Mr. Miller was saying our land was better than
Mullins's Meadows.'
'How should he know anything about it?'inquired the old lady
indignantly. 'Miller's a conceited coxcomb, and you may tell him
I said so.' Saying which, the old lady, quite unconscious that she
had spoken above a whisper, drew herself up, and looked
carving-knives at the hard-headed delinquent.
'Come, come,' said the bustling host, with a natural anxiety to
change the conversation, 'what say you to a rubber, Mr. Pickwick?'
'I should like it of all things,' replied that gentleman; 'but pray
don't make up one on my account.'
'Oh, I assure you, mother's very fond of a rubber,' said Mr.
Wardle; 'ain't you, mother?'
The old lady, who was much less deaf on this subject than on
any other, replied in the affirmative.
'Joe, Joe!' said the gentleman; 'Joe--damn that--oh, here he
is; put out the card--tables.'
The lethargic youth contrived without any additional rousing
to set out two card-tables; the one for Pope Joan, and the other
for whist. The whist-players were Mr. Pickwick and the old lady,
Mr. Miller and the fat gentleman. The round game comprised the
rest of the company.
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