lar prodigy son !" 
 
 " Prodigal prodigal son, Sir," suggested Mr. Pell, mildly. 
 
 " Never mind, Sir," said Mr. Weller, with dignity. " I know wot's 
 o'clock, Sir. Ven I don't, I'll ask you, Sir." 
 
 By the time the officer arrived, Sam had made himself so extremely 
 popular, that the congregated gentlemen determined to see him to pri- 
 son in a body. So off they set ; the plaintiff and defendant walking 
 arm-in-arm, the officer in front, and eight stout coachmen bringing up 
 the rear. At Sergeants' Inn Coffee-house the whole party halted to 
 refresh ; and, the legal arrangements being completed, the procession 
 moved on again. 
 
 Some little commotion was occasioned in Fleet Street by the plea- 
 santry of the eight gentlemen in the flank, who persevered in walking 
 four abreast ; and it was also found necessary to leave the mottled-faced 
 gentleman behind, to fight a ticket-porter, it being arranged that his 
 friends should call for him as they came back. Nothing but these 
 little incidents occurred on the way. When they reached the gate of 
 the Fleet, the cavalcade, taking the time from the plaintiff, gave three 
 tremendous cheers for the defendant ; and, after having shaken hands 
 all round, left him. 
 
 Sam having been formally delivered into the warden's custody, to 
 the intense astonishment of Roker, and to the evident emotion of even 
 the phlegmatic Neddy, passed at once into the prison, walked straight 
 to his master's room, and knocked at the door. 
 
 " Come in," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Sam appeared, pulled off his hat, and smiled. 
 
 " Ah, Sam, my good lad," said Mr. Pickwick, evidently delighted 
 to see his humble friend again; "I had no intention of hurting your 
 feelings yesterday, my faithful fellow, by what I said. Put down your 
 hat, Sam, and let me explain my meaning a little more at length." 
 
 "Won't presently do, Sir?" inquired Sam.
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Pickwick; "but why not now?" 
 
 " I'd rayther not now, Sir," rejoined Sara. 
 
 " Why ?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "'Cause," said Sam, hesitating. 
 
 " Because of what?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, alarmed at his follower's 
 manner. " Speak out, Sam." 
 
 "'Cause," rejoined Sam; "'cause I've got a little bisness as I want 
 to do." 
 
 " What business ? " inquired Mr. Pickwick, surprised at Sam's con- 
 fused manner. 
 
 " Nothin 1 partickler, Sir," replied Sam. 
 
 " Oh, if it's nothing- particular," said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile, 
 " you can speak with me first." 
 
 " I think I'd better see arter it at once," said Sam, still hesitating. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick looked amazed, but said nothing. 
 
 " The fact is " said Sam, stopping short. 
 
 " Well ! " said Mr. Pickwick. Speak out, Sam." 
 
 " Why, the fact is," said Sam, with a desperate effort, " P'raps I'd 
 better see arter my bed afore I do anythin' else." 
 
 " Your bed ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, my bed, Sir," replied Sam. " I'm a prisoner. I was arrested 
 this here wery arternoon for debt." 
 
 "You arrested for debt!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sinking into a 
 chair. 
 
 " Yes, for debt, Sir," replied Sam ; " and the man as put me in 'ull 
 never let me out, till you go yourself." 
 
 " Bless my heart and^ soul ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. " What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " Wot I say, Sir," rejoined Sam. " If it's forty year to come, I 
 shall be a pris'ner, and I'm very glad on it ; and if it had been New- 
 gate, it vould ha' been just the same. Now the murder's out, and, 
 damme, there's an end on it." 
 
 With these words, which he repeated with great emphasis and vio- 
 lence, Sam Weller dashed his hat upon the ground, in a most unusual 
 state of excitement; and then, folding his arms, looked firmly and 
 fixedly in his master's face.
 
 THB PICKWICK CLUB. 467 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 TREATS OP DIVERS LITTLE MATTERS WHICH OCCURRED IN THE 
 
 FLEET, AND OP MR. WINKLE'S MYSTERIOUS BEHAVIOUR ; AND 
 
 SHOWS HOW THE TOOIl CHANCERY PRISONER OBTAINED HIS 
 RELEASE AT LAST. 
 
 MR. PICKWICK felt a great deal too much touched by the warmth of 
 Sam's attachment, to be able to exhibit any manifestation of anger or 
 displeasure at the precipitate course he had adopted, in voluntarily 
 consigning himself to a debtors' prison for an indefinite period. The 
 only point on which he persevered in demanding any explanation, was, 
 the name of Sam's detaining creditor, but this Mr. Weller as perse- 
 veringly withheld. 
 
 " It ain't o' no use, Sir," said Sam, again and again. " He's a 
 ma-licious, bad-disposed, vorldly-minded, spiteful, windictive creetur, 
 with a hard heart as there ain't no soft'nin, as the wirtuous clergyman 
 remarked of the old gen'lm'n with the dropsy, ven he said, that 
 upon the whole he thought he'd rayther leave his property to his vife 
 than build a chapel vith it." 
 
 " But consider, Sam," Mr. Pickwick remonstrated, " the sum is so 
 small that it can very easily be paid, and having made up my mind that 
 you shall stop with me, you should recollect how much more useful you 
 would be, if you could go outside the walls." 
 
 "Wery much obliged to you, Sir," replied Mr. Weller gravely; 
 " but I'd rayther not." 
 
 " Rather not do what, Sam ? " 
 
 " Vy, Sir, I'd rayther not let myself down to ask a favor o' this here 
 unremorseful enemy." 
 
 " But it is no favour asking him to take the money, Sam," reasoned 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Beg your pardon, Sir," rejoined Sam; "but it 'ud be a wery 
 great favor to pay it, and he don't deserve none; that's vere it is, 
 Sir." 
 
 Here Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his nose with an air of some vexa- 
 tion, Mr. Weller thought it prudent to change the theme of the dis- 
 course. 
 
 " I takes my determination on principle, Sir," remarked Sam, 
 "and you takes yours on the same ground; vich puts me in mind 
 o' the man as killed his-self on principle, vich o' course you've heerd on, 
 Sir." Mr. Weller paused when he arrived at this point, and cast a 
 comical look at his master out of the corners of his eyes. 
 
 " There is no of course in the case, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, gra-
 
 468 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 dually breaking into a smile, in spite of the uneasiness which Sam's 
 obstinacy had given him. " The fame of the gentleman in question 
 never reached my ears." 
 
 " No, Sir ! " exclaimed Mr. Weller. " You astonish me, Sir ; he 
 wos a clerk in a gov'ment office, Sir." 
 
 "Was he?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Yes, he wos, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller; "and a wery pleasant 
 gen'lnvn too one o' the percise and tidy sort, as puts their feet in 
 little India-rubber fire-buckets ven its vet veather, and never has no 
 other bosom friends but hare-skins; he saved up his money on princi- 
 ple, vore a clean shirt ev'ry day on principle, never spoke to none 
 of his relations on principle, 'fear they shou'd want to borrow money 
 of him ; and wos altogether, in fact, an uncommon agreeable cha- 
 racter. He had his hair cut on principle vunce a fortnight, and con- 
 tracted for his clothes on the economic principle three suits a year, 
 and send back the old vuns. Being a wery reg'lar geii'lm'n he din'd 
 ev'ry day at the same place, vere it wus one and ninepence to cut off the 
 joint; and a wery good one and ninepence worth he used to cut, as the 
 landlord often said, vith the tears a tricklin' down his face, let alone 
 the vay he used to poke the fire in the vinter time, vieh wos a dead loss 
 o' four-pence ha'penny a day, to say nothin' at ail o' the aggrawation 
 o' seein' him do it. So uncommon grand vith it too ! ' Post arter the 
 next gen'lnvn/ he sings out ev'ry day ven he comes in. ' See arter the 
 Times, Thomas ; let me look at the Mornin' Herald, ven it's out o' 
 hand ; don't forgot to bespeak the Chronicle ; and just bring the 'Tizer 
 vill you :' and then he'd set vith his eyes fixed on the clock, and rush 
 out just a quarter of a minit afore the time tovaylay the boy as wos a 
 comin' in vith the evenin' paper, vich he'd read vith sich intense inte- 
 rest and persewerance, as vorked the other customers up to the wery 
 confines o' desperation and insanity, 'specially one i-rascible old gen'l- 
 nvn as the vaiter wos alvays obliged to keep a sharp eye on at sich 
 times, 'fear he should be tempted to commit some rash act vith the 
 carving knife. Veil, Sir, here he'd stop, occtipyin' the b(?st place for 
 three hours, and never takin' nothin' arter his dinner but sleep, and 
 then he'd go avay to a coffeehouse a few streets off, and have a small 
 pot o' coffee and four crumpets, arter vich he'd valk home to Kensington 
 and go to bed. One night he wos took very ill ; sends for the doctor ; 
 doctor comes in a green fly, vith a kind o' Robinson Crusoe set o' steps 
 as he could let down ven he got out, and pull up arter him veil he got 
 in, to perwent the necessity o' the coachman's gettin' down, and thereby 
 undeceivin' the public by lettin' 'em see that it wos only a livery coat 
 he'd got on, and not the trousers to match. * Wot's the matter?' 
 says the doctor. 'Wery ill,' says the patient. 'Wot have you been 
 a eatin' of?' says the doctor. ' Koast weal/ says the patient. " Wot's 
 the last thing you dewoured ? ' says the doctor." * Crumpets/ says the 
 patient. ''That's it/ says the doctor. * I'll send you a box of pills 
 directly, and don't you never take no more o' them/ he says. ' Xo 
 more o' wot?' says the patient 'Pills!' 'No; crumpets/ says the 
 doctor. * Wy ? ' says the patient, starting up in bed ; ' I've eat four 
 crumpets ev'ry night for fifteen year on principle.' ' Veil, then, you'd
 
 THE PICKWICK CLtB. 469 
 
 better leave 'em off on principle,' says the doctor. ' Crumpets is 
 wholesome, Sir,' says the patient. ' Crumpets is not wholesome, Sir,' 
 says the doctor, wery fiercely. ' But they're so cheap/says the patient, 
 coinin' down a little, 'and so wery fillin' at the price.' 'They'd be 
 dear to you at any price; dear if you wos paid to eat 'em,' says the 
 doctor. 'Four crumpets a night,' he says, ' vill do your bisness in six 
 months!' The patient looks him full in the face, and turns it over 
 in his mind for a long time, and at last he says, ' Are you sure o' 
 that 'ere, Sir?' ' I'll stake my professional reputation on it,' says the 
 doctor. ' How many crumpets at a sittin' do you think 'ud kill me off 
 at once ? ' says the patient. ' I don't know,' says the doctor. ' Do you 
 think half a crown's vurth 'ud do it,' says the patient. ' I think it 
 might,' says the doctor. ' Three shillin's vurth 'ud be sure to do it, I 
 s'pose?' says the patient. 'Certainly,' says the doctor. ' Wery good,' 
 says the patient ; 'good night.' Next mornin' he gets up, has a tire 
 lit, orders in three shillins' vurth o' crumpets, toasts 'em all, eats 
 : em all, and blows his brains out." 
 
 " What did he do that for ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick abruptly ; for 
 he was considerably startled by this tragical termination of the nar- 
 rative. 
 
 " Wot did he do it for, Sir ! " reiterated Sam. " Wy, in support of 
 his great principle that crumpets wos wholesome, and to show that 
 he vouldn't be put out of his vay for nobody !" 
 
 With such like shiftings and changings of the discourse, did Mr. 
 Weller meet his master's questioning upon the night of his taking 
 up his residence in the Fleet: finding all gentle remonstrance use- 
 less, Mr. Pickwick at length yielded a reluctant consent to his taking 
 lodgings by the week, of a bald-headed cobbler, who rented a small 
 slip room in one of the upper galleries. To this humble apartment 
 Mr. Weller moved a mattrass and bedding, which he hired of Mr. 
 Roker ; and by the time he lav down upon it at night was as much at 
 home as if he had been bred in the prison, and his whole family had 
 vegetated therein for three generations. 
 
 " Do you alvays smoke arter you goes to bed, old cock?" enquired 
 Mr. Weller of his landlord, when they had both retired for the night. 
 
 " Yes, I does, young bantam," replied the cobbler. 
 
 " Vill you allow me to en-quire vy you make up your bed under that 
 'ere deal table?" said Sam. 
 
 " 'Cause I was alvays used to a four-poster afore I came here, 
 and I find the legs of the table answer just as well," replied the 
 cobbler. 
 
 " You're a character, Sir," said Sam. 
 
 " I haven't got anything of the kind belonging to me," rejoined the 
 cobbler, shaking his head; " and if you want to meet with a good one, 
 I'm afraid you'll find some difficulty in suiting yourself at this register 
 office." 
 
 The above short dialogue took place as Mr. Weller lay extended on 
 his mattrass at one end of the room, and the cobbler on his at the other; 
 the apartment being illumined by the light of a rush candle and the 
 L L 2
 
 470 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 cobbler's pipe, which was glowing below the table like a red-hot coal. 
 The conversation, brief as it was, predisposed Mr. Weller strongly in 
 his landlord's favour, and raising himself on his elbow he took a more 
 lengthened survey of his appearance than he had yet had either time 
 or inclination to make. 
 
 He was a sallow man all cobblers are ; and had a strong bristly 
 beard all cobblers have ; his face was a queer, good-tempered, crooked 
 featured piece of workmanship, ornamented with a couple of eyes that 
 must have worn a very joyous expression at one time, for they sparkled 
 yet. The man was sixty by years, and Heaven knows how old by im- 
 prisonment, so that his having any look approaching to mirth or con- 
 tentment was singular enough. He was a little man, and being half 
 doubled up as he lay in bed, looked about as long as he ought to have 
 been without his legs. He had got a great red pipe in his mouth, 
 and was smoking and staring at the rushlight in a state of enviable 
 placidity. 
 
 " Have you been here long?" enquired Sam, breaking the silence 
 which had lasted for some time. 
 
 " Twelve years," replied the cobbler, biting the end of his pipe as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Contempt ? " enquired Sam. 
 
 The cobbler nodded. 
 
 " Veil, then," said Sam, with some sternness, "wot do you persevere 
 in bein' obstinit for, vastin' your precious life avny in this here magni- 
 fied pound? Vy don't you give in, and tell the Chancellorship that 
 you're wery sorry for makin' his court contemptible, and you won't do 
 so no more ? '" 
 
 The cobbler put his pipe in the corner of his mouth while he smiled, 
 and then brought it back to its old place again, but said nothing. 
 
 " Vy don't you?" said Sam, urging his question strenuously. 
 
 " Ah," said the cobbler, " you don't quite understand these matters. 
 What do you suppose ruined me, now?" 
 
 "Vy,"said Sam, trimming the rushlight, "I s'pose the beginnin' 
 wos, that you got into debt, eh ? " 
 
 "Never owed a farden," said the cobbler; "try again." 
 
 "Veil, perhaps," said Sam, "you bought houses, vich is delicate 
 English for goin' mad ; or took to buildin', vich is a medical term for 
 bein' incurable." 
 
 The cobbler shook his head, and said " Try again." 
 
 " You didn't go to law, I hope?" said Sam, suspiciously. 
 
 ' f Never in my life," replied the cobbler. " The fact is, I was ruined 
 by having money left me." 
 
 " " Come, come," said Sam, " that von't do. I vish some rich enemy 
 'ud try to vork my destruction in that 'ere vay. I'd let him." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say you don't believe it," said the cobbler, quietly 
 smoking his pipe. "I wouldn't if I was you; but it's true.jfor all 
 that/' 
 
 " How wos it?" inquired Sam, half induced to believe the fact already 
 by the look the cobbler gave him. 
 
 "Just this," replied the cobbler; <f an old gentleman that I worked
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 471 
 
 for, down in the country, and a humble relation of whose I married 
 she's dead, God bless her, and thank Him for it was seized with a fit 
 and went off." 
 
 "Where?" inquired Sam, who was growing sleepy after the numer- 
 ous events of the day. 
 
 " How should I know where he went ? " said the cobbler, speaking 
 through his nose in an intense enjoyment of his pipe. " He went off 
 dead." 
 
 " Oh, that indeed," said Sam. " Veil ? " 
 
 " Well," said the cobbler, " he left five thousand pound behind 
 him." 
 
 " And wery gen-teel in him so to do," said Sam. 
 
 "One of which," continued the cobbler, "he left to me, 'cause I'd 
 married his relation you see." 
 
 " Wery good," murmured Sam. 
 
 <c And being surrounded by a great number of nieces and nevys, as 
 was always quarrelling and fighting among themselves for the property, 
 he makes me his executor, and leaves the rest to me in trust, to divide 
 it among 'em as the will prowided." 
 
 "Wot do you mean by leavin' it on trust?" inquired Sam, waking 
 up a little. " Jf it ain't ready money, vere's the use on it ?" 
 
 "It's a law term, that's all," said the cobbler. 
 
 "I don't think that," said Sam, shaking his head. "There's wery 
 little trust at that shop. Hows'ever, go on." 
 
 " Well," said the cobbler, " when I was going to take out a probate 
 of the will, the nieces and nevys, who was desperately disappointed at 
 not getting all the money, enters a caveat against it." 
 
 " What's that?" inquired Sam. 
 
 " A legal instrument, which is as much as to say, it's no go/' replied 
 the cobbler. 
 
 " I see," said Sam, " a sort of brother-in-law o' the have-his-carcase. 
 Veil." 
 
 "But," continued the cobbler, "finding that they couldn't agree 
 among themselves, and consequently couldn't get up a case against the 
 will, they withdrew the caveat, and I paid all the legacies. I'd hardly 
 done it, when one uevy brings an action to set the will aside. The case 
 comes on some months afterwards, before a deaf old gentleman, in a 
 back room somewhere down by Paul's Churchyard ; and after four 
 counsels had taken a day a-piece to bother him regularly, he takes a 
 veek or two to consider and read the evidence in six volhims, and then 
 gives his judgment that how the testator was not quite right in his head, 
 and I must pay all the money back again, and all the costs. I appealed ; 
 the case come on before three or four very sleepy gentlemen, who had 
 heard it all before in the other court, where they're lawyers without 
 work ; the only difference being, that there they're called doctors, and 
 in the other place delegates, if you understand that ; and they very 
 dutifully confirmed the decision of the old gentleman below. After 
 that we went into Chancery, where we are still, and where I shall 
 always be. My lawyers have had all my thousand pound long ago; arid 
 what between the estate, as they call it, and the costs, I'm here for ten
 
 472 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 thousand, and shall stop here till I die, mending shoes. Some gentle- 
 men have talked of bringing it before parliament, and I dare say would 
 have done it, only they hadn't time to come to me, and I hadn't power 
 to go to them ; and they got tired of my long letters, and dropped the 
 business. And this is God's truth, without one word of suppression or 
 exaggeration, as fifty people, both in this place and out of it, very well 
 know." 
 
 The cobbler paused to ascertain what effect his story had produced 
 upon Sam ; but finding that he had dropped asleep, knocked the ashes 
 out of his pipe, sighed, put it down, drew the bedclothes over his head, 
 and went to sleep too. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was sitting at breakfast alone next morning. Sam being 
 busily engaged in the cobbler's room, polishing his master's shoes and 
 brushing the black gaiters, when there came a knock at the door, which, 
 before Mr. Pickwick could cry " Come in," was followed by the appear- 
 ance of a head of hair and a cotton-velvet cap, both of which articles of 
 dress he had no difficulty in recognising as the personal property of 
 Mr. Smangle. 
 
 "How are you?" said that worthy, accompanying the inquiry with 
 a score or two of nods ; " I say, do you expect anybody this morning ? 
 Three men devilish gentlemanly fellows have been asking after you 
 down stairs, and knocking at every door on the Hall flight ; for which 
 they've been most infernally blown up by the collegians that had the 
 trouble of opening 'em." 
 
 "Dear me! how very foolish of them," said Mr. Pickwick, rising. 
 " Yes, I have no doubt they are some friends whom I rather expected 
 to see yesterday." 
 
 "Friends of yours!" exclaimed Smangle, seizing Mr. Pickwick by 
 the hand. " Say no more. Curse me, they're friends of mine from 
 this minute, and friends of Mivins's too. Infernal pleasant gentle- 
 manly dog, Mivins, isn't he?" said Smangle, with great feeling. 
 
 "I know so little of the gentleman,' 1 said Mr. Pickwick, hesitating, 
 "that I " 
 
 " I know you do," interposed Smangle, clasping Mr. Pickwick by 
 the shoulder. " You shall know him better. You'll be delighted with 
 him. That man, Sir," said Smangle, with a solemn countenance, " has 
 comic powers that \vould do honour to Drury Lane Theatre." 
 
 "Has he indeed?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Ah, by Jove he has!" replied Smangle. "Hear him come the 
 four cats in the wheelbarrow four distinct cats, Sir, I pledge you my 
 honour. Now you know that's infernal clever ; dam'me, you can't help 
 liking a man, when you see these sort of traits about him. He's only 
 one fault that little failing I mentioned to you, you know." 
 
 As Mr. Smangle shook his head in a confidential and sympathis- 
 ing manner at this juncture, Mr. Pickwick felt that he was expected 
 to say something, so he said " Ah ! " and looked restlessly at the 
 door. 
 
 "Ah!" echoed Mr. Smangle, with a long-drawn sigh. "He's 
 delightful company, that m;m is, Sir I don't know better company 
 anywhere; but he" has that one drawback. If the ghost of his grand-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 473 
 
 father, Sir, was to rise before him this minute, he'd ask him for the 
 loan of his acceptance on an eighteenpenny stamp." 
 
 "Dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes," added Mr. Smangle ; " and if he'd the power of raising him 
 again, he would, in two months and three days from this time, to renew 
 the bill!" 
 
 " These are very remarkable traits," said Mr. Pickwick ; " but 
 I'm afraid that while we are talking here, my friends may be in a state 
 of great perplexity at not finding me." 
 
 " I'll show 'em the way," said Smangle, making for the door. " Good 
 day, I won't disturb you while they're here, you know. By-the- 
 bye " 
 
 As Smangle pronounced the last three words, he stopped suddenly, 
 reclosed the door which he had opened, and, walking softly back to 
 Mr. Pickwick, stepped close up to him on tiptoe, and said in a very 
 soft whisper 
 
 " You couldn't make it convenient to lend me half-a-crown till the 
 latter end of next week, could you ? " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick could scarcely forbear smiling, but managing to pre- 
 serve his gravity, he drew forth the coin, and placed it in Mr. Smangle's 
 palm; upon which that gentleman, with many nods and winks, imply- 
 ing profound mystery, disappeared in quest of the three strangers, with 
 whom he presently returned ; and having coughed thrice, and nodded 
 as many times, as an assurance to Mr. Pickwick that he should not 
 forget to pay, he shook hands all round in an engaging manner, and at 
 length took himself off. 
 
 "My dear friends," said Mr. Pickwick, shaking hands alternately 
 with Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass, who were the 
 three visiters in question, "I am delighted to see you." 
 
 The triumvirate were much affected. Mr. Tupman shook his head 
 deploringly ; Mr. Saodgrass drew forth his handkerchief with undis- 
 guised emotion ; and Mr. Winkle retired to the window, and sniffed 
 aloud. 
 
 " Mornin', gen'l'm'n," said Sam, entering at the moment with the 
 shoes and gaiters ; " avay vith melincholly, as the little boy said ven his 
 schoolmissis died. Velcome to the college, gen'l'm'n." 
 
 " This foolish fellow," said Mr. Pickwick, tapping Sam on the head 
 as he knelt down to button up his master's gaiters " This foolish, 
 fellow has got himself arrested, in order to be near me." 
 
 "What !" exclaimed the three friends. 
 
 " Yes, gen'l'm'n," said Sam, " I'm a stand steady, Sir, if you please 
 I'm a pris'ner, gen'l'm'n; con-fined, as the lady said." 
 
 "A prisoner !" exclaimed Mr. Winkle, with unaccountable vehe- 
 mence. 
 
 " Hallo, Sir ! " responded Sam, looking up. " Wot's the matter, 
 Sir?" 
 
 " I had hoped, Sam, that nothing, nothing," said Mr. Winkle, 
 
 precipitately. 
 
 There was something so very abrupt and unsettled in Mr. Winkle's
 
 474 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 manner, that Mr. Pickwick involuntarily looked at his two friends for 
 explanation. 
 
 " We don't know/' said Mr. Tupman, answering this mute appeal 
 aloud. " He has been much excited for two days past, and his 
 whole demeanour very unlike what it usually is. We feared there 
 must be something the matter, but he resolutely denies it." 
 
 " No, no/' said Mr. Winkle, colouring beneath Mr. Pickwick's gaze; 
 " there is really nothing. I assure you there is nothing, my dear Sir. 
 It will be necessary for me to leave town for a short time on private 
 business, and I had hoped to have prevailed upon you to allow Sam to 
 accompany me." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick looked more astonished than before. 
 
 "I think/' faultered Mr. Winkle, "that Sam would have had no 
 objection to do so ; but of course his being a prisoner here, renders it 
 impossible. So I must go alone." 
 
 As Mr. Winkle said these words, Mr. Pickwick felt, with some asto- 
 nishment, that Sam's fingers were trembling at the gaiters, as if he 
 were rather surprised or startled. He looked up at Mr. Winkle, too, 
 when he had finished speaking, and though the glance they exchanged 
 was instantaneous, they seemed to understand each other. 
 
 " Do you know anything of this, Sam ? " said Mr. Pickwick 
 sharply. 
 
 "No, I don't, Sir," replied Mr. Weller, beginning to button with 
 extraordinary assiduity. 
 
 " Are you sure, Sam ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Vy, Sir," responded Mr. Weller ; " I'm sure so far, that I've never 
 heerd anythin' on the subject afore this moment. If I makes any 
 guess about it," added Sam, looking at Mr. Winkle, " I haven't got 
 any right to say wot it is, 'fear it should be a wrong 'un." 
 
 "I have no right to make any further enquiry into the private 
 affairs of a friend, however intimate a one," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 after a short silence; "at present let me merely say, that I do not 
 understand this at all. There we have had quite enough of the 
 subject." 
 
 Thus expressing himself, Mr. Pickwick led the conversation to dif- 
 ferent topics, and Mr. Winkle gradually appeared more at ease, though 
 still very far from being completely so." They had all so much to con- 
 verse about, that the morning very quickly passed away ; and when at 
 three o'clock Mr. Weller produced upon the little dining table, a roast 
 leg of mutton and an enormous meat pie, with sundry dishes of vege- 
 tables, and pots of porter, which stood upon the chairs or the sofa- 
 bedstead, or where they could, every body felt disposed to do justice 
 to the meal, notwithstanding that the meat had been purchased and 
 dressed, and the pie made and baked at the prison cookery hard by. 
 
 To these succeeded a bottle or two of very good wine, for which a 
 messenger was dispatched by Mr. Pickwick to the Horn Coffeehouse, 
 in Doctors' Commons. The bottle or two, indeed, might be more 
 properly described as a bottle or six, for by the time it was drunk and 
 tea over, the bell began to ring for strangers to withdraw.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 475 
 
 But if Mr. Winkle's behaviour had been unaccountable in the morn- 
 ing, it became perfectly unearthly and solemn when, under the influ- 
 ence of his feelings and his share of the bottle or six, he prepared to 
 take leave of his friend. He lingered behind, until Mr. Tupman and 
 Mr. Snodgrass had disappeared, and then fervently clenched Mr. 
 Pickwick's hand with an expression of face, in which deep and mighty 
 resolve was fearfully blended with the very concentrated essence of 
 gloom. 
 
 " Good night, my dear Sir," said Mr. Winkle between his set 
 teeth. 
 
 " Bless you, my dear fellow," replied the warm-hearted Mr. Pick- 
 wick, as he returned the pressure of his young friend's hand. 
 
 " Now then/' cried Mr. Tupman from the gallery. 
 
 " Yes, yes, directly," replied Mr. Winkle. " Good night." 
 
 " Good night," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 There was another good night, and another, and half a dozen more 
 after that, and still Mr. Winkle had fast hold of his friend's hand, and 
 was looking into his face with the same strange expression. 
 
 " Is anything the matter ? " said Mr. Pickwick at last, when his 
 arm was quite sore with shaking. 
 
 " Nothing," said Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Well then, good night," said Mr. Pickwick, attempting to dis- 
 engage his hand. 
 
 " My friend, my benefactor, my honoured companion," murmured Mr. 
 Winkle, catching" at his wrist. " " Do not judge me harshly ; do not, 
 when you hear that driven to extremity by hopeless obstacles, I " 
 
 " Now then," said Mr. Tupman, re-appearing at the door. " Are 
 you coming, or are we to be locked in ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I am ready," replied Mr. Winkle. And with a violent 
 effort he tore himself away. 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick was gazing down the passage after them in silent 
 astonishment, Sam Weller appeared at the stair-head, and whispered 
 for one moment in Mr. Winkle's ear. 
 
 " Oh certainly, depend upon me," said that gentleman aloud. 
 
 " Thankee, Sir. You von't forget, Sir ? " said Sam. 
 
 " Of course not," replied Mr. Winkle. 
 
 " Vish you luck, Sir," said Sam, touching his hat. " I should 
 very much like to ha' joined you, Sir; but the gov'ner o' course is pair- 
 amount." 
 
 " It is very much to your credit that you remain here," said Mr. 
 Winkle. With these words they disappeared down the stairs. 
 
 " Very extraordinary," said" Mr. Pickwick, going back into his 
 room, and seating himself at the table in a musing attitude. " What 
 can that young man be going to do ! " 
 
 He had sat ruminating about the matter for some time, when the 
 voice of Roker, the turnkey, demanded whether he might come in. 
 
 " By all means," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I've brought you a softer pillow, Sir," said Roker, " instead of the 
 temporary one you had last night."
 
 476 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Thank you," said Mr. Pickwick. " Will you take a glass of 
 wine ? " 
 
 " You're wery good, Sir," replied Mr. Roker, accepting the proffered 
 glass. " Yours, Sir." 
 
 " Thank you," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I'm sorry to say that your landlord's wery bad to-night, Sir,'' said 
 Roker, setting down the glass, and inspecting the lining of his hat pre- 
 paratory to putting it on again. 
 
 " What ! The Chancery prisoner ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " He won't be a Chancery prisoner wery long Sir," replied Roker, 
 turning his hat round so as to get the maker's name right side upwards 
 as he looked into it. 
 
 " You make my blood run cold," said Mr. Pickwick. '' What do 
 you mean ? " 
 
 " He's been consumptive for a long time past," said Mr. Roker, 
 " and he's taken wery bad in the breath to-night. The doctor said six 
 months ago that nothing but change of air could save him." 
 
 " Great Heaven!" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick; " has this man been 
 slowly murdered by the law for six months ! " 
 
 " I don't know about that, Sir," replied Roker, weighing the hat by 
 the brims in both hands. " I suppose he'd have been took the same 
 wherever he was. He went into the infirmary this morning; the 
 doctor says his strength is to be kept up as much as possible, and the 
 warden's sent him wine and broth and that, from his own house. It's 
 not the warden's fault, you know, Sir." 
 
 " Of course not," replied Mr. Pickwick hastily. 
 
 " I'm afraid however," said Roker shaking his head, '' that it's all 
 up with him ; I offered Neddy two sixpenn'orths to one upon it just 
 now, but he wouldn't take it, and quite right. Thankee, Sir. Good 
 night, Sir." 
 
 " Stay," said Mr. Pickwick earnestly- " Where is this infirmary ? " 
 
 " Just over where you slept, Sir," replied Roker. " I'll show you 
 if you like to come." Mr. Pickwick snatched up his hat without 
 speaking, and followed at once. 
 
 The turnkey led the way in silence, and gently raising the latch of 
 the room-door, motioned Mr. Pickwick to enter. It was a large, bare, 
 desolate room, with a number of stump bedsteads made of iron, on 
 one of which lay stretched the shadow of a man : wan, pale, and ghastly. 
 His breathing was hard and thick, and he moaned painfully as it came 
 and went. At the bedside sat a short old man in a cobbler's apron, who 
 by the aid of a pair of horn spectacles, was reading from the bible aloud. 
 It was the fortunate legatee. 
 
 The sick man laid his hand upon his attendant's arm, and motioned 
 him to stop. He closed the book, and laid it on the bed. 
 
 " Open the window," said the sick man. 
 
 He did so. The noise of carriages and carts, the rattle of wheels, 
 the cries of men and boys ; all the busy sounds of a mighty multitude 
 instinct with life and occupation, blended into one deep murmur, floated 
 into the room. Above the hoarse loud hum arose from time to time a
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 477 
 
 boisterous laugh ; or a scrap of some jingling song, shouted forth by one 
 of the giddy crowd, would strike upon the ear for an instant, and then 
 be lost amidst the roar of voices and the tramp of footsteps the break- 
 ing of the billows of the restless sea of life that rolled heavily on, 
 without. These are melancholy sounds to a quiet listener at any time ; 
 but how melancholy to the watcher by the bed of death ! 
 
 " There is no air here," said the sick man faintly. " The place 
 pollutes it ; it was fresh round about, when I walked there, years 
 ago; but it grows hot and heavy in passing these walls. I cannot 
 breathe it." 
 
 " We have breathed it together a long time," said the old man. 
 " Come, come." 
 
 There was a short silence, during which the two spectators approached 
 the bed. The sick man drew a hand of his old fellow prisoner towards 
 him, and pressing it affectionately between both his own, retained it in 
 his grasp. 
 
 " I hope," he gasped after a while so faintly that they bent their 
 ears close over the bed to catch the half-formed sounds his cold blue 
 lips gave vent to " I hope my merciful Judge will bear in mind my 
 heavy punishment on earth. Twenty years, my friend, twenty years 
 in this hideous grave. My heart broke when my child died, and 
 I could not even kiss him in his little coffin. My loneliness since then, in 
 all this noise and riot, has been very dreadful. May God forgive me ! 
 He has seen my solitary, lingering death." 
 
 He folded his hands, and murmuring something more they could 
 not hear, fell into a sleep only a sleep at first, for they saw him 
 smile. 
 
 They whispered together for a little time, and the turnkey stooping 
 over the pillow, drew hastily back. " He has got his discharge, by 
 G !" said the man. 
 
 He had. But he had grown so like death in life, that they knew not 
 when he died.
 
 478 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE OF AN AFFECTING INTERVIEW BETWEEN MR. SAMUEL 
 WELLER AND A FAMILY PARTY. MR. PICKWICK MAKES A TOUR 
 OF THE DIMINUTIVE WORLD HE INHABITS, AND RESOLVES TO 
 MIX WITH IT IN FUTURE AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE. 
 
 A FEW mornings after his incarceration, Mr. Samuel Weller, having 
 arranged his master's room with all possible care, and seen him comforU 
 ably seated over his books and papers, withdrew to employ himself for 
 an hour or two to come, as he best could. It was a fine inorning, and 
 it occurred to Sam that a pint of porter in the open air would lighten 
 his next quarter of an hour or so, as well as any little amusement in 
 which he could indulge. 
 
 Having arrived at this conclusion, he betook himself to the tap, and 
 having purchased the beer, and obtained moreover, the day-but-one- 
 before-yesterday\s paper, he repaired to the skittle ground, and seating 
 himself on a bench, proceeded to enjoy himself in a very sedate and 
 methodical manner. 
 
 First of all, he took a refreshing draught of the beer, and then he 
 looked up at a window, and bestowed a Platonic wink on a young lady 
 who was peeling potatoes thereat. Then he opened the paper, and 
 folded it so as to get the police reports outward ; and this being a 
 vexatious and difficult thing to do when there is any wind stirring, he 
 took another draught of the beer when he had accomplished it. Then 
 he read two lines of the paper, and stopped short to look at a couple of 
 men who were finishing a game at rackets, which, being concluded, he 
 cried out " wery good" in an approving manner, and looked round upon 
 the spectators, to ascertain whether their sentiments coincided with his 
 own. This involved the necessity of looking up at the windows also ; 
 and as the young lady was still there, it was an act of common polite- 
 ness to wink again, and to drink to her good health in dumb show, in 
 another draught of the beer, which Sam did; and having frowned 
 hideously upon a small boy who had noted this latter proceeding with 
 open eyes, he threw one leg over the other, and, holding the newspaper 
 in both hands, began to read in real earnest. 
 
 He had hardly composed himself into the needful state of abstrac- 
 tion, when he thought he heard his own name proclaimed in some 
 distant passage. Nor was he mistaken, for it quickly passed from 
 mouth to mouth, and in a few seconds the air teemed with shouts of 
 " Weller." 
 
 " Here !" roared Sam, in a stentorian voice. " Wot's the matter ? 
 Who wants him ? Has an express come to say that his country-house 
 is afire?" 
 
 " Somebody wants you in the hall," said a man who was standing by,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 479 
 
 " Just mind that 'ere paper and the pot, old feller, will you ? " said 
 Sam. "I'm a comin'. Blessed, if they wos a callin' me to the bar, 
 they couldn't make more noise about it." 
 
 Accompanying these words with a gentle rap on the head of the 
 young gentleman before noticed, who, unconscious of his close vicinity 
 to the person in request, was screaming " Weller" with all his might, 
 Sam hastened across the ground, and ran up the steps into the hall. 
 Here, the first object that met his eyes was his beloved father sitting on 
 a bottom stair, with his hat in his hand, shouting out "Weller" in his 
 very loudest tone, at half-minute intervals. 
 
 " Wot are you a roarin' at?" said Sam impetuously, when the old 
 gentleman had discharged himself of another shout ; " makin' yourself 
 so precious hot that you looks like a aggrawated glass-blower. Wot's 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " Aha !" replied the old gentleman, " I begun to be afeerd that you'd 
 gone for a walk round the Regency Park, Sammy." 
 
 " Come," said Sam, " none o' them taunts agin the wictim o' avarice, 
 and come off that 'ere step. Wot are you a settin' down there for ? I 
 don't live there." 
 
 " I've got sitch a game for you, Sammy," said the elder Mr. Weller, rising. 
 
 " Stop a minit," said Sam, "you're all vite behind." 
 
 " That's right, Sammy, rub it off," said Mr. Weller, as his son dusted 
 him. " It might look personal here, if vun valked about vith any vite- 
 vash on vun's clothes, eh, Sammy?" 
 
 As Mr. Weller exhibited in this place unequivocal symptoms of an 
 approaching fit of chuckling, Sam interposed to stop it. 
 
 " Keep quiet, do," said S;im, "there never vos such a old picter-card 
 born. Vot are you bustin'vith, now?" 
 
 " Sammy," said Mr. Weller, wiping his forehead, "I'm afeerd that 
 vun o' these days I shall laugh myself into a appleplexy, my boy." 
 
 " Veil, then, wot do you do it for?" said Sam. "Now, then, wot 
 have you got to say ? " 
 
 "Who do you think 's come here vith me, Samivel?" said Mr. 
 Weller, drawing back a pace or two, pursing up his mouth, and ex- 
 tending his eye-brows. 
 
 " Pell?" said Sam. 
 
 Mr. Weller shook his head, and his red cheeks expanded with the 
 laughter that was endeavouring to find a vent. 
 
 "Mottled-faced man, pYaps?" suggested Sam. 
 
 Again Mr. Weller shook his head. 
 
 " Who then ?" asked Sam. 
 
 "Your mother-in-law," said Mr. Weller; and it was lucky he did 
 say it, or his cheeks must inevitably have cracked from their most un- 
 natural distension. 
 
 " Your mother-in-law, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, " and the red- 
 nosed man, my boy ; and the red-nosed man. Ho ! ho! ho!" 
 
 With this, Mr. Weller launched into convulsions of laughter, while 
 Sam regarded him with a broad grin gradually overspreading his whole 
 countenance. 
 
 " They've come to have a little serous talk vith you, Samivel," said
 
 480 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Weller. wiping his eyes. " Don't let out nothiu' about tlie 
 unnat'ral creditor, Sammy." 
 
 '' Wot, don't they know who it is?" inquired Sam. 
 
 " Not a bit on it," replied his father. 
 
 " Vere are they ? " said Sam, reciprocating all the old gentleman's grins. 
 
 'In the snuggery," rejoined Mr. Weller. "Catch the red-nosed 
 man a gin" any vere but vere the liquors is ; not he, Samivel not he. 
 Ve'd a wery pleasant ride along the road from the Markis this 
 mornin', Sammy," said Mr. Weller, when he felt himself equal to the 
 task of speaking in an articulate manner. " I drove the old piebald in 
 that 'ere little shay-cart as belonged to your mother-in-law's first wen- 
 ter, into vich a harm-cheer vos lifted for the Shepherd; and I'm blest," 
 said Mr. Weller, with a look of deep scorn " I'm blest if they didn't 
 bring a portable flight o' steps out into the road a front o' our door, 
 for him to get up by."' 
 
 " You don't mean that ? " said Sam. 
 
 " I do mean that, Sammy," replied his father, "and I vish you could 
 ha' seen how tight he held on by the sides ven he did get up, as if he 
 wos afeerd o' being precipitayted down full six foot, and dashed into a 
 million hatoms. He tumbled in at last, however, and avay ve vent ; 
 and I rayther think I say I rayther think, Samivel that he found 
 his-self a little jolted ven ve turned the corners." 
 
 " Wot, I s pose you happened to drive up agin a post or two ? " said 
 Sam. 
 
 " I'm afeerd," replied Mr. W T eller, in a rapture of winks " I'm afeerd 
 I took vun or two on 'em, Sammy ', he wos a flyin' out o' the harm-cheer 
 all the vay." 
 
 Here the old gentleman shook his head from side to side, and was 
 seized with a hoarse internal rumbling, accompanied with a violent 
 swelling of the countenance, and a sudden increase in the breadth of all 
 his features symptoms which alarmed his son not a little. 
 
 "Don't be frightened, Sammy don't be frightened," said. the old 
 gentleman, when, by dint of much struggling, and various convulsive 
 stamps upon the ground he had recovered his voice. " It's only a kind 
 o' quiet laugh as I'm a tryin" to come, Sammy." 
 
 " Veil, if that's wot it "is," said Sam, " you'd better not try to come 
 it agin. You'll find it rayther a dangerous invention." 
 
 " Don't you like it, Sammy ? " enquired the old gentleman. 
 
 " Not at all," replied Sam. 
 
 " Veil," said Mr. Weller, with the tears still running down his 
 cheeks, " it 'ud ha' been a wery great accommodation to me if I could 
 ha' done it, and 'ud ha' saved a good many vords atween your mother-in- 
 law and me, sometimes ; but I'm afeerd you're right, Sammy : it's too 
 much in the appleplexy line a deal too much, Samivel." 
 
 This conversation brought them to the door of the snuggery, into 
 which Sam pausing for an instant to look over his shoulder, and cast 
 a sly leer at his respected progenitor, who was still giggling behind 
 at once led the way. 
 
 " Mother-in-law," said Sam, politely saluting the lady, " wery much 
 obliged to you for this here wisit. Shepherd, how air you ? "
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 481 
 
 "Oh, Samuel!" said Mrs. Weller. " This is dreadful." 
 
 " Not a bit on it, mum," replied Sam. " Is it, Shepherd?" 
 
 Mr. Stiggins raised his hands, and turned up his eyes, till the 
 whites or rather the yellows were alone visible, but made no reply 
 iii words. 
 
 " Is this here gen'lm'n troubled vith any painful complaint?" said 
 Sam, looking to his mother-in-law for explanation. 
 
 " The good man is grieved to see you here, Samuel," replied Mrs. 
 Weller. 
 
 "Oh, that's it, is it?'' said Sam. " I wos afeerd, from his manner, 
 that he might ha' forgotten to take pepper vith that 'ere last cowcum- 
 ber he eat. Set down, Sir ; ve make no extra charge for the settin' 
 down, as the king remarked ven he blovv'd up his ministers." 
 
 "Young man," said Mr. Stiggins, ostentatiously, "I fear you are 
 not softened by imprisonment." 
 
 "Beg your pardon, Sir," replied Sam, "wot wos you graciously 
 please to hobserve ? " 
 
 "I apprehend, young man, that your nature is no softer for this 
 chastening," said Mr. Stiggins, in a loud voice. 
 
 "Sir," replied Sam, "you're wery kind to say so. I hope my 
 natur is not a soft vun, Sir. Wery much obliged to you for your good 
 opinion, Sir.'' 
 
 At this point of the conversation, a sound, indecorously approaching 
 to a laugh, was heard to proceed from the chair in which the elder Mr. 
 Weller was seated, upon which Mrs. Weller, on a hasty consideration 
 of all the circumstances of the case, considered it her bounden duty to 
 become gradually hysterical. 
 
 " Weller," said Mrs. W. (the old gentleman was seated in a corner); 
 " Weller ! come forth." 
 
 " Wery much obleeged to you, my dear," replied Mr. Weller ; " but 
 I'm quite comfortable vere I am." 
 
 Upon this, Mrs. Weller burst into tears. 
 
 " Wot's gone wrong, mum?" said Sum. 
 
 "Oh, Samuel!" replied Mrs. Weller; "your father makes me 
 wretched. Will nothing do him good ? " 
 
 " Do you hear this here? " said Sam. " Lady vants to know vether 
 nothin' 'ull do you good." 
 
 "Wery much indebted to Mrs. Weller for her po-lite enquiries, 
 Sammy,'' replied the old gentleman. " I think a pipe vould benefit 
 me a good deal. Could I be accommodated, Sammy ?" 
 
 Here Mrs. Weller let fall some more tears, and Mr. Stiggins 
 groaned. 
 
 " Hallo ! here's this unfort'nate gen'lm'n took ill agin," said Sam, 
 looking round. " Vere do you feel it now, Sir ? " 
 
 "In the same place, young man,-" rejoined Mr. Stiggins: " in the 
 same place." 
 
 "Vere may that be, Sir?" enquired Sam, with great outward sim 
 plicity. 
 
 " In the buzzim, young man," replied Mr. Stiggins, placing his 
 umbrella on his waistcoat.
 
 482 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 At this affecting reply, Mrs. Weller being wholly unable to stippress 
 her feelings, sobbed aloud, and stated her conviction that the red-nosed 
 man was a saint ; whereupon Mr. Weller, senior, ventured to suggest, 
 in an undertone, that he must be the representative of the united 
 parishes of Saint Simon Without and Saint Walker Within. 
 
 " I'm afeerd, mum," said Sam, " that this here gen'lm'n, vith the 
 tvist in his countenance, feels rayther thirsty, vith the melancholy 
 spectacle afore him. Is it the case, mum?" 
 
 The worthy lady looked at Mr. Stiggins for a reply, and that gen- 
 tleman, with many rollings of the eye, clenched his throat with his right 
 Land, and mimicked the act of swallowing, to intimate that he was a- 
 thirst. 
 
 " I am afraid, Samuel, that his feelings have made him so, indeed," 
 said Mrs. Weller, mournfully. 
 
 " Wot's your usual tap, Sir?" replied Sam. 
 
 "Oh, my dear young friend!" replied Mr. Stiggins, "all taps is 
 vanities." 
 
 "Too true; too true, indeed," said Mrs. Weller, murmuring a 
 groan and shaking her head assentingly. 
 
 "Veil," said Sam, "I des-say they may be, Sir; but vich is your 
 partickler wanity. Vich wanity do you like the flavour on best, 
 Sir?" 
 
 "Oh, my dear young friend," replied Mr. Stiggins, "I despise 
 them all. If," said Mr. Stiggins, "if there is any one of them less 
 odious than another, it is the liquor called rum warm, my dear young 
 friend, with three lumps of sugar to the tumbler." 
 
 " Werry sorry to say, Sir," said Sam, "that they don't allow that 
 partickler wanity to be sold in this here establishment." 
 
 "Oh, the hardness of heart of these inveterate men!" ejaculated 
 Mr. Stiggins. " Oh, the accursed cruelty of these inhuman perse- 
 cutors ! " 
 
 With these words, Mr. Stiggins again cast up his eyes, anjd rapped 
 his breast with his umbrella ; and it is but justice to the reverend gen- 
 tleman to say, that his indignation appeared very real and unfeigned 
 indeed. 
 
 After Mrs. Weller and the red-nosed gentleman had commented on 
 this inhuman usage in a very forcible manner, and vented a variety of 
 pious and holy execrations against its authors, the latter recommended 
 a bottle of port wine, warmed with a b'ttle water, spice, and sugar, as 
 being grateful to the stomach, and savouring less of vanity than many 
 other compounds. It was accordingly ordered to be prepared, and 
 pending its preparation the red-nosed man and Mrs. Weller looked at 
 the elder W. and groaned. 
 
 " Veil, Sammy," said that gentleman, "I hope you'll find your spirits 
 rose by this here" lively wisit. Wery cheerful and improvin' conwersa- 
 tion, ain't it, Sammy?" 
 
 " You're a reprobate," replied Sam ; " and I desire you von't address 
 no more o' them ungraceful remarks to me." 
 
 So far from being edified by this very proper reply, the elder Mr.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 483 
 
 Weller at once relapsed into a broad grin : and this inexorable conduct 
 causing the lady and Mr. Stiggins to close their eyes and rock them- 
 selves to and fro on their chairs, in a troubled manner, he furthermore 
 indulged in several acts of pantomime indicative of a desire to pum- 
 mel and wring the nose of the aforesaid Stiggins, the performance of 
 which appeared to afford him great mental relief. The old gentleman 
 very narrowly escaped detection in one instance; for Mr. Stiggins hap- 
 pening to give a start on the arrival of the negus, brought his head in 
 smart contact with the clenched fist with which Mr. Weller had been 
 describing imaginary fireworks in the air, within two inches of his ear 
 for some minutes previous. 
 
 " Wot are you a reachin' out your hand for the tumbler in that 'ere 
 sawage vay for ? " said Sam, with great promptitude. " Don't you see 
 you've hit the gen'lm'n ? " 
 
 " I didn't go to do it, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, in some degree 
 abashed by the very unexpected occurrence of the incident. 
 
 " Try an invard application, Sir," said Sam, as the red-nosed gen- 
 tleman rubbed his head with a rueful visage. " Wot do you think o' 
 that for a go o' wanity varm, Sir?" 
 
 Mr. Stiggins made no verbal answer, but his manner was expressive. 
 He tasted the contents of the glass which Sam had placed in his 
 hand, put his umbrella on the floor, and tasted it again, passing 
 his hand placidly across his stomach twice or thrice ; he then drank the 
 whole at a breath, and smacking his lips, held out the tumbler for 
 more. 
 
 Nor was Mrs. Weller behind-hand in doing justice to the composition. 
 The good lady began by protesting that she couldn't touch a drop 
 then took a small drop then a large drop and then a great many 
 drops ; and her feelings being of the nature of those substances which 
 are powerfully affected by the application of strong waters, she dropped 
 a tear with every drop of negus, and so got on melting the feelings down, 
 until at length she had arrived at a very pathetic and decent pitch of 
 misery. 
 
 The elder Mr. Weller observed these signs and tokens with many 
 manifestations of disgust, and when, after a second jug of the same, 
 Mr. Stiggins began to sigh in a dismal mariner, he plainly evinced 
 his disapprobation of the whole proceedings by sundry incoherent ram- 
 blings of speech, among which frequent angry repetitions of the word 
 "gammon" were alone distinguishable to the ear. 
 
