Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/141

93 TUB PICKWICK CLUB. OS

ve did,' says tbe touler, * you're a babby to him — this vay, Sir — thit> vay ! ' — and sure enough my father walks urter him, like a tame monkey behind a horgan, into a little back office, vere a feller sat among dirty papers and tin boxes, making believe he was busy. * Pray take a seat, vile I makes out the affidavit, Sir,' says the lawyer. — * 'J'hunkee, Sir,* says my father, and down he sat, and stared vith all his eyes, and his mouth vide open, at the names on the boxes. — * What's your name, Sir,' says the lawyer.' — * Tony Weller,' says my father. — ' Parish ? * says the lawyer. — ' Belle Savage,* says my father ; for he stopped there ven he drove up, and he know'd nothing about parishes, he didn't. —

all of a heap. ' Blessed if I know,* says he. — ' Not know ! ' says the lawyer.—' No more nor you do,' says my father, ' can't I put that in arterwards ? ' — ' Impossible I ' says the lawyer. — ' Wery well,' says my father, after he'd thought a moment, 'put down Mrs. Clarke.* —
 * And what's the lady's name?' says the lawyer. My father was struck

C Wke, Markis o' Granby, Dorking,' says my father ; * she'll have me, if £ ask her, 1 des-say — I never said nothing to her, but she'll have me, I know.' The licence was made out, and she did have him, and what's more she's got him now ; and / never had any of the four hundred pound, worse luck. Beg your pardon. Sir," said Sam, when he had concluded, " but vhen I gets on this here grievance, I runs on like a new barrow vith the vheel greased." Having said which, and having paused for an instant to see whether he was w anted for any thing more, 8am left the room.
 * What Clarke? ' says the lawyer, dipping his pen in the ink. — ' Susan

♦* Half-past nine — just the time — off at once ;" said the gentleman, whom we need hardly introduce as Mr. Jingle.

" Time — for what ? " said the spinster aunt, coquettishly.

" Licence, dearest of angels — give notice at the church — call you mine, to-morrow " — said Mr. Jingle, and he squeezed the spinster aunt's hand.

" The licence ! " said Rachael, blushing.


 * • The licence," repeated jNIr. Jingle —

" In hurry, post-hoete for a licence. Id hurry, ding dong I come back."


 * ' How you run on," said Rachael.

" Run on — nothing to the hours, days, weeks, months, years, when we're united — run on — they'll fly on — bolt — mizzle — steam-engine — thousand-horse power — nothing to it.'*

" Can't — can't we be married before to-morrow morning ? " inquired Rachael.

" Impossible — can't be — notice at the church — leave the licence to- day — ceremony come off to-morrow."

" I am so terrified, lest my brother should discover us ! " said Rachael.

" Discover — nonsense — too much shaken by the break down — bebides— extreme caution — gave up the post-chaise — walked on — took.