HOW THE PICKWICKIANS MADE ANDCULTIVATED THE ACQUAINTANCE OF ACOUPLE OF NICE YOUNG MEN BELONGINGTO ONE OF THE LIBERAL PROFESSIONS; HOWTHEY DISPORTED THEMSELVES ON THE ICE;AND HOW THEIR VISIT CAME TO ACONCLUSIONell, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, as that favoured servitorentered his bed-chamber, with his warm water, onthe morning of Christmas Day, ‘still frosty?’

　　‘Water in the wash-hand basin’s a mask o’ ice, sir,’ respondedSam.

　　‘Severe weather, Sam,’ observed Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Fine time for them as is well wropped up, as the Polar bearsaid to himself, ven he was practising his skating,’ replied Mr.

　　Weller.

　　‘I shall be down in a quarter of an hour, Sam,’ said Mr.

　　Pickwick, untying his nightcap.

　　‘Wery good, sir,’ replied Sam. ‘There’s a couple o’ sawbonesdownstairs.’

　　‘A couple of what!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sitting up in bed.

　　‘A couple o’ sawbones,’ said Sam.

　　‘What’s a sawbones?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, not quite certainwhether it was a live animal, or something to eat.

　　‘What! Don’t you know what a sawbones is, sir?’ inquired Mr.

　　Weller. ‘I thought everybody know’d as a sawbones was asurgeon.’

　　‘Oh, a surgeon, eh?’ said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile.

　　‘Just that, sir,’ replied Sam. ‘These here ones as is below,though, ain’t reg’lar thoroughbred sawbones; they’re only intrainin’.’

　　‘In other words they’re medical students, I suppose?’ said Mr.

　　Pickwick.

　　Sam Weller nodded assent.

　　‘I am glad of it,’ said Mr. Pickwick, casting his nightcapenergetically on the counterpane. ‘They are fine fellows―very finefellows; with judgments matured by observation and reflection;and tastes refined by reading and study. I am very glad of it.’

　　‘They’re a-smokin’ cigars by the kitchen fire,’ said Sam.

　　‘Ah!’ observed Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his hands, ‘overflowingwith kindly feelings and animal spirits. Just what I like to see.’

　　‘And one on ’em,’ said Sam, not noticing his master’sinterruption, ‘one on ’em’s got his legs on the table, and is a-drinking brandy neat, vile the t’other one―him in the barnacles―has got a barrel o’ oysters atween his knees, which he’s a-openin’

　　like steam, and as fast as he eats ’em, he takes a aim vith the shellsat young dropsy, who’s a sittin’ down fast asleep, in the chimbleycorner.’

　　‘Eccentricities of genius, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘You mayretire.’

　　Sam did retire accordingly. Mr. Pickwick at the expiration ofthe quarter of an hour, went down to breakfast.

　　‘Here he is at last!’ said old Mr. Wardle. ‘Pickwick, this is MissAllen’s brother, Mr. Benjamin Allen. Ben we call him, and so mayyou, if you like. This gentleman is his very particular friend, Mr.―’

　　‘Mr. Bob Sawyer,’ interposed Mr. Benjamin Allen; whereuponMr. Bob Sawyer and Mr. Benjamin Allen laughed in concert.

　　Mr. Pickwick bowed to Bob Sawyer, and Bob Sawyer bowed toMr. Pickwick. Bob and his very particular friend then appliedthemselves most assiduously to the eatables before them; and Mr.

　　Pickwick had an opportunity of glancing at them both.

　　Mr. Benjamin Allen was a coarse, stout, thick-set young man,with black hair cut rather short, and a white face cut rather long.

　　He was embellished with spectacles, and wore a whiteneckerchief. Below his single-breasted black surtout, which wasbuttoned up to his chin, appeared the usual number of pepper-and-salt coloured legs, terminating in a pair of imperfectlypolished boots. Although his coat was short in the sleeves, itdisclosed no vestige of a linen wristband; and although there wasquite enough of his face to admit of the encroachment of a shirtcollar, it was not graced by the smallest approach to thatappendage. He presented, altogether, rather a mildewyappearance, and emitted a fragrant odour of full-flavoured Cubas.

　　Mr. Bob Sawyer, who was habited in a coarse, blue coat, which,without being either a greatcoat or a surtout, partook of the natureand qualities of both, had about him that sort of slovenlysmartness, and swaggering gait, which is peculiar to younggentlemen who smoke in the streets by day, shout and scream inthe same by night, call waiters by their Christian names, and dovarious other acts and deeds of an equally facetious description.