 " I'll tell you wot it is, Samivel, my boy," whispered the old gentle- 
 man into his son's ear, after a long and stedfast contemplation of his 
 lady and Mr. Stiggins ; " I think there must be somethin' wrong in 
 your mother-in-law's inside, as veil as in that o' the red-nosed 
 man. 5 ' 
 
 " Wot do you mean ? " said Sam. 
 
 " I mean this here, Sammy," replied the old gentleman, " that wot 
 they drink don't seem no nourishment to 'em ; it all turns to varm 
 vater at vunce, and comes a' pourin' out o' their eyes. 'Pend upon it. 
 Sammy, it's a constitootional infirmity."
 
 484 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Weller delivered this scientific opinion with many confirmatory 
 frowns and nods, which Mrs. Weller remarking, and concluding that 
 they bore some disparaging reference either to herself or to Mr. Stig- 
 gins, or to both, was on the point of becoming infinitely worse, when 
 Mr. Stiggins, getting on his legs as well as he could, proceeded to 
 deliver an edifying discourse for the benefit of the company, but more 
 especially of Mr. Samuel, whom he adjured, in moving terms, to be 
 upon his guard in that sink of iniquity into which he was cast ; to 
 abstain from all hypocrisy and pride of heart ; and to take in all things 
 exact pattern and copy by him (Stiggins), in which case he might 
 calculate on arriving sooner or later at the comfortable conclusion, 
 that, like him, he was a most estimable and blameless character, 
 and that all his acquaintance and friends were hopelessly abandoned 
 and profligate wretches ; which consideration, he said, could not but 
 afford him the liveliest satisfaction. 
 
 He furthermore conjured him to avoid, above all things, the 
 vice of intoxication, which he likened unto the filthy habits of 
 swine, and to those poisonous and baleful drugs which being chewed 
 in the mouth are said to filch away the memory. At this point 
 of his discourse the reverend and red-nosed gentleman became singu- 
 larly incoherent, and staggering to and fro in the excitement of 
 his eloquence, was fain to catch at the back of a chair to preserve his 
 perpendicular. 
 
 Mr. Stiggins did not desire his hearers to be upon their guard against 
 those false prophets and wretched mockers of religion, who, without 
 sense to expound its first doctrines, or hearts to feel its first principles, 
 are more dangerous members of society than the common criminal ; 
 imposing as they necessarily do upon the weakest and worst informed 
 natures, casting scorn and contempt on what should be held most sacred, 
 and bringing into partial disrepute large bodies of virtuous and well- 
 conducted persons of many excellent sects and persuasions ; but as he 
 leant over the back of the chair for a considerable time, and closing 
 one eye, winked a good deal with the other, it is presumed that he 
 thought it all, but kept it to himself. 
 
 During the delivery of this oration, Mrs. Weller sobbed and wvept at 
 the end of the paragraphs, while Sam, sitting cross-legged on a chair and 
 resting his arms on the top-rail, regarded the speaker with great suavity 
 and blandness of demeanour, occasionally bestowing a look of recogni- 
 tion on the old gentleman, who was delighted at the beginning, and went 
 to sleep about half-way. 
 
 " Brayvo! wery pretty!" said Sam, when the red-nosed man having 
 finished, pulled his worn gloves on, thereby thrusting his fingers 
 through the broken tops till the knuckles were disclosed to view 
 "Wery pretty." 
 
 " I hope it may do you good, Samuel," said Mrs. Weller solemnly. 
 
 " I think it viil, mum," replied Sam. 
 
 " 1 wish I could hope that it would do your father good," said Mrs. 
 
 " Thankee, my dear," said Mr. Weller, senior. " How do you find 
 yourself arter it, my love? "
 
 THE. PICKWICK CLUB. 485 
 
 " Scoffer!" exclaimed Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " Benighted man !" said the reverend Mr. Stiggins. 
 
 " If I don't get no better light than that 'ere moonshine o* your'n, 
 my vorthy creetur," said the elder Mr. Weller, " it's wery likely as 
 I shall continey to be a night coach till I'm took off the road alto- 
 gether. Now, Mrs. We, if the piebald stands at livery much 
 longer, he'll stand at nothin' as ve go back, and p'raps that 'ere 
 harm cheer ull be tipped over into some hedge or another, vith the 
 shepherd in it." 
 
 At this supposition the reverend Mr. Stiggins, in evident conster- 
 nation, gathered up his hat and umbrella, and proposed an immediate 
 departure, to which Mrs. Weller assented. Sam walked with them to 
 the lodge-gate, and took a dutiful leave. 
 
 " A-do, Samivel," said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Wot's a-do ? " enquired Sam. 
 
 " Veil, good bye, then," said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Oh, that's wot you're a' aimin' at, is it?" said Sam. u Good bye, 
 old double-vicket." 
 
 "Sammy," whispered Mr. Weller, looking cautiously round ; "my 
 duty to your gov'ner, and tell him if he thinks better o' this here bis'- 
 ness, to com-moonicate vith me. Me and a cab'net-maker has dewised 
 .a plan for eettin' him out. A pianner, Samivel a pianner !" said Mr. 
 Weller, striking his son on the chest with the back of his hand, and 
 falling back a step or two. 
 
 " Wot do you mean ? " said Sam. 
 
 " A pianner forty, Samivel," rejoined Mr. Weller, in a still more 
 mysterious manner, " as he can have on hire; vim as von't play, 
 Sammy." 
 
 "And wot 'ud be the good o' that?" said Sam. 
 
 " Let him send to my friend, the cab'net-maker, to fetch it back, 
 Sammy," replied Mr. Weller. " Are you avake, now ? " 
 
 " No," rejoined Sam. 
 
 " There ain't no vurks in it," whispered his father. " It 'ull hold 
 hold him easy, vith his hat and shoes on ; and breathe through the legs, 
 vich his holler. Have a passage ready taken for 'Merriker. The 
 'Merrikin' gov'ment vill never give him up, ven vunce they finds as he's 
 got money to spend, Sammy. Let the gov'ner stop there till Mrs. 
 Bardell's dead, or Mr. Dodson and Fogg's hung, vich last ewent I think 
 is the most likely to happen first, Sammy ; and then let him come back 
 and write a book about the 'Merrikins as'll pay all his expenses and more, 
 if he blows 'em up enough." 
 
 Mr. Weller delivered this hurried abstract of his plot with great 
 vehemence of whisper, and then, as if fearful of weakening the effect 
 of the tremendous communication by any further dialogue, gave 
 the coachman's salute, and vanished. 
 
 Sam had scarcely recovered his usual composure of countenance, 
 which had been greatly disturbed by the secret communication of his 
 respected relative, when Mr. Pickwick accosted him. 
 
 " Sam," said that gentleman. 
 
 Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 MM2
 
 486 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I am going for a walk round the prison, and I wish you to attend 
 me. I see a prisoner we know coming this way, Sam," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick, smiling. 
 
 " Vich, Sir ? " inquired Mr. Weller ; " the genTm'n vith the head o' 
 hair, or the interestin' captive in the stockin's f " 
 
 " Neither," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. " He is an older friend of yours, 
 Sam." 
 
 " O' mine, Sir?" exclaimed Mr. Weller. 
 
 " You recollect the gentleman very well, I dare say, Sam," replied 
 Mr. Pickwick, " or else you are more unmindful of your old acquaint- 
 ances than I think you are. Hush ! not a word, Sam not a syllable. 
 Here he is." 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick spoke, Jingle walked up. He looked less miserable 
 than before, being clad in a half-worn suit of clothes, which, with Mr. 
 Pickwick's assistance, had been released from the pawnbroker's. He 
 wore clean linen too, and had had his hair cut. He was very pale 
 and thin, however ; and as he crept slowly up, leaning on a stick, it 
 was easy to see that he had suffered severely from illness and want, 
 and was still very weak. He took off his hat as Mr. Pickwick 
 saluted him, and seemed much humbled and abashed at sight of Sam 
 Weller. 
 
 Following close at his heels, came Mr. Job Trotter, in the catalogue 
 of whose vices, want of faith and attachment to his companion could, 
 at all events, find no place. He was still ragged and squalid, but his 
 face was not quite so hollow as on his first meeting with Mr. Pickwick 
 a few days before. As he took off his hat to our benevolent old friend, 
 he murmured some broken expressions of gratitude, and muttered some- 
 thing about having been saved from starving. 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Pickwick, impatiently interrupting him, 
 " you can follow with Sam. I want to speak to you, Mr. Jingle. Can 
 you walk without his arm ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Sir all ready not too fast legs shaky head queer 
 round and round earthquaky sort of feeling very." 
 
 " Here, give me your arm," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No, no," replied Jingle ; " won't indeed rather not." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Mr. Pickwick ; " lean upon me, I desire, Sir." 
 
 Seeing that he was confused and agitated, and uncertain what to do, 
 Mr. Pickwick cut the matter short by drawing the invalided stroller's 
 arm through his, and leading him away without saying another word 
 about it. 
 
 During the whole of this time, the countenance of Mr. Samuel 
 Weller had exhibited an expression of the most overwhelming and 
 absorbing astonishment that the imagination can pourtray. After look- 
 ing from Job to Jingle, and from Jingle to Job in profound silence, he 
 softly ejaculated the words, "Veil, I am damn d!" which he repeated at 
 least a score of times, after which exertion he appeared wholly bereft 
 of speech, and again cast his eyes, first upon the one and then upon 
 the other, in mute perplexity and bewilderment. 
 
 'Now, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, looking back. 
 
 " I'm a coming Sir," replied Mr. Weller, mechanically following his
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 487 
 
 master ; and still he lifted not his eyes from Mr. Job Trotter, who 
 walked at his side in silence. 
 
 Job kept his eyes fixed on the ground for some time, and Sam with 
 his, glued to Job's countenance, ran up against the people who were 
 walking about, and fell over little children, and stumbled against steps 
 and railings, without appearing at all sensible of it, until Job, looking 
 stealthily up, said 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Weller ?" 
 
 " It is him ! " exclaimed Sam ; and having established Job's identity 
 beyond all doubt, he smote his leg, and vented his feelings in a long 
 shrill whistle. 
 
 " Things has altered with me, Sir," said Job. 
 
 " I should think they had," exclaimed Mr. Weller, surveying 
 his companion's rags with undisguised wonder. " This is rayther 
 a change for the vorse, Mr. Trotter, as the genTm'n said ven he got 
 two doubtful shillin's and sixpenn'orth o' pocket-pieces for a good half- 
 crown." 
 
 " It is indeed," replied Job, shaking his head. " There is no decep- 
 tion now, Mr. Weller. Tears," said Job, with a look of momentary 
 slyness " tears are not the only proofs of distress, nor the best ones." 
 
 " No, they ain't," replied Sam, expressively. 
 
 " They may be put on, Mr. Weller," said Job. 
 
 " I know they may," said Sam ; " some people, indeed, has 'em always 
 ready laid on, and can pull out the plug venever they likes." 
 
 " Yes," replied Job ; " but these sort of things are not so easily 
 counterfeited, Mr. Weller, and it is a more painful process to get them 
 up." As he spoke, he pointed to his sallow sunken cheeks, and, draw- 
 ing up his coat sleeve, disclosed an arm which looked as if the bone 
 could be broken at a touch, so sharp and brittle did it appear beneath 
 its thin covering of flesh. 
 
 " Wot have you been a doin' to yourself?" said Sam, recoiling. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Job. 
 
 " Nothin' !" echoed Sam. 
 
 " I have been doin' nothing for many weeks past," said Job ; "and 
 eating and drinking almost as little." 
 
 Sam took one comprehensive glance at Mr. Trotter's thin face and 
 wretched apparel, and then seizing him by the arm, commenced drag- 
 ging him away with great violence. 
 
 " Where are you going, Mr. Weller ? " said Job, vainly struggling in 
 the powerful grasp of his old enemy. 
 
 " Come on," said Sam ; " come on." He deigned no further expla- 
 nation till they reached the tap, and then called for a pot of porter, 
 which was speedily produced. 
 
 " Now," said Sam, " drink that up ev'ry drop on it ; and then turn 
 the pot upside down, to let me see as you've took the med'cine." 
 
 " But my dear Mr. Weller," remonstrated Job. 
 
 " Down vith it," said Sam, peremptorily. 
 
 Thus admonished, Mr. Trotter raised the pot to his lips, and, by 
 gentle and almost imperceptible degrees, tilted it into the air. He 
 paused once, and only once, to draw a long breath, but without raising
 
 488~ POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 his face from the vessel, which, in a few moments'thereafter he held out 
 at arm's length, bottom upwards. Nothing fell upon the ground but a 
 few particles of froth, which slowly detached themselves from the rim 
 and trickled lazily down. 
 
 "Veil done," said Sam. " How do you find yourself arter it ?" 
 " Better, Sir. I think I am better," responded Job. 
 " O' course you air," said Sam, argumentatively. " It's like 
 puttin' gas in a balloon ; I can see vith the naked eye that you gets 
 stouter under the operation. Wot do you say to another o' the same 
 di-mensions." 
 
 " I would rather not, I am much obliged to you, Sir," replied Job 
 "much rather not/' 
 
 " Veil, then, wot do you say to some wittles ? " inquired Sam. 
 " Thanks to your worthy governor, Sir," said Mr. Trotter, " we have 
 half a leg of mutton, baked, at a quarter before three, with the potatoes 
 under it, to save boiling." 
 
 " Wot ! Has he been a purwidin* for you ?" asked Sam, emphati- 
 cally. 
 
 " He lias, Sir," replied Job. " More than that, Mr. Weller ; my 
 master being very ill, he got us a room we were in a kennel before 
 and paid for it, Sir ; and come to look at us at night when nobody 
 should know. Mr. Weller," said Job, with real tears in his eyes 
 for once, " I could serve that gentleman till I fell down dead at his 
 feet." 
 
 "I say," said Sam, " I'll trouble you, my friend none o' that." 
 Job Trotter looked amazed. 
 
 " None o' that, I say, young feller," repeated Sam, firmly. " No 
 vun serves him but me. And now ve're upon it, I'll let you into 
 another secret besides that," said Sam, as he paid for the beer. "I 
 never heerd, mind you, nor read of in story-books, nor see in picters, 
 any angel in tights and gaiters not even in spectacles, as I remember, 
 though that may ha' been done for anythin' I know to the contrairey ; 
 but mark my vords, Job Trotter, he's a reg'lar thorough-bred angel for 
 all that ; and let me see the man as wenturs to tell me he knows a 
 better vun." With this defiance, Mr. Weller buttoned up his change 
 in a side pocket ; and, with many confirmatory nods and gestures by 
 the way, proceeded in search of the subject of discourse. 
 
 They found Mr. Pickwick in company with Jingle, talking very 
 earnestly, and not bestowing a look on the groups who were congregated 
 on the racket-ground ; they were very motley groups too, and well 
 worth the looking at, if it were only in idle curiosity. 
 
 " Well,'' said Mr. Pickwick, as Sam and his companion drew nigh, 
 " you will see how your health becomes, and think about it meanwhile. 
 Make the statement otit for me when you feel yourself equal to the 
 task, and I will discuss the subject with you when I have considered 
 it. Now go to your room. You are tired, and not strong enough to 
 be out long." 
 
 Mr. Alfred Jingle, without one spark of his old animation with 
 nothing even of the dismal gaiety which he had assumed when Mr. 
 Pickwick first stumbled on him 'in his misery, bowed low without
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 489 
 
 speaking, and motioning to Job not to follow him just yet, crept slowly 
 away. 
 
 " Curious scene this, is it not, Sam ? " said Mr. Pickwick, looking 
 good-humouredly round. 
 
 " Wery much so, Sir,'' replied Sam. " Venders vill never cease," 
 added Sam, speaking to himself. " I'm wery much mistaken if that 
 'ere Jingle worn't a doin' somethin' in the vafer-cart vay !" 
 
 The area formed by the wall in that part of the Fleet in which Mr. 
 Pickwick stood, was just wide enough to make a good racket court, one 
 side being formed, of course, by the wall itself, and the other by that 
 portion of the prison which looked (or rather would have looked, but 
 for the wall) towards St. Paul's Cathedral. Sauntering or sitting 
 about, in every possible attitude of listless idleness, were a great num- 
 ber of debtors, the major part of whom were waiting in prison until their 
 day of ''going up" before the Insolvent Court should arrive, while 
 others had been remanded for various terms, which they were idling 
 away as they best could. Some were shabby, some were smart, many 
 dirty, a few clean ; but there they all lounged, and loitered, and slunk 
 about, with as little spirit or purpose as the beasts in a menagerie. 
 
 Lolling from the windows which commanded a view of this prome- 
 nade, were a number of persons ; some in noisy conversation with their 
 acquaintance below; others playing at ball with some adventurous 
 throwers outside ; and others looking on at the racket-players, or 
 watching the boys as they cried the game. Dirty slipshod women 
 passed and re-passed on their way to the cooking-house in one corner 
 of the yard ; children screamed, and fought, and played together, in 
 another ; the tumbling of the skittles, and the shouts of the players, 
 mingled perpetually with these and a hundred other sounds; and all 
 was noise and tumult save in a little miserable shed a few yards off, 
 where there lay, all quiet and ghastly, the body of the Chancery 
 prisoner who had died the night before, awaiting the mockery of an 
 inquest. The body ! It is the lawyer's term for the restless whirling 
 mass of cares and anxieties, affections, hopes, and griefs, that make up 
 the living man. The law had his body, and there it lay, clothed in 
 grave clothes, an awful witness to its tender mercy. 
 
 " Would you like to see a whistling-shop, Sir ? " enqxiired Job 
 Trotter. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " was Mr. Pickwick's counter enquiry. 
 
 " A vistlin' shop, Sir," interposed Mr. Weller. 
 
 " What is that, Sam ? A bird-fancier's?" enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Bless your heart, no, Sir," replied Job; "a whistling-shop, 'Sir, 
 is where they sell spirits." Mr. Job Trotter briefly explained here, 
 that all persons, being prohibited under heavy penalties from conveying 
 spirits into debtors' prisons, and such commodities being highly prized 
 by the ladies and gentlemen confined therein, it had occurred to some 
 speculative turnkey to connive, for certain lucrative considerations, at 
 two or three prisoners retailing the favourite article of gin, for their 
 own profit and advantage. 
 
 " This plan you see, Sir, has been gradually introduced into all the 
 prisons for debt," said Mr. Trotter.
 
 490 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 te And it has this wery great advantage,'' said Sam, " that the 
 turnkeys takes wery good care to seize hold o' ev'ry body but them as pays 
 'em, that attempts the willainny, and ven it gets in the papers they r re 
 applauded for their wigilance ; so it cuts two vays frightens other 
 people from the trade, and elewates their own characters." 
 
 " Exactly so, Mr. Weller," observed Job. 
 
 " Well, but are these rooms never searched to ascertain whether any 
 spirits are concealed in them r " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Cert'nly they are, Sir," replied Sam; "but the turnkeys knows 
 before -hand, and gives the vord to the vistlers, and you may vistle 
 for it ven you go to look." 
 
 By this time, Job had tapped at a door, which was opened by a gen- 
 tleman with an uncombed head, who bolted it after them when they 
 had walked in, and grinned ; upon which Job grinned, and Sam also : 
 whereupon Mr. Pickwick, thinking it might be expected of him, kept 
 on smiling till the end of the interview. 
 
 The gentleman with the uncombed head appeared quite satisfied with 
 this mute announcement of their business ; and producing a flat stone 
 bottle, which might hold about a couple of quarts from beneath his 
 bedstead, he filled out three glasses of gin, which Job Trotter and Sam 
 disposed of in a most workmanlike manner. 
 
 " Any more ? " said the whistling gentleman. 
 
 " No more." replied Job Trotter. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick paid ; the door was unbolted, and out they came; the 
 uncombed gentleman bestowing a friendly nod upon Mr. Roker, who 
 happened to be passing at the moment. 
 
 From this spot Mr. Pickwick wandered along all the galleries, up 
 and down all the staircases, and once again round the whole area of the 
 yard. The great body of the prison population appeared to be Mivins 
 and Smangle, and the parson, and the butcher, and the leg, over and 
 over, and over again. There was the same squalor, the same turmoil 
 and noise, the same general characteristics in every corner ; in the best 
 and the worst alike. The whole place seemed restless and troubled ; 
 and the people were crowding and flitting to and fro, like the shadows 
 in an uneasy dream. 
 
 "I have seen enough,'' said Mr. Pickwick, as he threw himself into 
 a chair in his little apartment, " My head aches with these scenes, 
 and my heart too. Henceforth I will be a prisoner in my own room." 
 
 And Mr. Pickwick stedfastly adhered to this determination. For three 
 long months he remained shut up all day, only stealing out at night to 
 breathe the air when the greater part of his fellow prisoners were in bed 
 or carousing in their rooms. His health was evidently beginning to 
 suffer from the closeness of the confinement, but neither the often- 
 repeated entreaties of Perker and his friends, nor the still more fre- 
 quently repeated warnings and admonitions of Mr. Samuel Weller, 
 could induce him to alter one jot of his inflexible resolution.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 491 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 RECORDS A TOUCHING ACT OF DELICATE FEELING, NOT UNMIXED 
 WITH PLEASANTRY, ACHIETED AND PERFORMED BY MESSRS. 
 DODSON AND FOGG. 
 
 IT was within a week of the close of the month of July, that a 
 hackney cabriolet, number unrecorded, was seen to proceed at a rapid 
 pace up Goswell-street ; three people were squeezed into it be- 
 sides the driver, who sat, of course, in his own particular little dickey at 
 the side ; over the apron were hung two shawls, belonging to all ap- 
 pearance to two small vixenish-looking ladies under the apron, between 
 whom, compressed into a very small compass, there was stowed away a 
 gentleman of heavy and subdued demeanour, who, whenever he ventured 
 to make an observation, was snapped up short, by one of the vixenish 
 ladies before-mentioned. Lastly, the -two vixenish ladies and the heavy 
 gentleman were giving the driver contradictory directions, all tending 
 to the one point, that he should stop at Mrs. Bardell's door, which the 
 heavy gentleman in direct opposition to, and defiance of, the vixenish, 
 ladies, contended was a green door and not a yellow one. 
 
 " Stop at the house with the green door, driver," said the heavy 
 gentleman. 
 
 " Oh ! you perwerse creetur ! " exclaimed one of the vixenish ladies. 
 " Drive to the ouse with the yellow door, cabmin." 
 
 Upon this the cabman, who in a sudden effort to pull up at the house 
 with the green door, had pulled the horse up so high that he nearly- 
 pulled him backwards into the cabriolet, let the animal's fore legs down 
 to the ground again, and paused. 
 
 " Now vere am I to pull up ? " inquired the driver. " Settle it among 
 yourselves. All I ask is, vere." 
 
 Here the contest was renewed with increased violence, and the horse 
 being troubled with a fly on his nose, the cabman humanely employed 
 his leisure in lashing him about the head, on the counter-irritation 
 principle. 
 
 " Most wotes carries the day," said one of the vixenish ladies at 
 length. " The ouse with the yellow door, cabmin." 
 
 But after the cabriolet had dashed up in splendid style to the house 
 with the yellow door, " making," as one of the vixenish ladies triumph- 
 antly said, " acterrally more noise than if one had come in one's own 
 carriage " and after the driver had dismounted to assist the ladies in 
 getting out, the small round head of Master Thomas Bardell was 
 thrust out of the one pair window of a house with a red door a few 
 numbers off. 
 
 " Aggrawatin' thing," said the vixenish lady last mentioned, darting 
 a withering glance at the heavy gentleman.
 
 492 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " My dear, it's not my fault," said the gentleman. 
 
 " Don't talk to me, you creetur, don't/' retorted the lady. " The 
 house with the red door, cabmin. Oh ! if ever a woman was troubled 
 with a ruffinly creetur, that takes a pride and pleasure in disgracing his 
 wife on every possible occasion afore strangers, I am that woman ! " 
 
 " You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Raddle/' said the other little 
 woman, who was no other than Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 " What have I been a doing of?" asked Mr. Raddle. 
 
 " Don't talk to me, don't, you brute, for fear I should be perwoked to 
 forgit my sect and strike you/' said Mrs. Raddle. 
 
 While this dialogue was going on, the driver was most ignominiously 
 leading the horse by the bridle up to the house with the red door, which 
 Master Bardell had already opened. Here was a mean and low way 
 of arriving at a friend's house ! no dashing up with all the fire and fury 
 of the animal, no jumping down of the driver and loud knocking at the 
 door, no opening the apron with a crash at the very last moment for 
 fear of the ladies sitting in a draught, and then the man handing the 
 shawls out afterwards as if he were a private coachman. The whole 
 edge of the thing had been taken off it was flatter than walking. 
 
 "Well Tommy," said Mrs. Cluppins, "how's your poor dear 
 mother?" 
 
 " Oh, she's wery well," replied Master Bardell. " She's in the front 
 parlor, all ready. "I'm ready too, I am." Here Master Bardell put his 
 hands in his pockets, and jumped off and on the bottom step of the 
 door. 
 
 " Is anybody else a goin', Tommy ? " said Mrs. Cluppins, arranging 
 her pelerine. 
 
 " Mrs. Sanders is going, she is," replied Tommy. " I'm a goin' too, 
 I am." 
 
 " Drat the boy/' said little Mrs. Cluppins. " He thinks of nobody 
 but himself. Here Tommy, dear." 
 
 " Well," said Master Bardell. 
 
 " Who else is a goin', lovey ? " said Mrs. Cluppins in an insinuating 
 manner. 
 
 " Oh ! Mrs. Rogers is a goin'," replied Master Bardell, opening his 
 eyes very wide as he delivered the intelligence. 
 
 " What! The lady as has taken the lodgings!" ejaculated Mrs. 
 Cluppins. 
 
 Master Bardell put his hands further down into his pockets, and 
 nodded exactly thirty-five times, to imply that it was the lady lodger, 
 and no other. 
 
 " Bless us !" said Mrs. Cluppins. " It's quite a party." 
 
 " Ah, if you knew what was in the cupboard, you'd say so," replied 
 Master Bardell. 
 
 " What is there, Tommy?" said Mrs. Cluppins, coaxingly. "You'll 
 tell me, Tommy, I know." 
 
 " No, I won't," replied Master Bardell, shaking his head, and 
 applying himself to the bottom step again. 
 
 "Drat the child!" muttered Mrs. Cluppins. " What a prowokin' 
 little wretch it is ! Come, Tommy, tell your dear Cluppy."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 493 
 
 " Mother said I wasn't to," rejoined Master Bardell. " I'm a goin' 
 to Lave some, I am." Cheered by this prospect, the precocious boy 
 applied himself to his infantile tread-mill with increased vigour. 
 
 The above examination of a child of tender years took place while 
 Mr. and Mrs. Raddle and the cab-driver were having an altercation 
 concerning the fare, which terminating at this point in favour of the 
 cabman, Mrs. Raddle came up tottering. 
 
 " Lauk, Mary Ann! what's the matter?" said Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 " It's put me all over in such a tremble, Betsy," replied Mrs. Raddle. 
 " Raddle ain't like a man; he leaves every think to me." 
 
 This was scarcely fair upon the unfortunate Mr. Raddle, who had 
 been thrust aside by his good lady in the commencement of the dispute, 
 and peremptorily commanded to hold his tongue. He had no oppor- 
 tunity of defending himself, however, for Mrs. Raddle gave unequivocal 
 signs of fainting ; which being perceived from the parlour window, 
 Mrs. Bardell, Mrs. Sanders, the lodger, and the lodger's servant, 
 darted precipitately out, and conveyed her into the house, all talking 
 at the same time, and giving utterance to various expressions of pity 
 and condolence, as if she were one of the most suffering mortals on 
 earth. Being conveyed into the front parlour, she was there deposited 
 on a sofa; ardjthe lady from the first floor running up to the first 
 floor, returned with a bottle of sal volatile, which, holding Mrs. Raddle 
 tight round the neck, she applied in all womanly kindness and pity to 
 her nose, until that lady with many plunges and struggles was fain to 
 declare herself decidedly better. 
 
 " Ah, poor thing ! " said Mrs. Rogers, " I know what her feelin's is, 
 too well." 
 
 "Ah, poor thing! so do I," said Mrs. Sanders : and then all the 
 ladies moaned in unison, and said they knew what it was, and they 
 pitied her from their hearts, they did ; even the lodger's little servant, 
 who was thirteen years old, and three feet high, murmured her 
 sympathy. 
 
 " But what's been the matter?" said Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " Ah, what has decomposed you, ma'am?" inquired Mrs. Rogers. 
 
 "I have been a good deal flurried," replied Mrs. Raddle, in a re- 
 proachful manner. Thereupon the ladies cast indignant looks at Mr. 
 Raddle. 
 
 " Why, the fact is," said that unhappy gentleman, stepping forward, 
 <: when we alighted at this door, a dispute arose with the driver of the 
 
 cabrioily " A loud scream from his wife at the mention of this 
 
 word, rendered all further explanation inaudible. 
 
 " You'd better leave us to bring her round, Raddle," said Mrs. Clup- 
 pins. " She'll never get better as long as you're here." 
 
 All the ladies concurred in this opinion ; so Mr. Raddle was pushed 
 out of the room, and requested to give himself an airing in the back 
 yard, which he did for about a quarter of an hour, when Mrs. Bardell 
 announced to him, with a solemn face, that he might come in now, hjjt 
 that he must be very careful how he behaved towards his wife. She 
 knew he didn't mean to be unkind ; but Mary Ann was very far from 
 strong, and, if he didn't take care, he might lose her* when he least
 
 494 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 expected it, which would be a very dreadful reflection for him after- 
 wards, and so on. All this, Mr. Raddle heard with great submission, 
 and presently returned to the parlour in a most lamb-like manner. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Rogers, ma'am," said Mrs. JBardell, " you've never 
 been introduced, I declare. Mr. Raddle, ma'am ; Mrs. Cluppins, 
 ma'am ; Mrs. Raddle, ma'am." 
 
 " Which is Mrs. Cluppins's sister," suggested Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 "Oh, indeed ! " said Mrs. Rogers, graciously ; for she was the lodger, 
 and her servant was in waiting, so she was more gracious than inti- 
 mate in right of her position. " Oh, indeed ! " 
 
 Mrs. Raddle smiled sweetly, Mr. Raddle bowed, and Mrs. Cluppins 
 said " she was sure she was very happy to have a opportunity of being 
 known to a lady which she had heerd so much in faviour of, as Mrs. 
 Rogers" a compliment which the last-named lady acknowledged with 
 graceful condescension. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Raddle," said Mrs. Bardell ; "I'm sure you ought to 
 feel very much honoured at you and Tommy being the only gentlemen 
 to escort so many ladies all the way to the Spaniard at Hampstead. 
 Don't you think he ought, Mrs. Rogers, ma'am?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly, ma'am," replied Mrs. Rogers ; after whom all the 
 other ladies responded " Oh, certainly." 
 
 " Of course I feel it, ma'am," said Mr. Raddle, rubbing his hands, 
 and evincing a slight tendency to brighten up a little. " Indeed, 
 to tell you the truth, I said, as we were coming along in the 
 cabrioily " 
 
 At the recapitulation of the word which awakened so many painful 
 recollections, Mrs. Raddle applied her handkerchief to her eyes again, 
 and uttered a half-suppressed scream ; so that Mrs. Bardell frowned 
 upon Mr. Raddle, to intimate that he had better not say anything 
 more ; and desired Mrs. Rogers's servant, with an air, to " put the wine 
 on." 
 
 This was the signal for displaying the hidden treasures of the closet, 
 which were sundry plates of oranges and biscuits, and a bottle of old- 
 crusted port that at one and nine with another of the celebrated 
 East India sherry at fourteen -pence, which were all produced in 
 honour of the lodger, and afforded unlimited satisfaction to everybody. 
 After great consternation had been excited in the mind of Mrs. Clup- 
 pins, by an attempt on the part of Tommy to recount how he had been 
 cross-examined regarding the cupboard then in action, (which was 
 fortunately nipped in the bud by his imbibing half a glass of the old- 
 crusted " the wrong way," and thereby endangering his life for some 
 seconds,) the party walked forth in quest of a Hampstead stage. This 
 was soon found, and in a couple of hours they all arrived safely in the 
 Spaniard Tea-gardens, where the luckless Mr. Raddle's very first act 
 nearly occasioned his good lady a relapse, it being neither more nor 
 less than to order tea for seven ; whereas (as the ladies one and all 
 remarked), what could have been easier than for Tommy to have 
 drank out of anybody's cup, or everybody's, if that was all, when the 
 waiter wasn't looking, which would have saved one head of tea, and 
 the tea just as good !
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 495 
 
 However, there was no help for it, and the tea-tray came with seven 
 cups and saucers, and bread and butter on the same scale. Mrs. Bar- 
 dell was unanimously voted into the chair, and Mrs. Rogers being 
 stationed on her right hand and Mrs. Raddle on her left, the meal 
 proceeded with great merriment and success. 
 
 " How sweet the country is, to-be-sure !" sighed Mrs. Rogers; " I 
 almost wish I lived in it always." 
 
 " Oh, you wouldn't like that, Ma'am," replied Mrs. Bardell, rather 
 hastily ; for it was not at all advisable, with reference to the lodgings, 
 to encourage such notions; " you wouldn't like it, Ma'am." 
 
 " Oh ! I should think you was a deal too lively and sought-after, to 
 be content with the country, Ma'am," said little Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 "Perhaps I am, Ma'am. Perhaps I am," sighed the first-floor 
 lodger. 
 
 " For lone people as have got nobody to care for them, or take care 
 of them, or as have been hurt in their mind, or that kind of thing," 
 observed Mr. Raddle, plucking up a little cheerfulness, and looking 
 round, <c the country is all very well. The country for a wounded 
 spirit they say." 
 
 Now, of all things in the world that the unfortunate man could have 
 said, any would have been preferable to this. Of course Mrs. Bar- 
 dell burst into tears, and requested to be led from the table instantly, 
 upon which the affectionate child began to cry too, most dismally. 
 
 " Would any body believe, Ma'am," exclaimed Mrs. Raddle, turn- 
 ing fiercely to the first-floor lodger, " that a woman could be married 
 to such a unmanly creetur, which can tamper with a woman's feelings as 
 he does, every hour in the day, Ma'am? " 
 
 "My dear," remonstrated Mr. Raddle, "I didn't mean anything, 
 my dear." 
 
 "You didn't mean, Sir!" repeated Mrs. Raddle, with great scorn 
 and contempt. " Go away. I can't bear the sight on you, you 
 brute." 
 
 " You must not flurry yourself, Mary Ann," interposed Mrs. Clup- 
 pius. " You really must consider yourself, my dear, which you never 
 do. Now go away, Raddle there's a good soul, or you'll only aggra- 
 vate her." 
 
 " You had better take your tea by yourself, Sir, indeed," said Mrs. 
 Rogers, again applying the smelling-bottle. 
 
 Mrs. Sanders, who, according to custom, was very busy at the bread 
 and butter, expressed the same opinion, and Mr. Raddle quietly 
 retired. 
 
 After this there was a great hoisting up of Master Bardell, who was 
 rather a large size for hugging, into his mother's arms, in which ope- 
 ration begot his boots in the tea-board, and occasioned some confusion 
 among the cups and saucers. But that description of fainting fits, 
 which is contagious among ladies, seldom lasts long, so when he had 
 been well kissed and a little cried over, Mrs. Bardell recovered, set 
 him down again, wondered how she could have been so foolish, and 
 poured out some more tea. 
 
 It was at this moment that the sound of approaching wheels was
 
 496 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 heard, and that the ladies, looking up, saw a hackney-coach stop at 
 the gar den -gate. 
 
 " More company," said Mrs. Sanders. 
 
 " It's a gentleman," said Mrs. Raddle. 
 
 " Well, if it ain't Mr. Jackson, the young man from Dodson and 
 Fogg's ! " cried Mrs. Bardell. " Why," gracious ! Surely Mr. Pick- 
 wick can't have paid the damages.'' 
 
 " Or hoffered marriage ! " said Mrs. Cluppins. 
 
 " Dear me, how slow the gentleman is," exclaimed Mrs. Rogers : 
 " Why doesn't he make haste ! " 
 
 As the lady spoke these words, Mr. Jackson turned from the coc^h 
 where he had been addressing some observations to a shabby man in 
 black leggings, who had just emerged from the vehicle with a thick 
 ash stick in his hand, and made his way to the place where the adies 
 were seated ; winding his hair round the brim of his hat as he came 
 along. 
 
 " Is anything the matter ? Has anything taken place, Mr. Jack- 
 son?" said Mrs. Bardell eagerly. 
 
 " Nothing whatever, Ma'am," replied Mr. Jackson. " How de do, 
 ladies ? I have to ask pardon, ladies, for intruding but the law, 
 ladies the law." With this apology Mr. Jackson smiled, made a 
 comprehensive bow, and gave his hair another wind. Mrs. Rogers 
 whispered Mrs. Raddle that he was really an elegant young man. 
 
 "1 called in Goswell-street," resumed Jackson, "and hearing that 
 you were here, from the slavey, took a coach and came on. Our people 
 want you down in the city directly, Mrs. Bardell.'' 
 
 " Lor ! " ejaculated that lady, starting at the sudden nature of the 
 communication. 
 
 "Yes," said Jackson, biting his lip. "It's very important and 
 pressing business, which can't be postponed on any account. Indeed, 
 Dodson expressly said so to me, and so did Fogg. I've kept the coach 
 on purpose for you to go back in." 
 
 " How very strange ! " exclaimed Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 The ladies agreed that it was very strange, but were unanimously of 
 opinion that it must be very important, or Dodson and Fogg would 
 never have sent; and further, that the business being urgent, she 
 ought to repair to Dodson and Fogg s without any delay. 
 
 There was a certain degree of pride and importance about being 
 wanted by one's lawyers in such a monstrous hurry, that was by no 
 means displeasing to Mrs. Bardell, especially as it might be reasonably 
 supposed to enhance her consequence in the eyes of the first-floor 
 lodger. She simpered a little, affected extreme vexation and hesitation, 
 and at last arrived at the conclusion that she supposed she must go. 
 
 "But won't you refresh yourself after your walk, Mr. Jackson? " 
 said Mrs. Bardell, persuasively. 
 
 " Why, really there ain't much time to lose," replied Jackson ; "and 
 I've got a friend here," he continued, looting towards the man with 
 the ash stick. 
 
 " Oh, ask your friend to come here, Sir," said Mrs. Bardell. " Pray 
 ask your friend here, Sir."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 497 
 
 " Why, thankee, I'd rather not," said Mr. Jackson, with some em- 
 barrassment of manner. " He's not much used to ladies' society, and 
 it makes him bashful. If you'll order the waiter to deliver him 
 anything short, he won't drink it off at once, won't he ? only try 
 him." Air. Jackson's fingers wandered playfully round his nose at 
 this portion of his discourse, to warn his hearers that he was speaking 
 ironically. 
 
 The waiter was at once despatched to the bashful gentleman, and 
 the bashful gentleman took something ; Mr. Jackson also took some- 
 thing, and the ladies took something for hospitality's sake. Mr. Jackson 
 then said that he was afraid it was time to go ; upon which Mrs. Sanders, 
 Mrs. Cluppins, and Tommy (who it was arranged should accompany 
 Mrs. Bardell: leaving the others to Mr. Raddle's protection) got into 
 the coach. 
 
 " Isaac," said Jackson, as Mrs. Bardell prepared to get in : looking 
 up at the man with the ash stick, who was seated on the box, smoking 
 a cigar. 
 
 Well." 
 
 " This is Mrs. Bardell." 
 
 " Oh, I know'd that, long ago," said the man. 
 
 Mrs. Bardell got in, Mr. Jackson got in after her, and away they 
 drove. Mrs. Bardell could not help ruminating on what Mr. Jackson's 
 friend had said. Shrewd creatures, those lawyers: Lord bless us, 
 how they find people out ! 
 
 " Sad thing about these costs of our people's, ain't it," said Jackson, 
 when Mrs. Cluppins and Mrs. Sanders had fallen asleep ; ' ' your bill of 
 costs I mean." 
 
 " I'm very sorry they can't get them," replied Mrs. Bardell. " But 
 if you law gentlemen do these things on speculation, why you must get 
 a loss now and then, you know." 
 
 " You gave them a cognovit for the amount of your costs after the 
 trial, I'm told," said Jackson. 
 
 " Yes. Just as a matter of form," replied Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " Certainly," replied Jackson drily. " Quite a matter of form. Quite." 
 
 On they drove, and Mrs. Bardell fell asleep. She was awakened 
 after some time by the stopping of the coach. 
 
 " Bless us !" said the lady, " are we at Freeman's Court ?" 
 
 " We're not going quite so far," replied Jackson. " Have the good- 
 ness to step out." 
 
 Mrs. Bardell, not yet thoroughly awake, complied. It was a curious 
 place : a large wall with a gate in the middle, and a gas-light burning 
 inside. 
 
 " Now, ladies," cried the man with the ash stick, looking into the 
 coach, and shaking Mrs. Sanders to wake her, " Come." Rousing her 
 friend, Mrs. Sanders alighted. Mrs. Bardell, leaning on Jackson's 
 arm, and leading Tommy by the hand, had alreadv entered the porch. 
 They followed. 
 
 The room they turned into, was even more odd -looking than 
 the porch. Such a number of men standing !about ! And they 
 stared so !
 
 498 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " What place is this ? " inquired Mrs. Bardell, pausing. 
 
 " Only one of our public offices/' replied Jackson,hurrying her through 
 a door, and looking round to see that the other women were following. 
 "Look sharp, Isaac." 
 
 " Safe and sound," replied the man with the ash stick. The door 
 swung heavily after them, and they descended a small flight of 
 steps. 
 
 "Here we are at last. All right and tight, Mrs. Bardell !" said 
 Jackson, looking exultingly round. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Mrs. Bardell, with a palpitating heart. 
 
 "Just this," replied Jackson, drawing her a little on one side ; "don't 
 be frightened, Mrs. Bardell. There never was a more delicate man than 
 Dodson, ma'am, or a more humane one than Fogg. It was their duty 
 in the way of business to take you in execution for them costs ; but 
 they were anxious to spare your feelings as much as they could. What 
 a comfort it must be to you to think how it 's been done ! This is 
 the Fleet, ma'am. Wish you good night, Mrs. Bardell. Good night, ' 
 Tommy." 
 
 As Jackson hurried away in company with the man with the ash 
 stick, another man, with a key in his hand, who had been looking on, 
 led the bewildered female to a second short flight of steps, leading to a 
 doorway. Mrs. Bardell screamed violently ; Tommy roared ; Mrs. 
 Cluppins shrunk within herself; and Mrs. Sanders made off, without 
 more ado. For there stood the injured Mr. Pickwick, taking his nightly 
 allowance of air; and beside him leant Samuel Weller, who, seeing Mrs. 
 Bardell, took his hat off with mock reverence, while his master turned 
 indignantly on his heel. 
 
 " Don't bother the woman," said the turnkey to Weller; "she's 
 just come in." 
 
 " A pris'ner!" said Sam, quickly replacing his hat. " Who's the 
 plaintives ? What for r Speak up, old feller." 
 "Dodson and Fogg," replied the man; "execution on cognovit for costs." 
 
 " Here Job, Job," shouted Sam, dashing into the passage, " run 
 to Mr. Perker's, Job; / want him directly. I see some good in this. 
 Here's a game. Hooray ! Vere's the gov'nor ?" 
 
 But there was no reply to these inquiries, for Job had started 
 furiously off, the instant he received his commission, and Mrs. Bardell 
 had fainted in real downright earnest.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 499 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 IS CHIEFLY DEVOTED TO MATTERS OF BUSINESS, AND THE TEM- 
 PORAL ADVANTAGE OF DODSON AND FOGG. MR. WINKLE RE- 
 APPEARS UNDER EXTRAORDINARY CIRCUMSTANCES; AND MR. 
 PICKWICK'S BENEVOLENCE PROVES STRONGER THAN HIS OB- 
 STINACY. 
 
 JOB TROTTER, abating nothing of his speed, ran up Holborn, some- 
 times in the middle of the road, sometimes on the pavement, and some- 
 times in the gutter, as the chances of getting along varied with the 
 press of men, women, children, and coaches, in each division of the 
 thoroughfare, and, regardless of all obstacles, stopped not for an instant 
 until he reached the gate of Gray's Inn. Notwithstanding all the ex- 
 pedition he had used, however, the gate had been closed a good half 
 hour when he reached it, and by the time he had discovered Mr. 
 Perker's laundress, who lived with a married daughter, who had be- 
 stowed her hand upon a non-resident waiter, and occupied the one- 
 pair of some number, in some street, closely adjoining to some brewery, 
 somewhere behind Gray's Inn Lane, it was within fifteen minutes of 
 the time of closing the prison for the night. Mr. Lovvten had still to 
 be ferreted out from the back parlour of the Magpie and Stump ; and 
 Job had scarcely accomplished this object, and communicated Sam 
 Weller's message, than the clock struck ten. 
 
 " There," said Lowten, " it's too late now. You can't get in to- 
 night ; you've got the key of the street, my friend." 
 
 " Never mind me," replied Job, " I can sleep anywhere. But won't 
 it be better to see Mr. Perker to-night, so that we may be there, the 
 first thing in the morning ?" 
 
 " Why," responded Lowten, after a little consideration, " if it was 
 in any body else's case, Perker wouldn't be best pleased at my going 
 up to his house, but as it's Mr. Pickwick's, I think I may venture to 
 take a cab and charge it to the office." Deciding upon this line of 
 conduct, Mr. Lowten took up his hat, and begging the assembled com- 
 pany to appoint a deputy chairman during his temporary absence, led the 
 way to the nearest coach stand, and summoning the cab of most pro- 
 mising appearance, directed the driver to repair to Montague Place, 
 Russell Square. 
 
 Mr. Perker had had a dinner party that day. as was testified by the 
 appearance of lights in the drawing-room windows, the sound of an 
 improved grand piano, and an improveable cabinet voice issuing there- 
 from ; and a rather overpowering smell of meat which pervaded the 
 steps and entry. In fact a couple of very good country agencies hap- 
 pening to come up to town at the same time, an agreeable little 
 party had been got together to meet them, comprising Mr. Snicks the
 
 500 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Life Office Secretary, Mr. Prosee the eminent counsel, three soli- 
 citors, one commissioner of bankrupts, a special pleader from the 
 Temple, a small-eyed peremptory young gentleman, his pupil, who had 
 written a lively book about the law of demises, with a vast quantity of 
 marginal notes and references ; and several other eminent and distin- 
 guished personages. From this society little Mr. Perker detached him- 
 self on his clerk being announced in a whisper ; and repairing to the 
 dining-room, there found Mr. Lowten and Job Trotter looking very 
 dim and shadowy by the light of a kitchen candle, which the gentleman 
 who condescended to appear in plush shorts and cottons for a quarterly 
 stipend, had, with a becoming contempt for the clerk and all things 
 appertaining to " the office," placed upon the table. 
 
 " Now, Lowten," said little Mr. Perker, shutting the door, 
 " what's the matter? No important letter come in a parcel, is there?" 
 
 " No, Sir," replied Lowten. "This is a messenger from Mr. Pick- 
 wick, Sir." 
 
 " From Pickwick, eh?" said the little man, turning quickly to Job. 
 " Well; what is it?" 
 
 " Dodson and Fogg have taken Mrs. Bardell in execution for her 
 costs, Sir," said Job. 
 
 " No!" exclaimed Perker, putting his hands in his pockets, and 
 reclining against the sideboard. 
 
 " Yes," said Job. " It seems they got a cognovit out of her for the 
 amount of 'em, directly after the trial." 
 
 " By Jove!" said Perker, taking both hands out of his pockets and 
 striking the knuckles of his right against the palm of his left, empha- 
 tically, " those are the cleverest scamps I ever had any thing to do 
 with ! " 
 
 " The sharpest practitioners / ever knew, Sir," observed Lowten. 
 
 " Sharp!" echoed Perker. " There's no knowing where to have 
 them." 
 
 " Very true, Sir, there is not,'' replied Lowten ; and then both 
 master and man pondered for a few seconds with animated counte- 
 nances, as if they were reflecting upon one of the most beautiful and 
 ingenious discoveries that the intellect of man had ever made. When 
 they had in some measure recovered from their trance of admiration, 
 Job Trotter discharged himself of the rest of his commission. Perker 
 nodded his head thoughtfully, and pulled out his watch. 
 
 " At ten precisely I will he there," said the little man. " Sam is 
 quite right. Tell him so. Will you take a glass of wine, Lowten ?" 
 
 " No, thank you, Sir." 
 
 " You mean yes, I think," said the little man, turning to the side- 
 board for a decanter and glasses. 
 
 As Lowten did mean yes, he said no more upon the subject, but en- 
 quired of Job, in an audible whisper, whether the portrait of Perker, 
 which hung opposite the fire-place, wasn't a wonderful likeness, to 
 which Job of course replied that it was. The wine being by this time 
 poured out, Lowten drank to Mrs. Perker and the children, and Job 
 to Perker. The gentleman in the plush shorts and cottons considering 
 it no part of his duty to show the people from the office out, con-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 501 
 
 sistently declined to answer the bell, and they showed themselves out. 
 The attorney betook himself to his drawing-room, the clerk to the 
 Magpie and Stump, and Job to Covent Garden Market to spend the 
 night in a vegetable basket. 
 
 Punctually at the appointed hour next morning the good-humoured 
 little attorney tapped at Mr. Pickwick's door, which was opened with 
 great alacrity by Sam Weller. 
 
 " Mr. Perker, Sir," said Sam, announcing the visitor to Mr. Pick- 
 wick, who was sitting at the window in a thoughtful attitude. 
 " Wery glad you've looked in accidentally, Sir. I rayther think the 
 gov'ner vants to have a vord and a half vith you, Sir.'' 
 
 Perker bestowed a look of intelligence upon Sam, intimating that he 
 understood he was not to say he had been sent for : and beckoning him 
 to approach, whispered briefly in his ear. 
 
 " Vy, you don't mean that 'ere, Sir ?" said Sam, starting back in 
 excessive surprise. 
 
 Perker nodded and smiled. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Weller looked at the little lawyer, then at Mr. Pick- 
 wick, then at the ceiling, then at Perker again ; grinned, laughed out- 
 right, and finally, catching up his hat from the carpet, without further 
 explanation disappeared. 
 
 " What does this mean?" enquired Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker 
 with astonishment. " What has put Sam into this most extraordinary 
 state ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing," replied Perker. " Come my dear Sir, 
 draw up your chair to the table. 1 have a good deal to say to you.'' 
 
 " What papers are those?" enquired Mr. Pickwick, as the little man 
 deposited on the table a small bundle of documents tied with red tape. 
 
 " The papers iu Bardell and Pickwick," replied Perker, undoing 
 the knot with his teeth. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick grated the legs of his chair against the ground ; and 
 throwing himself into it, folded his hands and looked sternly if Mr. 
 Pickwick ever could look sternly at his legal friend. 
 
