Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

58 Pickwick Abroad. ‘<'Wery, Sir,” answered that gentleman. ‘Von doesn’t stand no chance o’ gettin’ von’s brains dashed out on account o’ extra welocity ; and the osses gets.along at a gen-teel and tidy pace. There’s a gen’'l- man in the im-perial along vith me as comes to Paris every fortnit Or 80,” ‘Some great traveller, I presume,” said Mr. Pickwick; ‘or the correspondent of a newspaper—or a speculator in the funds—”’ “‘Qut again, Sir, as the parson said to his pipe,” returned Mr, Wel- ler. ‘‘ He’s a smuggler, Sir.” ‘¢A smuggler!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his hands. ‘‘Yes, Sir. A smuggler as deals in French vatches, and French gloves, and other small articles in the same vay.” Mr. Weller’s explanation was cut short by the arrival of the con- ducteur, and when the travellers were again ensconced in their re- spective seats the diligence proceeded towards Paris. Nothing of any consequence occurred during the remainder of the joumey. The gendarme amused his fellow-travellers with a variety of interesting anecdotes; and Mr. Adolphus Crashem put them in pos- session of many important facts relative to his own family and the community of Turks amongst whom he had sojourned. He occasionally took them to Morocco, Algiers, or Tunis, and proved himself to be one of the greatest living travellers. At about six o’clock in the evening, the diligence entered the first city in the world by the Faubourg St. Denis. At the barriers, the custom-house officers enquired if the passengers had any thing in their possessions upon which duty might be demanded; and on receiving answers in the negative, the vehicle was suffered to proceed. As it traversed the suburban streets, the shops gradually became more magnificent, the buildings more imposing, and the equ! more numerous; and when the diligence crossed the boulevards, a single lance on either side convinced the traveller that he was penetrating into the heart of a mighty, a great, and a populous city. ith amaz- ing rapidity did the diligence proceed towards the place of its destina- tion, amongst a crowd of carts, hackney-coaches, cabriolets, &c.; and in due time it turned into the spacious yard of the Messageries of Laffitte and Caillard, in the Rue St. Honoré. The b was speedily unpacked—the fares paid by the cashier whom Mr. Adolphus Crashem had so prudently elected—and a hack- ney-coach was speedily procured. M. Dumont, who had apparently conceived a great friendship for Mr. Pickwick, handed that gentleman his card ere he took leave; and Mr. Boozie, who, upon the express invitation of Mr, Crashem, had agreed to join the party and accompany them to Meurice’s hotel, was rescued from a quarrel with the con- ductor of the diligence, the said Mr. Boozie having declared that he had paid the whole of his fare, and only recollecting his mistake and pronouncing himself ‘“‘under an error’’ when the clerk at the office was about to detain his baggage. By the aid of a hackney-coach, the three Pickwickians, Mr. Crashem, Mr. Boozie, and Mr. Weller were conveyed to that queen of streets, the Rue de Rivoli, and were set down at the very gate of that prince of caravanserays, Meurice’s hotel. It is true that M. Cail- lez, the manager of that splendid establishment for the widow whose occupations are rather those of love than business, made a slight COL (O) NOOO KS (c@