　　He wore a pair of plaid trousers, and a large, rough, double-breasted waistcoat; out of doors, he carried a thick stick with a bigtop. He eschewed gloves, and looked, upon the whole, somethinglike a dissipated Robinson Crusoe.

　　Such were the two worthies to whom Mr. Pickwick wasintroduced, as he took his seat at the breakfast-table on Christmasmorning.

　　‘Splendid morning, gentlemen,’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　Mr. Bob Sawyer slightly nodded his assent to the proposition,and asked Mr. Benjamin Allen for the mustard.

　　‘Have you come far this morning, gentlemen?’ inquired Mr.

　　Pickwick.

　　‘Blue Lion at Muggleton,’ briefly responded Mr. Allen.

　　‘You should have joined us last night,’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘So we should,’ replied Bob Sawyer, ‘but the brandy was toogood to leave in a hurry; wasn’t it, Ben?’

　　‘Certainly,’ said Mr. Benjamin Allen; ‘and the cigars were notbad, or the pork-chops either; were they, Bob?’

　　‘Decidedly not,’ said Bob. The particular friends resumed theirattack upon the breakfast, more freely than before, as if therecollection of last night’s supper had imparted a new relish to themeal.

　　‘Peg away, Bob,’ said Mr. Allen, to his companion,encouragingly.

　　‘So I do,’ replied Bob Sawyer. And so, to do him justice, he did.

　　‘Nothing like dissecting, to give one an appetite,’ said Mr. BobSawyer, looking round the table.

　　Mr. Pickwick slightly shuddered.

　　‘By the bye, Bob,’ said Mr. Allen, ‘have you finished that legyet?’

　　‘Nearly,’ replied Sawyer, helping himself to half a fowl as hespoke. ‘It’s a very muscular one for a child’s.’

　　‘Is it?’ inquired Mr. Allen carelessly.

　　‘Very,’ said Bob Sawyer, with his mouth full.

　　‘I’ve put my name down for an arm at our place,’ said Mr. Allen.

　　‘We’re clubbing for a subject, and the list is nearly full, only wecan’t get hold of any fellow that wants a head. I wish you’d take it.’

　　‘No,’ replied ‘Bob Sawyer; ‘can’t afford expensive luxuries.’

　　‘Nonsense!’ said Allen.

　　‘Can’t, indeed,’ rejoined Bob Sawyer, ‘I wouldn’t mind a brain,but I couldn’t stand a whole head.’

　　‘Hush, hush, gentlemen, pray,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘I hear theladies.’

　　As Mr. Pickwick spoke, the ladies, gallantly escorted by Messrs.

　　Snodgrass, Winkle, and Tupman, returned from an early walk.

　　‘Why, Ben!’ said Arabella, in a tone which expressed moresurprise than pleasure at the sight of her brother.

　　‘Come to take you home to-morrow,’ replied Benjamin.

　　Mr. Winkle turned pale.

　　‘Don’t you see Bob Sawyer, Arabella?’ inquired Mr. BenjaminAllen, somewhat reproachfully. Arabella gracefully held out herhand, in acknowledgment of Bob Sawyer’s presence. A thrill ofhatred struck to Mr. Winkle’s heart, as Bob Sawyer inflicted onthe proffered hand a perceptible squeeze.

　　‘Ben, dear!’ said Arabella, blushing; ‘have―have―you beenintroduced to Mr. Winkle?’

　　‘I have not been, but I shall be very happy to be, Arabella,’

　　replied her brother gravely. Here Mr. Allen bowed grimly to Mr.

　　Winkle, while Mr. Winkle and Mr. Bob Sawyer glanced mutualdistrust out of the corners of their eyes.

　　The arrival of the two new visitors, and the consequent checkupon Mr. Winkle and the young lady with the fur round her boots,would in all probability have proved a very unpleasantinterruption to the hilarity of the party, had not the cheerfulness ofMr. Pickwick, and the good humour of the host, been exerted tothe very utmost for the common weal. Mr. Winkle graduallyinsinuated himself into the good graces of Mr. Benjamin Allen,and even joined in a friendly conversation with Mr. Bob Sawyer;who, enlivened with the brandy, and the breakfast, and thetalking, gradually ripened into a state of extreme facetiousness,and related with much glee an agreeable anecdote, about theremoval of a tumour on some gentleman’s head, which heillustrated by means of an oyster-knife and a half-quartern loaf, tothe great edification of the assembled company. Then the wholetrain went to church, where Mr. Benjamin Allen fell fast asleep;while Mr. Bob Sawyer abstracted his thoughts from worldlymatters, by the ingenious process of carving his name on the seatof the pew, in corpulent letters of four inches long.