 " You don't like to hear the name of the case ? " said the little man, 
 still busying himself with the knot. 
 
 " No, I do not indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 " Sorry for that," resumed Perker, " because it will form the subject 
 of our conversation." 
 
 " I would rather that the subject was never mentioned between us, 
 Perker," interposed Mr. Pickwick hastily 
 
 " Pooh pooh, my dear Sir," said the little man, untying the bundle, 
 and glancing eagerly at Mr. Pickwick out of the corners of his eyes. 
 " It must be mentioned. I have come here on purpose. Now, are 
 you ready to hear what I have to say, my dear Sir? No hurry ; if you 
 are not, I can wait. I have got this morning's paper here. Your 
 time shall be mine. There." Hereupon the little man threw one leg 
 over the other, and made a show of beginning to read, with great 
 composure and application. 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Pickwick with a sigh, but softening into a 
 smile at the same time. " Say what you have to say ; it's the old 
 story I suppose ? " 
 
 N N 2
 
 502 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " With a difference, my dear Sir ; with a difference," rejoined 
 Perker, deliberately folding up the paper and putting it into his 
 pocket again. " Mrs. Bardell, the plaintiff in the action, is within 
 these walls, Sir." 
 
 " I know it," was Mr. Pickwick's reply. 
 
 " Very good," retorted Perker. " And you know how she comes 
 here, I suppose ; I mean on what grounds, and at whose suit ? " 
 
 " Yes ; at least I have heard Sam's account of the matter,'" said Mr. 
 Pickwick, with affected carelessness. 
 
 " Sam's account of the matter," replied Perker, " is, I will venture 
 to say, a perfectly correct one. Well now, my dear Sir, the first 
 question I have to ask, is, whether this woman is to remain here?" 
 
 " To remain here !" echoed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " To remain here, my dear Sir," rejoined Perker, leaning back in 
 his chair and looking steadily at his client. 
 
 " How can you ask me?" said that gentleman. " It rests with 
 Dodson and Fogg; you know that very well." 
 
 " 1 know nothing of the kind," retorted Perker firmly. "It does 
 not rest with Dodson and Fogg ; you know the men, my dear Sir, as 
 v.-.-M as I do. It rests solely, wholly, and entirely with you." 
 
 - With me!" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, rising nervously from his 
 chair, and reseating himself directly afterwards. 
 
 The little man gave a double knock on the lid of his snuff-box, 
 opened it, took a great pinch, shut it up again, and repeated the words 
 " With you." 
 
 " I say, my dear Sir," pursued the little man, who seemed to gather 
 confidence from the snuff; "I say that her speedy liberation or per- 
 petual imprisonment rests with you, and with you alone. Hear me 
 out, my dear Sir, if you please, and do not be so very energetic, for it 
 will only put you into a perspiration and do no good whatever. I say," 
 continued Perker, checking off each position on a different finger," as 
 he laid it down ; " I say that nobody but you can rescue her from 
 this den of wretchedness ; and that you can only do that, by paying 
 the costs of this suit both of plaintiff and defendant into the hands 
 of these Freeman Court sharks. Now pray be quiet, my dear Sir." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, whose face had been undergoing most surprising 
 changes during this speech, and who was evidently on the verge of a 
 strong burst of indignation, calmed his wrath as well as he could ; and 
 Perker, strengthening his argumentative powers with another pinch of 
 snuff, proceeded. 
 
 " I have seen the woman this morning. By paying the costs, you 
 can obtain a full release and discharge from the damages ; and further 
 this I know is a far greater object of consideration with you, my 
 dear Sir a voluntary statement under her hand, in the form of a letter 
 to me, that this business was, from the very first, fomented and en- 
 couraged and brought about, by these men, Dodson and Fogg ; that 
 she deeply regrets ever having" been the instrument of annoyance or 
 injury to you ; and that she entreats me to intercede with you, and 
 implore your pardon." 
 
 " If 1 pay her costs for her," said Mr. Pickwick, indignantly ; " a 
 valuable document, indeed !"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 503 
 
 " No ' if in the case, my dear Sir," said Perker, triumphantly. 
 " There is the very letter I speak of. Brought to my office by another 
 woman at nine o'clock this morning, before 1 had set foot in this place, 
 or held any communication with Mrs. Bardell, upon my honour." 
 And selecting the letter from the bundle, the little lawyer laid it at 
 Mr. Pickwick's elbow, and took snuff for two consecutive minutes 
 without winking. 
 
 " Is this all you have to say to me ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick, 
 mildly. 
 
 " Not quite," replied Perker. " I cannot undertake to say at this 
 moment, whether the wording of the cognovit, the nature of the osten- 
 sible consideration, and the proof we can get together about the whole 
 conduct of the suit, will be sufficient to justify an indictment for con- 
 spiracy. I fear not, my dear Sir ; they are too clever for that, I doubt. 
 I do mean to say, however, that the whole facts, taken together, will 
 be sufficient to justify you in the minds of all reasonable men. And 
 now, my dear Sir, I put it to you. This one hundred and fifty pounds, 
 or whatever it may be take it in round numbers is nothing to you. 
 A jury has decided" against you ; well, their verdict is wrong, but still 
 they d'ecided as they thought right, and it is against you. You have now 
 an opportunity, on easy terms, of placing yourself in a much higher 
 
 position than you ever could by remaining here ; which would only be 
 imputed by people who didn't know you to sheer, dogged, wrong- 
 headed, brutal obstinacy : nothing else, my dear Sir, believe me. Can 
 you hesitate to avail yourself of it, when it restores you to your friends, 
 your old pursuits, your health and amusements ; when it liberates your 
 faithful and attached servant, whom you otherwise doom to -imprison- 
 ment for the whole of your life ? and above all, when it enables you to 
 take the very magnanimous revenge which I know, my dear Sir, is 
 one after your own heart of releasing this woman from a scene of 
 misery and debauchery, to which no man should ever be consigned if 
 I had my will, but the infliction of which, on any female, is frightful 
 and barbarous. Now I ask you, my dear Sir, not only as your legal 
 adviser, but as your very true friend, will you let slip the occasion of 
 attaining all these objects and doing all this good, for the paltry con- 
 sideration of a few pounds finding their way into the pockets of a couple 
 of rascals, to whom it makes no manner of difference, except that the 
 more they gain the more they'll seek, and so the sooner be led into some 
 piece of knavery that must end in a crash ? I have put these considera- 
 tions to you, my dear Sir, very feebly and imperfectly, but I ask you 
 to think of them turn them over in your mind as long as you please : 
 I wait here most patiently for your answer." 
 
 Before Mr. Pickwick could reply, before Mr. Perker had taken one 
 twentieth part of the snuff which so unusually long an address im- 
 peratively required to be followed up with, there was a low murmuring 
 of voices outside, and then a hesitating knock at the door. 
 
 " Dear, dear, 1 ' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had been evidently 
 roused by his friendYappeal ; " what- an annoyance that door is ! Who 
 is that ? " 
 
 " Me, Sir/' replied Sam Weller, putting in his head.
 
 504 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I can't speak to you just now, Sam/' said Mr. Pickwick. " I am 
 engaged at this moment, Sam." 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller. " But here's a lady 
 liere, Sir," as says she's somethin' wery partickler to disclose." 
 
 " I can't see any lady," replied "Mr. Pickwick, whose mind was 
 filled with visions of Mrs. Bardell. 
 
 " I vouldn't make too sure o' that, Sir," urged Mr. Weller, shaking 
 his head. " If you know'd who was near, Sir, I rayther think you'd 
 change your note ; as the hawk remarked to himself vith a cheerful 
 laugh, ven he heerd the robin redbreast a singin' round the corner." 
 
 " Who is it ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 '"' Vill you see her, Sir ? " asked Mr.Weller, holding the door in his 
 hand, as if he had got some curious live animal on the other side. 
 
 " I suppose I must," said Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker. 
 
 " Veil then, all in to begin," cried Sam. " Sound the gong, draw 
 up the curtain, and enter the two con-spirators." 
 
 As Sam Weller spoke, he threw the door open, and there rushed 
 tumultuously into the room, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle, leading after him 
 by the hand the identical young lady who, at Dingley Dell, had worn 
 the boots with the fur round the tops ; and who, now a very pleasing 
 compound of blushes and confusion, and lilac silk, and a smart hat, and 
 a rich lace veil, looked prettier than ever. 
 
 " Miss Arabella Allen ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, rising from his 
 chair. 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Winkle, dropping on his knees. " Mrs. Winkle. 
 Pardon, my dear friend, pardon." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick could scarcely believe the evidence of his own senses, 
 and perhaps would not have done so, but for the corroborative testimony 
 afforded by the smiling countenance of Perker, and the bodily presence, 
 in the background, of Sam and the pretty housemaid, who appeared 
 to contemplate the proceedings with the liveliest satisfaction. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Arabella in a low voice, as if alarmed at 
 the silence, " can you forgive my imprudence ? " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick returned no verbal response to this appeal, but he 
 took off his spectacles in great haste, and seizing both the young lady's 
 hands in his, kissed her a great number of times perhaps a greater 
 number than was absolutely necessary and then, still retaining one of 
 her hands, told Mr. Winkle he was an audacious young dog, and bade 
 him get up, which Mr. Winkle, who had been for some seconds 
 scratching his nose with the brim of his hat in a penitent manner, did ; 
 whereupon Mr. Pickwick slapped him on the back several times, and 
 then shook hands heartily with Perker, who, not to be behindhand in 
 the compliments of the occasion, saluted both the bride and the pretty 
 housemaid with right good will, and having wrung Mr. Winkle's hand 
 most cordially, wound up his demonstrations of joy, by taking snuff 
 enough to set any half dozen men, with ordinarily constructed noses, a 
 sneezing for life. 
 
 "Why, my dear girl," said Mr. Pickwick, "how has all this come 
 about ? Come, sit down, and let me hear it all. How well she looks, 
 doesn't she Pcrker ? " added Mr. Pickwick, surveying Arabella's face
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 5U5 
 
 with a look of as much pride and exultation, as if she had been his own 
 daughter. 
 
 " Delightful, my dear Sir," replied the little man. " If I were not 
 a married man myself, I should be disposed to envy you, you dog, I 
 should." Thus expressing himself, the little lawyer gave Mr. Winkle 
 a poke in the chest, which that gentleman reciprocated ; after which 
 they both laughed very loudly, but not so loudly as Mr. Samuel 
 Weller, who had just relieved his feelings by kissing the pretty house- 
 maid under cover of the cupboard door. 
 
 "I can never be grateful enough to you, Sam, I am sure," said 
 Arabella, with the sweetest smile imaginable. " I shall not forget your 
 exertions in the garden at Clifton." 
 
 "Don't say nothin' wotever about it, Ma'm," replied Sam. "I only 
 assisted natur, Ma'm ; as the doctor said to the boy's mother, arter he'd 
 bled him to death." 
 
 " Mary, my dear, sit down," said Mr. Pickwick, cutting short these 
 compliments. " Now then how long have you been married, eh?" 
 
 Arabella looked bashfully at her lord and master, who replied, " Only 
 three days." 
 
 "Only three days, eh?" said Mr. Pickwick. "Why, what have 
 you been doing these three months ? " 
 
 "Ah, to be sure," interposed Perker; " come, account for this idle- 
 ness. You see Pickwick's only astonishment is, that it wasn't all over 
 months ago." 
 
 " Why the fact is," replied Mr. Winkle, looking at his blushing 
 young wife, " that I could not persuade Bella to run away for a long 
 time ; and when I had persuaded her, it was a long time more before 
 we could find an opportunity. Mary had to give a month's warning, 
 too, before she could leave her place next door, and we couldn't possibly 
 have done it without her assistance." 
 
 "Upon my word," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who by this time had 
 resumed his spectacles, and was looking from Arabella to Winkle, and 
 from Winkle to Arabella, with as much delight depicted in his coun- 
 tenance as warm-heartedness and kindly feeling can communicate to 
 the human face "upon my word! you seem to have been very 
 systematic in your proceedings. And is your brother acquainted with 
 all this, my dear ? " 
 
 "Oh, no, no," replied Arabella, changing colour. "Dear Mr. 
 Pickwick, he must only know it from you from your lips alone. He 
 is so violent, so prejudiced, and has been so so anxious in behalf of 
 his friend, Mr. Sawyer," added Arabella, looking down, "that I fear 
 the consequences dreadfully." 
 
 "Ah, to be sure," said Perker, gravely. "You must take this 
 matter in hand for them, my dear Sir. These young men will respect 
 you when they would listen to nobody else. You must prevent mischief, 
 my dear Sir. Hot blood hot blood." And the little man took a 
 warning pinch, and shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " You forget, my love," said Mr. Pickwick, gently, " you forget 
 that I am a prisoner." 
 
 " No, indeed I do not, my dear Sir," replied Arabella. " I never
 
 506 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 have forgotten it ; never ceased to think how great your sufferings 
 have been in this shocking place, but I hoped that what no consider 
 
 must 
 ieration 
 
 for yourself would induce you to do, a regard to our happiness might. 
 If my brother hears of this first from you, I feel certain we shall be 
 reconciled. He is my only relation in the world, Mr. Pickwick, and 
 unless you plead for me, I fear I have lost even him. I have done 
 wrong very, very wrong, I know." Here poor Arabella hid her face 
 in her handkerchief, and wept bitterly. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick's nature was a good deal worked upon by these same 
 tears, but when Mrs. Winkle, drying her eyes, took to coaxing and 
 entreating in the sweetest tones of a very sweet voice, he became par- 
 ticularly restless, and evidently undecided how to act, as was evinced 
 by sundry nervous rubbings of his spectacle- glasses, nose, tights, head, 
 and gaiters. 
 
 Taking advantage of these symptoms of indecision, Mr. Perker (to 
 whom it appeared the young couple had driven straight that morning) 
 urged with legal point and shrewdness that Mr. Winkle, senior, was 
 still unacquainted with the important rise in life's flight of steps which 
 his son had taken; that the future expectations of the said son depended 
 entirely upon the said Winkle senior continuing to regard him with 
 undiminished feelings of affection and attachment, which it was very 
 unlikely he would do if this great event were long kept a secret from 
 him ; that Mr. Pickwick repairing to Bristol to seek Mr. Allen, might 
 with equal reason repair to Birmingham to seek Mr. Winkle, senior ; 
 lastly, that Mr. Winkle, senior, had good right and title to consider 
 Mr. Pickwick as in some degree the guardian and adviser of his son, 
 and that it consequently behoved that gentleman, and was indeed due 
 to his personal character, to acquaint the aforesaid Winkle, senior, 
 personally, and by word of mouth, with the whole circumstances of the 
 case, and with the share he had taken in the transaction. 
 
 Mr. Tupman and Mr. ^nodgrass arrived most opportunely in this 
 stage of the pleadings, ahd as it was necessary to explain to them all 
 that had occurred, together with the various reasons pro and con, the 
 whole of the arguments were gone over again, after which everybody 
 urged every argument in his own way and at his own length. And 
 at last Mr. Pickwick, fairly argued and remonstrated out of all his 
 resolutions, and being in imminent danger of being argued and remon- 
 strated out of his wits, caught Arabella in his arms, and declaring that 
 she was a very amiable creature, and that he didn't know how it was, 
 but he had always been very fond of her from the first, said he could 
 never find it in his heart to stand in the way of young people's happi- 
 ness, and they might do with him as they pleased. 
 
 Mr. Weller's first act, on hearing this concession, was to dispatch 
 Job Trotter to the illustrious Mr. Pell, with an authority to deliver to 
 the bearer the formal discharge which his prudent parent had had the 
 foresight to leave in the hands of that learned gentleman, in case it 
 should be at any time required on an emergency ; his next proceeding 
 was to invest his whole stock of ready money in the purchase of five- 
 and-twenty gallons of mild porter, which he himself dispensed on the 
 racket ground to everybody who would partake of it; this done, he
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 507 
 
 hurra'd in divers parts of the building until he had lost his voice, 
 and then quietly relapsed into his usual collected and philosophical 
 condition. 
 
 At three o'clock that afternoon, Mr. Pickwick took a last look at 
 his little room, and made his way as well as he could, through the 
 throng of debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake him by the 
 hand, until he reached the lodge steps. He turned here to look about 
 him, and his eye lightened as he did so. In all the crowd of wan 
 emaciated faces, he saw not one which was not the happier for his 
 sympathy and charity. 
 
 " Perker," said Mr. Pickwick, beckoning one young man towards 
 him, " this is Mr. Jingle, whom I spoke to you about." 
 
 " Very good, my dear Sir," replied Perker, looking hard at Jingle. 
 " You will see me again, young man, to-morrow. I hope you may 
 live to remember deeply what I shall have to communicate, Sir." 
 
 Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he took Mr. Pick- 
 wick's proffered hand, and withdrew. 
 
 " Job you know, I think ?" said Mr. Pickwick, presenting that gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " I know the rascal," replied Perker, good-humouredly. " See after 
 your friend, and be in the way to-morrow at one. Do you hear? Now, 
 is there anything more ?" 
 
 " Nothing," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. " You have delivered the 
 little parcel I gave you for your old landlord, Sam ? " 
 
 " 1 have, Sir," replied Sam. (< He bust out a cryin', Sir, and said 
 you wos wery gen'rous and thoughtful, and he only wished you could 
 have him innockilated for a gallopin' consumption, for his old friend as 
 had lived here so long wos dead, and he'd noveres to look for another." 
 
 " Poor fellow, poor fellow !" said Mr. Pickwick. " God bless you, 
 my friends !" 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick uttered this adieu, the crowd raised a loud shout, 
 and many among them were pressing forward to shake him by the hand 
 again, when he drew his arm through Perker's, and hurried from the 
 prison, far more sad and melancholy, for the moment, than when he 
 had first entered it. Alas ! how many sad and unhappy beings had he 
 left behind ! and how many of them lie caged there, still ! 
 
 A happy evening was that for at least one party in the George and 
 Vulture, and light and cheerful were two of the hearts that emerged 
 from its hospitable door next morning ; the owners thereof were Mr. 
 Pickwick and Sam Weller, the former of whom was speedily deposited 
 inside a comfortable post coach, with a little dickey behind," in which 
 the latter mounted with great agility. 
 
 " Sir," called out Mr. Weller, to his master. 
 
 " Well, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick, thrusting his head out of the 
 window. 
 
 " I wish them horses had been three months and better in the Fleet, 
 Sir." 
 
 " Why, Sam?" inquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Vy, Sir," exclaimed Mr. Weller, rubbing his hands, " how they 
 vould go if they had been ! "
 
 508 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 RELATES HOW MK. PICKWICK, WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF SAMUEL 
 WELLER, ESSAYED TO SOFTEN THE HEART OF MR. BENJAMIN 
 ALLEN, AND TO MOLLIFY THE WRATH OF MR. ROBERT SAWYER. 
 
 MR. BEN ALLEN and Mr. Bob Sawyer sat together in the little 
 surgery behind the shop, discussing minced veal and future prospects, 
 when the discourse, not unnaturally, turned upon the practice acquired 
 by Bob the aforesaid, and his present chances of deriving a competent 
 independence from the honourable profession to which he had devoted 
 himself. 
 
 " Which, I think," observed Mr. Bob Sawyer, pursuing the 
 thread of the subject, " which I think, Ben, are rather dubious." 
 
 " What's rather dubious f " enquired Mr. Ben Allen, at the same 
 time sharpening his intellects with a draught of beer. "What's 
 dubious?" 
 
 " Why, the chances," responded Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 "I forgot," said Mr. Ben Allen. " The beer has reminded me that 
 I forgot, Bob yes ; they are dubious." 
 
 " It's wonderful how the poor people patronise me," said Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, reflectively. " They knock me up at all hours of the night, 
 take medicine to an extent which I should have conceived impossible, 
 put on blisters and leeches with a perseverance worthy of a better cause, 
 and make additions to their families in a manner which is quite awful. 
 Six of those last-named little promissory notes, all due on the same day 
 Ben, and all entrusted to me." 
 
 "It's very gratifying, isn't it?" said Mr. Ben Allen, holding his 
 plate for some more minced veal. 
 
 " Oh, very," replied Bob ; " only not quite so much so as the confidence 
 of patients, with a shilling or two to spare, would be. This business 
 was capitally described in the advertisement, Ben. It is a practice, a 
 very extensive practice and that's all." 
 
 " Bob," said Mr. Ben Allen, laying down his knife and fork, and 
 fixing his eyes on the visage of his friend " Bob, I'll tell you what 
 it is." 
 
 " What is it ? " enquired Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " You must make yourself, with as little delay as possible, master of 
 Arabella's one thousand pounds." 
 
 " Three per cent, consolidated Bank annuities, now standing in her 
 name in the book or books of the Gove~nor and Company of the Bank 
 of England," added Bob Sawyer, in legal phraseology. 
 
 " Exactly so," said Ben. '" She has it when she comes of age, or 
 marries. She wants a year of coming of age, and if you plucked up a 
 spirit she needn't want a month of being married."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 509 
 
 " She's a very charming and delightful creature," quoth Mr. Robert 
 Sawyer, in reply ; " and has only one fault that I know of, Ben. It 
 happens unfortunately, that that single blemish is a want of taste. 
 She don't like me." 
 
 " It's my opinion that she don't know what she does like/' said Mr. 
 Ben Allen, contemptuously. 
 
 " Perhaps not," remarked Mr. Bob Sawyer. " But it's my opinion 
 that she does know what she doesn't like, and that's, of even more 
 importance." 
 
 " I wish," said Mr. Ben Allen, setting his teeth together, and speaking 
 more like a savage warrior who fed upon raw wolf's flesh which he 
 carved with his fingers, than a peaceable young gentleman who eat 
 minced veal with a knife and fork " I wish I knew whether any 
 rascal really has been tampering with her, and attempting to engage 
 her affections. I think I should assassinate him, Bob." 
 
 " I'd put a bullet in him if I found him out," said Mr. Sawyer, 
 stopping in the course of a long draught of beer, and looking malig- 
 nantly out of the porter pot. " If that didn't do his business, I'd extract 
 it afterwards, and kill him that way." 
 
 Mr. Benjamin Allen gazed abstractedly on his friend for some minutes 
 in silence, and then said 
 
 " You have never proposed to her point-blank, Bob ?" 
 
 " No. Because I saw it would be of no use/' replied Mr. Robert 
 Sawyer. 
 
 " You shall do it before you are twenty-four hours older," retorted 
 Ben, with desperate calmness. " She shall have you, or I'll know the 
 reason why I'll exert my authority." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Bob Sawyer, " We shall see.'' 
 
 " We shall see, my friend," replied Mr. Ben Allen, fiercely. He 
 paused for a few seconds, and added in a voice broken by emotion, 
 " You have loved her from a child, my friend you loved her when we 
 were boys at school together, and even then she was wayward, and 
 slighted your young feelings. Do you recollect, with all the eagerness 
 of a child's love, one day pressing upon her acceptance two small 
 carraway-seed biscuits and one sweet apple, neatly folded into a circular 
 parcel with the leaf of a copy-book ? " 
 
 " I do," replied Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " She slighted that, I think ? " said Ben Allen. 
 
 " She did," rejoined Bob. " She said I had kept the parcel so long 
 in the pockets of my corduroys, that the apple was unpleasantly warm." 
 
 " I remember," said Mr. Allen, gloomily. " Upon which we ate it 
 ourselves, in alternate bites." 
 
 Bob Sawyer intimated his* recollection of the circumstance last 
 alluded to, by a melancholy frown ; and the two friends remained for 
 some time absorbed, each in his own meditations. 
 
 While these observations were being exchanged between Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer and Mr. Benjamin Allen, and while the boy in the grey livery, 
 marvelling at the unwonted prolongation of the dinner, cast an" anxious 
 look from time to time towards the glass door, distracted by inward 
 misgivings regarding the amount of minced veal which would be ulti-
 
 510 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 mately reserved for his individual cravings, there rolled soberly on 
 through the streets of Bristol, a private fly, painted of a sad green 
 colour, drawn by a chubby sort of brown horse, and driven by a surly 
 looking man with his legs dressed like the legs of a groom, and his body 
 attired in the coat of a coachman. Such appearances are common to 
 many vehicles belonging to, and maintained by, old ladies of economical 
 habits ; and in this vehicle there sat an old lady who was its mistress 
 and proprietor. 
 
 " Martin ! " said the old lady, calling to the surly man out of the front 
 window. 
 
 "Well?" said the surly man, touching his hat to the old lady. 
 
 " Mr. Sawyer's," said the old lady. 
 
 " I was going there," said the surly man. 
 
 The old lady nodded the satisfaction which this proof of the surly 
 man's foresight imparted to her feelings ; and the surly man giving a 
 smart lash to the chubby horse, they all repaired to Mr. Bob Sawyer's 
 together. 
 
 " Martin !" said the old lady, when the fly stopped at the door of Mr. 
 Kobert Sawyer late Nockemorf. 
 
 "Well?" said Martin. 
 
 " Ask the lad to step out and mind the horse." 
 
 " I'm going to mind the horse myself," said Martin, laying his whip 
 on the roof of the fly. 
 
 " I can't permit it on any account," said the old lady ; " your 
 testimony will be very important, and I must take you into the house 
 with me. You must not stir from my side during the whole interview. 
 Do you hear ? " 
 
 " I hear," replied Martin. 
 
 " Well ; what are you stopping for ? " 
 
 "Nothing," replied Martin. So saying, the surly man leisurely 
 descended from the wheel upon which he had been poising himself on 
 the tops of the toes of his right foot, and having summoned the boy in 
 the grey livery, opened the coach-door, flung down the steps, and 
 thrusting in a hand enveloped in a dark wash-leather glove, pulled out 
 the old lady with as much unconcern in his manner as if she were a 
 bandbox. 
 
 ''Dear me," exclaimed the old lady, " I am so flurried now I have 
 got here Martin, that I'm all in a tremble. " 
 
 Mr. Martin coughed behind the dark wash-leather glove, but 
 expressed no further sympathy ; so the old lady, composing herself, 
 trotted up Mr. Bob Sawyer's steps, and Mr. Martin followed. Imme- 
 diately upon the old lady's entering the shop, Mr. Benjamin Allen 
 and Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had been putting the spirits and water 
 out of sight, and upsetting nauseous drugs to take off the smell of 
 the tobacco-smoke, issued hastily forth in a transport of pleasure and 
 affection. 
 
 "My dear aunt," exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, "how kind of you to 
 look in upon us. Mr. Sawyer, aunt ; my friend Mr. Bob Sawyer that 
 I have spoken to you about, regarding you know, aunt." And here 
 Mr. Ben Allen, who was not at the moment extraordinarily sober, added
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 511 
 
 the word " Arabella," in what was meant to be a whisper, but which 
 was in fact an especially audible and distinct tone of speech, which 
 nobody could avoid hearing, if anybody were so disposed. 
 
 " My dear Benjamin," said the old lady, struggling with a great 
 shortness of breath, and trembling from head to foot " don't be 
 alarmed, my dear, but I think I had better speak to Mr. Sawyer alone 
 for a moment only for one moment." 
 
 " Bob," said Mr. Ben Allen, " will you take my aunt into the 
 surgery ? " 
 
 " Certainly," responded Bob, in a most professional voice. " Step 
 this way, my dear Ma'am. Don't be frightened, Ma'am. We shall be 
 able to set you to rights in a very short time, I have no doubt, Ma'am. 
 Here, my dear Ma'am. Noxv then.'.' With this Mr. Bob Sawyer 
 having handed the old lady to a chair, shut the door, drew another 
 chair close to her, and waited to hear detailed the symptoms of some 
 disorder from which he saw in perspective a long train of profits and 
 advantages. 
 
 The first thing the old lady did, was to shake her head a great many 
 times, and begin to cry. 
 
 " Nervous," said Bob Sawyer complacently. " Camphor-julep and 
 water three times a day, and composing draught at night." 
 
 " I don't know how to begin, Mr. Sawyer," said the old lady. " It 
 is so very painful and distressing." 
 
 " You need not begin, Ma'am," rejoined Mr. Bob Sawyer. " I can 
 anticipate all you would say. The head is in fault." 
 
 " I should be very sorry to think it was the heart," said the old lady, 
 with a slight groan. 
 
 " Not the slightest danger of that, Ma'am," replied Bob Sawyer. 
 " The stomach is the primary cause." 
 
 "Mr. Sawyer !" exclaimed the old lady, starting. 
 
 " Not the least doubt of it, Ma'am," rejoined Bob, looking wondrous 
 wise. "Medicine, in time, my dear Ma'am, would have prevented 
 it all." 
 
 "Mr. Sawyer," said the old lady, more flurried than before, " this 
 conduct is either great impertinence to one in my situation, Sir, or it 
 arises from your not understanding the object of my visit. If it had 
 been in the power of medicine or any foresight I could have used to 
 prevent what has occurred, I should certainly have done so. I had 
 better see my nephew at once," said the old lady, twirling her reticule 
 indignantly, and rising as she spoke. 
 
 " Stop a moment, Ma'am," said Bob Sawyer ; " I am afraid I have 
 not understood you. What is the matter, Ma'am ? " 
 
 " My niece, Mr. Sawyer," said the old lady "your friend's 
 sister." 
 
 " Yes, Ma'am," said Bob, all impatience ; for the old lady, although 
 much agitated, spoke with the most tantalising deliberation, as old 
 ladies often do. " Yes, Ma'am." 
 
 " Left my home, Mr. Sawyer, three days ago, on a pretended visit to 
 my sister, another aunt of hers, who keeps the large boarding school 
 just beyond the third mile-stone, where there is a very large laburnum
 
 512 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 tree and an oak gate," said the old lady, stopping in this place to dry 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, devil take the laburnum tree ! Ma'am/' said Bob, quite for- 
 getting his professional dignity in his anxiety. " Get on a little faster ; 
 put a little more steam on, Ma'am, pray." 
 
 This morning," said the old lady, slowly, "this morning, she " 
 
 ' She came back Ma'am, I suppose," said Bob, with great anima- 
 tion. " Did she come back ? " 
 
 No, she did not she wrote," replied the old lady. 
 What did she say ? " enquired Bob, eagerly. 
 
 'She said, Mr. Sawyer," replied the old lady "and it is this I 
 want you to prepare Benjamin's mind for, gently and by degrees ; she 
 said that she was I have got the letter in my pocket, Mr. Sawyer, 
 but my glasses are in the carriage, and I should only waste the time if 
 I attempted to point out the passage to you, without them ; she said, 
 in short, Mr. Sawyer, that she was married." 
 
 " What ! " said, or rather shouted, Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " Married." repeated the old lady. 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer stopped to hear no more ; but darting from the 
 surgery into the outer shop, cried in a stentorian voice, " Ben, my 
 boy, she's bolted ! " 
 
 Mr. Ben Allen, who had been slumbering behind the counter with 
 his head half a foot or so below his knees, no sooner heard this appal- 
 ling communication, than he made a precipitate rush at Mr. Martin, 
 and twisting his hand in the neckcloth of that taciturn servitor, ex- 
 pressed an obliging intention of choking him where he stood, which 
 intention, with a promptitude often the effect of desperation, he at 
 once commenced carrying into execution with much vigour and surgical 
 skill. 
 
 Mr. Martin, who was a man of few words and possessed but little 
 power of eloquence or persuasion, submitted to this operation with a 
 very calm and agreeable expression of countenance, for some seconds : 
 finding, however, that it threatened speedily to lead to a result which 
 would place it beyond his power to claim any wages, board or other- 
 wise, in all times "to come, he muttered an inarticulate remonstrance, 
 and felled Mr. Benjamin Allen to the ground. As that gentleman 
 had got his hands entangled in his cravat, he had no alternative but to 
 follow him to the floor. There they both lay struggling, when the 
 shop-door opened, and the party was increased by the arrival of two 
 most unexpected visitors, to wit, Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Samuel 
 Weller. 
 
 The impression at once produced upon Mr. Wcller's mind by what 
 he saw, was, that Mr. Martin was hired by the establishment of Sawyer 
 late Nockemorf, to take strong medicine, or to go into fits and be 
 experimentalised upon, or to swallow poison now and then with the 
 view of testing the efficacy of some new antidotes, or to do something 
 or other to promote the great science of medicine, and gratify the 
 ardent spirit of enquiry burning in the bosoms of its two young pro- 
 fessors. So, without presuming to interfere, Sam stood perfectly still, 
 and looked on as if he were mightily interested in the result of the then
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 513 
 
 pending experiment. Not so, Mr. Pickwick. He at once threw 
 himself upon the astonished combatants with his accustomed energy, 
 and loudly called upon the by-standers to interpose. 
 
 This roused Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had been hitherto quite paralysed 
 by the frenzy of his companion ; and with that gentleman's assistance, 
 Mr. Pickwick raised Ben Allen to his feet. Mr. Martin finding 
 himself alone on the floor, got up and looked about him. 
 
 " Mr. Allen," said Mr. Pickwick," what is the matter, Sir? " 
 
 " Never mind, Sir," replied Mr. Allen, with haughty defiance. 
 
 "What is it? "enquired Mr. Pickwick, looking at Bob Sawyer. 
 ' ' Is he unwell ? " 
 
 Before Bob could reply, Mr. Ben Allen seized Mr. Pickwick by 
 the hand, and murmured, in sorrowful accents, " My sister, my dear 
 Sir ; my sister." 
 
 " Oh, is that all ! " said Mr. Pickwick. " We shall easily arrange 
 that matter, I hope. Your sister is safe and well, and I am here, my 
 dear Sir, to " 
 
 " Sorry to do any thin' as may cause an interruption to such wery 
 pleasant proceeding, as the king said ven he dissolved the parliament," 
 interposed Mr. Welle; , who had been peeping through the glass door ; 
 "but there's another experiment here, Sir. Here's a wenerable old 
 lady a lyin' on the carpet vaitin' for dissection, or galwinism, or some 
 other rewivin' and scientific inwention." 
 
 " I forgot," exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen. " It is my aunt." 
 
 " Dear me," said Mr. Pickwick. " Poor lady ! gently Sam, gently." 
 
 " Strange sitivation for one o' the family," observed Sam Weller, 
 hoisting the aunt into a chair. " Now, depitty Sawbones, bring out 
 the wollatilly." 
 
 The latter observation was addressed to the boy in grey, who, having 
 handed over the fly to the care of the street-keeper, had come back to see 
 what all the noise was about. Between the boy in grey, and Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, and Mr. Benjamin Allen (who having frightened his aunt into a 
 fainting fit, was affectionately solicitous for her recovery) the old lady 
 was at length restored to consciousness ; and then Mr. Ben Allen, turning 
 with a puzzled countenance to Mr. Pickwick, asked him what he was 
 about to say when he had been so alarmingly interrupted. 
 
 " We are all friends here, I presume ? " said Mr. Pickwick, clearing 
 his voice, and looking towards the man of few words with the surly 
 countenance, who drove the fly with the chubby horse. 
 
 This reminded Mr. Bob Sawyer that the boy in grey was looking 
 on, with eyes wide open and greedy ears. The incipient chemist 
 having been lifted up by his coat collar and dropped outside the door, 
 Bob Sawyer assured Mr. Pickwick that he might speak without 
 reserve. 
 
 " Your sister, my dear Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, turning to Benja- 
 min Allen, " is in London ; well and happy." 
 
 " Her happiness is no object to me, Sir," said Mr. Benjamin Allen, 
 with a flourish of the hand. 
 
 "Her husband is an object to me, Sir," said Bob Sawyer. "He 
 shall be an object to me, Sir, at twelve paces, and a very pretty object
 
 514 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 I'll make of him, Sir a mean-spirited scoundrel ! " This, as it stood, 
 was a very pretty denunciation, and magnanimous withal; but Mr. 
 Bob Sawyer rather weakened its effect, by winding up with some 
 general observations concerning the punching of heads and knocking 
 out of eyes, which were commonplace by comparison. 
 
 " Stay, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick ; "before you apply those epithets 
 to the gentleman in question, consider dispassionately the extent of his 
 fault, and above all remember that he is a friend of mine." 
 
 " What !" said Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " His name," cried Ben Allen. " His name." 
 
 " Mr. Nathaniel Winkle." said Mr. Pickwick, firmly. 
 
 Mr. Benjamin Allen deliberately crushed his spectacles beneath 
 the heel of his boot, and having picked up the pieces and put them 
 into three separate pockets, folded his arms, bit his lips, and looked in 
 a threatening manner at the bland features of Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Then it ? s you, is it, Sir, who have encouraged and brought about 
 this match ?" inquired Mr. Benjamin Allen, at length. 
 
 " And it's this gentleman's servant, I suppose," interrupted the old 
 lady, "who has been skulking about my house, and endeavouring to 
 entrap my servants to conspire against their mistress. Martin !" 
 
 " Well?'' said the surly man, coming forward. 
 
 " Is that the young man you saw in the lane, whom you told me 
 about this morning ? " 
 
 Mr. Martin, who, as it has already appeared, was a man of few 
 words, looked at Sam Weller, nodded his head, and growled forth, 
 " That 's the man.' 5 Mr. Weller, who was never proud, gave a smile 
 of friendly recognition as his eyes encountered those of the surly groom, 
 and admitted, in courteous terms, that he had " knowed him afore." 
 
 " And this is the faithful creature," exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, 
 " that I had nearly suffocated ! Mr. Pickwick, how dare you allow 
 your fellow to be employed in the abduction of my sister ? I demand 
 that you explain this matter, Sir." 
 
 " Explain it, Sir !" cried Bob Sawyer, fiercely. 
 It 's a conspiracy," said Ben Allen. 
 A regular plant," added Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 A disgraceful imposition," observed the old lady. 
 Nothing but a do," remarked Martin. 
 
 Pray hear me," urged Mr. Pickwick, as Mr. Ben Allen fell into 
 a chair that patients were bled in, and gave way to his pocket-hand- 
 kerchief. " I have rendered no assistance in this matter, beyond that 
 of being present at one interview between the young people, which I 
 could not prevent, and from which I conceived my presence would re- 
 move any slight colouring of impropriety that it might otherwise have 
 had : this is the whole share I have taken in the transaction, and I 
 had no suspicion that an immediate marriage was even contemplated. 
 Though, mind," added Mr. Pickwick, hastily checking himself, " mind, 
 I do not say 1 should have prevented it, if I had known that it was in- 
 tended." 
 
 " You hear that, all of you; you hear that?" said Mr. Benjamin 
 Allen.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 515 
 
 " I hope they do," mildly observed Mr. Pickwick, looking round"; 
 " and," added that gentleman, his colour mounting as he spoke, " I 
 hope they hear this, Sir, also, that from what has been stated to me, 
 Sir, I assert that you were by no means justified in attempting to force 
 your sister's inclinations as you did, and that you should rather have 
 endeavoured by your kindness and forbearance to have supplied the 
 place of other nearer relations whom she has never known from a child. 
 As regards my young friend, I must beg to add, that in every point 
 of worldly advantage, he is at least on an equal footing with yourself, 
 if not on a much better one, and that unless I hear this question dis- 
 cussed with becoming temper and moderation, I decline hearing any 
 more said upon the subject." 
 
 " I vish to make a wery few remarks in addition to wot has been 
 put forard by the honorable gen'lm'n as has jist given over,'' said Mr. 
 Weller, stepping forth, " vich is this here : a indiwidual in company 
 lias called me a feller." 
 
 " That has nothing whatever to do with the matter, Sam," inter- 
 posed Mr. Pickwick. " Pray hold your tongue." 
 
 " I ain't a goin' to say nothin' on that ere pint, Sir," replied Sam, 
 " but merely this here. P'raps that gen'lm'n may think as there vos 
 a priory 'tachment, but there vorn't nothin' o' the sort, for the young 
 lady said in the wery beginnin' o' the keepin' company that she couldn't 
 abide him. Nobody's cut him out, and it 'ud ha' been just the wery 
 same for him if the young lady had never seen Mr. Vinkle. That's 
 wot I vished to say, Sir, and I hope I've now made that 'ere gen'lm'n's 
 mind easy." 
 
 A short pause followed these consolatory remarks of Mr. Weller, 
 and then Mr. Ben Alien rising from his chair, protested that he would 
 never see Arabella's face again, while Mr. Bob Sawyer, despite Sam's 
 flattering assurance, vowed dreadful vengeance on the happy bridegroom. 
 
 But, just when matters were at their height and threatening to 
 remain so, Mr. Pickwick found a powerful assistant in the old lady, 
 who, evidently much struck by the mode in which he had advocated 
 her niece's cause, ventured to approach Mr. Benjamin Allen with a 
 few comforting reflections, of which the chief were, that after all, per- 
 haps, it was well it was no worse ; the least said the soonest 
 mended, and upon her word she did not know that it was so very bad 
 after all ; that what was over couldn't be begun, and what couldn't be 
 cured must be endured, with various other assurances of the like novel 
 and strengthening description. To all of which, Mr. Benjamin Allen 
 replied that he meant no disrespect to his aunt or anybody there, but 
 if it were all the same to them, and they would allow him to have his 
 own way, he would rather have the pleasure of hating his sister till 
 death and after it. 
 
 At length when this determination had been announced half a 
 hundred times, the old lady suddenly bridling up and looking verj 
 majestic, wished to know what she had done that no respect was to be 
 paid to her years or station, and that she should be obliged to beg and 
 pray in that way of her own nephew, whom she remembered about five- 
 and-tweuty years before he was born, and whom she had known
 
 516 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 personally when he hadn't a tooth in his head ; to say nothing of her 
 presence on the first occasion of his having his hair cut, and assistance 
 at numerous other times and ceremonies during his habyhood, of suffi- 
 cient importance to found a claim upon his affection, obedience, and 
 sympathies, for ever. 
 
 While the good lady was bestowing this objurgation on Mr. Ben Allen, 
 Bob Sawyer and Mr. Pickwick had retired in close conversation to the 
 inner room, where the former gentleman was observed to apply himself 
 several times to the mouth of a black bottle, under the influence of 
 which, his features gradually assumed a cheerful and even jovial expres- 
 sion. And at last he emerged from the room, bottle in hand, and 
 remarking that he was very sorry to say he had been making a fool of 
 himself, begged to propose the health and happiness of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Winkle, whose felicity, so far from envying, he would be the first to 
 congratulate them upon. Hearing this, Mr. Ben Allen suddenly arose 
 from his chair, and seizing the black bottle drank the toast so heartily, 
 that, the liquor being strong, he became nearly as black in the face as 
 the bottle itself. Finally the black bottle went round till it was empty, 
 and there was so much shaking of hands and interchanging of com- 
 plements, that even the metal- visaged Mr. Martin condescended to 
 smile. 
 
 " And now," said Bob Sawyer, rubbing his hands, " we '11 have a 
 jolly night." 
 
 " I am sorry," said Mr. Pickwick, " that I must return to my inn. 
 I have not been accustomed to fatigue lately, and my journey has tired 
 me exceedingly." 
 
 " You '11 take some tea, Mr. Pickwick ? " said the old lady, with ir- 
 resistible sweetness. 
 
 " Thank you, I would rather not," replied that gentleman. The 
 truth is, that the old lady's evidently increasing admiration was Mr. 
 Pickwick's principal inducement for going. He thought of Mrs. Bar- 
 dell . and every glance of the old lady's eyes threw him into a cold 
 perspiration. 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick could by no means be prevailed upon to stay, it 
 was arranged at once, on his own proposition, that Mr. Benjamin 
 Allen should accompany him on his journey to the elder Mr. Winkle's, 
 and that the coach should be at the door at nine o'clock next morning. 
 He then took his leave, and, followed by Samuel Weller, repaired to 
 the Bush. It is worthy of remark, that Mr. Martin's face was hor- 
 ribly convulsed as he shook hands with Sam at parting, and that he 
 gave vent to a smile and an oath simultaneously, from which tokens it 
 has been inferred by those who were best acquainted with that gentle- 
 man's peculiarities that he expressed himself much pleased with Mr. 
 Weller's society, and requested the honor of his further acquaintance. 
 
 "Shall I order a private room, Sir?" inquired Sam, when they 
 reached the Bush. 
 
 " Why, no, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick ; " as I dined in the coffee 
 room, and shall go to bed soon, it is hardly worth while. See who 
 there is in the traveller's room, Sam." 
 
 Mr. Weller departed on his errand, and presently returned to say
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 517 
 
 that there was only a gentleman with one eye, and the landlord, who 
 were drinking a bowl of bishop together. 
 
 " I will join them," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " He 's a queer customer, the vun-eyed vun, Sir," observed Mr. 
 Weller, as he led the way. " He 's a gammonin' that 'ere landlord, he 
 is, Sir, till he don't rightly know vether he 's a standing on the soles of 
 his boots or the crown of his hat." 
 
 The individual to whom this observation referred, was sitting at the 
 upper end of the room when Mr. Pickwick entered, and was smoking 
 a large Dutch pipe, with his eye intently fixed upon the round face 
 of the landlord, a jolly looking old personage, to whom he had re- 
 cently been relating some tale of wonder, as was testified by sundry 
 disjointed exclamations of, " Well, I wouldn't have believed it ! The 
 strangest thing I ever heard! Couldn't have supposed it possible!'' 
 and other expressions of astonishment which burst spontaneously from 
 his lips as he returned the fixed gaze of the one-eyed man. 
 
 " Servant, Sir," said the one-eyed man to Mr. Pickwick. " Fine 
 night, Sir." 
 
 " Very much so indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick, as the waiter placed 
 a small decanter of brandy, and some hot water before him. 
 
 While Mr. Pickwick was mixing his brandy and water, the one- 
 eyed man looked round at him earnestly, from time to time, and at 
 length said 
 
 "I think I've seen you before." 
 
 " I don't recollect you," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I dare say not," said the one-eyed man. " You didn't know me, 
 but I knew two friends of yours that were stopping at the Peacock at 
 Eatanswill, at the time of the Election." 
 
 "Oh, indeed !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick 
 
 tf Yes," rejoined the one eyed man. '* I mentioned a little circum- 
 stance to them about a friend of mine of the name of Tom Smart. 
 Perhaps you've heard them speak of it." 
 
 " Often," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, smiling. " He was your uncle, I 
 think ? " 
 
 " No, no only a friend of my uncle's/' replied the one-eyed man. 
 
 " He was a wonderful man, that uncle of yours, though," remarked the 
 landlord, shaking his head. 
 
 " Well, I think he was ; I think I may say he was," answered the 
 one-eyed man. " I could tell you a story about that same uncle, gen- 
 tlemen, that would rather surprise you." 
 
 " Could you ? " said Mr. Pickwick. " Let us hear it by all means." 
 
 The one-eyed Bagman ladled out a glass of negus from the bowl, and 
 drank it, smoked a long whiff out of the Dutch pipe, and then calling 
 to Sam Weller who was lingering near the door, that he needn't go 
 away unless he wanted to. because the story was no secret, fixed his 
 eye upon the landlord's, and proceeded in the words of the next chapter. 
 
 oo 2
 
 518 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 CONTAINING THE STORY OF THE BAGMAN'S UNCLE. 
 
 " MY uncle, gentlemen," said the bagman, " was one of the mer- 
 riest, pleasantest, cleverest fellows that ever lived. I wish you had 
 known him, gentlemen. On second thoughts, gentlemen, I don't wish 
 you had known him, for if you had, you would have heen all by this 
 time in the ordinary course of nature, if not dead, at all events so near 
 it, as to have taken to stopping at home and giving up company, 
 which would have deprived me of the inestimable pleasure of address- 
 ing you at this moment. Gentlemen, I wish your fathers and mothers 
 had known my uncle. They would have been amazingly fond of him, 
 especially your respectable mothers, I know they would. If any two 
 of his numerous virtues predominated over the many that adorned his 
 character, I should say they were his mixed punch and his after- 
 supper song. Excuse my dwelling upon these melancholy recollections 
 of departed worth ; you won't see a man like my uncle every day in 
 the week. 
 
 " I have always considered it a great point in my uncle's character, 
 gentlemen, that he was the intimate friend and companion of Tom 
 Smart, of the great house of Bilson and Slum, Cateaton Street, City. 
 My uncle collected for Tiggin and Welps, but for a long time he went 
 pretty near the same journey as Tom ; and the very first night they 
 met, my uncle took a fancy for Tom, and Tom took a fancy for my 
 uncle. They made a bet of a new hat before they had known each 
 other half an" hour, who should brew the best quart of punch and drink 
 it the quickest. My uncle was judged to have won the making, but 
 Tom Smart beat him in the drinking by about half a salt-spoon-full. 
 They took another quart a-piece to drink each other's health in, and 
 were staunch friends ever afterwards. There 's a destiny in these things 
 gentlemen ; we can't help it. 
 
 " In personal appearance, my uncle was a trifle shorter than the 
 middle size ; he was a thought stouter too, than the ordinary run of 
 people, and perhaps his face might be a shade redder. He had the 
 jolliest face you ever saw, gentlemen : something like Punch, with a 
 handsomer nose and chin; his eyes were always twinkling and sparkling 
 with good humour, and a smile not one of your unmeaning wooden 
 grins, but a real, merry, hearty, good-tempered smile, was perpetually 
 on his countenance. He was pitched out of his gig once, and knocked 
 head first against a mile-stone. There he lay, stunned, and so cut about 
 the face with some gravel which had been heaped up alongside it, that, to 
 use my uncle's own strong expression, if his mother could have revisited 
 the earth, she wouldn't have known him. Indeed, when I come to 
 think of the matter, gentlemen, I feel pretty sure she wouldn't, for
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 519 
 
 she died when my uncle was two years and seven months old, and T 
 think it 's very likely that even without the gravel, his top boots would 
 have puzzled the good lady not a little, to say nothing of his jolly red 
 face. However, there he lay, and I have heard my uncle say many a 
 time that the man said who picked him up that he was smiling as mer- 
 rily as if he had tumbled out for a treat, and that after they had bled 
 him, the first faint glimmerings of returning animation were, his jump- 
 ing up in bed, bursting out into a loud laugh, kissing the young 
 woman who held the basin, and demanding a mutton chop and a pickled 
 walnut instantly. He was very fond of pickled walnuts, gentlemen. 
 He said he always found that, taken without vinegar, they relished the 
 beer. 
 
 " My uncle's great journey was in the fall of the leaf, at which time 
 he collected debts and took orders in the north : going from London 
 to Edinburgh, from Edinburgh to Glasgow, from Glasgow back to 
 Edinburgh, and thence to London by the smack. You are to under- 
 stand that this second visit to Edinburgh was for his own pleasure. He 
 used to go back for a week, just to look up his old friends ; and what with 
 breakfasting with this one, and lunching with that, and dining with a 
 third, and supping with another, a pretty tight week he used to make 
 of it. I don't know whether any of you, gentlemen, ever partook of a 
 real substantial hospitable Scotch breakfast, and then went out to a 
 slight lunch of a bushel of oysters, a dozen or so of bottled ale, and a 
 noggin or two of whiskey to close up with. If you ever did, you will 
 agree with me that it requires a pretty strong head to go out to dinner 
 and supper afterwards. 
 
