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The Pickwick Papers 299

Elisha Cuthbert Photos


Martin Eden

The Pickwick Papers

The Sea Wolf

vun of the blessedest things as wos ever made. Ive read that ere in the newspapers wery ofen. Well, wots that got to do vith it? inquired Mr. Weller. Just this here, said Sam, that Ill patronise the inwention, and go in, that vay. No visperins to the Chancellorship--I dont like the notion. It maynt be altogether safe, vith reference to gettin out agin. Deferring to his sons feeling upon this point, Mr. Weller at once sought the erudite Solomon Pell, and acquainted him with his desire to issue a writ, instantly, for the SUM of twenty-five pounds, and costs of process; to be executed without delay upon the body of one Samuel Weller; the charges thereby incurred, to be paid in advance to Solomon Pell. The attorney was in high glee, for the embarrassed coach- horser was ordered to be discharged forthwith. He highly approved of Sams attachment to his master; declared that it strongly reminded him of his own feelings of devotion to his friend, the Chancellor; and at once led the elder Mr. Weller down to the Temple, to swear the affidavit of debt, which the boy, with the assistance of the blue bag, had drawn up on the spot. Meanwhile, Sam, having been formally introduced to the whitewashed gentleman and his friends, as the offspring of Mr. Weller, of the Belle Savage, was treated with marked distinction, and invited to regale himself with them in honour of the occasion --an invitation which he was by no means backward in accepting. The mirth of gentlemen of this class is of a grave and quiet character, usually; but the present instance was one of peculiar festivity, and they relaxed in proportion. After some rather tumultuous toasting of the Chief Commissioner and Mr. Solomon Pell, who had that day displayed such transcendent abilities, a mottled-faced gentleman in a blue shawl proposed that somebody should sing a song. The obvious suggestion was, that the mottled- faced gentleman, being anxious for a song, should sing it himself; but this the mottled-faced gentleman sturdily, and somewhat offensively, declined to do. Upon which, as is not unusual in such cases, a rather angry colloquy ensued. Gentlemen, said the coach-horser, rather than disturb the harmony of this delightful occasion, perhaps Mr. Samuel Weller will oblige the company. Raly, gentlemen, said Sam, Im not wery much in the habit o singin without the instrument; but anythin for a quiet life, as the man said wen he took the sitivation at the lighthouse. With this prelude, Mr. Samuel Weller burst at once into the following wild and beautiful legend, which, under the impression that it is not generally known, we take the liberty of quoting. We would beg to call particular attention to the monosyllable at the end of the second and fourth lines, which not only enables the singer to take breath at those points, but greatly assists the metre. ROMANCE I Bold Turpin vunce, on Hounslow Heath, His bold mare Bess bestrode-er; Ven there he seed the Bishops coach A-coming along the road-er. So he gallops close to the orses legs, And he claps his head vithin; And the Bishop says, Sure as eggs is eggs, This heres the bold Turpin! CHORUS And the Bishop says, Sure as eggs is eggs, This heres the bold Turpin! II Says Turpin, You shall eat your words, With a sarse of leaden bul-let; So he puts a pistol to his mouth, And he fires it down his gul-let. The coachman he not likin the job, Set off at full gal-lop, But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob, And perwailed on him to stop. CHORUS (sarcastically) But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob, And perwailed on him to stop. I maintain that that ere songs personal to the cloth, said the mottled-faced gentleman, interrupting it at this point. I demand the name o that coachman. Nobody knowd, replied Sam. He hadnt got his card in his pocket. I object to the introduction o politics, said the mottled- faced gentleman. I submit that, in the present company, that ere songs political; and, wots much the same, that it aint true. I say that that coachman did not run away; but that he died game--game as pheasants; and I wont hear nothin said to the contrairey. As the mottled-faced gentleman spoke with great energy and determination, and as the opinions of the company seemed divided

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