A PLEASANT DAY WITH ANUNPLEASANT TERMINATIONhe birds, who, happily for their own peace of mind andpersonal comfort, were in blissful ignorance of thepreparations which had been making to astonish them, onthe first of September, hailed it, no doubt, as one of thepleasantest mornings they had seen that season. Many a youngpartridge who strutted1 complacently2 among the stubble, with allthe finicking coxcombry3 of youth, and many an older one whowatched his levity4 out of his little round eye, with thecontemptuous air of a bird of wisdom and experience, alikeunconscious of their approaching doom5, basked6 in the freshmorning air with lively and blithesome7 feelings, and a few hoursafterwards were laid low upon the earth. But we grow affecting:
let us proceed.
In plain commonplace matter-of-fact, then, it was a finemorning―so fine that you would scarcely have believed that thefew months of an English summer had yet flown by. Hedges,fields, and trees, hill and moorland, presented to the eye theirever-varying shades of deep rich green; scarce a leaf had fallen,scarce a sprinkle of yellow mingled8 with the hues9 of summer,warned you that autumn had begun. The sky was cloudless; thesun shone out bright and warm; the songs of birds, the hum ofmyriads of summer insects, filled the air; and the cottage gardens,crowded with flowers of every rich and beautiful tint10, sparkled, inthe heavy dew, like beds of glittering jewels. Everything bore thestamp of summer, and none of its beautiful colour had yet fadedfrom the die.
Such was the morning, when an open carriage, in which werethree Pickwickians (Mr. Snodgrass having preferred to remain athome), Mr. Wardle, and Mr. Trundle, with Sam Weller on the boxbeside the driver, pulled up by a gate at the roadside, before whichstood a tall, raw-boned gamekeeper, and a half-booted, leather-legginged boy, each bearing a bag of capacious dimensions, andaccompanied by a brace11 of pointers.
‘I say,’ whispered Mr. Winkle to Wardle, as the man let downthe steps, ‘they don’t suppose we’re going to kill game enough tofill those bags, do they?’
‘Fill them!’ exclaimed old Wardle. ‘Bless you, yes! You shall fillone, and I the other; and when we’ve done with them, the pocketsof our shooting-jackets will hold as much more.’
Mr. Winkle dismounted without saying anything in reply to thisobservation; but he thought within himself, that if the partyremained in the open air, till he had filled one of the bags, theystood a considerable chance of catching12 colds in their heads.
‘Hi, Juno, lass-hi, old girl; down, Daph, down,’ said Wardle,caressing the dogs. ‘Sir Geoffrey still in Scotland, of course,Martin?’
The tall gamekeeper replied in the affirmative, and looked withsome surprise from Mr. Winkle, who was holding his gun as if hewished his coat pocket to save him the trouble of pulling thetrigger, to Mr. Tupman, who was holding his as if he was afraid ofit―as there is no earthly reason to doubt he really was.
‘My friends are not much in the way of this sort of thing yet,Martin,’ said Wardle, noticing the look. ‘Live and learn, you know.
They’ll be good shots one of these days. I beg my friend Winkle’spardon, though; he has had some practice.’
Mr. Winkle smiled feebly over his blue neckerchief inacknowledgment of the compliment, and got himself somysteriously entangled13 with his gun, in his modest confusion, thatif the piece had been loaded, he must inevitably14 have shot himselfdead upon the spot.
‘You mustn’t handle your piece in that ’ere way, when you cometo have the charge in it, sir,’ said the tall gamekeeper gruffly; ‘orI’m damned if you won’t make cold meat of some on us.’
Mr. Winkle, thus admonished15, abruptly16 altered his position, andin so doing, contrived17 to bring the barrel into pretty smart contactwith Mr. Weller’s head.
‘Hollo!’ said Sam, picking up his hat, which had been knockedoff, and rubbing his temple. ‘Hollo, sir! if you comes it this vay,you’ll fill one o’ them bags, and something to spare, at one fire.’
Here the leather-legginged boy laughed very heartily18, and thentried to look as if it was somebody else, whereat Mr. Winklefrowned majestically19.
