The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club

’s Tale — A disagreeable Interrup

en he was suddenly checked by observing that there were present, not only Mr. Tupman and their stage-coach companion of the preceding day, but another stranger of equally singular appearance. It was a careworn-looking man, whose sallow face, and deeply-sunken eyes, were rendered still more striking than Nature had made them, by the straight black hair which hung in matted disorder half-way down his face. His eyes were almost unnaturally bright and piercing; his cheek-bones were high and prominent; and his jaws were so long and lank, t

f our friend’s here. We discovered this morning that our friend was connected with the theatre in this place, though he is not desirous to have it gener

ge man — all sorts of miseries — Dismal Jemmy, we call him on the circuit.’ Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass politely welcomed the gentleman, elegantly designated as ‘Dismal Jemmy’; and calling for b

ning to Mr. Snodgrass, who had just taken out his note-book, said in a ho

question. ‘Ah! poetry makes life what light and music do the stage — strip the one of the false emb

ir,’ replied

admiring the silken dresses of the gaudy throng; to be behind them is to be the people who make tha

unken eye of the dismal man rested on him,

— all in the Downs — no croaking — speak out — look lively.’ ‘Wil

half of it, opened the roll of paper and proceeded, partly to read, and partly to relate, the fol

ROLLER

ons of life to deserve more notice than is usually bestowed on the most ordinary vicissitudes of human nature. I have thrown these few notes together, because the subject of

lic-house had a fascination for him which he could not resist. Neglected disease and hopeless poverty were as certain to be his portion as death itself, if he persevered in the same course; yet he did persevere, and the result may be guessed. He could obtain no engagement, and he wanted bread. ‘Everybody who is at all acquainted with theatrical matters knows what a host of shabby, poverty-stricken men hang about the stage of a large establishment — not regularly engaged actors, but ballet people, procession men, tumblers, and so forth, who are taken on during the run of a pantomime, or an Easter piece, and are then discharged, until the production of some heavy spectacle occasions a

s that the ablest painter ever portrayed on canvas, never presented an appearance half so ghastly. His bloated body and shrunken legs — their deformity enhanced a hundredfold by the fantastic dress — the glassy eyes, contrasting fearfully with the thick white paint with which the face was besmeared; the grotesquely-ornamented head, trembling with paralysis, and the long skinny hands, rubbed with white chalk — all gave him a hideous and unnatural appearance, of which no description could convey an adequate idea, and which, to this day, I shudder to think of. His voice was hollow and tremulous as he took me aside, and in broken words recounted a long catalogue of s

ws and house-fronts. Pools of water had collected in the narrow and little-frequented streets, and as many of the thinly-scattered oil-lamps had been blown out by the violence of the wind, the walk was not only a comfortless, but most uncertain

d of doze, led me softly in, and placed a chair for me at the bedside. The sick man was lying with his face turned

ow cinder fire in a rusty, unfixed grate; and an old three-cornered stained table, with some medicine bottles, a broken glass, and a few other domestic articles, was drawn out before it. A little child was sleeping on a temporary bed which had been made for it on the floor, and the woman sat on a chair by it

sick man, before he was aware of my presence. In the restless attempts to procure some easy resting-place for

wife; “Mr. Hutley, that you

e seemed endeavouring to collect his thoughts for a few seconds, and then grasping me tightly by

o?” said I, addressi

re. I have starved her and the boy too; and now I am weak and helpless, Jem, she’ll murder me for it; I know she will. If you’d seen her cry, as I have, you’d know it too. Keep her off.” He relaxed his grasp, and sank back exhausted on the pillow. ‘I knew but too well what all this meant. If I could have entertained any doubt of it, for an instant, o

e?” he eager

aid I; “she sha

ge, staring eyes and pale face were close to mine; wherever I turned, they turned; and whenever I started up from my sleep, she was at the bedside looking at me.” He drew me closer to him, as h

