Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 323: what you’re looking at

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

330. PICKWICK ABROAD. “Twas not exactly alluding to that very interesting animal—inter- esting on account of her misfortunes,” said Mr. Pickwick; “but to — your wonderful proficiency in the—the—art—the art oi—” ‘‘ Rearing the best pork in all Cheshire, you mean,” observed Mr. Kallaway. Be sie “My dear Sir, you mistake me once more,” said Mr. Pickwick mildly. ‘allude to your great proficiency in the art of —of—making love—that is—paying your addresses—you know—”’ ‘¢Oh! I understand!’ exclaimed the ex-farmer and grazier: “I was a very devil at that kind of thing.” | “ Precisely what I thought,” said the overjoyed Mr, Pickwick. “‘ And now, then—in one word, let me tell you that I am rather attached to Mrs. Weston—that I wish to ask Mr. Scuttle’s consent to our unlon— and that I want a third person to undertake this very disagreeable task for me.” “Ah! ha!” cried Mr. Kallaway, inserting his knuckles into Mr. Pickwick’s ribs with playful vehemence: ‘‘now the murder’s out, is it? Well—as for the go-between, I’m your man.” Mr. Pickwick squeezed his companion’s hand, pointed to the place where Mr. Scuttle was busily employed in holding forth to Messzeurs Nassau Siffkin, Septimus Chitty, and Hook Walker, upon the causes of absence of mind, and hastily withdrew to seek once more the society of his beloved Mrs, Weston in the parlour. ‘‘The causes of absence of mind,” said Mr. Scuttle, ‘‘ have been vainly conjectured. Last winter, I recollect that one evening I was seated in my study discussing a bottle of Burgundy, when I took it into my head to have some chestnuts. Laccordingly summoned my servant, and desired him to bring me some of those edibles; and in order to make myself more comfortable, | ordered him to get me my slippers at the same time. Well, gentlemen—he brought them; and what do you think I did?) Why—! putthe chestnuts into the slippers and my toes between the bars, and never found out my mistake till I hadn’t a bit of skin left on my foot.” ‘‘May my forehead be termed wrinkled and my hair gray,”’—ex- claimed Mr. Nassau Siffkin, ‘‘if I ever heard of so extraordinary ar anecdoie!”’ “It was callidum opus—hot work, at all events,” said Mr. Septimus. Chitty. ‘“‘ But by no means a part of my system,” added Mr. Hook Walker. “Oh! it was nothing to what occurred to me when I wasin England some years ago,’ continued Myr. Scuttle: ‘‘I was dining with some friends at Long’s Hotel, when in a moment of abstraction I took my handkerchief from the skirt of my coat, and in a paroxysm of rage rushed into the street to give myself in charge for having picked my own pocket! The best of it was, I didn’t detect my error till the police- man took me to the station-house ona charge of being intoxicated and disorderly in the streets.” “ Melius et melius—betier and better,” said Mr. Chitty. “Soyou — i were the sufferer in the longus curro—long run ?”” At this moment Mr. Kallaway interrupted the conversation by re- questing a minute’s private discourse with Mr. Scuttle—a demand _ that was immediately complied with by that gentleman. comicbooks.com >