from the windows of the Town Arms Inn, and bills were posted in every sash, intimating, in gigantic letters, that the Honourable Samuel Slumkey's Committee sat there daily. A crowd of idlers were assembled in the road, looking at a hoarse man in the balcony, who was apparently talking himself very red in the face in Mr. Slumkey's behalf; but the force and point of whose arguments were impaired by the perpetual beating of four large drums which Mr. Fizkin's committee had stationed at the street corner. There was a busy little man beside him, though, who took off his hat at intervals and motioned to the people to cheer, which they regularly did, most enthusiastically; and as the red-faced gentleman went on talking till he was redder in the face than ever, it seemed to answer his purpose quite as well as if any body had heard him.

"The Pickwickians had no sooner dismounted, than they were surrounded by a branch mob of the honest and independent, who forthwith set up three deafening cheers, which being responded to by the main body (for it's not at all necessary for a crowd to know what they are cheering about) swelled into a tremendous roar of triumph, which stopped even the red-faced man in the balcony.

""Hurrah! shouted the mob in conclusion.

""One cheer more,' screamed the little fugleman in the balcony; and out shouted the

mob again, as if lungs were cast iron, with steel works.

""Slumkey for ever!' roared the honest and independent.
""Slumkey for ever!" echoed Mr. Pickwick, taking off his hat.
"No Fizkin,' roared the crowd.

""Certainly not,' shouted Mr. Pickwick.

""Hurrah! And then there was another roaring, like that of a whole menagerie when the elephant has rung the bell for the cold meat."

The following is rich in humor. It is a perfect picture of the small trickery of vulgar politicians, and the pomposity of an ignorant partisan editor, of the 'Little Pedlington Weekly Observer' school. Mr. Perker, to whom the venerable Pickwick is about to be introduced, it should be premised, is the Hon. Mr. Slumkey's agent, and chief manager of his political interests:

"So you have carried your intention into effect. You have come down here to see an election- eh??

""Mr. Pickwick replied in the affirmative.

""Spirited contest, my dear Sir,' said the little man.

"I am delighted to hear it,' said Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his hands; 'I like to see sturdy patriotism, on whatever side it is called forth; - and so it 's a spirited contest?'

"Oh yes,' said the little man, 'very much so indeed. We have opened all the public houses in the place, and left our adversary nothing but the beer-shops - masterly stroke of policy that, my dear Sir, eh?" - and the little man smiled complacently, and took a large pinch of snuff.

And what are the probabilities as to the result of the contest?" inquired Mr. Pickwick.

'Fiz

""Why doubtful, my dear Sir; rather doubtful as yet,' replied the little man. kin's people have got three-and-thirty voters in the lock-up coach-house at the White

Hart.

"In the coach-house!' said Mr. Pickwick, considerably astonished by this second stroke of policy.

""They keep 'em locked up there, till they want 'em,' resumed the little man. 'The effect of that is, you see, to prevent our getting at them; and even if we could, it would be of no use, for they keep them very drunk on purpose. Smart fellow Fizkin's agent very smart fellow indeed."

Mr. Pickwick stared, but said nothing.

""We are pretty confident, though,' said Mr. Perker, sinking his voice almost to a whisper. We had a little tea-party here, last night-five-and-forty women, my dear Sir and gave every one of 'em a green parasol when they went away.'

""A parasol!'" said Mr. Pickwick.

""Fact, my dear Sir, fact. Five-and-forty green parasols, at seven and six-pence apiece. All women like finery - extraordinary the effect of those parasols. Secured all their husbands, and half their brothers - beats stockings, and flannel, and all that sort of thing, hollow. My idea, my dear Sir, entirely. Hail, rain, or sunshine, you can't walk half a dozen yards up the street, without encountering half a dozen green parasols." "Here the little man indulged in a convulsion of mirth, which was only checked by the entrance of a third party.

"This was a tall, thin man, with a sandy-colored head inclined to baldness, and a face in which solemn importance was blended with a look of unfathomable profundity. He was dressed in a long brown surtout, with a black cloth waistcoat, and drab-trousers. A double eye-glass dangled at his waistcoat; and on his head he wore a very lowcrowned hat, with a broad brim. The new comer was introduced to Mr. Pickwick as Mr. Pott, the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette. After a few preliminary remarks, Mr. Pott turned round to Mr. Pickwick, and said with solemnity:

""This contest excites great interest in the metropolis, Sir?'

