Chapter 19

"Oh, do skate, Mr. Winkle," said Arabella. "I like to see it so much." 10

"Oh, it is so graceful," said another young lady.

A third young lady said it was "elegant," and a fourth expressed her opinion that it was "swanlike."

"I should be very happy, I'm sure," said Mr. Winkle, reddening; "but I have no skates." 15

This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had a couple of pair, and the fat boy announced that there were half a dozen more in the house; whereat Mr. Winkle expressed exquisite delight and looked exquisitely uncomfortable. 5

Mr. Winkle, with his face and hands blue with the cold, forced a gimlet into the soles of his feet, put his skates on with the points behind, and got the straps into a very complicated and entangled state, with the assistance of Mr. Snodgrass, who knew rather less about skates than a 10 Hindu. At length, however, with the assistance of Mr. Weller, the unfortunate skates were firmly screwed and buckled on, and Mr. Winkle was raised to his feet.

"Now, then, sir," said Sam in an encouraging tone; "off with you, and show 'em how to do it." 15

"Stop, Sam, stop," said Mr. Winkle, trembling violently and clutching hold of Sam's arm with the grasp of a drowning man. "How slippery it is, Sam."

"Not an uncommon thing upon ice, sir," replied Mr. Weller. "Hold up, sir." 20

This last observation of Mr. Weller's bore reference to a demonstration Mr. Winkle made at the instant, of a frantic desire to throw his feet in the air and dash the back of his head on the ice.

"These--these--are very awkward skates, ain't they, 25 Sam?" inquired Mr. Winkle, staggering.

"I'm afraid there's an awkward gentleman in 'em, sir," replied Sam.

"Now, Winkle," cried Mr. Pickwick, quite unconscious that there was anything the matter. "Come, the ladies 30 are all anxiety."

"Yes, yes!" replied Mr. Winkle with a ghastly smile.

"Just a goin' to begin," said Sam, endeavoring to disengage himself. "Now, sir, start off."

"Stop an instant, Sam," gasped Mr. Winkle, clinging most affectionately to Mr. Weller. "I find I've got a couple of coats at home that I don't want, Sam. You may 5 have them, Sam."

"Thank'ee, sir," replied Mr. Weller.

"Never mind touching your hat, Sam," said Mr. Winkle hastily. "You needn't take your hand away to do that. I meant to have given you five shillings this morning for a 10 Christmas box, Sam; I'll give it to you this afternoon, Sam."

"You're very good, sir," replied Mr. Weller.

"Just hold me at first, Sam, will you?" said Mr. Winkle. "There--that's right. I shall soon get in the way of it, 15 Sam. Not too fast, Sam; not too fast."

Mr. Winkle, stooping forward with his body half doubled up, was being assisted over the ice by Mr. Weller in a very singular and unswanlike manner when Mr. Pickwick most innocently shouted from the opposite bank, 20

"Sam!"

"Sir?" said Mr. Weller.

"Here. I want you."

"Let go, sir," said Sam. "Don't you hear the governor a callin'? Let go, sir." 25

With a violent effort Mr. Weller disengaged himself from the grasp of the agonized Pickwickian; and in so doing administered a considerable impetus to the unhappy Mr. Winkle. With an accuracy which no degree of dexterity or practice could have insured, that gentleman bore swiftly 30 down into the center of a group at the very moment when Mr. Bob Sawyer was performing a flourish of unparalleled beauty. Mr. Winkle struck wildly against him, and with a wild crash they fell heavily down. Mr. Pickwick ran to the spot. Bob Sawyer had risen to his feet, but Mr. Winkle was far too wise to do anything of the kind in skates. He was seated on the ice, making spasmodic efforts to smile; 5 but anguish was depicted on every lineament of his countenance.

Mr. Pickwick was excited and indignant. He beckoned to Mr. Weller and said in a stern voice, "Take his skates off." 10

"No; but really I had scarcely begun," remonstrated Mr. Winkle.

"Take his skates off," repeated Mr. Pickwick firmly.

The command was not to be resisted. Mr. Winkle allowed Sam to obey it in silence. 15

"Lift him up," said Mr. Pickwick. Sam assisted him to rise.

Mr. Pickwick retired a few paces apart from the bystanders, and beckoning his friend to approach, fixed a searching look upon him and uttered in a low but distinct 20 and emphatic tone these remarkable words:

"You're a humbug, sir."

"A what?" said Mr. Winkle, starting.

"A humbug, sir. I will speak plainer if you wish it. An impostor, sir." 25

With these words, Mr. Pickwick turned slowly on his heel and rejoined his friends.

While Mr. Pickwick was delivering himself of the sentiment just recorded, Mr. Weller and the fat boy, having by their joint endeavors cut out a slide, were exercising themselves 30 thereupon in a very masterly and brilliant manner. Sam Weller, in particular, was displaying that beautiful feat of fancy sliding which is currently denominated "knocking at the cobbler's door," and which is achieved by skimming over the ice on one foot and occasionally giving a two-penny postman's knock upon it with the other. It was a good long slide, and there was something in the motion 5 which Mr. Pickwick, who was very cold with standing still, could not help envying.

"It looks a nice warm exercise, that, doesn't it?" he inquired of Wardle, when that gentleman was thoroughly out of breath by reason of the indefatigable manner in 10 which he had converted his legs into a pair of compasses and drawn complicated problems on the ice.

"Ah, it does, indeed," replied Wardle. "Do you slide?"

"I used to do so, on the gutters, when I was a boy," replied Mr. Pickwick. 15

"Try it now," said Wardle.

