Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 350: what you’re looking at

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

PICKWICK ABROAD. 354 have every appearance of a legitimate noble. The Count, howeve:, ventured to suggest an increase of swagger, anda little drawling in the voice, on their arrival at mns; and these hints having been duly at. tended to, Mr. Snodgrass’s style of personating his superiors was pro- nounced to be inimitable. “ How vary well you do it, milord Snowgrass,” observed the Countess Loveminski, just after they had changed horses at a small village: “‘ ven de Count call you Count before dem people at de inn, you look so noble, and dey all bow wid respect.” _ “Your favourable opinion is exceedingly flatterme,” said. Mr. Snodgrass, with a low salaam, at which the Count Boloski nodded ap- provingly, and tendered his friend a pinch of snuff from the box of his illustrious relative. ‘‘ It seems very easy to be a lord,” added Mr, Snodgrass. ““O yes,” exclaimed Count Boloskt; then, with great frankness, he began to detail the modern qualifications of aristocracy. ‘“‘ You must take care,” said he, and keep pace with the other lords of the day ; and in order to do so, you must be exceedingly skilful in wrenching off knockers, thrashing police-officers, fighting hackney-coachmen, and getting bills discounted. If yom can seduce a man’s wife, you will be esteemed the very essence of gallantry—tiat is, am mdividual a little too fond of intrigue; and the ladies will say behind your back, ‘Oh! the naughty man: he’s acharming creature, however? You need not be afraid of committing any disturbance in the street at night, because the police magistrates never punish you, if you bea lord, beyond a paltry fine of five shillings: they would not dare think of sendmg you to the tread-mill, such is the happy state of the artstocracy in Eng- land. You must moreover be deeply in debt, and have all the sheriff’s- officers in your pay—bespeak the benefits of the fashionable actresses— drive a coach every now and then on the Bath or Brighton Road—attend the gambling-houses—get up prize-fights—nod to all the jockeys and black-legs upon town—and pass six weeks every now and then in the King’s Bench.” **God bless me!” exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, who had listened to this tirade in hitherto silent astonishment; “‘is that all that’s necessary to make a nobleman 2” ‘*"That—and knowing how to tie a cravat, talk nonsense, play at billiards, and despise every thing connected with the poor,” added Count Boloski. And yet,” pursued Mr. Snodgrass, ‘‘if a person in the middle walks of life were to be guilty of such performances, he would be for ever disgraced and shunned.” ‘“‘That’s the very thing,” returned Count Boloski; ‘‘for if the aristocracy hadn’t the little privileges I mentioned, what’s the use of their titles 2” ““Vot indeed ?” repeated the beauteous Loveminski. ‘“ De poor mans is but de shutile-cock which de aristocrat strike wid his bat at his pleasure.” _ “Sweet illustration!’ exclaimed the enraptured Mr. Snodgrass, as he exchanged a tender glance with the Countess, which her cousin © Of course would not perceive. ‘That very aristocracy is the glory of the English nation,” observed 43 } , (E(@) =) /. ye ~~ A ia Gomicbooks