England -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Male friendship -- Fiction; Men -- Societies and clubs -- Fiction
‘His feelin’s is all wery well, Sir,’ replied Mr. Weller; ‘and as
they’re so wery fine, and it’s a pity he should lose ‘em, I think he’d
better keep ‘em in his own buzzum, than let ‘em ewaporate in hot water,
‘specially as they do no good. Tears never yet wound up a clock, or
worked a steam ingin’. The next time you go out to a smoking party,
young fellow, fill your pipe with that ‘ere reflection; and for the
present just put that bit of pink gingham into your pocket. ‘Tain’t so
handsome that you need keep waving it about, as if you was a tight-rope
dancer.’
‘My man is in the right,’ said Mr. Pickwick, accosting Job, ‘although
his mode of expressing his opinion is somewhat homely, and occasionally
incomprehensible.’
‘He is, sir, very right,’ said Mr. Trotter, ‘and I will give way no
longer.’
Very well,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Now, where is this boarding-school?’
‘It is a large, old, red brick house, just outside the town, Sir,’
replied Job Trotter.
‘And when,’ said Mr. Pickwick--‘when is this villainous design to be
carried into execution--when is this elopement to take place?’
‘To-night, Sir,’ replied Job.
‘To-night!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
‘This very night, sir,’ replied Job Trotter. ‘That is what alarms me so
much.’
‘Instant measures must be taken,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘I will see the
lady who keeps the establishment immediately.’
‘I beg your pardon, Sir,’ said Job, ‘but that course of proceeding will
never do.’
‘Why not?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.
‘My master, sir, is a very artful man.’
‘I know he is,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘And he has so wound himself round the old lady’s heart, Sir,’ resumed
Job, ‘that she would believe nothing to his prejudice, if you went down
on your bare knees, and swore it; especially as you have no proof but
the word of a servant, who, for anything she knows (and my master would
be sure to say so), was discharged for some fault, and does this in
revenge.’
‘What had better be done, then?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Nothing but taking him in the very act of eloping, will convince the
old lady, sir,’ replied Job.
‘All them old cats _will _run their heads agin milestones,’ observed Mr.
Weller, in a parenthesis.
‘But this taking him in the very act of elopement, would be a very
difficult thing to accomplish, I fear,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘I don’t know, sir,’ said Mr. Trotter, after a few moments’ reflection.
‘I think it might be very easily done.’
‘How?’ was Mr. Pickwick’s inquiry.
‘Why,’ replied Mr. Trotter, ‘my master and I, being in the confidence of
the two servants, will be secreted in the kitchen at ten o’clock. When
the family have retired to rest, we shall come out of the kitchen, and
the young lady out of her bedroom. A post-chaise will be waiting, and
away we go.’
‘Well?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Well, sir, I have been thinking that if you were in waiting in the
garden behind, alone--’
‘Alone,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Why alone?’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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