Mr Pickwick stared, but said nothing.

We are pretty confident, though,' said Mr Perker, sinking his voice

almost to a whisper. 'We had a little tea-party here, last night - five-

and-forty women, my dear sir - and gave every one of 'em a green

parasol when she went away.'

'A parasol!' said Mr Pickwick.

'Fact, my dear Sir, fact. Five-and-forty green parasols, at seven and

sixpence a-piece. All women like finery - extraordinary the effect of

those parasols. Secured all their husbands, and half their brothers -

beats stockings, and flannel, and all that sort of thing hollow. My idea,

my dear Sir, entirely. Hail, rain, or sunshine, you can't walk half a

dozen yards up the street, without encountering half a dozen green

parasols.'

Here the little man indulged in a convulsion of mirth, which was only

checked by the entrance of a third party.

This was a tall, thin man, with a sandy-coloured head inclined to

baldness, and a face in which solemn importance was blended with a

look of unfathomable profundity. He was dressed in a long brown

surtout, with a black cloth waistcoat, and drab trousers. A double

eyeglass dangled at his waistcoat; and on his head he wore a very low-

crowned hat with a broad brim. The new-comer was introduced to Mr

Pickwick as Mr Pott, the editor of the Eatanswill GAZETTE. After a few

preliminary remarks, Mr Pott turned round to Mr Pickwick, and said

with solemnity -

This contest excites great interest in the metropolis, sir?'

I believe it does,' said Mr Pickwick.

To which I have reason to know,' said Pott, looking towards Mr Perker

for corroboration - 'to which I have reason to know that my article of

last Saturday in some degree contributed.'

Not the least doubt of it,' said the little man.

The press is a mighty engine, sir,' said Pott.

Mr Pickwick yielded his fullest assent to the proposition.

But I trust, sir,' said Pott, 'that I have never abused the enormous

power I wield. I trust, sir, that I have never pointed the noble

instrument which is placed in my hands, against the sacred bosom of

private life, or the tender breast of individual reputation; I trust, sir,

The Pickwick Papers