Nothing worthy of special mention occurred during thejourney. Mr. Dowler related a variety of anecdotes, all illustrativeof his own personal prowess and desperation, and appealed toMrs. Dowler in corroboration thereof; when Mrs. Dowlerinvariably brought in, in the form of an appendix, some remarkablefact or circumstance which Mr. Dowler had forgotten, orhad perhaps through modesty, omitted; for the addenda in everyinstance went to show that Mr. Dowler was even a more wonderfulfellow than he made himself out to be. Mr. Pickwick andMr. Winkle listened with great admiration, and at intervalsconversed with Mrs. Dowler, who was a very agreeable andfascinating person. So, what between Mr. Dowler's stories, andMrs. Dowler's charms, and Mr. Pickwick's good-humour, andMr. Winkle's good listening, the insides contrived to be verycompanionable all the way.The outsides did as outsides always do. They were very cheerfuland talkative at the beginning of every stage, and very dismal andsleepy in the middle, and very bright and wakeful again towardsthe end. There was one young gentleman in an India-rubbercloak, who smoked cigars all day; and there was another younggentleman in a parody upon a greatcoat, who lighted a good many,and feeling obviously unsettled after the second whiff, threw themaway when he thought nobody was looking at him. There was athird young man on the box who wished to be learned in cattle;and an old one behind, who was familiar with farming. Therewas a constant succession of Christian names in smock-frocksand white coats, who were invited to have a 'lift' by the guard,and who knew every horse and hostler on the road and off it;and there was a dinner which would have been cheap at half-a-crown a mouth, if any moderate number of mouths could haveeaten it in the time. And at seven o'clock P.m. Mr. Pickwick andhis friends, and Mr. Dowler and his wife, respectively retired totheir private sitting-rooms at the White Hart Hotel, opposite theGreat Pump Room, Bath, where the waiters, from their costume,might be mistaken for Westminster boys, only they destroy theillusion by behaving themselves much better.Breakfast had scarcely been cleared away on the succeedingmorning, when a waiter brought in Mr. Dowler's card, with arequest to be allowed permission to introduce a friend. Mr.Dowler at once followed up the delivery of the card, by bringinghimself and the friend also.

The friend was a charming young man of not much more thanfifty, dressed in a very bright blue coat with resplendent buttons,black trousers, and the thinnest possible pair of highly-polishedboots. A gold eye-glass was suspended from his neck by a short,broad, black ribbon; a gold snuff-box was lightly clasped in hisleft hand; gold rings innumerable glittered on his fingers; anda large diamond pin set in gold glistened in his shirt frill. Hehad a gold watch, and a gold curb chain with large gold seals;and he carried a pliant ebony cane with a gold top. His linen wasof the very whitest, finest, and stiffest; his wig of the glossiest,blackest, and curliest. His snuff was princes' mixture; his scentBOUQUET DU ROI. His features were contracted into a perpetualsmile; and his teeth were in such perfect order that it was difficultat a small distance to tell the real from the false.

'Mr. Pickwick,' said Mr. Dowler; 'my friend, Angelo CyrusBantam, Esquire, M.C.; Bantam; Mr. Pickwick. Know each other.'

'Welcome to Ba-ath, Sir. This is indeed an acquisition. Mostwelcome to Ba-ath, sir. It is long--very long, Mr. Pickwick,since you drank the waters. It appears an age, Mr. Pickwick.Re-markable!'

Such were the expressions with which Angelo Cyrus Bantam,Esquire, M.C., took Mr. Pickwick's hand; retaining it in his,meantime, and shrugging up his shoulders with a constantsuccession of bows, as if he really could not make up his mind tothe trial of letting it go again.

'It is a very long time since I drank the waters, certainly,'replied Mr. Pickwick; 'for, to the best of my knowledge, I wasnever here before.'

'Never in Ba-ath, Mr. Pickwick!' exclaimed the GrandMaster, letting the hand fall in astonishment. 'Never in Ba-ath!He! he! Mr. Pickwick, you are a wag. Not bad, not bad. Good,good. He! he! he! Re-markable!'

'To my shame, I must say that I am perfectly serious,' rejoinedMr. Pickwick. 'I really never was here before.'

'Oh, I see,' exclaimed the Grand Master, looking extremelypleased; 'yes, yes--good, good--better and better. You are thegentleman of whom we have heard. Yes; we know you, Mr.Pickwick; we know you.'

