Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 162: what you’re looking at

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148 «A feller as mounts guard on his-self, eh, Samivel ?” cried the elder Mr. Weller. “ I des- say he’sa out-an-outer byvay of a soger, ’spe- tially at the mess-table, ven he gets over the biled beef” ri “ Wery rum chaps to deal vith, them na- tional guards is,” observed Sam. | “Is they though ?” said his father. “Ts they?” cried Sam, disdainfully: “is they not? Vy, it wos but a veek or two ago, that a English genleman as wos a-stay- in’ at Meurice’s hot-tel, ordered a pair o’ boots of a shoe-maker as wos re-commended _ -wery favorably to him. So the boots come home, and the gen’lemen tried ’em on; but they wos too big in von place, an’ too small in another. So the gen’leman flies in a passion, and blows up the boot-maker like nothin’ at all. ‘ Youre a wery impertinent feller, you air, says the gen’leman, ‘ to bring me sich a pair o’ boots as them there. I won't have them at no price’— But I means to have my price, howms’ever, cried the cobler ; and he swore that the boots wos ca- pital good uns.—‘ You shall make me another pair, says the gen’leman.—‘ I von't,’ says the cobler—‘ You shall,’ says the gen’leman, ‘ or else [ll kick you and the boots down stairs together vith as little ceremony as if you wos my own vife.—‘Do, says the cobler in a wery aggriwatin’ vay.—So the gen’leman did kick the chap down stairs.” “Ts that all, Samivel?’ said Mr. Weller the elder. “ Vy, how can it be all, ven I havn’t come to the pint yet ?” demanded his son, indignant at the interruption. “ Oh! now then to the pint ! cried the old gentleman. “A few hours elapsed,” continued Sam, “an’ the gentleman had quite forgot all about the boots, ven he receives a wisit from a chap ashe had never seen afore. ‘I’m come on the part o Mouwnseer Such-a-von,’ says he, to demand saytisfaction for the in- sult you putt upon him this mornin’, says he. —I ain't insulted no gentleman this mornin’, my dear Sir, says the Englishman. Yes, you have,’ says t’other—*‘ Who? demands the gen’leman.—‘ Vy, Mounseer Such-a-von, (never mind his name, cos I doesn’t know it now) ‘ the shoe-maker, wos the reply —The gen’leman laughed very cheerful at this here ; but he laughed on t/other side of. bis mouth ven the stranger pulled out a challenge, and erams it into his hand. ‘ [ain’t a-goin’ for to fight vith a shoe-maker, cries the gen’leman. — Then ve'll chalk you up as a coward and % PICKWICK ABROAD. a liar, says the other.—Vell, the result on it all was that the gen’leman con-sulted his friends, found out that the shoe-maker wos a captain in the National Guards, and wos ob- leeged to fight him.” “An’ wot wos the consek-vence ?” asked the elder Mr. Weller. , ye “No harm done,” replied Sam. “ Vy did the shoe-maker’s second threaten to chalk tvother feller up as a har, ven he hadn’t told no lies ?” inquired the old gentle- man. oh “ Oh! it’s the fashion in all duels, vether in France or England,” answered Sam. “ If you vant to insult a gen’leman you must al- vays begin by tellin’ him he’s a liar an’ a scoundrel ; an’ if that von’t make his blood get up, you must tell him he ain't no gen’le- man at all.” “Wery good, Samivel,” exclaimed Mr. Weller, senior; “I shan’t forget to do so the first opportunity as per-sents itself? “ And if all that won't do,” suggested Mr. Porrett, “ you must pitch into him.” “ Aye, aye,” exclaimed the old coachman, “that’s the patent settler as is better than all med-i-cines. Ven you wos a small hin fant, Samivel, if ever you wos taken ill, I alvays per-ferred givin’ you a small dose 0’ the birch-rod to all the doctor’s pills and ae tions in the vorld. I rayther think, too, that them’s the reasons o’ your havin’ turned out so vell in life, Sammy.” “Youre a wery wirtuous old man, you air,” returned the younger Mr. Weller. “ But foller me, old dot-an’-go-von, an’ you shall jist, see more coaches in von place than ever you heerd on in your mental wisions ;” and as he thus spoke, he conducted his revered father and his two friends into the great diligence yard of the Messageries Royales, And a very bustling place it was. There were about fifteen or sixteen diligences in the yard, some about to start, others having just arrived. Postillions in their large jack- boots were cracking their whips on one side, and hostlers were harnessing or unharness- ing teams of horses on the other. Porters and commissioners, bending beneath the weight of trunks and portmanteaus, were running backwards and forwards in all di- rections; and here and there groups of pas- sengers, either just set down, or just about to get into the coaches, were wiling away a few moments in a quiet chat. ' “A wery business like place, this here, said the elder Mr. Weller, bestowing his critical approval upon the scene by a most COMA (9) LNOOKS.E©