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labour
and study in behalf of the masses. I alight wet and weary; no
enthusiastic crowds press forward to greet their champion; the
church bells are silent; the very name elicits no responsive
feeling in their torpid bosoms. It is enough, said the agitated
Mr. Slurk, pacing to and fro, to curdle the ink in ones pen, and
induce one to abandon their cause for ever.
Did you say brandy-and-water, Sir? said the landlord,
venturing a hint.
Rum, said Mr. Slurk, turning fiercely upon him. Have you
got a fire anywhere?
We can light one directly, Sir, said the landlord.
Which will throw out no heat until it is bed-time, interrupted
Mr. Slurk. Is there anybody in the kitchen?
Not a soul. There was a beautiful fire. Everybody had gone,
and the house door was closed for the night.
I will drink my rum-and-water, said Mr. Slurk, by the
kitchen fire. So, gathering up his hat and newspaper, he stalked
solemnly behind the landlord to that humble apartment,
and throwing himself on a settle by the fireside, resumed his
countenance of scorn, and began to read and drink in silent dignity.
Now, some demon of discord, flying over the Saracens
Head at that moment, on casting down his eyes in mere idle
curiosity, happened to behold Slurk established comfortably
by the kitchen fire, and Pott slightly elevated with wine
in another room; upon which the malicious demon, darting
down into the last-mentioned apartment with inconceivable
rapidity, passed at once into the head of Mr. Bob Sawyer, and
prompted him for his (the demons) own evil purpose to speak
as follows:--
I say, weve let the fire out. Its uncommonly cold after the
rain, isnt it?
It really is, replied Mr. Pickwick, shivering.
It wouldnt be a bad notion to have a cigar by the kitchen fire,
would it? said Bob Sawyer, still prompted by the demon aforesaid.
It would be particularly comfortable, I think, replied Mr.
Pickwick. Mr. Pott, what do you say?
Mr. Pott yielded a ready assent; and all four travellers, each
with his glass in his hand, at once betook themselves to the
kitchen, with Sam Weller heading the procession to show them
the way.
The stranger was still reading; he looked up and started.
Mr. Pott started.
Whats the matter? whispered Mr. Pickwick.
That reptile! replied Pott.
What reptile? said Mr. Pickwick, looking about him for fear
he should tread on some overgrown black beetle, or dropsical spider.
That reptile, whispered Pott, catching Mr. Pickwick by the
arm, and pointing towards the stranger. That reptile Slurk, of
the INDEPENDENT!
Perhaps we had better retire, whispered Mr. Pickwick.
Never, Sir, rejoined Pott, pot-valiant in a double sense--
never. With these words, Mr. Pott took up his position on an
opposite settle, and selecting one from a little bundle of newspapers,
began to read against his enemy.
Mr. Pott, of course read the INDEPENDENT, and Mr. Slurk, of
course, read the GAZETTE; and each gentleman audibly expressed
his contempt at the others compositions by bitter laughs and
sarcastic sniffs; whence they proceeded to more open expressions
of opinion, such as absurd, wretched, atrocity, humbug,
knavery, dirt, filth, slime, ditch-water, and other critical
remarks of the like nature.
Both Mr. Bob Sawyer and Mr. Ben Allen had beheld these
symptoms of rivalry and hatred, with a degree of delight which
imparted great additional relish to the cigars at which they were
puffing most vigorously. The moment they began to flag, the
mischievous Mr. Bob Sawyer, addressing Slurk with great
politeness, said--
Will you allow me to look at your paper, Sir, when you have
quite done with it?
You will find very little to repay you for your trouble in this
contemptible THING, sir, replied Slurk, bestowing a Satanic frown
on Pott.
You shall have this presently, said Pott, looking up, pale
with rage, and quivering in his speech, from the same cause.
Ha! ha! you will be amused with this FELLOWS audacity.
Terrible emphasis was laid upon thing and fellow; and the
faces of both editors began to glow with defiance.
The ribaldry of this miserable man is despicably disgusting,
said Pott, pretending to address Bob Sawyer, and scowling upon Slurk.
Here, Mr. Slurk laughed very heartily, and folding up the
paper so as to get at a fresh column conveniently, said, that the
blockhead really amused him.
What an impudent blunderer this fellow is, said Pott, turning
from pink to crimson.
Did you ever read any of this mans foolery, Sir? inquired
Slurk of Bob Sawyer.
Never, replied Bob; is it very bad?
Oh, shocking! shocking! rejoined Slurk.
Really! Dear me, this is The Pickwick Papers page 355 The Pickwick Papers page 357 |