Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 158: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

144 I shall live a hundred year. I eats a good breakfast—ditto dinner—and ditto supper : them’s the symptoms o’ the state o’ my health.” | “We're a-walking off the effects of last night's punch,” observed Mr. Knackers. “ Drinkin’ too much is wery bad for the nerves, gen’lemen,” said Mr. Weller. “ There wos vonce a begger o my ackvaintance as vent to be enrolled ina Temperance Society. Wery glad you've made up your mind to this at. last, Mr. Boucher, says the Secretary vith a vinning smile-—‘ Vy,’ says my friend, ‘as I can’t get no tick for gin, [ may as vell make a merit o’necessity.—‘ Wery true,’ says the Secretary ; ‘an’ ’'m conwinced you'll feel much better for it in a dayor two. Ardent pa eats avay the coats o’ the stomach. — ‘Vell, Pm exceedin’ glad ‘to hear as how my stomach has got a coat to‘it, sir, says the beggar, ‘cos ’m blowed if my back has.” ,“ Devilish good, that,” exclaimed Mr. Por- rett. “ But we shouldnt have come it so very strong last night, if some one had’nt stood Moses—a deuced good fellow he was too; ‘wasn’t he, Knackers ?” “Capital!” cried the gentleman thus ap- pealed to. “ He is an out-an’-out Englishman —a man who can stand his four pots of in- termediate beer without blushing, afore din- ver, and his half of a crown bowl arterwards. He only come to Paris last night. __ . “JT forgot to ask his name,” said Mr. Por- fett ; “and that was wrong on our:part, ’cause he’s a noble fellow. He’s come to see a near relation o’ his, he told us; but as it was very late last night, he didn’t choose to disturb the family wherehis relation lived; so he sat up till half-past two with us—didn’t he, Knack- ers ¢” : “To be sure he did,” returned Mr. Knack- ers. “But Im afraid he’s precious green in this country ; and if he don’t take care, he'll get fleeced of every thing he possesses be- fore he can look round him.” “So wery green, is he ?” said Sam, “Very,” said Mr..Knackers. “ Cabbages and peas is nothin’ to him, I s’pose,’ continued Mr. Weller. _ “Nothing,” returned MrgKnackers, “He's come over with his tops and cords, and his broad-brimmed tile ; just for all the world like a coachman: and, my eye, what a red face !” he “'Vhere is this phernomenon ?” demanded Sam, beginning to be somewhat interested in the description of the generous stranger, “We left him at breakfast at Wood’s,” BY PICKWICK ABROAD. answered Mr. Porrett. “Hé said he should just lay in a couple of pound of Cold beet or so, and imbibe a bottle of English stout, in order to fortify his feelings to endure the meeting with the relation he’s come over to see.” “Vell, this is rayther singular,” said Sam, after a moment’s consideration ; “an’ yet I don’t think as how it can be the old un. There is a many stout genlemen in the vorld besides my father.” “Curiosity is very soon satisfied in this respect,” observed Mr. Porrett. “Come along with us, and we'll introduce you to the private gen’leman in question.” “ Agreed, as Doctor Faustus said, ven he sold his-self to the devil,” cried Sam; and the three gentlemen bent their steps up the Rue Richelieu, towards the Place des Ital- lens, accordingly. Arrived at Wood’s chop-house, Mr. ‘Por. rett peeped through the circular window in the door, and instantly informed Mr. Wel- ler in a whisper, that the stranger was still there. | “And what’s more remarkable still;” added Mr. Porrett, “ he’s just emptying his third bottle of stout.” “Time to put a stop to that ’ere,” said Sam; and pushing the door wide open, he walked very coolly into the tavern, and confronted no less a person than his excel- lent father, who was seated at one of the tables. wih ' “Vy, Samivel, is that you?’ exclaimed Mr. Weller, senior, opening his eyes, and raising his hands in astonishment: “how | wos it that you com’d for to find me out ? ‘But I sees how it wos; an’ instead o’ takin’ you by sapprize, you drops down on me like a four-year old.” | “Wot a old curiosity it is,” cried Sam, grasping his father’s hand, and seating him- self at the table opposite to him: “ the Na- tional Gallery o’ pickters ain’t nothin’ to you. Wot brought you over here %” “Vy, I'll tell you how it wos, Samivel,” said Mr. Weller, senior, jerking his head to the right, and winking his left eye in a pe- culiarly easy and graceful manner ; “I had such a wery good customer for the brandy and rum as I laid in at my public house on Shooter’s Hill, that I wery soon got quit 0 them articles. So I] had in another suppy o’ rum, and thinkin’ that o-de-we 1s muc better in this country than on tother side o’ the vater . “Then I s’pose you made a tolerably ‘ (COUN (9) LNOOKS.,.EO