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Strange to say, the greatest success of the evening was the one least expected the character of Mrs. Cluppins. One of the middies who took the part, was splendid, and evoked roars of laughter.
Hows'ever, there is law for us women, mis'rable creeturs as they'd make us, if they could; and that your master will find out, young man, to his cost, afore he's six months older. At this consolatory reflection, Mrs. Cluppins bridled up, and smiled at Mrs. Sanders, who smiled back again. 'The action's going on, and no mistake, thought Sam, as Mrs. Bardell re-entered with the receipt.
The lady as has taken the lodgings! ejaculated Mrs. Cluppins. Master Bardell put his hands deeper down into his pockets, and nodded exactly thirty-five times, to imply that it was the lady-lodger, and no other. 'Bless us! said Mrs. Cluppins. 'It's quite a party! 'Ah, if you knew what was in the cupboard, you'd say so, replied Master Bardell. 'What is there, Tommy? said Mrs.
In recalling the scene in its history which associates it with The Pickwick Papers, we remember that Mrs. Bardell and her friends, Mrs. Sanders, Mrs. Cluppins, Mr. and Mrs. Raddle, Mrs. Rogers and Master Tommy Bardell, bent on having a day out, had taken the Hampstead Stage to the "Spaniards" Tea Gardens, "where the luckless Mr.
Cluppins, Sam Weller, one after another appearing for a brief interval, and then disappearing for ever, each of them a delightfully humorous, one of them in particular, the Judge, a simply incomparable impersonation. Then came the moment of parting between the great Author and his audience that last audience who were there as the representatives of his immense public in both hemispheres.
He wanted to swear to a thousand things that other people had told him, for of himself he knew nothing, and though the defense never interposed, the court did. It was all hearsay, and he was finally excused. Mrs. Burton appeared, but like Mrs. Cluppins of blessed memory, had more to say of her domestic and personal affairs than the allegations against the accused.
'Ah, poor thing! replied Mrs. Sanders. Sam said nothing. He saw they were coming to the subject. 'I raly cannot contain myself, said Mrs. Cluppins, 'when I think of such perjury. I don't wish to say anything to make you uncomfortable, young man, but your master's an old brute, and I wish I had him here to tell him so. 'I wish you had, said Sam.
Bardell's back one pair of stairs, on one particular morning in July last, when she was dusting Pickwick's apartment? 'Yes, my Lord and jury, I do, replied Mrs. Cluppins. 'Mr. Pickwick's sitting-room was the first-floor front, I believe? 'Yes, it were, Sir, replied Mrs. Cluppins. 'What were you doing in the back room, ma'am? inquired the little judge. 'My Lord and jury, said Mrs.
Bardell and her two friends were getting on very well, also, in a little quiet conversation about and concerning all their particular friends and acquaintance; when Master Bardell came back from answering the door, and delivered the message intrusted to him by Mr. Samuel Weller. 'Mr. Pickwick's servant! said Mrs. Bardell, turning pale. 'Bless my soul! said Mrs. Cluppins.
He read as much of his notes to the jury as he could decipher on so short a notice, and made running-comments on the evidence as he went along. If Mrs. Bardell were right, it was perfectly clear that Mr. Pickwick was wrong, and if they thought the evidence of Mrs. Cluppins worthy of credence they would believe it, and, if they didn't, why, they wouldn't.
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