""I believe it does,' said Mr. Pick wick.

""To which I have reason to know,' said Pott, looking toward Mr. Perker for corroboration, 'to which I have reason to know my article of last Saturday in some degree contributed.'

""Not the least doubt of that,' said the little man. "The press is a mighty engine, Sir,' said Pott.

Mr. Pickwick yielded his fullest assent to the proposition.

""But I trust, Sir,' said Pott, 'that I have never abused the enormous power I wield. I trust, Sir, that I have never pointed the noble instrument which is placed in my hands, against the sacred bosom of private life, or the tender breast of individual reputation; I trust, Sir, that I have devoted my energies to - to endeavors - humble they may be, humble I know they are - to instil those principles of - which are -'

"Here the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette appearing to ramble, Mr. Pickwick came to his relief, and said:

""Certainly.'

""And what, Sir - said Pott-'what Sir, let me ask you, as an impartial man, is the state of the public mind in London, with reference to my contest with the Independent?' ""Greatly excited, no doubt,' interposed Mr. Perker, with a look of slyness which was very likely accidental.

""That contest,' said Pott, 'shall be prolonged so long as I have health and strength, and that portion of talent with which I am gifted. From that contest, Sir, although it may unsettle men's minds and excite their feelings, and render them incapable for the discharge of the every-day duties of ordinary life; from that contest, Sir, I will never shrink, till I have set my heel upon the Eatanswill Independent. I wish the people of London, and the people of this country to know, Sir, that they may rely upon me; that I will not desert them; that I am resolved to stand by them, Sir, to the last.'

""Your conduct is most noble, Sir,' said Mr. Pickwick; and he grasped the hand of the magnanimous Pott.

""You are, Sir, I perceive, a man of sense and talent,' said Mr. Pott, almost breathless with the vehemence of his patriotic declaration. 'I am most happy, Sir, to make the acquaintance of such a man.' "

sense

Sam Weller, the illustrious Pickwick's illustrious servant - an original in every thus replies to a remark of wonder and surprise on the part of his master, that such strange tricks upon independent voters should be practised by the people of Eatanswill:

""Strange practices, these,' said Mr. Pickwick, half speaking to himself, and half addressing Sam. ""Not half so strange as a miraculous circumstance as happened to my own father, at an election-time, in this werry place, Sir,' replied Sam.

""What was that?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

""Why he drove a coach down here once,' said Sam; "Lection time came on, and he was engaged by vun party to bring down woters from London. Night afore he was a going to drive up, committee on t'other side sends for him quietly, and away he goes with the messenger, who shows him in; - large room - lots of gen'l'm'n - heaps of papers, pens and ink, and all that 'ere. 'Ah, Mr. Weller,' says the gen'l'm'n in the chair, 'glad to see you, Sir; how are you?' - Werry well, thank'ee, Sir,' says my father; I hope you're pretty middlin,' says he - 'Pretty well, thank'ee, Sir,' says the gen'l'm'n; 'sit down, Mr. Weller-pray sit down, Sir.' So my father sits down, and he and the gen'l'm'n looks werry hard at each other. 'You don't remember me?' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Can't say I do,' says my father. 'Oh, I know you,' says the gen'l'm'n; 'know'd you ven you was a boy,' says he. 'Well, I don't remember you,' says my father. 'That's werry odd,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Werry,' says my father. 'You must have a bad mem'ry, Mr. Weller,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Well, it is a werry bad 'un,' says my father. 'I thought so,' says the gen'l'm'n. So then they pours him out a glass o' wine, and gammons him about driving, and gets him into a reg'lar good humor, and at last shoves a twenty pound note in his hand. 'It's a werry bad road betweent his and London,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Here and there it is a werry heavy road,' says my father. "Specially near the canal, I think,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Nasty bit, that 'ere,' says my father. Well, Mr. Weller,' says the gen'l'm'n, 'you're a werry good whip, and can do what you like with your horses, we know. We're all werry fond o' you, Mr. Weller, so in case you should have an accident when you're a bringing these here woters down, and should tip 'em over into the canal vithout hurtin' 'em, this is for yourself,' says he. Gen'l'm'n, you're werry kind,' says my father, 'and I'll drink your health in another glass of wine,' says he; vich he did, and then buttons up the money, and bows himself out. You vouldn't believe, Sir,' continued Sam, with a look of inexpressible imprudence at his master, 'that on the werry day as he came down with them

woters, his coach was upset on that 'ere werry spot, and ev'ry man on 'em was turned into the canal!'

