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Updated: May 25, 2025
Pickwick; and, after minutely inspecting that gentleman's appearance, from the crown of his hat to the lowest button of his gaiters, replied emphatically 'No! 'Nor any gentleman of the name of Snodgrass? inquired Mr. Pickwick. 'No! 'Nor Winkle? 'No! 'My friends have not arrived to-day, Sir, said Mr. Pickwick. 'We will dine alone, then. Show us a private room, waiter.
Winkle had been shaken greatly shaken by the proceedings of the morning. 'Are you a cricketer? inquired Mr. Wardle of the marksman. At any other time, Mr. Winkle would have replied in the affirmative. He felt the delicacy of his situation, and modestly replied, 'No. 'Are you, sir? inquired Mr. Snodgrass. 'I was once upon a time, replied the host; 'but I have given it up now.
'All right, replied Mr. Winkle faintly. 'Let 'em go, cried the hostler. 'Hold him in, sir; and away went the chaise, and the saddle-horse, with Mr. Pickwick on the box of the one, and Mr. Winkle on the back of the other, to the delight and gratification of the whole inn-yard. 'What makes him go sideways? said Mr. Snodgrass in the bin, to Mr. Winkle in the saddle.
Frederick Snodgrass. The "interstices," as Mr. Bagshaw called them, to be filled up by the amusing talents of the elder Wrench and Uncle John's friend. And, lastly, that the company do assemble at Mr. Bagshaw's on the morning of the 24th of August, at ten o'clock precisely, in order to have the advantage of the tide both ways. Three days prior to the important 24th, Mr.
Snodgrass, in whose bosom a blaze of poetry was rapidly bursting forth, 'to see the gallant defenders of their country drawn up in brilliant array before its peaceful citizens; their faces beaming not with warlike ferocity, but with civilised gentleness; their eyes flashing not with the rude fire of rapine or revenge, but with the soft light of humanity and intelligence. Mr.
Snodgrass bowed again, looked into the crown of his hat, and stepped towards the door. 'Stop! shouted Wardle. 'Why, in the name of all that's 'Inflammable, mildly suggested Mr. Pickwick, who thought something worse was coming. 'Well that's inflammable, said Wardle, adopting the substitute; 'couldn't you say all this to me in the first instance? 'Or confide in me? added Mr. Pickwick.
'So have I, said the stranger. 'Epic poem ten thousand lines revolution of July composed it on the spot Mars by day, Apollo by night bang the field-piece, twang the lyre. 'You were present at that glorious scene, sir? said Mr. Snodgrass.
Professor Uriah Snodgrass had dropped his valise on the doorstep, and the impact had caused it to open, thereby liberating a number of toads and lizards which were crawling about the steps. In his hand the scientist held a large magnifying glass, through which he was staring at something on the arm of the servant.
Mr. Winkle kissed the young lady with the black eyes, and Mr. Snodgrass kissed Emily; and Mr. Weller, not being particular about the form of being under the mistletoe, kissed Emma and the other female servants, just as he caught them.
Snodgrass supported the other; and Mr. Wardle's sister suffered under such a dreadful state of nervous alarm, that Mr. Tupman found it indispensably necessary to put his arm round her waist, to keep her up at all. Everybody was excited, except the fat boy, and he slept as soundly as if the roaring of cannon were his ordinary lullaby.
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