Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

PICKWICK ABROAD. 63 served the valet-de-pluce in excellent English. ‘Dut ail the best specimens of those great masters—Jean ae Juni and Gillis van der Riviere, or Egidio Fiamingo, as the latter is usually called—suffered in those times ne heii the wack was so addicted to Iconoclasm !”’ * ‘And a wery nice vord it is,” observed Mr. Weller.‘ Easily pro-nounced, and not at all difficult to speli, I should rayther think.” “A very pretty jittle amusement, I dare say,’ said Mr. Pickwick: ‘« but pray is it out of repute now?” “ What, Sir ?” enquired the valet-de-place. «The game you alluded to just now,” explained Mr. Pickwick, casting a glance of appeal at Mr. Tupman, who had turned away his head and pretended to examine the French inscription to the me- mory of the heroes of July. ‘* Je n'y comprends rien !”’ cried the valet with a shrug of his shoul- ders, and a lamentable distortion of his countenance, which appeared to be occasioned by the pity he experienced for those who did not understand a term be had invariably made use of, every time he was happy enough to conduct strangers to the Pantheon, during the last ten years of his life. The Garden of Plants—Notre-Dame—and the Morgue were then severally inspected in their turns by our persevering travellers; and on every occasion did the valet seek an opportunity of displaying his erudition to advantage. But we will not fatigue our readers by an ela- borate account of “ the lions” of Paris. Suffice it to say, that it was five o'clock in the evening when Mr. Pickwick and his companions returned to Meurice’s fetch and as they had signified their inten- tion of dining: at the table-a’ hote, they were only just in time to wash and dress the mselves in order to appear decently at the wastronomi- eal ordeal through which they were to pass. The signal- bell rang at the usual hour—half-past ee ae Mr. Pe Reick’ followed by Mr. Pupman, Mr. Boozie, Mr. Crashem, and Mr. Winkle, proceeded to the spacious apartment, where a table was spread for upwards of sixty people. * Admirable display !” observed Mr. Pickwick, as he entered the room, rubbing his hands with delight. «¢ Not balf'« so fine as my f PR at Crashem Park,” observed the heir os ge epee to the said territory. “Ah! Sugden, my boy *” exclaimed a young gentleman, stepping forward from amidst a group of Englishmen with whom he had been conversing : * what the devil brought you here?) Why—I thought you were travelling for thie creat haberdashers in the City, still! What were their names—though 2 Oh! I recollect—Bodkin and Grogram—to be sure !—But what did bring you here?” stranger clasped Mr. Adolphus Crashem’s hand with andeigeeal de- light. , we My dear Sir—really—now—” stammered that gentleman, his countenance changing from pink to white, and white to pink alter- nately. “What! don’t you recollect your old friend Tirns 2?” exclaimed * Image-breaking. EO MICLOOOLK<S =