Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 336: what you’re looking at

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

Pickwick Abroad. 275 letter so mysteriously entrusted to him ;—nor shall we detail how Mr. Walker retired to sleep in the most adjacent guard-house, as he had that morning had some dispute with his landlord relative to a certain little pecuniary matter, and was not desirous of renewing the quarrel. We shall therefore concisely state, for the behoof of our readers, that Mr. Pickwick (being desirous of devoting the morning to the perusal of the mad girl’s manuscript) declined to accompany his friends to the proposed treat; that breakfast and Mr. Walker, who had taken a hasty but wholesome and refreshing wash at a neighbouring pump, made their appearance together; and that as ten o’clock sounded in the church steeples, Mr. Chitty’s voice did the same in the ante- chamber. > ‘¢ Have you breakfasted, Chitty ?”’ enquired Mr. Pickwick, when the usual compliments of the morning were past. ‘Thank you, my dear Sir,” returned Mr. Chitty: “I don’t care if I just pick a bit:—” and suiting the action to the word, he in process of time picked the bones of a fowl so clean that they seemed as if they had been blanched. | “Take an egg, now,” said the good-natured Mr. Pickwick, delighted that his guests enjoyed themselves. ‘‘Sam—an egg for Mr, Chitty.” ‘s Here is von, and a reglar trump he is too,”’ observed Mr. Weller, as he placed the edible in question on the poet’s plate. ‘‘ Eggs ralyis eggs now, Sir, as the American said.”’ “‘On what occasion did he make that remark, Sam 2’? demanded Mr. Pickwick. “T’ll jist tax my memory,” said Mr. Weller, rubbing his head; “‘an’ if I on’y does it as vell as the Government does to the poor vich can’t afford to pay, and is starved in prison in consekvence, or dies in the vorkus, I shall do it vith rayther a good effect.” : ‘Well, Sam, proceed,” cried Mr. Pickwick, encouragingly. ‘Vell, Sir,” continued Mr. Weller, bestowing upon Mr, Hook Walker a patronizing wink, and a nod upon Mr. Chitty, “this is the horigin o’ the story. A countryman in Kentucky, Sir, goes to a grocer, and says, ‘ Vot ’ll you give for eggs to-day, old feller ?”»— “Seventeen cents,’ vos the reply; ‘ for there has been a meetin’ o’ the grocers, yesterday—leastvays in the arternoon, and they von’t wote no higher terms.’-—The countryman drives avay, and calls agin next veek, ‘Vell, Sir,’ says he to the grocer, ‘now vot d’ye bid for eggs ?’ —‘QOn’y tvelve cents,’ says the grocer, says he; ‘for there’s been another meetin’, and them’s the prices as vos unanimously chosen.’— That vouldn’t do—neither: the countryman valks his lucky” — : “What is that, Sam ?” cried Mr. Pickwick. ‘* Made his fortune, suppose ?” ‘““Oh! no, Sir—it’s on’y a fashionable phrase as is much in wogue vith members o’ parli’ment, young gen’lemen about town, and sich like chaps; and it means that he vent avay,” explained Mr. Weller. ‘* But the countryman comes a third time, vithout no eggs at all. ‘Have you any for sale to-day 2?’ says the grocer, who vos quyite out. —‘No,’ says the countryman, ‘I ha’nt: eggs raly is eggs, now.’-— *Vot does all that mean?’ says the grocer, says he; for he’d hada wery considerable order for eggs, and vos villin’ to give any price for _ 7em now.—‘ Vy, simply this,’ answers the countryman, ‘ that the hen: T CORNICLOO© CS (CO)