Chapter 42

CHAPTER XLII
ILLUSTRATIVE, LIKE THE PRECEDING ONE, OF THE OLD
PROVERB, THAT ADVERSITY BRINGS A MAN ACQUAINTED
WITH STRANGE BEDFELLOWS--LIKEWISE CONTAINING Mr.
PICKWICK'S EXTRAORDINARY AND STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT
TO Mr. SAMUEL WELLER

When Mr. Pickwick opened his eyes next morning, the first object
upon which they rested was Samuel Weller, seated upon a small
black portmanteau, intently regarding, apparently in a condition
of profound abstraction, the stately figure of the dashing Mr.
Smangle; while Mr. Smangle himself, who was already partially
dressed, was seated on his bedstead, occupied in the desperately
hopeless attempt of staring Mr. Weller out of countenance. We
say desperately hopeless, because Sam, with a comprehensive gaze
which took in Mr. Smangle's cap, feet, head, face, legs, and
whiskers, all at the same time, continued to look steadily on,
with every demonstration of lively satisfaction, but with no
more regard to Mr. Smangle's personal sentiments on the subject
than he would have displayed had he been inspecting a wooden
statue, or a straw-embowelled Guy Fawkes.

'Well; will you know me again?' said Mr. Smangle, with a frown.

'I'd svear to you anyveres, Sir,' replied Sam cheerfully.

'Don't be impertinent to a gentleman, Sir,' said Mr. Smangle.

'Not on no account,' replied Sam. 'if you'll tell me wen he
wakes, I'll be upon the wery best extra-super behaviour!' This
observation, having a remote tendency to imply that Mr.
Smangle was no gentleman, kindled his ire.

'Mivins!' said Mr. Smangle, with a passionate air.

'What's the office?' replied that gentleman from his couch.

'Who the devil is this fellow?'

"Gad,' said Mr. Mivins, looking lazily out from under the
bed-clothes, 'I ought to ask YOU that. Hasn't he any business here?'

'No,' replied Mr. Smangle.
'Then knock him downstairs, and tell him not to presume to
get up till I come and kick him,' rejoined Mr. Mivins; with this
prompt advice that excellent gentleman again betook himself to slumber.

The conversation exhibiting these unequivocal symptoms of
verging on the personal, Mr. Pickwick deemed it a fit point at
which to interpose.

'Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Sir,' rejoined that gentleman.

'Has anything new occurred since last night?'

'Nothin' partickler, sir,' replied Sam, glancing at Mr. Smangle's
whiskers; 'the late prewailance of a close and confined atmosphere
has been rayther favourable to the growth of veeds, of an
alarmin' and sangvinary natur; but vith that 'ere exception
things is quiet enough.'

'I shall get up,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'give me some clean things.'
Whatever hostile intentions Mr. Smangle might have