The Pickwick Papers | Page 8

'Yes, did he,' replied the first; 'and then arter aggerawatin' me to assault
him, gets three witnesses here to prove it. But I'll give it him, if I've six
months for it. Come on!' and the cabman dashed his hat upon the
ground, with a reckless disregard of his own private property, and
knocked Mr. Pickwick's spectacles off, and followed up the attack with
a blow on Mr. Pickwick's nose, and another on Mr. Pickwick's chest,
and a third in Mr. Snodgrass's eye, and a fourth, by way of variety, in
Mr. Tupman's waistcoat, and then danced into the road, and then back
again to the pavement, and finally dashed the whole temporary supply
of breath out of Mr. Winkle's body; and all in half a dozen seconds.
'Where's an officer?' said Mr. Snodgrass.
'Put 'em under the pump,' suggested a hot-pieman.
'You shall smart for this,' gasped Mr. Pickwick.
'Informers!' shouted the crowd.
'Come on,' cried the cabman, who had been sparring without cessation
the whole time.
The mob hitherto had been passive spectators of the scene, but as the
intelligence of the Pickwickians being informers was spread among
them, they began to canvass with considerable vivacity the propriety of
enforcing the heated pastry-vendor's proposition: and there is no saying
what acts of personal aggression they might have committed, had not
the affray been unexpectedly terminated by the interposition of a
new-comer.
'What's the fun?' said a rather tall, thin, young man, in a green coat,
emerging suddenly from the coach-yard.
'informers!' shouted the crowd again.
'We are not,' roared Mr. Pickwick, in a tone which, to any dispassionate

listener, carried conviction with it. 'Ain't you, though--ain't you?' said
the young man, appealing to Mr. Pickwick, and making his way
through the crowd by the infallible process of elbowing the
countenances of its component members.
That learned man in a few hurried words explained the real state of the
case.
'Come along, then,' said he of the green coat, lugging Mr. Pickwick
after him by main force, and talking the whole way. Here, No. 924,
take your fare, and take yourself off--respectable gentleman--know him
well--none of your nonsense--this way, sir--where's your friends?--all a
mistake, I see--never mind-- accidents will happen--best regulated
families--never say die-- down upon your luck--Pull him UP--Put that
in his pipe--like the flavour--damned rascals.' And with a lengthened
string of similar broken sentences, delivered with extraordinary
volubility, the stranger led the way to the traveller's waiting-room,
whither he was closely followed by Mr. Pickwick and his disciples.
'Here, waiter!' shouted the stranger, ringing the bell with tremendous
violence, 'glasses round--brandy-and-water, hot and strong, and sweet,
and plenty,--eye damaged, Sir? Waiter! raw beef-steak for the
gentleman's eye--nothing like raw beef-steak for a bruise, sir; cold
lamp-post very good, but lamp-post inconvenient--damned odd
standing in the open street half an hour, with your eye against a
lamp-post--eh,--very good-- ha! ha!' And the stranger, without stopping
to take breath, swallowed at a draught full half a pint of the reeking
brandy-and- water, and flung himself into a chair with as much ease as
if nothing uncommon had occurred.
While his three companions were busily engaged in proffering their
thanks to their new acquaintance, Mr. Pickwick had leisure to examine
his costume and appearance.
He was about the middle height, but the thinness of his body, and the
length of his legs, gave him the appearance of being much taller. The
green coat had been a smart dress garment in the days of swallow-tails,
but had evidently in those times adorned a much shorter man than the

stranger, for the soiled and faded sleeves scarcely reached to his wrists.
It was buttoned closely up to his chin, at the imminent hazard of
splitting the back; and an old stock, without a vestige of shirt collar,
ornamented his neck. His scanty black trousers displayed here and there
those shiny patches which bespeak long service, and were strapped
very tightly over a pair of patched and mended shoes, as if to conceal
the dirty white stockings, which were nevertheless distinctly visible.
His long, black hair escaped in negligent waves from beneath each side
of his old pinched-up hat; and glimpses of his bare wrists might be
observed between the tops of his gloves and the cuffs of his coat
sleeves. His face was thin and haggard; but an indescribable air of
jaunty impudence and perfect self- possession pervaded the whole man.
Such was the individual on whom Mr. Pickwick gazed through his
spectacles (which he had fortunately recovered), and to whom he
proceeded, when his friends had exhausted themselves, to return in
chosen terms his warmest thanks for his recent assistance.
'Never mind,' said the stranger, cutting the address very short, 'said
enough--no more; smart chap that cabman--handled his fives well; but
if I'd