 " But, bless your hearts and eyebrows, all this sort of thing was 
 nothing to my uncle. He was so well seasoned that it was mere child's 
 play. I have heard him say that he could see the Dundee people 
 out any day, and walk home afterwards without staggering ; and yet 
 the Dundee people have as strong heads and as strong punch, gentle- 
 men, as you are likely to meet with, between the poles. J have heard 
 of a Glasgow man and a Dundee man drinking against each other for 
 fifteen hours at a sitting. They were both suffocated as nearly as 
 could be ascertained at the same moment, but with this trifling excep- 
 tion, gentlemen, they were not a bit the worse for it. 
 
 " One night, within four-and-t \venty hours of the time when 
 he had settled to take shipping for London, my uncle supped at the 
 house of a very old friend of his, a Baillie Mac something, and four 
 syllables after it, who lived in the old town of Edinburgh. There 
 were the baillie's wife, and the baillie's three daughters, and the 
 baillie's grown-up son, and three or four stout, bushy-eye browed, canty- 
 old Scotch fellows that the baillie had got together to do honour to 
 my uncle, and help to make merry. It was a glorious supper. There 
 was kippered salmon, and Finnan haddocks, and a lamVs head, and a 
 haggis ; a celebrated Scotch dish, gentleman, which my uncle used to say 
 always looked to him, when it came to table, very much like a cupid's 
 stomach; and a great many other things besides, that I forget the 
 names of, but very good things notwithstanding. The lassies were 
 pretty and agreeable ; the baillie's wife one of the best creatures that
 
 520 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 ever lived ; and my uncle in thoroughly good cue : the consequence of 
 which was, that the young ladies tittered and giggled, and the old lady- 
 laughed out loud, and the baillie and the other old fellows roared till 
 they were red in the face, the whole mortal time. I don't quite recol- 
 lect how many tumblers of whiskey toddy each man drank after supper, 
 but this I know, that about one o'clock in the morning, the baillie's 
 grown-up son became insensible while attempting the first verse of 
 * Willie brewed a peck o' maut ; ' and he having been, for half an 
 hour before, the only other man visible above the mahogany, it occurred 
 to my uncle that it was almost time to think about going, especially as 
 drinking had set in at seven o'clock in order that he might get home 
 at a decent hour. But thinking it might not be quite polite to go just 
 then, my uncle voted himself into the chair, mixed another glass, rose 
 to propose his own health, addressed himself in a neat and compli- 
 mentary speech, and drank the toast with great enthusiasm. Still 
 nobody woke ; so my uncle took a little drop more neat this time, to 
 prevent the toddy disagreeing with him, and laying violent hands on 
 his hat sallied forth into the street. 
 
 " It was a wild gusty night when my uncle closed the baillie's door ; 
 and settling his hat firmly on his head to prevent the wind from taking 
 it, thrust his hands into his pockets, and looking upwards, took a short 
 survey of the state of the weather. The clouds were drifting over the 
 moon at their giddiest speed, at one time wholly obscuring her, at 
 another, suffering her to hurst forth in full splendour and shed her light 
 on all the objects around ; anon, driving over her again with increased 
 velocity, and shrouding everything in darkness. ' Really, this won't 
 do,' said my uncle, addressing himself to the weather, as if he felt 
 himself personally offended. ' This is not at all the kind of thing for 
 my voyage. It will not do at any price,' said my uncle, very im- 
 pressively. And having repeated this, several times, he recovered his 
 balance with some difficulty for he was rather giddy with looking up 
 into the sky so long and walked merrily on. 
 
 " The baillie's house was in the Canongate, and my uncle was going 
 to the other end of Leith Walk, rather better than a mile's journey. On 
 either side of him, there shot up against the dark sky, tall, gaunt, 
 straggling houses, with time-stained fronts, and windows that seemed to 
 have shared the lot of eyes in mortals, and to have grown dim 
 and sunken with age. Six, seven, eight stories high were the 
 houses; story piled above story, as children build with cards 
 throwing their dark shadows "over the roughly paved road, and 
 making the night darker. A few oil lamps were scattered, at long 
 distances, but they only served to mark the dirty entrance to some 
 narrow close, or to'show where a common stair communicated, by steep 
 and intricate windings with the various flats above. Glancing at all 
 these things with the air of a man who had seen them too often before, 
 to think them worthy of much notice now, my uncle walked up the 
 middle of the street with a thumb in each waistcoat pocket, indulging 
 from time to time in various snatches of song, chaunted forth with 
 such good will and spirit, that the quiet honest folk started from their 
 first sleep and lay trembling in bed till the sound died away in the
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 521 
 
 distance ; when, satisfying themselves that it was only some drunken 
 ne'er-do-weel finding his way home, they covered themselves up warm 
 and fell asleep again. 
 
 " I am particular in describing how my uncle walked up the middle 
 of the street with his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, gentlemen, 
 because, as he often used to say (and with great reason too) there is 
 nothing at all extraordinary in this story, unless you distinctly under- 
 stand at the beginning, that he was not by any means of a marvellous 
 or romantic turn. 
 
 " Gentlemen, my uncle walked on with his thumbs in his waistcoat 
 pockets, taking the middle of the street to himself, and singing now a 
 verse of a love song, and then a verse of a drinking one ; and when he 
 was tired of both, whistling melodiously, until he reached the North 
 Bridge, which at this point connects the old and new towns of Edin- 
 burgh. Here he stopped for a minute to look at the strange irregular 
 clusters of lights piled one above the other, and twinkling afar off so 
 high in the air that they looked like stars gleaming from the castle 
 walls on the one side and the Calton Hill on the other, as if they 
 illuminated veritable castles in the air, while the old picturesque tou-n 
 slept heavily on in gloom and darkness below ; its palace and chapel of 
 Holyrood, guarded day and night, as a friend of my uncle's used to say, 
 by old Arthur's Seat, towering, surly and dark like some gruff genius, 
 over the ancient city he has watched so long. I say, gentlemen, my 
 uncle stopped here for a minute to look about him ; and then, paying a 
 compliment to the weather which had a little cleared up, though the 
 moon was sinking, walked on again as royally as before, keeping the 
 middle of the road with great dignity, and looking as if he should very 
 much like to meet with somebody who would dispute possession of it 
 with him. There was nobody at all disposed to contest the point, as it 
 happened ; and so on he went, with his thumbs in his waistcoat 
 pockets, as peaceable as a lamb. 
 
 " When my uncle reached the end of Leith Walk, he had to cross a 
 pretty large piece of waste ground which separated him from a short 
 street which he had to turn down to go direct to his lodging. Now in 
 this piece of waste ground there was at that time an inclosure belong- 
 ing to some wheelwright, who contracted with the Post-office for the 
 purchase of old worn-out mail coaches ; and my uncle being very fond 
 of coaches, old, young, or middle-aged, all at once took it into his head 
 to step out of his road for no other purpose than to peep between the 
 palings at these mails, about a dozen of which he remembered to have 
 seen, crowded together in a very forlorn and dismantled state, inside. 
 My uncle was a very enthusiastic, emphatic sort of person, gentlemen; 
 so, finding that he could not obtain a good peep between the palings, 
 he got over them, and setting himself quietly down on an old axletree, 
 began to contemplate the mail coaches with a great deal of gravity. 
 
 " There might be a dozen of them, or there might be more my 
 uncle was never quite certain upon this point, and being a man of very 
 scrupulous veracity about numbers, didn't like to say but there they 
 stood, all huddled together in the most desolate condition imaginable. 
 The doors had been torn from their hinges and removed, the linings had
 
 522 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 been stripped off, only a shred hanging here and there by a rusty nail ; 
 the lamps were gone, the poles had long since vanished, the iron-work 
 was rusty, the paint worn away ; the wind whistled through the chinks 
 in the bare wood- work, and the rain, which had collected on the roofs, 
 fell drop by drop into the insides with a hollow and melancholy sound. 
 They were the decaying skeletons of departed mails, and in that lonely 
 place, at that time of night, they looked chill and dismal. 
 
 " My uncle rested his head upon his hands, and thought of the 
 busy bustling people who had rattled about, years before, in the old 
 coaches, and were now as silent aud changed ; he thought of the 
 numbers of people to whom one of those crazy, mouldering vehicles had 
 borne, night after night for many years and through all weathers, the 
 anxiously expected intelligence, the eagerly looked-for remittance, the 
 promised assurance of health and safety, the sudden announcement of 
 sickness and death. The merchant, the lover, the wife, the widow, the 
 mother, the schoolboy, the very child who tottered to the door at the 
 postman's knock how had they all looked forward to the arrival of the 
 old coach. And where were they all now ! 
 
 " Gentlemen, my uncle used to say that he thought all this at the 
 time, but I rather suspect he learnt it out of some book afterwards, for 
 he distinctly stated that he fell into a kind of doze as he sat on the old 
 axletree looking at the decayed mail coaches, and that he was suddenly- 
 awakened by some deep church-bell striking two. Now, my uncle 
 was never a fast thinker, and if he had thought all these things, I am 
 quite certain it would have taken him till full half-past two o'clock at 
 the very least. I am, therefore, decidedly of opinion, gentlemen, that 
 my uncle fell into the kind of doze without having thought about any- 
 thing at all. 
 
 " Be this as it may, a church bell struck two. My uncle woke, 
 rubbed his eyes, and jumped up in astonishment. 
 
 " In one "instant, after the clock struck two, the whole of this 
 deserted and quiet spot had become a scene of the most extraordinary- 
 life and animation. The mail coach doors were on their hinges, the 
 lining was replaced, the iron-work was as good as new, the paint was 
 restored, the lamps were alight ; cushions and great coats were on every 
 coach box, porters were thrusting parcels into every boot, guards were 
 stowing away letter-bags, hostlers were dashing pails of water against 
 the renovated wheels ; numbers of men were rushing about, fixing poles 
 into every coach, passengers arrived, portmanteaus were handed up, 
 horses were put to, and in short it was perfectly clear that every mail 
 there was to be off directly. Gentlemen, my uncle opened his eyes so 
 Avide at all this, that, to the very last moment of his life, he use.d to 
 wonder how it fell out that he had ever been able to shut 'em again. 
 
 " ' Now then,' said a voice, as my uncle felt a hand on his shoulder, 
 ' You're booked for one inside. You'd better get in.' 
 
 " ' / booked ! ' said my uncle, turning round. 
 
 " 'Yes, certainly.' 
 
 " My uncle, gentlemen, could say nothing, he was so very much 
 astonished. The queerest thing of all, was, that although there was 
 such a crowd of persons, and although fresh faces were pouring in,

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 523 
 
 every moment, there was no telling where they came from ; they 
 seemed to start up in some strange manner from the ground or the 
 air, and to disappear in the same way. When a porter had put his 
 luggage in the coach and received his fare, he turned round and was 
 gone ; and before my uncle had well begun to wonder what had become 
 of him, half-a-dozen fresh ones started up, and staggered along under 
 the weight of parcels which seemed big enough to crush them. The 
 passengers were all dressed so oddly too large, broad-skirted laced 
 coats with great cuffs and no collars ; and wigs, gentlemen, great 
 formal wigs with a tie behind. My uncle could make nothing of it. 
 
 " ' Now, are you going to get in ? ' said the person who had ad- 
 dressed my uncle before. He was dressed as a mail guard, with a wig 
 on his head and most enormous cuffs to his coat, and had got a lantern. 
 in one hand and a huge blunderbuss in the other, which lie was going 
 to stow away in his little arm-chest. ' Are you going to get in, Jack 
 Martin ? ' said the guard, holding the lantern to my uncle's face. 
 
 " ' Hallo,' said iny uncle, falling back a step or two. ' That's 
 familiar ? ' 
 
 " ' It's so on the way-bill,' replied the guard. 
 
 " 'Isn't there a ' Mister' before it?' said my unclefor he felt, 
 gentlemen, that for a guard he didn't know to call him Jack Martin, 
 was a liberty which the Post-office wouldn't have sanctioned if thej- 
 had known it. 
 
 " 'No ; there is not,' rejoined the guard coolly. 
 
 " ' Is the fare paid?' enquired my uncle. 
 
 " ' Of course it is,' rejoined the guard. 
 
 " 'It is, is it?' said my uncle. 'Then here goes which coach?' 
 
 " ' This,' said the guard, pointing to an old-fashioned Edinburgh and 
 London Mail, which had got the steps down, and the door open. 
 ' Stop here are the other passengers. Let them get in first.' 
 
 "As the guard spoke, there all at once appeared, right in front of 
 my uncle, a young gentleman in a powdered wig and a sky blue coat 
 trimmed with silver, made very full and broad in the skirts, which 
 were lined with buckram. Tiggin and Welps were in the printed 
 calico and waistcoat piece line, gentlemen, so my uncle knew all the 
 materials at once. He wore knee breeches and a kind of leggings 
 rolled up over his silk stockings, and shoes with buckles ; he had 
 ruffles at his wrists, a three-cornered hat on his head, and a long taper 
 sword by his side. The flaps of his waistcoat came half way down 
 his thighs, and the ends of his cravat reached to his waist. He stalked 
 gravely to the coach-door, pulled off his hat, and held it out above his 
 head at arm's length, cocking his little finger in the air at the same 
 time, as some affected people do when they take a cup of tea : then 
 drew his feet together, and made a low grave bow, and then put out 
 his left hand. My uncle was just going to step forward, and shake it 
 heartily, when he perceived that these attentions were directed not 
 towards him, but to a young lady, who just then appeared at the foot 
 of the steps, attired in an old-fashioned green velvet dress, with a long 
 waist and stomacher. She had no bonnet on her head, gentlemen, 
 which was muffled in a black silk hood, but she looked round for an
 
 524 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 instant as she prepared to get into the coach, and such a beautiful face 
 as she discovered my uncle had never seen not even iu a pic- 
 ture. She got into the coach, holding up her dress with one hand, 
 and as my uncle always said with a round oath, when he told 
 the story, he wouldn't have believed it possible that legs and feet could 
 have been brought to such a state of perfection unless he had seen them 
 with his own eyes. 
 
 " But in this one glimpse of the beautiful face, my uncle saw that 
 the young lady had cast an imploring look upon him, and that she 
 appeared terrified and distressed. He noticed too, that the young 
 fellow in the powdered wig, notwithstanding his show of gallantry, 
 which was all very fine and grand, clasped her tight by the wrist when 
 she got in, and followed himself immediately afterwards. An uncom- 
 monly ill-looking fellow in a close brown wig, and a plum-coloured 
 suit, wearing a very large sword and boots up to his hips, belonged to 
 the party ; and when he sat himself down next to the young lady, who 
 shrunk into a corner at his approach, my uncle was confirmed in his 
 original impression that something dark and mysterious was going 
 forward, or, as he always said himself, that ' there was a screw loose 
 somewhere.' It's quite surprising how quickly he made up his mind 
 to help the lady at any peril, if she needed help. 
 
 "' Death and lightning!' exclaimed the young gentleman, laying 
 his hand upon his sword, as my uncle entered the coach. 
 
 " 'Blood and thunder !' roared the other gentleman. With this he 
 whipped his sword out, and made a lunge at my uncle without further 
 ceremony. My uncle had no weapon about him, but with great dexterity 
 he snatched the ill-looking gentleman's three-cornered hat from his 
 head, and receiving the point of his sword right through the crown, 
 squeezed the sides together, and held it tight. 
 
 " ' Pink him behind,' cried the ill-looking gentleman to his com- 
 panion, as he struggled to regain his sword. 
 
 " ' He had better not,' cried my uncle, displaying the heel of one of 
 his shoes in a threatening manner. ' I'll kick his brains out if he has 
 any, or fracture his skull if he hasn't.' Exerting all his strength 
 at this moment, my uncle wrenched the ill-looking man's sword from 
 his grasp, and flung it clean out of the coach-window, upon which the 
 younger gentleman vociferated 'Death and lightning!' again, and 
 laid his hand upon the hilt of his sword in a very lierce manner, but 
 didn't draw it. Perhaps, gentlemen, as my uncle used to say, with a 
 smile, perhaps he was afraid of alarming the lady. 
 
 " 'Now gentlemen,' said my uncle, taking his seat deliberately, 'I 
 don't want to have any death with or without lightning in a lady's 
 presence, and we have had quite blood and thundering enough for one 
 journey ; so if you please, we'll sit in our places like quiet insides 
 here, guard, pick up that gentleman's carving knife.' 
 
 " As quickly as my uncle said the words, the guard appeared 
 at the coach-window with the gentleman's sword in his hand. He 
 held up his lantern, and looked earnestly in [my uncle's face as he 
 handed it in, when by its light my uncle saw, to his great surprise, 
 that an immense crowd of mail-coach guards swarmed round the
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 525 
 
 window, every one of whom had his eyes earnestly fixed upon him too. 
 He had never seen such a sea of white faces and red bodies, and earnest 
 eyes, in all his born days. 
 
 " ' This is the strangest sort of thing I ever had any thing to do 
 with,' thought my uncle ' allow me to return you your hat, Sir.' 
 
 " The ill-looking gentleman received his three-cornered hat in 
 silence looked at the hole in the middle with an enquiring air, and 
 finally stuck it on the top of his wig, with a solemnity the effect of 
 which was a trifle impaired by his sneezing violently at the moment, 
 and jerking it off again. 
 
 " 'All right!' cried the guard with the lantern, mounting into his 
 little seat behind. Away they went. My uncle peeped out of the 
 coach-window as they emerged" from the yard, and observed that the 
 other mails, with coachmen, guards, horses, and passengers complete, 
 were driving round and round in circles, at a slow trot of about five 
 miles an hour. My uncle burnt with indignation, gentlemen. As a 
 commercial man, he felt that the mail bags were not to be triHed with, 
 and he resolved to memorialise the Post-office upon the subject, the 
 very instant he reached London. 
 
 " At present, however, his thoughts were occupied with the young 
 lady who sat in the furthest corner of the coach, with her face muffled 
 closely in her hood : the gentleman with the sky blue coat sitting 
 opposite to her, and the other man in the plum-coloured suit, by her 
 side, and both watching her intently. If she so much as rustled the 
 folds of her hood, he could hear the ill-looking man clap his hand upon 
 his sword, and tell by the other's breathing (it was so dark he couldn't 
 see his face) that he was looking as big as if he were going to devour 
 her at a mouthful. This roused my uncle more and more, and he 
 resolved, come what come might, to see the end of it. He had a great 
 admiration for bright eyes, and sweet faces, and pretty legs and feet ; 
 in short he was fond of the whole sex. It runs in our family, gentle- 
 men so am I. 
 
 " Many were the devices which my uncle practised to attract the 
 lady's attention, or at all events, to engage the mysterious gentlemen 
 in conversation. They were all in vain ; the gentlemen wouldn't talk, 
 and the lady didn't dare. He thrust his head out of the coach-window 
 at intervals, and bawled out to know why they didn't go faster. But 
 he called till he was hoarse nobody paid the least attention to him. 
 He leant back in the coach, and thought of the beautiful face, and the 
 feet and legs. This answered better ; it wiled away the time, and kept 
 him from wondering where he was going to, and how it was he found 
 himself in such an odd situation. Not that this would have worried 
 him much any way he was a mighty, free and easy, roving, devil- 
 may-care sort of person, was my uncle, gentlemen. 
 
 "All of a sudden the coach stopped. 'Hallo!' said my uncle. 
 * What's in the wind now?' 
 
 " ' Alight here,' said the guard, letting down the steps. 
 
 " ' Here ! ' cried my uncle. 
 
 " ' Here,' rejoined the guard. 
 
 ** ' I'll do nothing of the sort/ said my uncle.
 
 526 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " ' Very well then stop where you are,' said the guard. 
 
 " ' I will,' said my uncle. 
 
 " ' Do,' said the guard. 
 
 " The other passengers had regarded this colloquy with great atten- 
 tion ; and finding that my uncle was determined not to alight, the 
 younger man squeezed past him, to hand the lady out. At this moment 
 the ill-looking man was inspecting the hole in the crown of his three- 
 cornered hat. As the young lady brushed past, she dropped one of her 
 gloves into my uncle's hand, and softly whispered with her lips, so close 
 to his face that he felt her warm breath on his nose, the single word, 
 ' Help ! ' Gentlemen, my uncle leaped out of the coach at once with 
 such violence that it rocked on the springs again. 
 
 " ' Oh ! you've thought better of it, have you ? ' said the guard, when 
 he saw my uncle standing on the ground. 
 
 " My uncle looked at the guard for a few seconds, in some doubt 
 whether it wouldn't be better to wrench his blunderbuss from him, fire 
 it in the face of the man with the big sword, knock the rest of the 
 company over the head with the stock, snatch up the young lady, and 
 go off in the smoke. On second thoughts, however, he abandoned this 
 plan as being a shade too melo-dramatic in the execution, and 
 followed the t\vo mysterious men, who, keeping the lady between them, 
 were now entering an old house in front of which the coach had 
 stopped. They turned into the passage, and my uncle followed. 
 
 " Of all the ruinous and desolate places my uncle had ever beheld, 
 this was the most so. It looked as if it had once been a large house of 
 entertainment, but the roof had fallen in, in many places, and the 
 stairs were steep, rugged, and broken. There was a huge fire-place in 
 the room into which they walked, and the chimney was blackened with 
 smoke, but no warm blaze lighted it up now. The white feathery 
 dust of burnt wood was still strewed over the hearth, but the stove 
 was cold, and all was dark and gloomy. 
 
 " ' Well,' said my uncle as he looked about him, ' A mail travelling 
 at the rate of six miles and a half an hour, and stopping for an inde- 
 finite time at such a hole as this, is rather an irregular sort of proceed- 
 ing I fancy. This shall be made known ; I'll write to the papers.' 
 
 " My uncle said this in a pretty loud voice, and in an opc-n unre- 
 served sort of manner, with the view of engaging the two strangers in 
 conversation if he could. But neither of them took any more notice 
 of him than whispering to each other, and scowling at him as they did 
 so. The lady was at the further end of the room, and once she ven- 
 tured to wave her hand, as if beseeching my uncle's assistance. 
 
 " At length the two strangers advanced a little, and the conversation 
 began in earnest. 
 
 " ' You don't know this is a private room ; I suppose, fellow,' said the 
 gentleman in sky-blue. 
 
 " ' No I do not, fellow,' rejoined my uncle. ' Only if this is a private 
 room specially ordered for the occasion, I should think the public room 
 must be a very comfortable one;' with this, my uncle sat himself 
 down in a high- backed chair and took such an accurate measure of the 
 gentleman with his eyes, that Tiggin and WeJps could have supplied
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 527 
 
 him with printed calico for a suit, and not an inch too much or too 
 little, from that estimate alone. 
 
 "'Quit this room,' said both the men together, grasping their 
 swords. 
 
 " 'Eh?' said my uncle, not at all appearing to comprehend their 
 meaning. 
 
 " ' Quit the room, or you are a dead man,' said the ill-looking fellow 
 with the large sword, drawing it at the same time and flourishing it in 
 the air. 
 
 " ' Down with him !' said the gentleman in sky-blue, drawing his 
 sword also, and falling back two or three yards. ' Down with him !' 
 The lady gave a loud scream. 
 
 " Now, my uncle was always remarkable for great boldness and 
 great presence of mind. All the time that he had appeared so indif- 
 ferent to what was going on, he had been looking slyly about for some 
 missile or weapon of defence, and at the very instant when the swords 
 were drawn, he espied standing in the chimney corner, an old basket- 
 hiked rapier in a rusty scabbard. At one bound, my uncle caught it 
 in his hand, drew it, flourished it gallantly above his head, called aloud 
 to the lady to keep out of the way, hurled the chair at the man in sky- 
 blue, and the scabbard at the man in plum-colour, and taking advan- 
 tage of the confusion, fell upon them both, pell-mell. 
 
 " Gentlemen, there is an old story none the worse for being true 
 regarding a fine young Irish gentleman, who being asked if he could 
 play the fiddle, replied he had no doubt he could, but he couldn't 
 exactly say for certain, because he had never tried. This is not 
 inapplicable to my uncle and his fencing. He had never had a sword 
 in his hand before, except once when he played Richard the Third at 
 a private theatre, upon which occasion it was arranged with Richmond 
 that he was to be run through from behind without shewing fight 
 at all ; but here he was, cutting and slashing with two experienced 
 swordsmen, thrusting, and guarding, and poking, and slicing, and 
 acquitting himself in the most manful and dexterous manner possible, 
 although up to that time he had never been aware that he had the 
 least notion of the science. It only shows how true the old saying is, 
 that a man never know s what he can do, till he tries, gentlemen. 
 
 " The noise of the combat was terrific, each of the three combatants 
 swearing like troopers, and their swords clashing with as much noise 
 as if all the knives and steels in Newport market were rattling 
 together at the same time. When it was at its very height, the lady, 
 to encourage my uncle most probably, withdrew her hood entirely 
 from her face, and disclosed a countenance of such dazzling beauty, 
 that he would have fought against fifty men to win one smile from it 
 and die. He had done wonders before, but now he began to powder 
 away like a raving mad giant. 
 
 "At this very moment, the gentleman in sky-blue turning round, 
 and seeing the young lady with her face uncovered, vented an excla- 
 mation of rage and jealousy ; and turning his weapon against her beau- 
 tiful bosom, pointed a thrust at her heart which caused my uncle to 
 utter a cry of apprehension that made the building ring. The lady
 
 528 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 stepped lightly aside, and snatching the young man's sword from his 
 hand before he had recovered his balance, drove him to the wall, and 
 running it through him and the pannelling up to the very hilt, pinned 
 him there hard and fast. It was a splendid example. My uncle, with a 
 loud shout of triumph and a strength that was irresistible, made his 
 adversary retreat in the same direction, and plunging the old rapier 
 into the very centre of a large red flower in the pattern of his waist- 
 coat, nailed him beside his friend ; there they both stood, gentlemen, 
 jerking their arms and legs about in agony, like the toy-shop figures 
 that are moved by a piece of packthread. My uncle always said after- 
 wards, that this was one of the surest means he knew of, for disposing 
 of an enemy ; but it was liable to one objection on the ground of expense, 
 inasmuch as it involved the loss of a sword for every man disabled. 
 
 " ' The mail, the mail !' cried the lady, running up to my uncle and 
 throwing her beautiful arms round his neck ; ' we may yet escape.' 
 
 " * May ! ' said my uncle ; ' why, my dear, there's nobody else to 
 kill, is there?' My uncle was rather disappointed, gentlemen, for he 
 thought a little quiet bit of love-making would be agreeable after the 
 slaughtering, if it were only to change the subject. 
 
 " ' We have not an instant to lose here,' said the young lady. ' He 
 (pointing to the young gentleman in sky blue) is the only son of the 
 powerful Marquess of Filletoville.' 
 
 " ' Well then, my dear, I'm afraid he'll never come to the title,' said 
 my uncle, looking coolly at the young gentleman as he stood fixed up 
 against the wall, in the cockchatfer fashion I have described. ' You 
 have cut off the entail, my love.' 
 
 " ' I have been torn from my home and friends by these villains,' 
 said the young lady, her features glowing with indignation. 'That 
 wretch would have married me by violence in another hour.' 
 
 "'Confound his impudence!' said my uncle, bestowing a rery 
 contemptuous look on the dying heir of Filletoville. 
 
 " ' As you may guess from what I have seen,' said the young lady, 
 ' the party are prepared to murder me if you appeal to any one for 
 ass : stance. If their accomplices find us here, we are lost. Two minutes 
 hence may be too late. The mail !' and with these words, over- 
 powered by her feelings and the exertion of sticking the young Mar- 
 quess of Filletoville, she sunk into my uncle's arms. My uncle caught 
 her up, and bore her to the house-door. There stood the mail with 
 four long-tailed flowing-maned black horses, ready harnessed ; but no 
 coachman, no guard, no ostler even, at the horses' heads. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I hope I do no injustice to my uncle's memory, when 
 I express my opinion, that although he was a bachelor, he had held 
 some ladies in his arms before this time ; I believe indeed, that he had 
 rather a habit of kissing barmaids and I know, that in one or two 
 instances, he had been seen by credible witnesses, to hug a landlady in 
 a very perceptible manner. 1 mention the circumstance, to show what 
 a very uncommon fort of person this beautiful young lady must have 
 been to have affected my uncle in the way she did ; he used to say, 
 that us her long dark hair trailed over his arm, and her beautiful dark 
 eyes fixed themselves upon his face when she recovered, he felt so strange
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 529 
 
 and nervous, that his legs trembled beneath him. But who can look 
 in a sweet soft pair of dark eyes, without feeling queer ? I can't, 
 gentlemen. I am afraid to look at some eyes I know, and that's the 
 truth of it. 
 
 " ' You will never leave me/ murmured the young lady. 
 
 " 'Never,' said my uncle. And he meant it too. 
 
 " ' My dear preserver ! ' exclaimed the young lady. ' My dear, kind 
 brave preserver !' 
 
 ' ' Don't,' said my uncle, interrupting her. 
 
 " * Why ?' enquired the young lady. 
 
 " * Because your mouth looks so beautiful when you speak,' rejoined 
 my uncle, ' that I am afraid I shall be rude enough to kiss it.' 
 
 " The young lady put up her hand as if to caution my uncle not to 
 do so, and said no, she didn't say anything she smiled. When you 
 are looking at a pair of the most delicious lips in the world, and see 
 them gently break into a roguish smile if you are very near them, and 
 nobody else by you cannot better testify your admiration of their 
 beautiful form and colour than by kissing them at once. My uncle 
 did so, and I honour him for it. 
 
 " ' Hark ! ' cried the young lady, starting. ' The noise of wheels and 
 horses.' 
 
 " ' So it is,' said my uncle, listening. He had a good ear for wheels 
 and the trampling of hoofs, but there appeared to be so many horses 
 and carriages rattling towards them at a distance, that it was impossi- 
 ble to form a guess at their number. The sound was like that of fifty 
 breaks, with six blood cattle in each. 
 
 " ' We are pursued ! ' cried the young lady, clasping her hands. 
 ' We are pursued. I have no hope but in you.' 
 
 " There was such an expression of terror in her beautiful face, that 
 my uncle made up his mind at once. He lifted her into the coach, told 
 her not to be frightened, pressed his lips to hers once more, and then 
 advising her to draw up the window to keep the cold air out, mounted 
 to the box. 
 
 " ' Stay, love,' cried the young lady. 
 
 " 'What's the matter ?' said my uncle, from the coach-box. 
 " ' I want to speak to you,' said the young lady ; only a word- 
 only one word, dearest.' 
 
 " 'Must I get down?' enquired my uncle. The lady made no 
 answer, but she smiled again. Such a smile, gentlemen .'it beat the 
 other one all to nothing. My uncle descended from his perch iu a 
 twinkling. 
 
 " 'What is it, my dear?' said my uncle, looking in at the coach 
 window. The lady happened to bend forward at the same time, and 
 my uncle thought she looked more beautiful than she had done yet. 
 He was very close to her just then, gentlemen, so he really ought to 
 know. 
 
 " ' What is it, my dear ? ' said my uncle. 
 
 " ' Will you never love any one but me never marry any one beside ?' 
 said the young lady. 
 
 " My uncle swore a great oath that he never would marry any body
 
 530 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 else, and the young lady drew in her head, and pulled up the window. 
 He jumped upon the box, squared his elbows, adjusted the ribands, 
 seized the whip which lay on the roof, gave one flick to the off leader, 
 and away went the four" long-tailed, flowing-maned black horses, at 
 fifteen good English miles an hour, with the old mail coach behind 
 them whew ! how they tore along ! 
 
 " But the noise behind grew louder. The faster went the old mail, 
 the faster came the pursuers men, horses, dogs, were leagued in the 
 pursuit. The noise was frightful, but above all rose the voice of the 
 young lady, urging my uncle on, and shrieking ' faster ! faster ! ' 
 
 *' They whirled past the dark trees as feathers would be swept 
 before a hurricane. Houses, gates, churches, haystacks, objects of 
 every kind they shot by, with a velocity and noise like roaring waters 
 suddenly let loose. But still the noise of pursuit grew louder, and 
 still my uncle could hear the young lady wildly screaming ' faster ! 
 faster P 
 
 " My uncle plied whip and rein, and the horses flew onward till they 
 were white with foam ; and yet the noise behind increased, and yet 
 the young lady cried 'faster! faster!' My uncle gave aloud stamp 
 upon the boot in the energy of the moment, and found that it was 
 grey morning, and he was sitting in the wheelwright's yard on the box 
 of an old Edinburgh mail, shivering with the cold and wet, and stamp- 
 ing his feet to warm them ! He got down, and looked eagerly inside 
 for the beautiful young lady alas ! there was neither door nor seat 
 to the coach it was a mere shell. 
 
 " Of course my uncle knew very well that there was some mystery 
 in the matter, and that everything had passed exactly as he used to 
 relate it. He remained staunch to the great oath he had sworn to the 
 beautiful young lady : refusing several eligible landladies on her account, 
 and died a bachelor at last. He always said what a curious thing it 
 was that he should have found out, by such a mere accident as his 
 clambering over the palings, that the ghosts of mail-coaches and horses, 
 guards, coachmen, and passengers, were in the habit of making journeys 
 regularly every night ; he used to add that he believed he was the only 
 living person who had ever been taken as a passenger on one of these 
 excursions ; and I think he was right, gentlemen at least I never 
 heard of any other." 
 
 " I wonder what these ghosts of mail-coaches carry in their bags," 
 Baid the landlord, who had listened to the whole story with profound 
 attention. 
 
 " The dead letters of course," said the Bagman. 
 
 " Oh, ah to be sure," rejoined the landlord. " I never thought 
 of that."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 531 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 HOW MR. PICKWICK SPED UPON HIS MISSION, AND HOW HE WAS 
 REINFORCED IN THE OUTSET BY A MOST UNEXPECTED AUXILIARY. 
 
 THE horses were put to, punctually at a quarter before nine next 
 morning, and Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller having each taken his 
 seat, the one inside and the other out, the postilion was duly directed 
 to repair in the first instance to Mr. Bob Sawyer's house, for the purpose 
 of taking up Mr. Benjamin Allen. 
 
 It was with feelings of no small astonishment, when the carriage 
 drew up before the door with the red lamp, and the very legible inscrip- 
 tion of " Sawyer, late Nockemorf," that Mr. Pickwick saw, on popping 
 his head out of the coach-window, the boy in the grey livery very 
 busily employed in putting up the shutters : the which being an unusual 
 and rather un-business-like proceeding at that hour of the morning, at 
 once suggested to his mind two inferences the one, that some good 
 friend and patient of Mr. Bob Sawyer's was dead ; the other, that Mr. 
 Bob Sawyer himself was bankrupt. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said Mr. Pickwick to the boy. 
 
 " Nothing's the matter, Sir," replied the boy, expanding his mouth 
 to the whole breadth of his countenance. 
 
 " All right, all right, 1 ' cried Bob Sawyer, suddenly appearing at the 
 door, with a small leathern knapsack, limp and dirty, in one hand, and a 
 rough coat and shawl thrown over the other arm. " I'm going, old 
 fellow." 
 
 " You ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Yes," replied Bob Sawyer, "and a regular expedition we'll 
 make of it. Here, Sam look out." Thus briefly bespeaking Mr. 
 Weller's attention, Mr. Bob Sawyer jerked the leathern knapsack into 
 the dickey, where it was immediately stowed away under the seat, by 
 Sam, who regarded the proceeding with great admiration. This done, 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer, with the assistance of the boy, forcibly worked him- 
 self into the rough coat, which was a few sizes too small for him, and 
 then advancing to the coach window, thrust in his head, and laughed 
 boisterously. 
 
 " What a start it is isn't it ? " said Bob, wiping the tears out of his 
 eyes, with one of the cuffs of the rough coat. 
 
 " My dear Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, with some embarrassment, " I 
 had no idea of your accompanying us." 
 
 "No, that's just the very thing," replied Bob, seizing Mr. Pickwick 
 by the lappel of his coat. " That's the joke." 
 " ' Oh, that's the joke, is it ?" said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Of course," replied Bob. " It's the whole point of the thing, you
 
 OOZ POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 know that, and leaving the business to take care of itself, as it seems 
 to have made up its mind not to take care of me." With this explana- 
 tion of the phenomenon of the shutters, Mr. Bob Sawyer pointed to the 
 shop, and relapsed into an ecstacy of mirth. 
 
 " Bless me, you are surely not mad enough to think of leaving your 
 patients without anybody to attend them !'' remonstrated Mr. Pickwick 
 in a very serious tone. 
 
 " Why not?" asked Bob, in reply. " I shall save by it, you know. 
 None of them ever pay. Besides," said Bob, lowering his voice to a 
 confidential whisper, " they will be all the better for it, for being 
 nearly out of drugs and not able to increase my account just now, I 
 should have been obliged to give them calomel all round, and it would 
 have been certain to have disagreed with some of them so it's all for 
 the best." 
 
 There was a philosophy and a strength of reasoning about this reply, 
 which Mr. Pickwick was not prepared for. He paused a few moments, 
 and added, less firmly than before 
 
 " But this chaise, my young friend this chaise will only hold two; 
 and I am pledged to Mr. Allen." 
 
 " Don't think of me for a minute," replied Bob. " I've arranged it 
 all ; Sam and I will share the dickey between us. Look here. This 
 little bill is to be wafered on the shop-door : ' Sawyer, late Nockemorf. 
 Enquire of Mrs. Cripps over the way.' Mrs. Cripps is my boy's 
 mother. ' Mr. Sawyer 's very sorry/ says Mrs. Cripps, ' couldn't help it 
 fetched away early this morning to "a consultation of the very first 
 surgeons in the country couldn't do without him would have him at 
 any price tremendous operation.' The fact is," said Bob, in con- 
 clusion " It'll do me more good than otherwise, I expect. If it gets 
 into one of the local papers, it will be the making of me. Here's Ben 
 now then, jump in." 
 
 With these hurried words, Mr. Bob Sawyer pushed the postboy on 
 one side, jerked his friend into the vehicle, slammed the door; put up 
 the steps, wafered the bill on the street-door, locked it, put the key in 
 his pocket, jumped into the dickey, gave the word for starting ; and 
 did the whole with such extraordinary precipitation, that before Mr. 
 Pickwick had well begun to consider whether Mr. Bob Sawyer ought 
 to go or not, they were rolling away with Mr. Bob Sawyer, thoroughly 
 established as part and parcel of the equipage. 
 
 So long as their progress was confined to the streets of Bristol, the 
 facetious Bob kept his professional green spectacles on, and conducted 
 himself with becoming steadiness and gravity of demeanour, merely 
 giving utterance to divers verbal witticisms for the exclusive behoof and 
 entertainment of Mr. Samuel Weller, but when they emerged upon the 
 open road, he threw off his green spectacles and his gravity together, 
 and performed a great variety of practical jokes, which were rather 
 calculated perhaps to attract the attention of the passers-by, and to 
 render the carriage and those it contained, objects of more than ordinary 
 curiosity ; the least conspicuous among these feats being a most 
 vociferous imitation of a key- bugle, and the ostentatious display of a 
 crimson silk pocket-handkerchief attached to a walking-stick, which
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 5J3 
 
 was occasionally waved in the air with various gestures indicative of 
 supremacy and defiance. 
 
 " I wonder," said Mr. Pickwick, stopping in the midst of a most 
 sedate conversation with Ben Allen, bearing reference to the numerous 
 good qualities of Mr. Winkle and his sister " I wonder what all the 
 people we pass, can see in us to make them stare so.'' 
 
 " It's a neat turn-out," replied Ben Allen, with something of pride 
 in his tone. " They're not used to see this sort of thing every day, I 
 dare say." 
 
 " Possibly," replied Mr. Pickwick. " It may be so. Perhaps it is." 
 Mr. Pickwick might very probably have reasoned himself into the 
 belief that it really was, had he not, just then happening to look out 
 of the coach window, observed that the looks of the passengers betokened 
 anything but respectful astonishment, and that various telegraphic 
 communications appeared to be passing between them and some persons 
 outside the vehicle, whereupon it all at once occurred to him that these 
 demonstrations might be, in some remote degree, referable to the 
 humorous deportment of Mr. Robert Sawyer. 
 
 " I hope," said Mr. Pickwick, " that our volatile friend is committing 
 no absurdities in that dickey behind." 
 
 " Oh dear, no," replied Ben Allen. " Except when he's elevated, 
 Bob's the quietest creature breathing." 
 
 Here a prolonged imitation of a key-bugle broke upon the ear, suc- 
 ceeded by cheers and screams, all of which evidently proceeded from 
 the throat and lungs of the quietest creature breathing, or in plainer 
 designation, of Mr. Bob Sawyer himself. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Ben Allen looked expressively at each other, 
 and the former gentleman taking off his hat, and leaning out of the 
 coach window till nearly the whole of his waistcoat was outside it, was 
 at length enabled to catch a glimpse of his facetious friend. 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer was seated, not in the dickey, but on the roof of the 
 chaise, with his legs as far asunder as they would conveniently go, 
 wearing Mr. Samuel Weller's hat on one side of his head, and bearing in 
 one hand a most enormous sandwich, while in the other he supported a 
 goodly-sized case bottle, to both of which he applied himself with 
 intense relish, varying the monotony of the occupation by an occasional 
 howl, or the interchange of some lively badinage with any passing 
 stranger. The crimson flag was carefully tied in an erect position to 
 the rail of the dickey, and Mr. Samuel Weller, decorated with Bob 
 Sawyer's hat, was se'ated in the centre thereof, discussing a twin 
 sandwich with an animated countenance, the expression of which 
 betokened his entire and perfect approval of the whole arrangement. 
 
 This was enough to irritate a gentleman with Mr. Pickwick's sense 
 of propriety, but it was not the whole extent of the aggravation, for a 
 stage-coach full, inside and out, was meeting them at the moment, and 
 the astonishment of the passengers was very palpably evinced. The 
 congratulations of an Irish family, too, who were keeping up with the 
 chaise, and begging all the time, were of rather a boisterous descrip- 
 tion ; especially those of its male head, who appeared to consider the 
 pp2
 
 534 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 display as part and parcel of some political, or other procession of 
 triumph. 
 
 " Mr. Sawyer," cried Mr. Pickwick, in a state of great excitement. 
 " Mr. Sawyer, Sir ! " 
 
 " Hallo ! " responded that gentleman, looking over the side of the 
 chaise with all the coolness in life. 
 
 " Are you mad, Sir ? " demanded Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," replied Bob, " only cheerful." 
 
 "Cheerful, Sir!" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. "Take down that 
 scandalous red handkerchief. I ' beg I insist, Sir. Sam, take it 
 down." 
 
 Before Sam could interpose, Mr. Bob Sawyer gracefully struck his 
 colours, and having put them in his pocket, nodded in a courteous 
 manner to Mr. Pickwick, wiped the mouth of the case-bottle, and 
 applied it to his own ; thereby informing him, without any unnecessary 
 waste of words, that he devoted that draught to wishing him all manner 
 of happiness and prosperity. Having done this, Bob replaced the 
 cork witli great care, and looking benignantly down on Mr. Pickwick, 
 took a large bite out of the sandwich, and smiled. 
 
 "Come," said Mr. Pickwick, whose momentary anger was not quite 
 proof against Bob's immoveable self possession, ' ' pray let us have no 
 more of this absurdity, Sir." 
 
 ** No, no," replied Bob, once more exchanging hats with Mr. Wel- 
 ler ; " I didn't mean to do it, only I got so enlivened with the ride that 
 I couldn't help it." 
 
 " Think of the look of the thing," expostulated Mr. Pickwick ; 
 "have some regard to appearances." 
 
 "Oh, certainly,' 1 said Bob, "it's not the sort of thing at all. All 
 over, governor." 
 
 Satisfied with this assurance, Mr. Pickwick once more drew his head 
 into the chaise and pulled up the glass ; but he had scarcely resumed 
 the conversation which Mr. Bob Sawyer had interrupted, when he was 
 somewhat startled by the apparition of a small dark body, of an oblong 
 form, on the outside of the window, which gave sundry taps against it, 
 as if impatient of admission. 
 
 " What's this ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "It looks like a case-bottle;" remarked Ben Allen, eyeing the ob- 
 ject in question through his spectacles with some interest ; " I rather 
 think it belongs to Bob." 
 
 The impression was perfectly accurate, for Mr. Bob Sawyer having 
 attached the case-bottle to the "end of the walking-stick, was battering 
 the xvindow with it, in token of his wish that his friends inside would 
 partake of its contents, in all good fellowship and harmony. 
 
 " What's to be done ? " said Mr. Pickwick, looking at the bottle. 
 " This proceeding is more absurd than the other." 
 
 " I think it would be best to take it in," replied Mr. Ben Allen ; 
 " it would serve him right to take it in and keep it, wouldn't it ? *' 
 
 "It would," said Mr. Pickwick: "shall I?" 
 
 " I think it the most proper course we could possibly adopt," replied 
 Ben.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 535 
 
 This advice quite coinciding with his own opinion, Mr. Pickwick 
 gently let down the window and disengaged the bottle from the stick ; 
 upon 'which the latter was drawn up, and Mr. Bob Sawyer was heard 
 to laugh heartily. 
 
 " What a merry dog it is," said Mr. Pickwick, looking round at his 
 companion with the bottle in his hand. 
 
 " He is," said Mr. Allen. 
 
 <f You cannot possibly be angry with him," remarked Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Quite out of the question," observed Benjamin Allen. 
 
 During this short interchange of sentiments, Mr. Pickwick had, in 
 an abstracted mood, uncorked the bottle. 
 
 " What is it?" enquired Ben Allen, carelessly. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, with equal carelessness. 
 " It smells, I think, like milk punch." 
 
 " Oh, indeed !" said Ben. 
 
 "I think so," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, very properly guarding him- 
 self against the possibility of stating an untruth : " mind, I could not 
 undertake to say for certain, without tasting it." 
 
 " You had better do so," said Ben ; " we may as well know what it 
 is." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " replied Mr. Pickwick. " Well, if you are curi- 
 ous to know, of course I have no objection." 
 
 Ever willing to sacrifice his own feelings to the wishes of his friend, 
 Mr. Pickwick at once took a pretty long taste. 
 
 " What is it ? '' enquired Ben Allen, interrupting him with some 
 impatience. 
 
 " Curious," said Mr. Pickwick, smacking his lips, " I hardly know, 
 now. Oh, yes," said Mr. Pickwick, after a second taste, " it is punch." 
 
 Mr. Ben Allen looked at Mr. Pickwick ; Mr. Pickwick looked at 
 Mr. Ben Allen. Mr. Ben Allen smiled ; Mr. Pickwick did not. 
 
 " It would serve him right," said the last-named gentleman with 
 some severity, " it would serve him right to drink it every drop." 
 
 " The very thing that occurred to me," said Ben Allen". 
 
 " Is it indeed ! '' rejoined Mr. Pickwick. " Then here's his health." 
 With these words, that excellent person took a most energetic pull at 
 the bottle, and handed it to Ben Allen, who was not slow to imitate 
 his example. The smiles became mutual, and the milk-punch was 
 gradually and cheerfully disposed of. 
 
 "After all," said Mr. Pickwick, as he drained the last drop, "his 
 pranks are really very amusing very entertaining indeed." 
 
 " You may say that," rejoined Mr. Ben Allen. And in proof of 
 Bob Sawyer's being one of the funniest fellows alive, he proceeded to 
 entertain Mr. Pickwick with a long and circumstantial account how 
 that gentleman once drank himself into a fever and got his head shaved ; 
 the relation of which pleasant and agreeable history was only stopped 
 by the stoppage of the chaise at the Bell at Berkeley Heath, to change 
 horses. 
 
 "I say, we're going to dine here, aren't we?" said Bob, looking in 
 at the window.
 
 D3b POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 "Dine!" said Mr. Pickwick. "Why, we have only come nineteen 
 miles, and have got eighty-seven and a half to go." 
 
 " Just the reason why we should take something to enable us to 
 bear up against the fatigue," remonstrated Mr. Bob Sawyer. 
 
 "Oh, it's quite impossible to dine at half-past eleven o'clock in the 
 day," replied Mr. Pickwick, looking at his watch. 
 
 " So it is," rejoined Bob, " lunch is the very thing. Hallo, you Sir ! 
 Lunch for three directly ; and keep the horses back for a quarter of an 
 hour. Tell them to put every thing they have got cold, on the table, 
 and some bottled ale, and let us taste your very best Madeira." 
 Issuing these orders with monstrous importance and bustle, Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer at once hurried into the house to superintend the arrange- 
 ments ; in less than five minutes he returned and declared them to be 
 excellent. 
 
 The quality of the lunch fully justified the eulogium which Bob had 
 pronounced, and very great justice was done to it, not only by that 
 gentleman, but Mr. Ben Allen and Mr. Pickwick also. Under the 
 auspices of the three, the bottled ale and the Madeira were promptly 
 disposed of; and when (the horses being once more put to) they re- 
 sumed their seats, with the case-bottle full of the best substitute for 
 milk-punch that could be procured on so short a notice, the key-bugle 
 sounded and the red flag waved without the slightest opposition on 
 Mr. Pickwick's part. 
 
 At the Hop Pole at Tewkesbury they stopped to dine ; upon which 
 occasion there was more bottled ale, with some more Madeira, and some 
 Port besides ; and here the case-bottle was replenished for the fourth 
 time. Under the influence of these combined stimulants, Mr. Pick- 
 wick and Mr. Ben Allen fell fast asleep for thirty miles, while Bob 
 and Mr. Weller sang duets in the dickey. 
 
 It was quite dark when Mr. Pickwick roused himself sufficiently to 
 look out of the window. The straggling cottages by the road-side, 
 the dingy hue of every object visible, the murky atmosphere, the paths 
 of cinders and brick dust, the deep red glow of furnace fires in the dis- 
 tance, the volumes of dense smoke issuing heavily forth from high 
 toppling chimneys, blackening and obscuring every thing around ; the 
 glare of distant lights, the ponderous waggons which toiled along the 
 road, laden with clashing rods of iron, or piled with heavy goods all 
 betokened their rapid approach to the great working town of Birming- 
 ham. 
 
 As they rattled through the narrow thoroughfares leading to the 
 heart of the turmoil, the sights and sounds of earnest occupation struck 
 more forcibly on the senses. The streets were thronged with work- 
 ing-people. " The hum of labour resounded from every house ; lights 
 gleamed from the long casement windows in the attic stories, and the 
 whirl of wheels and noise of machinery shook the trembling walls. 
 The fires, whose lurid sullen light had been visible for miles, blazed 
 fiercely up in the great works and factories of the town. The din of 
 hammers, the rushing of steam, aud the dead heavy clanking of the 
 engines, was the harsh music which arose from every quarter.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 537 
 
 The postboy was driving briskly through the open streets and past 
 the handsome and well-lighted shops which intervene between the out- 
 skirts of the town and the old Royal Hotel, before Mr. Pickwick had 
 begun to consider the very difficult and delicate nature of the commis- 
 sion which had carried him thither. 
 
