Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 192: what you’re looking at

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

1 PICKWICK ABROAD. 179 the evening’s performance. Mr. Crashem maufully rejected all ideas of studying his portion of the Pantomime, and accordingly retired to a neighbouring caié, where, to use his own expressive and truly original language, ‘ he smoked cigavs and played billiards all day with his equals,” the chief society of the place being formed of the English actors, and the attendants upon the itinerant troop. It was about six o’clock in the evening, that Mr. Tupman, having ret of an excellent dinner, was summoned from the presence of is fair 7xamorata to don the sentimental garb of a Pantaloon in his own chamber, he having declined passing through that ordeal in the robing-room at the theatre. One of the subordinate actors was placed at his disposal; and Mr. Tupman forthwith underwent the ceremony of a theatrical tozetze. ‘¢ But I am not to appear on the stage in the first instance as a Pan- taloon2” said Mr. Tupman, surveying himself from top to toe in the looking-glass, and secretly admiring his deportment in the interesting garb. “Oh! no, Sir,” returned the actor; ‘* but we shall be obliged to borrow a jacket from the prompter, a pair of trunk-breeches from the stage-manager, and a few other articles from some of my friends, for you to wear previous to your transformation by the Harlequin; se that you had better walk down to the theatre as you are.” | * Very well,” said Mr. Tupman, screwing his courage up to a most desperate pitch, and whispering the name of Anastasie at the same time; “I will just throw a cloak over my shoulders, and join you at the street-door.”’ The actor took the hint, and retired from the room, just as a post- chaise and four drove hastily into the court-yard of the hotel. Mr. Tupman surveyed himself once more in the glass—breathed the name of Anastasie with holy fervour a second time—and having endorsed his mantle, which fell gracetully over his quaint attire, he emanated with due solemnity from the chamber, and slowly descended the stairs, pondering on the strange adventures which had befallen him during the last few days. Wrapt up in such important and deep contemplation, he did not perceive that he had nearly overturned a ntleman who was running hastily up the stair-case; but the shock recalled his scattered ideas, and, when he raised his head to apologize for his apparent rudeness, to his horror and astonishment he recog- nised the never-to-be-forgotten features and intelligent countenance of Mr. Pickwick. “ What! Pickwick—is that you?” exclaimed Mr. 'Tupman, almost sinking upon the stairs. | “Ah! Tupman!” cried our venerable old friend, starting with ‘mingled surprise and pleasure. ‘“ But—God bless me! what does this mean ?”—and Mr. Pickwick indicated the theatrical attire through the opening of the cloak in front. _ T—J—” stammered Mr. Tupman, unable to conceal his confusion. What is it, Sir?” demanded Mr. Pickwick, in an authoritative me that showed he was determined not to be played with. Pade ond 1m going to act at the theatre to-night,” said M. Tupman. “To act!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick; “and, pray, Sir, what were you going to act? The part of Tom-fool, I suppose—oh Sir?” “S (E(@) =) | : c Eomicboo