Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 209: what you’re looking at

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™” ’ _ » was ill for a w ‘ ed to ‘¢ PICKWICK ABROAD. . a , we “Depend upon my exactitude,” interrupt- ed Mr. Scuttle. gi af » bare “ Any little attention on your part to that oor penitent creature—” exclaimed Mr. upman.. ag, | ve Scuttle squeezed Mr. Tupman’s hand, and Mr. Tupman squeezed a tear out of his eye; and the two gentlemen having thus satisfactorily understood each other, the conversation dropped between them. — “Have you ever heard anything about ‘your friend Mr. Adolphus Crashem?’ in- quired Mr. Jopling of Mr. Pickwick. “Qh! yes,” answered that gentleman. “Some time ago I received a letter from a Mr. Tims-+I don’t know whether you were acquainted with him—” ty “Didwt we all pass an evening in the eug together ?” cried Mr, Jopling. In the, N ew Prison Y ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. “Ah! so we did—lI recollect ncw. Well—this Mr. Tims has written me a long letter, telling me all about Mr. Crash- em, ard how he exposed him in a public house where they met. It appears that Crashem, or rather Sugden—for that I be- lieve, is his real name—was going to marry Miss Muggs or Mugging, and that Mr. Tims prevented the match, What has become of - Sugden since that period, I don’t know.” , “He's as wide-awake a cove as any I ever met,” “observed Mr, Jopling, to the great ishment of Mr. Pickwick, who had not mated that Mr. Sugden was addict- | to sleep: “a man must get up very ea.ly in the morning to take him in” |” “Or rather he mustn’t go to bed at all,” exclaimed Mr. Lipman, exercising his own ngue while he cut a large slice of a cola one that stood before him. : “You don’t eat, my dear Scuttle,” said Mr. Winkle to that gentleman. “T am sorry te part with so many friends -and have lost my appetite,” replied, Mr. — Scuttle. _ affect me more or less. I remember, when “These kinds of things always I lived in London, a great fire took place in a house opposite to mine one night; and though IT had only been in bed an how, I thougit it was morning, and rang the bell for breakfast. Indeed, I never discovered my mistake, till I put my head out of the window, and received a cascade of water from one of the engines in my left eye I At this moment, M. Dumont was ush- ered into the room by Mr. Samuel Weller; tp and a very red face at the same time pro- , wh, 198 truded itself in at the doorway. A smile beamed upon that red countenance,’ and one of its eyes indulged in several elabo- rate and palpa dle winks, as it surveyed the numerous individuals seated round the table. “ Walk in, Mr. Weller,” said Mr. Pick- wick, who had recognized the countenance, the smile, and the winking eye : “ this is the last time we shall all of us meet together in this room.” ? “Wehicle’s at the door, sir,” said Sam, _who now stopped forward to announce the fact : “ an’ a wery nice shay it is— 9%n’y four hosses, tho’ ve pays for seven.” “And here are your passports,” observed M. Dumont. “I promised to save you the trouble of getting them signed yourselves, and that has made me late.” With these words the Gendarme Jaid the documents upon the table. “We must now think of bidding adieu to our friends,” said Mr. Pickwick, *‘ and of shortening the hour of departure as much as possible.» One of the most important periods of my life has been passed in Pa- ris; and though I have occasionally met with disagreeable adventures, still the re- | miniscences of them are almost entirely effaced from my mind by the many—many happy hours that [have spent in this great city: I haye been particular in keeping notes and minutes of all that has happened to me since the day I left England. The numerous songs, tales, and anecdotes that I have heard or read, are carefully entered in my memorandum-book ; and on my re- | turn to England I shall place the whole in the hands of some gentleman connected with vhe press, and who at the same time | is conversant with France, and acquainted with the characteristics of her inhabitants, for the purpose of laying them before the public in a proper form.” “The talented editor of your travels and adventures in England would be the most fitting person for such a work,” observed Mr. Chitty. “He is the most, popular writer of the day, and trom the manner in. which he executed the important task you — formerly entrusted to his care and abilities, certainly deserves your confidence in this instance.” “No—” returned Mr. Pickwick; “I am sorry to. say that he declines the labor, and it therefore remains for me to find one who will be bold enough to undertake it, with the fear of being called an imitator and a plagiarist before his : ‘ C@OMIC OOO SS (©)