 The delicate nature of this commission, and the difficulty of 
 executing it in a satisfactory manner, were by no means lessened by 
 the voluntary companionship of Mr. Bob Sawyer : truth to tell, Mr. 
 Pickwick felt that his presence on the occasion, however considerate 
 and gratifying, was by no means an honour he would willingly have 
 sought ; in fact he would cheerfully have given a reasonable sum of 
 money to have had Mr. Bob Sawyer removed to any place of not less 
 than fifty miles' distance without delay. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had never held any personal communication with 
 Mr. Winkle, Senior, although he had once or twice corresponded 
 with him by letter, and returned satisfactory answers to his enquiries 
 concerning "the moral character and behaviour of his son ; he felt 
 nervously sensible that to wait upon him for the first time attended 
 by Bob Sawyer and Ben Allen, both slightly fuddled, was not the 
 most ingenious and likely means that could have been hit upon to 
 prepossess him in his favour. 
 
 " However," said Mr. Pickwick, endeavouring to re-assure himself, 
 " I must do the best [ can : I must see him to-night, for I faithfully 
 promised to do so ; and if they persist in accompanying me, I must 
 make the interview as brief as possible, and be content to hope that, 
 for their own sakes, they will not expose themselves." 
 
 As he comforted himself with these reflections, the chaise stopped at 
 the door of the Old Royal. Ben Allen having been partially awakened 
 from a stupendous sleep, and dragged out by the collar by Mr. Samuel 
 Weller, Mr. Pickwick was enabled to alight. They were shown to a 
 comfortable apartment, and Mr. Pickwick at once propounded a 
 question to the waiter concerning the whereabout of Mr. Winkle's 
 residence. 
 
 "Close by, Sir," said the waiter, "not above five hundred yards, 
 Sir. Mr. Winkle is a wharfinger, Sir, at the canal, Sir. Private 
 residence is not oh dear no, Sir, not five hundred yards, Sir." Here 
 the waiter blew a candle out and made a feint of lighting it again, in 
 order to afford Mr. Pickwick an opportunity of asking any further 
 questions, if he felt so disposed. 
 
 " Take anything now, Sir ? " said the waiter, lighting the candle 
 in desperation at Mr. Pickwick's silence. " Tea or coffee, Sir ? 
 dinner, Sir ? " 
 
 *' Nothing now." 
 
 " Very good, Sir. Like to order supper, Sir ? " 
 
 " Not just now." 
 
 " Very good, Sir." Here he walked softly to the door, and then 
 stopping short, turned round and said with great suavity 
 
 " Shall I send the chambermaid, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " You may if you please," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " If you please, Sir."
 
 030 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS 6F 
 
 " And bring some soda water," said Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " Soda water, Sir ? Yes, Sir." And with his mind apparently 
 relieved from an overwhelming weight, by having at last got an order 
 for something, the waiter imperceptibly melted away. Waiters never 
 walk or run. They have a peculiar and mysterious power of skimming 
 out of rooms, which other mortals possess not. 
 
 Some slight symptoms of vitality having been awakened in Mr. 
 Ben Allen by the soda water, he suffered himself to be prevailed 
 upon to wash his face and hands, and to submit to be brushed by Sam. 
 Mr. Pickwick and Bob Sawyer having also repaired the disorder 
 which the journey had made in their apparel, the three started forth, 
 arm in arm, to Mr. Winkle's ; Bob Sawyer impregnating the atmo- 
 sphere with tobacco smoke as he walked along. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile off, in a quiet, substantial-looking street, 
 stood an old red-brick house with three steps before the door, and a 
 brass plate upon it, bearing in fat Roman capitals the words, " Mr. 
 Winkle." The steps were very white, and the bricks were very red, 
 and the house was very clean ; and here stood Mr. Pickwick, Mr. 
 Benjamin Allen, and Mr. Bob Sawyer, as the clock struck ten. 
 
 A smart servant girl answered the knock, and started on beholding 
 the three strangers. 
 
 " Is Mr. Winkle at home, my dear ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " He is just going to supper, Sir," replied the girl. 
 
 " Give him that card if you please," rejoined Mr. Pickwick. "Say 
 I am sorry to trouble him at so late an hour ; but I am anxious to see 
 him to-night, and have only just arrived." 
 
 The girl looked timidly at Mr. Bob Sawyer, who was expressing 
 his admiration of her personal charms by a variety of wonderful 
 grimaces, and casting an eye at the hats and great-coats which hung 
 in the passage, called another girl to mind the door while she went up 
 stairs. The sentinel was speedily relieved, for the girl returned 
 immediately, and begging pardon of the gentlemen for leaving them 
 in the street, ushered them into a floor-clothed back parlour, half 
 office and half dressing room, in which the principal useful and 
 ornamental articles of furniture were a desk, a wash-hand stand and 
 shaving glass, a boot-rack and boot-jack, a high stool, four chairs, a 
 table, and an old eight-day clock. Over the mantel-piece were the 
 sunken doors of an iron safe, while a couple of hanging shelves for 
 books, an almanack, and several files of dusty papers, decorated 
 the walls. 
 
 " Very sorry to leave you standing at the door, Sir," said the girl, 
 lighting a lamp, and addressing Mr. Pickwick with a winning smile, 
 " but you was quite strangers to me ; and we have such a many 
 trampers that only come to see what they can lay their hands on, 
 that really " 
 
 " There is not the least occasion for any apology, my dear," said Mr. 
 Pickwick good humouredly. 
 
 " Not the slightest, my love," said Bob Sawyer, playfully stretching 
 forth his arms, and skipping from side to side, as if to prevent the 
 young lady's learing the room.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 539 
 
 The young lady was not at all softened by these allurements, for 
 she at once expressed her opinion that Mr. Bob Sawyer was an 
 " odous creetur ; '' and, on his becoming rather more pressing in his 
 attentions, imprinted her fair fingers upon his face, and bounced out 
 of the room with many expressions of aversion and contempt. 
 
 Deprived of the young lady's society, Mr. Bob Sawyer proceeded 
 to divert himself by peeping into the desk, looking into all the table- 
 drawers, feigning to pick the lock of the iron safe, turning the 
 almanack with its face to the wall, trying Mr. Winkle senior's boots 
 on, over his own, and making several other humorous experiments 
 upon the furniture, all of which afforded Mr. Pickwick unspeakable 
 horror and agony, and yielded Mr. Bob Sawyer proportionate delight. 
 
 At length the door opened, and a little old gentleman in a snuff- 
 coloured suit, with a head and face the precise counterpart of those 
 belonging to Mr. Winkle junior, excepting that he was rather bald, 
 trotted into the room with Mr. Pickwick's card in one hand, and a 
 silver candlestick in the other. 
 
 "Mr. Pickwick, Sir, how do you do?" said Winkle the elder, 
 putting down the candlestick and proffering his hand. " Hope I see 
 you well, Sir. Glad to see you. Be seated, Mr. Pickwick, I beg 
 Sir. This gentleman is " 
 
 " My friend Mr. Sawyer," interposed Mr. Pickwick, " your son's 
 friend/' 
 
 "Oh," said Mr. Winkle the elder, looking rather grimly at Bob. 
 " I hope you are well, Sir." 
 
 " Right as a trivet," replied Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " This other gentleman," cried Mr. Pickwick, " is, as you will see 
 wben you have read the letter with which I am entrusted, a very near 
 relative, or I should rather say a very particular friend of your son's . 
 His name is Allen." 
 
 " That gentleman?" enquired Mr. Winkle, pointing with the 
 card towards Ben Allen, who had fallen asleep in an attitude which 
 left nothing of him visible but his spine and his coat collar. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick was on the point of replying to the question, and 
 reciting Mr. Benjamin Allen's name and honourable distinctions at 
 full length, when the sprightly Mr. Bob Sawyer, with the view of 
 rousing his friend to a sense of his situation, inflicted a startling pinch 
 upon the fleshy part of his arm, which caused him to jump up with a 
 loud shriek. Suddenly aware that he was in the presence of a 
 stranger, Mr. Ben Allen advanced and, shaking Mr. Winkle most 
 affectionately by both hands for about five minutes, murmured in some 
 half-intelligible fragments of sentences the great delight he felt in 
 seeing him, and a hospitable enquiry, whether he felt disposed to take 
 anything after his walk, or would prefer waiting " till dinner-time ; " 
 which done, he sat down and gazed about him with a petrified stare 
 as if he had not the remotest idea where he was, which indeed he 
 had not. 
 
 All this was most embarrassing to Mr. Pickwick, the more especially 
 as Mr. Winkle, senior, evinced palpable astonishment at the eccentric 
 not to say extraordinary behaviour of his two companions. To
 
 540 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 bring the matter to an issue at once, he drew a letter from his pocket, 
 and presenting it to Mr. Winkle, senior, said 
 
 " This letter, Sir, is from your son. You will see by its contents 
 that on your favourable and fatherly consideration of it, depend his 
 future happiness and welfare. Will you oblige me by giving it the 
 calmest and coolest perusal, and by discussing the subject afterwards, 
 with me, in the tone and spirit in which alone it ought to be discussed? 
 You may judge of the importance your decision is of, to your son, and his 
 intense anxiety upon the subject, by my waiting upon you without any 
 previous warning at so late an hour; and," added Mr. Pickwick, 
 glancing slightly at his two companions, " and under such unfavourable 
 circumstances." 
 
 With this prelude, Mr. Pickwick placed four closely written sides of 
 extra superfine wire-wove penitence in the hands of the astounded Mr. 
 Winkle, senior ; and reseating himself in his chair, watched his looks 
 and manner, anxiously it is true, but with the open front of a gentle- 
 man who feels he has taken no part which he need excuse or palliate. 
 
 The old wharfinger turned the letter over ; looked at the front, back, 
 and sides ; made a microscopic examination of the fat little boy on the 
 seal ; raised his eyes to Mr. Pickwick's face ; and then, seating himself 
 on the high stool and drawing the lamp closer to him, broke the wax, 
 unfolded the epistle, and lifting it to the light, prepared to read. 
 
 Just at this moment, Mr. Bob Sawyer, whose wit had lain dormant 
 for some minutes, placed his hands upon his knees and made a face 
 after the portraits of the late Mr. Grimaldi, as clown. It so happened 
 that Mr. Winkle, senior, instead of being deeply engaged in reading 
 the letter, as Mr. Bob Sawyer thought, chanced to be looking over the 
 top of it at no less a person' than Mr. Bob Sawyer himself; and rightly- 
 conjecturing that the face aforesaid was made in ridicule and derision 
 of his own person, he fixed his eyes on Bob with such expressive stern- 
 ness, that the late Mr. Grimaldi's lineaments gradually resolved them- 
 selves into a very fine expression of humility and confusion. 
 
 " Did you speak, Sir?" enquired Mr*. Winkle, senior, after an 
 awful silence. 
 
 *' No, Sir," replied Bob, with no remains of the clown about him, 
 save and except the extreme redness of his cheeks. 
 
 " You are sure you did not, Sir ? " said Mr. Winkle, senior. 
 
 *' Oh dear ! yes, Sir, quite," replied Bob. 
 
 " I thought you did, Sir," rejoined the old gentleman, with indignant 
 emphasis. " Perhaps you looked at me, Sir?" 
 
 " Oh, no! Sir, not at all," replied Bob, with extreme civility. 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it, Sir," said Mr. Winkle, senior. Having 
 frowned upon the abashed Bob with great magnificence, the old gen- 
 tleman again brought the letter to the light, and began to read it 
 seriously. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick eyed him intently as he turned from the bottom line 
 of the first page to the top line of the second, and from the bottom of 
 the second to the top of the third, and from the bottom of the third to 
 the top of the fourth ; but not the slightest alteration of countenance
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 541 
 
 afforded a clue to the feelings with which he received the announce- 
 ment of his son's marriage, which Mr. Pickwick knew was in the very 
 first half-dozen lines. 
 
 He read the letter to the last word, folded it again with all the care- 
 fulness and precision of a man of business ; and, just when Mr. Pick- 
 wick expected some great outbreak of feeling, dipped a pen in the ink- 
 stand, and said as quietly as if he were speaking on the most ordinary 
 counting-house topic 
 
 What is Nathaniel's address, Mr. Pickwick ? " 
 
 The George and Vulture, at present," replied that gentleman. 
 
 George and Vulture. Where is that ? " 
 
 Sun Court, Cornhill." 
 
 In the City ?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 The old gentleman methodically indorsed the address on the back of 
 the letter ; and then placing it in the desk, which he locked, said as 
 he got off the stool and put the bunch of keys in his pocket 
 
 " I suppose there is nothing else which need detain us, Mr. 
 Pickwick ?" 
 
 " Nothing else, my dear Sir ! " observed that warm-hearted person 
 in indignant amazement. " Nothing else ! Have you no opinion to 
 express on this momentous event in our young friend's life ; no as- 
 surance to convey to him, through me, of the continuance of your affec- 
 tion and protection ; nothing to say which will cheer and sustain him, 
 and the anxious girl who looks to him for comfort and support ? My 
 dear Sir, consider." 
 
 " I will consider," replied the old gentleman. " I have nothing to 
 say just now. I am a man of business, Mr. Pickwick ; I never commit 
 myself hastily in any affair, and from what I see of this, I by no means 
 like the appearance of it. A thousand pounds is not much, Mr. 
 Pickwick." 
 
 " You're very right, Sir,'' interposed Ben Allen, just awake enough 
 to know that he had spent his thousand pounds without the smallest 
 difficulty. " You're an intelligent man; Bob, he's a very knowing 
 fellow this." " 
 
 " I am very happy to find that you do me the justice to make the 
 admission, Sir," said Mr. Winkle, senior, looking contemptuously at 
 Ben Allen, who was shaking his head profoundly. " The fact is, Mr. 
 Pickwick, that when I gave my son a roving license for a year or so to 
 see something of men and manners (which he has done under your aus- 
 pices), so that he might not enter into life a mere boarding-school milk- 
 sop to be gulled by every body, I never bargained for this. He knows that 
 very well, so if 1 withdraw my countenance from him on this account, 
 he has no call to be surprised. He shall hear from me, Mr. Pickwick. 
 Good night, Sir. Margaret, open the door." 
 
 All this time Bob Sawyer had been nudging Mr. Ben Allen to say 
 something on the right side ; and Ben accordingly now burst out, 
 without the slightest preliminary notice, into a brief but impassioned 
 piece of eloquence.
 
 542 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Ben Allen, staring at the old gentleman, through a 
 pair of very dim and languid eyes, and working his right arm vehemently 
 up and down, " you you ought to be ashamed of yourself." 
 
 " As the lady's brother, of course you are an excellent judge of the 
 question," retorted Mr Winkle, senior. " There; that's enough. 
 Pray say no more, Mr. Pickwick. Good night, gentlemen." 
 
 With these words the old gentleman took up the candlestick, and 
 opening the room door, politely motioned towards the passage. 
 
 " You will regret this, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, setting his teeth 
 close together to keep down his choler ; for he felt how important the 
 effort might prove to his young friend. 
 
 " I am at present of a different opinion,'' calmly replied Mr. Winkle, 
 senior. " Once again, gentlemen, I wish you a good night. 1 ' 
 
 Mr. Pickwick walked with angry strides into the street. Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, completely quelled by the decision of the old gentleman's 
 manner, took the same course j Mr. Ben Allen's hat rolled down the 
 steps immediately afterwards, and Mr. Ben Allen's body followed it 
 directly. The whole party went silent and supperless to bed ; and Mr. 
 Pickwick thought, just before he fell asleep, that if he had known Mr. 
 Winkle, senior, had been quite so much of a man of business, it was 
 extremely probable he might never have waited upon him, on such an 
 errand. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 IN WHICH MR. PICKWICK ENCOUNTERS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE, 
 TO WHICH FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCE THE READER IS MAINLY 
 INDEBTED FOR MATTER OF THRILLING INTEREST HEREIN SET 
 DOWN, CONCERNING TWO GREAT PUBLIC MEN OF MIGHT AND 
 TOWER. 
 
 THE morning which broke upon Mr. Pickwick's sight at eight 
 o'clock was not at all calculated to elevate his spirits, or to lessen the 
 depression which the unlooked-for result of his embassy inspired. The 
 sky was dark and gloomy, the air damp and raw, the streets wet and 
 sloppy. The smoke hung sluggishly above the chimney-tops as if it 
 lacked the courage to rise, and the rain came slowly and doggedly down 
 as if it had not even the spirit to pour. A game-cock in the stable- 
 yard, deprived of every spark of his accustomed animation, balanced 
 himself dismally on one leg in a corner : and a donkey, moping with 
 drooping head under the narrow roof of an outhouse, appeared from his 
 meditative and miserable countenance to be contemplating suicide. In 
 the street, umbrellas were the only things to be seen, and the clicking 
 of pattens and splashing of rain-drops, the only sounds to be heard. 
 
 The breakfast was interrupted by very little conversation ; even Mr. 
 Bob Sawyer felt the influence of the weather, and the previous day's 
 excitement. In his own most expressive language, he was " floored.' 3 
 So was Mr. Ben Allen. So was Mr. Pickwick.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 543 
 
 In protracted expectation of the weather clearing up, the last 
 evening paper from London was read and re-read with an intensity of 
 interest only known in cases of extreme destitution ; every inch of the 
 carpet was walked over with similar perseverance, the windows were 
 looked out of often enough to justify the imposition of an additional 
 duty upon them, all kinds of topics of conversation were started, and 
 failed ; and at length Mr. Pickwick when noon had arrived without a 
 change for the better, rang the bell resolutely and ordered out the 
 chaise. 
 
 Although the roads were miry, and the drizzling rain came down 
 harder than it had done yet, and 'although the mud and wet splashed in 
 at the open windows of the carriage to such an extent that the discom- 
 fort was almost as great to the pair of insides as to the pair of outsides, 
 still there was something in the very motion, and the sense of being up 
 and doing, which was so infinitely superior to being pent in a dull 
 room, looking at the dull rain dripping into a dull street, that they all 
 agreed, on starting, that the change was a great improvement, and 
 wondered how they could possibly have delayed making it as long as 
 they had done. 
 
 When they stopped to change at Coventry, the steam ascended from 
 the horses in such clouds as wholly to obscure the hostler, whose voice 
 was however heard to declare from the mist, that he expected the first 
 Gold Medal from the Humane Society on their next distribution of 
 rewards, for taking the postboy's hat off; the water descending from 
 the brim of which, the invisible gentleman declared must inevitably 
 have drowned him (the postboy), but for his great presence of mind in 
 tearing it promptly from his head, and drying the gasping man's 
 countenance with a wisp of straw. 
 
 "This is pleasant," said Bob Sawyer, turning up his coat collar, and 
 pulling the shawl over his mouth to concentrate the fumes of a glass of 
 brandy just swallowed. 
 
 " Wery." replied Sam, composedly. 
 
 " You don't seem to mind it," obs'erved Bob. 
 
 " Vy, I don't exactly see no good my mindin' on it 'ad do, Sir," 
 replied Sam. 
 
 " That's an unanswerable reason, anyhow," said Bob. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller. " Wotever is, is right, as the 
 young nobleman sveetly remarked ven they put him down in the 
 pension list 'cos his mother's uncle's vife's grandfather vunce lit the 
 king's pipe vith a portable tinder box." 
 
 " Not a bad notion that, Sam," said Mr. Bob Sawyer approvingly. 
 
 " Just wot the young nobleman said ev'ry quarter-day arterwards for 
 the rest of his life," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Wos you ever called in," enquired Sam, glancing at the driver, 
 after a short silence, and lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper, 
 " wos you ever called in, ven you wos 'prentice to a sawbones, to wisit 
 a postboy ? " 
 
 " I doift remember that I ever was," replied Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " You never see a postboy in that 'ere hospital as you walked (as 
 they says o' the ghosts), did you?" demanded Sam.
 
 544 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " No," replied Bob Sawyer. " I don't think I ever did." 
 
 " Never know'd a churchyard vere there wos a postboy's tombstone, 
 or see a dead postboy, did you ? " enquired Sam, pursuing his cate- 
 chism. 
 
 "No," rejoined Bob, "I never did." 
 
 "No," rejoined Sam, triumphantly. "Nor never vill ; and there's 
 another thing that no man never see, and that's a dead donkey no man 
 never see a dead donkey, 'cept the genTnvn in the black silk smalls as 
 know'd the young 'ooman as kept a goat ; and that wos a French 
 donkey, so wery likely he warn't vun o' the reg'lar breed." 
 
 "Well, what has that got to do with the postboys?" asked Bob 
 Sawyer. 
 
 " This here," replied Sam. " Vithout goin' so far as to as-sert, as 
 some wery sensible people do, that postboys and donkeys is both im- 
 mortal, wot I say is this ; that venever they feels theirselves gettin 
 stiff and past their work, they just rides off together, vun postboy to a 
 pair, in the usual vay ; wot becomes on 'em nobody knows, but it's 
 W(jry probable as they starts avay to take their pleasure in some other 
 vorld, for there ain't a man alive as ever see either a donkey or a 
 postboy a takin' his pleasure in this ! " 
 
 Expatiating upon this learned and remarkable theory, and citing 
 many curious statistical and other facts in its support, Sam Weller 
 beguiled the time until they reached Dunchurch, where a dry post-boy 
 and fresh horses were procured ; the next stage was Daventry, and the 
 next Towcester ; and at the end of each stage it rained harder than it 
 had done at the beginning. 
 
 " I say," remonstrated Bob Sawyer, looking in at the coach window, 
 as they pulled up before the door of the Saracen's Head, Towcester, 
 " this won't do you know." 
 
 "Bless me !" said Mr. Pickwick, just awakening from a nap, "I'm 
 afraid you are wet." 
 
 " Oh you are, are you ? " returned Bob. " Yes, I am, a little that 
 
 way uncomfortably damp, perhaps. 
 Bob did look dampish, ii 
 
 dampish, inasmuch as the rain was streaming from his 
 neck, elbows, cuffs, skirts, and knees ; and his whole apparel shone so 
 with the wet, that it might have been mistaken for a full suit of pre- 
 pared oilskin. 
 
 " I am rather wet," said Bob, giving himself a shake, and casting 
 a little hydraulic shower around in so doing, like a Newfoundland dog 
 just emerged from the water. 
 
 " I think it's quite impossible to go on to-night," interposed Ben. 
 
 " Out of the question, Sir," remarked Sam Weller, coming to assist 
 in the conference ; "it's cruelty to animals, Sir, to ask 'em to do it. 
 There's beds here, Sir," said Sam, addressing his master, "everything 
 clean and comfortable. Wery good little dinner, Sir, they can get 
 ready in half an hour pair of fowls, Sir, and u weal cutlet ; French 
 beans, 'taturs, tart, and tidiness. You'd better stop vere you are, Sir, 
 if I might recommend. Take adwice, Sir, as the doctor said." 
 
 The host of the Saracen's Head opportunely appeared at this moment, 
 to confirm Mr. Weller's statement relative to the accommodations of
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 545 
 
 the establishment, and to back his entreaties with a variety of dismal 
 conjectures regarding the state of the roads, the doubt of fresh horses 
 being to be had at the next stage, the dead certainty of its raining all 
 night, the equally mortal certainty of its clearing up in the morning, 
 and other topics of inducement familiar to innkeepers. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Pickwick, "but I must send a letter to London 
 by some conveyance, so that it may be delivered the very first thing in 
 the morning, or I must go forward at all hazards." 
 
 The landlord smiled his delight. Nothing could be easier than for 
 the gentleman to inclose a letter in a sheet of brown paper and send 
 it on either by the mail or the night coach from Birmingham. If the 
 gentleman was particularly anxious to have it left as soon as possible, 
 he might write outside, " To be delivered immediately," which was 
 sure to be attended to ; or ' pay the bearer half-a-crown extra for in- 
 stant delivery," which was surer still. 
 
 " Very well," said Mr. Pickwick, " then we will stop here." 
 
 "Lights in the Sun, John; make up the fire the gentlemen are 
 wet," cried the landlord. " This way, gentlemen ; don't trouble 
 yourself about the postboy now, Sir ; I'll send him to you when you 
 ring for him, Sir. Now John, the candles/' 
 
 The candles were brought, the fire was stirred up, and a fresh log of 
 wood thrown on. In ten minutes' time a waiter was laying the cloth 
 for dinner, the curtains were drawn, the fire was blazing brightly, and 
 every thing looked (as every thing always does in all decent English 
 inns) as if the travellers had been expected and their comforts prepared, 
 for days beforehand. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick sat down at a side table and hastily indited a note to 
 Mr. Winkle, merely informing him that he was detained by stress of 
 weather, but would certainly be in London next day ; until when he 
 deferred any further account of his proceedings. This note was hastily 
 made up into a parcel and despatched to the bar per Mr. Samuel 
 Weller. 
 
 Sam left it with the landlady, and was returning to pull his master's 
 boots off, after drying himself by the kitchen fire, when, glancing 
 casually through a half-opened door, he was arrested by the sight of 
 a gentleman with a sandy head who had a large bundle of newspapers 
 lying on the table before him, and was perusing the leading article of 
 one with a settled sneer which curled up his nose and all his other fea- 
 tures into a majestic expression of haughty contempt. 
 
 " Hallo ! '' said Sam, " I ought to know that 'ere head and them fea- 
 turs ; -the eye-glass, too, and the broad-brimmed tile ! Eatansrill to 
 vit, or I'm a Roman." 
 
 Sam was taken with a troublesome cough at once, for the purpose 
 of attracting the gentleman's attention : and the gentleman starting at 
 the sound, raised his head and his eye-glass, and disclosed to view the 
 profound and thoughtful features of Mr. Pott, of the Eatanswill 
 Gazette. 
 
 " Beggin' your pardon, Sir," said Sam, advancing with a bow, " my 
 master's here, Mr. Pott."
 
 546 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 "Hush, hush !" cried Pott, drawing Sam into the room, and closing 
 the door, with a countenance of mysterious dread and apprehension. 
 
 " Wot's the matter, Sir ?" enquired Sam, looking vacantly about him. 
 
 " Not a whisper of my name," replied Pott " this is a buff neigh- 
 bourhood. If the excited and irritable populace knew I was here, I 
 should be torn to pieces/' 
 
 " No ; vould you, Sir 'f " enquired Sam. 
 
 " I should be the victim of their fury," replied Pott. "Now, young 
 man, what of your master ? " 
 
 ** He's a stoppin' here to-night on his vay to town, vith a couple of 
 friends/' replied Sam. 
 
 " Is Mr. Winkle one of them ?" enquired Pott, with a slight frown. 
 
 " No, Sir ; Mr. Vinkle stops at home now," rejoined Sam. " He's 
 married." 
 
 "Married!" exclaimed Pott, with frightful vehemence. He stop- 
 ped, smiled darkly, and added, in a low, vindictive tone, " It serves 
 him right !'' 
 
 Having given vent to this cruel ebullition of deadly malice and cold- 
 blooded triumph over a fallen enemy, Mr. Pott enquired whether Mr. 
 Pickwick's friends were "blue;" receiving a most satisfactory answer 
 in the affirmative from Sam, who knew as much about the matter as 
 Pott himself, he consented to accompany him to Mr. Pickwick's room, 
 where a hearty welcome awaited him, and an agreement to club their 
 dinners together was at once made and ratified. 
 
 "And how are matters going on in Eatanswill ?" inquired Mr. Pick- 
 wick, when Pott had taken a seat near the fire, and the whole party 
 had got their wet boots off, and dry slippers on. " Is the Independent 
 still in being ? " 
 
 "The Independent, Sir," replied Pott, "is still dragging on a 
 wretched and lingering career, abhorred and despised by even the few 
 who are cognizant of its miserable and disgraceful existence ; stifled 
 by the very filth it so profusely scatters : rendered deaf and blind by 
 the exhalations of its own slime, the obscene journal, happily uncon- 
 scious of its degraded state, is rapidly sinking beneath that treacherous 
 mud which, while it seems to give it a firm standing with the low and 
 debased classes of society, is, nevertheless, rising above its detested 
 head, and will speedily engulf it for ever." 
 
 Having delivered this manifesto (which formed a portion of his last 
 week's leader) with vehement articulation, the editor paused to take 
 breath, and looked majestically at Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " You are a young man, Sir," said Pott. 
 
 Mr. Bob Sawyer nodded. 
 
 " So are you, Sir," said Pott, addressing Mr. Ben Allen. 
 
 Ben admitted the soft impeachment. 
 
 " And are both deeply imbued with those blue principles, which 
 so long as I live, I have pledged myself to the people of these kingdoms 
 to support and to maintain "i " suggested Pott. 
 
 " Why, I don't exactly know about that," replied Bob Sawyer, 
 " I am"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 547 
 
 " Not buff, Mr. Pickwick," interrupted Pott, drawing back his 
 chair, " your friend is not buff, Sir ?" 
 
 i: No, no," rejoined Bob, " I'm a kind of plaid at present ; a com- 
 pound of all sorts of colours." 
 
 " A waverer," said Pott solemnly, " a waverer. I should like to 
 show you a series of eight articles, Sir, that have appeared in the 
 Eatanswill Gazette. I think I may venture to say that you would 
 not be long in establishing your ' opinions on a firm and solid 
 basis, Sir." 
 
 " I dare say I should turn very blue, long before I got to the end of 
 them,'* responded Bob. 
 
 Mr. Pott looked dubiously at Bob Sawyer for some seconds, and, 
 turning to Mr. Pickwick, said 
 
 " You have seen the literary articles which have appeared at 
 intervals in the Eatanswill Gazette in the course of the last three 
 months, and which have excited such general I may say such 
 universal attention and admiration ? " 
 
 "Why," replied Mr. Pickwick, slightly embarrassed by the question, 
 " the fact is, I have been so much engaged in other ways, that I really 
 have not had an opportunity of perusing them." 
 
 " You should do so, Sir," said Pott, with a severe countenance. 
 
 " I will," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " They appeared in the form of a copious review of a work on 
 Chinese metaphysics, Sir," said Pott. 
 
 " Oh," observed Mr. Pickwick " from your pen I hope ? " 
 
 " From the pen of my critic, Sir," rejoined Pott with dignity. 
 
 " An abstruse subject I should conceive," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "Very, Sir," responded Pott, looking intensely sage. "He crammed 
 for it, to use a technical but expressive term ; he read up for the 
 subject, at my desire, in the Encyclopaedia Britannica" 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Pickwick ; "I was not aware that that valuable 
 work contained any information respecting Chinese metaphysics." 
 
 " He read, Sir," rejoined Pott, laying his hand on Mr. Pickwick's 
 knee, and looking round with a smile of intellectual superiority, " he 
 read for metaphysics under the letter M, and for China under the 
 letter C ; and combined his information, Sir ! " 
 
 Mr. Pott's features assumed so much additional grandeur at the 
 recollection of the power and research displayed in the learned effusions 
 in question, that some minuses elapsed before Mr. Pickwick felt 
 emboldened to renew the conversation ; at length, as the Editor's 
 countenance gradually relapsed into its customary expression of moral 
 supremacy, he ventured to resume the discourse by asking 
 
 "Is it fair to enquire what great object has brought you so far 
 from home ? " 
 
 " That object which actuates and animates me in all my gigantic 
 labours, Sir/' replied Pott, with a calm smile " my country's good." 
 
 11 1 supposed it was some public mission," observed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," resumed Pott, " it is." Here, bending towards Mr. 
 Pickwick, he whispered in a deep hollow voice, " A buff ball, Sir, 
 will take place in Birmingham to-morrow evening." 
 
 Q Q
 
 548 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " God bless me ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, and supper," added Pott. 
 
 " You don't say so ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Pott nodded portentously. 
 
 Now, although Mr. Pickwick feigned to stand aghast at this dis- 
 closure, he was so little versed in local politics that he was unable to 
 form an adequate comprehension of the importance of the dire con- 
 spiracy it referred to; observing which, Mr. Pott, drawing forth the 
 last number of the Eatanswill Gazette, and referring to the same, 
 delivered himself of the following paragraph : 
 
 " HOLE-AND-CORNER BuFFERY. 
 
 " A reptile contemporary has recently sweltered forth his black 
 venom in the vain and hopeless attempt of sullying the fair name of 
 our distinguished and excellent representative, the Honourable Mr. 
 Slumkey that Slumkey whom we, long before he gained his present 
 noble and exalted position, predicted would one day be, as he now is, 
 at once his country's brightest honour, and her proudest boast: aliie 
 her bold defender and her honest pride our reptile contemporary, 
 we say, has made himself merry at the expense of a superbly embossed 
 plated coal-scuttle, which has been presented to that glorious man by 
 his enraptured constituents, and towards the purchase of which, the 
 nameless wretch insinuates, the Honourable Mr. Slumkey himself con- 
 tributed, through a confidential friend of his butler's, more than three- 
 fourths of the whole sum subscribed. Why, does not the crawling 
 creature see that even if this be the fact, the Honourable Mr. Slumkey 
 only appears in a still more amiable and radiant light than before, 
 if that be possible ? doe& not even his obtuseness perceive that this 
 amiable and touching desire to carry out the wishes of the constituent 
 body must for ever endear him to the hearts and souls of such of his 
 fellow townsmen as are not worse than swine ; or, in other words, 
 who are not as debased as our contemporary himself ? But. such is 
 the wretched trickery of hole-and-corner BufFery ! These are not its 
 only artifices. Treason is abroad. We boldly state, now that we are 
 goaded to the disclosure, and we throw ourselves on the country and its 
 constables for protection : we boldly state that secret preparations are 
 at this moment in progress for a Buff ball, which is to be held in a Buff 
 town, in the very heart and cejitre of a Buff population ; which is to 
 be conducted by a Buff master of the ceremonies ; which is to be 
 attended by four ultra Buff members of parliament, and the admission 
 to which is to be by Buff tickets ! Does our fiendish contemporary 
 wince? Let him writhe in impotent malice as we pen the words, 
 
 WE WILL BE THERE." 
 
 " There, Sir," said Pott, folding up the paper quite exhausted, 
 " that is the state of the case." 
 
 The landlord and waiter entering at the moment with dinner, 
 caused Mr. Pott to lay his finger on his lips in token that he considered 
 his life in Mr. Pickwick's hands, and depended on his secrecy. Messrs. 
 Bob Sawyer and Benjamin Allen, who had irreverently fallen asleep 
 during the reading of the quotation from the Eatanswill Gazette and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 549 
 
 the discussion which followed it, were roused by the mere whispering 
 of the talismanic word " Dinner " in their ears ; and to dinner they 
 went with good digestion waiting on appetite, and health on both, and 
 a waiter upon all three. 
 
 In the course of the dinner and the sitting which succeeded it, Mr. 
 Pott descending for a few moments to domestic topics, informed Mr. 
 Pickwick that the air of Eatanswill not agreeing with his lady, she 
 was then engaged in making a tour of different fashionable watering 
 places with a view to the recovery of her wonted health and spirits ; 
 this was a delicate veiling of the fact that Mrs. Pott, acting upon her 
 often repeated threat of separation, had, in virtue of an arrangement 
 negociated by her brother, the Lieutenant, and concluded by Mr. Pott, 
 permanently retired with the faithful body-guard upon one moiety or 
 half-part of the annual income and profits arising from the editorship 
 and sale of the Eatanswill Gazette. 
 
 While the great Mr. Pott was dwelling upon this and other matters, 
 enlivening the conversation from time to time with various extracts 
 from his own lucubrations, a stern stranger, calling from the window 
 of a stage-coach, outward bound, which halted at the inn to deliver 
 packages, requested to know whether if he stopped short on his journey 
 and remained there for the night he could be furnished with the neces- 
 sary accommodation of a bed and bedstead. 
 
 " Certainly, Sir," replied the landlord. 
 
 " I can, can I ?" enquired the stranger, who seemed habitually sus- 
 picious in look and manner. 
 
 " No doubt of it, Sir," replied the landlord. 
 
 " Good," said the stranger. " Coachman, I get down here. Guard, 
 my carpet-bag." 
 
 Bidding the other passengers good night in a rather snappish manner, 
 the stranger alighted. He was a shortish gentleman, with very stiff 
 black hair, cut in the porcupine or blacking-brush style, and 
 standing stiff and straight all over his head; his aspect was 'pompous 
 and threatening ; his manner was peremptory ; his eyes sharp and 
 restless ; and his whole bearing bespoke a feeling of great confidence in 
 himself, and a consciousness of immeasurable superiority over all other 
 people. 
 
 This gentleman was shown into the room originally assigned to the 
 patriotic Mr. Pott ; and the waiter remarked, in dumb astonishment at 
 the singular coincidence, that he had no sooner lighted the candles than 
 the gentleman, diving into his hat, drew forth a newspaper, and began 
 to read it with the very same expression of indignant scorn which upon 
 the majestic features of Pott had paralysed his energies an hour before. 
 The man observed too, that whereas Mr. Pott's scorn had been roused 
 by a newspaper headed The Eatanswill Independent, this gentleman's 
 withering contempt was awakened by a newspaper entitled The 
 Eatanswill Gazette. 
 
 " Send the landlord," said the stranger. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," rejoined the waiter. 
 
 The landlord was sent, and came. 
 
 " Are you the landlord?" enquired the gentleman. 
 
 *' I am, Sir/' replied the landlord. 
 
 QQ2
 
 550 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Do you know me?" demanded the gentleman. 
 
 " I have not that pleasure, Sir," rejoined the landlord. 
 
 " My name is Slurk," said the gentleman. 
 
 The landlord slightly inclined his head. 
 
 " Slurk, Sir," repeated the gentleman, haughtily. " Do you know 
 me now, man ? " 
 
 The landlord scratched his head, looked at the ceiling, and at the 
 stranger, and smiled feebly. 
 
 " Do you know me, man ? " enquired the stranger, angrily. 
 
 The landlord made a strong effort, and at length replied, " Well, 
 Sir, I do not know you." 
 
 " Good God ! " said the stranger, dashing his clenched fist upon the 
 tahle. "And this is popularity !" 
 
 The landlord took a step or two towards the door, and the stranger 
 fixing his eyes upon him, resumed. 
 
 "This," said the stranger, " this is gratitude for years of labour and 
 study in behalf of the masses. I alight wet and weary ; no enthusiastic 
 crowds press forward to greet their champion, the church-bells are 
 silent ; the very name elicits no responsive feeling in their torpid 
 bosoms. It is enough,' 5 said the agitated Mr. Slurk, pacing to and fro, 
 "to curdle the ink in one's pen, and induce one to abandon their 
 cause for ever." 
 
 " Did you say brandy and water, Sir ? '' said the landlord, venturing 
 a hint. 
 
 " Rum,'' said Mr. Slurk, turning fiercely upon him. " Have you 
 got a fire anywhere ?" 
 
 " We can light one directly, Sir," said the landlord. 
 
 " Which will throw out no heat till it is bed time," interrupted Mr. 
 Slurk. " Is there anybody in the kitchen ? " 
 
 Not a soul. There was a beautiful fire. Everybody had gone, and 
 the door was closed for the night. 
 
 " I will drink my rum and water," said Mr. Slurk, " by the kitchen 
 fire." So, gathering up his hat and newspaper, he stalked solemnly 
 behind the landlord to that humble apartment, and throwing himself 
 on a settle by the fireside, resumed his countenance of scorn, and began 
 to read and drink in silent dignity. 
 
 Now some demon of discord, flying over the Saracen's Head at that 
 moment, on casting down his eyes in mere idle curiosity, happened to 
 behold Slurk established comfortably by the kitchen fire, and Pott 
 slightly elevated with wine in another'room ; upon which the malicious 
 demon darting down into the last-mentioned apartment with inconceivable 
 rapidity, passed at once into the head of Mr. Bob Sawyer, and prompted 
 him for his (the demon's) own evil purposes to speak as follows. 
 
 " I say, we've let the tire out. It's uncommonly cold after the rain, 
 isn't it ?'" 
 
 " It really is," replied Mr. Pickwick, shivering. 
 
 " It \vouldn't be a bad notion to have a cigar by the kitchen fire, 
 would it?" said Bob Sawyer, still prompted by the demon aforesaid. 
 
 " It would be particularly comfortable, / think," ^replied Mr. 
 Pickwick. " Mr. Pott, what do you say ? " 
 
 Mr. Pott yielded a ready assent ; and all four travellers, each with his
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 551 
 
 glass in his hand, at once betook themselves to the kitchen, with Sam 
 Weller heading the procession to shew them the way. 
 
 The stranger was still reading ; he looked up and started. Mr. Pott 
 started. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " whispered Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " That reptile !" replied Pott. 
 
 " What reptile ? " said Mr. Pickwick, looking about him for fear he 
 should tread on some overgrown black beetle, or dropsical spider. 
 
 "That reptile," whispered Pott, catching Mr. Pickwick by the arm, 
 and pointing towards the stranger. " That reptile Slurk, of the 
 Independent ! " 
 
 " Perhaps we had better retire," whispered Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Never, Sir," rejoined Pott, pot-valiant in a double sense 
 11 never." With these words, Mr. Pott took up his position on an 
 opposite settle, and selecting one from a little bundle of newspapers, 
 began to read against his enemy. 
 
 Mr. Pott, of course, read the Independent, and Mr. Slurk, of course, 
 read the Gazette ; and each gentleman audibly expressed his contempt 
 of the others compositions by bitter laughs and sarcastic sniffs ; whence 
 they proceeded to more open expressions of opinion, such as " absurd," 
 " wretched," " atrocity," " humbug,'' " knavery," " dirt," 
 " filth,'' " slime, : ' " ditch water," and other critical remarks of the 
 like nature. 
 
 Both Mr. Bob Sawyer and Mr. Ben Allen had beheld these symp- 
 toms of rivalry and hatred with a degree*" of delight, which imparted 
 great additional relish to the cigars at which they were puffing most 
 vigorously. The moment they began to flag, the mischievous Mr. Bob 
 Sawyer, addressing Slurk with great politeness, said 
 
 " Will you allow me to look at your paper, Sir, when you have quite 
 done with it ? " 
 
 " You'll find very little to repay you for your trouble in this con- 
 temptible thing, Sir," replied Slurk, bestowing a Satanic frown on Pott. 
 
 " You shall have this presently," said Pott, looking up, pale with 
 rage, and quivering in his speech from the same cause. " Ha ! ha ! 
 you will be amused with ihisfellotv's audacity." 
 
 Terrific emphasis was laid upon "thing" and "fellow;" and the 
 faces of both editors began to glow with defiance. 
 
 "The ribaldry of this miserable man is despicably disgusting," said 
 Pott, pretending to address Bob Sawyer, and scowling upon Slurk. 
 
 Here Mr. Slurk laughed very heartily, and folding the paper so as 
 to get at a fresh column conveniently, said, that the blockhead really 
 amused him. 
 
 " What an impudent blunderer this fellow is," said Pott, turning 
 from pink to crimson. 
 
 " Did you ever read any of this man's foolery, Sir ? " enquired Slurk, 
 of Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " Never," replied Bob ; " is it very bad ?" 
 
 " Oh, shocking ! shocking !" rejoined Slurk. 
 
 " Really, clear me, this is too atrocious !" exclaimed Pott, at this 
 juncture; still feigning to be absorbed in his reading. 
 
 " If you can wade through a few sentences of malice, meanness,
 
 552 POSTHUltfOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 falsehood, perjury, treachery, and cant," said Slurk, handing the paper 
 to Bob, " you will, perhaps, be somewhat repaid by a laugh at the style 
 of this ungrammatical twaddler." 
 
 "What's that you said, Sir?" inquired Pott, looking up, trembling 
 all over with passion. 
 
 " What's that to you, Sir ? " replied Slurk. 
 
 " Ungrammatical twaddler, was it, Sir ?'' said Pott. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, it was," replied Slurk; "and blue bore, Sir, if you like 
 that better; ha! ha!'' 
 
 Mr. Pott retorted not a word to this jocose insult, but deliberately 
 folding up his copy of the Independent, flattened it carefully down, 
 crushed it beneath his boot, spat upon it with great ceremony, and 
 flung it into the fire. 
 
 " There, Sir," said Pott, retreating from the stove, " and that's the 
 way I would serve the viper who produces it, if I were not, fortunately 
 for him, restrained by the laws of my country." 
 
 " Serve him so, Sir !" cried Slurk, starting up : " those laws shall 
 never be appealed to by him, Sir, in such a case. Serve him so, Sir !" 
 
 " Hear ! hear ! '' said Bob Sawyer. 
 
 " Nothing can be fairer," observed Mr. Ben Allen. 
 
 " Serve him so, Sir !" reiterated Slurk, in a loud voice. 
 
 Mr. Pott darted a look of contempt, which might have withered an 
 anchor. 
 
 " Serve him so, Sir !" reiterated Slurk, in a louder voice than before. 
 
 "I will not, Sir;" rejoined Pott. 
 
 " Oh, you won't ! won't you, Sir?" said Mr. Slurk, in a taunting 
 manner ; " you hear this, gentlemen ! He won't ; not that he's afraid ; 
 oh, no! he wont. Ha ! ha !" 
 
 " I consider you, Sir," said Mr. Pott, moved by this sarcasm, " I 
 consider you a viper. I look upon, Sir, you as a man who has placed 
 himself beyond the pale of society, by his most audacious, disgraceful, 
 and abominable public conduct. I view you, Sir, personally or po- 
 litically, in no other light but as a most unparalleled and" unmiti- 
 gated viper." 
 
 The indignant Independent did not wait to hear the end of this personal 
 denunciation, for, catching up his carpet-bag, which was well stuffed 
 with moveables, he swung it in the air as Pott turned away, and letting 
 it fall with a circular sweep on his head just at that particular angle 
 of the bag where a good thick hair-brush happened to be packed, 
 caused a sharp crash to be heard throughout the kitchen, and brought 
 him at once to the ground. 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried Mr. Pickwick, as Pott started up and seized 
 the fire-shovel, "gentlemen, consider for Heaven's sake help Sam 
 here pray, gentlemen interfere, somebody." 
 
 Uttering these incoherent exclamations," Mr. Pickwick rushed 
 between the infuriated combatants just in time to receive the carpet 
 bag on one side of his body, and the fire-shovel on the other ; whether 
 the representatives of the public feeling of Eatanswill were blinded 
 by animosity, or, being both acute reasoners, saw the advantage of 
 having a third party between them to bear all the blows, certain it is
 

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 553 
 
 that they paid not the slightest attention to Mr. Pickwick, but 
 defying each other with great spirit, plied the carpet bag and the 
 fire-shovel most fearlessly. Mr. Pickwick would unquestionably have 
 suffered severely from his humane interference, if Mr. Weller, attracted 
 by his master's cries, had not rushed in at the moment and, snatching 
 up a meal-sack, effectually stopped the conflict by drawing it over 
 the head and shoulders of the mighty Pott, and clasping him tight 
 round the elbows. 
 
 " Take avay that 'ere bag from the t'other madman," said Sam 
 to Ben Allen and Bob Sawyer, who had done nothing but dodge 
 round the group, each with a tortoise-shell lancet in his hand, ready 
 to bleed the first man stunned. " Give it up, you wretched little 
 creetur, or I'll smother you in it." 
 
 Awed by these threats, and quite out of breath, the Independent 
 suffered himself to be disarmed; and Mr. Weller, removing the 
 extinguisher from Pott, set him free with a caution. 
 
 " You take yourselves off to bed quietly," said Sam, " or I'll put 
 you both in it, and let you fight it out vith the mouth tied, as I vould 
 a dozen sich, if they played these games. And you have the goodness 
 to come this here vay, Sir, if yon please." 
 
 Thus addressing his master, Sam took him by the arm and led him 
 off, while the rival editors were severally removed to their beds by the 
 landlord, under the inspection of Mr. Bob Sawyer and Mr. Benjamin 
 Allen ; breathing, as they went away ; many sanguinary threats, and 
 making vague appointments for mortal combat next day. When they 
 came to think it over, however, it occurred to them that they could 
 do it much better in print, so they recommenced deadly hostilities 
 Avithout delay ; and all Eatanswill rung with their boldness on paper. 
 
 They had taken themselves off in separate coaches, early next 
 morning, before the other travellers were stirring ; and the weather 
 having now cleared up, the chaise companions once more turned their 
 faces to London. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 INVOLVING A SERIOUS CHANGE IN THE WELLER FAMILY, AND 
 THE UNTIMELY DOWNFALL OF THE RED-NOSED MU. STIGGINS. 
 
 CONSIDDRING it a matter of delicacy to abstain from introducing 
 either Bob Sawyer or Ben Allen to the young couple, until they were 
 fully prepared to expect them ; and wishing to spare Arabella's feelings 
 as much as possible, Mr. Pickwick proposed that he and Sam should 
 alight in the neighbourhood of the George and Vulture, and that the 
 two young men should for the present take up their quarters else- 
 where; to this they very readily agreed, and the proposition was 
 accordingly acted upon : Mr. Ben Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer betaking 
 themselves to a sequestered pot-shop on the remotest confines of the
 
 554 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Borough, behind the bar-door of which their names had in other days 
 very often appeared, at the head of long and complex calculations 
 worked in white chalk. 
 
 " Dear me, Mr. Weller," said the pretty housemaid, meeting Sam 
 at the door. 
 
 " Dear me I vish it wos, my dear," replied Sam, dropping behind, 
 to let his master get out of hearing. " Wot a sweet lookin' creetur 
 you are, Mary!" 
 
 " Lor, Mr. Weller, what nonsense you do talk ! " said Mary. "Oh ! 
 don't, Mr. Weller." 
 
 " Don't what, my dear ? " said Sam. 
 
 " Why, that/' replied the pretty housemaid. " Lor, do get along 
 with you." Thus admonishing him, the pretty housemaid smilingly 
 pushed Sam against the wall, declaring that he had tumbled her cap, 
 and put her hair quite out of curl. 
 
 " And prevented what I was going to say, besides," added Mary. 
 " There's a letter been waiting here for you four days ; you hadn't 
 been gone away half an hour when it came ; and more than that, it's 
 got, immediate, on the outside." 
 
 " Vere is it, my love ? " enquired Sam. 
 
 " I took care of it for you, or I dare say it would have been lost 
 long before this," replied Mary. " There, take it ; it's more than you 
 deserve." 
 
 With these words, after many pretty little coquettish doubts and 
 fears, and wishes that she might not have lost it, Mary produced the 
 letter from behind the nicest little muslin tucker possible, and handed 
 it to Sam, who thereupon kissed it with much gallantry and devotion. 
 "My goodness me ! " said Mary, adjusting the tucker, and feigning 
 unconsciousness, " you seem to have grown very fond of it ail at 
 once." 
 
 To this Mr. Weller only replied by a wink, the intense meaning 
 of which no description could convey the faintest idea of; and, setting 
 himself down beside Mary on a window-seat, opened the letter and 
 glanced at the contents. 
 
 " Hallo ! '' exclaimed Sam, " wot's all this t " 
 
 ' Nc thing the matter, I hope?" said Mary, peeping over his shoulder. 
 " Bless them eyes o' yourn," said Sam, looking up. 
 " Never mind my eyes ; you had much better read your letter," 
 said the pretty housemaid, and as she said this, she made the eyes 
 twinkle with such slyness and beauty that they were perfectly 
 irresistible. 
 
