'I say,' said Sam, 'none o' that.'

'None o' wot?' inquired Mr. Weller.

'Wy, none o' them unconstitootional ways o' doin' it,' retortedSam. 'The have-his-carcass, next to the perpetual motion, is vunof the blessedest things as wos ever made. I've read that 'ere inthe newspapers wery of'en.'

'Well, wot's that got to do vith it?' inquired Mr. Weller.

'Just this here,' said Sam, 'that I'll patronise the inwention,and go in, that vay. No visperin's to the Chancellorship--I don'tlike the notion. It mayn't be altogether safe, vith reference togettin' out agin.'

Deferring to his son's feeling upon this point, Mr. Weller atonce sought the erudite Solomon Pell, and acquainted him withhis desire to issue a writ, instantly, for the SUM of twenty-fivepounds, and costs of process; to be executed without delay uponthe body of one Samuel Weller; the charges thereby incurred, tobe paid in advance to Solomon Pell.

The attorney was in high glee, for the embarrassed coach-horser was ordered to be discharged forthwith. He highlyapproved of Sam's attachment to his master; declared that itstrongly reminded him of his own feelings of devotion to hisfriend, the Chancellor; and at once led the elder Mr. Wellerdown to the Temple, to swear the affidavit of debt, which theboy, with the assistance of the blue bag, had drawn up on the spot.

Meanwhile, Sam, having been formally introduced to thewhitewashed 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 quietcharacter, usually; but the present instance was one of peculiarfestivity, and they relaxed in proportion. After some rathertumultuous toasting of the Chief Commissioner and Mr. SolomonPell, who had that day displayed such transcendent abilities, amottled-faced gentleman in a blue shawl proposed that somebodyshould 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 somewhatoffensively, declined to do. Upon which, as is not unusual in suchcases, a rather angry colloquy ensued.

'Gentlemen,' said the coach-horser, 'rather than disturb theharmony of this delightful occasion, perhaps Mr. Samuel Wellerwill oblige the company.'

'Raly, gentlemen,' said Sam, 'I'm not wery much in the habito' singin' without the instrument; but anythin' for a quiet life, asthe man said wen he took the sitivation at the lighthouse.'

With this prelude, Mr. Samuel Weller burst at once into thefollowing wild and beautiful legend, which, under the impressionthat it is not generally known, we take the liberty of quoting. Wewould beg to call particular attention to the monosyllable at theend of the second and fourth lines, which not only enables thesinger 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 see'd the Bishop's coachA-coming along the road-er.So he gallops close to the 'orse's legs,And he claps his head vithin;And the Bishop says, 'Sure as eggs is eggs,This here's the bold Turpin!'

CHORUS

And the Bishop says, 'Sure as eggs is eggs,This here's 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 song's personal to the cloth,' said themottled-faced gentleman, interrupting it at this point. 'I demandthe name o' that coachman.'

'Nobody know'd,' replied Sam. 'He hadn't 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 song's political; and, wot's much the same, that it ain't true.I say that that coachman did not run away; but that he diedgame--game as pheasants; and I won't hear nothin' said tothe contrairey.'

As the mottled-faced gentleman spoke with great energy anddetermination, and as the opinions of the company seemeddivided on the subject, it threatened to give rise to fresh altercation,when Mr. Weller and Mr. Pell most opportunely arrived.

'All right, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller.

'The officer will be here at four o'clock,' said Mr. Pell. 'Isuppose you won't run away meanwhile, eh? Ha! ha!'

'P'raps my cruel pa 'ull relent afore then,' replied Sam, with abroad grin.

'Not I,' said the elder Mr. Weller.

'Do,' said Sam.

'Not on no account,' replied the inexorable creditor.

'I'll give bills for the amount, at sixpence a month,' said Sam.

'I won't take 'em,' said Mr. Weller.

'Ha, ha, ha! very good, very good,' said Mr. SolomonPell, who was making out his little bill of costs; 'a veryamusing incident indeed! Benjamin, copy that.' And Mr.Pell smiled again, as he called Mr. Weller's attention to the amount.

'Thank you, thank you,' said the professional gentleman,taking up another of the greasy notes as Mr. Weller took it fromthe pocket-book. 'Three ten and one ten is five. Much obliged toyou, Mr. Weller. Your son is a most deserving young man, verymuch so indeed, Sir. It's a very pleasant trait in a young man'scharacter, very much so,' added Mr. Pell, smiling smoothlyround, as he buttoned up the money.

'Wot a game it is!' said the elder Mr. Weller, with a chuckle.'A reg'lar prodigy son!'

'Prodigal--prodigal son, Sir,' suggested Mr. Pell, mildly.

'Never mind, Sir,' said Mr. Weller, with dignity. 'I know wot'so'clock, Sir. Wen I don't, I'll ask you, Sir.'

