Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

18 Pickwick Abroad. hang me if I ain’t; but this honour was so unexpected—so unlooked for—taking one so infernally by surprise—" ‘No apology, my dear Sir,” said Mr. Pickwick with a benignant smile, ‘And now that you are acquainted with my name—allow me to introduce you to my friend and companion, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle!”’ ‘‘ Winkle!” exclaimed the young gentleman, turning suddenly to that individual, who winced a little, and sate uneasily on his chair, afraid of undergoing a similar series of embracings and huggings to the one already experienced by his great leader; ‘‘ most happy to know you also, Mr. Winkle. My name is Crashem, gentlemen—Adolphus Crashem— son of the general of that name.” ‘‘Ah! indeed,” said Mr. Pickwick, with a half-bow and placid smile. ‘The name must be familiar to yow,’’ observed Mr. Adolphus Crashem, with peculiar emphasis on the pronoun. “Not very familiar,” rejomed Mr. Pickwick, with an appeeling glance at Mr. Winkle. Indeed it would have been very singular if it were; for in the several editions of the army list, Mr. Murray has un- accountably forgotten to mention General Crashem’s name. “Not on very good terms with my father, though—” said the young gentleman. ‘The old boy has a will of his own, Mr. Pick- wick—like all very old men—he is past ninety—and I am his only son. Forty thousand pounds a-year sure—all entailed, and no mis- take,”’ ‘‘ That is very lucky,” observed Mr. Pickwick, alluding to the ab- sence of any irre ity in the nature of the entail. ‘¢ No—no—all right in that quarter, thank God,” continued Mr. Adolphus Crashem—“ right as the mail, my boy. But this old father of mine must needs interfere in my matrimonial intentions—and a very lovely girl—daughter of an illustrious baronet—pines after me at this moment. Don’t dare offend the old boy—else quarterly supplies d—d soon cut off, you know;”—and Mr. Crashem smiled in a peculiarly cunning manner. “Ah! that’s it, is it?” said Mr. Winkle, with an equally cunning smile and chuckle, probably occasioned by certain reminiscences, the nature of which the reader 1s already acquainted with. “Sir William Grinwell, of Grinwell Park, Somersetshire, is the father of my intended,” said Mr. Crashem; “and a devilish good fellow he is too. Was arrested six months ago for‘a cool fifty thou- sand—lost at play—on a bill, mind—and he stumped down in a jiffey to prevent my father from knowing it. Will give his daughter four times as much on her wedding-day—without settlement, too— that’s the best of it, ha! ha! ha!” At this moment the waiter entered the room, and informed Mr. Adolphus Crashem that the landlord of the hotel would be glad to say two words to him in the passage. Mr. Adolphus Crashem made a wry face at this communication, which private reasons, however, did not allow him to neglect. He accordingly went to meet the landlord in the passage, as he was desired. ‘“Nice young man, that,” said Mr. Pickwick, when he and Mr. Winkle were again alone. COL q) SOKO |KS,EO