Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 264: what you’re looking at

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

o2 the girl’s delight and wonder, he watched her artless happiness with a sort of fatherly pleasure. Perhaps he felt that he would have liked to have something on his own arm besides a shawl (the people laughed at seeing the gawky young officer carrying this female burthen); but William Dobbin was very little addicted to selfish calculation at all; and so long as his friend was enjoying himself, how should he be discontented ! And the truth is, that of all the delights of the gardens; of the hundred thousand ezira Jamps, which were always lighted; the fid- dlers, in cocked hats, who played ravishing melodies under the gilded cockle-shell in the midst of the gardens; the singers, both of comic and sentimental ballads, who charmed the ears there; the country dances, formed by bouncing cockneys and cockneyesses, and executed amid jumping, thumping, and laughter; the signal which announced that Madame Saqui was about to mount skyward on a slack-rope ascending to the stars; the hermit that always sat in the illuminated hermitage; the dark walks, so favorable to the interviews of young lovers; the pots of stout handed about by the people in the shabby old liveries; and the twinkling boxes, in which the happy feasters made-believe to eat slices of almost invisible ham; of all these things, and of the gentle Simpson, that kind smiling idiot, who, I dare say, presided even then over the place—Captain William Dob- bin did not take the.slightest notice. He carried about Amelia’s white cash- mere shawl, and having attended under the gilt cockle-shell, while Mrs. Salmon per- formed the Battle of Borodino (a savage cantata against the Corsican upstart, aie had lately met with his Russian reverses)— Mr. Dobbin tried to hum it as he walked away, and found he was humming—the tune which Amelia Sedley sang on the stairs, as she came down to dinner. He burst out laughing at himself; for the truth is, he could sing no better than an owl. It is to be understood, as a matter of course, that our young people, being in par- ties of two and two, made the most solemn promises to keep together during the even- ing, and separated in ten minutes afterward. Parties at Vauxhall always did separate, but ’twas only to meet again at. supper-time, when they could talk of their mutual adven- tures in the interval. What were the adventures of Mr. Os- borne and Miss Amelia? ‘That is a secret. But be sure of this—they were perfectly happy, and correct in their behavior; and as they had been in the habit of being to- gether any time these fifteen years, their téte-d-téte offered no particular novelty. But when Miss Rebecca Sharp and her stout companion lost themselves ina solitary & VANITY FAIR. , walk, in which there were not above five score more of couples similarly straying, they both felt that the situation was extremely tender and critical, and now or never was the moment, Miss Sharp thought, to pro- voke that declaration which was trembling on the timid lips of Mr. Sedley. They had previously been to the panorama of Moscow, where a rude fellow, treading on Miss Sharp’s foot, caused her sto fall back with a little shriek into the arms of Mr. Sedley, and this little incident increased the tender- ness and confidence of that gentleman to such a degrée, that he told her severak of. his favorite Indian stories over again for, at least, the sixth time. OE ‘‘ How I should like to see Rebecca. ‘¢ Should you?” said Joseph, with a most killing tenderness; and was no doubt about to follow up this artful interrogatory by a question still more tender (for he puffed and panted a great deal, and Rebecca’s hand, which was placed near his heart, could count the feverish pulsations of that organ), when, oh, provoking! the bell rang for the fire- works, and a great scuffling and running taking place, these interesting lovers were obliged to follow in the stream of the people, Captain Dobbin had some thoughts. of joining the party at supper; as, in truth, he found the Vauxhall amusement not particu- larly lively—but he paraded twice before. the box where the now united couples were met, and nobody took any notice of him. Covers were laid for four. The mated pairs were prattling away quite happily, and Dobbin knew he was as clean forgotten as if he had never existed in this world. ‘¢T should only*be de trop,” said the cap- tain, looking at them rather wistfully. ‘I'd best go and talk to the hermit’—and so he strolled off out of the hum of men, and noise, and clatter of the banquet, into the dark walk, at the end of which lived that well-known pasteboard solitary. It wasn’t very good tun India!” said | for Dobbin—and, indeed, to be alone at Vaux- hall, I have found, from my own experience, to be one of the most dismal sports ever en- tered into by a bachelor. The two couples were perfectly happy then in their box: where the most delight- ful and intimate conversation took place. Jos was in his glory; ordering about the waiters with great majesty. He made the salad; and uncorked the champagne; and carved the chickens; and ate and drank the greater part of the refreshments on the ta- bles. Finally, he insisted upon having a bowl of rack punch; every body had rack punch at Vauxhall. ‘* Waiter, rack punch.” That bow] of rack punch was the cause of all this history. And why not a bowl of rack punch as well*as any other cause ? Was not a bowl of prussic acid the cause of fair Rosamond’s retiring from the world ? CONNIE DOO KS, COnn * i;