Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 338: what you’re looking at

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

Pickwick Abroad. 277 “T really can’t say,’ said Mr. Tupman. sie ‘Why,’ continued Mr. Walker, ‘‘they let all their passengers go for nothing, and thus the new company was nearly ruined. The Chamber of Deputies, however, interfered—an act was passed to regu- late the various prices—and the great company ended by advancing the new one money to go on with. Such was their system!” ‘¢ How very singular,” said Mr. ‘Tupman. : While the latter part of this colloquy was taking place, Mr. Chitty had entered into conversation with a coachman whom he met in the yard, and whose services were immediately purchased with the promise of an ample remuneration. Thus reinforced, and followed by the postilion who walked up the Rue Montmartre, cracking his whip in every direction, the little party moved on, and quickly arrived at Mr. Goble’s residence, which consisted of a couple of rooms on the top story of a house cheerfully situate in a small alley leading out of the above-named street. One of these rooms had been fitted up for the occasion. The floor was nicely watered to lay the dust—three or four benches were ar- ranged in judicious order at one end of the room—and a low stage had been erected at the other. A large screen stood upon this stage; and on the arrival of Mr. Chitty and his friends, Mr. Goble, who met them at the door, requested the postilion to step behind the said screen, and wait till his services might become necessary. : About twelve or fourteen people graced the seats above described. There was a fat old mamma with her three marriageable daughters— two giggling young ladies of five-and-forty each—three or four clerks from the adjacent newspaper offices—and five or six boys and girls of miscellaneous ages and appearances. Mr. Goble was ardently de- lighted with this display: he declared that it was the best audience he had ever yet had; and swore, that with such support he could make any thing of himself. Mr. Winkle was highly delighted at this piece of information; especially as he thought that Mr. Goble’s views were exceedingly devoid of that bane of great men—ambition. Mr. Goble himself now retired behind the screen, and Mr. Chitty and his companions occupied the front bench in the littlerow. A quarter of an hour was suffered to elapse—no one knew why: Mr. Goble, however, thought that the delay would introduce him, when he did appear, with the more effect. At the expiration of the fifteen mi- nutes, three distinct blows, behind the screen, indicated in French theatrical language, instead of a bell, the commencement of the busi- ness of the morning; and, at the same time, three distinct clouds of dust arose from the stage, which the servant had omitted to sprinkle with water, and took refuge in the eyes of the company present. So soon as the whirlwind had disappeared, Mr. Goble issued from behind the screen, advanced to the front of the stage, bowed profoundly to his audience, and then seated himself at a desk conveniently placed in the middle of the platform. » Mr. Goble, professor of craniology and phrenology, was a short, thin, Spare man, with long lanky black hair, small deep-set eyes, a very wide mouth, and an exceedingly shabby suit of clothes. His voice might have been harmonious, had it not resembled the sound of a bell that was cracked; and his delivery might have been applauded, if he EORANICLOO© ‘S (C(O)