Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

10 Pickwick Abroad. length withdrew in disgust, accompanied by a broken-down parson who boasted of being the illegitimate son of some lord, and two or three other seedy-looking representatives of the great English nation to a low tavern, where his egotism made him an important person for the remainder of the day. | “Well, after all,” said Mr. Winkle, as the travellers seated them- selves opposite a cheerful fire in the coffee-room, “there is not so much difference between an English and a French town.” * Bricks is bricks, Sir, all the vorld over,” observed Mr. Weller, relapsing a moment from his occupation of hanging up great-coats, hats, &c., on the pegs attached to the walls. “You will find the manners and customs somewhat different, Winkle,” said Mr. Pickwick, ‘‘ before you have been here long.” *¢ *Tis a lost country, Sir,” said Mr. Weller, witha doleful shake of the head. . | ‘“‘ A lost country, Sam !”’ cried Mr. Pickwick, in astonishment. ‘Yes, Sir—a lost country—a nation vithout principle, Sir,” replied Mr. Weller, earnestly: “‘since a period vich they calls the evolution, Sir, there has n’t been no manners in France ; there ’s no sich thing as a gen’leman known—a servant 1s as good as his mas’er, Sir,—for they air all equal, as the nobleman said, ven he give the chimbly-sveep a cheer (chair), and told him to make his-self at home.” “Tam afraid, Sam,’ suggested Mr. Pickwick, mildly, “that your account is rather exaggerated.” ‘Quite impossible to be incorrect, Sir,” returned Sam, “ ven it vos the skipper o’ that ’ere wessel in vich ve come, as took the trouble o’ hedificating me on thathead. ‘The French is greatly to be pitied, Sir, says I, ‘if there isn’t no gen’ lemen among ’em’.—‘They don’t know the walley o’ liberty,’ says the captain, mournfully—‘ No more they does, Sir,’ says I, ‘since they’ ve a-made their-selves all equal.’— ‘ Wery “common to see a private sugger arm-in-arm vith a officer,’ says the captain, ‘and that isn’t discipline. But it’s no vonder,’ continues he more sorrowfly than afore, ‘as they’ve a-bolished flogging in the army.’—He vould a-gone on vith his argiments, but his okkipation obleeged him to go into a hole beneath the biler for a moment, and Mr. Vinkle vanted a glass o’ brandy-an’-vater, vich unforeseen acci- — dents caused us to separate, as the scientific gen’leman said ven he fell from the parishoot.” ‘“‘ Well, we shall see,” observed Mr. Pickwick, doubtfully, when his domestic had made an end of speaking; and at that moment the waiter entered to lay the cloth for luncheon. _. ‘What wine will you take, Sir?’ inquired the waiter, addressing Mr. Pickwick. ‘Madeira, by all means,” cried Mr. Tupman, who had hitherto re- mained silent, his imagination wandering to the pretty chamber- — maid. ‘‘T cannot recommend the Madeira, Sir,” said the waiter, for the very simple reason that there was none in the cellar. : ‘Well, let us have some Sherry, then,” returned Mr. Tupman. “‘ Nor the Sherry, Sir,” responded the waiter. ‘“‘Tn that case we must put up with Port,’ observed Mr. Pickwick. “You will find the Port very thick, Sir, ’m afraid,” remonstrated the waiter. CORNICLIOO KS (E(0)