Winkle

“ Snodgrass. ‘Be steady, and wing him.’
It occurred to Mr. Winkle that this advice was very like that which bystanders invariably give to the smallest boy in a street fight, namely, ‘Go in, and win’—an admirable thing to recommend, if you only know how to do it. He took off his cloak, however, in silence—it always took a long time to undo that cloak—and accepted the pistol. The seconds retired, the gentleman on the camp-stool did the same, and the belligerents approached each other.
Mr. Winkle was always remarkable for extreme humanity. ”

“ Can one not well see her? She steps over the stile and her shin defines itself through her balbriggan stocking. She is a knock-kneed girl, and she looks at Mr. Winkle with that sensual regard that sometimes comes when the wind is north-west. Yes, it is a north-west wind that is blowing over this landscape that Hals or Winchoven might have painted—no, Winchoven would have fumbled it with rose-madder, but Hals would have done it well. Hals would have approved—would he not?—the pollard aspens, these pollard aspens deciduous and wistful, which the rime makes glistening. ”

“ Winkle, who was holding his gun as if he wished his coat pocket to save him the trouble of pulling the trigger, to Mr. Tupman, who was holding his as if he were afraid of it—as there is no earthly reason to doubt he really was.
“My friends are not much in the way of this sort of thing yet, Martin,” said Wardle, noticing the look. “Live and learn, you know. They’ll be good shots one of these days. I beg my friend Winkle’s pardon, though; he has had some practice.” ”

“ Winkle. With an accuracy which no degree of dexterity or practice could have insured, that unfortunate gentleman bore swiftly down into the centre of the reel, at the very moment when Mr. Bob Sawyer was performing a flourish of unparalleled beauty. Mr. Winkle struck wildly against him, and with a loud crash they both fell heavily down. Mr. Pickwick ran to the spot. Bob Sawyer had risen to his feet, but Mr. Winkle was far too wise to do anything of the kind, in skates. He was seated on the ice, making spasmodic efforts to smile; but anguish was depicted on every lineament of his countenance. ”

“ Winkle that a reporter for the Screamer and five others from as many different papers were within hearing, whereupon Mr. Winkle became more and more excited, and talked with great volubility to each and every one of the young men as they gathered about him. "Adds Blasphemy to His Other Crimes," wrote one of them as his headline, and then John Boler interfered.
"Look here, boys," said he pleasantly, but with a ring of determination in his voice, "you just let Mr. Winkle alone. This sort of thing is all new to him, and he had no more to do with that girl than if his room had been in Texas." ”

“ There are ladies with ‘em; cover me up with something. Stand before me!’ roared Mr. Winkle. But the chairmen were too much exhausted with laughing to afford him the slightest assistance, and the ladies were every moment approaching nearer and nearer.
Mr. Winkle gave a last hopeless knock; the ladies were only a few doors off. He threw away the extinguished candle, which, all this time he had held above his head, and fairly bolted into the sedan-chair where Mrs. Dowler was. ”

“ He's got the fiction part of it all right and the room in which Winkle slept, and the landlord, so I am told, still keeps the sheets and pillow-cases in lavender and he has locked up in his safe the pen and ink-well that Winkle used in writing his letter to his father. He'll show it to you if you ask him—that is, he would have shown it to you had you asked him in time. He's dead now—been dead over fifty years. ”

“ Winkle, I presume?"
"My name is Winkle, sir."
"You will not be surprised, sir, when I inform you that I have called here this morning on behalf of my friend, Doctor Slammer, of the Ninety-seventh."
"Doctor Slammer!" said Mr. Winkle.
"Doctor Slammer. He begged me to express his opinion that your conduct of last evening was of a description which no gentleman could endure: and (he added) which no one gentleman would pursue towards another."
Mr. Winkle's astonishment was too real, and too evident, to escape the observation of Doctor Slammer's friend ”

“ Winkle, with no reluctance in the world, but only seemingly with reluctance, answers the inquiry as to whether he is a particular friend of Pickwick, “Yes, I am!”—“Yes, you are!” said Mr. Skimpin (audibly to the court, but as if it were only to himself) . “And why couldn't you say that at once, sir? Perhaps you know the plaintiff, too—eh, Mr. Winkle?” “I don't know her; I've seen her!” “Oh, you don't know her, but you've seen her! Now have the goodness to tell the gentlemen of the jury what you mean by that, Mr. Winkle.” ”