 Sam refreshed himself with a kiss, and read as follows : 
 
 " Mark is Gran 
 t( By darken 
 
 " My dear Sammle, 
 
 " I am wery sorry tohavetheplessureof bein a Bear of ill news 
 your Mother in law cort cold consekens of imprudently settin too long 
 on the damp grass in the rain a heai in of a shepherd who warnt able to
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 555 
 
 leave off till late at night owen to his havin vound his-self up vith 
 brandy and vater and not being able to stop his-self till he got a little 
 sober which took a many hours to do the doctor says that if she'd sval- 
 lo'd varni brandy and vat*r artervards insted of afore she mightn't have 
 been no vus her veels \vos immedetly greased and everythink done to 
 set her a goin as could be inwented your farther had hopes as she vould 
 have vorked round as usual but just as she wos a turnen the corner my 
 boy she took the wrong road and vent down hill vith a welocity you 
 never see and notvithstandin that the drag was put on drectly by the 
 medikel man it wornt of no use at all for she paid the last pike at 
 tventy minutes afore six o'clock yesterday evenin havin done the jou- 
 ney wery much under the reglar time vich praps was partly owen to 
 her haven taken in wery little luggage by the vay your father says that 
 if you vill come and see me Sammy he vill take it as a wery great 
 favor for I am wery lonely Samivel N. B he vill have it spelt that 
 vay vich I say ant right and as there is sich a many things to settle 
 he is sure your guvner wont object of course he vill not Sammy for I 
 knows him better so he sends his dooty in vhich I join and am Samivel 
 infernally yours 
 
 "ToNY VELLER." 
 
 " Wot a incomprehensible letter," said Sam; "who's to know wot 
 it means vith all this he-ing and I-ing ! It ain't my father's writin' 
 'cept this here signater in print letters ; that's his." 
 
 " Perhaps he got somebody to write it for him, and signed it himself 
 afterwards," said the pretty housemaid. 
 
 " Stop a minit," replied Sam, running over the letter again, and 
 pausing here and there to reflect as he did so. " You've hit it. The 
 gen'lm'n as wrote it, wos a tellin' all about the misfortun' in a proper vay, 
 and then my father comes a lookin' over him, and complicates the whole 
 concern by puttin' his oar in. That's just the wery sort o' thing he'd 
 do. You're right, Mary, my dear." 
 
 Having satisfied himself upon this point, Sam read the letter all 
 over, once more, and, appearing to form a clear notion of its contents 
 for the first time, ejaculated thoughtfully, as he folded it up : 
 
 " And so the poor creature's dead ! I'm sorry for it. She warn't a 
 bad-disposed 'ooman if them shepherds had let her alone. I'm wery 
 sorry for it." 
 
 Mr. Weller uttered these words in so serious a manner, that the 
 pretty housemaid cast down her eyes and looked very grave. 
 
 " Hows'ever," said Sam, putting the letter in his pocket, with a gen- 
 tle sigh, "it wos to be and wos, as the old lady said arter she'd 
 married the footman, can't be helped now, can it, Mary ? " 
 
 Mary shook her head, and sighed too. 
 
 " I must apply to the hemperor for leave of absence," said Sam. 
 
 Mary sighed again, the letter was so very affecting. 
 
 " Good bye ! " said Sam. 
 
 " Good bye," rejoined the pretty housemaid, turning her head away. 
 
 " Well, shake hands, won't you ? " said Sam. 
 
 The pretty housemaid put out a hand which, although it was a 
 housemaid's, was a very small one, and rose to go.
 
 Oi>t> POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I shan't be wery long avay," said Sam. 
 
 "You're always away," said Mary, giving her head the slightest 
 possible toss in the air. " You no sooner come, Mr. Weller, than you 
 go again/' 
 
 Mr. Weller drew the household beauty closer to him, and entered 
 upon a whispering conversation, which had not proceeded far when she 
 turned her face round and condescended to look at him again. When 
 they parted it was somehow or other indispensably necessary for her to 
 go to her room, and arrange the cap and curls before she could think 
 of presenting herself to her mistress ; which preparatory ceremony 
 she went off to perform, bestowing many nods and smiles on Sam over 
 the bannisters as she tripped up stairs. 
 
 " I shan't be avay more than a day, or two, Sir, at farthest," said 
 Sam, when he had communicated to Mr. Pickwick the intelligence of 
 his father's loss. 
 
 " As long as may be necessary, Sam," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 " You have my full permission to remain." 
 
 Sam bowed. 
 
 " You will tell your father, Sam, that if I can be of any assistance 
 to him in his present situation, I shall be most willing and ready to 
 lend him any aid in my power," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Thankee, Sir,'' rejoined Sam. " I'll mention it, Sir." 
 
 And with some expressions of mutual good-will and interest, master 
 and man separated. 
 
 It was just seven o'clock when Samuel Weller, alighting from the 
 box of a stage coach which passed through Dorking, stood within a few 
 hundred yards of the Marquis of Granny. It was a cold dull evening ; 
 the little street looked dreary and dismal, and the mahogany counte- 
 nance of the noble and gallant Marquis seemed to wear a more sad and 
 melancholy expression than it was wont to do, as it swung to and fro, 
 creaking mournfully in the wind. The blinds were pulled down, and 
 the shutters partly closed ; of the knot of loungers that usually collected 
 about the door, not one was to be seen; the place was silent and 
 desolate. 
 
 Seeing nobody of whom he could ask any preliminary questions, Sam 
 walked softly in, and glancing round, he quickly recognised his parent 
 in the distance. 
 
 The widower was seated at a small round table in the little room 
 behind the bar, smoking a pipe, with his eyes intently fixed upon the 
 fire. The funeral had evidently taken place that day, for attached to 
 his hat which he still retained on his head, was a hat-band measuring 
 about a yard and a half in length, which hung over the top rail of the 
 chair and streamed negligently down. Mr. Weller was in a very 
 abstracted and contemplative mood, for notwithstanding that Sam 
 called him by name several times he still continued to smoke with the 
 same fixed and quiet countenance, and was only roused ultimately by 
 his son's placing the palm of his hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " Sammy," said Mr. Weller, " you're velcome." 
 
 " I've been a callin' to you half a dozen times," said Sam, hanging 
 his hat on a peg, " but you didn't hear me."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 557 
 
 " No, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, again looking thoughtfully at 
 the fire. " I wos in a referee, Sammy." 
 
 " Wot about ?" enquired Sam, drawing his chair up to the fire. 
 
 "In a referee, Sammy," replied the elder Mr. Weller, "regardin' 
 her, Samivel." Here Mr. Weller jerked his head in the direction of 
 Dorking churchyard, in mute explanation that his words referred to 
 the late Mrs. Weller. 
 
 " I wos a thinkin', Sammy," said Mr. Weller, eyeing his son with 
 great earnestness, over his pipe, as if to assure him that however ex- 
 traordinary and incredible the declaration might appear, it was never- 
 theless calmly and deliberately uttered, " I wos a thinkin', Sammy, 
 that upon the whole I wos wery sorry she wos gone." 
 
 " Veil, and so you ought to be," replied Sam. 
 
 Mr. Weller nodded his acquiescence in the sentiment, and again 
 fastening his eyes on the fire, shrouded himself in a cloud, and mused 
 deeply. 
 
 " Those wos wery sensible observations as she made, Sammy?" said 
 Mr. Weller, driving the smoke away with his hand, after a long 
 silence. 
 
 " Wot observations?" enquired Sam. 
 
 " Them as she made arter she was took ill," replied the old gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Wot was they ? " 
 
 " Somethin' to this here effect. { Veller,' she says, ' I'm afeard I've 
 not done by you quite wot I ought to have done; you're a wery kind- 
 hearted man, and I might ha' made your home more comfortabler. I 
 begin to see now,' she says, ' ven it's too late, that if a married "ooman 
 vishes to be religious she should begin vith dischargin' her dooties at 
 home, and makin' them as is about her cheerful and happy, and that 
 vile she goes to church, or chapel, or wot not, at all proper times, she 
 should be wery careful not to con-wert this sort o' thing into an excuse 
 for idleness or self-indulgence, orvurse. I have done this,' she says, ' and 
 I've vasted time and substance on them as has done it more than me ; 
 but I hope ven I'm gone, Veller, that you'll think on me as I wos afore 
 I know'd them people, and as I raly wos by natur.' ' Susan,' says I, 
 I wos took up very short by this, Samivel ; I von't deny it, my boy 
 'Susan,' I says, '"you've been a wery good vife to me, altogether, 
 don't say nothin' at all about it, keep a good heart my dear, and you'll 
 live to see me punch that 'ere Stiggins's head yet.' She smiled at this, 
 Samivel," said the old gentleman, stifling a sigh with his pipe, " but 
 she died arter all ! " 
 
 "Veil," said Sam, venturing to offer a little homely consolation 
 after the lapse of three or four minutes, consumed by the old gentle- 
 man in slowly shaking his head from side to side, and solemnly 
 smoking; " veil, gov'ner, ve must all come to it, one day or another." 
 
 " So we must, Sammy," said Mr. Weller the elder. 
 
 " There's a Providence in it all," said Sam. 
 
 " O' course there is," replied his father with a nod of grave approval. 
 "Wot \id become of the undertakers vithout it, Sammy ? " 
 
 Lost in the immense field of conjecture opened by this reflection,
 
 558 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 the elder Mr. Weller laid his pipe on the table, and stirred the fire 
 with a meditative visage. 
 
 While the old gentleman was thus engaged, a very buxom-looking 
 cook, dressed in mourning, who had been bustling about in the bar, 
 glided into the room, and bestowing many smirks of recognition upon 
 Sam, silently stationed herself at the back of his father's chair, and 
 announced her presence by a slight cough, the which being disregarded, 
 was followed by a louder one. 
 
 "Hallo!" said the elder Mr. Weller, dropping the poker as he 
 looked round, and hastily drew his chair k away. " Wot's the matter 
 now ? " 
 
 " Have a cup of tea, there's a good soul," replied the buxom female, 
 coaxingly. 
 
 " I von't," replied Mr. Weller, in a somewhat boisterous manner, 
 " I'll see you " Mr. Weller hastily checked himself, and added in a 
 low tone, " furder fust." 
 
 > " Oh, dear, dear ; how adversity does change people ! " said the 
 lady, looking upwards. 
 
 ' c It's the only thing 'twixt this, and the doctor as shall change my 
 condition,'' muttered Mr. Weller. 
 
 " I really never saw a man so cross," said the buxom female. 
 
 " Never mind it's all for my own good ; vich is the reflection vith 
 wich the penitent schoolboy comforted his feelin's ven they flogged 
 him," rejoined the old gentleman. 
 
 The buxom female shook her head with a compassionate and sym- 
 pathising air; and, appealing to Sam, enquired whether his father 
 really ought not to make an effort to keep up, and not give way to 
 that lowness of spirits. 
 
 " You see, Mr. Samuel," said the buxom female, " as I was telling 
 him yesterday, he will feel lonely, he can't expect but what he should, 
 Sir, but he should keep up a good heart, because, dear me, I'm sure 
 we all pity his loss, and are ready to do anything for him ; and there's 
 no situation in life so bad, Mr. Samuel, that it can't be mended, which 
 is what a very worthy person said to me when my husband died/' 
 Here the speaker, putting her hand before her mouth, coughed again, 
 and looked affectionately at the elder Mr. Weller. 
 
 "As I don't rekvire any o' your conversation just now, Mum, vill 
 you have the goodness to re-tire?" enquired Mr. Weller in a grave 
 and steady voice. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Weller," said the buxom female, " I'm sure I only 
 spoke to you out of kindness." 
 
 "Wery likely, Mum," replied Mr. Weller. " Samivel, show the 
 lady out, and shut the door arter her." 
 
 This hint was not lost upon the buxom female, for she at once left 
 the room, and slammed the door behind her, upon which Mr. Weller, 
 senior, falling back in his chair in a violent perspiration, said 
 
 " Sammy, if I wos to stop here alone vun veek only vun veek, my 
 boy that 'ere 'ooman 'ud marry me by force and wiolence afore it 
 was over." 
 
 " Wot, is she so wery fond on you ? " enquired Sam.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 559 
 
 " Fond ! " replied his father, " I can't keep her avay from me. If 
 I was locked up in a fire-proof chest vith a patent Brahmin, she'd 
 find means to get at me, Sammy." 
 
 " Wot a thing it is to be so sought arter !" observed Sam, smiling. 
 
 " I don't take no pride out on it, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, 
 poking the fire vehemently, " it's a horrid sitiwation. I'm actiwally 
 drove out o' house and home by it. The breath was scarcely out o' 
 your poor mother-in-law's body, ven vun old 'ooman sends me a pot 
 o' jam, and another a pot o' jelly, and another brews a blessed large 
 jug o' camomile-tea, vich she brings in vith her own hands." Mr. 
 Weller paused with an aspect of intense disgust, and. looking round, 
 added in a whisper, "They wos all widders, Sammy, all on 'em, 
 'cept the camomile-tea vun, as wos a single young lady o' fifty- 
 three." 
 
 Sam gave a comical look in reply, and the old gentleman having 
 broken an obstinate lump of coal, with a countenance expressive of as 
 much earnestness and malice as if it had been the head of one of the 
 widows last-mentioned, said 
 
 " In short, Sammy, I feel that I ain't safe anyveres but on the 
 box." 
 
 " How are you safer there than anyveres else ? " interrupted Sam. 
 
 " 'Cos a coachman 's a privileged indiwidual," replied Mr. Weller, 
 looking fixedly at his son. " 'Cos a coachman may do vithout suspi- 
 cion wot other men may not ; 'cos a coachman may be on the very 
 amicablest terms with eighty mile o' females, and yet nobody think 
 that he ever means to marry any vun among 'em. And wot other 
 man can say the same, Sammy ? " 
 
 " Veil, there 's somethin' in that," said Sam. 
 
 " If your gov'ner had been a coachman," reasoned Mr. Weller, " do 
 you s'pose as that 'ere jury 'ud ever ha' conwicted him, s'posin' it 
 
 rsible as the matter could ha' gone to that ex-tremity ? They dustn't 
 done it." 
 
 le Wy not?" said Sam, rather disparagingly. 
 
 ' ' Vy not ! " rejoined Mr. Weller ; " 'cos it 'ud ha' gone agin their 
 consciences. A reg'lar coachman's a sort o' con-nectin' link^betvixt 
 singleness and matrimony, and every practicable man knows it." 
 
 " Wot you mean, they're gen'ral fav'rites, and nobody takes ad wan- 
 tage on 'em, p'raps ?" said Sam. 
 
 His father nodded. 
 
 " How it ever come to that 'ere pass," resumed the parent Weller, 
 " I can't say; vy it is that long-stage coachmen possess such insiniwa- 
 tions, and is alvays looked up to a-dored I may say by ev'ry young 
 'ooman in ev r ry town he vurks through, I don't know ; I only know 
 that so it is ; it's a regulation of natur a dispensary, as your poor 
 mother-in-law used to say." 
 
 '' A dispensation," said Sam, correcting the old gentleman. 
 
 " Wery good, Samivel, a dispensation if you like it better," returned 
 Mr. Weiler ; " / call it a dispensary, and it's alvays writ up so, at the 
 places vere they gives you physic for nothin' in your own bottles ; 
 that's all." 
 
 With these words Mr. Weller re-filled and re-lighted his pipe, and
 
 560 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 once more summoning up a meditative expression of countenance, con- 
 tinued as follows : 
 
 " Therefore, my boy, as I do not see the advisability o' stoppin' here 
 to be married vether I vant to or not, and as at the same time I do not 
 vish to separate myself from them interestin' members o' society alto- 
 gether, I have come to the determination o' drivin' the Safety, and 
 puttin' up vunce more at the Bell Savage, vich is my natral-born 
 element, Sammy."' 
 
 " And wot's to become o' the bis'ness ?" enquired Sam. 
 
 " The bis'ness, Samivel," replied the old gentleman. " good- vill, 
 stock, and fixters, vill be sold by private con-tact ; and out o' the 
 money, two hundred pound, agreeable to a rekvest o' your mother-in- 
 law's to me, a little afore she died, vill be inwested in your name in 
 wot do you call them things again ': '' 
 
 " Wot things?" enquired Sam. 
 
 " Them things as is always a goin' up and down in the City." 
 
 "Omnibuses?" suggested Sam. 
 
 " Nonsense," replied Mr. Weller. " Them things as is alvays a fluc- 
 tooatin', and gettin' theirselves inwolved somehow or another vith the 
 national debt, and the checquers bills, and all that/' 
 
 " Oh ! the funds," said Sam. 
 
 " Ah !" rejoined Mr. Weller, " the funs ; two hundred pound o' the 
 money is to be inwested for you, Samivel, in the funs ; four and a half 
 per cent, reduced counsels, Sammy." 
 
 " Wery kind o' the old lady to think o' me," said Sam, " and I'm 
 wery much obliged to her." 
 
 " The rest vill i>e inwested in my name," continued the elder Mr. 
 Weller; " and ven I'm took off the road, it'll come to you, so take cars 
 you don't spend it all at vunst, my boy> and mind that no widder gets 
 a inklin' o' your fortun', or you're done." 
 
 Having delivered this warning, Mr. Weller resumed his pipe with a 
 more serene countenance ; the disclosure of these matters appearing to 
 have eased his mind considerably. 
 
 " Somebody's a tappin' at the door," said Sam. 
 
 " Let 'em tap," replied his father, with dignity. 
 
 Sam acted upon the direction : upon which there was another tap, and 
 another, and then a long row of taps ; upon which Sam enquired why 
 the tapper was not admitted. 
 
 " Hush," whispered Mr. Weller, with apprehensive looks, "don't 
 take no notice on 'em, Sammy, it's vun o' the widders, p'raps." 
 
 No notice being taken of the taps, the unseen visitor, after a short 
 lapse, ventured to open the door and peep in. It was no female head 
 that was thrust in at the partially opened door, but the long black 
 locks and red face of Air. Stiggins. Mr. Weller 's pipe fell from his 
 hands. 
 
 The reverend gentleman gradually opened the door by almost im- 
 perceptible degrees, until the aperture was just wide enough to admit 
 of the passage of his lank body, when he glided into the room and 
 closed it after him with great care and gentleness. Turning towards 
 Sam, and raising his hands and eyes in token of the unspeakable sorrow
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 561 
 
 with which he regarded the calamity that had befallen the family, he 
 carried the high-backed chair to his old corner by the fire, and sitting 
 himself down on the very edge of the seat, drew forth a brown pocket 
 handkerchief, and applied the same to his optics. 
 
 While this was going forward, the elder Mr. Weller sat back in his 
 chair with his eyes wide open, his hands planted on his knees, and his 
 whole countenance expressive of absorbing and overwhelming astonish- 
 ment. Sam sat opposite him in perfect silence, waiting with eager 
 curiosity for the termination of the scene. 
 
 Mr. Stiggins kept the brown pocket-handkerchief before his eyes for 
 some minutes, moaning decently meanwhile, and then, mastering his 
 feelings by a strong effort, put it in his pocket and buttoned it up. 
 After this he stirred the fire ; after that he rubbed his hands and looked 
 at Sam. 
 
 " Oh my young friend," said Mr. Stiggins, breaking the silence in. a 
 very low voice, " here's a sorrowful affliction." 
 
 Sam nodded very slightly. 
 
 " For the man of wrath, too!" added Mr. Stiggins; " it makes a 
 vessel's heart bleed !" 
 
 Mr. Weller was overheard by his son to murmur something relative 
 to making a vessel's nose bleed ; but Mr. Stiggins heard him not. 
 
 " Do you know, young man," whispered Mr. Stiggins, drawing his 
 chair closer to Sam,"" whether she has left Emanuel anything }" 
 
 '- Who's he ? " enquired Sam. 
 
 " The chapel/' replied Mr. Stiggins ; " our chapel ; our fold, Mr. 
 Samuel." 
 
 " She hasn't left the fold nothin', nor the shepherd nothin', nor the 
 animals nothin', " said Sam, decisively ; " nor the dogs neither." 
 
 Mr. Stiggins looked slyly at Sam, glanced at the old gentleman, 
 who was sitting with his eyes closed, as if asleep ; and drawing his chair 
 still nearer, said, 
 
 " Nothing for me, Mr. Samuel ? " 
 
 Sam shook his head. 
 
 " I think there's something," said Stiggins, turning as pale as he 
 could turn. " Consider, Mr. Samuel ; no little token ? " 
 
 " Not so much as the vurth o' that 'ere old umberella o' yourn," 
 replied Sam. 
 
 "Perhaps," said Mr. Stiggins, hesitatingly, after a few moments' 
 deep thought, " perhaps she recommended me to the care of the man 
 of wrath, Mr. Samuel ? " 
 
 " I think that's wery likely, from what he said," rejoined Sam; " he 
 wos a speakin' about you, jLt now." 
 
 "Was he, though?" exclaimed Stiggins, brightening up. "Ah! 
 He's changed, I dare say. We might live very comfortably together 
 now, Mr. Samuel, eh ? I could take care of his property when you are 
 away good care, you see." 
 
 Heaving a long-'drawn sigh, Mr. Stiggins paused for a response. Sam 
 nodded, and Mr. Weller, the elder, gave vent to an extraordinary sound, 
 which, being neither a groan, nor a grunt, nor a gasp, nor a growl, 
 seemed to partake in some degree of the character of all four.
 
 562 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. Stiggins, encouraged by this sound, which he understood to be- 
 token remorse or repentance, looked about him, rubbed his hands, 
 wept, smiled, wept again, and then, walking softly across the room to a 
 well-remembered shelf in one corner, took down a tumbler, and, with 
 great deliberation, put four lumps of sugar in it. Having got thus 
 far, he looked about him again and sighed grievously ; with that he 
 walked softly into the bar, and presently returning with the tumbler half 
 full of pine-apple rum, advanced to the kettle which was singing gaily 
 on the hob, mixed his grog, stirred it, sipped it, sat down, and taking 
 a long and hearty pull at the rum and water, stopped for breath. 
 
 The elder Mr. Weller, who still continued to make various strange 
 and uncouth attempts to appear asleep, offered not a single word during 
 these proceedings, but when Mr. Stiggins stopped for breath, he darted 
 upon him, and snatching the tumbler from his hand, threw the re- 
 mainder of the rum and water in his face, and the glass itself into 
 the grate. Then, seizing the reverend gentleman firmly by the collar, 
 he suddenly fell to kicking him most furiously, accompanying every 
 application" of his top-boot to Mr. Stiggins's person with sundry violent 
 and incoherent anathemas upon his limbs, eyes, and body. 
 
 "Sammy," said Mr. Weller, ' f put my hat on tight for me." 
 
 Sam dutifully adjusted the hat with the long hatband more firmly 
 on his father's head, and the old gentleman, resuming his kicking with 
 greater agility than before, tumbled with Mr. Stiggins through the 
 bar, and through the passage, out at the front door, and so into the 
 street ; the kicking continuing the whole way, and increasing in 
 vehemence, rather than diminishing, every time the top-boot was lifted 
 up. 
 
 It was a beautiful and exhilarating sight to see the red-nosed man 
 writhing in Mr. Weller's grasp, and his whole frame quivering with 
 anguish as kick followed kick in rapid succession ; it was a still more 
 exciting spectacle to behold Mr. Weller, after a powerful struggle, 
 immersing Mr. .Stiggins's head in a horse-trough full of water, and 
 holding it there, till he was all but suffocated. 
 
 " There,'' said Mr. Weller, throwing all his energy into one most 
 complicated kick, as he at length permitted Mr. Stiggins to with- 
 draw his head from the trough, " send any vun o' them lazy shepherds 
 here, and I'll pound him to a jelly first, and drownd him artervards. 
 Sammy, help me in, and fill me a small glass of brandy. I'm out o' 
 breath, my boy."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 563 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 COMPRISING THE FINAL EXIT OF MR. JINGLE AND JOB TROTTER ; 
 WITH A GREAT MORNING OF BUSINESS IN CRAY'S INN SQUARE. 
 CONCLUDING WITH A DOUBLE KNOCK AT MR. PERKER*S DOOR. 
 
 WHEN Arabella, after some gentle preparation, and many assurances 
 that there was not the least occasion for being low-spirited, was at 
 length made acquainted by Mr. Pickwick with the unsatisfactory result 
 of his visit to Birmingha'm, she burst into tears, and sobbing aloud, 
 lamented in moving terms that she should have been the unhappy cause 
 of any estrangement between a father and his son. 
 
 "My dear girl," said Mr. Pickwick, kindly, " it is no fault of yours. 
 It was impossible to foresee that the old gentleman would be so strongly 
 prepossessed against his son's marriage, you know. I am sure," 
 added Mr. Pickwick, glancing at her pretty face, " he can have very 
 little idea of the pleasure he denies himself." 
 
 " Oh my dear Mr. Pickwick," said Arabella, "what shall we do, if 
 he continues to be angry with us?" 
 
 "Why, wait patiently, my dear, until he thinks better of it/' replied 
 Mr. Pickwick, cheerfully. 
 
 " But dear Mr. Pickwick, what is to become of Nathaniel if his 
 father withdraws his assistance ? " urged Arabella. 
 
 " In that case, my love," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, " I will venture to 
 prophecy that he will find some other friend who will not be backward 
 in helping him to start in the world." 
 
 The significance of this reply was not so well disguised by Mr. 
 Pickwick but that Arabella understood it. So throwing her arms 
 round his neck, and kissing him affectionately, she sobbed louder than 
 before. 
 
 " Come, come," said Mr. Pickwick, taking her hand, " we will wait 
 here a few days longer, and see whether he writes or takes any other 
 notice of your husband's communication. If not, I have thought of 
 half a dozen plans, any one of which would make you happy at once. 
 There, my dear there." 
 
 With these words, Mr. Pickwick gently pressed Arabella's hand, 
 and bade her dry her eyes, and not distress her husband. Upon which. 
 Arabella, who was one of the best little creatures alive, put her hand- 
 kerchief in her reticule, and by the time Mr. Winkle joined them, 
 exhibited in full lustre the same beaming smiles and sparkling eyes 
 that had originally captivated him. 
 
 " This is a distressing predicament for these young people," thought 
 Mr. Pickwick, as he dressed himself next moining. " 1 11 walk up to 
 Perker's, and consult him about the matter." 
 
 R R
 
 564 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 As Mr. Pickwick was further prompted to betake himself to Gray's 
 Inn Square by an anxious desire to come to a pecuniary settlement with 
 the kind-hearted little attorney without further delay, he made a 
 hurried breakfast, and executed his intention so speedily that ten 
 o'clock had not struck when he reached Gray's Inn. 
 
 It still wanted ten minutes to the hour when he had ascended the 
 staircase on which Perker's chambers were. The clerks had not 
 arrived yet, and he beguiled the time by looking out of the staircase 
 window. 
 
 The healthy light of a fine October morning made even the dingy old 
 Louses brighten up a little : some of the dusty windows actually look- 
 ing almost cheerful as the sun's rays gleamed upon them. Clerk after 
 clerk hastened into the square by one or other of the entrances, and 
 looking up at the Hall clock, accelerated or decreased his rate of walk- 
 ing according to the time at which his office hours nominally com- 
 menced; the half-past nine o'clock people suddenly becoming very 
 brisk, and the ten o'clock gentlemen falling into a pace of most aris- 
 tocratic slowness. The clock struck ten, and clerks poured in faster 
 than ever, each one in a greater perspiration than his predecessor. The 
 noise of unlocking and opening doors echoed and re-echoed on every 
 side, heads appeared as if by magic in every window, the porters took 
 up their stations for the day, the slipshod laundresses hurried off, the 
 postman ran from house to house, and the whole legal hive was in a 
 bustle. 
 
 " You're early, Mr. Pickwick," said a voice behind him. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Lowten," replied that gentleman, looking round, and 
 recognising his old acquaintance. 
 
 " Precious warm walking, isn't it ?" said Lowten, drawing a Bramah 
 key from his pocket, with a small plug therein, to keep the dust out. 
 
 " You appear to feel it so," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, smiling at the 
 clerk, who was literally red hot. 
 
 " I've come along, rather, I can tell you," replied Lowten. " It 
 went the half hour as I came through the Polygon. I'm here before 
 him, though, so I don't mind." 
 
 Comforting himself with this reflection, Mr. Lowten extracted the 
 plug from the door key ; having opened the door, replugged and re- 
 pocketed his Bramah, and picked up the letters which the postman 
 had dropped through the box, he ushered Mr. Pickwick into the office. 
 Here, in the twinkling of an eye, he divested himself of his coat, put 
 on a thread-bare garment, which he took out of a desk, hung up his 
 hat, pulled forth a few sheets of cartridge and blotting paper in alter- 
 nate layers, and sticking a pen behind his ear, rubbed his hands with 
 an air of great satisfaction. 
 
 "There you see, Mr. Pickwick,'' he said, "now I'm complete. I've 
 
 rmy office coat on, and my pad out, and let him come as soon as 
 likes. You haven't got a pinch of snuff about you, have you ? " 
 " No, I have not," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I'm sorry for it," said Lowten. " Never mind 1 11 run out pre- 
 sently, and get a bottle of soda. Don't I look rather queer about the 
 eyes, Mr. Pickwick ?"
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 565 
 
 The individual appealed to, surveyed Mr. Lowten's eyes from a 
 distance, and expressed his opinion that no unusual queerness was 
 perceptible in those features. 
 
 "I'm glad of it/' said Lowten. " We were keeping it up pretty 
 tolerably at the Stump last night, and I'm rather out of sorts this 
 morning. Perker's been about that business of yours, by the bye." 
 
 "What business?" enquired Mr. Pickwick "Mrs. Bardell's 
 costs ? " 
 
 " No, I don't mean that," replied Lowten. " About getting that 
 customer that we paid the ten shillings in the pound to the bill dis- 
 counter for, on your account to get him out of the Fleet, you know 
 about getting him to Demerara." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Jingle," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily. " Yes. Well ? " 
 
 " Well, it's all arranged," said Lowten, mending his pen. " The 
 agent at Liverpool said he had been obliged to you many times when 
 you were in business, and he would be glad to take him on your 
 recommendation." 
 
 " That's well," said Mr. Pickwick. " I am delighted to hear it." 
 
 " But I say," resumed Lowten, scraping the back of the pen pre- 
 paratory to making a fresh split, " what a soft chap that other is ! " 
 
 "Which other?" 
 
 "Why, that servant, or friend, or whatever he is you know; 
 Trotter." 
 
 " Ah ?" said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile. " I always thought him 
 the very reverse." 
 
 " Well, and so did I, from what little I saw of him," replied 
 Lowten, " it only shows how one may be deceived. What do you 
 think of his going to Demerara, too ? " 
 
 " What ! and giving up what was offered him here ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Treating Perker's offer of eighteen bob a-week, and a rise if he 
 behaved himself, like dirt," replied Lowten. " He said he must go 
 along with the other one, and so they persuaded Perker to write again, 
 and they've got him something on the same estate ; not near so good, 
 Perker says, as a convict would get in New South Wales, if he 
 appeared at his trial in a new suit of clothes." 
 
 " Foolish fellow," said Mr. Pickwick, with glistening eyes. " Foolish 
 fellow." 
 
 " Oh, it's worse than foolish ; it's downright sneaking, you know," 
 replied Lowten, nibbing the pen with a contemptuous face. " He says 
 that he's the only friend he ever had, and he's attached to him, and all 
 that. Friendship's a very good thing in its way; we are all very 
 friendly and comfortable at the Stump, for instance, over our grog, 
 where every man pays for himself, but damn hurting yourself for any- 
 body else, you know ! No man should have more than two attachments 
 the first, to number one, and the second to the ladies; that's what I 
 say ha! ha!" Mr. Lowten concluded with a loud laugh, half in 
 jocularity, and half in derision, which was prematurely cut short by the 
 sound of Perker's footsteps on the stairs, at the very first approach of 
 R 11 2
 
 566 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 which he vaulted on his stool with an agility most remarkable, and 
 wrote intensely. 
 
 The greeting between Mr. Pickwick and his professional adviser was 
 warm and cordial ; the client was scarcely ensconced in the attorney's 
 arm chair, however, when a knock was heard at the door, and a voice 
 enquired whether Mr. Perker was within. 
 
 "Hark!"' said Perker, "that's one of our vagabond friends- 
 Jingle himself, my dear Sir. Will you see him ? " 
 
 "What do you think? " enquired Mr. Pickwick, hesitating. 
 
 " Yes, I think you had better. Here, you sir, what's your name, 
 walk in, will you?" 
 
 In compliance with this unceremonious invitation, Jingle and Job 
 walked into the room, but, seeing Mr. Pickwick, stopped short in some 
 confusion. 
 
 " Well," said Perker, " don't you know that gentleman ? " 
 
 " Good reason to," replied Jingle, stepping forward. " Mr. Pick- 
 wick deepest obligations life preserver made a man of me you 
 shall never repent it, Sir." 
 
 " I am happy to hear you say so,'' said Mr. Pickwick. " You look 
 much better." 
 
 "Thanks to you, Sir great change Majesty's fleet unwholesome 
 place very," said Jingle, shaking his head. He was decently and 
 cleanly dressed, and so was Job, who stood bolt upright behind him, 
 staring at Mr. Pickwick with a visage of iron. 
 
 " When do they go to Liverpool ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick, half 
 aside to Perker. 
 
 " This evening, Sir, at seven o'clock," said Job, taking one step for- 
 ward. " By the heavy coach from the city, Sir." 
 
 " Are your places taken ? " 
 
 " They are, Sir," replied Job. 
 
 " You have fully made up your mind to go ? " 
 
 " I have, Sir," answered Job. 
 
 " With regard to such an outfit as was indispensable for Jingle," said 
 Perker, addressing Mr. Pickwick aloud, "1 have taken upon myself to 
 make an arrangement for the deduction of a small sum from his 
 quarterly salary, which, being made for only one year, and regularly 
 remitted, will provide for that expense. I entirely disapprove of your 
 doing anything for him, my dear Sir, which is not dependent on his 
 own exertions and good conduct." 
 
 " Certainly," interposed Jingle, with great firmness. " Clear head 
 man of the world quite right perfectly.'' 
 
 " By compounding with his creditor, releasing his clothes from the 
 pawnbroker's, relieving him in prison, and paying for his passage," con- 
 tinued Perker, without noticing Jingle's observation, " you have already 
 lost upwards of fifty pounds." 
 
 " Not lost," said Jingle, hastily. " Pay it all stick to business 
 cash up every farthing. Yellow fever, perhaps can't help that if 
 not " Here Mr. Jingle paused, and striking the crown of his hat 
 with great violence, passed his hand over his eyes, and sat down.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 567 
 
 "He means to say," said Job, advancing a few paces, "that if 
 he is not carried off by the fever, he will pay the money back again. 
 If he lives, he will, Mr. Pickwick. I will see it done. I know 
 he will, Sir," said Job, with great energy. " I could undertake to 
 swear it." 
 
 " Well, well,'' said Mr. Pickwick, who had been bestowing a score 
 or two of frowns upon Perker, to stop his summary of beneh'ts con- 
 ferred, which the little attorney obstinately disregarded, " you must be 
 careful not to play any more desperate cricket matches, Mr. Jingle, or 
 to renew your acquaintance with Sir Thomas Blazo, and I have little 
 doubt of your preserving your health." 
 
 Mr. Jingle smiled at this sally, but looked rather foolish notwith- 
 standing, so Mr. Pickwick changed the subject by saying, 
 
 " You don't happen to know, do you, what has become of another 
 friend of yours -a more humble one, whom I saw at Rochester ?" 
 
 "Dismal Jemmy?" enquired Jingle. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Jingle shook his head. 
 
 "Clever rascal queer fellow, hoaxing genius Job's brother." 
 
 " Job's brother ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick. " Well, now I look at 
 him closely, there is a likeness." 
 
 "We were always considered like each other, Sir," said Job, with a 
 cunning look just lurking in the corners of his eyes, " only I was really 
 of a serious nature, and he never was. He emigrated to America, Sir, 
 in consequence of being too much sought after here, to be comfortable ; 
 and has never been heard of since." 
 
 " That accounts for my not having received the ' page from the 
 romance of real life,' which he promised me one morning when he 
 appeared to be contemplating suicide on Rochester Bridge, I suppose,' 5 
 said Mr. Pickwick, smiling. " I need not enquire whether his dismal 
 behaviour was natural or assumed/' 
 
 " He could assume anything, Sir,'' said Job. "You may consider 
 yourself very fortunate in having escaped him so easily. On intimate 
 terms he would have been even a more dangerous acquaintance than " 
 Job looked at Jingle, hesitated, and finally added, " than than 
 myself even." 
 
 " A hopeful family yours, Mr. Trotter,'' said Perker, sealing a letter 
 which he had just finished writing. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," replied Job. " Very much so." 
 
 "Well," said the little man, laughing; "I hope you are going 
 to disgrace it. Deliver this letter to the agent when you reach Liver- 
 pool, and let me advise you, gentlemen, not to be too knowing in the 
 West Indies. If you throw away this chance, you will both richly 
 deserve to be hanged, as I sincerely trust you will be. And now you 
 had better leave Mr. Pickwick and me alone, for we have other mat- 
 ters to talk over, and time is precious." As Perker said this, he looked 
 towards the door with an evident desire to render the leave-taking as 
 brief as possible. 
 
 It was brief enough on Mr. Jingle's part. He thanked the little 
 attorney in a few hurried words for the kindness and promptitude with
 
 568 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 which he had rendered his assistance, and, turning to his bene- 
 factor, stood for a few seconds as if irresolute what to say or how 
 to act. Job Trotter relieved his perplexity, for with a humble, grate- 
 ful bow to Mr. Pickwick, he took his friend gently by the arm, and 
 led him away. 
 
 " A worthy couple," said Perker, as the door closed behind them. 
 
 " I hope they may become so," replied Mr. Pickwick. " What do 
 you think ? Is there any chance of their permanent reformation ?" 
 
 Perker shrugged his shoulders doubtfully, but observing Mr. Pick- 
 wick's anxious and disappointed look, rejoined 
 
 " Of course there is a chance. I hope it may prove a good one. 
 They are unquestionably penitent now ; but then, you know, they have 
 the recollection of very recent suffering fresh upon them. What they 
 may become when that fades away, is a problem that neither you nor I 
 can solve. However, my dear Sir," added Perker, laying his hand on 
 Mr. Pickwick's shoulder, " your object is equally honourable, whatever 
 the result is. Whether that species of benevolence which is so very 
 cautious and long-sighted that it is seldom exercised at all, lest its 
 owner should be imposed npon, and so wounded in his self-lore, be 
 real charity, or a worldly counterfeit, I leave to wiser heads than mine 
 to determine. But if those two fellows were to commit a burglary to- 
 morrow, my opinion of this action would be equally high." 
 
 With these remarks, which were delivered in a much more 
 animated and earnest manner than is usual in legal gentlemen, Perker 
 drew his chair to his desk, and listened to Mr. Pickwick's recital of 
 old Mr. Winkle's obstinacy. 
 
 " Give him a week," said Perker, nodding his head prophetically. 
 
 " Do you think he will come round ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I think he will," rejoined Perker. " If not, we must try the 
 young lady's persuasion ; and that is what any body but you would have 
 done at first." 
 
 Mr. Perker was taking a pinch of snuff with various grotesque con- 
 tractions of countenance, eulogistic of the persuasive powers appertain- 
 ing unto young ladies, when the murmur of enquiry and answer was 
 heard in the outer office, and Lowten tapped at the door. 
 
 " Come in," cried the little man. 
 
 The clerk came in, and shut the door after him with great mystery. 
 
 "What's the matter?" enquired Perker. 
 
 " You're wanted, Sir." 
 
 " Who wants me ?" 
 
 Lowten looked at Mr. Pickwick and coughed. 
 
 "Who wants me? can't you speak, Mr. Lowten? " 
 
 <e Why, Sir," replied Lowten, " It's Mr. Dodson ; and Mr. Fogg is 
 with him/' 
 
 "Bless my life!" said the little man, looking at his. watch, "I 
 appointed them to be here at half-past eleven to settle that matter of 
 yours, Pickwick. I gave them an undertaking on which they sent 
 down your discharge; it's very awkward, my dear Sir; ahat will you 
 do ? Would you like to step into the next room ?" 
 
 The next room being the identical room in which Messrs. Dodson,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 569 
 
 and Fogg were, Mr. Pickwick replied that he would remain where he 
 was, the more especially as Messrs. Dodson and Fogg ought to be 
 ashamed to look him in the face, instead of his being ashamed to see 
 them ; which latter circumstance he begged Mr. Perker to note, with, 
 a glowing countenance and many marks of indignation. 
 
 " Very well, my dear Sir, very well," replied Perker, " I can only- 
 say, that if you expect either Dodson or Fogg to exhibit any symptom 
 of shame or confusion at having to look you, or anybody else, in the 
 face, you are the most sanguine man in your expectations that / ever 
 met with. Show them in, Mr. Lowten." 
 
 Mr. Loivten disappeared with a grin, and immediately returned 
 ushering in the firm, in due form of precedence Dodson first, and 
 Fogg afterwards. 
 
 . " You have seen Mr. Pickwick, I believe ? " said Perker to Dodson, 
 inclining his pen in the direction where that gentleman was seated. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Pickwick ? " said Dodson in a loud voice. 
 
 "Dear me," cried Fcgg, "how do you do, Mr. Pickwick? I hope 
 you are well, Sir. I thought I knew the face," said Fogg, drawing 
 up a chair, and looking round him with a smile. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick bent his head very slightly in answer to these salu- 
 tations, and, seeing Fogg pull a bundle of papers from his coat -pocket, 
 rose and walked to the window. 
 
 " There's no occasion for Mr. Pickwick to move, Mr. Perker," said 
 Fogg, untying the red tape which encircled the little bundle, and 
 smiling again, more sweetly than before. " Mr. Pickwick is pretty 
 well acquainted with these proceedings, there are no secrets between 
 us I think. He! he! he!" 
 
 " Not many, I think," said Dodson. " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " Then both 
 the partners laughed together pleasantly and cheerfully, as men who 
 are going to receive money often do. 
 
 " We shall make Mr! Pickwick pay for peeping," said Fogg with 
 considerable native humour, as he unfolded his papers. "The amount 
 of the taxed costs is one hundred and thirty-three, six and fourpence, 
 Mr. Perker." 
 
 There was a great comparing of papers and turning over of leaves 
 by Fogg and Perker after this statement of profit and loss, during 
 which Dodson said in an aifable manner to Mr. Pickwick 
 
 "I don't think you are looking quite so stout as when I had the 
 pleasure of seeing you last, Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 " Possibly not, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick, who had been flashing 
 forth looks of fierce indignation without producing the smallest effect 
 on either of the sharp practitioners ; " I believe I am not, Sir. I have 
 been persecuted and annoyed by scoundrels of late, Sir." 
 
 Perker coughed violently, and asked Mr. Pickwick whether lie 
 wouldn't like to look at the morning paper, to which enquiry Mr. 
 Pickwick returned a most decided negative. 
 
 " True,'' said Dodson, " I dare say you have been annoyed in the 
 Fleet ; there are some odd gentry there. Whereabouts were your 
 apartments, Mr. Pickwick ? "
 
 570 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " My one room," replied that much-injnred gentleman, " was on the 
 Coffee Room flight." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " said Dodson. " I believe that is a very pleasant 
 part of the establishment." 
 
 "Very," replied Mr. Pickwick drily. 
 
 There was a coolness about all this, which to a gentleman of an 
 excitable temperament had, under the circumstances, rather an exaspe- 
 rating tendency. Mr. Pickwick restrained his wrath by gigantic 
 efforts, but when Perker wrote a cheque for the whole amount, and 
 Fogg deposited it in a small pocket-book, with a triumphant smile 
 playing over his pimply features, which communicated itself likewise 
 to the stern countenance of Dodson, he felt the blood in his cheeks 
 tingling with indignation. 
 
 " Now Mr. Dodson," said Fogg, putting up the pocket-book and 
 drawing on his gloves, " I am at your service." 
 
 " Very good,'' said Dodson, rising, " I am quite ready." 
 " I am very happy," said Fogg, softened by the cheque, " to have 
 had the pleasure of making Mr. Pickwick's acquaintance. I hope you 
 don't think quite so badly of us, Mr. Pickwick, as when we first had 
 the pleasure of seeing you." 
 
 " I hope not," said Dodson, with the high tone of calumniated 
 virtue. "Mr. Pickwick now knows us better, I trust; whatever 
 your opinion of gentlemen of our profession may be, I beg to assure 
 you, Sir, that I bear no ill-will or vindictive feeling towards you for 
 the sentiments you thought proper to express in our office in Freeman's 
 Court, Cornhill, on the occasion to which my partner has referred." 
 " Oh no, no ; nor I," said Fogg, in a most forgiving manner. 
 " Our conduct, Sir," said Dodson, " will speak for itself, and justify 
 itself I hope, upon every occasion. We have been in the profession 
 some years, Mr. Pickwick, and have been honoured with the confidence 
 of many excellent clients. I wish you good morning, Sir." 
 
 '' Good morning, Mr. Pickwick," said Fogg; and so saying lie put 
 his umbrella under his arm, drew off his right glove, and extended the 
 hand of reconciliation to that most indignant gentleman, who there- 
 upon thrust his hands beneath his coat tails, and eyed the attorney 
 with looks of scornful amazement. 
 
 '' Lowten ! " cried Perker at this moment, " open the door." 
 " Wait one instant," said Mr. Pickwick, " Perker, I will speak." 
 " My dear Sir, pray let the matter rest where it is," said the little 
 attorney, who had been in a state of nervous apprehension during the 
 whole interview ; " Mr. Pickwick, I beg " 
 
 " I will not be put down, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick hastily. 
 " Mr. Dodson, you have addressed some remarks to me." 
 Dodson turned round, bent his head meekly, and smiled. 
 " Some remarks to me," repeated Mr. Pickwick, almost breathless, 
 " and your partner has tendered me his hand, and you have both as- 
 sumed a tone of forgiveness and high-mindedness, which is an extent of 
 impudence that I was not prepared for, even in you." 
 " What, Sir ! " exclaimed Dodson. 
 " What, Sir ! " reiterated Fogg.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 571 
 
 " Do you know that I have been the victim of your plots and 
 conspiracies?" continued Mr. Pickwick. "Do you know that I am 
 the man whom you have been imprisoning and robbing ? Do you 
 know that you were the attorneys for the plaintiff in Bardell and 
 Pickwick " 
 
 "Yes, Sir, we do know it," replied Dodson. 
 
 " Of course we know it, Sir," rejoined Fogg, slapping his pocket 
 perhaps by accident. 
 
 " I see that you recollect it with satisfaction," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 attempting to call up a sneer for the first time in his life, and failing 
 most signally in so doing. " Although I have long been anxious to 
 tell you in plain terms what my opinion of you is, I should have let 
 even" this opportunity pass in deference to my friend Perker's wishes, 
 but for the unwarrantable tone you have assumed, and your insolent 
 familiarity I say insolent familiarity, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, turn- 
 ing upon Fogg with a fierceness of gesture which caused that person to 
 retreat towards the door with great expedition. 
 
 " Take care, Sir," said Dodson, who, although he was the biggest 
 man of the party, had prudently intrenched himself behind Fogg, and 
 was speaking over his head with a very pale face. " Let him assault 
 you, Mr. Fogg ; don't return it on any account." 
 
 " No, no, I won't return it," said Fogg, falling back a little more 
 as he spoke ; to the evident relief of his partner, who by these means 
 was gradually getting into the outer office. 
 
 " You are," continued Mr. Pickwick, resuming the thread of his 
 discourse, u you are a well-matched pair of mean, rascally, pettifogging 
 robbers." 
 
 " Well," interposed Perker, " is that all ?" 
 
 "It is all summed up in that," rejoined Mr. Pickwick; " they are 
 mean, rascally, pettifogging robbers." 
 
 " There," said Perker, in a most conciliatory tone, " my dear Sirs, 
 he has said all he has to say : now pray go. Lowten., is that door 
 open ? " 
 
 Mr. Lowten, with a distant giggle, replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " There, there good morning good morning now pray, my dear 
 Sirs, Mr. Lowten, the door," cried the little man, pushing Dodson 
 and Fogg, nothing loth, out of the office, " this way, my dear Sirs, 
 now pray don't prolong this dear me Mr. Lowten the door, Sir, 
 why don't you attend ? " 
 
 "If there's law in England, Sir," said Dodson, looking towards Mr. 
 Pickwick, as he put on his hat, " you shall smart for this.' 5 
 
 " You are a couple of mean " 
 
 "Remember, Sir, you pay dearly for this," said Fogg, shaking his 
 fist. 
 
 " Rascally, pettifogging robbers !" continued Mr. Pickwick, taking 
 not the least notice of the threats that were addressed to him. 
 
 "Robbers ! '' cried Mr. Pickwick, running to the stair-head, as the 
 two attorneys descended. 
 
 " Robbers ! " shouted Mr. Pickwick, breaking from Lowten and 
 Perker, and thrusting his head out of the staircase window.
 
 572 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 When Mr. Pickwick drew in his head again, his countenance was 
 smiling and placid ; and, walking quietly back into the office, he 
 declared that he had now removed a great weight from his mind, and 
 that he felt perfectly comfortable and happy. 
 
 Perker said nothing at all until he had emptied his snuff-box and 
 sent Lowten out to fill it, when he was seized with a fit of laughing, 
 which lasted for five minutes, at the expiration of which time he said 
 that he supposed he ought to be very angry, but he couldn't think of 
 the business seriously yet when he could, he would be. 
 
 " Well, now," said Mr. Pickwick, " let me have a settlement with, 
 you." 
 
 " Of the same kind as the last ?" enquired Perker, with another 
 laugh. 
 
 " Not exactly," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, drawing out his pocket- 
 book, and shaking the little man heartily by the hand, " I only mean 
 a pecuniary settlement. You have done me many acts of kindness 
 that I can never repay, and have no wish to, for I prefer continuing 
 the obligation. 5 ' 
 
 With this preface the two friends dived into some very complicated 
 accounts and vouchers, which having been duly displayed and gone 
 through by Perker, were at once discharged by" Mr. Pickwick, with 
 many professions of esteem and friendship. 
 
 They had no sooner arrived at this point, than a most violent and 
 startling knocking was heard at the door ; it was not an ordinary 
 double knock, but a constant and uninterrupted succession of the loud- 
 est single raps, as if the knocker were endowed with the perpetual 
 motion, or the person outside had forgotten to leave off. 
 
 "Dear me, what's that !" exclaimed Perker, starting. 
 
 " I think it is a knock at the door," said Mr. Pickwick, as if there 
 could be the smallest doubt of the fact ! 
 
 The knocker made a more energetic reply than words could have 
 yielded, for it continued to hammer with surprising force and noise, 
 without a moment's cessation 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Perker, ringing his bell, " we shall alarm the Inn. 
 Mr. Lowten, don't you hear a knock?" 
 
 " I'll answer the door in one moment, Sir," replied the clerk. 
 
 The knocker appeared to hear the response, and to assert that it 
 was quite impossible he could wait so long. It made a stupendous 
 uproar. 
 
 " It's quite dreadful," said Mr. Pickwick, stopping his ears. 
 
 " Make haste, Mr. Lowten,'' Perker called out, " we shall have the 
 pannels beaten in." 
 
 Mr. Lowten, who was washing his hands in a dark closet, hurried to 
 the door, and turning the handle, beheld the appearance which is 
 described in the next chapter.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 573 
 
 CHAPTER LIU. 
 
