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Elisha Cuthbert Photos Books: Martin Eden The Pickwick Papers The Sea Wolf |
smartly tied pumps.
YOU in silk stockings! exclaimed Mr. Tupman jocosely.
And why not, sir--why not? said Mr. Pickwick, turning
warmly upon him.
Oh, of course there is no reason why you shouldnt wear
them, responded Mr. Tupman.
I imagine not, sir--I imagine not, said Mr. Pickwick, in a
very peremptory tone.
Mr. Tupman had contemplated a laugh, but he found it was
a serious matter; so he looked grave, and said they were a
pretty pattern.
I hope they are, said Mr. Pickwick, fixing his eyes upon his
friend. You see nothing extraordinary in the stockings, AS
stockings, I trust, Sir?
Certainly not. Oh, certainly not, replied Mr. Tupman. He
walked away; and Mr. Pickwicks countenance resumed its
customary benign expression.
We are all ready, I believe, said Mr. Pickwick, who was
stationed with the old lady at the top of the dance, and had
already made four false starts, in his excessive anxiety to commence.
Then begin at once, said Wardle. Now!
Up struck the two fiddles and the one harp, and off went
Mr. Pickwick into hands across, when there was a general
clapping of hands, and a cry of Stop, stop!
Whats the matter? said Mr. Pickwick, who was only brought
to, by the fiddles and harp desisting, and could have been stopped
by no other earthly power, if the house had been on fire.
Wheres Arabella Allen? cried a dozen voices.
And Winkle?added Mr. Tupman.
Here we are! exclaimed that gentleman, emerging with his
pretty companion from the corner; as he did so, it would have
been hard to tell which was the redder in the face, he or the
young lady with the black eyes.
What an extraordinary thing it is, Winkle, said Mr. Pickwick,
rather pettishly, that you couldnt have taken your place before.
Not at all extraordinary, said Mr. Winkle.
Well, said Mr. Pickwick, with a very expressive smile, as his
eyes rested on Arabella, well, I dont know that it WAS
extraordinary, either, after all.
However, there was no time to think more about the matter,
for the fiddles and harp began in real earnest. Away went Mr.
Pickwick--hands across--down the middle to the very end of the
room, and half-way up the chimney, back again to the door--
poussette everywhere--loud stamp on the ground--ready for the
next couple--off again--all the figure over once more--another
stamp to beat out the time--next couple, and the next, and the
next again--never was such going; at last, after they had reached
the bottom of the dance, and full fourteen couple after the old
lady had retired in an exhausted state, and the clergymans wife
had been substituted in her stead, did that gentleman, when there
was no demand whatever on his exertions, keep perpetually
dancing in his place, to keep time to the music, smiling on his
partner all the while with a blandness of demeanour which
baffles all description.
Long before Mr. Pickwick was weary of dancing, the newly-
married couple had retired from the scene. There was a glorious
supper downstairs, notwithstanding, and a good long sitting
after it; and when Mr. Pickwick awoke, late the next morning,
he had a confused recollection of having, severally and
confidentially, invited somewhere about five-and-forty people to dine
with him at the George and Vulture, the very first time they came
to London; which Mr. Pickwick rightly considered a pretty
certain indication of his having taken something besides exercise,
on the previous night.
And so your family has games in the kitchen to-night, my
dear, has they? inquired Sam of Emma.
Yes, Mr. Weller, replied Emma; we always have on Christmas
Eve. Master wouldnt neglect to keep it up on any account.
Your masters a wery pretty notion of keeping anythin up,
my dear, said Mr. Weller; I never see such a sensible sort of
man as he is, or such a reglar genlmn.
Oh, that he is! said the fat boy, joining in the conversation;
dont he breed nice pork! The fat youth gave a semi-cannibalic
leer at Mr. Weller, as he thought of the roast legs and gravy.
Oh, youve woke up, at last, have you? said Sam.
The fat boy nodded.
Ill tell you what it is, young boa-constructer, said Mr. Weller
impressively; if you dont sleep a little less, and exercise a little
more, wen you comes to be a man youll lay yourself open to the
same sort of personal inconwenience as was inflicted on the old
genlmn as wore the pigtail.
What did they do to him? inquired the fat boy, in a faltering voice.
Im a-going to tell you, replied Mr. Weller; The Pickwick Papers page 188 The Pickwick Papers page 190 |