“ If Quintin Ferrars meant anything by his 'golden links,' it was that; but I really think it was a chance shot, and Mrs. Van Winkle—"
"What about her?" said Sir Mordaunt. He had come up, unperceived by Mrs. Courtly; and she stopped short on seeing him. "I think that woman is the greatest sport I've met for a week of Sundays! How she does blow her own trumpet! I never can be dull in New York as long as she is there. What sort of fellow is the male Winkle, Mrs. Courtly?"
"A very nice man, but he doesn't amount to much. He is a Van. ”

“ Winkle, angrily.
‘Never mind, Sir, never mind,’ replied the long gamekeeper; ‘I’ve no family myself, sir; and this here boy’s mother will get something handsome from Sir Geoffrey, if he’s killed on his land. Load again, Sir, load again.’
‘Take away his gun,’ cried Mr. Pickwick from the barrow, horror–stricken at the long man’s dark insinuations. ‘Take away his gun, do you hear, somebody?’
Nobody, however, volunteered to obey the command; and Mr. Winkle, after darting a rebellious glance at Mr. Pickwick, reloaded his gun, and proceeded onwards with the rest. ”

“ Weller. "Hold up, sir!"
This last observation of Mr. Weller's bore reference to a demonstration Mr. Winkle made at the instant, of a frantic desire to throw his feet in the air, and dash the back of his head on the ice.
"These—these—are very awkward skates; ain't they, Sam?" inquired Mr. Winkle, staggering.
"I'm afeerd there's a orkard gen'l'm'n in 'em, sir," replied Sam.
"Now, Winkle," cried Mr. Pickwick, quite unconscious that there was anything the matter. "Come; the ladies are all anxiety."
"Yes, yes," replied Mr. Winkle, with a ghastly smile. "I'm coming." ”

“ For some time Rip lay musing on this scene; evening was gradually advancing; the mountains began to throw their long blue shadows over the valleys; he saw that it would be dark long before he could reach the village, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he thought of encountering the terrors of Dame Van Winkle. ”

“ The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,
And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well;
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well.
[Pg 281]
MR. WINKLE PUTS ON SKATES. BY CHARLES DICKENS.
"Now," said Wardle, after a substantial lunch, "what say you to an hour on the ice? We shall have plenty of time."
"Capital!" said Mr. Benjamin Allen.
"Prime!" ejaculated Mr. Bob Sawyer.
"You skate, of course, Winkle?" said Wardle.
"Ye-yes; O yes," replied Mr. Winkle. "I—I—am rather out of practice!" ”

“ Poor little chap! He had stood there on the chance of picking up a stray winkle, and even when the first fell into his possession, groped for on the greasy-feeling pavement, he had bravely checked the impulse to make it his own, and had asked the shop-keeper if she wanted it back. From instant observation, I concluded that the question had gone to her heart, for one or two winkles rolled off into the street just then, in what seemed a preventible way, as she served a juvenile customer. ”

“ Winkle's or even Sam Weller's features. Neither their mouths, eyes, or noses, could be put in distinct shape. We have only the general air and tone and suggestion—as of persons seen afar off in a crowd. Yet they are always recognizable. This is art, and it gave the artist a greater freedom in his treatment. Now when an illustrator like the late Frederick Barnard came, he drew his Jingle, his Pickwick, Weller, and Winkle, with all their features, in quite a literal and particular fashion—the features were minutely and carefully brought out, with the result that they seem almost strange to us. ”

“ The working-party, men, women and horses, arrived while Olive was thus engaged. Mary Winkle instantly sat down and leaned against a tree and threw off her sunbonnet. Her thin black hair was matted down to her temples, her cheeks were yellow, and her eyes looked dull. Madame also took off her hat and veil and shook up the coil of hair on her head with a sigh of relief.
“Does your head ache too?” said Mary Winkle wearily.
46“Not in the least,” replied Madame. “A sunbonnet is a bad shelter against heat. You should wear a good hat, it is far better.” ”

