How The Pickwickians Made And Cultivated The Acquaintance
Of A Couple Of Nice Young Men Belonging To One Of The Liberal Professions; How They Disported Themselves On The Ice; And How Their Visit Came To A Conclusion
'Well, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, as that favoured servitor entered his bed-chamber, with his warm water, on the morning of Christmas Day, 'still frosty?'
'Water in the wash-hand basin's a mask o' ice, Sir,' responded Sam.
'Severe weather, Sam,' observed Mr. Pickwick.
'Fine time for them as is well wropped up, as the Polar bear said to himself, ven he was practising his skating,' replied Mr. Weller.
'I shall be down in a quarter of an hour, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, untying his nightcap.
'Wery good, sir,' replied Sam. 'There's a couple o' sawbones downstairs.'
'A couple of what!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sitting up in bed.
'A couple o' sawbones,' said Sam.
'What's a sawbones?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, not quite certain whether it was a live animal, or something to eat.
'What! Don't you know what a sawbones is, sir?' inquired Mr. Weller. 'I thought everybody know'd as a sawbones was a surgeon.'
'Oh, a surgeon, eh?' said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile.
'Just that, sir,' replied Sam. 'These here ones as is below, though, ain't reg'lar thoroughbred sawbones; they're only in trainin'.' 'In other words they're medical students, I suppose?' said Mr. Pickwick.
Sam Weller nodded assent.
'I am glad of it,' said Mr. Pickwick, casting his nightcap energetically on the counterpane. 'They are fine fellows—very fine fellows; with judgments matured by observation and reflection; and tastes refined by reading and study. I am very glad of it.'
Of A Couple Of Nice Young Men Belonging To One Of The Liberal Professions; How They Disported Themselves On The Ice; And How Their Visit Came To A Conclusion
'Well, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, as that favoured servitor entered his bed-chamber, with his warm water, on the morning of Christmas Day, 'still frosty?'
'Water in the wash-hand basin's a mask o' ice, Sir,' responded Sam.
'Severe weather, Sam,' observed Mr. Pickwick.
'Fine time for them as is well wropped up, as the Polar bear said to himself, ven he was practising his skating,' replied Mr. Weller.
'I shall be down in a quarter of an hour, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, untying his nightcap.
'Wery good, sir,' replied Sam. 'There's a couple o' sawbones downstairs.'
'A couple of what!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, sitting up in bed.
'A couple o' sawbones,' said Sam.
'What's a sawbones?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, not quite certain whether it was a live animal, or something to eat.
'What! Don't you know what a sawbones is, sir?' inquired Mr. Weller. 'I thought everybody know'd as a sawbones was a surgeon.'
'Oh, a surgeon, eh?' said Mr. Pickwick, with a smile.
'Just that, sir,' replied Sam. 'These here ones as is below, though, ain't reg'lar thoroughbred sawbones; they're only in trainin'.' 'In other words they're medical students, I suppose?' said Mr. Pickwick.
Sam Weller nodded assent.
'I am glad of it,' said Mr. Pickwick, casting his nightcap energetically on the counterpane. 'They are fine fellows—very fine fellows; with judgments matured by observation and reflection; and tastes refined by reading and study. I am very glad of it.'
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