　　‘Now,’ said Wardle, after a substantial lunch, with the agreeableitems of strong beer and cherry-brandy, had been done amplejustice to, ‘what say you to an hour on the ice? We shall haveplenty of time.’

　　‘Capital!’ said Mr. Benjamin Allen.

　　‘Prime!’ ejaculated Mr. Bob Sawyer.

　　‘You skate, of course, Winkle?’ said Wardle.

　　‘Ye-yes; oh, yes,’ replied Mr. Winkle. ‘I―I―am rather out ofpractice.’

　　‘Oh, do skate, Mr. Winkle,’ said Arabella. ‘I like to see it somuch.’

　　‘Oh, it is so graceful,’ said another young lady. A third younglady said it was elegant, and a fourth expressed her opinion that itwas ‘swan-like.’

　　‘I should be very happy, I’m sure,’ said Mr. Winkle, reddening;‘but I have no skates.’

　　This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had a couple ofpair, and the fat boy announced that there were half a dozen moredownstairs; whereat Mr. Winkle expressed exquisite delight, andlooked exquisitely uncomfortable.

　　Old Wardle led the way to a pretty large sheet of ice; and the fatboy and Mr. Weller, having shovelled and swept away the snowwhich had fallen on it during the night, Mr. Bob Sawyer adjustedhis skates with a dexterity which to Mr. Winkle was perfectlymarvellous, and described circles with his left leg, and cut figuresof eight, and inscribed upon the ice, without once stopping forbreath, a great many other pleasant and astonishing devices, tothe excessive satisfaction of Mr. Pickwick, Mr. Tupman, and theladies; which reached a pitch of positive enthusiasm, when oldWardle and Benjamin Allen, assisted by the aforesaid Bob Sawyer,performed some mystic evolutions, which they called a reel.

　　All this time, Mr. Winkle, with his face and hands blue with thecold, had been forcing a gimlet into the sole of his feet, and puttinghis skates on, with the points behind, and getting the straps into avery complicated and entangled state, with the assistance of Mr.

　　Snodgrass, who knew rather less about skates than a Hindoo. Atlength, however, with the assistance of Mr. Weller, the unfortunateskates were firmly screwed and buckled on, and Mr. Winkle wasraised to his feet.

　　‘Now, then, sir,’ said Sam, in an encouraging tone; ‘off vith you,and show ’em how to do it.’

　　‘Stop, Sam, stop!’ said Mr. Winkle, trembling violently, andclutching hold of Sam’s arms with the grasp of a drowning man.

　　‘How slippery it is, Sam!’

　　‘Not an uncommon thing upon ice, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.

　　‘Hold up, sir!’

　　This last observation of Mr. Weller’s bore reference to ademonstration Mr. Winkle made at the instant, of a frantic desireto throw his feet in the air, and dash the back of his head on theice.

　　‘These―these―are very awkward skates; ain’t they, Sam?’

　　inquired Mr. Winkle, staggering.

　　‘I’m afeerd there’s a orkard gen’l’m’n in ’em, sir,’ replied Sam.

　　‘Now, Winkle,’ cried Mr. Pickwick, quite unconscious that therewas anything the matter. ‘Come; the ladies are all anxiety.’

　　‘Yes, yes,’ replied Mr. Winkle, with a ghastly smile. ‘I’mcoming.’

　　‘Just a-goin’ to begin,’ said Sam, endeavouring to disengagehimself. ‘Now, sir, start off!’

　　‘Stop an instant, Sam,’ gasped Mr. Winkle, clinging mostaffectionately to Mr. Weller. ‘I find I’ve got a couple of coats athome that I don’t want, Sam. You may have them, Sam.’

　　‘Thank’ee, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.

　　‘Never mind touching your hat, Sam,’ said Mr. Winkle hastily.

　　‘You needn’t take your hand away to do that. I meant to havegiven you five shillings this morning for a Christmas box, Sam. I’llgive it you this afternoon, Sam.’

　　‘You’re wery good, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.

　　‘Just hold me at first, Sam; will you?’ said Mr. Winkle. ‘There―that’s right. I shall soon get in the way of it, Sam. Not too fast,Sam; not too fast.’

　　Mr. Wink............