“ Winkle.
‘No, no, not in Bristol,’ replied Mr. Ben Allen, jerking his thumb over his right shoulder; ‘over that way—down there. But, hush, here’s Bob. Not a word, my dear friend, not a word.’
Short as this conversation was, it roused in Mr. Winkle the highest degree of excitement and anxiety. The suspected prior attachment rankled in his heart. Could he be the object of it? Could it be for him that the fair Arabella had looked scornfully on the sprightly Bob Sawyer, or had he a successful rival? He determined to see her, cost what it might ”

“ Winkle’s ear.
“Oh, certainly, depend upon me,” said that gentleman aloud.
“Thankee, sir. You won’t forget, sir?” said Sam.
“Of course not,” replied Mr. Winkle.
“Wish you luck, sir,” said Sam, touching his hat. “I should very much liked to ha’ joined you, sir; but the gov’nor o’ course is pairamount.”
“It is very much to your credit that you remain here,” said Mr. Winkle. With these words they disappeared down-stairs.
“Very extraordinary,” said Mr. Pickwick, going back into his room, and seating himself at the table in a musing attitude. “What can that young man be going to do?” ”

“ Now Mr. Winkle had opened his eyes, and his ears too, when he heard his adversary call out for a cessation of hostilities; and perceiving by what he had afterwards said, that there was, beyond all question, some mistake in the matter, he at once foresaw the increase of reputation he should inevitably acquire by concealing the real motive of his coming out: he therefore stepped boldly forward, and said—
"I am not the person. I know it."
"Then, that," said the man with the camp-stool, "is an affront to Dr. Slammer, and a sufficient reason for proceeding immediately." ”

“ Winkle," explained the genial hotel man, "and you are an older man than either the doctor or I, so I thought— It just struck me that she might feel— That you might like— Oh, damn it, would you like to go up to see her? We are going now. A clergyman has called, and if she wants to see him we shall not stay but a minute; but as there is no woman about, as she is so alone, I thought perhaps she might like to have an older man come with us, for she seems to be a very sensitive girl. She has been silent about herself so far ”

“ Winkle, who had been for some seconds scratching his nose with the brim of his hat, in a penitent manner, did; whereupon Mr. Pickwick slapped him on the back several times, and then shook hands heartily with Perker, who, not to be behind–hand in the compliments of the occasion, saluted both the bride and the pretty housemaid with right good–will, and, having wrung Mr, Winkle’s hand most cordially, wound up his demonstrations of joy by taking snuff enough to set any half–dozen men with ordinarily–constructed noses, a–sneezing for life. ”

“ Mr. Winkle was always remarkable for extreme humanity. It is conjectured that his unwillingness to hurt a fellow-creature intentionally was the cause of his shutting his eyes when he arrived at the fatal spot; and that the circumstance of his eyes being closed, prevented his observing the very extraordinary and unaccountable demeanour of Doctor Slammer. That gentleman started, stared, retreated, rubbed his eyes, stared again; and finally shouted “Stop, stop!”
“What’s all this?” said Doctor Slammer, as his friend and Mr. Snodgrass came running up. “That’s not the man.” ”

“ Mr. Winkle, thus admonished, abruptly altered his position, and in so doing, contrived to bring the barrel into pretty smart contact with Mr. Weller’s head.
‘Hollo!’ said Sam, picking up his hat, which had been knocked off, and rubbing his temple. ‘Hollo, sir! if you comes it this vay, you’ll fill one o’ them bags, and something to spare, at one fire.’
Here the leather-legginged boy laughed very heartily, and then tried to look as if it was somebody else, whereat Mr. Winkle frowned majestically.
‘Where did you tell the boy to meet us with the snack, Martin?’ inquired Wardle. ”

“ Winkle, “I must stop here two or three days; and more than that, Sam, you must stop here too, to assist me in gaining an interview with a young lady—Miss Allen, Sam; you remember her—whom I must and will see before I leave Bristol.”
But in reply to each of these positions, Sam shook his head with great firmness, and energetically replied, “It can’t be done.”
After a great deal of argument and representation on the part of Mr. Winkle, however, and a full disclosure of what had passed in the interview with Dowler, Sam began to waver ”