‘Where did you tell the boy to meet us with the snack, Martin?’
inquired Wardle.
‘Side of One-tree Hill, at twelve o’clock, sir.’
‘That’s not Sir Geoffrey’s land, is it?’
‘No, sir; but it’s close by it. It’s Captain Boldwig’s land; butthere’ll be nobody to interrupt us, and there’s a fine bit of turfthere.’
‘Very well,’ said old Wardle. ‘Now the sooner we’re off thebetter. Will you join us at twelve, then, Pickwick?’
Mr. Pickwick was particularly desirous to view the sport, themore especially as he was rather anxious in respect of Mr.
Winkle’s life and limbs. On so inviting20 a morning, too, it was verytantalising to turn back, and leave his friends to enjoy themselves.
It was, therefore, with a very rueful air that he replied―‘Why, I suppose I must.’
‘Ain’t the gentleman a shot, sir?’ inquired the long gamekeeper.
‘No,’ replied Wardle; ‘and he’s lame21 besides.’
‘I should very much like to go,’ said Mr. Pickwick―‘very much.’
There was a short pause of commiseration22.
‘There’s a barrow t’other side the hedge,’ said the boy. ‘If thegentleman’s servant would wheel along the paths, he could keepnigh us, and we could lift it over the stiles, and that.’
‘The wery thing,’ said Mr. Weller, who was a party interested,inasmuch as he ardently23 longed to see the sport. ‘The wery thing.
Well said, Smallcheek; I’ll have it out in a minute.’
But here a difficulty arose. The long gamekeeper resolutelyprotested against the introduction into a shooting party, of agentleman in a barrow, as a gross violation25 of all established rulesand precedents26. It was a great objection, but not aninsurmountable one. The gamekeeper having been coaxed27 andfeed, and having, moreover, eased his mind by ‘punching’ the headof the inventive youth who had first suggested the use of themachine, Mr. Pickwick was placed in it, and off the party set;Wardle and the long gamekeeper leading the way, and Mr.
Pickwick in the barrow, propelled by Sam, bringing up the rear.
‘Stop, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, when they had got half acrossthe first field.
‘What’s the matter now?’ said Wardle.
‘I won’t suffer this barrow to be moved another step,’ said Mr.
Pickwick, resolutely24, ’un less Winkle carries that gun of his in adifferent manner.’
‘How am I to carry it?’ said the wretched Winkle. ‘Carry it withthe muzzle28 to the ground,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
‘It’s so unsportsmanlike,’ reasoned Winkle.
‘I don’t care whether it’s unsportsmanlike or not,’ replied Mr.
Pickwick; ‘I am not going to be shot in a wheel-barrow, for thesake of appearances, to please anybody.’
‘I know the gentleman’ll put that ’ere charge into somebodyafore he’s done,’ growled29 the long man.
‘Well, well―I don’t mind,’ said poor Winkle, turning his gun-stock uppermost―‘there.’
‘Anythin’ for a quiet life,’ said Mr. Weller; and on they wentagain.
‘Stop!’ said Mr. Pickwick, after they had gone a few yardsfarther.
‘What now?’ said Wardle.
‘That gun of Tupman’s is not safe: I know it isn’t,’ said Mr.
Pickwick.
‘Eh? What! not safe?’ said Mr. Tupman, in a tone of greatalarm.
‘Not as you are carrying it,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘I am very sorryto make any further objection, but I cannot consent to go on,unless you carry it as Winkle does his.’
‘I think you had better, sir,’ said the long gamekeeper, ‘oryou’re quite as likely to lodge30 the charge in yourself as in anythingelse.’
Mr. Tupman, with the most obliging haste, placed his piece in the position required, and the party moved on again; the twoamateurs marching with reversed arms, like a couple of privates ata royal funeral.
The dogs suddenly came to a dead stop, and the partyadvancing stealthily a single pace, stopped too.
‘What’s the matter with the dogs’ legs?’ whispered Mr. Winkle.
‘How queer they’re standing31.’
