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The Pickwick Papers 156

Elisha Cuthbert Photos


Martin Eden

The Pickwick Papers

The Sea Wolf

Mr. Weller, and from that, an acquaintance sprung up between us, and I may venture to say, Mr. Weller, that I am to be the chandler. Ah, and a wery amiable chandler youll make, replied Sam, eyeing Job with a side look of intense dislike. The great advantage of this, Mr. Weller, continued Job, his eyes filling with tears as he spoke, will be, that I shall be able to leave my present disgraceful service with that bad man, and to devote myself to a better and more virtuous life; more like the way in which I was brought up, Mr. Weller. You must ha been wery nicely brought up, said Sam. Oh, very, Mr. Weller, very, replied Job. At the recollection of the purity of his youthful days, Mr. Trotter pulled forth the pink handkerchief, and wept copiously. You must ha been an uncommon nice boy, to go to school vith, said Sam. I was, sir, replied Job, heaving a deep sigh; I was the idol of the place. Ah, said Sam, I dont wonder at it. What a comfort you must ha been to your blessed mother. At these words, Mr. Job Trotter inserted an end of the pink handkerchief into the corner of each eye, one after the other, and began to weep copiously. Wots the matter with the man, said Sam, indignantly. Chelsea water-works is nothin to you. What are you melting vith now? The consciousness o willainy? I cannot keep my feelings down, Mr. Weller, said Job, after a short pause. To think that my master should have suspected the conversation I had with yours, and so dragged me away in a post-chaise, and after persuading the sweet young lady to say she knew nothing of him, and bribing the school-mistress to do the same, deserted her for a better speculation! Oh! Mr. Weller, it makes me shudder. Oh, that was the vay, was it? said Mr. Weller. To be sure it was, replied Job. Vell, said Sam, as they had now arrived near the hotel, I vant to have a little bit o talk with you, Job; so if youre not partickler engaged, I should like to see you at the Great White Horse to- night, somewheres about eight oclock. I shall be sure to come, said Job. Yes, youd better, replied Sam, with a very meaning look, or else I shall perhaps be askin arter you, at the other side of the green gate, and then I might cut you out, you know. I shall be sure to be with you, sir, said Mr. Trotter; and wringing Sams hand with the utmost fervour, he walked away. Take care, Job Trotter, take care, said Sam, looking after him, or I shall be one too many for you this time. I shall, indeed. Having uttered this soliloquy, and looked after Job till he was to be seen no more, Mr. Weller made the best of his way to his masters bedroom. Its all in training, Sir, said Sam. Whats in training, Sam? inquired Mr. Pickwick. Ive found em out, Sir, said Sam. Found out who? That ere queer customer, and the melan-cholly chap with the black hair. Impossible, Sam! said Mr. Pickwick, with the greatest energy. Where are they, Sam: where are they? Hush, hush! replied Mr. Weller; and as he assisted Mr. Pickwick to dress, he detailed the plan of action on which he proposed to enter. But when is this to be done, Sam? inquired Mr. Pickwick. All in good time, Sir, replied Sam. Whether it was done in good time, or not, will be seen hereafter.



When Mr. Pickwick descended to the room in which he and Mr. Peter Magnus had spent the preceding evening, he found that gentleman with the major part of the contents of the two bags, the leathern hat-box, and the brown-paper parcel, displaying to all possible advantage on his person, while he himself was pacing up and down the room in a state of the utmost excitement and agitation. Good-morning, Sir, said Mr. Peter Magnus. What do you think of this, Sir? Very effective indeed, replied Mr. Pickwick, surveying the garments of Mr. Peter Magnus with a good-natured smile. Yes, I think itll do, said Mr. Magnus. Mr. Pickwick, Sir, I have sent up my card. Have you? said Mr. Pickwick. And the waiter brought back word, that she would see me at eleven--at eleven, Sir; it

The Pickwick Papers page 155        The Pickwick Papers page 157