""And got out again?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, hastily.

""Why, replied Sam, very slowly, 'I rather think one oldgentleman was missin'; 1 know his bat was found, but I a'n't quite certain whether his head was in it or not. But what I look at, is the hex-traordinary, and wonderful coincidence, that arter what that gen'l'm'n said, my father's coach should be upset in that werry place, and on that werry day!"

We wish we had space for the admirable view of the interior of Dodson and Fog's law-office, and the faithful and striking picture of the unprincipled class to which those worthies belong; but we must defer for the present farther notice of the Pickwickians.

'The Tuggs's at Ramsgate' have a short and simple but most humorous and instructive history. Mr. Joseph Tuggs, grocer, in a narrow street near the London Bridge, on the Surrey side of the Thames, is a green grocer. By the unexpected decision of a long-pending law suit, respecting the validity of a will, he suddenly becomes the possessor of twenty thousand pounds. The change effected in the views of the grocer and his family, by this fortunate result, is thus depicted:

"A prolonged consultation took place that night in the little parlor - a consultation that was to settle the future destinies of the Tuggs'. The shop was shut up at an unusually early hour; and many were the unavailing kicks bestowed upon the closed door by applicants for quarterns of sugar, or half quarterns of bread, or penn'orths of pepper, which were to have been 'left till Saturday, but which fortune had

left alone altogether.

"We must certainly give up business,' said Miss Tuggs.
"Oh, decidedly,' said Mrs. Tuggs.

""Simon shall go to the bar,' said Mr. Joseph Tuggs.
""And I shall always sign myself 'Cymon' in future,' said his son.
"And I shall call myself Charlotta,' said Miss Tuggs.

were to be

""And you must always call me 'Ma,' and father 'Pa,'' said Mrs. Tuggs. ""Yes, and Pa must leave off all his vulgar habits,' interposed Miss Tuggs. ""I'll take care o' all that,' responded Mr. Joseph Tuggs, complacently. He was at

that very moment eating pickled salmon with a pocket-knife.

""We must leave town immediately,' said Mr. Cymon Tuggs.

"Every body concurred that this was an indispensable preliminary to being genteel. The question then arose where should they go?

""Gravesend, mildly suggested Mr. Joseph Tuggs. The idea was unanimously scouted. Gravesend was low. ""Margate,' insinuated Mrs. Tuggs. 'Worse and worse - nobody there but tradespeople.'

""Brighton! Mr. Cymon Tuggs opposed an insurmountable objection. All the coaches had been upset in their turn within the last three weeks; each coach had averaged two passengers killed, and six wounded; and in every case the newspapers had distinctly understood that 'no blame whatever was attributable to the coachman.' ""Ramsgate! ejaculated Mr. Cymon, thoughtfully. To be sure how stupid they must have been not to have thought of that before. Ramsgate was just the place of all others that they ought to go to."

Passing the fine description of the voyage to Ramsgate, and the graphic portraits of the scheming Captain Waters and his lady, let us step on shore with the Tuggs's, from the newly-arrived steamer:

"The sun was shining brightly - the sea, dancing to its own music, rolled merrily in; crowds of people promenaded to and fro; young ladies tittered, old ladies talked, nurse-maids displayed their charms to the greatest possible advantage, and their sweet little charges ran up and down, and to and fro, and in and out, under the feet, and between the legs of the assembled concourse, in the most playful and exhilarating manner possible. There were old gentlemen trying to make out objects through long teles-. copes, and young ones making objects of themselves in open shirt collars; ladies carrying about portable chairs, and portable chairs carrying about invalids. Parties were waiting on the pier for parties who had come by the steam-boat; and nothing was to be heard but talking, laughing, welcoming, and merriment.

""Fly, Sir? exclaimed a chorus of fourteen men and six boys, the moment that Mr. Joseph Tuggs, at the head of his little party, had set foot in the street. "Here's the gen'l'm'n at last!' said one, touching his hat with mock politeness.

Mr. Pott, the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette. After a few preliminary remarks, Mr.

