Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

Pickwick Abroad. 19 ‘* And devilish well connected, too,” observed Mr. Winkle. ‘‘ Brilliant prospects he appears to have,” continued Mr. Pickwick. ‘“‘T should like to be only half as well off,” returned Mr. Winkle, suppressing a sigh of envy. ‘** Dear me, how loud they are talking in the passage,” cried Mr. Pickwick ; *‘ I can almost hear what they say !” ‘‘ He is most likely blowing the landlord up for something,” sug- Mr. Winkle. ‘“‘ How foolish of hotel-keepers not to know their own interests, and try to keep a good customer!” said Mr. Pickwick. “Well, then—for to-day only—and recollect it is the last!” ex- claimed a loud voice in the passage, which was not the voice of Mr. Adolphus Crashem; upon which the door again opened, and that yeman entered the room, having eoncluded his ¢éte-d-téte with the diord. ‘“‘Shocking bad they build their wainscots in France,” said Mr. Crashem, when he had onee more settled himself before the fire. ‘“‘ Do they indeed ?” inquired Mr. Pickwick, glancing at the wall. ‘‘ Yes ;—why, couldn’t you hear what passed between us in the passaze ?”? demanded the young gentleman, somewhat anxiously. “Oh! no,” replied Mr. Winkle; ‘not in the least.” ‘‘ Well, then, they ain’t so very bad,” remarked Mr. Adolphus Crashem, brightening up, and wondering in his own mind how the landlord’s voice did not penetrate through the wainscot which was a couple of inches thick. ‘Talking of wainscots,” continued Mr. Crashem, ‘‘ puts me in mind of a singular story conneeted with a wainscot. hen I was attaché to the English ambassador at Con- stantinople, I lodged and boarded with a Turkish family, and fell desperately in love with the old Turk’s fifteenth daughter, Amima. One day | was in my private study, writing some letters to the minis- ters of foreign affairs of France and Spam—and very tedious work it was, by the bye—when I heard a female voice talking in the next room. listened—I am horribly jealous, gentlemen—and I soon discovered that my adored Amima was hearkening to the love-tales of a favoured rival. Dash me, if I knew what to do! I seized a pistol, and pointing it against the wainscot that divided my room from the one where this pleasant scene was being enacted—guided enly by the sound of my rival’s voice—I fired! A heavy thing tumbled to the ground, anda loud shriek rent the air. I rushed into the room, and found my rival a corpse on the floor!” “Gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick; “howhorrible! But what became of the young lady ?” ‘* Her father turned her out of doors, and she became a dancing- irl,”? replied Mr. Adolphus Crashem. ‘She afterwards renounced r creed, and married a Jew.” ‘‘ Singular episode in Turkish life,” remarked Mr. Winkle. ‘ And highly illustrative of their manners, too,” exclaimed Mr. Crashem., So I should imagine,” observed Mr. Pickwick, whose kindness of disposition led him to concur in that which any less illustrious man would have instantly rejected as a palpable falsehood. “The Turks are a very singular people——-— very singular.’ 2 COL q) DGe (c@