An old-fashioned Card-party — The Clergyman’s verses — The Story of the Convict’s Return

Several guests who were assembled in the old parlour rose to greet Mr. Pickwick and his friends upon their entrance; and during the performance of the ceremony of introduction, with all due formalities, Mr. Pickwick had leisure to observe the appearance, and speculate upon the characters and pursuits, of the persons by whom he was surrounded — a habit in which he, in common with many other great men, delighted to indulge.

A very old lady, in a lofty cap and faded silk gown — no less a personage than Mr. Wardle’s mother — occupied the post of honour on the right-hand corner of the chimney-piece; and various certificates of her having been brought up in the way she should go when young, and of her not having departed from it when old, ornamented¹ the walls, in the form of samplers of ancient date, worsted landscapes of equal antiquity², and crimson³ silk tea-kettle holders⁴ of a more modern period. The aunt, the two young ladies, and Mr. Wardle, each vying⁵ with the other in paying zealous⁶ and unremitting attentions to the old lady, crowded round her easy-chair, one holding her ear-trumpet, another an orange, and a third a smelling-bottle, while a fourth was busily engaged in patting and punching the pillows which were arranged for her support. On the opposite side sat a bald-headed old gentleman, with a good-humoured, benevolent⁷ face — the clergyman of Dingley Dell; and next him sat his wife, a stout⁸, blooming old lady, who looked as if she were well skilled, not only in the art and mystery of manufacturing home-made cordials greatly to other people’s satisfaction, but of tasting them occasionally very much to her own. A little hard-headed, Ripstone pippin-faced man, was

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