Pott turned round to Mr. Pickwick, and said with solemnity:

""This contest excites great interest in the metropolis, Sir?'

""I believe it does,' said Mr. Pick wick.

"To which I have reason to know,' said Pott, looking toward Mr. Perker for corroboration, 'to which I have reason to know my article of last Saturday in some degree contributed.'

""Not the least doubt of that,' said the little man. "The press is a mighty engine, Sir,' said Pott.

Mr. Pickwick yielded his fullest assent to the proposition.

""But I trust, Sir,' said Pott, 'that I have never abused the enormous power I wield. I trust, Sir, that I have never pointed the noble instrument which is placed in my hands, against the sacred bosom of private life, or the tender breast of individual reputation; I trust, Sir, that I have devoted my energies to - to endeavors - humble they may be, humble I know they are - to instil those principles of - which are

"Here the editor of the Eatanswill Gazette appearing to ramble, Mr. Pickwick came to his relief, and said:

""Certainly.'

""And what, Sir - said Pott-'what Sir, let me ask you, as an impartial man, is the state of the public mind in London, with reference to my contest with the Independent?' ""Greatly excited, no doubt,' interposed Mr. Perker, with a look of slyness which was very likely accidental.

6

""That contest,' said Pott, shall be prolonged so long as I have health and strength, and that portion of talent with which I am gifted. From that contest, Sir, although it may unsettle men's minds and excite their feelings, and render them incapable for the discharge of the every-day duties of ordinary life; from that contest, Sir, I will never shrink, till I have set my heel upon the Eatanswill Independent. I wish the people of London, and the people of this country to know, Sir, that they may rely upon me; that I will not desert them; that I am resolved to stand by them, Sir, to the last.'

""Your conduct is most noble, Sir,' said Mr. Pickwick; and he grasped the hand of the magnanimous Pott.

""You are, Sir, I perceive, a man of sense and talent,' said Mr. Pott, almost breathless with the vehemence of his patriotic declaration. 'I am most happy, Sir, to make the acquaintance of such a man.' "

sense

Sam Weller, the illustrious Pickwick's illustrious servant - an original in every thus replies to a remark of wonder and surprise on the part of his master, that such strange tricks upon independent voters should be practised by the people of Eatanswill:

""Strange practices, these,' said Mr. Pickwick, half speaking to himself, and half addressing Sam. ""Not half so strange as a miraculous circumstance as happened to my own father, at an election-time, in this werry place, Sir,' replied Sam.

""What was that?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

،

""Why he drove a coach down here once,' said Sam; "Lection time came on, and he was engaged by vun party to bring down woters from London. Night afore he was a going to drive up, committee on t'other side sends for him quietly, and away he goes vith the messenger, who shows him in; - large room lots of gen'l'm'n - heaps of papers, pens and ink, and all that 'ere. 'Ah, Mr. Weller,' says the gen'l'm'n in the chair, 'glad to see you, Sir; how are you?' -'Werry well, thank'ee, Sir,' says my father; I hope you're pretty middlin,' says he - 'Pretty well, thank'ee, Sir,' says the gen'l'm'n; ; 'sit down, Mr. Weller r-pray sit down, Sir.' So my father sits down, and he and the gen'l'm'n looks werry hard at each other. 'You don't remember me?' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Can't say I do,' says my father. 'Oh, I know you,' says the gen'l'm'n; 'know'd you ven you was a boy,' says he. 'Well, I don't remember you,' says my father. That's werry odd,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Werry,' says my father. You must have a bad mem'ry, Mr. Weller,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Well, it is a werry bad 'un,' says my father. 'I thought so,' says the gen'l'm'n. So then they pours him out a glass o' wine, and gammons him about driving, and gets him into a reg'lar good humor, and at last shoves a twenty pound note in his hand. 'It's a werry bad road betweent his and London,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Here and there it is a werry heavy road,' says my father. "Specially near the canal, I think,' says the gen'l'm'n. 'Nasty bit, that 'ere,' says my father. Well, Mr. Weller,' says the gen'l'm'n, 'you're a werry good whip, and can do what you like with your horses, we know. We're all werry fond o' you, Mr. Weller, so in case you should have an accident when you're a bringing these here woters down, and should tip 'em over into the canal vithout hurtin' 'em, this is for yourself,' says he. Gen'l'm'n, you're werry kind,' says my father, 'and I'll drink your health in another glass of wine,' says he; vich he did, and then buttons up the money, and bows himself out. You vouldn't believe, Sir,' continued Sam, with a look of inexpressible imprudence at his master, 'that on the werry day as he came down with them

woters, his coach was upset on that 'ere werry spot, and ev'ry man on 'em was turned into the canal!'