'The reports of the trial in those confounded papers,' thoughtMr. Pickwick. 'They have heard all about me.''You are the gentleman residing on Clapham Green,' resumedBantam, 'who lost the use of his limbs from imprudently takingcold after port wine; who could not be moved in consequence ofacute suffering, and who had the water from the king's bathbottled at one hundred and three degrees, and sent by wagon tohis bedroom in town, where he bathed, sneezed, and the same dayrecovered. Very remarkable!'

Mr. Pickwick acknowledged the compliment which the suppositionimplied, but had the self-denial to repudiate it, notwithstanding;and taking advantage of a moment's silence on the partof the M.C., begged to introduce his friends, Mr. Tupman,Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass. An introduction which overwhelmedthe M.C. with delight and honour.

'Bantam,' said Mr. Dowler, 'Mr. Pickwick and his friends arestrangers. They must put their names down. Where's the book?'

'The register of the distinguished visitors in Ba-ath will be atthe Pump Room this morning at two o'clock,' replied the M.C.'Will you guide our friends to that splendid building, and enableme to procure their autographs?'

'I will,' rejoined Dowler. 'This is a long call. It's time to go. Ishall be here again in an hour. Come.'

'This is a ball-night,' said the M.C., again taking Mr. Pickwick'shand, as he rose to go. 'The ball-nights in Ba-ath are momentssnatched from paradise; rendered bewitching by music, beauty,elegance, fashion, etiquette, and--and--above all, by the absenceof tradespeople, who are quite inconsistent with paradise, andwho have an amalgamation of themselves at the Guildhall everyfortnight, which is, to say the least, remarkable. Good-bye,good-bye!' and protesting all the way downstairs that he wasmost satisfied, and most delighted, and most overpowered,and most flattered, Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, M.C.,stepped into a very elegant chariot that waited at the door, andrattled off.

At the appointed hour, Mr. Pickwick and his friends, escortedby Dowler, repaired to the Assembly Rooms, and wrote theirnames down in the book--an instance of condescension at whichAngelo Bantam was even more overpowered than before. Ticketsof admission to that evening's assembly were to have beenprepared for the whole party, but as they were not ready, Mr.Pickwick undertook, despite all the protestations to the contraryof Angelo Bantam, to send Sam for them at four o'clock inthe afternoon, to the M.C.'s house in Queen Square. Havingtaken a short walk through the city, and arrived at the unanimousconclusion that Park Street was very much like theperpendicular streets a man sees in a dream, which he cannotget up for the life of him, they returned to the White Hart, anddespatched Sam on the errand to which his master had pledged him.

Sam Weller put on his hat in a very easy and graceful manner,and, thrusting his hands in his waistcoat pockets, walked withgreat deliberation to Queen Square, whistling as he went along,several of the most popular airs of the day, as arranged withentirely new movements for that noble instrument the organ,either mouth or barrel. Arriving at the number in Queen Squareto which he had been directed, he left off whistling and gave acheerful knock, which was instantaneously answered by apowdered-headed footman in gorgeous livery, and of symmetricalstature.

'is this here Mr. Bantam's, old feller?' inquired Sam Weller,nothing abashed by the blaze of splendour which burst upon hissight in the person of the powdered-headed footman with thegorgeous livery.

'Why, young man?' was the haughty inquiry of the powdered-headed footman.

''Cos if it is, jist you step in to him with that 'ere card, and sayMr. Veller's a-waitin', will you?' said Sam. And saying it, he verycoolly walked into the hall, and sat down.

The powdered-headed footman slammed the door very hard,and scowled very grandly; but both the slam and the scowl werelost upon Sam, who was regarding a mahogany umbrella-standwith every outward token of critical approval.

Apparently his master's reception of the card had impressedthe powdered-headed footman in Sam's favour, for when hecame back from delivering it, he smiled in a friendly manner, andsaid that the answer would be ready directly.

'Wery good,' said Sam. 'Tell the old gen'l'm'n not to puthimself in a perspiration. No hurry, six-foot. I've had my dinner.'

'You dine early, sir,' said the powdered-headed footman.

'I find I gets on better at supper when I does,' replied Sam.

'Have you been long in Bath, sir?' inquired the powdered-headed footman. 'I have not had the pleasure of hearing of you before.'

