Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

Ss his perseverance at the dinner-table, suc- 38 , PICKWICK ABROAD. nearly been lost in the first whirlwind of ardent passion. “Lovely creature!” cried Mr. Tupman, “let us see where she lives ;°—and the two gentleman hastened their pace accordingly, the amatory Mr. Tupman swinging himself from side to side in a manner that would have been perfectly unique and interesting, if it had not appeared most especially ludi- crous and laughable. “Thank God! shejs dropped her hander- chief !” exclaimed Mr. 'Tupman, as the vola- tile cambric met his anxious eyes; and almost at the same instant the young lady, perceiving her loss, turned hastily round to pick it up. But a gentle zephyr sprung up at the moment, and wafted the handkerchief on its wings aeross the Garden of the Palais Royal. Mr. Tupman did not hesitate—how could he?—-what course to pursue: he | resigned his jaunty swing for the urgent nature of the occasion, and relapsing into a more vulgar attitude, took to his heels as fast as his fat person would allow him, and scoured after the fugitive cambric with all the agility and airiness of limb usually discovered in the movements of an. old elephant. It is but fair to add that he was not a little encouraged by the smiles— | which very much verged into boisterous laughter—of the young lady, and by the peculiarly stimulating and exciting shouts of Mr. Boozie, who cried, “ Cut away, Mike! more pudding in the pot!” in a tone and with a manner exactly suited to the gentility of the ejaculation. Having overturned a nurse and two small children, who were taking an airing in the garden, and knocked down an old gentleman very busily employed in perusing a murder in the Constitutionel newspaper—having fallen and picked himself up three times in a fashion exceedingly novel and amusing, and having expelled, by over-exertion, every particle of breath he was proprietor of for the moment, Mr. Tracy Tupman, whose ardor in the cause of love was only equalled by ceeded in overtaking and arresting the fugitive handkerchief, after a pleasant and healthy run of about three hundred and fifty yards, the sameness of which had been agreeably diversified by a number of tacks and turnings caused by the eccentric move- ments of the malicious cambric in question. With the» perspiration standing on his expressive countenance, as if he had just been anointed with the oil of gladness, or ducked in a refreshing horse-pond ; his lips. wreathed into smiles, and his chest panting in a manner essentially calculated to aid him in the passionate and glowing speech he intended to make to the young lady, who anxiously waited his return, did Mh Tupman slowly retrace hissteps, bearing the evidence of a glorious triumph in his... hand. | | ny “ Madam,” said he, approaching the young lady, with downcast eyes, and laying his hand upon his heart, “deign to pardon—ah! ha—I’m so out of breath—the liberty which I ventured to take—” and here Mr. Tupman — was seized with so violent a fit of coughing that he found it quite impossible to achieve that which he had so admirablyecommenced. The young lady, however, came to his as sistance. ‘wis. * ’ “Tank you, sare,” said she, with the most amiable smile and in the most interesting broken English in the world; “me vary — much your debtor—me tank you tousand times, sare—me tell mamma of one polite Inglis gentilhomme.” ar Mr. Tupman could only bow; his feelings and his cough overpowered him. The young lady then proceeded. | “But me fraid you no do good yourself, running in dat hurry, sare; me hop you not ill, sare, on my account ;’—and the young lady’s tone became exceedingly tremulous. » “Thank you, madam—ugh! ugh! ugh!” began the gallant Mr. Tracy Tupman: “no toil—ugh! ugh! ugh!—is too much—ugh! ugh! ugh !—when the eyes of beauty wit- ness your exertions— ugh! ugh !”—and Mr, Tupman’s cough rendered the scene more sentimental still, and gave his speech an additional air of politeness, which the young lady could not but have appreciated; for instead of bowing and pursuing her walk, she lingered to renew her thanks, to assure Mr. Tupman that she should not forget to tell her mamma, the Marchioness, of the polite attention she had received, and that if her brother, the Count, had been at home, she should have taken the liberty of inviting, in his name, the “gallant Inglis gentil- homme” to their house in the Rue Neuve des Petits Champs, close by. Not a word of all this was lost upon the sensitive Tracy Tupman. His cough grew much better when he found that he was in conversation with the daughter of a Mar- chioness ; it scarcely troubled him when he understood that her brother was a Count; © and it entirely left him so soon as an invl- * @ CORNICLOOOKS. Eo)