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The Pickwick Papers 209







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silent, internal chuckle, which Mr. Pickwick disliked to hear. When a man bleeds inwardly, it is a dangerous thing for himself; but when he laughs inwardly, it bodes no good to other people. You havent made me out that little list of the fees that Im in your debt, have you? said Perker. No, I have not, replied the clerk. I wish you would, said Perker. Let me have them, and Ill send you a cheque. But I suppose youre too busy pocketing the ready money, to think of the debtors, eh? ha, ha, ha! This sally seemed to tickle the clerk amazingly, and he once more enjoyed a little quiet laugh to himself. But, Mr. Mallard, my dear friend, said Perker, suddenly recovering his gravity, and drawing the great mans great man into a Corner, by the lappel of his coat; you must persuade the Serjeant to see me, and my client here. Come, come, said the clerk, thats not bad either. See the Serjeant! come, thats too absurd. Notwithstanding the absurdity of the proposal, however, the clerk allowed himself to be gently drawn beyond the hearing of Mr. Pickwick; and after a short conversation conducted in whispers, walked softly down a little dark passage, and disappeared into the legal luminarys sanctum, whence he shortly returned on tiptoe, and informed Mr. Perker and Mr. Pickwick that the Serjeant had been prevailed upon, in violation of all established rules and customs, to admit them at once. Mr. Serjeant Snubbins was a lantern-faced, sallow-complexioned man, of about five-and-forty, or--as the novels say-- he might be fifty. He had that dull-looking, boiled eye which is often to be seen in the heads of people who have applied themselves during many years to a weary and laborious course of study; and which would have been sufficient, without the additional eyeglass which dangled from a broad black riband round his neck, to warn a stranger that he was very near-sighted. His hair was thin and weak, which was partly attributable to his having never devoted much time to its arrangement, and partly to his having worn for five-and-twenty years the forensic wig which hung on a block beside him. The marks of hairpowder on his coat-collar, and the ill-washed and worse tied white neckerchief round his throat, showed that he had not found leisure since he left the court to make any alteration in his dress; while the slovenly style of the remainder of his costume warranted the inference that his personal appearance would not have been very much improved if he had. Books of practice, heaps of papers, and opened letters, were scattered over the table, without any attempt at order or arrangement; the furniture of the room was old and rickety; the doors of the book-case were rotting in their hinges; the dust flew out from the carpet in little clouds at every step; the blinds were yellow with age and dirt; the state of everything in the room showed, with a clearness not to be mistaken, that Mr. Serjeant Snubbin was far too much occupied with his professional pursuits to take any great heed or regard of his personal comforts. The Serjeant was writing when his clients entered; he bowed abstractedly when Mr. Pickwick was introduced by his solicitor; and then, motioning them to a seat, put his pen carefully in the inkstand, nursed his left leg, and waited to be spoken to. Mr. Pickwick is the defendant in Bardell and Pickwick, Serjeant Snubbin, said Perker. I am retained in that, am I? said the Serjeant. You are, Sir, replied Perker. The Serjeant nodded his head, and waited for something else. Mr. Pickwick was anxious to call upon you, Serjeant Snubbin, said Perker, to state to you, before you entered upon the case, that he denies there being any ground or pretence whatever for the action against him; and that unless he came into court with clean hands, and without the most conscientious conviction that he was right in resisting the plaintiffs demand, he would not be there at all. I believe I state your views correctly; do I not, my dear Sir? said the little man, turning to Mr. Pickwick. Quite so, replied that gentleman. Mr. Serjeant Snubbin unfolded his glasses, raised them to his eyes; and, after looking at Mr. Pickwick for a few seconds with great curiosity, turned to Mr. Perker, and said, smiling slightly as he spoke-- Has Mr. Pickwick a strong case? The attorney shrugged his shoulders. Do you propose calling witnesses? No. The smile on the Serjeants countenance became more defined; he rocked his leg

The Pickwick Papers page 208        The Pickwick Papers page 210