The Steam-Packet: A Tale of the River and the Ocean — page 232: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE STEAM PACKET, 175 mystery of tone and manner: then, in an equally tragic fashion, he burst away from his young friend and left the room; whereupon Mr. Smale, overjoyed at the brilliant prospects opening ere him under the patronage of the Earl of Noodleton, drew near to listen to the dis- course of his brother Luminaries and the other English travellers. “Waita’!” said a young gentleman—one of the strangers—who had rung the bell to summon the functionary whom he thus ad- dressed: “let me have some vermicella’ soup—and some oysta’s—and some sheep’s trotta’s—and one of those chops, you know, cooked in papa’ (paper)—and a potata’—to conclude with fried brains and melted butta,’ for my dinna’ ?” “Waiter! ” cried another of the English strangers, “ let me nave some vermiceller also—and some sausagers with tomater sauce—and some fried potaters—and rice with suger ; and here, I say—you feller! —give me the list of wines out o’ the winder—there ’tis now, stupid ! close by your elber. What next ?—you have knocked down the sofer piller! ” Linens ‘‘ And waita’!” said the first speaker, “add a fritta’ to my dinna’; and in the meantime give me a tumbla’ of soda’ wata’, with a drop of Madeira, ginga’, and suga’.”’ ‘¢ And waiter,”’ observed the second traveller, ‘“‘you may alser give me a bottle of soder water. Stay, though—lI ’ll take a glass of Mala- ger ; and after dinner, mind and let me have some nice moker coffee.”’ ‘‘ There is the military band passing by!”’ observed a Luminary, after a short pause, the silence of which was interrupted by the sound of the martial music. “Ah! a vary purty march, no doubt,” cried a third traveller; “* but I loike the Dook of York’s better. You ’aven’t sich millinary bands in Calais as is to be ’eard at St. Jeemes’s, you know. I ’aven’t seed nothink so good in France not yet. I seed a actress last night at the theayter vary much applauded—but I didn’t hencore her. She’s not calkilated to be a fifth rate *un at Common Gard’n or Doory Lane. Boy the boye, the world is only in the hinfantry o’ the ’istoryonic hart. English preformers never haspirate the haitch, in sich words, for in- stance, has hink and hoats, and leave out the w in wice and wanity, and make nothink of omitting the & in somethink. But arter all, the greatest fernomenon I ever seed was Maister Baittey, the young Row- shus; and I loike precostuosity.” Mr. Smale found nothing at all interesting in this style of conversa- tion; and so, after listening to it for a few moments, he took up his hat, and sauntered out of the hotel. Butas he was crossing the Grande Place, or market-place, he encountered Mr, Pifpaf in company with a Gomicbooks (E()