‘Hush, can’t you?’ replied Wardle softly. ‘Don’t you see, they’remaking a point?’
‘Making a point!’ said Mr. Winkle, staring about him, as if heexpected to discover some particular beauty in the landscape,which the sagacious animals were calling special attention to.
‘Making a point! What are they pointing at?’
‘Keep your eyes open,’ said Wardle, not heeding32 the question inthe excitement of the moment. ‘Now then.’
There was a sharp whirring noise, that made Mr. Winkle startback as if he had been shot himself. Bang, bang, went a couple ofguns―the smoke swept quickly away over the field, and curledinto the air.
‘Where are they!’ said Mr. Winkle, in a state of the highestexcitement, turning round and round in all directions. ‘Where arethey? Tell me when to fire. Where are they―where are they?’
‘Where are they!’ said Wardle, taking up a brace of birds whichthe dogs had deposited at his feet. ‘Why, here they are.’
‘No, no; I mean the others,’ said the bewildered Winkle.
‘Far enough off, by this time,’ replied Wardle, coolly reloadinghis gun.
‘We shall very likely be up with another covey in five minutes,’
said the long gamekeeper. ‘If the gentleman begins to fire now,perhaps he’ll just get the shot out of the barrel by the time theyrise.’
‘Ha! ha! ha!’ roared Mr. Weller.
‘Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, compassionating33 his follower’sconfusion and embarrassment34.
‘Sir.’
‘Don’t laugh.’
‘Certainly not, sir.’ So, by way of indemnification, Mr. Wellercontorted his features from behind the wheel-barrow, for theexclusive amusement of the boy with the leggings, who thereuponburst into a boisterous36 laugh, and was summarily cuffed37 by thelong gamekeeper, who wanted a pretext38 for turning round, to hidehis own merriment.
‘Bravo, old fellow!’ said Wardle to Mr. Tupman; ‘you fired thattime, at all events.’
‘Oh, yes,’ replied Mr. Tupman, with conscious pride. ‘I let it off.’
‘Well done. You’ll hit something next time, if you look sharp.
Very easy, ain’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s very easy,’ said Mr. Tupman. ‘How it hurts one’sshoulder, though. It nearly knocked me backwards39. I had no ideathese small firearms kicked so.’
‘Ah,’ said the old gentleman, smiling, ‘you’ll get used to it intime. Now then―all ready―all right with the barrow there?’
‘All right, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.
‘Come along, then.’
‘Hold hard, sir,’ said Sam, raising the barrow.
‘Aye, aye,’ replied Mr. Pickwick; and on they went, as briskly asneed be.
‘Keep that barrow back now,’ cried Wardle, when it had beenhoisted over a stile into another field, and Mr. Pickwick had beendeposited in it once more.
‘All right, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller, pausing.
‘Now, Winkle,’ said the old gentleman, ‘follow me softly, anddon’t be too late this time.’
‘Never fear,’ said Mr. Winkle. ‘Are they pointing?’
‘No, no; not now. Quietly now, quietly.’ On they crept, and veryquietly they would have advanced, if Mr. Winkle, in theperformance of some very intricate evolutions with his gun, hadnot accidentally fired, at the most critical moment, over the boy’shead, exactly in the very spot where the tall man’s brain wouldhave been, had he been there instead.
‘Why, what on earth did you do that for?’ said old Wardle, asthe birds flew unharmed away.
‘I never saw such a gun in my life,’ replied poor Mr. Winkle,looking at the lock, as if that would do any good. ‘It goes off of itsown accord. It will do it.’
‘Will do it!’ echoed Wardle, with something of irritation40 in hismanner. ‘I wish it would kill something of its own accord.’
‘It’ll do that afore long, sir,’ observed the tall man, in a low,prophetic voice.
‘What do you mean by that observation, sir?’ inquired Mr.
Winkle, angrily.
‘Never mind, sir, never mind,’ replied the long gamekeeper;‘I’ve no family myself, sir; and this here boy’s mother will getsomething handsome from Sir Geoffrey, if he’s killed on his land.