By the time the officer arrived, Sam had made himself soextremely popular, that the congregated gentlemen determined tosee him to prison in a body. So off they set; the plaintiff anddefendant walking arm in arm, the officer in front, and eight stoutcoachmen bringing up the rear. At Serjeant's Inn Coffee-housethe whole party halted to refresh, and, the legal arrangementsbeing completed, the procession moved on again.

Some little commotion was occasioned in Fleet Street, by thepleasantry of the eight gentlemen in the flank, who persevered inwalking four abreast; it was also found necessary to leave themottled-faced gentleman behind, to fight a ticket-porter, it beingarranged that his friends should call for him as they came back.Nothing but these little incidents occurred on the way. When theyreached the gate of the Fleet, the cavalcade, taking the time fromthe plaintiff, gave three tremendous cheers for the defendant, and,after having shaken hands all round, left him.

Sam, having been formally delivered into the warder's custody,to the intense astonishment of Roker, and to the evident emotionof even the phlegmatic Neddy, passed at once into the prison,walked straight to his master's room, and knocked at the door.

'Come in,' said Mr. Pickwick.

Sam appeared, pulled off his hat, and smiled.

'Ah, Sam, my good lad!' said Mr. Pickwick, evidently delightedto see his humble friend again; 'I had no intention of hurting yourfeelings yesterday, my faithful fellow, by what I said. Put downyour hat, Sam, and let me explain my meaning, a little more at length.'

'Won't presently do, sir?' inquired Sam.

'Certainly,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'but why not now?'

'I'd rayther not now, sir,' rejoined Sam.

'Why?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

''Cause--' said Sam, hesitating.

'Because of what?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, alarmed at hisfollower's manner. 'Speak out, Sam.'

''Cause,' rejoined Sam--''cause I've got a little bisness as Iwant to do.'

'What business?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, surprised at Sam'sconfused manner.

'Nothin' partickler, Sir,' replied Sam.

'Oh, if it's nothing particular,' said Mr. Pickwick, with asmile, 'you can speak with me first.'

'I think I'd better see arter it at once,' said Sam, still hesitating.

Mr. Pickwick looked amazed, but said nothing.

'The fact is--' said Sam, stopping short.

'Well!' said Mr. Pickwick. 'Speak out, Sam.'

'Why, the fact is,' said Sam, with a desperate effort, 'perhapsI'd better see arter my bed afore I do anythin' else.'

'YOUR BED!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, in astonishment.

'Yes, my bed, Sir,' replied Sam, 'I'm a prisoner. I was arrestedthis here wery arternoon for debt.'

'You arrested for debt!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sinking intoa chair.

'Yes, for debt, Sir,' replied Sam. 'And the man as puts me in,'ull never let me out till you go yourself.'

'Bless my heart and soul!' ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. 'What doyou mean?'

'Wot I say, Sir,' rejoined Sam. 'If it's forty years to come, I shallbe a prisoner, and I'm very glad on it; and if it had been Newgate,it would ha' been just the same. Now the murder's out, and,damme, there's an end on it!'

With these words, which he repeated with great emphasis andviolence, Sam Weller dashed his hat upon the ground, in a mostunusual state of excitement; and then, folding his arms, lookedfirmly and fixedly in his master's face.

CHAPTER LXIVTREATS OF DIVERS LITTLE MATTERS WHICH OCCURREDIN THE FLEET, AND OF Mr. WINKLE'S MYSTERIOUSBEHAVIOUR; AND SHOWS HOW THE POOR CHANCERYPRISONER OBTAINED HIS RELEASE AT LAST

Mr. Pickwick felt a great deal too much touched by the warmth ofSam's attachment, to be able to exhibit any manifestation ofanger or displeasure at the precipitate course he had adopted, involuntarily consigning himself to a debtor's prison for anindefinite period. The only point on which he persevered indemanding an explanation, was, the name of Sam's detainingcreditor; but this Mr. Weller as perseveringly withheld.

'It ain't o' no use, sir,' said Sam, again and again; 'he's amalicious, bad-disposed, vorldly-minded, spiteful, windictive creetur,with a hard heart as there ain't no soft'nin', as the wirtuous clergymanremarked of the old gen'l'm'n with the dropsy, ven he said, thatupon the whole he thought he'd rayther leave his property to hisvife than build a chapel vith it.'

'But consider, Sam,' Mr. Pickwick remonstrated, 'the sum is sosmall that it can very easily be paid; and having made up Mymind that you shall stop with me, you should recollect how muchmore useful you would be, if you could go outside the walls.''Wery much obliged to you, sir,' replied Mr. Weller gravely;'but I'd rayther not.'

'Rather not do what, Sam?'

'Wy, I'd rayther not let myself down to ask a favour o' thishere unremorseful enemy.'

'But it is no favour asking him to take his money, Sam,'reasoned Mr. Pickwick.

'Beg your pardon, sir,' rejoined Sam, 'but it 'ud be a werygreat favour to pay it, and he don't deserve none; that's whereit is, sir.'

