Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 257: what you’re looking at

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A NOVEL WITHOUT A HERO. ‘Tt made me cry al-| ment), and other commodities. said the collector. most; ’pon my honor it did.” ‘Because you have a kind heart, Mr. Joseph: all the Sedleys have, I think.” ‘It kept me awake last night, and I was trying to hum it this morning, in bed; I was, upon my honor. Gollop, my doctor, came in at eleven (for I’m a sad invalid, you know, and see Gollop every day), and, ’gad ! there | was, singing away like—a robin.” ‘¢O you droll creature! Do let me hear you sing it.” “Me? No, you, Miss Sharp; my dear Miss Sharp, do sing it.” ‘‘ Not now, Mr. Sedley,” said Rebecca, with a sigh. ‘ My spirits are not equal to it: besides, I must finish the purse. Will you help me, Mr. Sedley?’’ And before he had time to ask how, Mr. Joseph Sedley, of the East India Company’s service, was actually seated téte-d-téle with a young lady, looking at her with a most killing expression ; his arms stretched out before her in an im- ploring attitude, and his hands bound in a web of green silk, which she was unwinding. In this romantic position Osborne and Amelia found the interesting pair, when they entered to announce that tiffin was ready. ‘lhe skein of silk was just wound round the card; but Mr. Jos had never spoken. ‘‘f am sure he will to-night, dear,” Amelia said, as she pressed Rebecca’s hand; and Sedley, too, had communed with his soul, and said to himself, ‘*’Gad, I’ll pop the ques- tion at Vauxhall.” CHAPTER V. DOBBIN OF OURS. Curr’s fight with Dobbin, and the unex- pected issue of that contest, will long be re- membered by every man who was educated at Dr. Swishtail’s famous school. ‘The lat- ter youth (who used to be called Heigh-ho Dobbin, Gee-ho Dobbin, and by many other names indicative of puerile contempt) was the quietest, the clumsiest, and, as it seem- ed, the dullest of all Dr. Swishtail’s young gentlemen. His parent was a grocer in the city: and it was bruited abroad that he was admitted into Dr. Swishtail’s academy upon what are called ‘* mutual principles’’—that is to say, the expenses of his board and schooling were defrayed by his father, in goods, not money; and he stood there— almost at the bottom of the school—in his scraggy corduroys and jacket, through the seams of which his great big bones were bursting—as the representative of so many pounds of tea, candles, sugar, mottled-soap, plums (of which a very mild proportion was supplied for the puddings of the establish- 95 A dreadful ‘day it was for young Dobbin when one of the youngsters of the school, having run into the town upon a poaching excursion for hard- bake and polonies, espied the cart of Dobbin & Rudge, Grocers and Oilmen, T’hames- street, London, at the doctor’s door, dis- charging a cargo of the wares in which the firm dealt. Young Dobbin had no peace after that. The jokes were frightful, and merciless against him. ‘* Hullo, Dobbin,” one wag would say, ‘* here’s good news in the paper. Sugars is ris’, my boy.’”’ Another would set a sum—‘ If a pound of mutton candles cost sevenpence-halfpenny, how much must Dob- bin cost?’ and a roar would follow from all the circle of young knaves, usher and all, who rightly considered that the selling of goods by retail is a shameful and infamous practice, meriting the contempt and scorn of all real gentlemen. ‘‘ Your father’s only a merchant, Osborne,” Dobbin said in private to the little boy who had brought down the storm upon him. At which the latter replied haughtily, “*‘ My fa- ther’s a gentleman, and keeps his carriage; and Mr. William Dobbin retreated to a re- mote outhouse in the play-ground, where he passed a half-holiday in the bitterest sad- ness and wo. ° Who among us is there that does not recollect similar hours of bitter, bit- ter childish grief? Who feels injustice; who shrinks before a slight ; who has a sense of wrong so acute, and so glowing a grati- tude for kindness, as a generous boy? and how many of those gentle souls do you de- srade, estrange, torture, for the sake of a little loose arithmetic, and miserable dog- Latin? William Dobbin, from an incapacity to acquire the rudiments of the above language, as they are propounded in that wonderful book the Eton Latin Grammar, was com- pelled to remain among the very last of Doc- tor Swishtail’s scholars, and was ‘* taken down” continually by little fellows with pink faces and pinafores when he marched up with the lower form, a giant among them, with his downcast, stupefied look, his dogs- eared primer, and his tight corduroys. High and low, all made fun of him. ‘They sewed up those corduroys, tight as they were. They cut his bed-strings. ‘They upset buck- ets and benches, so that he might break his shins over them, which he never failed to do. They sent him parcels, which, when open- ed, were found to contain the paternal soap and cardles. ‘There was no little fellow but had his jeer and joke at Dobbin; and he bore every thing quite patiently, and was en- tirely dumb and miserable. Cuff, on the contrary, was the great chief and dandy of the Swishtail Seminary. He smuggled wine in. He fought the town- boys. Ponies used to come for him to ride COMICO@OO (1) SS (CO)