Load again, sir, load again.’
‘Take away his gun,’ cried Mr. Pickwick from the barrow,horror-stricken at the long man’s dark insinuations. ‘Take awayhis gun, do you hear, somebody?’
Nobody, however, volunteered to obey the command; and Mr.
Winkle, after darting41 a rebellious42 glance at Mr. Pickwick, reloadedhis gun, and proceeded onwards with the rest.
We are bound, on the authority of Mr. Pickwick, to state, thatMr. Tupman’s mode of proceeding43 evinced far more of prudenceand deliberation, than that adopted by Mr. Winkle. Still, this by nomeans detracts from the great authority of the latter gentleman,on all matters connected with the field; because, as Mr. Pickwickbeautifully observes, it has somehow or other happened, from timeimmemorial, that many of the best and ablest philosophers, whohave been perfect lights of science in matters of theory, have beenwholly unable to reduce them to practice.
Mr. Tupman’s process, like many of our most sublimediscoveries, was extremely simple. With the quickness andpenetration of a man of genius, he had at once observed that thetwo great points to be attained44 were―first, to discharge his piecewithout injury to himself, and, secondly45, to do so, without dangerto the bystanders―obviously, the best thing to do, aftersurmounting the difficulty of firing at all, was to shut his eyesfirmly, and fire into the air.
On one occasion, after performing this feat35, Mr. Tupman, onopening his eyes, beheld46 a plump partridge in the act of falling,wounded, to the ground. He was on the point of congratulatingMr. Wardle on his invariable success, when that gentlemanadvanced towards him, and grasped him warmly by the hand.
‘Tupman,’ said the old gentleman, ‘you singled out thatparticular bird?’
‘No,’ said Mr. Tupman―‘no.’
‘You did,’ said Wardle. ‘I saw you do it―I observed you pickhim out―I noticed you, as you raised your piece to take aim; and Iwill say this, that the best shot in existence could not have done itmore beautifully. You are an older hand at this than I thought you,Tupman; you have been out before.’ It was in vain for Mr. Tupmanto protest, with a smile of self-denial, that he never had. The verysmile was taken as evidence to the contrary; and from that timeforth his reputation was established. It is not the only reputationthat has been acquired as easily, nor are such fortunatecircumstances confined to partridge-shooting.
Meanwhile, Mr. Winkle flashed, and blazed, and smoked away,without producing any material results worthy47 of being noteddown; sometimes expending48 his charge in mid-air, and at otherssending it skimming along so near the surface of the ground as toplace the lives of the two dogs on a rather uncertain andprecarious tenure49. As a display of fancy-shooting, it was extremelyvaried and curious; as an exhibition of firing with any preciseobject, it was, upon the whole, perhaps a failure. It is anestablished axiom, that ‘every bullet has its billet.’ If it apply in anequal degree to shot, those of Mr. Winkle were unfortunatefoundlings, deprived of their natural rights, cast loose upon theworld, and billeted nowhere. ‘Well,’ said Wardle, walking up to theside of the barrow, and wiping the streams of perspiration50 fromhis jolly red face; ‘smoking day, isn’t it?’
‘It is, indeed,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. The sun is tremendouslyhot, even to me. I don’t know how you must feel it.’
‘Why,’ said the old gentleman, ‘pretty hot. It’s past twelve,though. You see that green hill there?’
‘Certainly.’
‘That’s the place where we are to lunch; and, by Jove, there’sthe boy with the basket, punctual as clockwork!’
‘So he is,’ said Mr. Pickwick, brightening up. ‘Good boy, that.
I’ll give him a shilling, presently. Now, then, Sam, wheel away.’
‘Hold on, sir,’ said Mr. Weller, invigorated with the prospect51 ofrefreshments. ‘Out of the vay, young leathers. If you walley myprecious life don’t upset me, as the gen’l’m’n said to the driverwhen they was a-carryin’ him to Tyburn.’ And quickening his paceto a sharp run, Mr. Weller wheeled his master nimbly to the greenhill, shot him dexterously52 out by the very side of the basket, andproceeded to unpack53 it with the utmost despatch54.