Here Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his nose with an air of somevexation, Mr. Weller thought it prudent to change the theme ofthe discourse.

'I takes my determination on principle, Sir,' remarked Sam,'and you takes yours on the same ground; wich puts me in mindo' the man as killed his-self on principle, wich o' course you'veheerd on, Sir.' Mr. Weller paused when he arrived at this point,and cast a comical look at his master out of the corners of his eyes.

'There is no "of course" in the case, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick,gradually breaking into a smile, in spite of the uneasiness whichSam's obstinacy had given him. 'The fame of the gentleman inquestion, never reached my ears.'

'No, sir!' exclaimed Mr. Weller. 'You astonish me, Sir; he wosa clerk in a gov'ment office, sir.'

'Was he?' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Yes, he wos, Sir,' rejoined Mr. Weller; 'and a wery pleasantgen'l'm'n too--one o' the precise and tidy sort, as puts their feetin little India-rubber fire-buckets wen it's wet weather, and neverhas no other bosom friends but hare-skins; he saved up hismoney on principle, wore a clean shirt ev'ry day on principle;never spoke to none of his relations on principle, 'fear theyshou'd want to borrow money of him; and wos altogether, infact, an uncommon agreeable character. He had his hair cut onprinciple vunce a fortnight, and contracted for his clothes on theeconomic principle--three suits a year, and send back the olduns. Being a wery reg'lar gen'l'm'n, he din'd ev'ry day at thesame place, where it was one-and-nine to cut off the joint, and awery good one-and-nine's worth he used to cut, as the landlordoften said, with the tears a-tricklin' down his face, let alone theway he used to poke the fire in the vinter time, which wos a deadloss o' four-pence ha'penny a day, to say nothin' at all o' theaggrawation o' seein' him do it. So uncommon grand with ittoo! "POST arter the next gen'l'm'n," he sings out ev'ry day venhe comes in. "See arter the TIMES, Thomas; let me look at theMORNIN' HERALD, when it's out o' hand; don't forget to bespeakthe CHRONICLE; and just bring the 'TIZER, vill you:" and then he'dset vith his eyes fixed on the clock, and rush out, just a quarterof a minit 'fore the time to waylay the boy as wos a-comin' inwith the evenin' paper, which he'd read with sich intense interestand persewerance as worked the other customers up to the weryconfines o' desperation and insanity, 'specially one i-rascible oldgen'l'm'n as the vaiter wos always obliged to keep a sharp eyeon, at sich times, fear he should be tempted to commit some rashact with the carving-knife. Vell, Sir, here he'd stop, occupyin' thebest place for three hours, and never takin' nothin' arter hisdinner, but sleep, and then he'd go away to a coffee-house a fewstreets off, and have a small pot o' coffee and four crumpets,arter wich he'd walk home to Kensington and go to bed. Onenight he wos took very ill; sends for a doctor; doctor comes in agreen fly, with a kind o' Robinson Crusoe set o' steps, as hecould let down wen he got out, and pull up arter him wen hegot in, to perwent the necessity o' the coachman's gettin' down,and thereby undeceivin' the public by lettin' 'em see that it wosonly a livery coat as he'd got on, and not the trousers to match."Wot's the matter?" says the doctor. "Wery ill," says the patient."Wot have you been a-eatin' on?" says the doctor. "Roastweal," says the patient. "Wot's the last thing you dewoured?"says the doctor. "Crumpets," says the patient. "That's it!" saysthe doctor. "I'll send you a box of pills directly, and don't younever take no more of 'em," he says. "No more o' wot?" saysthe patient--"pills?" "No; crumpets," says the doctor. "Wy?"says the patient, starting up in bed; "I've eat four crumpets,ev'ry night for fifteen year, on principle." "Well, then, you'dbetter leave 'em off, on principle," says the doctor. "Crumpets isNOT wholesome, Sir," says the doctor, wery fierce. "But they'reso cheap," says the patient, comin' down a little, "and so weryfillin' at the price." "They'd be dear to you, at any price; dear ifyou wos paid to eat 'em," says the doctor. "Four crumpets anight," he says, "vill do your business in six months!" The patientlooks him full in the face, and turns it over in his mind for a longtime, and at last he says, "Are you sure o' that 'ere, Sir?" "I'llstake my professional reputation on it," says the doctor. "Howmany crumpets, at a sittin', do you think 'ud kill me off at once?"says the patient. "I don't know," says the doctor. "Do you thinkhalf-a-crown's wurth 'ud do it?" says the patient. "I think itmight," says the doctor. "Three shillins' wurth 'ud be sure to doit, I s'pose?" says the patient. "Certainly," says the doctor."Wery good," says the patient; "good-night." Next mornin' hegets up, has a fire lit, orders in three shillins' wurth o' crumpets,toasts 'em all, eats 'em all, and blows his brains out.'

Title: The Pickwick Papers
Author: Charles Dickens
Viewed 230345 times

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