What's that?' he inquired, as the waiter removed one of the covers.

Soles, Sir.'

Soles - ah! - capital fish - all come from London-stage- coach

proprietors get up political dinners - carriage of soles - dozens of

baskets - cunning fellows. Glass of wine, Sir.'

With pleasure,' said Mr Pickwick; and the stranger took wine, first

with him, and then with Mr Snodgrass, and then with Mr Tupman,

and then with Mr Winkle, and then with the whole party together,

almost as rapidly as he talked.

'Devil of a mess on the staircase, waiter,' said the stranger. 'Forms

going up - carpenters coming down - lamps, glasses, harps. What's

going forward?'

Ball, Sir,' said the waiter.

Assembly, eh?'

No, Sir, not assembly, Sir. Ball for the benefit of a charity, Sir.'

Many fine women in this town, do you know, Sir?' inquired Mr

Tupman, with great interest.

Splendid - capital. Kent, sir - everybody knows Kent - apples,

cherries, hops, and women. Glass of wine, Sir!'

With great pleasure,' replied Mr Tupman. The stranger filled, and

emptied.

I should very much like to go,' said Mr Tupman, resuming the subject

of the ball, 'very much.'

Tickets at the bar, Sir,' interposed the waiter; 'half-a-guinea each,

Sir.'

Mr Tupman again expressed an earnest wish to be present at the

festivity; but meeting with no response in the darkened eye of Mr

Snodgrass, or the abstracted gaze of Mr Pickwick, he applied himself

with great interest to the port wine and dessert, which had just been

placed on the table. The waiter withdrew, and the party were left to

enjoy the cosy couple of hours succeeding dinner.

'Beg your pardon, sir,' said the stranger, 'bottle stands - pass it round

way of the sun - through the button-hole - no heeltaps,' and he

The Pickwick Papers