Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 383: what you’re looking at

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

370 PICKWICK ABROAD. WONDERFUL FACT. Van Amburgh, the tamer of all the fierce scions Of the savage brute race—both tigers and lions—- One evening was nearly becoming a feast For the half-famished maw of his favourite beast. He entered the cage with his whip in his hand, And dauntless amidst the fierce crew did he stand ; Then played with their mouths, without terror or dread— But the hon waxed wrathful and snapped off his head. The actors they screamed, and the audience ran out, And confusion prevailed around and about :— The corpse from the cage by the keeper was torn, And thence into the Green-room immediately borne. + Now, by some lucky chance, the keeper had got . Of Holloway’s Family Ointment a pot ; And with it he rubbed both the neck and the head— Then he stuck them together altho’ they were dead. Will marvels e’er cease? the head opened its eyes, And the besom gave vent to two or three sighs: The legs began quivering down to the toes— Then the arms felt th’ effects—and Van Amburgk arose! You need not believe it unless you’re inclined— But wherefore to truth should we all remain blind? Moreover—we know that while this I indite, The brute-tamer’s alive, and performs every night. ‘*Have you got a five-franc piece ?” enquired the unsentimental Mr. Hook Walker, when Mr. Chitty brought this poem to a conclusion. ‘¢ What do you think of my production?” enquired the poet. ‘Oh! admiration is not a part of my system,” hastily observed Mr. Walker: “but discount is.” «¢ And what do you want five francs for ?” demanded Mr. Chitty. ““Why—to buy a stamp with, to be sure,” was the immediate answer: ‘‘and then we can drink a bottle of beer with the rest.” “T really do not think my exchequer is so extensive,” said Mr. Chitty: ‘“‘I am very short—vaide brevis—at this moment, and have nothing about me but my loculus léber—pocket-book.” ““Here’s Siffkin, I declare!’’ suddenly cried Mr. Hook Walker, with a vehemence extremely at variance with the equanimity of a systematic man: and ina few moments thetwo friends were accosted by Mr. Nassau Siff kin. | ‘“* Halloo, Siffkin,” began Mr. Walker: “an early lounge 1s also apart of your system, it appears.” _ “Pray don’t Stfkin me,” cried that gentleman, flourishing a stick In extreme wrath around his head. ‘‘ 1 am going to horse-whip you, Sir, with this stick!” “Who? me!’ ejaculated Mr. Chitty. Eomichooks