The Steam-Packet: A Tale of the River and the Ocean — page 192: what you’re looking at

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

THE STEAM PACKET. 143 delicate indeed. In fact I can’t keep it any longer ;—it will out—like elbows through a seedy coat.” The tailor paused for a moment, and after appearing to reflect deeply upon some most important matter, added, ‘‘ Pifpaf, I am in love!”’ ** Your lordship in love ?—no!”’ ejaculated the chairman, with well- affected astonishment, although he was in reality now well prepared for the revelation about to be made to him. | ‘**?Pon honour I am!” cried Mr. Buckram; “‘ deeply—desperately —decidedly—definitively in love. Completely basted, overlayed, and sewn up with love—and no mistake! There, Pifpaf, what do you think of that ?”—and the tailor gave the worthy chairman such a slap upon the tender part of the thigh with the flat of his hand, that the venerable gentleman’s fiesh tingled for a quarter of an hour afterwards. | **My lord, you ask me my opinion concerning matters ofa very delicate—indeed a very domestic and private nature, I may say,” observed Mr. Pifpaf, with great solemnity, but rubbing his thigh all the time: “certainly your lordship has a right to fall in love—none more so ;—and, considering your lordship’s exalted position, princely fortune, and estimable character—your lordship will excuse the com- pliment 7 ‘* Pifpaf, old fellow, you do me proud!” interrupted the tailor, raising his hand to inflies another of those slaps which were expressive of an amiable familiarity; but the chairman of the Luminaries with- drew his seat, and avoided the meditated assault and battery. ‘“¢ Your lordship, then, is in love?” said Mr. Pifpaf. ‘‘ Might I venture to hope, as your lordship’s very sincere mend, that the abject - is worthy of your affection 2?” “‘ Pifpaf, you press me hard,” returned the soi-disant nobleman. “¢ Come now—I ’ll lay you a new surtout, with silk. facings, against a velveteen shooting jacket-——” ‘“‘T never make bets, my lord,” said Mr. Pifpaf reprovingly. ‘Then I will not keep you any longer in suspense,” ejaculated the gallant tailor. ‘‘ Pifpaf, my boy, I love your daughter—your amiable daughter Belinda—the beautiful, lively, romping Belinda! xay— speak the word—shall I down upon my marrow-bones—shall I ask forgiveness of you on my knees ?” <‘By no means, my lord,” said Mr. Pifpaf, quite alarmed at the theatrical frenzy siddeadlyaaliamcd by the admirer of his daughter. _ You do me too much honour: I am unable to express my thanks— my gratitude ;—upon my word I am quite overcome !”’ And Mr. Pifpaf, in a very natural fit of abstraction, considering the CORMICLOOOLKS (E)