InLibrary.org

HOME | SEARCH | TOP | SITEMAP      

 
 


 

Charles Dickens >> The Pickwick Papers (page 113)


Having delivered this manifesto (which formed a portion of hislast week's leader) with vehement articulation, the editor pausedto take breath, and looked majestically at Bob Sawyer.

'You are a young man, sir,' said Pott.

Mr. Bob Sawyer nodded.

'So are you, sir,' said Pott, addressing Mr. Ben Allen.

Ben admitted the soft impeachment.

'And are both deeply imbued with those blue principles,which, so long as I live, I have pledged myself to the people ofthese kingdoms to support and to maintain?' suggested Pott.

'Why, I don't exactly know about that,' replied Bob Sawyer.'I am--'

'Not buff, Mr. Pickwick,' interrupted Pott, drawing back hischair, 'your friend is not buff, sir?'

'No, no,' rejoined Bob, 'I'm a kind of plaid at present; acompound of all sorts of colours.'

'A waverer,' said Pott solemnly, 'a waverer. I should like toshow you a series of eight articles, Sir, that have appeared in theEatanswill GAZETTE. I think I may venture to say that you wouldnot be long in establishing your opinions on a firm and solidblue basis, sir.''I dare say I should turn very blue, long before I got to the endof them,' responded Bob.

Mr. Pott looked dubiously at Bob Sawyer for some seconds,and, turning to Mr. Pickwick, said--

'You have seen the literary articles which have appeared atintervals in the Eatanswill GAZETTE in the course of the last threemonths, and which have excited such general--I may say suchuniversal--attention and admiration?'

'Why,' replied Mr. Pickwick, slightly embarrassed by thequestion, 'the fact is, I have been so much engaged in other ways,that I really have not had an opportunity of perusing them.'

'You should do so, Sir,' said Pott, with a severe countenance.

'I will,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'They appeared in the form of a copious review of a work onChinese metaphysics, Sir,' said Pott.

'Oh,' observed Mr. Pickwick; 'from your pen, I hope?'

'From the pen of my critic, Sir,' rejoined Pott, with dignity.

'An abstruse subject, I should conceive,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Very, Sir,' responded Pott, looking intensely sage. 'HeCRAMMED for it, to use a technical but expressive term; he read upfor the subject, at my desire, in the "Encyclopaedia Britannica." '

'Indeed!' said Mr. Pickwick; 'I was not aware that thatvaluable work contained any information respecting Chinesemetaphysics.'

'He read, Sir,' rejoined Pott, laying his hand on Mr. Pickwick'sknee, and looking round with a smile of intellectual superiority--'he read for metaphysics under the letter M, and for Chinaunder the letter C, and combined his information, Sir!'

Mr. Pott's features assumed so much additional grandeur atthe recollection of the power and research displayed in thelearned effusions in question, that some minutes elapsed beforeMr. Pickwick felt emboldened to renew the conversation; atlength, as the editor's countenance gradually relaxed into itscustomary expression of moral supremacy, he ventured toresume the discourse by asking--

'Is it fair to inquire what great object has brought you so farfrom home?'

'That object which actuates and animates me in all my giganticlabours, Sir,' replied Pott, with a calm smile: 'my country's good.''I supposed it was some public mission,' observed Mr. Pickwick.

'Yes, Sir,' resumed Pott, 'it is.' Here, bending towards Mr.Pickwick, he whispered in a deep, hollow voice, 'A Buff ball, Sir,will take place in Birmingham to-morrow evening.'

'God bless me!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

'Yes, Sir, and supper,' added Pott.

'You don't say so!' ejaculated Mr. Pickwick.

Pott nodded portentously.

Now, although Mr. Pickwick feigned to stand aghast at thisdisclosure, he was so little versed in local politics that he wasunable to form an adequate comprehension of the importance ofthe dire conspiracy it referred to; observing which, Mr. Pott,drawing forth the last number of the Eatanswill GAZETTE, andreferring to the same, delivered himself of the following paragraph:--

HOLE-AND-CORNER BUFFERY.

