Pickwick Abroad; or, The Tour in France — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

PICKWICK ABROAD. 83 ** Have you been to the Italian Opera, ma’am ?” enquired the young rake, of the vulgar stout lady. “No, Sir, I has not,” was the reply.“ I can’t say as how I likes the theayters ; they’re so very hot, and I does pus-pire so, 1t 1s quite uncomfortable.” * Lauk-a-daisy, mamma,” whispered one of the young ladies; ** how you are talking, to be sure!” ‘“* Nonsense, Jemima,” returned the stout lady; then addressing herself once more to the young gentleman with the dissipated look, she said, ‘I once went to the “Academy of Music—the Great Opera, as they call it—and what with the s queeging, the pus-piration, the skrecking of the actresses, the glare of hght, and all kinds of un- pleasantness, I never was so wexed in all my life—quite bewildered and all no-how, you know.”’ The pale- faced gentleman sipped his Madeira, and did not venture to continue the conversation. “D that waiter,” exclaimed the parson; ‘‘ he’s taken away my plate.” ¢ And, by Jasus, I’d break his. head, if “twas mine,” kindly hinted one of the Irish gentlemen. “T’ve a devilish great mind to do so,” returned the clerical in- dividual; but, on second thoughts, he consoled himself with a clean plate, the half of a boiled fowl, ‘and another bottle of Macon. “ Well, I never did see such a skrimmage, 1 in all my born days!” exclaimed the vulgar lady, for the information of the rakish youth on her left hand: but that individual was quite inaccessible to the farther attempts of his stout neighbour to renew the conversation. ‘** By the powers, Sir—and you have made free with my bread!” cried one of the Irish gentlemen to the French czzrassier. “* Je ne vous comprends pas, Monsieur,’ observed the officer, with a desperate shrug of the shoulder. ‘“* Arrah, and by Jasus, now, that’s an insult, Misther Frog,” ejacu- lated the irascible Ir ishman ; . “and it’s that which Michael O'Donovan won't put up with at all, at all!” The old French dandy, perceiving that there was some misunderstand- ing, and comprehending its trivial origin, explained to his military fellow-countryman the cause of the Ir ish gentleman’ s indignation. ‘Nothing but a mating or the most abject apology will suffice, cried Mr. Michael O'Donovan in a menacing manner. These alternatives were duly interpreted to the czaassier, who desired the sexagenary dandy to inform the offended Irishman that he was perfectly willing to meet him in the Bois de Boulogne on the following morning at day-light. The choler of the irasci ible son of _ Erin considerably diminished when the polite offer of the French cuirassier was made known to him; and after a brief consultation with his friends, he declared that he w vould be satisfied if the euards- man would order the waiter to supply another piece of bread, and in that case he would not press the meeting. The officer disdained to listen to the proposition; so the Irishman had to call for his own bread, and decline the hostité interview-into the bargain; while the Frenchman sipped his wine as if nothing of importance had occurred. Mr. Pickwick had seen quite enough of the table-d hote for that 79 EoOmMmichbooks (ECO) =)