Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 195: what you’re looking at

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

18% PICKWICK ABROAD. “Ym very glad you're come,” said Mr. Scuttle to Mr. Pickwick, ‘but where is your friend Tupman ?” ‘‘Obliged to go out of town on very pressing business, my dear Sir,” returned Mr, Pickwick, somewhat hastily. ‘* I most sincerely vegret—” “Qh! it is a mutual loss,” interrupted Mr. Seuttle; ‘‘I should. have been happy to have introduced him to my amiable niece—and — he would have lost nothing by her acquaintance.” “‘ Uncle Jerry—uncle Jerry—” exclaimed Mrs. Weston, playfully tapping Mr. Scuitle’s arm with her fan. ‘“ Well, well, my dear,” said Mr. Scuttle, laughing; “ I must leave these gentlemen to find out your good qualities by themselves, I sup- pose. But, what do you think I did the other day ?” continued Mr. Scuttle, addressing himself to Mr. Pickwick. ‘“T really don’t know,” said Mr. Pickwick; * but I hope you will tell me.” “Why,” rejomed Mr. Scuttle, ““I was smoking my meerschum down stairs in a back parlour, and my niece was seated at the table reading to me, when, in a moment of absence, I took up her fore- finger and used it instead of the tobacco-stopper.” ‘“‘ Indeed,” said Mr. Pickwick. ‘ That was an oversight not easily forgiven.”’ “Qh! I assure you, Mr. Pickwick,” exclaimed the amiable widow, ‘“‘ that that is nothing to some of uncle Jerry’s inadvertencies. About a month ago, I sent him to my shoe-maker to order up some satin slippers—and—but, I never can tell the result; and Mrs. Weston hid her face with her fan, and tittered behind it in a manner at once interesting and agreeable to a degree, ‘‘OQh! nonsense, my dear,” added Mr. Scuttle. ‘I merely sent up half-a-dozen pairs of top-boots instead of the satin shoes; that was not so very bad, was it, Mr. Pickwick 2” The gentleman thus appealed to, responded with a smile, and Mrs. Weston retreated to another part of the room to receive a stout lady and her train of seven marriageable daughters who arrived at the moment. “Charming woman—eh, Mr. Pickwick?” said Mr. Scuttle, alluding to his niece. ; *“* Mrs. Weston appears to be a very amiable lady,” was the cour- teous answer. ** You shall hear her sing presently, Mr. Pickwick,” continued the fond uncle. ‘‘ What do you think? Knowimg that you are partial to French airs, she has translated one of Berenger’s songs, and intends to favour us with it this very evening.” ‘* That 1s exceedingly kind,” observed Mr. Pickwick, glancing round the spacious and handsomely-furnished room, and perceiving that. there were about fifty or sixty ladies and gentlemen present, some of whom he recognised to be French and others English, through the mediwm of the various criterions specified by Mr. Scuttle at the am- bassador’s ball. There was a little old gentleman with ared good-humoured face, and — with three or four orders carelessly attached to the breast of his coat, _ \ vii) ay (om % ; 44 i aye Eomicbooks.com