'A reptile contemporary has recently sweltered forth his blackvenom in the vain and hopeless attempt of sullying the fair nameof our distinguished and excellent representative, the HonourableMr. Slumkey--that Slumkey whom we, long before he gainedhis present noble and exalted position, predicted would one daybe, as he now is, at once his country's brightest honour, and herproudest boast: alike her bold defender and her honest pride--our reptile contemporary, we say, has made himself merry, at theexpense of a superbly embossed plated coal-scuttle, which hasbeen presented to that glorious man by his enrapturedconstituents, and towards the purchase of which, the namelesswretch insinuates, the Honourable Mr. Slumkey himselfcontributed, through a confidential friend of his butler's, more thanthree-fourths of the whole sum subscribed. Why, does not thecrawling creature see, that even if this be the fact, the HonourableMr. Slumkey only appears in a still more amiable and radiantlight than before, if that be possible? Does not even his obtusenessperceive that this amiable and touching desire to carry outthe wishes of the constituent body, must for ever endear him tothe hearts and souls of such of his fellow townsmen as are notworse than swine; or, in other words, who are not as debased asour contemporary himself? But such is the wretched trickery ofhole-and-corner Buffery! These are not its only artifices. Treasonis abroad. We boldly state, now that we are goaded to thedisclosure, and we throw ourselves on the country and its constablesfor protection--we boldly state that secret preparations are atthis moment in progress for a Buff ball; which is to be held in aBuff town, in the very heart and centre of a Buff population;which is to be conducted by a Buff master of the ceremonies;which is to be attended by four ultra Buff members of Parliament,and the admission to which, is to be by Buff tickets! Does ourfiendish contemporary wince? Let him writhe, in impotentmalice, as we pen the words, WE WILL BE THERE.'

'There, Sir,' said Pott, folding up the paper quite exhausted, 'thatis the state of the case!'

The landlord and waiter entering at the moment with dinner,caused Mr. Pott to lay his finger on his lips, in token that heconsidered his life in Mr. Pickwick's hands, and depended on hissecrecy. Messrs. Bob Sawyer and Benjamin Allen, who hadirreverently fallen asleep during the reading of the quotationfrom the Eatanswill GAZETTE, and the discussion which followedit, were roused by the mere whispering of the talismanic word'Dinner' in their ears; and to dinner they went with gooddigestion waiting on appetite, and health on both, and a waiteron all three.

In the course of the dinner and the sitting which succeeded it,Mr. Pott descending, for a few moments, to domestic topics,informed Mr. Pickwick that the air of Eatanswill not agreeingwith his lady, she was then engaged in making a tour of differentfashionable watering-places with a view to the recovery of herwonted health and spirits; this was a delicate veiling of the factthat Mrs. Pott, acting upon her often-repeated threat of separation,had, in virtue of an arrangement negotiated by her brother,the lieutenant, and concluded by Mr. Pott, permanently retiredwith the faithful bodyguard upon one moiety or half part of theannual income and profits arising from the editorship and sale ofthe Eatanswill GAZETTE.

While the great Mr. Pott was dwelling upon this and othermatters, enlivening the conversation from time to time withvarious extracts from his own lucubrations, a stern stranger,calling from the window of a stage-coach, outward bound,which halted at the inn to deliver packages, requested to knowwhether if he stopped short on his journey and remained therefor the night, he could be furnished with the necessary accommodationof a bed and bedstead.

'Certainly, sir,' replied the landlord.

'I can, can I?' inquired the stranger, who seemed habituallysuspicious in look and manner.

'No doubt of it, Sir,' replied the landlord.

'Good,' said the stranger. 'Coachman, I get down here.Guard, my carpet-bag!'

Bidding the other passengers good-night, in a rather snappishmanner, the stranger alighted. He was a shortish gentleman, withvery stiff black hair cut in the porcupine or blacking-brush style,and standing stiff and straight all over his head; his aspect waspompous and threatening; his manner was peremptory; his eyeswere sharp and restless; and his whole bearing bespoke a feelingof great confidence in himself, and a consciousness of immeasurablesuperiority over all other people.

