was thrust out of the one-pair window of a house with a red door, a

few numbers off.

'Aggrawatin' thing!' said the vixenish lady last-mentioned, darting a

withering glance at the heavy gentleman.

'My dear, it's not my fault,' said the gentleman.

Don't talk to me, you creetur, don't,' retorted the lady. 'The house

with the red door, cabmin. Oh! If ever a woman was troubled with a

ruffinly creetur, that takes a pride and a pleasure in disgracing his

wife on every possible occasion afore strangers, I am that woman!'

You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Raddle,' said the other little

woman, who was no other than Mrs. Cluppins. 'What have I been a-

doing of?' asked Mr Raddle.

'Don't talk to me, don't, you brute, for fear I should be perwoked to

forgit my sect and strike you!' said Mrs. Raddle.

While this dialogue was going on, the driver was most ignominiously

leading the horse, by the bridle, up to the house with the red door,

which Master Bardell had already opened. Here was a mean and low

way of arriving at a friend's house! No dashing up, with all the fire and

fury of the animal; no jumping down of the driver; no loud knocking at

the door; no opening of the apron with a crash at the very last

moment, for fear of the ladies sitting in a draught; and then the man

handing the shawls out, afterwards, as if he were a private coachman!

The whole edge of the thing had been taken off - it was flatter than

walking.

Well, Tommy,' said Mrs. Cluppins, 'how's your poor dear mother?'

Oh, she's very well,' replied Master Bardell. 'She's in the front parlour,

all ready. I'm ready too, I am.' Here Master Bardell put his hands in

his pockets, and jumped off and on the bottom step of the door.

Is anybody else a-goin', Tommy?' said Mrs. Cluppins, arranging her

pelerine.

Mrs. Sanders is going, she is,' replied Tommy; 'I'm going too, I am.'

Drat the boy,' said little Mrs. Cluppins. 'He thinks of nobody but

himself. Here, Tommy, dear.'

Well,' said Master Bardell.

The Pickwick Papers