sleep and pleasant were the dreams that followed. It is a remarkable

fact that those of Mr Snodgrass bore constant reference to Emily

Wardle; and that the principal figure in Mr Winkle's visions was a

young lady with black eyes, and arch smile, and a pair of remarkably

nice boots with fur round the tops.

Mr Pickwick was awakened early in the morning, by a hum of voices

and a pattering of feet, sufficient to rouse even the fat boy from his

heavy slumbers. He sat up in bed and listened. The female servants

and female visitors were running constantly to and fro; and there were

such multitudinous demands for hot water, such repeated outcries for

needles and thread, and so many half-suppressed entreaties of 'Oh,

do come and tie me, there's a dear!' that Mr Pickwick in his innocence

began to imagine that something dreadful must have occurred - when

he grew more awake, and remembered the wedding. The occasion

being an important one, he dressed himself with peculiar care, and

descended to the breakfast-room.

There were all the female servants in a bran new uniform of pink

muslin gowns with white bows in their caps, running about the house

in a state of excitement and agitation which it would be impossible to

describe. The old lady was dressed out in a brocaded gown, which had

not seen the light for twenty years, saving and excepting such truant

rays as had stolen through the chinks in the box in which it had been

laid by, during the whole time. Mr Trundle was in high feather and

spirits, but a little nervous withal. The hearty old landlord was trying

to look very cheerful and unconcerned, but failing signally in the

attempt. All the girls were in tears and white muslin, except a select

two or three, who were being honoured with a private view of the bride

and bridesmaids, upstairs. All the Pickwickians were in most

blooming array; and there was a terrific roaring on the grass in front

of the house, occasioned by all the men, boys, and hobbledehoys

attached to the farm, each of whom had got a white bow in his button-

hole, and all of whom were cheering with might and main; being

incited thereto, and stimulated therein by the precept and example of

Mr Samuel Weller, who had managed to become mighty popular

already, and was as much at home as if he had been born on the land.

A wedding is a licensed subject to joke upon, but there really is no

great joke in the matter after all; - we speak merely of the ceremony,

and beg it to be distinctly understood that we indulge in no hidden

sarcasm upon a married life. Mixed up with the pleasure and joy of

the occasion, are the many regrets at quitting home, the tears of

parting between parent and child, the consciousness of leaving the

dearest and kindest friends of the happiest portion of human life, to

encounter its cares and troubles with others still untried and little

known - natural feelings which we would not render this chapter

The Pickwick Papers