Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/541

449 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 449

Mr. Pickwick thought so also ; but, under all the circumstances, he considered it a matter of sound policy to be silent.

Mr. Simpson mused for a few moments after this, and then, thrusting- his head out of the window, gave a shrill whistle, and pronounced some word aloud several times. What the word was, Mr. Pickwick could not distinguish ; but he rather inferred that it must be some nickname which distinguished Mr. Martin, from the fact of a great number of gentle- men on the ground below, immediately proceeding to cry " Butcher," in imitation of the tone in which that useful class of society are wont diurnally to make their presence known at area railings.

Subsequent occurrences confirmed the accuracy of Mr. Pickwick's impression ; for, in a few seconds, a gentleman, prematurely broad for his years, clothed in a professional blue jean frock, and top-boots with circular toes, entered the room nearly out of breath, closely followed by another gentleman in very shabby black, and a seal-skin cap. The latter gentleman, who fastened his coat all the way up to his chin by means of a pin and a button alternately, had a very coarse red face, and looked like a drunken chaplain, which, indeed, he was.

These two gentlemen having by turns perused Mr. Pickwick's billet, the one expressed his opinion that it was " a rig," and the other his conviction that it was " a go," Having recorded their feelings in these very intelligible terms, they looked at Mr. Pickwick and each other in awkward silence.

" It's an aggravating thing, just as we got the beds so snug," said the chaplain, looking at three dirty mattresses, each rolled up in a blanket, which occupied one corner of the room during the day, and formed a kind of slab, on which were placed an old cracked basin, ewer, and soap- dish, of common yellow earthenware, with a blue flower : " Very aggra- vating."

Mr. Martin expressed the same opinion, in rather stronger terms; Mr. Simpson, after having let a variety of expletive adjectives loose upon society without any substantive to accompany them, tucked up his sleeves, and began to wash the greens for dinner.

While this was going on, Mr. Pickwick had been eyeing the room, which was filthily dirty, and smelt intolerably close. There was no vestige of either carpet, curtain, or blind. There was not even a closet in it. Unquestionably there were but few things to put away, if there had been one ; but, however few in number, or small in individual amount, still remnants of loaves, and pieces of cheese, and damp towels, and scraps of meat, and articles of wearing apparel, and mutilated crockery, and bellows without nozzles, and toasting-forks without prongs, do present something of an uncomfortable appearance when they are scattered about the floor of a small apartment, which is the common sitting and sleeping room of three idle men.

" I suppose this can be managed somehow," said the butcher, after a pretty long silence. " What will you take to go out ?"

I hardly understand you."
 * ' I beg your pardon," replied Mr. Pickwick. " What did you say ?

"What will you take to be paid out?" said the butcher. "The regular chummage is two-and-sixpence. Will you take three bob ? "