have occurred to produce such an impression on such a man. I could say nothing i

consciousness, in which the mind wanders uneasily from scene to scene, and from place to place, without the control of reason, but still without being able to divest itself of an indescribable sense of present suffering. Finding from his incoherent wande

ustre frightful to behold. The lips were parched, and cracked in many places; the hard, dry skin glowed with a burning heat; and there was an

of a dying man. From what I had heard of the medical attendant’s opinion, I knew there was no hope for him: I was sitting by his death-bed. I saw the wasted limbs — which a few hours before ha

own weakness, and the cruelty of his persecutors. A short pause, and he shouted out a few doggerel rhymes — the last he had ever learned. He rose in bed, drew up his withered limbs, and rolled about in uncouth positions; he was acting — he was at the theatre. A minute’s silence, and he murmured the burden of some roaring song. He had reached the old house at last — how hot the room was. He had been ill, very ill, but he was well now, and happy. Fill up his glass. Who was that, that dashed it from his lips? It was the same persecutor that had followed him before. He fell back upon his pillow and moaned aloud. A short period of oblivion, and he was wandering through a tedious maze of low-arched ro

had come over his face, but consciousness had returned, for he evidently knew me. The child, who had been long since disturbed by his ravings, rose from its little bed, and ran towards its father, screaming with fright — the mother hastily caught it in her arms, lest he should injure it in the violence of his insanity; but, terrified by the alteration of his fe

k’s opinion of the foregoing anecdote. We have little doubt that we should have

tained in his hand; and had just made up his mind to speak — indeed, we have the authority of Mr. Snodgrass’

entleme

ened the world, if not the Thames, when he was thus interrupted; for he gazed sternly on the waiter’s countena

fellows,’ added Mr. Winkle, after the waiter had retired —‘officers of the 97th,

restored. The waiter returned, and u

Doctor Payne, Mr. Pickwick — Mr. Snodgrass you have seen before, my friend Mr.

rong emotion was visible on the counten

an before,’ said the Doc

’ said M

coated stranger. ‘I think I gave that person a very pressing invitation last night, which he thought proper to dec

that gentleman, at the

,’ replied Do

spot,’ murmured the owner of the

e said, addressing Mr. Pickwick, who was considerably mystified by this very unpolite b

Mr. Pickwick, ‘he i

b, or I am mistaken?’ said

t,’ responded

our club-button?’

plied the astoni

lder, as if implying some doubt of the accuracy of his recollection. The little doctor looked wrathful, but c

made that gentleman start as perceptibly as if a pin had been cunningly

irmative, looking very hard a

n,’ said the doctor, pointing

n admitte

gentlemen, whether you choose to give me your card, and to receive the treatment of a gentl

allow this matter to go any further without som

rowing of the coat; expatiated largely on its having been done ‘after dinner’; wound up with a

ppleton, who had been eyeing him with great curiosity, said wit

eplied the una

ammer. —‘He acts in the piece that the officers of the 52nd get up at the Rochester

id the dign

k; ‘allow me to suggest, that the best way of avoiding a recurrence of such scenes in future will be to be m

n a loud key, he stalked majestically after his friend, closely followed by Doctor Slammer, who said nothing, but contented himself by withering the company with a look. Rising rage and extreme bewilderment had swelled the noble breast of Mr. Pickwick, almost to the bursting of his waistcoat, during the delivery of the above defiance. He stood transfixed

nkle, Tupman — he must not peril his dis

,’ said Mr

green-coated stranger; ‘brandy– and-water — jolly old gentleman — lots of pluck — swallow this — ah! — capital stuff.’ Having previously tested the virtues of

done its work; the amiable countenance of Mr. Pick

h your notice,’ sa

not. I am ashamed to have been betrayed into this wa

bosom, occasioned possibly by the temporary abstraction of his coat — though it is scarcely reasonable to suppose that so slight a circumstance can have excited even a passing feeling of