Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 50: what you’re looking at

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42 Pickwick descended to the table dhote room, where his presence was awaited by Mr. Boozie and Mr. Winkle. But Mr. Tup- man was not there!” REE ee CHAPTER IX; . A few comments on the breach mentioned in:the last chapter.—The table d’hote at Meurice’s hotel in Paris.—Mr. Pickwick, accompanied by Mr. Win- ° kle and Mr. Boozie, visits Mr. Adolphus Crashem is his new quarters.—Mr. Lipman and Mr. Jop- ing. Mr. Pickwick did not deem it at all neces- sary to make Mr. Winkle acquainted with the breach that had taken place between himself and Mr. Tupman—that memorable breach which had for its only precedent, in extent of gravity and importance to the world in general, the well-known quarrel between Fox and Burke on the subject of ‘ne French Revolution. A commentator “* with truth observe, that the coinci- most singular—four of the great- ‘ ever lived, being thus divided "-on account of French af-. *hich there was a trifling yn. The most glorious vas eventually sullied ds of tyrants and ‘iness of a beauti- sient, the one to and the other As the pen these cha- *h records ul never —a tear escapes half in- ility of ss ind a, .d in gen- \ digression. uninterrupt- |. Aphical narra- ith us to-day ?” _oring the soupe a ig to Mr. Pickwick. Oo appointment,” re- an with a suppressed | e get through a lot of business continued Mr. Winkle, after a use. we _ “Strange fate, sir, is iy PICKWICK ABROAD. Mr. Pickwick replied in the affirmative, and made some comments on the vastness of the commercial transactions they had’ opened with two great houses in Paris. | But what shall we do with ourselves “ What ?” inquired Mr. Pickwick. “That it would be but charitable,” an- swered Mr. Boozie, “if we were to call _ | this evening?” interrupied Mr. Boozie, — when he had swallowed a very large glass _ of wine, and poured out another. “J think « —no, I don’t, though—I only imagine—” ag ® ae upon that poor devil Crashem. Sims—no, » it ain’t—what a confounded fib I was tell-* ing |—Tims, I mean, said there would bea | P devil of a spree going on there this even- — e “ Private’ theatricals, I suppose ?” ob- served Mr. Pickwick. ‘Oh! no,” explained Mr. Boozie, “I told an untruth, if I said that; he only meant — drinking, smoking, singing, and all that sort of thing!” | | “ High-spirited fellows !” cried Mr. Pick- — wick, his philanthropic countenance beam- ing with delight. “For my part, I have no objection to join them for an hour or so. What do you say, Winkle?” . * With pleasure,” returned that gentle- man ; “and as they lock up early, it would be as well to go soon.” ee “Immediately,” said Mr. Pickwick. — Mr. Weller was desired? to attend his master; and a hackney-coach, or fiacre, speedily conveyed the party to the Bee sant and commodious tenement in the heir-apparent to the fortunes and ter- ritories appended to the great name of Crashem, temporarily resided. aa that of a man of ¥ the vorld,” observed Mr. Weller, as he fol- lowed Mr. Pickwick, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. — Boozie across the outer court, in front of the “ How’s that, Sam?” inquired Mr. Pick- wick. “A pallis von day, and'a prison the next, sir,” returned Mr. Weller; “a bust o’ laugh- ter escapes the buzzim von minit, and a sigh of voe the next, sir,” added the philo- sophizing domestic. — vty | a ‘Too true,” assented Mr. Pickwick, in a mournful voice. “And yet,” continued Mr. Weller, in a more cheerful tone, ‘‘ that vich the English calls sympathy, is nothing more than vot. the Dutch calls gammon.” Mr. Pickwick’s philanthropy could’ not, t % Xe. é‘ hs . » boc (C(O) <S {s (0)