‘Weal pie,’ said Mr. Weller, soliloquising, as he arranged theeatables on the grass. ‘Wery good thing is weal pie, when youknow the lady as made it, and is quite sure it ain’t kittens; andarter all though, where’s the odds55, when they’re so like weal thatthe wery piemen themselves don’t know the difference?’
‘Don’t they, Sam?’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Not they, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller, touching56 his hat. ‘I lodged57 inthe same house vith a pieman once, sir, and a wery nice man hewas―reg’lar clever chap, too―make pies out o’ anything, hecould. “What a number o’ cats you keep, Mr. Brooks,” says I, whenI’d got intimate with him. “Ah,” says he, “I do―a good many,” sayshe, “You must be wery fond o’ cats,” says I. “Other people is,” sayshe, a-winkin’ at me; “they ain’t in season till the winter though,”
says he. “Not in season!” says I. “No,” says he, “fruits is in, cats isout.” “Why, what do you mean?” says I. “Mean!” says he. “That I’llnever be a party to the combination o’ the butchers, to keep up theprice o’ meat,” says he. “Mr. Weller,” says he, a-squeezing myhand wery hard, and vispering in my ear―“don’t mention thishere agin―but it’s the seasonin’ as does it. They’re all made o’
them noble animals,” says he, a-pointin’ to a wery nice little tabby kitten, “and I seasons ’em for beefsteak, weal or kidney, ’cordingto the demand. And more than that,” says he, “I can make a weal abeef-steak, or a beef-steak a kidney, or any one on ’em a mutton, ata minute’s notice, just as the market changes, and appetiteswary!”’
‘He must have been a very ingenious young man, that, Sam,’
said Mr. Pickwick, with a slight shudder58.
‘Just was, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller, continuing his occupation ofemptying the basket, ‘and the pies was beautiful. Tongue―, wellthat’s a wery good thing when it ain’t a woman’s. Bread―knuckleo’ ham, reg’lar picter―cold beef in slices, wery good. What’s inthem stone jars, young touch-and-go?’
‘Beer in this one,’ replied the boy, taking from his shoulder acouple of large stone bottles, fastened together by a leathernstrap―‘cold punch in t’other.’
‘And a wery good notion of a lunch it is, take it altogether,’ saidMr. Weller, surveying his arrangement of the repast with greatsatisfaction. ‘Now, gen’l’m’n, “fall on,” as the English said to theFrench when they fixed59 bagginets.’
It needed no second invitation to induce the party to yield fulljustice to the meal; and as little pressing did it require to induceMr. Weller, the long gamekeeper, and the two boys, to stationthemselves on the grass, at a little distance, and do good executionupon a decent proportion of the viands60. An old oak afforded apleasant shelter to the group, and a rich prospect of arable61 andmeadow land, intersected with luxuriant hedges, and richlyornamented with wood, lay spread out before them.
‘This is delightful62―thoroughly delightful!’ said Mr. Pickwick;the skin of whose expressive63 countenance64 was rapidly peeling off,with exposure to the sun.
‘So it is―so it is, old fellow,’ replied Wardle. ‘Come; a glass ofpunch!’
‘With great pleasure,’ said Mr. Pickwick; the satisfaction ofwhose countenance, after drinking it, bore testimony65 to thesincerity of the reply.
‘Good,’ said Mr. Pickwick, smacking66 his lips. ‘Very good. I’lltake another. Cool; very cool. Come, gentlemen,’ continued Mr.
Pickwick, still retaining his hold upon the jar, ‘a toast. Our friendsat Dingley Dell.’
The toast was drunk with loud acclamations.
‘I’ll tell you what I shall do, to get up my shooting again,’ saidMr. Winkle, who was eating bread and ham with a pocket-knife.
‘I’ll put a stuffed partridge on the top of a post, and practise at it,beginning at a short distance, and lengthening67 it by degrees. Iunderstand it’s capital practice.’
