Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/94

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POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

" Ah ! " said the old lady, after a short pause ; " It 's all very fine, I dare say ; but I can't hear him."

" Grandma 's rather put out now," said Miss Isabella Wardle, in a low tone ; " but she'll talk to you presently."

Mr. Pickwick nodded his readiness to humour the infirmities of age, and entered into a general conversation with the other members of the circle.

" Delightful situation this," said Mr. Pickwick.

" Delightful I " echoed Messrs. Snodgrass, Tupraan, and Winkle.

" Well, I think it is," said Mr. Wardle.

headed man with the pippin-face ; " there ain't indeed, Sir — I'm sure there ain't, Sir;" and the hard-headei man looked triumphantly round, as if he had been very much contradicted by somebody, but had got the better of him at last.
 * ' There ain't a better spot o' ground in all Kent, Sir," said the hard-

" There ain't a better spot o' ground in all Kent," said the hard- headed man again, after a pause.

" 'Cept MuUins' Meadows," observed the fat man, solemnly.

" Mullins' Meadows I " ejaculated the other, with profound con- tempt.


 * ' Ah, MuUins' Meadows," repeated the fat man.

" Reg'lar good land that," interposed another fat man.


 * ' And so it is, sure-ly," said a third fat man.

" Everybody knows that," said the corpulent host.

The hard-headed man looked dubiously round, but finding himself in a minority, assumed a compassionate air, and said no more.

" What are they talking about ? " inquired the old lady of one of her grand- daughters, in a very audible voice ; for, like many deaf people, she never seemed to calculate on the possibility of other persons hearing what she said herself.

" About the land, grandma."

" What about the land ? — Nothing the matter, is there ? "

" No, no. Mr. Miller was saying our land was better than Mullins* Meadows."

" How should he know anything about it ? " inquired the old lady indignantly. " Miller *s a conceited coxcomb, and you may tell him I said so." Saying which, the old lady, quite uncoiscious that she had spoken above a whisper, drew herself up, and loolied carving knives at the hard-headed delinquent.

" Come, come," said the bustling host, with a natural anxiety to change the conversation, — "What say you to a rubber, Mr. Pick- wick ? "

" I should like it of all things," replied that gentleman ; " but pray don't make up one on my account."

" Oh, I assure you, mother's very fond of a rubber," said Mr. Wardle ; " ain't you mother?"

The old lady, who was much less deaf on this subject than on any other, replied in the affirmative.

" Joe, Joe," said the old gentleman — *' Joe — damn that — oh. here he is ; put out the card-tables."