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Slurk, of course, read the GAZETTE; and each gentleman audibly expressed his contempt at the other's compositions by bitter laughs and sarcastic sniffs; whence they proceeded to more open expressions of opinion, such as 'absurd, 'wretched, 'atrocity, 'humbug, 'knavery', 'dirt, 'filth, 'slime, 'ditch-water, and other critical remarks of the like nature. Both Mr. Bob Sawyer and Mr.
John Slurk, my old pardner, has a little son who has only bin to skool two months, and yet he exhibertid his father's performin' Bear in the show all last summer. I hope they pay partic'lar 'tention to Spelin in these Skools, because if a man can't Spel wel he's of no 'kount. I ment to have allooded to the Grate Orgin in this letter, but I haven't seen it. Mr.
"Now some demon of discord," writes Dickens, "flying over the 'Saracen's Head' at the moment," prompted Bob Sawyer to suggest to his friends that "it wouldn't be a bad notion to have a cigar by the kitchen fire." They all agreed that it was a good idea, and forth they went only to find, to their surprise, Mr. Slurk there before them deep in the study of some newspaper.
'Did you say brandy-and-water, Sir? said the landlord, venturing a hint. 'Rum, said Mr. Slurk, turning fiercely upon him. 'Have you got a fire anywhere? 'We can light one directly, Sir, said the landlord. 'Which will throw out no heat until it is bed-time, interrupted Mr. Slurk. 'Is there anybody in the kitchen? Not a soul. There was a beautiful fire.
'You will find very little to repay you for your trouble in this contemptible THING, sir, replied Slurk, bestowing a Satanic frown on Pott. 'You shall have this presently, said Pott, looking up, pale with rage, and quivering in his speech, from the same cause. 'Ha! ha! you will be amused with this FELLOW'S audacity.
Pickwick, looking about him for fear he should tread on some overgrown black beetle, or dropsical spider. 'That reptile, whispered Pott, catching Mr. Pickwick by the arm, and pointing towards the stranger. 'That reptile Slurk, of the INDEPENDENT! 'Perhaps we had better retire, whispered Mr. Pickwick. 'Never, Sir, rejoined Pott, pot-valiant in a double sense 'never. With these words, Mr.
To this meeting he had been brought with some difficulty just as Pott the "Pot-valiant," declined to "serve him so," i.e., Slurk; being restrained by the laws of his country. He was an assistant editor to the "Standard," and had furnished scurrilites to the "John Bull."
Now, some demon of discord, flying over the Saracen's Head at that moment, on casting down his eyes in mere idle curiosity, happened to behold Slurk established comfortably by the kitchen fire, and Pott slightly elevated with wine in another room; upon which the malicious demon, darting down into the last-mentioned apartment with inconceivable rapidity, passed at once into the head of Mr.
Ben Allen had beheld these symptoms of rivalry and hatred, with a degree of delight which imparted great additional relish to the cigars at which they were puffing most vigorously. The moment they began to flag, the mischievous Mr. Bob Sawyer, addressing Slurk with great politeness, said 'Will you allow me to look at your paper, Sir, when you have quite done with it?
Ben Allen. 'Serve him so, sir! reiterated Slurk, in a loud voice. Mr. Pott darted a look of contempt, which might have withered an anchor. 'Serve him so, sir! reiterated Slurk, in a louder voice than before. 'I will not, sir, rejoined Pott. 'Oh, you won't, won't you, sir? said Mr. Slurk, in a taunting manner; 'you hear this, gentlemen!
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