‘I know a gen’l’man, sir,’ said Mr. Weller, ‘as did that, andbegun at two yards; but he never tried it on agin; for he blowed thebird right clean away at the first fire, and nobody ever seed afeather on him arterwards.’
‘Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
‘Sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.
‘Have the goodness to reserve your anecdotes68 till they arecalled for.’
‘Cert’nly, sir.’
Here Mr. Weller winked69 the eye which was not concealed70 bythe beer-can he was raising to his lips, with such exquisitefacetiousness, that the two boys went into spontaneousconvulsions, and even the long man condescended71 to smile.
‘Well, that certainly is most capital cold punch,’ said Mr.
Pickwick, looking earnestly at the stone bottle; ‘and the day isextremely warm, and―Tupman, my dear friend, a glass of punch?’
‘With the greatest delight,’ replied Mr. Tupman; and havingdrank that glass, Mr. Pickwick took another, just to see whetherthere was any orange peel in the punch, because orange peelalways disagreed with him; and finding that there was not, Mr.
Pickwick took another glass to the health of their absent friend,and then felt himself imperatively74 called upon to propose anotherin honour of the punch-compounder, unknown.
This constant succession of glasses produced considerableeffect upon Mr. Pickwick; his countenance beamed with the mostsunny smiles, laughter played around his lips, and good-humouredmerriment twinkled in his eye. Yielding by degrees to theinfluence of the exciting liquid, rendered more so by the heat, Mr.
Pickwick expressed a strong desire to recollect75 a song which hehad heard in his infancy76, and the attempt proving abortive77, soughtto stimulate78 his memory with more glasses of punch, whichappeared to have quite a contrary effect; for, from forgetting thewords of the song, he began to forget how to articulate any wordsat all; and finally, after rising to his legs to address the company inan eloquent79 speech, he fell into the barrow, and fast asleep,simultaneously.
The basket having been repacked, and it being found perfectlyimpossible to awaken80 Mr. Pickwick from his torpor81, somediscussion took place whether it would be better for Mr. Weller towheel his master back again, or to leave him where he was, untilthey should all be ready to return. The latter course was at lengthdecided on; and as the further expedition was not to exceed anhour’s duration, and as Mr. Weller begged very hard to be one ofthe party, it was determined82 to leave Mr. Pickwick asleep in thebarrow, and to call for him on their return. So away they went,leaving Mr. Pickwick snoring most comfortably in the shade.
That Mr. Pickwick would have continued to snore in the shadeuntil his friends came back, or, in default thereof, until the shadesof evening had fallen on the landscape, there appears noreasonable cause to doubt; always supposing that he had beensuffered to remain there in peace. But he was not suffered toremain there in peace. And this was what prevented him.
Captain Boldwig was a little fierce man in a stiff blackneckerchief and blue surtout, who, when he did condescend72 towalk about his property, did it in company with a thick rattan83 stickwith a brass84 ferrule, and a gardener and sub-gardener with meekfaces, to whom (the gardeners, not the stick) Captain Boldwig gavehis orders with all due grandeur85 and ferocity; for CaptainBoldwig’s wife’s sister had married a marquis, and the captain’shouse was a villa86, and his land ‘grounds,’ and it was all very high,and mighty87, and great.
Mr. Pickwick had not been asleep half an hour when littleCaptain Boldwig, followed by the two gardeners, came stridingalong as fast as his size and importance would let him; and whenhe came near the oak tree, Captain Boldwig paused and drew along breath, and looked at the prospect as if he thought theprospect ought to be highly gratified at having him to take noticeof it; and then he struck the ground emphatically with his stick,and summoned the head-gardener.
‘Hunt,’ said Captain Boldwig.
‘Yes, sir,’ said the gardener.
‘Roll this place to-morrow morning―do you hear, Hunt?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And take care that you keep this place in good order―do youhear, Hunt?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And remind me to have a board done about trespassers, andspring guns, and all that sort of thing, to keep the common peopleout. Do you hear, Hunt; do you hear?’
‘I’ll not forget it, sir.’
‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said the other man, advancing, with hishand to his hat.