 CONTAINING SOME PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO THE DOUBLE 
 KNOCK, AND OTHER MATTERS, AMONG WHICH CERTAIN INTE- 
 RESTING DISCLOSURES RELATIVE TO MR. SNODGRASS AND A 
 YOUNG LADY ARE BY NO MEANS IRRELEVANT TO THIS HIS- 
 TORY. 
 
 THE object that presented itself to the eyes of the astonished clerk 
 was a boy a wonderfully fat boy habited as a serving lad, standing 
 upright on the mat, with his eyes closed as if in sleep. He had never 
 seen such a fat boy in or out of a travelling caravan ; and this, cou- 
 pled with the utter calmness and repose of his appearance, so very- 
 different from what was reasonably to have been expected of the in- 
 Hicter of such knocks, smote him with wonder. 
 
 "What's the matter? " enquired the clerk. 
 
 The extraordinary boy replied not a word, but he nodded once, and 
 seemed, to the clerk's imagination, to snore feebly. 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " enquired the clerk. 
 
 The boy made no sign. He breathed heavily, but in all other 
 respects was motionless. 
 
 The clerk repeated the question thrice, and receiving no answer, 
 prepared to shut the door, when the boy suddenly opened his eyes, 
 winked several times, sneezed once, and raised his hand as if to repeat 
 the knocking. Finding the door open he stared about him with great 
 astonishment, and at length fixed his eyes on Mr. Lowten's face. 
 
 " What the devil do you knock in that way for ? '' enquired the 
 clerk, angrily. 
 
 " What w'ay ? " said the boy in a slow, sleepy voice. 
 
 '* Why, like forty hackney coachmen," replied the clerk. 
 
 " Because master said I wasn't to leave off knocking till they opened 
 the door, for fear I should go to sleep,'' said the boy. 
 
 " Well," said the clerk, " what message have you brought ? " 
 
 " He's down stairs," rejoined the boy. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Master. He wants to know whether you're at home." 
 
 Mr. Lowten bethought himself at this juncture of looking out of the 
 window. Seeing an open carriage with a hearty old gentleman in it, 
 looking up very anxiously, he ventured to beckon him, on which the 
 old gentleman jumped out directly. 
 
 " That's your master in the carriage, I suppose ? " said Lowten. 
 
 The boy nodded. 
 
 All further enquiries were superseded by the appearance of old 
 Wardle, who, running up stairs and just recognising Lowten, passed 
 at once into Mr. Perker's room.
 
 574 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Pickwick ! " said the old gentleman, " your hand, my boy ; why 
 have I never heard till the day before yesterday of your suffering your- 
 self to be cooped up in jail ? and why "did you let him do it, Perker ? ** 
 
 " I couldn't help it, my dear Sir," replied Perker, with a smile and 
 a pinch of snuff, " you know how obstinate he is." 
 
 " Of course I do, of course I do," replied the old gentleman, " I am 
 heartily glad to see him, notwithstanding. I will not lose sight of him 
 again in a hurry.' 5 
 
 With these words, "VVardle shook Mr. Pickwick's hand once more, 
 and, having done the same to Perker, threw himself into an arm-chair, 
 his jolly red face shining again with smiles and health. 
 
 " Well,'' said Wardle, " here are pretty goings on a pinch of your 
 snuff, Perker, my boy never were such times, eh? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Mean ! " replied Wardle, " why, I think the girls are all running 
 mad; that's no news, you'll say? perhaps it's not, but it's true for all 
 that." 
 
 " You have not come up to London, of all places in the world, to tell 
 us that, my dear Sir, have you ? " enquired Perker. 
 
 "No, not altogether/' replied Wardle ; "though it was the main 
 cause of my coming. How's Arabella ? " 
 
 " Very well," replied Mr. Pickwick, " and will be delighted to see 
 you, I am sure." 
 
 " Black-eyed little jilt !" replied Wardle. " I had a great idea of 
 marrying her myself, one of these odd days. But I am glad of it too, 
 very glad." 
 
 " How did the intelligence reach you ? " asked Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh, it came to my girls, of course," replied Wardle. " Arabella 
 wrote the day before yesterday to say she had made a stolen match 
 without her husband's father's consent, and so you had gone down to 
 get it when his refusing it couldn't prevent the match, and all. the rest 
 of it. I thought it a very good time to say something serious to my 
 girls, so I said what a dreadful thing it was that children should 
 marry without their parents' consent, and so forth ; but, bless your 
 hearts, I couldn't make the least impression upon them. They thought 
 it such a much more dreadful thing that there should have been a 
 wedding without bridesmaids, that I might as well have preached 
 to Joe himself." 
 
 Here the old gentleman stopped to laugh ; and having done so, to 
 his heart's content, presently resumed. 
 
 " But this is not the best of it, it seems. This is only half the love- 
 making and plotting that have been going forward. We have been 
 walking on mines for the last six months, and they're sprung at last." 
 
 " What do you mean !" exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, turning pale ; " no 
 other secret marriage, I hope ? " 
 
 "No, no," replied old Wardle; "not so bad as that no." 
 
 " What then ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick ; " am I interested in it ? " 
 
 " Shall I answer that question, Perker ? " said Wardle. 
 
 " If you don't commit yourself by doing so, my dear Sir." 
 
 " Well then, you are, :J ' said Wardle.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 575 
 
 " How?" asked Mr. Pickwick anxiously. '-'In what way ? '' 
 
 " Really," replied Wardle, " you're such a fiery sort of young fellow 
 that I am almost afraid to tell you ; but, however, if Perker will sit 
 between us to prevent mischief, I'll venture." 
 
 Having closed the room-door, and fortified himself with another 
 application to Perker's snuff-box, the old gentleman proceeded with his 
 great disclosure in these words. 
 
 "The fact is, that my daughter Bella Bella, that married young 
 Trundle, you know." 
 
 " Yes, yes, we know," said Mr. Pickwick impatiently. 
 
 " Don't alarm me at the very beginning. My daughter Bella, Emily 
 having gone to bed with a headach after she had read Arabella's letter 
 to me, set herself down by my side the other evening, and began to 
 talk over this marriage affair. ' Well pa,' she says, ' what do you think 
 of it ? ' ' Why, my dear,' I said, ' I suppose it's all very well ; I hope 
 it's for the best.' I answered in this way because I was sitting before 
 the fire at the time, drinking my grog rather thoughtfully, and I knew 
 my throwing in an undecided word now and then, would induce her 
 to continue talking. Both my girls are pictures of their dear mother, 
 and as I grow old I like to sit with only them by me ; for their voices 
 and looks carry me back to the happiest period of my life, and make 
 me for the moment as young as I used to be then, though not quite 
 so light-hearted. ' It's quite a marriage of affection, pa/ said Bella, 
 after a short silence. ' Yes, my dear,' said I, ' but such marriages do 
 not always turn out the happiest.' " 
 
 " I question that, mind," interposed Mr. Pickwick warmly. 
 
 "Very good," responded Wardle, " question anything you like when 
 it's your turn to speak, but don't interrupt me." 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Granted," replied Wardle. " ' I am sorry to hear you express your 
 opinion against marriages of affection, pa,' said Bella, colouring a 
 little. ' I was wrong ; I ought not to have said so, my dear, either,' 
 said I, patting her cheek as kindly as a rough old fellow like me could 
 pat it, ' for your mother's was one, and so was yours.' ' It's not that 
 I meant, pa,' said Bella. 'The fact is, pa, I wanted to speak to you 
 about Emily.' " 
 
 Mr. Pickwick started. 
 
 " What's the matter now ? " enquired Wardle, stopping in his 
 narrative. 
 
 " Nothing," replied Mr. Pickwick. " Pray go on." 
 
 " I never could spin out a story," said Wardle abruptly. " It must 
 come out sooner or later, and it'll save us all a great deal of time if it 
 comes at once. The long and the short of it is, then, that Bella at last 
 mustered up courage to tell me that Emily was very unhappy ; that 
 she and your young friend Snodgrass had been in constant correspon- 
 dence and communication ever since last Christmas ; that she had very 
 dutifully made up her mind to run away with him, in laudable imitation 
 of her old friend and schoolfellow ; but that having some compunctions 
 of conscience on the subject, inasmuch as I had always been rather 
 kindly disposed to both of them, they had thought it better in the first
 
 576 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 instance to pay me the compliment of asking whether I would have 
 any objection to their being married in the usual matter-of-fact manner. 
 There now, Mr. Pickwick, if you can make it convenient to reduce your 
 eyes to their usual size again, and to let me hear what you think we 
 ought to do, I shall feel rather obliged to you." 
 
 The testy manner in which the hearty old gentleman uttered this 
 last sentence was not wholly unwarranted ; for Mr. Pickwick's face 
 had settled down into an expression of blank amazement and perplexity 
 quite curious to behold. 
 
 " Snodgrass ! since last Christmas!" were the first broken words 
 that issued from the lips of the confounded gentleman. 
 
 " Since last Christmas," replied Wardle; " that's plain enough, and 
 very bad spectacles we must have worn, not to have discovered it 
 before." 
 
 " I don't understand it," said Mr. Pickwick, ruminating; " I really 
 cannot understand it." 
 
 "It's easy enough to understand," replied the choleric old gentle- 
 man. " If you had been a younger man, you would have been in the 
 secret long ago ; and besides," added Wardle after a moment's hesita- 
 tion, " the truth is, that, knowing nothing of this matter, I have rather 
 pressed Emily for four or five months past to receive favourably (if she 
 could ; I would never attempt to force a girl's inclinations) the addresses 
 of a young gentleman down in our neighbourhood. I have no doubt 
 that, girl-like, to enhance her own value and increase the ardour of 
 Mr. Snodgrass, she has represented this matter in very glowing colours, 
 and that they have both arrived at the conclusion that they are a terri- 
 bly persecuted pair of unfortunates, and have no resource but clandes- 
 tine matrimony or charcoal. Now the question is,'what's to be done?" 
 
 "What have you done?" enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "I!" 
 
 " I mean what did you do when your married daughter told you 
 this?" 
 
 " Oh, I made a fool of myself of course," rejoined Wardle. 
 
 " Just so," interposed Perker, who had accompanied this dialogue 
 with sundry twitchings of his watch-chain, vindictive rubbings of 
 his nose, and other symptoms of impatience. " That's very natural ; 
 but how ? " 
 
 " I went into a great passion and frightened my mother into a fit,'' 
 said Wardle. 
 
 " That was judicious," remarked Perker; " and what else, my dear 
 Sir?" 
 
 " I fretted and fumed all next day, and raised a great disturbance," 
 rejoined the old gentleman. " At last I got tired of rendering myself 
 unpleasant and making everybody miserable ; so I hired a carriage at 
 Muggleton, and, putting my own horses in it, came up to toivn, under 
 pretence of bringing Emily to see Arabella." 
 
 " Miss Wardle is with you, then ? " said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " To be sure she is," replied Wardle. " She is at Osborne's hotel in 
 the Adelphi at this moment, unless your enterprising friend has run 
 away with her since 1 came out this morning."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 577 
 
 " You are reconciled, then ? " said Perker. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," answered Wardle ; " she has been crying and 
 moping ever since, except last night, between tea and supper, when she 
 made a great parade of writing a letter, that I pretended to take no 
 notice of." 
 
 " You want my advice in this matter, I suppose?" said Perker, look- 
 ing from the musing face of Mr. Pickwick to the eager countenance 
 of Wardle, and taking several consecutive pinches of his favourite 
 stimulant. 
 
 "I suppose so," said Wardle, looking at Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Certainly," replied that gentleman. 
 
 " Well then," said Perker, rising and pushing his chair back, " mj 
 advice is, that you both walk away together, or ride away, or get away 
 by some means or other, for I'm tired of you, and just talk this matter 
 over between you. If you have not settled it by the next time I see 
 you, I'll tell you what to do." 
 
 " This is satisfactory," said Wardle, hardly knowing whether to 
 smile or be offended. 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, my dear Sir," returned Perker, " I know you both a 
 great deal better than you know yourselves. You have settled it 
 already, to all intents and purposes." 
 
 Thus expressing himself, the little gentleman poked his snuff-box, 
 first into the chest of Mr. Pickwick, and then into the waistcoat of 
 Mr. Wardle, upon which they all three laughed, but especially the two 
 last-named gentlemen, who at once shook hands again, without any 
 obvious or particular reason. 
 
 " You dine with me to-day," said Wardle to Perker, as he showed 
 them out. 
 
 " Can't promise, my dear Sir, can't promise," replied Perker. " I'll 
 look in, in the evening, at all events." 
 
 " I shall expect you at five," said Wardle. " Now, Joe ;" and Joe 
 having been at length awakened, the two friends departed in Mr. 
 Wardle's carriage, which in common humanity had a dickey behind for 
 the fat boy, who, if there had been a foot-board instead, would have 
 rolled off and killed himself in his very first nap. 
 
 Driving to the George and Vulture, they found that Arabella and 
 her maid had sent for a hackney-coach immediately on the receipt of a 
 short note from Emily announcing her arrival in town, and had pro- 
 ceeded straight to the Adelphi. As Wardle had business to transact 
 in the city, they sent the carriage and the fat boy to his hotel, with the 
 information that he and Mr. Pickwick would return together to dinner 
 at five o'clock. 
 
 Charged with this message, the fat boy returned, slumbering as 
 peaceably in his dickey over the stones as if it had been a down bed on 
 watch-springs. By some extraordinary miracle he awoke of his own 
 accord, when the coach stopped, and giving himself a good shake to stir 
 up his faculties, went up stairs to execute his commission. 
 
 Now, whether the shake had jumbled the fat boy's faculties together 
 instead of arranging them in proper order, or had roused such a quan- 
 tity of new ideas within, him as to render him oblivious of ordinary
 
 578 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 forms and ceremonies, or (which is also possible) had proved unsuc- 
 cessful in preventing his falling asleep as he ascended the stairs, it is 
 an undoubted fact that he walked into the sitting room without pre- 
 viously knocking at the door, and so beheld a gentleman with his arm 
 clasping his young mistress's waist, sitting very lovingly by her side 
 on a sofa, while Arabella and her pretty handmaid feigned to be ab- 
 sorbed in looking out of a window at the other end of the room. At 
 sight of which phenomenon the fat boy uttered an interjection, the 
 ladies a scream, and the gentleman an oath, almost simultaneously. 
 
 " Wretched creature, what do you want here ?" said the gentleman, 
 who it is needless to say was Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 To this the fat boy, considerably terrified, briefly responded, 
 " Missis." 
 
 " What do you want me for ?" enquired Emily, turning her head 
 aside, " you stupid creature." 
 
 " Master and Mr. Pickwick is a going to dine here at five," replied 
 the fat boy. 
 
 "Leave the room," said Mr. Snodgrass, glaring upon the bewildered 
 youth. 
 
 " No, no, no," added Emily hastily. " Bella, dear, advise me." 
 
 Upon this, Emily and Mr. Snodgrass, and Arabella and Mary, 
 crowded into a corner and conversed earnestly in whispers for some 
 minutes, during which the fat boy dozed. 
 
 " Joe," said Arabella, at length, looking round with a most be- 
 witching smile, " how do you do, Joe?" 
 
 " Joe," said Emily, " you're a very good boy ; I won't forget you, 
 Joe." 
 
 " Joe," said Mr. Snodgrass, advancing to the astonished youth, and 
 seizing his hand, " I didn't know you before. There's five shillings 
 for you, Joe." 
 
 " I'll owe you five, Joe," said Arabella, " for old acquaintance sake, 
 you know," and another most captivating smile was bestowed upon the 
 corpulent intruder. 
 
 The fat boy's perception being slow, he looked rather puzzled at first 
 to account for this sudden prepossession in his favour, and stared 
 about him in a very alarming manner. At length his broad face began 
 to show symptoms of a grin of proportionately broad dimensions, and 
 then thrusting half a crown into each of his pockets, and a hand and 
 wrist after it, he burst into a horse laugh : being for the first and only 
 time in his existence. 
 
 " He understands us, I see," said Arabella. 
 
 " He had better have something to eat immediately," remarked 
 Emily. 
 
 The fat boy almost laughed again when he heard this suggestion. 
 Mary, after a little more whispering, tripped forth from the group, and 
 said, 
 
 " I am going to dine with you to-day, Sir, if you have no ob- 
 jection." 
 
 " This way," said the fat boy, eagerly. " There is such a jolly 
 meat pie ! "
 

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 579 
 
 ^ With these words the fat boy led the way down stairs, his pretty 
 companion captivating all the waiters and angering all the chamber- 
 maids as she followed him to the eating room. 
 
 There was the meat pie of which the youth had spoken so feelingly : 
 and there were, moreover, a steak and a dish of potatoes, and a pot of 
 porter. 
 
 " Sit down," said the fat boy. " Oh, my eye, how prime ! I am 
 so hungry." 
 
 Having apostrophized his eye in a species of rapture five or six times, 
 the youth took the head of the little table, and Mary set herself at the 
 bottom. 
 
 " Will you have some of this?" said the fat boy, plunging into the 
 pie up to the very ferules of the knife and fork. 
 
 " A little, if you please," replied Mary. 
 
 The fat boy assisted Mary to a little, and himself to a great deal, 
 and was just goirtg to begin eating when he suddenly laid down his 
 knife and fork, leant forward in his chair, and letting his hands, with 
 the knife and fork in them, fall on his knees, said, very slowly, 
 
 " I say, how nice you do look ! " 
 
 This was said in an admiring manner, and was, so far, gratifying ; 
 but still there was enough of the cannibal in the young gentleman's 
 eyes to render the compliment a doubtful one. 
 
 "Dear me, Joseph," said Mary, affecting to blush, "what do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 The fat boy, gradually recovering his former position, replied with a 
 heavy sigh, and remaining thoughtful for a few moments, drank a long 
 draught of the porter. Having achieved this feat he sighed again, and 
 applied himself assiduously to the pie. 
 
 " What a nice young lady Miss Emily is ! " said Mary, after a long 
 silence. 
 
 The fat boy had by this time finished the pie. He fixed his eyes on 
 Mary, and replied 
 
 " I knows a nicerer." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mary. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " replied the fat boy, with unwonted vivacity. 
 
 " What's her name? " enquired Mary. 
 
 "What's yours?" 
 
 " Mary." 
 
 " So's hers," said the fat boy. " You're her." The boy grinned to 
 add point to the compliment, and put his eyes into something between 
 a squint and a cast, which there is reason to believe he intended for 
 an ogle. 
 
 " You musn't talk to me in that way," said Mary ; " you don't 
 mean it." 
 
 " Don't I though ? " replied the fat boy ; " I say-" 
 
 "Well." 
 
 " Are you going to come here regular? " 
 
 " No," rejoined Mary, shaking her head, " I'm going away again to- 
 night. Why ? "
 
 580 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Oh ! " said the fat boy, in a tone of strong feeling ; " how we 
 should have enjoyed ourselves at meals, if you had been ! " 
 
 " I might come here sometimes perhaps, to see you," said Mary, 
 plaiting the table cloth in assumed coyness, " if you would do me a 
 favour." 
 
 The fat boy looked from the pie dish to the steak, as if he thought a 
 favour must be in a manner connected with something to eat ; and then 
 took out one of the half-crowns and glanced at it nervously. 
 
 " Don't you understand me ? " said Mary, looking slyly in his fat'face. 
 
 Again he looked at the half-crown, and said faintly, " No." 
 
 " The ladies want you not to say anything to the old gentleman about 
 the young gentleman having been up stairs ; and I want you too." 
 
 " Is that all ! " said the fat boy, evidently very much relieved as he 
 pocketed the half-crown again. " Of course I ain't a going to." 
 
 *' You see," said Mary, " Mr. Snodgrass is very fond of Miss Emily, 
 and Miss Emily's very fond of him, and if you were to tell about it, 
 the old gentleman would carry you all away miles into the country, 
 where you'd see nobody." 
 
 "No, no, I won't tell," said the fat boy, stoutly. 
 
 " That's a dear," said Mary. " Now it's time I went up stairs, and 
 got my lady ready for dinner." 
 
 " Don't go yet," urged the fat boy. 
 
 " I must," replied Mary. "Good bye, for the present/' 
 
 The fat boy, with elephantine playfulness, stretched out his arms 
 to ravish a kiss ; but as it required no great agility to elude him, his 
 fair enslaver had vanished before he closed them again ; upon which the 
 apathetic youth ate a pound or so of steak with a sentimental counte- 
 nance, and fell fast asleep. 
 
 There was so much to say up stairs, and there were so many plans 
 to concert for elopement and matrimony in the event of old Wardle 
 continuing to be cruel, that it wanted only half an hour to dinner 
 when Mr. Snodgrass took his final adieu. The ladies ran to Emily's 
 bedroom to dress, and the lover, taking up his hat, walked out of the 
 room. He had scarcely got outside the door, when he heard Wardle's 
 voice talking loudly ; and looking over the bannisters, beheld him, 
 followed by some other gentlemen, coming straight up stairs. Knowing 
 nothing of the house, Mr. Snodgrass in his confusion stepped hastily 
 back into the room he had just quitted, and passing from thence into 
 an inner apartment (Mr. Wardle's bedchamber), closed the door softly, 
 just as the persons he had caught a glimpse of, entered the sitting 
 room. These were Mr. Wardle, and Mr. Pickwick ; Mr. Nathaniel 
 Winkle and Mr. Benjamin Allen, whom he had no difficulty in recog- 
 nising by their voices. 
 
 " Very lucky I had the presence of mind to avoid them," thought 
 Mr. Snodgrass with a smile, and walking on tiptoe to another door near 
 the bedside, " this opens into the same passage, and I can walk quietly 
 and comfortably away." 
 
 There was only one obstacle to his walking quietly and comfortably 
 away, which was, that the door was locked and the key gone.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. r 581 
 
 " Let us have some of your best wine to-day, waiter," said old 
 Wardle, rubbing his hands. 
 
 " You shall have some of the very best, Sir/' replied the waiter. 
 
 " Let the ladies know we have come in." 
 
 " Yes, Sir." 
 
 Devoutly and ardently did Mr. Snodgrass wish that the ladies could 
 know he had come in. lie ventured once to whisper " Waiter !" through 
 the keyhole, but the probability of the wrong waiter coming to his 
 relief flashing upon his mind, together with a sense of the strong resem- 
 blance between his own situation and that in which another gentleman 
 had been recently found in a neighbouring hotel (an account of whose 
 misfortunes had appeared under the head of " Police " in that morning's 
 paper), he set himself down upon a portmanteau, and trembled 
 violently. 
 
 " We won't wait a minute for Perker," said Wardle, looking at his 
 watch ; " he is always exact. He will be here in time if he means to 
 come ; and if he does not, it's of no use waiting. Ha ! Arabella." 
 
 " My sister ! " exclaimed Mr. Benjamin Allen, folding her in a most 
 romantic embrace. 
 
 " Oh, Ben, dear, how you do smell of tobacco," said Arabella, rather 
 overcome by this mark of affection. 
 
 " Do I ? " said Mr. Benjamin Allen, " Do I, Bella ? Well, perhaps 
 I do." 
 
 Perhaps he did, having just left a pleasant little smoking party of 
 twelve medical students in a small back parlour with a large lire. 
 
 " But I am delighted to see you," said Mr. Ben Allen. " Bless you, 
 Bella." 
 
 " There," said Arabella, bending forward to kiss her brother ; " don't 
 take hold of me again, Ben dear, because you tumble me so." 
 
 At this point of the reconciliation, Mr. Ben Allen allowed his feelings 
 and the cigars and porter to overcome him ; and looked round upon the 
 beholders with damp spectacles. 
 
 " Is nothing to be said to me ? " cried Wardle, with open arms. 
 
 " A great deal," whispered Arabella, as she received the old gen- 
 tleman's hearty caress and congratulation. " You are a hard-hearted, 
 unfeeling, cruel, monster ! " 
 
 " You are a little rebel," replied Wardle, in the same tone ; " and I 
 am afraid I shall be obliged to forbid you the house. People like you, 
 who get married in spite of everybody, ought not to be let loose on society. 
 But come," added the old gentleman aloud, " Here's the dinner ; you 
 shall sit by me. Joe ; why, damn the boy, he's awake ! " 
 
 To the great distress of his master, the fat boy was indeed in a state 
 of remarkable vigilance, his eyes being wide open,* and looking as if they 
 intended to remain so. There was an alacrity in his manner too which 
 was equally unaccountable ; every time his eyes met those of Emily or 
 Arabella, he smirked and grinned ; and once Wardle could have sworn 
 he saw him wink. 
 
 This alteration in the fat boy's demeanour originated in his increased 
 sense of his own importance, and the dignity he acquired from having 
 been taken into the confidence of the young ladies ; and the smirks and 
 s s2
 
 582 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 grins, and winks, were so many condescending assurances that they 
 might depend upon his fidelity. As these tokens were rather calcu- 
 lated to awaken suspicion than allay it, and were somewhat embarrass- 
 ing besides, they were occasionally answered by a frown or shake of 
 the head from Arabella, which the fat boy considering as hints to be on 
 his guard, expressed his perfect under standing of, by smirking, grinning, 
 and winking, with redoubled assiduity. 
 
 " Joe," said Mr. Wardle after an unsuccessful search in all his 
 pockets, "is my snuff-box on the sofa ?" 
 
 " No, Sir," replied the fat boy. 
 
 " Oh, I recollect ; I left it on my dressing table this morning," said 
 Wardle. " Run into the next room and fetch it." 
 
 The fat boy went into the next room, and having been absent about 
 a minute, returned with the snuff-box and the palest face that ever a 
 fat boy wore. 
 
 ' What's the matter with the boy !" exclaimed Wardle. 
 e Nothen's the matter with me," replied Joe, nervously. 
 
 ' Have you been seeing any spirits ? " enquired the old gentleman. 
 
 ' Or taking any ? " added Ben Allen. 
 
 ' I think you're right," whispered Wardle across the table. * f He is 
 intoxicated, I'm sure." 
 
 Ben Allen replied that he thought he was ; and as that gentleman 
 had seen a vast deal of the disease in question, Wardle was confirmed 
 in an impression which had been hovering about his mind for half an 
 hour, and at once arrived at the conclusion that the fat boy was very 
 drunk. 
 
 "Just keep your eye upon him for a few minutes," murmured 
 Wardle. " We shall soon find out whether he is or not." 
 
 The unfortunate youth had only interchanged a dozen Avords with 
 Mr. Snodgrass, that gentleman having implored him to make a private 
 appeal to some friend to release him, and then pushed him out with 
 the snuff-box, lest his prolonged absence should lead to a discovery. 
 He ruminated a little with a most disturbed expression of face, and left 
 the room in search of Mary. 
 
 But Mary had gone home after dressing her mistress, and the fat 
 boy came back again, more disturbed than before. 
 
 Wardle and Mr. Ben Allen exchanged glances. 
 
 " Joe," said Wardle. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " What did you go away for ? " 
 
 The fat boy looked hopelessly in the face of everybody at table, and 
 stammered out that he didn't know. 
 
 " Oh," said Wardle, "you don't know, eh? Take this cheese to 
 Mr. Pickwick." 
 
 Now, Mr. Pickwick being in the very best health and spirits, had 
 been making himself perfectly delightful all dinner-time, and was at 
 this moment engaged in an energetic conversation with Emily and Mr. 
 Winkle ; bowing his head courteously in the emphasis of his discourse, 
 gently waving his left hand to lend force to his observations, and all 
 glowing with placid smiles. He took a piece of cheese from the plate,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. OO<3 
 
 and was upon the point of turning round to renew the conversation, 
 when the fat boy, stooping so as to bring his head on a level with that 
 of Mr. Pickwick, pointed with his thumb over his shoulder and made 
 the most horrible and hideous face that was ever seen out of a 
 pantomime. 
 
 "Dear me!" said Mr. Pickwick, starting, "what a very eh ?" 
 He stopped, for the fat boy had drawn himself up, and was, or pre- 
 tended to be, fast asleep. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " enquired Wardle. 
 
 " This is such an extremely singular lad of yours," replied Mr. Pick- 
 wick, looking uneasily at the boy. " It seems an odd thing to say, 
 but, upon my word, I am afraid that at times he is a little deranged." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Pickwick, pray don't say so," cried Emily and Arabella, 
 both at once. 
 
 "I am not certain, of course," said Mr. Pickwick, amidst profound 
 silence, and looks of general dismay ; " but his manner to me this 
 moment was really very alarming. Oh ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, 
 suddenly jumping up with a short scream. le I beg your pardon, ladies, 
 but at that moment he ran some sharp instrument into my leg. j. Really 
 he is not safe." 
 
 " He's drunk," roared old Wardle, passionately. " Ring the bell, 
 call the waiters ! he's drunk." 
 
 " I ain't," said the fat boy, falling on his knees as his master seized 
 him by the collar. " I ain't drunk." 
 
 " Then you're mad that's worse. Call the waiters," said the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 " I ain't mad ; I'm sensible," rejoined the fat boy, beginning to cry. 
 
 " Then, what the devil did you run sharp instruments into Mr. 
 Pickwick's legs for ? " enquired Wardle, angrily. 
 
 " He wouldn't look at me," replied the boy. " I wanted to speak to 
 him." 
 
 " What did you want to say ? " asked half a dozen voices at once. 
 
 The fat boy gasped, looked at the bedroom door, gasped again, and 
 "wiped two tears away with the knuckle of each of his fore-fingers. 
 
 " What did you w'ant to say ? " demanded Wardle, shaking him. 
 
 " Stop," said Mr. Pickwick ; " allow me. What did you wish to 
 communicate to me, my poor boy ? " 
 
 " I want to whisper to you," replied the fat boy. 
 
 " You want to bite his ear off, I suppose," said Wardle. " Don't come 
 near him, he's vicious ; ring the bell, and let him be taken down 
 stairs." 
 
 Just as Mr. Winkle caught the bell-rope in his hand, it was arrested 
 
 general expression of astonishment ; the captive lover, his face 
 ng with confusion, suddenly walked in from the bedroom, and 
 a comprehensive bow to the company. 
 
 " Hallo ! " cried Wardle, releasing the fat boy's collar, and staggering 
 back, " What's this ! " 
 
 " I have been concealed in the next room, Sir, since you returned," 
 explained Mr. Snodgrass. 
 
 " Emily, my girl," said Wardle, reproachfully, " I detest meanness
 
 584 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 and deceit ; this is unjustifiable and indelicate in the highest degree. 
 I don't deserve this, at your hands Emily, indeed. 3 ' 
 
 " Dear papa." said Emily, " Arabella knows everybody here knows ; 
 Joe knows that I was no party to this concealment. Augustus, for 
 Heaven's sake, explain it." 
 
 Mr. Snodgrass, who had only waited for a hearing, at once recounted 
 how he had been placed in his then distressing predicament ; how the 
 fear of giving rise to domestic dissensions had alone prompted him to 
 avoid Mr. Wardle on his entrance ; and how he merely meant to de- 
 part by another door, but, finding it locked, had been compelled to 
 stay against his will. It was a painful situation to be placed in ; but 
 he now regretted it the less, inasmuch as it afforded him an oppor- 
 tunity of acknowledging before their mutual friends that he loved Mr. 
 Wardle's daughter deeply and sincerely, that he was proud to avow 
 that the feeling was mutual, and that if thousands of miles were placed 
 between them, or oceans rolled their waters, he could never for an in- 
 stant forget those happy days when first et cetera, et cetera. 
 
 Having delivered himself to this effect, Mr. Snodgrass bowed again, 
 looked into the crown of his hat. and stepped towards the door. 
 
 " Stop !" shouted Wardle. " Why, in the name of all that's " 
 
 " Inflammable," mildly suggested Mr. Pickwick, who thought some- 
 thing worse was coming. 
 
 " Well that's inflammable," said Wardle, adopting the substitute ; 
 " couldn't you say all this to me in the firs': instance?" 
 " Or confide in me ? " added Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Dear, dear," said Arabella, taking up the defence, " what is the 
 use of asking all that now, especially when you know you had set your 
 covetous old heart on a richer son-in-law, and are so wild and fierce 
 besides, that everybody is afraid of you, except me. Shake hands with 
 him, and order him some dinner, for goodness gracious sake, for he 
 looks half starved ; and pray have your wine up at once, for you'll not 
 be tolerable until you have taken two bottles at least." 
 
 The worthy old gentleman pulled Arabella's ear, kissed her without 
 the smallest scruple, kissed his daughter also with great affection, and 
 shook Mr. Snodgrass warmly by the hand. 
 
 " She is right upon one point at all events," said the old gentleman, 
 cheerfully. " Ring for the wine." 
 
 The wine came, and Perker came up stairs at the same moment. Mr. 
 Snodgrass had dinner at a side table, and when he had dispatched it 
 drew his chair next Emily, without the smallest opposition on the old 
 gentleman's part. 
 
 The evening was excellent. Little Mr. Perker came out wonder- 
 fully, told various comic stories, and sang a serious song, which was 
 almost as funny as the anecdotes. Arabella was very charming, Mr. 
 Wardle very jovial, Mr. Pickwick very harmonious, Mr. Ben Allen very 
 uproarious, the lovers very silent, Mr. Winkle very talkative, and all 
 of them very happy.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 585 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 MR. SOLOMON PELL, ASSISTED BY A SELECT COMMITTEE OF 
 COACHMEN, ARRANGES THE AFFAIRS OF THE ELDER MR. 
 WELLER. 
 
 " SAMIVEL," said Mr. Weller, accosting his son on the morning 
 after the funeral, " I've found it, Sammy. I thought it vos there." 
 
 " Thought wot wos vere ? '' enquired Sam. 
 
 " Your mother-in-law's vill, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller. " In 
 wirtue o' vich, them arrangements is to be made as I told you on last 
 night respecting the funs." 
 
 " Wot, didn't she tell you vere it wos ?" enquired Sam. 
 
 "Not a bit on it, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller. " Ve vos a adjest- 
 in' our little differences, and I vos a cheerin' her spirits and bearin' her 
 up, so that I forgot to ask anythin' about it. I don't know as I should 
 ha' done it indeed, if I had remembered it," added Mr. Weller, " for 
 it's a rum sort o' thing, Sammy, to go a hankerin' arter anybody's pro- 
 perty, ven you're assistin' 'em in illness. It's like helping an outside 
 passenger up ven he's been pitched off a coach, and puttin' your hand 
 in his pocket, vile you ask him vith a sigh how he finds his-self, 
 Sammy." 
 
 With this figurative illustration of his meaning, Mr. Weller un- 
 clasped his pocket-book, and drew forth a dirty sheet of letter paper, 
 on which were inscribed various characters crowded together in re- 
 markable confusion. 
 
 " This here is the dockyment, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. " I found 
 it in the little black teapot on the top shelf o' the bar closet. She used 
 to keep bank notes there 'afore she vos married, Samivel. I've seen her 
 take the lid off to pay a bill, many and many a time. Poor creetur, she 
 might ha' filled all the teapots in the house vith vills, and not have 
 inconwenienced herself neither, for she took wery little of anythin' in 
 that vay lately, 'cept on the Temperance nights, ven they just laid a 
 foundation o' tea to put the spirits a-top on." 
 
 " What does it say ? " enquired Sam. 
 
 " Jist vot I told you, my boy," rejoined his parent. "Two hundred 
 pounds vurth o' reduced counsels to my son-in-law, Samivel, and all 
 the rest o' my property of ev'ry kind and description votsoever to my 
 husband, Mr." Tony Veller, who I appint as iny sole eggzekiter." 
 
 " That's all, is it ? " said Sam. 
 
 " That's all," replied Mr. Weller. " And I s'pose as it's all right 
 and satisfactory to you and me, as is the only parties interested, ve may 
 as veil put this bit o' paper into the fire."
 
 586 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 "Wot are you a-doin' on, you lunatic?" said Sam, snatching the 
 paper away, as his parent, in all innocence, stirred the fire preparatory 
 to suiting the action to the word. " You're a nice eggzekiter, you are/' 
 
 " Vy not ?" enquired Mr. Weller, looking sternly round, with the 
 poker in his hand. 
 
 " Vy not ! " exclaimed Sam, " 'cos it must be proved, and probated, 
 and sworn to, and all manner o' formalities." 
 
 " You don't mean that ? " said Mr. Weller, laying down the poker. 
 
 Sam buttoned the will carefully in a side pocket, intimating by a 
 look meanwhile, that he did mean it, and very seriously too. 
 
 " Then I'll tell you wot it is," said Mr. Weller, after a short medita- 
 tion, " this is a case for that 'ere confidential pal o' the Chancellorship's. 
 Peli must look into this, Sammy. He's the man for a difficult 
 question at law. Ve'll have this here brought afore the Solvent court 
 directly, Samivel." 
 
 " I never did see such a addle-headed old creetur !" exclaimed Sam, 
 irritably, " Old Baileys, and Solvent Courts, and alleybis, and ev'ry 
 species o' gammon alvays a-runnin' through his brain. You'd better 
 get your out o' door clothes on, and come to town about this bisness, than 
 stand a preachin' there about wot you don't understand nothin' of." 
 
 " Wery good, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller. "I'm quite agreeable 
 to anythin' as vill hexpedite business, Sammy. But mind this here, 
 my boy, nobody but Pell nobody but Pell as a legal adwiser." 
 
 " I don't want anybody else," replied Sam. " Now, are you a- 
 comin' ? " 
 
 " Vait a minit, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, who, having tied his 
 shawl with the aid of a small glass that hung in the window, was now, 
 by dint of the most wonderful exertions, struggling into his upper 
 garments. " Vait a minit, Sammy ; ven you grow as old as your 
 father, you von't get into your veskit quite as easy as you do now, 
 my boy." 
 
 " If I couldn't get into it easier than that, I'm blessed if I'd vear vun 
 at all," rejoined his son. 
 
 " You think so now," said Mr. Weller, with the gravity of age, 
 " but you'll find that as you get vider you'll get viser. Vidth and 
 visdom, Sammy, alvays grows together." 
 
 As Mr. Weller delivered this infallible maxim the result of many 
 years' personal experience and observation he contrived, by a dexterous 
 twist of his body, to get the bottom button of his coat to perform its 
 office. Having paused a few seconds to recover breath, he brushed his 
 hat with his elbow, and declared himself ready. 
 
 " As four heads is better than two, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, as 
 they drove along the London road in the chaise cart, " and as all this 
 here property is a wery great temptation to a legal gen'lm'n, ve'll take 
 a couple o' friends o' mine vith us, as '11 be wery soon down upon him 
 if he comes anythin' irreg'lar ; two o' them as saw you to the Fleet 
 that day. They're the wery best judges," added Mr. Weller in a 
 half whisper, "the wery best judges of a' horse you ever know'd." 
 
 " And of a lawyer too? " enquired Sam. 
 
 " The man as can form a ackerate judgment of a animal, can form
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 587 
 
 a ackerate judgment of anythin','' replied his father ; so dogmatically, 
 that Sam did not attempt to controvert the position. 
 
 In pursuance of this notable resolution, the services of the mottled- 
 faced gentleman and of two other very fat coachmen selected by 
 Mr. Weller, probably, with a view to their width and consequent 
 wisdom were put into requisition ; and this assistance having been 
 secured, the party proceeded to the public-house in Portugal-street, 
 whence a messenger was dispatched to the Insolvent Court over the 
 way, requiring Mr. Solomon Pell's immediate attendance. 
 
 The messenger fortunately found Mr. Solomon Pell in court, regaling 
 himself, business being rather slack, with a cold collation of an 
 Abernethy biscuit and a saveloy. The message was no sooner 
 whispered in his ear than he thrust them in his pocket among various 
 professional documents, and hurried over the way with such alacrity 
 that he reached the parlour before the messenger had even emancipated 
 himself from the court. 
 
 " Gentlemen, 5 ' said Mr. Pell, touching his hat, fe my service to you 
 all. I don't say it to flatter you, gentlemen, but there are not five 
 other men in the world that I'd have come out of that court for, 
 to-day." 
 
 " So busy, eh ? " said Sam. 
 
 "Busy!" replied Pell; " I'm completely sewn up, as my friend the 
 late Lord Chancellor many a time used to say to me, gentlemen, when 
 he came out from hearing appeals in the House of Lords. Poor 
 fellow ! he was very susceptible of fatigue ; he used to feel those 
 appeals uncommonly. I actually thought more than once that he'd 
 have sunk under them, I did indeed." 
 
 Here Mr. Pell shook his head, and paused ; upon which the elder 
 Mr. Weller, nudging his neighbour, as begging him to mark the 
 attorney's high connections, asked whether the duties in question 
 
 Soduced any permanent ill effects on the constitution of his noble 
 end. 
 
 "I don't think he ever quite recovered them," replied Pell; "in 
 fact I'm sure he never did. ' Pell,' he used to say to me many a time, 
 ' how the blazes you can stand the head-work you do, is a mystery to 
 me.' ' Well,' I used to answer, '/hardly know how I do it, upon my 
 life.' ' Pell,' he'd add, sighing, and looking at me with a little envy 
 friendly envy, you know, gentlemen, mere friendly envy ; I never 
 minded it ' Pell, you're a wonder ; a wonder.' Ah ! you'd have 
 liked him very much if you had known him, gentlemen. Bring me 
 three penn'orth of rum, my dear." 
 
 Addressing this latter remark to the waitress in a tone of subdued 
 grief, Mr. Pell sighed, looked at his shoes, and the ceiling ; and, the 
 rum having by that time arrived, drank it up. 
 
 " However," said Pell, drawing a chair up to the table, " a pro- 
 fessional man has no right to think of his private friendships when his 
 legal assistance is wanted. By the bye, gentlemen, since I saw you 
 here before, we have had to weep over a very melancholy occurrence." 
 
 Mr. Pell drew out a pocket-handkerchief when he came to the word 

 
 588 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 weep, but he made no further use of it than to wipe away a slight 
 tinge of rum which hung upon his upper lip. 
 
 " I saw it in the Advertiser, Mr. Weller," continued Pell. " Bless 
 my soul, not more than fifty-two ! dear me only think." 
 
 These indications of a musing spirit were addressed to the mottled- 
 faced man, whose eyes Mr. Pell had accidentally caught ; upon which 
 the mottled-faced man, whose apprehension of matters in general was 
 of a foggy nature, moved uneasily in his seat, and opined that indeed, 
 so far as that went, there was no saying how things was brought 
 about; which observation involving one of those subtle propositions 
 which it is difficult to encounter in argument, was controverted by 
 nobody. 
 
 "I have heard it remarked that she was a very fine woman, Mr. 
 Weller," said Pell in a sympathising manner. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, she wos," replied the elder Mr. Weller, not much relish- 
 ing this mode of discussing the subject, and yet thinking that the 
 attorney, from his long intimacy with the late Lord Chancellor, must 
 know best on all matters of polite breeding. " She wos a wery fine 
 'ooman, Sir, ven I first know'd her. She wos a widder, Sir, at that 
 time." 
 
 "Now, it's curious," said Pell, looking round with a sorrowful 
 smile ; " Mrs. Pell was a widow." 
 
 " That's very extraordinary," said the mottled-faced man. 
 
 " Well, it is a curious coincidence," said Pell. 
 
 " Not at all," gruffly remarked the elder Mr. Weller. " More 
 widders is married than single vimin." 
 
 " Very good, very good," said Pell, " you're quite right, Mr. Weller. 
 Mrs. Pell was a very elegant and accomplished woman ; her manners 
 were the theme of universal admiration in our neighbourhood. I was 
 proud to see that woman dance ; there was something so firm and 
 dignified and yet natural in her motion. Her cutting, gentlemen, was 
 simplicity itself Ah ! well, well ! Excuse my asking the question, 
 Mr. Samuel," continued the attorney in a lower voice, " was your 
 mother-in-law tall ? " 
 
 "Not wery," replied Sam. 
 
 " Mrs. Pell was a tall figure," said Pell, " a splendid woman, with a 
 noble shape, and a nose, gentlemen, formed to command and be majestic. 
 She was very much attached to me very much highly connected, too ; 
 her mother's brother, gentlemen, failed for eight hundred pound as a 
 Law Stationer." 
 
 " Veil," said Mr. Weller, who had grown rather restless during this 
 discussion, " vith regard to bis'ness." 
 
 The word was music to Pell's ears. He had been 'revolving in his 
 mind whether any business was to be transacted, or whether he had been 
 merely invited to partake of a glass of brandy and water, or a bowl of 
 punch, or any similar professional compliment, and now the doubt was 
 set at rest without his appearing at all eager for its solution. His eyes 
 glistened as he laid his hat on the table, and said 
 
 " What is the business upon which urn ? Either of these gentle-
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 589 
 
 men wish to go through the court ? We require an arrest, a friendly 
 arrest will do, you know ; we are all friends here, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Give me the dockyment, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, taking the will 
 from his son, who appeared to enjoy the interview amazingly. " Wot 
 we rek-vire, Sir, is a probe o' this here." 
 
 " Probate, my dear Sir, probate," said Pell. 
 
 "Veil, Sir,"" replied Mr. Weller sharply, "probe and probe it, is 
 wery much the same ; if you don't understand wot I mean, Sir, I des- 
 say I can find them as does." 
 
 " No offence I hope, Mr. Weller," said Pell, meekly. " You are the 
 executor I see," he added, casting his eyes over the paper. 
 
 " I am, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " These other gentlemen, I presume, are legatees, are they ? " enquired 
 Pell with a congratulatory smile. 
 
 " Sammy is a leg-at-ease," replied Mr. Weller ; " these other 
 gen'l'men is friends o' mine, just come to see fair ; a kind of umpires." 
 
 "Oh!" said Pell, " very good. I have no objections, I'm sure. I 
 shall want a matter of five pound of you before I begin, ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 It being decided by the committee that the five pounds might be 
 advanced, Mr. Weller produced that sum, after which a long consul- 
 tation, about nothing particular, took place, in the course whereof Mr. 
 Pell demonstrated, to the perfect satisfaction of the gentlemen who saw 
 fair, that unless the management of the business had been entrusted to 
 him, it must all have gone wrong, for reasons not clearly made out, but 
 no doubt sufficient. This important point being dispatched, Mr. Pell 
 refreshed t himself with three chops, and liquids both malt and spirituous, 
 at the expense of the estate, and then they all went away to Doctors' 
 Commons. 
 
 The next day there was another visit to Doctors' Commons, and a 
 great to-do with an attesting ostler, who, being inebriated, declined 
 swearing anything but profane oaths, to the great scandal of a proctor 
 and surrogate. Next week there were more visits to Doctors' Com- 
 mons, and a visit to the Legacy Duty Office besides, and treaties en- 
 tered into for the disposal of the lease and business, and ratifications of 
 the same, and inventories to be made out, and lunches to be taken, and 
 dinners to be eaten, and so many profitable things to be done, and such 
 a mass of papers accumulated, that Mr. Solomon Pell and the boy, 
 and the blue bag to boot, all got so stout that scarcely anybody would 
 have known them for the same man, boy, and bag, that had loitered 
 about Portugal Street a few days before. 
 
 At length all these weighty matters being arranged, a day was fixed 
 for selling out and transferring the stock, and of waiting with that 
 Tiew upon Wilkins Flasher, Esq., stock-broker, of somewhere near the 
 Bank, who had been recommended by Mr. Solomon Pell for the pur- 
 pose. 
 
 It was a kind of festive occasion, and the parties were attired accor- 
 dingly. Mr. Weller's tops were newly cleaned, and his dress was 
 arranged with peculiar care : the mottled-faced gentleman wore at his 
 button hole a full sized dahlia with several leaves, and the coats of his 
 two friends were adorned with nosegay's of laurel and other evergreens.
 
 590 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 All three were habited in strict holiday costume ; that is to say, they 
 were wrapped up to the chins, and wore as many clothes as possible, 
 which is, and has been, a stage-coachman's idea of full dress ever since 
 stage-coaches were invented. 
 
 Mr. Pell was waiting at the usual place of meeting at the appointed 
 time ; and even he wore a pair of gloves and a clean shirt, the latter 
 much frayed at the collar and wristbands by frequent washings. 
 
 " A quarter to two," said Pell, looking at the parlour clock. " If 
 we are with Mr. Flasher at a quarter past, we shall just hit the best 
 time." 
 
 *' What should you say to a drop o' beer, gen'Pmen ?" suggested the 
 mottled-faced man. 
 
 " And a little bit o' cold beef, ; ' said the second coachman. 
 
 " Or a oyster," added the third, who was a hoarse gentleman, sup- 
 ported by very round legs. 
 
 "Hear, hear!" said Pell; "to congratulate Mr. Weller, on his 
 coming into possession of his property : eh ? ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " I'm quite agreeable, genTmen," answered Mr. Weller. " Sammy, 
 pull the bell." 
 
 Sam complied ; and the porter, cold beef, and oysters being promptly 
 produced, the lunch was done ample justice to. Where everybody took 
 so active a part, it is almost invidious to make a distinction ; but if one 
 individual evinced greater powers than another, it was the coachman 
 with the hoarse voice, who took an imperial pint of vinegar with his 
 oysters, without betraying the least emotion. 
 
 " Mr. Pell, Sir," said the elder Mr. Weller, stirring a glass of 
 brandy and water, of which one was placed before every gentleman 
 when "the oyster shells were removed; "Mr. Pell, Sir, it wos my in- 
 tention to have proposed the funs on this occasion, but Samivel has 
 vispered to me " 
 
 Here Mr. Samuel Weller, who had silently eat his oysters with 
 tranquil smiles, cried " Hear ! " in a very loud voice. 
 
 ' c Has vispered to me," resumed his father, " that it vould be better 
 to de-wote the liquor to vishin' you success and prosperity; and 
 thankin' you for the manner in which you've brought this here busi- 
 ness through. Here's your health, Sir." 
 
 " Hold hard there," interposed the mottled-faced gentleman, with 
 sudden energy, " your eyes on me, genTmen." 
 
 Saying this, the mottled-faced gentleman rose, as did the other gen- 
 tlemen. The mottled-faced gentleman reviewed the company, and 
 slowly raised his hand, upon which every man (including he of the 
 mottled countenance) drew a long breath, and lifted his tumbler to his 
 lips. In one instant the mottled-faced gentleman depressed his hand 
 again, and every glass was set down empty. It is impossible to de- 
 scribe the thrilling effect produced by this striking ceremony ; at once 
 dignified, solemn, and impressive, it combined every element of gran- 
 deur. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said Mr. Pell, " all I can say is, that such 
 marks of confidence must be very gratifying to a professional man. I 
 don't wish to say anything that might appear egotistical, gentlemen,
 
 

 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 591 
 
 but I'm very glad, for your own sakes, that you came to me : that's all. 
 If you had gone to any low member of the profession, it's my firm con- 
 viction, and I assure you of it as a fact, that you would have found 
 yourselves in Queer Street before this. I could have wished my noble 
 friend had been alive to have seen my management of this case ; I 
 don't say it out of pride, but I think however, gentlemen, I won't 
 trouble you with that. I'm generally to be found here, gentlemen, but 
 if I'm not here, or over the way, that's my address. You'll tind my 
 terms very cheap and reasonable, and no man attends more to his 
 clients than I do, and I hope I know a little of my profession besides. 
 If you have any "opportunity of recommending me to any of your 
 friends, gentlemen, I shall be very much obliged to you, and so will 
 they too, when they come to know me. Your healths, gentlemen." 
 