""And got out again?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, hastily.

""Why,' replied Sam, very slowly, 'I rather think one oldgentleman was missin'; 1 know his hat was found, but I a'n't quite certain whether his head was in it or not. But what I look at, is the hex-traordinary, and wonderful coincidence, that arter what that gen'l'm'n said, my father's coach should be upset in that werry place, and on that werry day!"

We wish we had space for the admirable view of the interior of Dodson and Fog's law-office, and the faithful and striking picture of the unprincipled class to which those worthies belong; but we must defer for the present farther notice of the Pickwickians.

'The Tuggs's at Ramsgate' have a short and simple but most humorous and instructive history. Mr. Joseph Tuggs, grocer, in a narrow street near the London Bridge, on the Surrey side of the Thames, is a green grocer. By the unexpected decision of a long-pending law suit, respecting the validity of a will, he suddenly becomes the possessor of twenty thousand pounds. The change effected in the views of the grocer and his family, by this fortunate result, is thus depicted :

"A prolonged consultation took place that night in the little parlor - a consultation that was to settle the future destinies of the Tuggs'. The shop was shut up at an unusually early hour; and many were the unavailing kicks bestowed upon the closed door by applicants for quarterns of sugar, or half quarterns of bread, or penn'orths of pepper, which were to have been 'left till Saturday, but which fortune had decreed were to be left alone altogether.

"We must certainly give up business,' said Miss Tuggs.

""Oh, decidedly,' said Mrs. Tuggs.

""Simon shall go to the bar,' said Mr. Joseph Tuggs.
""And I shall always sign myself 'Cymon' in future,' said his son.

""And I shall call myself Charlotta,' said Miss Tuggs.

""And you must always call me 'Ma,' and father 'Pa," said Mrs. Tuggs. "Yes, and Pa must leave off all his vulgar habits,' interposed Miss Tuggs. "I'll take care o' all that,' responded Mr. Joseph Tuggs, complacently. He was at

that very moment eating pickled salmon with a pocket-knife.

""We must leave town immediately,' said Mr. Cymon Tuggs.

"Every body concurred that this was an indispensable preliminary to being genteel. The question then arose - where should they go?

""Gravesend, mildly suggested Mr. Joseph Tuggs. The idea was unanimously scouted. Gravesend was low.

""Margate,' insinuated Mrs. Tuggs. 'Worse and worse - nobody there but tradespeople.'

""Brighton! Mr. Cymon Tuggs opposed an insurmountable objection. All the coaches had been upset in their turn within the last three weeks; each coach had averaged two passengers killed, and six wounded; and in every case the newspapers had distinctly understood that 'no blame whatever was attributable to the coachman.' ""Ramsgate!" ejaculated Mr. Cymon, thoughtfully. To be sure how stupid they must have been not to have thought of that before. Ramsgate was just the place of all others that they ought to go to."

Passing the fine description of the voyage to Ramsgate, and the graphic portraits of the scheming Captain Waters and his lady, let us step on shore with the Tuggs's, from the newly-arrived steamer:

"The sun was shining brightly - the sea, dancing to its own music, rolled merrily in; crowds of people promenaded to and fro; young ladies tittered, old ladies talked, nurse-maids displayed their charms to the greatest possible advantage, and their sweet little charges ran up and down, and to and fro, and in and out, under the feet, and between the legs of the assembled concourse, in the most playful and exhilarating manner possible. There were old gentlemen trying to make out objects through long teles-. copes, and young ones making objects of themselves in open shirt collars; ladies carrying about portable chairs, and portable chairs carrying about invalids. Parties were waiting on the pier for parties who had come by the steam-boat; and nothing was to be heard but talking, laughing, welcoming, and merriment.

""Fly, Sir? exclaimed a chorus of fourteen men and six boys, the moment that Mr. Joseph Tuggs, at the head of his little party, had set foot in the street. "Here's the gen'l'm'n at last!' said one, touching his hat with mock politeness.