Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 161: what you’re looking at

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PICKWICK ABROAD. “Wota old spectacle it is!” cried Sam. “Vere’s the use 0’ conwertin’ yourself into a punch or image ina galliwanty show, jist for the sake o’ amusin’ others ?” “ An’ then that there feller to fancy he wos von o’ the. leg-at-ease,” continued old Mr. Weller, again alluding to the red-nosed man. “ Legatees, Sir,” remonstrated Mr. Raw, ers. | “ Leg-at-ease, Sir,” cried the old gentle- man, indignantly. “Sammy and I has been leg-at-ease, Sir; an’ it would be a wery odd thin’ if so be ve didn’t know our own titles,” | “Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. Porrett, who probably had his own private reasons for not wishing to dispute with an individual whose disposition to pay was so manifest. “ Vell, vell,” ejaculated Mr. Weller, senior, “ve vont dispute about a trifle. The wer best o’ friends is rayther inclined to fall out now an then. Hosses gets restive, starts, bolts, backs agin a vall or into a ditch, an’ overturns the coach; but the wehicle’s soon lifted up again. So it is vith friendship, isn’t it, Samivel ?” “Don’t sit there a-gammonin’ avay at that rate, old un,” returned Mr. Samuel Weller. “The two bottles is all done for now; an’ as the guv’ner has giveyme a holiday—” “No!” cried the old gentleman, his countenance expanding with delight, “ has he raly, though ?” “True as you're there,” answered Sam. “ Let’s make the best on it, then, Sammy,” exclaimed his father, rising and preparing to pay the bill. “ Ive heerd talk o’ the Pally toyal, the Tooleries, the Bullwardes, an’ the coffee-houses ; an’ I shouldn't be at all sorry to make a more formiliar ackvaintance vith ‘em. Prhaps these genlemen'll jine us ina little ramble.” _“ With pleasure,” ejaculated Messieurs Knackers and Porrett. “Come along, then,” said Sam; and the four. gentlemen sallied forth upon their pro- jected excursion. CHAPTER XXXL The particulars of the ramble of Mr. Tony and Mr. Samue] Weller, accompanied by Messieurs Porrett and Knackers, through a small portion of Paris, are succinctl7 related in this chapter. It was a highly edifying spectacle, to be- hold Mr, Weller, senior, his son, and the two prize fighters, lounging through the streets of 147 Paris.. The first maintained his eyes and his mouth constantly wide open, in order to ex- press his astonishment at all he saw; the second walked along with the most imper turbable coolness, his hat over his left eye, his body in a swing, and his ee his pockets; and Messieurs Knackers and Por- rett discussed in very audible voices the par- ticulars of a fight which had taken place within thelr own memories some years pre- viously. . “ Wot’s that there, Sammy ?” demanded Mr. Weller, senior, stopping before a shop- window in which a great quantity of bank- notes and coins of all nations were exh bited. “ A money-changer’s” was the reply : “ if you vants a bank-note for a thousand «francs cashed, you gos in there and pays ten sous to have it done.” _~ | “Talvays heerd say the French was very ca preeshus, Sammy,” observed Mr. Weller, se- nior; “ an’ this proves it: but if they?re a constantly changin’ their money in that kind 0’ vay, wot’'ll they do vith their vives ?” “ Ah! wot indeed ?” cried Sam ; and as he could not answer the question with any de- gree of satisfaction to himself, he whistled a lively tune. “Wery bad pavement they has just here, Samivel,” remarked the old gentleman, as they were passing down the Rue Mont- martre ; “wot can be the reason o’ that there ?” “ Cos ven there’s a revylootion in this here country,” replied Mr. Weller, junior “the people as basn’t got no guns or bagginets, fights with pavin’ stones ; and as them kinds o popylar ebullitions is of wery frequent ok-kurrence in these parts, the pavin’-stones isn’t laid down exceedin’ tight, cos they doesn’t know how soon they may be rek- vire “ Wery vell explained, Samaivel,” cried Mr. Weller the Prey surveyl ~ son with the greatest admiration and delight “ And now tell your old father, Sammy, wot is that wery fat little gen’leman, in the blue regi- mentals vith spectacles on, a-sailin’ down the street vith the wery long sword as keeps gettin’ atween his legs ?” “ That’s a national guard,” answered Sam, “ Wot’s a naytional guard ?” demanded his father. “ Not the guard o’ the mail-coaches, is rt, Samivel ?” “ No, old grinnin’ face,” dutifully respondea Mr, Weller, junior: “ but von o’ the sogers as per-tects the pation.” ECORNICLOO® SS) (EO)