 With this expression of his feelings, Mr. Solomon Pell laid three 
 small written cards before Mr. Weller's friends, and, looking at the 
 clock again, feared it was time to be walking. Upon this hint Mr. 
 Weller settled the bill, and, issuing forth, the executor, legatee, attor- 
 ney, and umpires, directed their steps towards the city. 
 
 The office of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, of the Stock Exchange, was 
 in a first floor up a court behind the Bank of England ; the house of 
 Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was at Brixton, Surrey ; the horse and stan- 
 hope of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, were at an adjacent livery stable; 
 the groom of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was on his way to the West 
 End to deliver some game ; the clerk of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, had 
 gone to his dinner ; and so Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, himself, cried, 
 " Come in," when Mr. Pell and his companions knocked at the 
 counting-house door. 
 
 " Good morning, Sir," said Pell, bowing obsequiously. " We want 
 to make a little transfer, if you please." 
 
 "Oh, just come in, will you?" said Mr. Flasher. " Sit down a 
 minute ; I'll attend to you directly." 
 
 " Thank you, Sir," said Pell, " there's no hurry. Take a chair, 
 Mr. Weller." 
 
 Mr. Weller took a chair, and Sam took a box, and the umpires took 
 what they could get, and looked at the almanack and one or two papers 
 which were wafered against the wall, with as much open-eyed rever- 
 ence as if they had been the finest efforts of the old masters. 
 
 " Well, I'll bet you haif a dozen of claret on it; come," said 
 Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, resuming the conversation to which Mr. 
 Pell's entrance had caused a momentary interruption. 
 
 This was addressed to a very smart young gentleman who wore his 
 hat on his right whisker, and was lounging over the desk killing flies 
 with a ruler. Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was balancing himself on two 
 legs of an office stool, spearing a wafer-box with a penknife, which he 
 dropped every now and then with great dexterity into the very centre 
 of a small red wafer that was stuck outsule. Both gentlemen had very 
 open waistcoats and very rolling collars, and very small boots and very 
 big rings, and very little watches and very large guard chains, and sym- 
 metrical inexpressibles and scented pocket handkerchiefs.
 
 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I never bet half a dozen/' said the other gentleman. " I'll take a 
 dozen." 
 
 ' Done, Simmery, done ! " said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. 
 
 tl P. P., mind, " observed the other. 
 
 " Of course," replied Wilkins Flasher, Esquire ; and Wilkins 
 Flasher, Esquire, entered it in a little book with a gold pencil-case, and 
 the other gentleman entered it also, in another little book with another 
 gold pencil case. 
 
 <e I see there's a notice up this morning about Boffer," observed 
 Mr. Simmery. " Poor devil, he's expelled the house." 
 
 " I'll bet you ten guineas to five lie cuts his throat," said Wilkins 
 Flasher, Esquire. 
 
 " Done," replied Mr. Simmery. 
 
 " Stop ! I bar," said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, thoughtfully. 
 " Perhaps he may hang himself." 
 
 " Very good," rejoined Mr. Simmery, pulling out the gold pencil- 
 case again. " I've no objection to take you that way. Say makes 
 away with himself." 
 
 ""Kills himself, in fact," said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. 
 
 "Just so," replied Mr. Simmery, putting it down. " 'Flasher 
 ten guineas to five, Boffer kills himself.' Within what time shall we 
 say?" 
 
 " A fortnight ? " suggested Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. 
 
 " Con-found it, no ; " rejoined Mr. Simmery, stopping for an instant 
 to smash a fly with the ruler. " Say a week." 
 
 " Split the difference," said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. " Make it 
 ten days." 
 
 " Well ; ten days," rejoined Mr. Simmery. 
 
 So, it was entered down in the little books that Boffer was to kill 
 himself within ten days, or Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was to hand over 
 to Frank Simmery, Esquire, the sum of ten guineas ; and that if 
 Boffer did kill himself within that time, Frank Simmery, 'Esquire, 
 would pay to Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, five guineas, instead. 
 
 " I'm very sorry he has failed," said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. 
 " Capital dinners he gave." 
 
 " Fine port he had too," remarked Mr. Simmery. " We are going 
 to send our butler to the sale to-morrow, to pick up some of that 
 sixty-four." 
 
 " The devil you are !" said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. " My man's 
 going too. Five guineas my man outbids your man." 
 
 " Done." 
 
 Another entry was made in the little books, with the gold pencil- 
 cases ; and Mr. Simmery having by this time killed all the flies and 
 taken all the bets, strolled away to the Stock Exchange to see what 
 was going forward. 
 
 Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, now condescended to receive Mr. Solomon 
 Pell's instructions ; and having filled up some printed forms, requested 
 the party to follow him to the Bank, which they did : Mr. Weller and 
 his three friends staring at all they beheld in unbounded astonishment,
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 593 
 
 and Sam encountering every thing with a coolness which nothing could 
 disturb. 
 
 Crossing a court-yard which was all noise and bustle ; and passing 
 a couple of porters who seemed dressed to match the red fire-engine 
 which was wheeled away into a corner, they passed into an office where 
 their business was to be transacted, where Pell and Mr. Flasher left 
 them standing for a few moments, while they went up stairs into the 
 Will Office. 
 
 " Wot place is this here ? " whispered the mottled-faced gentleman 
 to the elder Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Counsel's Office," replied the executor in a whisper. 
 
 " Wot are them genl'men a settin' behind the counters ? " asked the 
 hoarse coachman. 
 
 " Reduced counsels, I s'pose," replied Mr. Weller. "Ain't they 
 the reduced counsels, Samivel ? " 
 
 tc Wy, you don't suppose the reduced counsels is alive, do you ? " 
 enquired Sam, with some disdain. 
 
 " How should I know ? " retorted Mr. Weller ; " I thought they 
 looked wery like it. Wot are they, then ? " 
 
 " Clerks," replied Sam. 
 
 " Wot are they all a eatin' ham sangwidges for ? " enquired bis 
 father. 
 
 " 'Cos it's in their dooty, I suppose," replied Sam, " it's a part o' 
 the system ; they're alvays a doin' it here, all day long ! " 
 
 Mr. Weller and his friends had scarcely had a moment to reflect 
 upon this singular regulation as connected with the monetary system 
 of the country, when they were rejoined by Pell and Wilkins Flasher, 
 Esquire, who led them to a part of the counter above which was a 
 round black board with a large " W " on it. 
 
 " Wot's that for, Sir ? " enquired Mr. Weller, directing Pell's atten- 
 tion to the target in question. 
 
 " The first letter of the name of the deceased," replied Pell. 
 
 " I say," said Mr. Weller, turning round to the umpires. " There's 
 somethin' wrong here. We's our letter this won't do." 
 
 The referees at once gave it as their decided opinion that the business 
 could not be legally proceeded with, under the letter W, and in all pro- 
 bability it would have stood over for one day at least, had it not been 
 for the prompt though at first sight undutiful behaviour of Sam, who 
 seizing his father by the skirt of the coat, dragged him to the counter, 
 and pinned him there until he had affixed his signature to a couple of 
 instruments, which from Mr. Weller's habit of printing, was a work of 
 so much labour and time that the officiating clerk peeled and cut three 
 Ripstone pippins while it was performing. 
 
 As the elder Mr. Weller insisted on selling out his portion forth- 
 with, they proceeded from the Bank to the gate of the Stock Exchange, 
 to which Wilkins Flasher, Esq., after a short absence, returned with 
 a cheque on Smith, Payne, & Smith, for five hundred and thirty pounds, 
 that being the sum of money to which Mr. Weller at the market price 
 of the day, was entitled, in consideration of the balance of the second 
 Mrs. Weller's funded savings. Sam's two hundred pounds stood
 
 594 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 transferred to his name, and Wilkins Flasher, Esq., having been paid 
 his commission, dropped the money carelessly into his coat pocket, and 
 lounged back to his office. 
 
 Mr. Weller was at first obstinately determined upon cashing the 
 cheque in nothing but sovereigns ; but on its being represented by the 
 umpires that by so doing he must incur the expense of a small sack to 
 carry them home in, he consented to receive the amount in live-pound 
 notes. 
 
 " My son," said Mr. Weller as they came out of the banking-house, 
 " my son and me has a wery partickler engagement this arternoon, and 
 I should like to have this here bis'ness settled out of hand, so let's jest 
 go straight avay someveres, vere ve can hordit the accounts." 
 
 A quiet room was soon found, and the accounts were produced and 
 audited. Mr. Pell's bill was taxed by Sam, andT some charges were 
 disallowed by the umpires ; but, notwithstanding Mr. Pell's declaration, 
 accompanied with many solemn asseverations that they were really too 
 hard upon him, it was by very many degrees the best professional job 
 he had ever had, and one on which he boarded, lodged, and washed, for 
 six months afterwards. 
 
 The umpires having partaken of a dram, shook hands and departed, 
 as they had to drive out of town that night. Mr. Solomon Pell, finding 
 that nothing more was going forward either in the eating or drinking 
 way, took a most friendly leave j and Sam and his father were left 
 alone - 
 
 " There," said Mr. Weller, thrusting his pocket book in his side 
 pocket, " vith the bills for the lease and that, there's eleven hundred 
 and eighty pound here. Now Samivel, my boy, turn the horse's heads 
 to the George and Wulter." 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 AN IMPORTANT CONFERENCE TAKES PLACE BETWEEN MR. PICKWICK 
 AND SAMUEL WELLER, AT WHICH HIS PARENT ASSISTS. AN OLD 
 GENTLEMAN IN A SNUFF-COLOURED SUIT ARRIVES UNEXPECTEDLY. 
 
 MR. PICKWICK was sitting alone, musing over many things, and 
 thinking, among other considerations, how he could best provide for 
 the young couple whose present unsettled condition was matter of 
 constant regret and anxiety to him, when Mary stepped lightly into the 
 room, and, advancing to the table, said rather hastily 
 
 " Oh, if you please Sir, Samuel is down stairs, and he says may his 
 father see you ? " 
 
 " Surely," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Thank you, Sir," said Mary, tripping towards the door again. 
 
 " Sam has not been here long, has he?" enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh no, Sir," replied Mary eagerly. " He has only just come home. 
 He is not going to ask you for any more leave, Sir, he says."
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 595. 
 
 Mary might have been conscious that she had communicated this 
 last intelligence with more warmth than seemed actually necessary, or 
 she might have observed the good-humoured smile with which Mr. 
 Pickwick regarded her when she had finished speaking. She certainly 
 held down her head, and examined the corner of a very smart little 
 apron with more closeness than there appeared any absolute occasion for. 
 
 " Tell them they can come up at once, by all means," said Mr. Pick- 
 wick. 
 
 Mary, apparently much relieved, hurried away with her message. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick took two or three turns up and down the room ; and, 
 rubbing his chin with his left hand as lie did so, appeared lost in 
 thought. 
 
 "Well, well," said Mr. Pickwick at length, in a kind but somewhat 
 melancholy tone, " it is the best way in which I could reward him for 
 his attachment and fidelity ; let it be so, in Heaven's name. It is the 
 fate of a lonely old man, that those about him should form new and 
 different attachments and leave him. I have no right to expect that it 
 should be otherwise with me. No, no," added Mr. Pickwick more 
 cheerfully, " it would be selfish and ungrateful. I ought to be happy 
 to have an opportunity of providing for him so well. I am of course 
 I am." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick had been so absorbed in these reflections, that a knock 
 at the door was three or four times repeated before he heard it. Hastily 
 seating himself, and calling up his accustomed pleasant looks, he gave 
 the required permission, and Sam Weller entered., followed by his 
 father. 
 
 " Glad to see you back again, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. " How 
 do you do, Mr. Weller ? " 
 
 " Wery hearty, thankee Sir," replied the widower; "hope I see 
 you well, Sir." 
 
 " Quite, I thank you," replied Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " I wanted to have a little bit o' conwersation with you, Sir," said 
 Mr. Weller, " if you could spare me five minits or so. Sir." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Mr. Pickwick. " Sam, give your father a 
 chair." 
 
 '"Thankee, Samivel, I've got a cheer here," said Mr. Weller, 
 bringing one forward as he spoke ; " uncommon fine day it's been, 
 Sir," added the old gentleman, laying his hat on the floor as he set 
 himself down. 
 
 "Remarkably so indeed," replied Mr. Pickwick. " Very season- 
 able." 
 
 " Seasonablest veather I ever see, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller. Here 
 the old gentleman was seized with a violent fit of coughing, which being 
 terminated, he nodded his head, and winked, and made several suppli- 
 catory and threatening gestures to his son, all of which Sam Weller 
 steadily abstained from seeing. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, perceiving that there was some embarrassment on 
 the old gentleman's part, affected to be engaged in cutting the leaves 
 of a book that lay beside him ; and waited patiently until Mr. Weller 
 should arrive at the object of his visit.
 
 596 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " I never see sich a aggerawatin' boy as you are, Samivel,''" said Mr, 
 Weller, looking indignantly at his son ; '' never in all my born days." 
 
 " What is he doing, Mr. Weller ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "He von't begin, Sir," rejoined Mr. Weller; "he knows I ain't 
 ekal to ex-pressin' myself ven there's any thin' parlickler to be done, 
 and yet he'll stand and see me a settin' here takin' up your walable 
 time, and makin' a reg'lar spectacle o' myself, rayther than help me 
 out vith a syllable. It ain't filial conduct, Samivel," said Mr. Weller, 
 wiping his forehead ; " wery far from it." 
 
 " You said you'd speak," replied Sam ; " how should I know you 
 vros done up at the wery beginnin' ? " 
 
 " You might ha' seen I warn't able to start," rejoined his father ; 
 " I'm on the wrong side of the road, and backin'.into the palins and all 
 manner of unpleasantness, and yet you von't put out a hand to help 
 me. I'm ashamed on you, Samivel."" 
 
 " The fact is, Sir," said Sam, with a slight bow, " the gov'ner's been 
 a drawin' his money." 
 
 "Wery good, Samivel, wery good," said Mr. Weller, nodding his 
 head with a satisfied air, " I didn't mean to speak harsh to you, 
 Sammy. Wery good. That's the vay to begin ; come to the pint at 
 once. Wery good indeed, Samivel." 
 
 Mr. Weller nodded his head an extraordinary number of times in 
 the excess of his gratification, and waited in a 'listening attitude for 
 Sam to resume his statement. 
 
 " You may sit down, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, apprehending that 
 the interview was likely to prove rather longer than he had expected. 
 
 Sam bowed again and sat down ; his father looking round, he con- 
 tinued, 
 
 " The gov'ner, Sir, has drawn out five hundred and thirty pound.*' 
 
 " Reduced counsels," interposed Mr. Weller, senior, in an under 
 tone. 
 
 "It don't much matter vether it's reduced counsels, or wot not," 
 said Sam ; " five hundred and thirty pound is the sum, ain't it ? " 
 
 " All right, Samivel," replied Mr. Weller. 
 
 " To vich sum, he has added for the house and bisness '' 
 
 " Lease, good-vill, stock, and fixters," interposed Mr. Weller. 
 
 " As much as makes it," continued Sam, " altogether, eleven 
 hundred and eighty pound." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Pickwick, ' I am delighted to hear it. I con- 
 gratulate yon, Mr. Weller, on having done so well." 
 
 ** Vait a minit, Sir," said Mr. Weller, raising his hand in a depre- 
 catory manner. " Get on, Samivel." 
 
 " This here money," said Sam, with a little hesitation, " he's anxious 
 to put someveres vere he knows it'll be safe, and I'm wery anxious too, 
 for if he keeps it, he'll go a lendin' it to somebody, or mwestin' pro- 
 perty in horses, or droppin' his pocket-book down a airy, or makiu' 
 an Egyptian mummy of his-self in some vay or another." 
 
 " Wery good, Samivel," observed Mr. Weller, in as complacent 
 a manner as if Sam had been passing the highest eulogiums on his 
 prudence and foresight. "Wery good/'
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 597 
 
 " For vich reasons," continued Sam, plucking nervously at the brim 
 of his hat ; " for vich reasons he's drawn it out to-day, and come here 
 vith me to sav, leastvays to offer, or in other vords to " 
 
 " To say this here," said the elder Mr. Weller, impatiently, " that it 
 ain't o' no use to me ; I'm a goin' to vork a coach reg'lar, and ha'nt 
 got noveres to keep it in, unless I vos to pay the guard for takin' care 
 on it, or to put it in vun o' the coach pockets, vich 'ud be a temptation to 
 the insides. If you'll take care on it for me, Sir, I shall be wery much 
 obliged to you. P'raps," said Mr. Weller, walking up to Mr. Pick- 
 wick and whispering in his ear, " p'raps it'll go a little vay towards the 
 expenses o' that 'ere conwiction. All I say is, just you keep it till 
 I ask you for it again." With these words, Mr. Weller placed the 
 pocket-book in Mr. Pickwick's hands, caught up his hat, and ran out 
 of the room with a celerity scarcely to be expected from so corpulent a 
 subject. 
 
 " Stop him, Sam," exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, earnestly. " Overtake 
 him ; bring him back instantly ! Mr. Weller here come back !" 
 
 Sam saw that his master's injunctions were not to be disobeyed ; and 
 catching his father by the arm as he was descending the stairs, dragged 
 him back by main force. 
 
 " My good friend," said Mr. Pickwick, taking the old man by the 
 hand ; " your honest confidence overpowers me." 
 
 " I don't see no occasion for nothin' o' the kind, Sir," replied Mr. 
 Weller, obstinately. 
 
 " I assure you, my good friend, I have more money than I can ever 
 need ; far more than a man at my age can ever live to spend," said 
 Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " No man knows how much he can spend till he tries," observed 
 Mr. Weller. 
 
 " Perhaps not," replied Mr. Pickwick ; " but as I have no intention 
 of trying any such experiments, I am not likely to come to want. ? 
 must beg you to take this back, Mr. Weller." 
 
 " Wery well," said Mr. Waller with a very discontented look. " Mark 
 Iny rords, Sammy, I'll do somethin' desperate vith this here property ; 
 somethin' desperate !" 
 
 " You'd better not," replied Sam. 
 
 Mr. Weller reflected for a short time, and then buttoning up his coat 
 with great determination, said 
 
 " I'll keep a pike." 
 
 " Wot ! " exclaimed Sam. 
 
 "A pike," rejoined Mr. Weller, through his set teeth ; " I'll keep a 
 pike. Say good b'ye to your father, Samivel ; I dewote the remainder 
 o' my days to a pike." 
 
 This threat was such an awful one, and Mr. Weller besides appear- 
 ing fully resolved to carry it into execution, seemed so deeply mortified 
 by Mr. Pickwick's refusal, that that gentleman, after a short reflec- 
 tion, said 
 
 " Well, well, Mr. Weller, I will keep the money. I can do more 
 good with it, perhaps, than you can." 
 
 T T 2
 
 598 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " Just the wery thing, to be sure," said Mr. Weller, brightening up ; 
 "o' course you can, Sir." 
 
 " Say no more about it," said Mr. Pickwick, locking the pocket-book 
 in his desk ; " I am heartily obliged to you, my good friend. Now sit 
 down again ; I want to ask your advice." 
 
 The internal laughter occasioned by the triumphant success of his 
 visit, which had convulsed not only Mr. Wt'ller's face, but his arms, 
 legs, and body also, during the locking up of the pocket-book, suddenly 
 gave place to" the most dignified gravity as he heard these words. 
 
 " Wait outside a few minutes, Sam, will you? '' said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 Sam immediately withdrew. 
 
 Mr. Weller looked uncommonly wise and very much amazed, when 
 Mr. Pickwick opened the discourse by saying 
 
 " You are not an advocate for matrimony, I think, Mr. Weller? " 
 
 Mr. Weller shook his head. He was wholly unable to speak ; for 
 vague thoughts of some wicked widow having been successful in her 
 designs upon Mr. Pickwick, choked his utterance. 
 
 " Did you happen to see a young girl down stairs when you came in 
 just now with your son ? " enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Yes I see a young gal," replied Mr. Weller, shortly. 
 
 "What did you think of her, now? Candidly, Mr. Weller, what did 
 you think of her ? " 
 
 " I thought she wos wery plump, and veil made," said Mr. Weller, 
 with a critical air. 
 
 " So she is," said Mr. Pickwick, " so she is. What did you think of 
 her manners, from what you saw of her ? '' 
 
 "Wery pleasant,'' rejoined Mr. Weller. "Wery pleasant and con- 
 formable." 
 
 The precise meaning which Mr. Weller attached to this last mentioned 
 adjective did not appear, but as it was evident from the tone in which 
 he used it that it was a favourable expression, Mr. Pickwick was as 
 well satisfied as if he had been thoroughly enlightened on the subject. 
 
 " I take a great interest in her, Mr. Weller," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 3 Jr. Weller coughed. 
 
 " I mean an interest in her doing well," resumed Mr. Pickwick ; ' ' a 
 desire that she may be comfortable and prosperous. You understand?" 
 
 " Wry clearly," replied Mr. Weller, who understood nothing yet. 
 
 "That young person," said Mr. Pickwick, "is attached to your 
 son ." 
 
 " To Samivel Veller ! " exclaimed the parent. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " It's nat'ral," said Mr. Weller, after some consideration, " nat'ral, 
 but rayther alarmin'. Sammy must be careful." 
 
 " How do you mean?" enquired Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Wery careful that he don't say nothin' to her," responded Mr. 
 Weller. " Wery careful that he ain't led avay in a innocent moment 
 to say anythin' as may lead to a conwiction for breach. You're never 
 safe vith 'em, Mr. Pickwick, ven they vunce has designs on you ; 
 there's no knowin' vere to have 'em, and vile you're a-considering of it
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 599 
 
 they have you. I \vos married fust, that vay myself, Sir, and Sammy 
 wos the cotisekens o' the manoover." 
 
 " You give me no great encouragement to conclude what I have to 
 say," observed Mr. Pickwick, " but I had better do so at onco. This 
 young person is not only attached to your son, Mr. Weller, but your 
 son is attached to her." 
 
 " Veil,'' said Mr. Weller, " this here's a pretty sort o' thing to come 
 to a father's ears, this is ! " 
 
 " I have observed them on several occasions," said Mr. Pickwick, 
 making no comment on Mr. Weller's last remark ; if and entertain no 
 doubt at all about it. Supposing 1 were desirous of establishing them 
 comfortably as man and wife in some little business or situation, where 
 they might hope to obtain a decent living, what should you think of it, 
 Mr. Weller?" 
 
 At first, Mr. Weller received with wry faces a proposition involving 
 the marriage of anybody in whom he took an interest, but as Mr. Pick- 
 wick argued the point with him, and laid great stress upon the fact that 
 Mary was not a widow, he gradually became more tractable. Mr. 
 Pickwick had great influence over him ; and he had been much struck 
 with Mary's appearance, having, in fact, bestowed several very un- 
 fatherly winks upon her, already. At length he said that it was not 
 for him to oppose Mr. Pickwick's inclination, and that he would be 
 very happy to yield to his advice ; upon which Mr. Pickwick joyfully 
 took him at his word and called Sam back into the room. 
 
 " Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, clearing his throat, " your father and I 
 have been having some conversation about you." 
 
 " About you, Samivel," said Mr. Weller, in a patronising and im- 
 pressive voice. 
 
 " I am not so blind, Sam, as not to have seen, a long time since, that 
 you entertain something more than a friendly feeling towards Mrs. 
 Winkle's maid," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " You hear this, Samivel ?'' said Mr. Weller in the same judicial form 
 of speech as before. 
 
 " I hope, Sir," said Sam, addressing his master, " I hope there's no 
 harm in a young man takin' notice of a yonng 'ooman as is undeniably 
 good-looking and veil-conducted." 
 
 '* Certainly not," said Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Not by no means,'' acquiesced Mr. Weller, affably but magis- 
 terially. 
 
 " So far from thinking that there is anything wrong in conduct so 
 natural," resumed Mr. Pickwick, " it is my wish to assist and promote 
 your wishes in this respect. With this vie'w I have had a little conver- 
 sation with your father, and finding that he is of my opinion " 
 
 " The lady not bein' a vidder," interposed Mr. "Weller in explana- 
 tion. 
 
 " The lady not being a widow," said Mr. Pickwick, smiling. " I 
 wish to free you from the restraint which your present position imposes 
 upon you : and to mark my sense of your fidelity and many excellent 
 qualities, by enabling you to marry this girl at once, and to earn an in- 
 dependent livelihood for yourself and family. I shall be proud, Sam,"
 
 600 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 said Mr. Pickwick, whose voice had faltered a little hitherto, but novr 
 resumed its customary tone, " proud and happy to make your future 
 prospects in life my grateful and peculiar care." 
 
 There was a profound silence for a short time, and then Sam said in. 
 a low husky sort of voice, but firmly withal 
 
 " I'm very much obliged to you for your goodness, Sir, as is only 
 like yourself, but it can't be done." 
 
 " Can't be done ! '' ejaculated Mr. Pickwick in astonishment. 
 
 " Samivel ! '' said Mr. Weller, with dignity. 
 
 " I say it can't be done," repeated Sam in a louder key. " Wot's to 
 become of you, Sir ? " 
 
 " My good fellow," replied Mr. Pickwick, " the recent changes among 
 my friends will alter my mode of life in future, entirely ; besides I am 
 growing older, and want repose and quiet. My rambles, Sam, are 
 over." 
 
 " How do I know that 'ere, Sir ?" argued Sam ; " you think so now ! 
 S'pose you wos to change your mind, vich is not unlikely, for you've the 
 spirit o' five-and-tventy in you still, what 'ud become on you vithout 
 me ? It can't be done, Sir, it can't be done." 
 
 " Wery good, Samivel, there's a good deal in that," said Mr. Weller, 
 encouragingly. 
 
 "I speak after long deliberation, Sam, and with the certainty that 
 I shall keep my word," said Mr. Pickwick, shaking his head. " New 
 scenes have closed upon me ; my rambles are at an end." 
 
 " Wery good," rejoined Sam. " Then that's the wery best reason wy 
 you should alvays have somebody by you as understands you, to keep 
 yon up and make you comfortable. If you vant a more polished sort o' 
 feller, veil and good, have him ; but vages or no vages, notice or no 
 notice, board or no board, lodgin* or no lodgin', Sam Veller, as you took 
 from the old inn in the Borough, sticks by you, come what come may ; 
 and let ev'rythin' and ev'rybody do their wery fiercest, nothin' shall 
 ever perwent it." 
 
 At the close of this declaration, which Sam made with great emotion, 
 the elder Mr. Weller rose from his chair, and forgetting all considera- 
 tions of time, place, or propriety, waved his hat above his head and 
 gave three vehement cheers. 
 
 " My good fellow," said Mr. Pickwick, when Mr. Weller had sat 
 down again, rather abashed at his own enthusiasm, " you are bound to 
 consider the young woman also." 
 
 " I do consider the young 'ooman, Sir," said Sam. " I have considered 
 the young 'ooman, I've spoke to her, I've told her how I'm sitivated, 
 she's ready to vait till I'm ready, and I believe she vill. If she don't, 
 she's not the young 'ooman I take her for, and I give her up vith 
 readiness. You've know'd me afore, Sir. My mind's made up, and 
 nothin' can ever alter it." 
 
 Who could combat this resolution? Not Mr. Pickwick. He 
 derived at that moment more pride and luxury of feeling from the 
 disinterested attachment of his humble friends, than ten thousand 
 protestations from the greatest men living could have awakened in his 
 heart.
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 601 
 
 While this conversation was passing in Mr. Pickwick's room, a little 
 old gentleman in a suit of snuff-coloured clothes, followed by a porter 
 carrying a small portmanteau, presented himself below; and after 
 securing a bed for the night, enquired of the waiter whether one Mrs. 
 Winkle was staying there, to which question the waiter of course 
 responded in the affirmative. 
 
 " Is she alone ?" enquired the little old gentleman. 
 
 " I believe she is, Sir," replied the waiter ; " I can call her own 
 maid, Sir, if you " 
 
 " No, I don't want her," said the old gentleman quickly. " Sho\r 
 me to her room without announcing me." 
 
 " Eh, Sir ?" said the waiter. 
 
 "Are you deaf? 1 ' enquired the little old gentleman. 
 
 " No, Sir." 
 
 " Then listen, if you please. Can you hear me now ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sir." 
 
 " That's well. Show me to Mrs. Winkle's room, without announc- 
 ing me." 
 
 As the little old gentleman uttered this command, he slipped fire 
 shillings into the waiter's hand, and looked steadily at him. 
 
 "Really, Sir," said the waiter, " I don't know Sir whether "* 
 
 " Ah ! you'll do it, I see," said the little old gentleman. " You had 
 better do it at once. It will save time." 
 
 There was something so very cool and collected in the gentleman's 
 manner, that the waiter put the five shillings in his pocket, and led 
 him up stairs without another word. 
 
 " This is the room, is it " said the gentleman. " You may go." 
 
 The waiter complied, wondering much who the gentleman could be, 
 and what he wanted ; the little old gentleman waiting till he was out 
 of sight, tapped at the door. 
 
 " Come in," said Arabella. 
 
 " Urn, a pretty voice at any rate," murmured the little old gentleman ; 
 "but that's nothing." As he said this, he opened the door and walked 
 in. Arabella, who was sitting at work, rose on beholding a stranger 
 a little confused, but by no means ungracefully so. 
 
 " Pray don't rise, Ma'am," said the unknown, walking in and closing 
 the door after him. " Mrs. Winkle, I believe?" 
 
 Arabella inclined her head. 
 
 " Mrs. Nathaniel Winkle, who married the son of the old man at 
 Birmingham?" said the stranger, eyeing Arabella with visible 
 curiosity. 
 
 Again Arabella inclined her head, and looked uneasily round, as if 
 uncertain whether to call for assistance. 
 
 " I surprise you, I see, Ma'am," said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Rather, I confess," replied Arabella, wondering more and more. 
 
 " I'll take a chair, if you'll allow me, Ma'am," said the stranger. 
 
 He took one ; and drawing a spectacle-case from his pocket, leisurely 
 pulled out a pair of spectacles, which he adjusted on his nose. 
 
 " You don't know me, Ma'am?" he said, looking so intently at 
 Arabella, that she began to feel quite alarmed.
 
 602 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 " No, Sir," she replied, timidly. 
 
 " No," said the gentleman, nursing his left leg; " I don't know* how 
 you should. You know my name, though, Ma'am." 
 
 " Do I?" said Arabella, trembling, though she scarcely knew why. 
 " May I ask what it is ? " 
 
 " Presently, Ma'am, presently," said the stranger, not having yet re- 
 moved his eyes from her countenance. " You have been recently 
 married, Ma'am." 
 
 " I have," replied Arabella, in a scarcely audible tone, laying aside 
 her work, and becoming greatly agitated as a thought, that had oc- 
 curred to her before, struck more forcibly upon her mind. 
 
 " Without having represented to your husband the propriety of first 
 consulting his father, on whom he is dependent, I think ? " said the 
 stranger. 
 
 Arabella applied her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 " Without an endeavour even to ascertain, by some indirect appeal, 
 what were the old man's sentiments on a point in which he would 
 naturally feel much interested," said the stranger. 
 " I cannot deny it, Sir," said Arabella. 
 
 " And without having sufficient property of your own to afford your 
 Imsband any permanent assistance in exchange for the worldly ad- 
 vantages which you knew he would have gained if he had married 
 agreeably to his father's wishes," said the old gentleman. " This is 
 what boys and girls call disinterested affection, till they have boys and 
 girls of their own, and then they see it in a rougher and very different 
 light." 
 
 Arabella's tears flowed fast, as she pleaded in extenuation that she 
 was young and inexperienced ; that her attachment had alone induced 
 her to take the step to which she had resorted, and that she had been 
 deprived of the counsel and guidance of her parents almost from 
 infancy. 
 
 " It was wrong," said the old gentleman in a milder tone, " very 
 wrong. It was romantic, unbusiness-like, foolish." 
 
 " It was my fault; all my fault, Sir," replied poor Arabella, 
 weeping. 
 
 " Nonsense," said the old gentleman, " it was not your fault that he 
 fell in love with you, I suppose. Yes it was though," said the old 
 gentleman, looking rather slyly at Arabella. " It was your fault. He 
 couldn't help it." 
 
 This little compliment, or the little gentleman's odd way of paying 
 it, or his altered manner so much kinder than it was at first or all 
 three together, forced a smile from Arabella in the midst of her 
 tears. 
 
 " Where's your husband ? " enquired the old gentleman, abruptly ; 
 stopping a smile which was just coming over his own face. 
 
 " I expect him every instant, Sir/' said Arabella. " I persuaded 
 him to take a walk this morning. He is very low and wretched at not 
 having heard from his father." 
 
 . " Low, is he ? '' said the old gentleman. " Serve him right." 
 "He feels it on my account, I am afraid," said Arabella ; "and
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 603 
 
 indeed, Sir, I feel it deeply on his. I have been the sole means of 
 bringing him to his present condition." 
 
 "Don't mind it on his account, my dear," said the old gentleman. 
 " It serves him right. I am glad of it actually glad of it, as far as 
 he is concerned." 
 
 The words were scarcely out of the old gentleman's lips, when foot- 
 steps were heard ascending the stairs, which he and Arabella seemed 
 both to recognize at the same moment. The little gentleman turned 
 pale ; and making a strong effort to appear composed, stood up as Mr. 
 Winkle entered the room. 
 
 " Father ! " said Mr. Winkle, recoiling in amazement. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," replied the little old gentleman. Well, Sir, what 
 have you got to say to me ? " 
 
 Mr. Winkle remained silent. 
 
 " You are ashamed of yourself, I hope, Sir," said the old gentleman. 
 
 Still Mr. Winkle said nothing. 
 
 " Are you ashamed of yourself, Sir, or are you not ? " enquired the 
 old gentleman. 
 
 " No, Sir," replied Mr. Winkle, drawing Arabella's arm through 
 his. " I am not ashamed of myself, or of my wife either." 
 
 '' Upon my word !'' cried the old gentleman, ironically. 
 
 " I am very sorry to have done anything which has lessened your 
 affection for me, Sir," said Mr. Winkle ; " but I will say at the same 
 time, that I have no reason to be ashamed of having this lady for my 
 wife, or you for having her for a daughter." 
 
 " Give me your hand, Nat.," said the old gentleman in an altered voice. 
 " Kiss me, my love ; you art a very charming daughter-in-law after all !" 
 
 In a few minutes' time Mr. Winkle went in search of Mr. Pickwick, 
 and returning with that gentleman, presented him to his father, 
 whereupon they shook hands for five minutes incessantly- 
 
 " Mr. Pickwick, I thank you most heartily for all your kindness to 
 my son," said old Mr. Winkle, in a bluff, straightforward way. " I am 
 a hasty fellow, and when I saw you last, I was vexed and taken by 
 surprise. I have judged for myself now, and am more than satisfied. 
 Shall I make any more apologies, Mr. Pickwick ? " 
 
 " Not one," replied that gentleman. " You have done the only 
 thing wanting to complete my happiness." 
 
 Hereupon there was another shaking of hands for five minutes 
 longer, accompanied by a great number of complimentary speeches, 
 which, besides being complimentary, had the additional and very novel 
 Tecommendation of being sincere. 
 
 Sam had dutifully seen his father to the Belle Sauvage, when, on re- 
 turning, he encountered the fat boy in the court, who had been charged 
 with the delivery of a note from Emily Wardle. 
 
 " I say," said Joe, who was unusually loquacious, " what a pretty 
 girl Mary is, isn't she ? I am so fond of her, I am ! " 
 
 Mr. Weller made no verbal remark in reply, but eyeing the fat boy 
 for a moment, quite transfixed at his presumption, led him by the 
 Collar to the corner, and dismissed him with a harmless but ceremo- 
 nious kick ; after which, he walked home, whistling.
 
 604 POSTHUMOUS PAPKRS OP 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 IK WHICH THE PICKWICK CLUB IS FINALLY DISSOLVED, AHD 
 EVERYTHING CONCLUDED TO THE SATISFACTION OF EVERY- 
 BODY. 
 
 FOR a whole week after the happy arrival of Air. Winkle from 
 Birmingham, Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller were from home all day 
 long, only returning just in time for dinner, and then wearing an air 
 of mystery and importance quite foreign to their natures. It was 
 evident that very grave and eventful proceedings were on foot, but 
 various surmises were afloat respecting their precise character. Some 
 (among whom was Mr. Tupman) were disposed to think that Mr. 
 Pickwick contemplated a matrimonial alliance, but this idea the ladies 
 most strenuously repudiated ; others rather inclined to the belief that 
 he had projected some distant tour, and was at present occupied in 
 effecting the preliminary arrangements, but this again was stoutly 
 denied by Sam himself, who had unequivocally stated, when cross- 
 examined by Mary, that no new journeys were to be undertaken. At 
 length, when the brains of the whole party had been racked for six 
 long days by unavailing speculation, it was unanimously resolved that 
 Mr. Pickwick should be called upon to explain his conduct, and to 
 state distinctly why he had thus absented himself from the society of 
 his admiring friends. 
 
 With this view, Mr. Wardle invited the full circle to dinner at the 
 Adelphi, and the decanters having been twice sent round, opened the 
 business. 
 
 " We are all anxious to know,'' said the old gentleman, " what we 
 have done to offend you, and to induce you to desert us and devote 
 yourself to these solitary walks." 
 
 " Are you ? " said Mr. Pickwick. " It is singular enough that I 
 had intended to volunteer a full explanation this very day, so if you 
 will give me another glass of wine I will satisfy your curiosity." 
 
 The decanters passed from hand to hand with unwonted briskness, 
 and Mr. Pickwick looking round on the faces of his friends with a 
 cheerful smile, proceeded 
 
 "All the changes that have taken place among us," said Mr. 
 Pickwick, "I mean the marriage that has taken place, and the 
 marriage that will take place, with the changes they involve, rendered 
 it necessary for me to think soberly and at once upon my future 
 plans. I determined on retiring to some quiet, pretty neighbourhood 
 in the vicinity of London ; I saw a house which exactly suited my 
 fancy. 1 have taken it and furnished it. It is fully prepared for my 
 reception, and I intend entering upon it at once, trusting that I may 
 yet live to spend many quiet years in peaceful retirement ; cheered 
 through life by the society of my friends, and followed in death by 
 their affectionate remembrance."
 
 THK PICKWICK CLUB. 603 
 
 Here Mr. Pickwick paused, and a low murmur ran round the 
 table. 
 
 " The house I have taken," said Mr. Pickwick, " is at Dulwich ; 
 it has a large garden, and is situated in one of the most pleasant spots 
 near London. It has been fitted up with every attention to sub- 
 stantial comfort ; perhaps to a little elegance besides ; but of that jou 
 shall judge for yourselves. Sam accompanies me there. I hare 
 engaged, on Perker's representation, a housekeeper a very old one 
 and such other servants as she thinks I shall require. I propose to 
 consecrate this little retreat by having a ceremony, in which I take a 
 great interest, performed there. I wish, if my friend Wardle entertains 
 no objection, that his daughter should be married from my new house, 
 on the day I take possession of it. The happiness of young people," 
 said Mr. Pickwick, a little moved, " has ever been the chief pleasure 
 of my life. It will warm my heart to witness the happiness of those 
 friends who are dearest to me, beneath my own roof." 
 
 Mr. Pickwick paused again : and Emily and Arabella sobbed 
 audibly. 
 
 " I have communicated, both personally and by letter, with the club,'' 
 resumed Mr. Pickwick, " acquainting them with my intention. 
 During our long absence it has suffered much from internal dissen- 
 sions ; and the withdrawal of my name, coupled with this and other 
 circumstances, has occasioned its dissolution. The Pickwick Club 
 exists no longer." 
 
 " I shall never regret,' 5 said Mr. Pickwick in a low voice " I shall 
 never regret having devoted the greater part of two years to mixing 
 with different varieties and shades of human character, frivolous as 
 my pursuit of novelty may have appeared to many. Nearly the whole 
 of my previous life having been devoted to business and the pursuit of 
 wealth, numerous scenes of which I had no previous conception have 
 dawned upon me I hope to the enlargement of my mind, and the 
 improvement of my understanding. If I have done but little good, 
 I trust I have done less harm, and that none of my adventures will 
 be other than a source of amusing and pleasant recollections to me in 
 the decline of life. God bless you all." 
 
 With these words, Mr. Pickwick filled and drained a bumper with 
 a trembling hand ; and his eyes moistened as his friends rose with one 
 accord and pledged him from their hearts. 
 
 There were very few preparatory arrangements to be made for the 
 marriage of Mr. Snodgrass. As he had neither father nor mother, and 
 had been in his minority a ward of Mr. Pickwick's, that gentleman was 
 perfectly well acquainted with his possessions and prospects. His 
 account of both was quite satisfactory to Wardle as almost any other 
 account would have been, for the good old gentleman was overflowing 
 with hilarity and kindness and a handsome portion, having been 
 bestowed upon Emily, the marriage was fixed to take place on the 
 fourth day from that time ; the suddenness of which preparations 
 reduced three dress-makers and a tailor to the extreme verge of 
 insanity. 
 
 Getting post-horses to the carriage, old Wardle started off next day,
 
 606 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 to bring his mother up to town. Communicating his intelligence to 
 the old lady with characteristic impetuosity, she instantly fainted away, 
 but being promptly revived, ordered the brocaded silk gown to be 
 packed up forthwith, and proceeded to relate some circumstances of a 
 similar nature attending the marriage of the eldest daughter of lady 
 Tollinglower, deceased, which occupied three hours in the recital, and 
 were not half finished at last. 
 
 Mrs. Trundle had to be informed of all the mighty preparations that 
 were making in London ; and being in a delicate state of health was 
 informed thereof through Mr. Trundle, lest the news should be too much 
 for her ; but it was not too much for her, inasmuch as she at once wrote 
 off to Muggleton to order a new cap and a black satin gown, and 
 moreover avowed her determination of being present at the ceremony. 
 Hereupon Mr. Trundle called in the doctor, and the doctor said Mrs. 
 Trundle ought to know best how she felt herself, to which Mrs. 
 Trundle replied that she felt herself quite equal to it, and that she 
 Lad made up her mind to go ; upon which the doctor, who was a wise 
 aud discreet doctor, and knew what was good for himself as well as for 
 other people, said, that perhaps if Mrs. Trundle stopped at home she 
 might hurt herself more by fretting than by going, so perhaps she had 
 better go. And she did go ; the doctor with great attention sending 
 in half a dozen of medicine to be drunk upon the road. 
 
 In addition to these points of distraction, Wardle was entrusted 
 with two small letters to two small young ladies who were to act as 
 bridesmaids ; upon the receipt of which, the two young ladies were 
 driven to despair by having HO " things" ready for so important an 
 occasion, and no time to make them in a circumstance which appeared 
 to afford the two worthy papas of the two small young ladies rather a 
 feeling of satisfaction "than otherwise. However, old frocks were 
 trimmed and new bonnets made, and the young ladies looked as well 
 as could possibly have been expected of them ; and as they cried at the 
 subsequent ceremony in the proper places and trembled at the right 
 times, they acquitted themselves to the admiration of all beholders. 
 
 How the two poor relations ever reached London whether they 
 walked, or got behind coaches, or procured lifts in wagons, or carried 
 each other is uncertain, but there they were, before Wardle ; and the 
 very first people that knocked at the door of Mr. Pickwick's house on 
 the bridal morning, were the two poor relations, all smiles and 
 shirt collar. 
 
 They were welcomed heartily though, for riches or poverty had no 
 influence on Mr. Pickwick ; the new servants were all alacrity and readi- 
 ness : Sam in a most unrivalled state of high spirits and excitement, 
 and Mary glowing with beauty and smart ribands. 
 
 The bridegroom, who had been staying at the house for two or three 
 days previously, sallied forth gallantly to Dulwich church to meet tke 
 bride, attended by Mr. Pickwick, Ben Allen, Bob Sawyer, and Mr. 
 Tupman, with Sam Weller outside, having at his button hole a white 
 favour, the gift of his lady love, and clad in a new and gorgeous suit 
 
 _r V; . i "i < .1 mi _ _.. i *!._ 
 
 of livery invented expressly for the occasion. They were met by th 
 \Vardles", and the Winkles, and the bride and bridesmaids, and th 
 
 the
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. bOy 
 
 Trundles ; and the ceremony having been performed, the coaches 
 rattled back to Mr. Pickwick's to breakfast, where little Mr. Perker 
 already awaited them. 
 
 Here, all the light clouds of the more solemn part of the proceedings 
 passed away ; every face shone forth joyously, and nothing was to be 
 heard but congratulations and commendations. Everything was so 
 beautiful ! The lawn in front, the garden behind, the miniature con- 
 servatory, the dining-room, the drawing-room, the bed-rooms, the 
 smoking-room, and above all the study with its pictures and easy chairs, 
 and odd cabinets, and queer tables, and books out of number, with a 
 large cheerful window opening upon a pleasant lawn and commanding 
 a pretty landscape, just dotted here and there with little houses almost 
 hidden by the trees ; and then the curtains, and the carpets, and the 
 chairs, and the sofas ! Everything was so beautiful, so compact, so neat 
 and in such exquisite taste, said every body, that there really was no 
 deciding what to admire most. 
 
 And in the midst of all this, stood Mr. Pickwick, his countenance 
 lighted up with smiles, which the heart of no man, woman, or child, 
 could resist : himself the happiest of the group, shaking hands over and 
 over again with the same people, and when his own were not so 
 employed, rubbing them with pleasure ; turning round in a different 
 direction at every fresh expression of gratification or curiosity, and 
 inspiring every body with his looks of gladness and delight. 
 
 Breakfast is announced. Mr. Pickwick leads the old lady (who 
 has been very eloquent on the subject of Lady Tollinglower), to the 
 top of a long table ; Wardle takes the bottom, the friends arrange 
 themselves on either side, Sam takes his station behind his master's 
 chair, the laughter and talking cease; Mr. Pickwick having said grace, 
 pauses for an instant and looks round him. As he does so, the tears 
 roll down his cheeks in the fullness of his joy. 
 
 Let us leave our old friend in one of those moments of unmixed 
 happiness, of which, if we seek them, there are ever some to cheer our 
 transitory existence here. There are dark shadows on the earth, but its 
 lights are stronger in the contrast. Some men, like bats or owls, have 
 better eyes for the darkness than for the light ; we, who have no such 
 optical powers, are better pleased to take our last parting look at the 
 visionary companions of many solitary hours, when the brief sunshine 
 of the world is blazing full upon them. 
 
 IT is the fate of most men who mingle with the world and attain 
 even the prime of life, to make many real friends, and lose them in the 
 course of nature. It is the fate of all authors or chroniclers to create 
 imaginary friends, and lose them in the course of art. Nor is this the 
 full extent of their misfortunes ; for they are required to furnish an 
 account of them besides. 
 
 In compliance with this custom unquestionably a bad one we 
 subjoin a few biographical words in relation to the party at Mr. Pick- 
 wick's assembled.
 
 608 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Winkle being fully received into favour by the old 
 gentleman, were shortly afterwards "installed in a newly built house, 
 not half a mile from Mr. Pickwick's. Mr. Winkle being engaged in 
 the city as agent or town correspondent of his father, exchanged his old 
 costume for the ordinary dress of Englishmen, and presented all the 
 external appearance of a civilised Christian ever afterwards. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass settled at Dingley Dell, where they pur- 
 chased and cultivated a small farm, more for occupation than profit. 
 Mr. Snodgrass, being occasionally abstracted and melancholy, is to this 
 day reputed a great poet among his friends and acquaintance, although 
 we do not find that he has ever "written anything to encourage the belief. 
 We know many celebrated characters, literary, philosophical, and 
 otherwise, who hold a high reputation on a similar tenure. 
 
 Mr. Tupman, when his friends married and Mr. Pickwick settled, 
 took lodgings at Richmond, where he has ever since resided. He 
 walks constantly on the Terrace during the summer months, with a 
 youthful and janty air, which has rendered him the admiration of the 
 numerous elderly "ladies of single condition, who reside in the vicinity. 
 He has never proposed again. 
 
 31 r. Bob Sawyer, having previously passed through the Gazette, 
 passed over to Bengal, accompanied by Mr. Benjamin Allen, both 
 gentlemen having received surgical appointments from the East India 
 Company. They each had the yellow fever fourteen times, and then 
 resolved to try a little abstinence, since which period they have been 
 doing well. 
 
 Mrs. Bardell let lodgings to many conversable single gentlemen 
 with great profit, but never brought any more actions for a breach of 
 promise of marriage. Her attorneys, Messrs. Dodson and Fogg, con- 
 tinue in business, from which they realise a large income, and in which 
 they are universally considered among the sharpest of the sharp. 
 
 Sam Weller kept his word, arid remained unmarried for two years. 
 The old housekeeper dying at the end of that time, Mr. Pickwick pro- 
 moted Mary to the situation, on condition of her marrying Mr. Weller 
 at once, which she did without a murmur. From the circumstance of 
 two sturdy little boys having been repeatedly seen at the gate of the 
 back garden, we have reason to suppose that Sam has some family. 
 
 The elder Mr. Weller drove a coach for twelve months, but being 
 afflicted with the gout, was compelled to retire. The contents of thl 
 pocket-book had been so well invested for him, however, by Mr. Pick- 
 wick, that he had a handsome independence to retire on, upon which 
 he still lives at an excellent public-house near Shooter's Hill, where 
 he is quite reverenced as an oracle, boasting very much of his intimacy 
 with Mr. Pickwick; and retaining a most unconquerable aversion to 
 widows. 
 
 Mr. Pickwick himself continued to reside in his new house, employing 
 his leisure hours in arranging the memoranda which he afterwards pre- 
 sented to the secretary of the once famous club, or in hearing Sam \\ eller 
 read aloud, with such remarks as suggested themselves to his mind, which 
 never failed to afford Mr. Pickwick great amusement. He was much 
 troubled at first by the numerous applications which were made to him
 
 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 609 
 
 by Mr. Snodgrass, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Trundle, to act as godfather 
 to their offspring, but he has become used to it now, and officiates as a 
 matter of course. He never had occasion to regret his bounty to Mr. 
 Jingle, for both that person and Job Trotter became in time worthy 
 members of society, although they have always steadily objected to re- 
 turn to the scenes of their old haunts and temptations. He is some- 
 what infirm now, but he retains all his former juvenility of spirit, and 
 may still be frequently seen contemplating the pictures in the Dulwich 
 Gallery, or enjoying a walk about the pleasant neighbourhood on a fine 
 day. He is known by all the poor people about, who never fail to 
 take their hats off as he passes with great respect ; the children idolise 
 him, and so indeed does the whole neighbourhood. Every year he 
 repairs to a large family merry-making at Mr. Wardle's ; on this, as 
 on all other occasions, he is invariably attended by the faithful Sam, 
 between whom and his master there exists a steady and reciprocal 
 attachment, which nothing but death will sever. 
 
 XII K END. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 IDEV'RY AND F.VANS, PRINTERS, 
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