Page:Hopkinson Smith--In Dickens's London.djvu/87

THE BULL AT ROCHESTER days, has devoted so small a sum as an English sixpence toward its restoration and adornment there is not the slightest evidence of any such wasteful extravagance. The same old chairs are still backed up against the wall—the identical pair in which the widow and Mr. Jingle sat after the dance—the "elevated den" still hangs from the ceiling with its flight of back stairs up which the musicians climbed and from which issued the music that set everybody's feet in motion; the old, battered fireplace; the left-behind portrait decorating the far wall; the high, curtained windows through which the afternoon sun blazed, stencilling patterns of light and dark over the bare floor; the door leading to the small passage through which Doctor Slammer stormed and swore—they are all here!

It was quite easy, therefore, with the rooms spread out before me, to recall the scene which took place on its floor the night when Jingle (who had borrowed Mr. Winkle's coat while that worthy Pickwickian slept) after eyeing the buxom lady soon to be Slammer's bride, broke out with:

"Lots of money—old girl—pompous doctor—not a bad idea—good fun," and announced to Mr. Tupman's amazement:

"'I'll dance with the widow.&hellip;'

"'Who is she?' inquired Mr. Tupman.

"'Don't know—never saw her in all my life—cut out the Doctor—here goes.' And Jingle forthwith crossed the room and leaning against the mantelpiece commenced gazing with an air of respectful and melancholy admiration on the fat countenance of the little old lady. Mr. Tupman 49