'I haven't created any wery surprisin' sensation here, as yet,'rejoined Sam, 'for me and the other fash'nables only come last night.'

'Nice place, Sir,' said the powdered-headed footman.

'Seems so,' observed Sam.

'Pleasant society, sir,' remarked the powdered-headed footman.'Very agreeable servants, sir.'

'I should think they wos,' replied Sam. 'Affable, unaffected,say-nothin'-to-nobody sorts o' fellers.'

'Oh, very much so, indeed, sir,' said the powdered-headedfootman, taking Sam's remarks as a high compliment. 'Verymuch so indeed. Do you do anything in this way, Sir?' inquiredthe tall footman, producing a small snuff-box with a fox's headon the top of it.

'Not without sneezing,' replied Sam.

'Why, it IS difficult, sir, I confess,' said the tall footman. 'Itmay be done by degrees, Sir. Coffee is the best practice. I carriedcoffee, Sir, for a long time. It looks very like rappee, sir.'

Here, a sharp peal at the bell reduced the powdered-headedfootman to the ignominious necessity of putting the fox's headin his pocket, and hastening with a humble countenance toMr. Bantam's 'study.' By the bye, who ever knew a man whonever read or wrote either, who hadn't got some small backparlour which he WOULD call a study!

'There is the answer, sir,' said the powdered-headed footman.'I'm afraid you'll find it inconveniently large.'

'Don't mention it,' said Sam, taking a letter with a smallenclosure. 'It's just possible as exhausted natur' may manage tosurwive it.'

'I hope we shall meet again, Sir,' said the powdered-headedfootman, rubbing his hands, and following Sam out to the door-step.

'You are wery obligin', sir,' replied Sam. 'Now, don't allowyourself to be fatigued beyond your powers; there's a amiablebein'. Consider what you owe to society, and don't let yourself beinjured by too much work. For the sake o' your feller-creeturs,keep yourself as quiet as you can; only think what a loss youwould be!' With these pathetic words, Sam Weller departed.

'A very singular young man that,' said the powdered-headedfootman, looking after Mr. Weller, with a countenance whichclearly showed he could make nothing of him.

Sam said nothing at all. He winked, shook his head, smiled,winked again; and, with an expression of countenance whichseemed to denote that he was greatly amused with something orother, walked merrily away.

At precisely twenty minutes before eight o'clock that night,Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esq., the Master of the Ceremonies,emerged from his chariot at the door of the Assembly Rooms inthe same wig, the same teeth, the same eye-glass, the same watchand seals, the same rings, the same shirt-pin, and the same cane.The only observable alterations in his appearance were, that hewore a brighter blue coat, with a white silk lining, black tights,black silk stockings, and pumps, and a white waistcoat, and was,if possible, just a thought more scented.

Thus attired, the Master of the Ceremonies, in strict dischargeof the important duties of his all-important office, plantedhimself in the room to receive the company.

Bath being full, the company, and the sixpences for tea,poured in, in shoals. In the ballroom, the long card-room, theoctagonal card-room, the staircases, and the passages, the humof many voices, and the sound of many feet, were perfectlybewildering. Dresses rustled, feathers waved, lights shone, andjewels sparkled. There was the music--not of the quadrille band,for it had not yet commenced; but the music of soft, tiny footsteps,with now and then a clear, merry laugh--low and gentle,but very pleasant to hear in a female voice, whether in Bath orelsewhere. Brilliant eyes, lighted up with pleasurable expectation,gleamed from every side; and, look where you would, someexquisite form glided gracefully through the throng, and was nosooner lost, than it was replaced by another as dainty and bewitching.

In the tea-room, and hovering round the card-tables, were avast number of queer old ladies, and decrepit old gentlemen,discussing all the small talk and scandal of the day, with a relishand gusto which sufficiently bespoke the intensity of the pleasurethey derived from the occupation. Mingled with these groups,were three or four match-making mammas, appearing to bewholly absorbed by the conversation in which they were takingpart, but failing not from time to time to cast an anxious sidelongglance upon their daughters, who, remembering the maternalinjunction to make the best use of their youth, had alreadycommenced incipient flirtations in the mislaying scarves, puttingon gloves, setting down cups, and so forth; slight matters apparently,but which may be turned to surprisingly good account byexpert practitioners.

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
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