‘Well, Wilkins, what’s the matter with you?’ said CaptainBoldwig.
‘I beg your pardon, sir―but I think there have been trespassershere to-day.’
‘Ha!’ said the captain, scowling88 around him.
‘Yes, sir―they have been dining here, I think, sir.’
‘Why, damn their audacity89, so they have,’ said Captain Boldwig,as the crumbs90 and fragments that were strewn upon the grass methis eye. ‘They have actually been devouring91 their food here. I wishI had the vagabonds here!’ said the captain, clenching92 the thickstick.
‘I wish I had the vagabonds here,’ said the captain wrathfully.
‘Beg your pardon, sir,’ said Wilkins, ‘but―’
‘But what? Eh?’ roared the captain; and following the timidglance of Wilkins, his eyes encountered the wheel-barrow and Mr.
Pickwick.
‘Who are you, you rascal93?’ said the captain, administeringseveral pokes94 to Mr. Pickwick’s body with the thick stick. ‘What’syour name?’
‘Cold punch,’ murmured Mr. Pickwick, as he sank to sleepagain.
‘What?’ demanded Captain Boldwig.
No reply.
‘What did he say his name was?’ asked the captain.
‘Punch, I think, sir,’ replied Wilkins.
‘That’s his impudence―that’s his confounded impudence,’ saidCaptain Boldwig. ‘He’s only feigning95 to be asleep now,’ said thecaptain, in a high passion. ‘He’s drunk; he’s a drunken plebeian96.
Wheel him away, Wilkins, wheel him away directly.’
‘Where shall I wheel him to, sir?’ inquired Wilkins, with greattimidity.
‘Wheel him to the devil,’ replied Captain Boldwig.
‘Very well, sir,’ said Wilkins.
‘Stay,’ said the captain.
Wilkins stopped accordingly.
‘Wheel him,’ said the captain―‘wheel him to the pound; and letus see whether he calls himself Punch when he comes to himself.
He shall not bully97 me―he shall not bully me. Wheel him away.’
Away Mr. Pickwick was wheeled in compliance98 with thisimperious mandate99; and the great Captain Boldwig, swelling100 with indignation, proceeded on his walk.
Inexpressible was the astonishment101 of the little party when theyreturned, to find that Mr. Pickwick had disappeared, and takenthe wheel-barrow with him. It was the most mysterious andunaccountable thing that was ever heard of For a lame man tohave got upon his legs without any previous notice, and walkedoff, would have been most extraordinary; but when it came to hiswheeling a heavy barrow before him, by way of amusement, itgrew positively102 miraculous103. They searched every nook and cornerround, together and separately; they shouted, whistled, laughed,called―and all with the same result. Mr. Pickwick was not to befound. After some hours of fruitless search, they arrived at theunwelcome conclusion that they must go home without him.
Meanwhile Mr. Pickwick had been wheeled to the pound, andsafely deposited therein, fast asleep in the wheel-barrow, to theimmeasurable delight and satisfaction not only of all the boys inthe village, but three-fourths of the whole population, who hadgathered round, in expectation of his waking. If their most intensegratification had been awakened104 by seeing him wheeled in, howmany hundredfold was their joy increased when, after a fewindistinct cries of ‘Sam!’ he sat up in the barrow, and gazed withindescribable astonishment on the faces before him.
A general shout was of course the signal of his having woke up;and his involuntary inquiry105 of ‘What’s the matter?’ occasionedanother, louder than the first, if possible.
‘Here’s a game!’ roared the populace.
‘Where am I?’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
‘In the pound,’ replied the mob.
‘How came I here? What was I doing? Where was I broughtfrom?’
‘Boldwig! Captain Boldwig!’ was the only reply.
‘Let me out,’ cried Mr. Pickwick. ‘Where’s my servant? Whereare my friends?’
‘You ain’t got no friends. Hurrah106!’ Then there came a turnip,then a potato, and then an egg; with a few other little tokens of theplayful disposition107 of the many-headed.
How long this scene might have lasted, or how much Mr.
