Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

Pickwick Abroad. 31 “ And, pray, my fine feller,” interrupted Sam, “ what become of you?” ‘““We ran on shore between Deal and Dover, and as I took very care to keep myself invisible, it was supposed that Downey must ave been washed off the deck when the ship broke away from her moorings. But that is not all. After a few repairs, the vessel was towed back again to its old anchorage, and from that day till yester- day there have always been two men on board, so that one should be able to perform the necessary duties in case the other died. Thus, by my folly, did I work myself into a nice dilemma; for two men together are braver than one alone—and they did not care a fig for all the ghosts in the world. They moreover took precious good care to lock u their provender; and when I saw how badly I was likely to fare, removed my quarters for a time to Eddistone Light-house.”’ “ An’ a wery good change it must ha’ been,” observed Mr. Weller, while the old man nodded approvingly. ‘But how come you here in your ancient nest agin, as the sparrow said to the svallow under the tilings ?”’ «« Vesterday morning I took it mto my head to pay a visit to my old habitation,” answered the ghost, “‘ which I had not seen for so many— many years; and on my arrival about dinner-time, I found the vessel empty !”’ Empty !’” exclaimed Mr. Weller in astonishment. ““Yes—empty !”’ returned the old man. ‘‘ God only knows what has become of the two sailors who had charge of her—but I shrewdly suspect they must have deserted, as I looked in vain for the jolly-boat.” “'Wery like,” said Sam, “ and now you’re all right vonce more in your old quarters, my svell cove, ain’t you ?” “Exactly,” responded Mr. Dibble, with a sly laugh; and as I am also fond of a little company, I sent for you. My very particular friends, the ghosts of a harlequin and a gendarme—the former of whom killed himself by falling from a tight-rope, and the latter had his throat cut from ear to ear a short time ago—volunteered their services to bring you hither—and here you are !’”—and the old man laughed triumphantly. “You ghoastesses ain’t wery partickler in your modes o’ behaviour, von ‘ould think,” remarked Mr. Weller, debating in his own mind whether he should pitch into Mr. Dibble’s shade or not. ‘‘ Being an ill-used race,” said the ghost, when his mirth was some- what subsided, “‘ we prey occasionally upon mankind ourselves. There was a time when a ghost was the great personage quoted on every oc- casion; his name was a bugbear in the nursery, and a matter of specu- lation in the parlour. Whole books were written to prove his ex- istence—and religion lent her aid to consecrate the truth. But now— our power is almost gone: grown-up people deny our supremacy, and children shake off the yoke which fear of us imposes, at a tender age. A woman-servant 1s only laughed at, if she say she has seen a ghost; and the housekeeper is sent to the Penitentiary if she pre- tend that certain articles have been abstracted through our especial agency. ‘Thus, you see, Mr. Weller, our power is rapidly declining ; and between ourselves—” here the old man drew his chair closer to Sam, and lowered his voice to a whisper—‘‘ and between ourselves, COL (©) DGe (c@