Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 248: what you’re looking at

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

18 mel were the leading bucks of the day. But he was as lonely here as in his jungle at Boggley Wollah. He scarcely knew a sin- gle soul in the metropolis: and were it not for his doctor, and the society of his blue- pill, and his liver complaint, he must have died of loneliness. He was lazy, peevish, and a bon-vivant ; the appearance of a lady frightened him beyond measure; hence it was but seldom that he joined the paternal circle in Russell-square, where there was plenty of gayety, and where the jokes of his good-natured old father frightened his amour- propre. His bulk caused Joseph much anx- ious thought and alarm; now and then he would make a desperate attempt to get rid of his superabundant fat; but his indolence and love of good living speedily got the better of these endeavors at reform, and he found himself again at his three meals a day. He never was well dressed; but he took the hugest pains to adorn his big person, and passed many hours daily in that occupation. His valet made a fortune out of his ward- robe: his toilet-table was covered with as many pomatums and essences as ever were employed by an old beauty: he had tried, in order to give himself a waist, every girth, stay, and waistband then invented. Like most fat men, he would have his clothes made too tight, and took care they should be of the most brilliant colors and youthful cut. When dressed at length, in the after- noon, he would issue forth to take a drive with nobody in the Park; and then would come back in order to dress again and go and dine with nobody at the Piazza Coffee- ‘House. He was as vain as a girl; and per- haps his extreme shyness was one of the results of his extreme vanity. If Miss Re- becca can get the better of ham, and at her first entrance into life, she is a young person of no ordinary cleverness. The first move showed considerable skill. When she called Sedley a very handsome man, she knew that Amelia would tell her mother, who would probably tell Joseph, or who, at any rate, would be pleased by the compliment paid to her son. All mothers are. If you had told Sycorax that her son Caliban was as handsome as Apollo, she would have been pleased, witch as she was. Perhaps, too, Joseph Sedley would over- hear the compliment—Rebecca spoke loud enough—and he did hear, and (thinking in his heart that he was a very fine man) the praise thrilled through every fibre of his big body, and made it tingle with pleasure. Then, however, came a recoil. ‘Is the sirl making fun of me?” he thought, and straightway he bounced toward the bell, and was ior retreating, as we have seen, when his father’s jokes and his mother’s entreaties caused him to pause and stay where he was. He conducted the young lady down to dinner in a dubious and agitated frame of VANITY FAIR. mind. ‘Does she really think I am hand- some ?” thought he, ‘ or is she only makin game of me?”’ We have talked of Joseph Sedley being as vain asa girl. Heaven help us! the girls have only to turn the tables, and say of one of their own sex, ‘ She is as vain as a man,” and they will have perfect reason. ‘I'he bearded creatures are quite as eager for praise, quite as finikin over their toilets, quite as proud of their personal ad- vantages, quite as conscious of their pow- ers of fascination, as any coquette in the world. Down stairs, then, they went, Joseph very red and blushing, Rebecca very modest, and holding her green eyes downward. She was dressed in white, with bare shoulders as white as snow—the picture of youth, unprotected innocence, and humble, virgin simplicity. ‘I must be very quiet,” thought Rebecca, ‘‘and very much interested about India.” Now we have heard how Mrs. Sedley had prepared a fine curry for her son, just as he liked it, and in the course of dinner a portion of this dish was offered to Rebecca. ‘What is it?” said she, turning an appealing look to Mr. Joseph. ‘‘ Capital,” said he. His mouth was full of it: his face quite red with the delightful exercise of gobbling. ‘‘ Mother, it’s as good as my own curries in India.” ‘¢Oh, I must try some, if it is an Indian dish,” said Miss Rebecca. “I am sure every thing must be good that comes from there.” ‘‘Give Miss Sharp some curry, my dear,” said Mr. Sedley, laughing. Rebecca had never tasted the dish before. ‘¢ Do you find it as good as every thing else from India ?” said Mr. Sedley. ‘Oh, excellent !” said Rebecca, who was suffering tortures with the cayenne pepper. “Try a chili with it, Miss Sharp,” said Joseph, really interested. ‘¢ A chili,” said Rebecca, gasping. ‘Oh yes!” She thought a chili was something cool, as its name imported, and was served with some. ‘How fresh and green they look,’ she said, and put one into her mouth. It was hotter than the curry; flesh and blood could bear it no longer. She laid down her fork. ‘ Water, for Heaven’s sake, water!” she cried. Mr. Sedley burst out laughing (he was a coarse man, from the Stock Exchange, where they love all sorts of practical jokes). ‘* They are real Indian, I assure you,” said he. ‘+Sambo, give Miss Sharp some water.’’ The paternal laugh was echoed by Joseph, who thought the joke capital. The ladies only smiled a little. They thought poor Rebecca suffered too much. She would have liked to choke old Sedley, but she swallowed her mortification as well as she had the abominable curry before it, and as Gomichboo <SuGO