Pickwick might have suffered, no one can tell, had not a carriage,which was driving swiftly by, suddenly pulled up, from whencethere descended73 old Wardle and Sam Weller, the former of whom,in far less time than it takes to write it, if not to read it, had madehis way to Mr. Pickwick’s side, and placed him in the vehicle, justas the latter had concluded the third and last round of a singlecombat with the town-beadle.
‘Run to the justice’s!’ cried a dozen voices.
‘Ah, run avay,’ said Mr. Weller, jumping up on the box. ‘Give mycompliments―Mr. Veller’s compliments―to the justice, and tellhim I’ve spiled his beadle, and that, if he’ll swear in a new ’un , I’llcome back again to-morrow and spile him. Drive on, old feller.’
‘I’ll give directions for the commencement of an action for falseimprisonment against this Captain Boldwig, directly I get toLondon,’ said Mr. Pickwick, as soon as the carriage turned out ofthe town.
‘We were trespassing108, it seems,’ said Wardle.
‘I don’t care,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘I’ll bring the action.’
‘No, you won’t,’ said Wardle.
‘I will, by―’ But as there was a humorous expression inWardle’s face, Mr. Pickwick checked himself, and said, ‘Why not?’
‘Because,’ said old Wardle, half-bursting with laughter,‘because they might turn on some of us, and say we had taken toomuch cold punch.’
Do what he would, a smile would come into Mr. Pickwick’s face;the smile extended into a laugh; the laugh into a roar; the roarbecame general. So, to keep up their good-humour, they stoppedat the first roadside tavern109 they came to, and ordered a glass ofbrandy-and-water all round, with a magnum of extra strength forMr. Samuel Weller.
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1
strutted
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| 趾高气扬地走，高视阔步( strut的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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coxcombry
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| n.（男子的）虚浮，浮夸，爱打扮 | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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basked
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的过去式和过去分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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blithesome
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| adj.欢乐的，愉快的 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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admonished
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| v.劝告( admonish的过去式和过去分词 )；训诫；（温和地）责备；轻责 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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18
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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19
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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20
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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21
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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22
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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24
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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25
violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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26
precedents
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| 引用单元； 范例( precedent的名词复数 )； 先前出现的事例； 前例； 先例 | |
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27
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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28
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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29
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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30
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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31
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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32
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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33
compassionating
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| v.同情（compassionate的现在分词形式） | |
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34
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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35
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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36
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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37
cuffed
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| v.掌打，拳打( cuff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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39
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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40
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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41
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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42
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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43
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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44
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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45
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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46
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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47
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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48
expending
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| v.花费( expend的现在分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
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49
tenure
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| n.终身职位；任期；(土地)保有权，保有期 | |
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50
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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51
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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52
dexterously
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| adv.巧妙地，敏捷地 | |
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53
unpack
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| vt.打开包裹（或行李），卸货 | |
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54
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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55
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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56
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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57
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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58
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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59
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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60
viands
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| n.食品，食物 | |
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61
arable
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| adj.可耕的，适合种植的 | |
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62
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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63
expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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64
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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65
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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66
smacking
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| 活泼的，发出响声的，精力充沛的 | |
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67
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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68
anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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69
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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70
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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71
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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72
condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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73
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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74
imperatively
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| adv.命令式地 | |
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75
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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76
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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77
abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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78
stimulate
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| vt.刺激，使兴奋；激励，使…振奋 | |
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79
eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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80
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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81
torpor
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| n.迟钝；麻木；（动物的）冬眠 | |
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82
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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83
rattan
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| n.藤条，藤杖 | |
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84
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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85
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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86
villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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87
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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88
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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89
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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90
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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91
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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92
clenching
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的现在分词 ) | |
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93
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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94
pokes
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| v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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95
feigning
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| 假装，伪装( feign的现在分词 )； 捏造（借口、理由等） | |
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96
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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97
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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98
compliance
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| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
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99
mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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100
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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101
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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102
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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103
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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104
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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105
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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106
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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107
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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108
trespassing
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| [法]非法入侵 | |
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109
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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