Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/289

225 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 225

to seein' some queer starts if I did, I put my name down for a ticket ; at six o'clock on the Friday evenin' I dresses myself out, vvery smart, and off I goes vith the old 'ooman, and up we walks into a fust floor where there was tea things for thirty, and a whole lot o' women as begins whisperin' to one another, and lookin' at me, as if they'd never seen a rayther stout gen'lm'n of eight-and-fifty afore. By and bye, there comes a great bustle down stairs, and a lanky chap with a red nose and white neckcloth rushes up, and sings out, ' Here's the shepherd a coming to wisit his faithful flock ;' and in comes a fat chap in black, vith a great white face, a smilin' avay like clock-work. Such goin's on, Sammy.

all round, and ven he'd done, the man vith the red nose began. 1 was just a thinkin' whether I hadn't better begin too — 'specially as there was a wery nice lady a sittin' next me — ven in comes the tea, and your mother-in-law, as had been makin* the kettle boil, down stairs. At it they went, tooth and nail. Such a precious loud hymn Sammy, while the tea was a brewing ; such a grace, such eatin' and drinkin'. I wish you could ha' seen the shepherd walkin' into the ham and muffins. I never see such a chap to eat and drink — never. The red-nosed man warn't by no means the sort of person you'd like to grub by contract, but he was nothin' to the shepherd. Well ; arter the tea was over, they sang another hymn, and then the shepherd began to preach : and wery well he did it, considerin' how heavy them muffins must have lied on his chest. Presently he pulls up, all of a sudden, and hollers out,
 * The kiss of peace,' says the shepherd ; and then he kissed the women

women looked at me, and began to groan as if they was dying. I thought it was rather sing'ler, but hows'ever, I says nothing. Presently he pulls up again, and lookin' wery hard at me, says, 'Where is the sinner; where is the mis'rable sinner I ' and all the women groans again, ten times louder than afore. I got rather savage at this, so I takes a step or two for'ard and says, * My friend,' says I, ' did you apply that e're obserwa- tion to me ?' — 'Stead of beggin' my pardon as any gen'lm'n would ha' done, he got more abusive than ever : called me a wessel, Sammy — a wessel of wrath — and all sorts o' names. So my blood being reg'iarly up, I first gave him two or three for himself, and then two or three more to hand over to the man with the red nose, and walked off. I wish you could ha' heard how the women screamed Sammy, ven they
 * Where is the sinner; where is the mis'rable sinner ?' upon which, all the

picked up the shepherd from under the table. Hallo ! here's the

governor, the size of life.' "

As Mr. Weller spoke, Mr. Pickwick dismounted from a cab, and en- tered the yard.

" Fine mornin' Sir" — said Mr. Weller senior.

" Beautiful indeed" — replied Mr. Pickwick.

" Beautiful indeed," echoed a red-haired man with an inquisitive nose and blue spectacles, who had unpacked himself from a cab at the same moment as Mr. Pickwick. " Going to Ipswich, Sir ? "


 * I am," replied Mr. Pickwick.

" Extraordinary coincidence. So am I."

Mr. Pickwick bowed.

'* Going outside ? " said the red-haired man.