Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 340: what you’re looking at

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

Pickwick Abroad. 279 _ of my interpreter, for the last three years upon the Paris and Lille road—he has worked a diligence, gentlemen and ladies, I say during three years—three years, ladies and gentlemen—and his head indicates the travelling propensity as indisputably as did the skulls of Captain Cook and the carrier-pigeon.”’ | Fresh applause welcomed this ingenious line of argument, and ex- traordinary fact; and the postilion having been restored to his retreat behind the screen, and Mr, Chitty to his bench, the learned professor wound up his discourse in the following terms :— *‘ Ladies and gentlemen, I was once sitting with a friend over a bottle of port-wine and a pound of filberts. Both were very old— the port was crusty—and the nuts were musty. Presently some maggots began running across the table. Ofcourse they came from the nuts. There was an exemplification of the spirit of lecomotive- ness—for, may I die if every maggot had not a large bump upon his head in the proper place. I made this observation to my friend— I had known him about two months—and he said, ‘My dear Goble,’ —we were upon very intimate terms,— you pretend to be very cunning m this particular branch; now—tell me—have I a travelling pro- pensity, or have I not?’ I examined his head, and found that he had. —‘ Well,’ said he, ‘you will swear, then, that I am inclined to loco- - motiveness ?’—‘ I will,’ said I.—‘ And you will make a bet?’ said he. —‘ With pleasure,’ said I, always ready to stick up for the science.— * Well,’ said he, ‘ I’ll bet you ten pounds that I have never done any thing to justify the opinion that my cranium offers to view or touch a bump of locomotiveness’—‘ I’ll take you,’ said I; ‘for say what you will, you have the bump, and you must obey it..—‘Done!’ cried my friend.—‘ Done!’ said I; and the bet was made. We shook hands upon it, and my friend was about to give me the history of his life to prove that he had never done any thing to bring him within the range prescribed, when the landlord, stepping in at the time, said, ‘ Oh! my fine fellow—this is better than Botany-bay cheer, ain’t it ??—* Whats that ? cried I.—‘ Oh!’ exclaimed the landlord, who was half-seas- over, ‘this chap has had seven year on it at Botany there.’—‘ Indeed,’ roared I in a rapture; ‘well, then—haven’t I won my bet?’— The matter was conceded to me, ladies and gentlemen; and I adduce the circumstance as a fact strongly calculated to prove that craniology is ascience, and that we must all obey the dictates of our own heads.”’ “* How very ingenious,” said Mr. Walker to Mr. Tupman. “ This reasoning is certainly very good,” observed the gentleman thus addressed. ‘And conclusive,’ observed Mr. Chitty. ‘‘I knew that Goble would acquit himself well; acutus est —he is avery sharp fellow.” “I deny that there gen’leman’s postulatum,” exclaimed a fat thick- set Englishman, with a blue coat and brass buttons, corduroy small- clothes, and top-boots. ‘‘I repeats what sf said—I deny that there postulatum.” The audience was aghast at the interruption—the professor was speechless with rage—and the fat Englishman placed his hands upon his thighs, bent gracefully forward, rounded his arms, and stared at Mr. Goble with a look that perfectly petrified him. | ~ This is very improper conduct, a-hem,” began the craniologist, endeavouring to recover his voice by degrees. CORnNICLOOOKS (C(O)