Identifier: cu31924013471481 (find matches)
Title: Works
Year: 1881 (1880s)
Authors: Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870
Subjects:
Publisher: London, Chapman and Hall, limited
Contributing Library: Cornell University Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
ut at a time 1 inquiredMr. Pickwick, searching for further information. Two or three veeks, replied tbe man. Weeks ! said Mr. Pickwick in astonishment—and out cametbe note-book again. He lives at Pentonwil when hes at home, observed tbedriver, coolly, but we seldom takes him home, on account ofhis veakness. On account of his weakness ! reiterated tbe perplexed Mr.Pickwick. He always falls down when bes took out o tbe cab, con-tinued the driver, but when hes in it, we bears him up werytight, and takes him in wery short, so as be cant wery wellfall down; and we ve got a pair o precious large wheels on, so ven he does move, they run after him, and be must go on ^be cant help it. Mr. Pickwick entered every word of this statement in his note-book, with the view of communicating it to tbe club, as a singularinstance of the tenacity of life in horses, under trying circum-stances. Tbe entry was scarcely completed when they reachedthe Golden Cross. Down jumped the driver, and out got Mr. \ \
Text Appearing After Image:
■-/^^^■^za.cuh^ C€i:Ji>;^ta^ HERES A LARK 1 Pickwick. Mr. Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and Mr. Winkle, whohad been anxiously waiting the arrival of their illustrious leader,crowded to welcome him. Heres your fare, said Mr. Pickwick, holding out the shillingto the driver. What was the learned mans astonishment, when that un-accountable person flung the money on the pavement, andrequested in figurative terms to be allowed the pleasure offighting him (Mr. Pickwick) for the amount! You are mad, said Mr. Snodgrass. Or drunk, said Mr. Winkle. Or both, said Mr. Tupman. Come on ! said the cab-driver, sparring away Hke clock-work. Come on—all four on you. Heres a lark! shouted half-a-dozen hackney coachmen. Go to vork, Sam,—and they crowded with great glee roundthe party. Whats the row, Sam ? inquired one gentleman in blackcahco sleeves. Row! replied the cabman, what did he want my numberfori I didnt want your number, said the astonished Mr.Pickwick. What did you take it for, then 1 inq

Note About Images