Serjeant Buzfuz paused in this place, to see whether the
jury smiled at his joke; but as nobody took it but the greengrocer,
whose sensitiveness on the subject was very probably occasioned
by his having subjected a chaise-cart to the process in question
on that identical morning, the learned Serjeant considered it
advisable to undergo a slight relapse into the dismals before he
concluded.
'But enough of this, gentlemen,' said Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz, 'it
is difficult to smile with an aching heart; it is ill jesting when our
deepest sympathies are awakened. My client's hopes and prospects
are ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation
is gone indeed. The bill is down--but there is no tenant. Eligible
single gentlemen pass and repass-but there is no invitation for
to inquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the
house; even the voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are
disregarded when his mother weeps; his "alley tors" and his
"commoneys" are alike neglected; he forgets the long familiar
cry of "knuckle down," and at tip-cheese, or odd and even, his
hand is out. But Pickwick, gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless
destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell Street--
Pickwick who has choked up the well, and thrown ashes on the
sward--Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with his heartless
tomato sauce and warming-pans--Pickwick still rears his head
with unblushing effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin
he has made.
Pages:
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857