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"La, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell; the crimson rising to her cap-border again.

"I do," said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic as was his wont in speaking of a subject which interested him. "I do, indeed; and to tell you the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind."

"Dear me, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.

"You'll think it not very strange now," said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, with a good-humored glance at his companion, "that I never consulted you about this matter, and never mentioned it, till I sent your little boy out this morning-eh?"

Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long worshipped Mr. Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, raised to a pinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant hopes had never dared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose a deliberate plan, too-sent her little boy to the Borough, to get him out of the way-how thoughtful-how considerate!

"Well," said Mr. Pickwick, "what do you think?"

"Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation, "you 're very kind sir."

"It'll save you a great deal of trouble, wont it?" said Mr. Pickwick.

“Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble sir," replied Mrs. Bardell; "and, of course, I should take more trouble to please you than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so much consideration for my loneliness."

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Ah, to be sure," said Mr. Pickwick "I never thought of that. When I am in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. To be sure so you will."

"I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardell.

"And your little boy" said Mr. Pickwick.

"Bless his heart," interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob.

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"He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick, a lively one, who 'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in

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a week, than he could ever learn in a year." And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly.

66 Oh you dear" said Mrs. Bardell.

Mr. Pickwick started.

"Oh you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardell; and without more ado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pickwick's neck with a cataract of tears, and a chorus of sobs.

"Bless my soul," cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick; "Mrs. Bardell, my good woman-dear me, what a situation-pray consider. Mrs. Bardell, don't—if any body should come"

"Oh, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically; "I'll never leave you-dear, kind, good soul ;" and, with these words, Mrs. Bardell clung the tighter.

"Mercy upon me," said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently, "I hear somebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good creature, don't." But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing; for Mrs. Bardell had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms; and before he could gain time to deposit her on a chair, Master Bardell entered the room, ushering in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass.

Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood with his lovely burden in his arms, gazing vacantly on the countenances of his friends, without the slightest attempt at recognition or explanation. They, in their turn, stared at him; and Master Bardell, in his turn, stared at everybody.

The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and the perplexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might have remained in exactly the same relative situation until the suspended animation of the lady was restored, had it not been for a most beautiful and touching expression of filial affection on the part of her youthful son. Clad in a tight suit of corduroy, spangled with brass buttons of a very considerable size, he at first stood at the door astounded and uncertain; but by degrees the impression that his mother must have suffered some personal damage, pervaded his partially developed mind, and considering Mr. Pickwick as the aggressor,

he set up an appalling and semi-earthly kind of howling, and butting forward with his head, commenced assailing that im mortal gentleman about the back and legs, with such blows and pinches as the strength of his arm, and the violence of his excitement allowed.

"Take this little villain away," said the agonized Mr. Pickwick; "he's mad.”

"What is the matter?" said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians.

"I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. "Take away the boy"-(here Mr. Winkle carried the interesting boy, screaming and struggling, to the farther end of the apartment.) · "Now help me to lead this woman down stairs."

"Oh, I am better now," said Mrs. Bardell faintly.

"Let me lead you down stairs," said the ever-gallant Mr. Tupman.

"Thank you, sir,-thank you," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, hysterically. And down stairs she was led accordingly, accompanied by her affectionate son.

"I cannot conceive," said Mr. Pickwick, when his friend returned-" I cannot conceive what has been the matter with that woman. I had merely announced to her my intention of keeping a man-servant when she fell into the extraordinary paroxysm in which you found her. Very extraordinary thing!" "Very," said his three friends.

"Placed me in such an extremely awkward situation," continued Mr. Pickwick.

"Very," was the reply of his followers, as they coughed, and looked dubiously at each other.

This behaviour was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick; he remarked their credulity. They evidently suspected him. "There is a man in the passage now," said Mr. Tupman. "It's the man I spoke to you about," said Mr. Pickwick. "I sent for him to the Borough this morning. Have the goodness to call him up, Snodgrass."

Mr. Snodgrass did as he was desired; and Mr. Samuel Weller forthwith presented himself.

PEDANTRY.-GEORGE COLMAN, JR.

DR. PANGLOSS AND LORD DUBERLY.

Lord D. Doctor, good morning-I wish you a bon repos! Take a chair, doctor.

Pang. Pardon me, my lord; I am not inclined to be sedentary; I wish, with permission, "erectos ad sidera tollere vultus."-Ovid. Hem!

Lord D. Tollory vultures! I suppose that that means you had rather stand?

Pang. Fye! this is a locomotive morning with me. Just hurried, my lord, from the Society of Arts; whence, I may say, "I have borne my blushing honors thick upon me. Shakspeare. Hem!

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Lord D. And what has put your honors to the blush this morning, doctor?

Pang. To the blush! A ludicrous perversion of the author's meaning-he, he, he! hem! You shall hear, my lord "Lend me your ears." Shakspeare again. Hem! 'tis not unknown to your lordship, and the no less literary world, that the Caledonian University of Aberdeen long since conferred upon me the dignity of L. L. D.; and, as I never beheld that erudite body, I may safely say they dubb'd me with a degree from sheer considerations of my celebrity.

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Pang. For nothing, my lord, but my own innate modesty, could suppose that Scotch college to be swayed by one pound fifteen shillings and three pence three farthings, paid on receiving my diploma as a handsome compliment to the numerous and learned head of that seminary.

66 auri sacra

Lord D. Oh, no, it wasn't for the matter of money. Pang. I do not think it was altogether the fames."-Virgil. Hem! But this very day, my lord, at eleven o'clock, A. M., the Society of Arts, in consequence, as they were pleased to say, of my merits-he, he, he! my merits, my lord-have admitted me as an unworthy member; and I have,

henceforward, the privilege of adding to my name the honor able title of A double S.

Lord D. And I make no doubt, doctor, but you have richly deserved it. I warrant a man doesn't get A double S

tack'd to his name for nothing.

Pang. Decidedly not, my lord. Yes, I am now artium societatis socius. My two last publications did that business. Exegi monumentum ære perennius."-Horace. Hem!

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Lord D. And what might them there two books be about, doctor?

Pang. The first, my lord, was a plan to lull the restless to sleep, by an infusion of opium into their ears. The efficacy of this method originally struck me in St. Stephen's chapel, while listening to the oratory of a worthy country gentleman.

Lord D. I wonder it wa'nt hit upon before by the doctors. Pang. Physicians, my lord, put their patients to sleep in another manner. He, he, he! "To die-to sleep; no more.' Shakspeare. Hem! my second treatise was a proposal for erecting dove-houses, on a principle tending to increase the propagation of pigeons. This, I may affirm, has received considerable countenance from many who move in the circles of fashion. "Nec gemere cessabit turtur."—Virgil. am about to publish a third edition, by subscription. May I have the honor to pop your lordship down among the pigeons? Lord D. Aye, aye; down with me, doctor.

Hem! I

Pang. My lord, I am grateful. I ever insert names and titles at full length. What may be your lordship's sponsorial and patronymic appellations? (Taking out his pocket-book.) Lord D. My what?

Pang. I mean, my lord, the designations given to you by your lordship's godfathers and parents.

Lord D. Oh! What? my Christian and surname ? I was baptized Daniel.

Pang. "Abolens baptismate labem." matter-hem! The Right Honorable Daniel

Lord D. Dowlas.

I forgot where-no

(Writing.)

Pang. (Writing.) Dowlas-" filthy Dow!" hem! Shak

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