Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

72 Pickwick Abroad. merely a prison in fact, without being one in aspect. This is, however, but meagre consolation for its inmates, and may probably be deemed an over-nice distinction. Mr. Pickwick, having taken notes of the names of Mr. Crashem’s creditors, and the particulars of the debts, promised to write to Lon- don that very day, at the same time panting the necessity of paying the Calais tradesman in full, as it would be almost useless to expect to compromise with an utter stranger. Mr. Adolphus Crashem expressed his gratitude in due terms, and, to evince it the more effec y, gave Mr. Pickwick so violent a slap on the back, that the tears came into his eyes, and dimmed the visual organs of that philanthropic man. Mr. Tims intimated his intention of staying with his particular friend, Mr. Crashem, for the remainder of the day, “‘ just to see him snug and comfortably settled,” as he tastefully expressed himself; u which Mr. Pickwick, followed by Mr. Boozie, Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Weller, took his leave for the moment, and retumed to Meurice’s hotel, to settle his account, and remove to other quarters, CHAPTER X. MR. SAMUEL WELLER IS NOMINATED AMBASSADOR-PLENIPOTENTIARY BETWEEN MR. PICKWICK AND M. CAILLIEZ.—MR. TUPMAN AND MR. BOOZIE VISIT THE PALAIS ROYAL.—LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT.—A BREACH BETWEEN TWO GREAT MEN. ‘‘Sam,” said Mr. Pickwick, when they were once more arrived at the hotel, ‘‘ tell the landlord I wish to speak to him immediately.” ‘‘Wery good, Sir,” returned that gentleman ; “but I rayther think he’s en-gaged for the moment, Sir, as the lawyer’s clerk said to the poor client.” “ What makes you think so, Sam?” enquired Mr. Pickwick. ‘Cos I see him lookin’ at two dancin’ , Sir,” responded Mr. Weller, ‘‘ just as ve drove into the yard o’ the hot-tel, Sir ?” ‘“< In the street, Sam ?” exclaimed Mr. Winkle, starting as if a mouse had suddenly galloped up his leg. “No vere else, Sir,” replied Mr. Weller, dogmatically; ‘an’ to- morrow night—vich is Sunday, Sir—he an’ all his family and friends — seventeen on’em—is a-goin’ to the theayter, I heerd say.” ‘‘ The theatre on a Sunday?” ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, starting up from his chair in an excess of the most virtuous indignation :—“ shall protest against it, Sam !—Winkle—I shall protest against it !— No—Tupman—do not attempt to dissuade me from my purpose—I re- peat my words, I shall protest against it! The eyes of our country- men are upon us—our actions are watched—Snodgrass himself is to relate them to the world—and, as a true philanthropist, I shall pro- test against it!” Here Mr. Pickwick, fatigued by the ardour with which he had spoken, sank into his chair, and rang the bell violently. COa stor q) SS (c@