The Pickwick Papers


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At three o'clock that afternoon, Mr Pickwick took a last look at his  
little room, and made his way, as well as he could, through the throng  
of debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake him by the hand,  
until he reached the lodge steps. He turned here, to look about him,  
and his eye lightened as he did so. In all the crowd of wan, emaciated  
faces, he saw not one which was not happier for his sympathy and  
charity.  
'
'
Perker,' said Mr Pickwick, beckoning one young man towards him,  
this is Mr Jingle, whom I spoke to you about.'  
'
Very good, my dear Sir,' replied Perker, looking hard at Jingle. 'You  
will see me again, young man, to-morrow. I hope you may live to  
remember and feel deeply, what I shall have to communicate, Sir.'  
Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he took Mr  
Pickwick's proffered hand, and withdrew.  
'Job you know, I think?' said Mr Pickwick, presenting that gentleman.  
'
I know the rascal,' replied Perker good-humouredly. 'See after your  
friend, and be in the way to-morrow at one. Do you hear? Now, is  
there anything more?'  
'
Nothing,' rejoined Mr Pickwick. 'You have delivered the little parcel I  
gave you for your old landlord, Sam?'  
'I have, Sir,' replied Sam. 'He bust out a-cryin', Sir, and said you wos  
wery gen'rous and thoughtful, and he only wished you could have him  
innockilated for a gallopin' consumption, for his old friend as had lived  
here so long wos dead, and he'd noweres to look for another.' 'Poor  
fellow, poor fellow!' said Mr Pickwick. 'God bless you, my friends!'  
As Mr Pickwick uttered this adieu, the crowd raised a loud shout.  
Many among them were pressing forward to shake him by the hand  
again, when he drew his arm through Perker's, and hurried from the  
prison, far more sad and melancholy, for the moment, than when he  
had first entered it. Alas! how many sad and unhappy beings had he  
left behind!  
A happy evening was that for at least one party in the George and  
Vulture; and light and cheerful were two of the hearts that emerged  
from its hospitable door next morning. The owners thereof were Mr  
Pickwick and Sam Weller, the former of whom was speedily deposited  
inside a comfortable post-coach, with a little dickey behind, in which  
the latter mounted with great agility.  
'
Sir,' called out Mr Weller to his master.  


Page
656 657 658 659 660

Quick Jump
1 198 396 594 792