Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

“ “fe Impression upon . —w. ot _ a 4 a . y PICKWICK ABROAD. 87 _ “I wonder whether the queen of the day is pretty or not?” said Mr. Tupman. “She is virtuous, Tupman—she is good,” cried Mr. Hook Walker ; “ and that is better.” _ This beautiful sentiment, coming as it did, such lips, and prompted.by such a did not fi | to make a considerable r. Walker’s companions ; and Mr. Chitty declared that he should enve- lop the idea in poetic guise the moment he eturned home. Tn the meantime, while the carriage was 1olling gently along the road which runs par- allel with the southern bank of the Seine, and while his masters and their friends were wiling away the time with rum punch and a highly interesting conversation inside, Mr, Weller, perched upon the dickey, commenced a not less amusing dialogue with the driver outside. “T say, old feller,” began the faithful valet, “ them hosses o’ yourn is rum uns to look at ; but I des-say they’re right down devils to go.” “Dey de good Norman osses,” returned the coachman, highly indignant at the ironical tone in which he was addressed, “ Dey beat ‘dis damn old chaise; and den de proprie- all your Inglis fine-lookin’, never-workin, al- ways-eatin’ animals, parbleu !” 7 “Not unlikely,” continued Sam in th same jeering tone ; “ but incredoolity is my settin’ sin; I can’t believe nothin’ I don't see :—it’s my propensity, as the cricket said ven he chirrupped in thelerate?” | © Comment !iyou not doubt de Fren h- man’s vord ?” exclaimed the driver, darting a terrible glance at the imperturbable Sam. “Me tell you dem osses only vant de vhip to go—go—go—avay—for ever !” “Vell, that is rayther too good, as the nobleman’s lady said to the butler, ven he put too much brandy in her grog : particlar as you ain’t never | eased from volloping them hunfortunate dumb hanimals from the fust moment ve left the house. Three- miles-an-hour-’uns, I calls em,” added Mr. Weller, as he gracefully suspended his left leg over the side of the dickey. “Tn France de law not allow us to run over de people as is valking in de streets,” remonstrated the driver, showering dark looks upon his companion, and blows upon the horses. *‘Vot are you up to now vith that ’ere gammon ?” cried Mr. Weller, with a con- temptuous shake of the head... “ Vy, ain’t this the country like, and vere’s the crowds of foot-passengers you so wery conside- rately von’t run over?” " ' * - “Vary well!” returned the coachman, affecting a laugh. ‘“ But, Monsieur Vellair, you know ve must not cut up de roads, morbleu ?” he: “The roads is paved,” said Sam, “ and 0 there ain't no great chance o’ spilin’ them. Stones is stones—and veels on stones don’t make quvite so much him- ° ; o. + pression as a seal on hot vax. So try it. again, old chap, as the nobleman said to the executioner ven he didn’t cut off his head at the fust blow.” ? “Ah! vell, me see you vary ignorant, Monsieur Vellair,” said the coachman, with a long whistle; “ but you ought to know vary vell, dat me not dare break chaise.” “ That’s vot it is, eh?” said Mr. Weller, complacently.—“ Vy, von ’ud take you for a lo-gician, vith all your excuses ‘and rig- marole ewasions. But ve are all apt to aspire, now-a-days, as the pickpocket ok- served to the gallows ;—so that’s vot youre , a aimin’ at, eh. old dot-and-go-von ?” “Me only repeat, Monsieur Vellair, dat me not dare go too vite, cause me break tor put me in de prison for de damages.” ‘‘ Wery prudent you air too,” said Mr. Weller, with a patronizing nod. “Have you dem prisons in your country for gentlemen vot cannot pay dere debts ?” inquired the driver by way of changing the conversation. ““T should rayther think ve had,” an- swered Sam; ‘fan’ a blessed thing it is, too, else vot ’ud become o’ the lawyers The Frenchf®¥an was apparently con- founded by the wide field of speculation opened to him by this remark; for he did not reply to the query; and Mr. Weller ane: did not think it necessary to con- inue the conversation. In a short space of time, from the sudden cessation of the above highly edifying dis-" course, the britzka entered the village of Surrenne, and speedily deposited its inmates at the door of the principal tavern or aw- berge, where to their great delight they ncountered Mr. Scuttle and his amiable niece, Mrs. Weston. The latter was es- corted by a gentleman, who was intro- | duced to Mr. Pickwick and his compan- ions as Mr. Nassau Siffkin; and a very singular-looking. person he was. [is age might have been about sixty-two, but he endeavored to make people believe that he was fast verging upon forty only. His brown, surtout-coat was exceedingly tight e% ECOMNIE OOO si * SS) =- (6) -_~<