"You rendered us a very important service this morning, sir," said he, "will you allow us to offer a slight mark of our gratitude by begging the favour of your company at dinner?""Great pleasure--not presume to dictate, but broiled fowl and mushrooms--capital thing! what time?""Let me see," replied Mr.Pickwick, referring to his watch, "it is now nearly three.Shall we say five?""Suit me excellently," said the stranger, "five precisely--till then--care of yourselves;" and lifting the pinched-up hat a few inches from his head, and carelessly replacing it very much on one side, the stranger, with half the brown paper parcel sticking out of his pocket, walked briskly up the yard, and turned into the High Street.
"Evidently a traveller in many countries, and a close observer of men and things," said Mr.Pickwick.
"I should like to see his poem," said Mr.Snodgrass.
"I should like to have seen that dog," said Mr.Winkle.
Mr.Tupman said nothing; but he thought of Donna Christina, the stomach pump, and the fountain; and his eyes filled with tears.
A private sitting-room having been engaged, bed-rooms inspected, and dinner ordered, the party walked out to view the city and adjoining neighbourhood.
We do not find, from a careful perusal of Mr.Pickwick's notes on the four towns, Stroud, Rochester, Chatham, and Brompton, that his impressions of their appearance differ in any material point from those of other travellers who have gone over the same ground.His general description is easily abridged.
"The principal productions of these towns," says Mr.Pickwick, "appear to be soldiers, sailors, Jews, chalk, shrimps, officers, and dockyard men.
The commodities chiefly exposed for sale in the public streets are marine stores, hardbake, apples, flat-fish, and oysters.The streets present a lively and animated appearance, occasioned chiefly by the conviviality of the military.It is truly delightful to a philanthropic mind, to see these gallant men staggering along under the influence of an overflow, both of animal and ardent spirits; more especially when we remember that the following them about, and jesting with them, affords a cheap and innocent amusement for the boy population.Nothing (adds Mr.Pickwick) can exceed their good humour.It was but the day before my arrival that one of them had been most grossly insulted in the house of a publican.The barmaid had positively refused to draw him any more liquor; in return for which he had (merely in playfulness) drawn his bayonet, and wounded the girl in the shoulder.And yet this fine fellow was the very first to go down to the house next morning, and express his readiness to overlook the matter, and forget what had occurred.
"The consumption of tobacco in these towns (continues Mr.Pickwick)must be very great: and the smell which pervades the streets must be exceedingly delicious to those who are extremely fond of smoking.A superficial traveller might object to the dirt which is their leading characteristic; but to those who view it as an indication of traffic and commercial prosperity, it is truly gratifying."Punctual to five o'clock came the stranger, and shortly afterwards the dinner.He had divested himself of his brown paper parcel, but had made no alteration in his attire; and was, if possible, more loquacious than ever.
"What's that?" he inquired, as the waiter removed one of the covers.
"Soles, sir."
"Soles--ah!--capital fish--all come from London--stagecoach 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--applies, 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 emptied his glass, which he had filled about two minutes before, and poured out another, with the air of a man who was used to it.
The wine was passed, and a fresh supply ordered.The visitor talked, the Pickwickians listened.Mr.Tupman felt every moment more disposed for the ball.Mr.Pickwick's countenance glowed with an expression of universal philanthropy; and Mr.Winkle and Mr.Snodgrass fell fast asleep.
"They're beginning up-stairs," said the stranger--"hear the company--fiddles tuning--now the harp--there they go." The various sounds which found their way down-stairs announced the commencement of the first quadrille.
"How I should like to go," said Mr.Tupman, again.