Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

4 PICKWICK ABRBUAL. still waters of the harbour “ jist like a hanimal of real Iife,"’ as aut English gentleman, quoting Byron, and taking a short black pipe from his mouth, remarked to a friend on the occasion. The packet at length came along-side the quay, and every neck was elongated, and every eye was dilated, and every elbow was exactly fitted into the vacuum between the mbs of a neighbour, in the general excite- ment caused by the desire to ascertain if Mr. Pickwick were really on board the vessel. Unconscious of the honours awaiting him—calm and reflective, as was his wont--clad in the usual way—with the well-known black iters—the low hat—the spectacles—and the eye-glass—and near the helm—stood the great man whom hundreds had assembled to gaze upon. On his right was the sleek and well-conditioned Tracy Tup- man, whose eye still loved to wander over the handsome features of the fair sex, and whose gold chain had almost entirely disappeared from the sphere of his visual rays, beneath the extensive silk waist- coat. On Mr. Pickwick’s left hand was the young friend who had partaken of all that illustrious man’s former dangers, difficulties, and perils, and who had equally shared in the renown that had attended success. But time and matrimony had done much for Nathaniel Winkle. The sporting dress was discarded, and a black coat, some- what loose at the waist, with black trowsers and a striped silk stock, re- placed the conspicuous habiliments he once had delighted in. Behind this interesting group was stationed Mr. Samuel Weller, with an open great-coat and several capes over a new suit of livery, and the same cunning smile, and air of indifference, that were the characteriuties of Tony Weller's son. No sooner did the vessel touch the quay: than the captain, who was mounted on one of the paddle-boxes, cried out something to the man at the helm—and a sailor on board cried out something to a sailor on shore—and ropes were thrown in all directions—and the captain in- sisted upon turning the vessel before any one could be permitted to land—and the valve opened with a terrific noise—and a tremendous shout arose amongst the crowd—and the name of “ Pickwick” was echoed far and wide, to the astonishment of a couple of gendarmes and two or three custom-house officers, who were so barbarously ig- norant of civilized matters as to be entirely unacquainted with the nomenclature of one whose scientific researches and philanthropic feelings had materially benefitted mankind. “Dear me,” said Mr. Pickwick, in a species of trepidation; ‘“ one would really have thought they mentioned my name !” “ No—did they, though ?” cried Mr. Winkle, turning very pale. “T think so,” returned Mr. Pickwick, casting an anxious glance at the motley crowd. ‘** And so they did, Sir,” said Sam Weller, touching his hat; “ and a preshus queer set they appears to be, if von may judge by fust appearances, as the vite man said to his-self ven he got among the selvidges vich made a fire to eat him. That ’ere gen‘leman in the epatterdashes and lily benjamin, vith a ’ansome castor as ain’t got no crown, is a crying his-self hoarse.” ‘This is very singular— very singular, indeed!’ remarked Mr ‘Pickwick. a S 5} a JOO SS (c@)