This gentleman was shown into the room originally assignedto the patriotic Mr. Pott; and the waiter remarked, in dumbastonishment at the singular coincidence, that he had no soonerlighted the candles than the gentleman, diving into his hat, drewforth a newspaper, and began to read it with the very sameexpression of indignant scorn, which, upon the majestic featuresof Pott, had paralysed his energies an hour before. The manobserved too, that, whereas Mr. Pott's scorn had been roused bya newspaper headed the Eatanswill INDEPENDENT, this gentleman'swithering contempt was awakened by a newspaper entitled theEatanswill GAZETTE.

'Send the landlord,' said the stranger.

'Yes, sir,' rejoined the waiter.

The landlord was sent, and came.

'Are you the landlord?' inquired the gentleman.

'I am sir,' replied the landlord.

'My name is Slurk,' said the gentleman.

The landlord slightly inclined his head.

'Slurk, sir,' repeated the gentleman haughtily. 'Do you knowme now, man?'

The landlord scratched his head, looked at the ceiling, and atthe stranger, and smiled feebly.

'Do you know me, man?' inquired the stranger angrily.

The landlord made a strong effort, and at length replied,

'Well, Sir, I do not know you.'

'Great Heaven!' said the stranger, dashing his clenched fistupon the table. 'And this is popularity!'

The landlord took a step or two towards the door; the strangerfixing his eyes upon him, resumed.

'This,' said the stranger--'this is gratitude for years of labourand study in behalf of the masses. I alight wet and weary; noenthusiastic crowds press forward to greet their champion; thechurch bells are silent; the very name elicits no responsivefeeling in their torpid bosoms. It is enough,' said the agitatedMr. Slurk, pacing to and fro, 'to curdle the ink in one's pen, andinduce 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 yougot a fire anywhere?'

'We can light one directly, Sir,' said the landlord.

'Which will throw out no heat until it is bed-time,' interruptedMr. 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 thekitchen fire.' So, gathering up his hat and newspaper, he stalkedsolemnly behind the landlord to that humble apartment,and throwing himself on a settle by the fireside, resumed hiscountenance of scorn, and began to read and drink in silent dignity.

Now, some demon of discord, flying over the Saracen'sHead at that moment, on casting down his eyes in mere idlecuriosity, happened to behold Slurk established comfortablyby the kitchen fire, and Pott slightly elevated with winein another room; upon which the malicious demon, dartingdown into the last-mentioned apartment with inconceivablerapidity, passed at once into the head of Mr. Bob Sawyer, andprompted him for his (the demon's) own evil purpose to speakas follows:--

'I say, we've let the fire out. It's uncommonly cold after therain, isn't it?'

'It really is,' replied Mr. Pickwick, shivering.

'It wouldn't 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, eachwith his glass in his hand, at once betook themselves to thekitchen, with Sam Weller heading the procession to show themthe way.

The stranger was still reading; he looked up and started.Mr. Pott started.

'What's the matter?' whispered Mr. Pickwick.

'That reptile!' replied Pott.

'What reptile?' said Mr. Pickwick, looking about him for fearhe should tread on some overgrown black beetle, or dropsical spider.

'That reptile,' whispered Pott, catching Mr. Pickwick by thearm, and pointing towards the stranger. 'That reptile Slurk, ofthe 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 anopposite 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, ofcourse, read the GAZETTE; and each gentleman audibly expressedhis contempt at the other's compositions by bitter laughs andsarcastic sniffs; whence they proceeded to more open expressionsof opinion, such as 'absurd,' 'wretched,' 'atrocity,' 'humbug,''knavery', 'dirt,' 'filth,' 'slime,' 'ditch-water,' and other criticalremarks of the like nature.

Both Mr. Bob Sawyer and Mr. Ben Allen had beheld thesesymptoms of rivalry and hatred, with a degree of delight whichimparted great additional relish to the cigars at which they werepuffing most vigorously. The moment they began to flag, themischievous Mr. Bob Sawyer, addressing Slurk with greatpoliteness, said--

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
Viewed 230524 times

...
...93949596979899100101102103104105106107108109110111112113114115116117118119120121122123124125...


 
              
Page generation 0.001 seconds