Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 335: what you’re looking at

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

22 PICKWICK ABROAD. ‘No, my dear friends,” cried Mr. Pickwick, softened even to tears by these demonstrations of regard and attachment; “ the gaiters and the tights are inseparable from the name of Pickwick. But there are other changes to be effected in the conditions of men—” ‘© VYegs—the hat!’ said Mr. Winkle in a mournful voice. ‘‘ Or the eye-glass,” suggested Mr. Tupman: then feeling that he ought to possess some influence over his great leader, and that the time was come to exercise it, he added in a serious and impressive tone, ‘‘ Pickwick, I implore you not to introduce any change m your attire. Think of the consequences to ourselyes—to posterity—and to the world in general !”’ And having uttered this sublime adjuration, Mr. Tupman threw himself back in his chair and got up a little scene with a coupse of tears and a white pocket-handkerchief. It was a most interesting moment! There stood the great hero of these Memoirs with his mouth half- open, expressive of astonishment at his friends’ grief—on one side sate Nathaniel Winkle with so rueful a countenance that no one could. doubt the truth of his havmg worked himself up toa very melo-dra- matic and affecting pitch of misery—and on the other was Tracy Tup- man, with his mind buried in meditation, and his face in a handker- chief. Had Davidge of the Surrey Theatre only contemplated that scene for one single instant, he would have closed his next play with an imitative tableau, calculated to bring tears into even the eyes of the hard-hearted costermonger or reckless scavenger of St. George’s Fields ! ‘“Tupman—no more of this: Winkle, I conjure you,’ said Mr. Pickwick after along pause; but Mr. Pickwick did not inform (Mr. Winkle what he so earnestly solicited him to perform. ‘¢T am tranquil now,” murmured Mr. Tupman; and indeed it was a wonder that he had ever been otherwise. ‘‘ Pray keep us in suspense no longer,” cried Mr. Winkle. “¢T will not, my dear friends,” said Mr. Pickwick. “The change to which I alluded is simply this. I am gomg—that is, I have some thoughts of being”. “What !” exclaimed Messieurs. Tupman and Winkle in a breath. ‘“‘ Married!’ said Mr. Pickwick; and he coolly contemplated the countenances of his friends, one after the other, devoting at least a minute to each survey. ‘* Married !”’ screamed Mr. Winkle. “¢ Married !”’ shouted Mr. Tupman. ‘“‘ Married!” echoed Mr. Pickwick, a smile of benevolence curling his lip. ‘‘ And to the loveliest of her sex. I beg you to look upon Mrs. Weston as my intended wife.” Mr. Tupman stared at his venerable friend in stupid astonishment ; and Mr. Winkle, fearful that the senses of the said venerable friend were alittle deranged, jumped from his chair with considerable ala- crity, seized the fire-tongs and ran to the opposite side of the room, so \ as to be near the door in case any more convincing proofs of approach- — ing insanity should develop themselves. But Mr. Pickwick looked and spoke anything but like a mad person. a A | I see that you are astonished,” said this extraordinary man, not fd ‘ Eomicbooks.com 4 e ’ er > oi