' The most, however, was nothing at all; so, after a
profound silence of some minutes' duration, he said,--
'Serpent, Sir! Serpent, Mr. Pott! What can you mean, Sir?--
this is pleasantry.'
'Pleasantry, sir!' exclaimed Pott, with a motion of the hand,
indicative of a strong desire to hurl the Britannia metal teapot at
the head of the visitor. 'Pleasantry, sir!--But--no, I will be calm;
I will be calm, Sir;' in proof of his calmness, Mr. Pott flung
himself into a chair, and foamed at the mouth.
'My dear sir,' interposed Mr. Winkle.
'DEAR Sir!' replied Pott. 'How dare you address me, as dear Sir,
Sir? How dare you look me in the face and do it, sir?'
'Well, Sir, if you come to that,' responded Mr. Winkle, 'how
dare you look me in the face, and call me a serpent, sir?'
'Because you are one,' replied Mr. Pott.
'Prove it, Sir,' said Mr. Winkle warmly. 'Prove it.'
A malignant scowl passed over the profound face of the editor,
as he drew from his pocket the INDEPENDENT of that morning; and
laying his finger on a particular paragraph, threw the journal
across the table to Mr. Winkle.
That gentleman took it up, and read as follows:--
'Our obscure and filthy contemporary, in some disgusting
observations on the recent election for this borough, has presumed
to violate the hallowed sanctity of private life, and to refer,
in a manner not to be misunderstood, to the personal affairs of
our late candidate--aye, and notwithstanding his base defeat, we
will add, our future member, Mr.
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