Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

56 Pickwick Abroad. I suppose. Asked me if I could lend him a guid. Assured him I did not carry tobacco about with me. Informed me that he had had a great many yellow-boys at his command once. A slave-owner, I resume. Lent hima sovereign: and Sam afterwards assured me that it was nothing but a go. By this he meant ¢rick. Full of playful synonymes, that Sam! Stopped and dined at Canterbury. Had time to visit the cathedral, so we all hastened thither, as the coach will not stop longer than a cer- tain time. Missed our way. Stepped up to a beggar, who was hold- ing a dog by a string, at the corner of a street, and offered him six- ence if he would show us the way. Beggar replied that he couldn’t, ut that his dog would. Looked at him in astonishment, and disco- vered that he was blind. Gave him some half-pence, declined to de- prive him of so clever a guide, and found another. Mem.—This guide was a human being. Canterbury cathedral is a very handsome building. Saw the blood of Thomas-a-Becket upon the very stone where his assassins murdered im. Sam informed us that he had been “ put up to snuff”—as he facetiously expressed himself—about this matter, and assured me that the sexton made a point of keeping the said stone well coloured with bull’s blood, so often as circumstances required. Tupman looked doubtful,—and Winkle expressed his unalterable disbelief of Sam’s statement. Proceeded on our journey to Dover. Tupman remarked that the Kentish gus are particularly fine. I do not know that he is altogether wrong. yelling is in a very unsettled state on this road. e op- position coaches should be suppressed by government. The guard of our coach was perpetually telling the driver “to hit the horses on the raw, as they hadn’t any friends!” Such cruelty to unfriended animals is perfectly atrocious. lept at Dover, and was grievously bitten by bugs. November 12th, 1834.—Embarked on board a steam-boat for the first time in our lives, Became acquainted with a dark gentleman called ‘‘ a stoker,” who explained to usthe principles and technicalities of the steam-engine. Cannot say that I perfectly understood the mat- ter; but Winkle appeared to be fully at home with it, which was very astonishing when we consider his former ignorance of such engines. However, in case “the stoker’s” elucidation may interest posterity, subjoin it, word for word, as I took it down in my note-book at the time.—*‘ This ’ere furnance, gen’lmen, heats that ’ere water, and that ’ere water is in this ’ere biler; and that there pistern-rod is moved up and down by the steam from this ’ere biler; and them ’ere pisterns acts upon them rods, which turns the axles of the paddles, and the paddles their-selves in consequence.” ‘Then it ¢s possible for a boiler to burst ?” observed Mr. Tupman, with a very visible shudder. ** Possible !” exclaimed the man, as if he were deeply insulted by the bare doubt implied in my friend’s remark. ‘I rather think it is possible—and what’s more too, it very often does burst.” Feel myself bound to remark that Winkle manifests on every occa- sion a great regard for our several safeties. On hearing “ the stoker’s” reply to Tupman’s question, he roared out ‘ murder !” and, ran franti- COL q) NOOO KS (c@