Mr. Pickwick paused, considered, pulled off his gloves and put them in his hat, took two or three short runs, balked himself as often, and at last took another run and went slowly and gravely down the slide with his feet about 20 a yard and a quarter apart, amidst the gratified shouts of all the spectators.

It was the most intensely interesting thing to observe the manner in which Mr. Pickwick performed his share in the ceremony; to watch the torture of anxiety with 25 which he viewed the person behind, gaining upon him at the imminent hazard of tripping him up; to see him gradually expend the painful force which he had put on at first and turn slowly round on the slide, with his face towards the point from which he had started; to contemplate 30 the playful smile which mantled on his face when he had accomplished the distance and the eagerness with which he turned round when he had done so and ran after his predecessor, his black gaiters tripping pleasantly through the snow and his eyes beaming cheerfulness and gladness through his spectacles. And when he was knocked down (which happened upon the average every third round), 5 it was the most invigorating sight that can possibly be imagined to behold him gather up his hat, gloves, and handkerchief with a glowing countenance, and resume his station in the rank with an ardor and enthusiasm which nothing could abate. 10

The sport was at its height, the sliding was at the quickest, the laughter was at the loudest, when a sharp, smart crack was heard. There was a quick rush towards the bank, a wild scream from the ladies, and a shout from Mr. Tupman. A large mass of ice disappeared, the water bubbled 15 up over it, and Mr. Pickwick's hat, gloves, and handkerchief were floating on the surface; and this was all of Mr. Pickwick that anybody could see.

Dismay and anguish were depicted on every countenance; the males turned pale, and the females fainted; Mr. Snodgrass 20 and Mr. Winkle grasped each other by the hand and gazed at the spot where their leader had gone down, with frenzied eagerness; while Mr. Tupman, by way of rendering the promptest assistance and at the same time conveying to any persons who might be within hearing the clearest 25 possible notion of the catastrophe, ran off across the country at his utmost speed, screaming "Fire!" with all his might and main.

It was at this very moment--when old Wardle and Sam Weller were approaching the hole with cautious steps and 30 Mr. Benjamin Allen was holding a hurried consultation with Mr. Bob Sawyer on the advisability of bleeding the company generally, as an improving little bit of professional practice--it was at this very moment that a head, face, and shoulders emerged from beneath the water, and disclosed the features and spectacles of Mr. Pickwick.

"Do you feel the bottom there, old fellow?" said Wardle. 5

"Yes, certainly," replied Mr. Pickwick, wringing the water from his head and face and gasping for breath. "I fell upon my back. I couldn't get on my feet at first."

The clay upon so much of Mr. Pickwick's coat as was yet visible bore testimony to the accuracy of this statement; 10 and as the fears of the spectators were still further relieved by the fat boy's suddenly recollecting that the water was nowhere more than five feet deep, prodigies of valor were performed to get him out. After a vast quantity of splashing, and cracking, and struggling, Mr. Pickwick was at 15 length fairly extricated from his unpleasant position and once more stood on dry land.

--_Pickwick Papers._

1. The members of the Pickwick Club herein presented are Mr. Pickwick, a heavy, pompous, dignified gentleman, and three friends, Messrs. Snodgrass, Winkle, and Tupman. Characterize each. Weller is a guide-valet. _Pickwick Papers_ records the experiences of the Club during a series of tours.

2. How many episodes are related?

3. Why didn't Winkle admit his inability to skate? What do you consider the funniest part of the Winkle story?

4. What is ludicrous about Pickwick's sliding? When he fell into the water, why was there so little assistance offered at first, and so much later?

5. If you have had a funny experience of your own on ice, tell it to the class.

DARIUS GREEN AND HIS FLYING MACHINE

BY JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE

If ever there lived a Yankee lad, Wise or otherwise, good or bad, Who, seeing the birds fly, didn't jump With flapping arms from stake or stump, Or spreading the tail 5 Of his coat for a sail, Take a soaring leap from post or rail, And wonder why _He_ couldn't fly, And flap and flutter and wish and try-- 10 If ever you knew a country dunce Who didn't try that as often as once-- All I can say is, that's a sign He never would do for a hero of mine.

An aspiring genius was D. Green: 15 The son of a farmer--age fourteen; His body was long and lank and lean-- Just right for flying, as will be seen; He had two eyes as bright as a bean, And a freckled nose that grew between, 20 A little awry;--for I must mention That he had riveted his attention Upon his wonderful invention, Twisting his tongue as he twisted the strings, And working his face as he worked the wings, 25 And with every turn of gimlet and screw Turning and screwing his mouth round too, Till his nose seemed bent To catch the scent, Around some corner, of new-baked pies, And his wrinkled cheeks and squinting eyes 5 Grew puckered into a queer grimace, That made him look very droll in the face, And also very wise.

And wise he must have been, to do more Than ever a genius did before, 10 Excepting Dædalus of yore, And his son Icarus, who wore Upon their backs Those wings of wax He had read of in the old almanacs. 15 Darius was clearly of the opinion, That the air was also man's dominion, And that, with paddle or fin or pinion, We soon or late Shall navigate 20 The azure as now we sail the sea. The thing looks simple enough to me; And if you doubt it, Hear how Darius reasoned about it:

"The birds can fly, 25 An' why can't I? Must we give in," Says he with a grin, "That the bluebird an' phoebe Are smarter 'n we be? 30 Jest fold our hands an' see the swaller An' blackbird an' catbird beat us holler? Does the leetle chatterin', sassy wren, No bigger'n my thumb, know more than men? Jest show me that 5 Er prove 't the bat Hez got more brains than's in my hat, An' I'll back down, an' not till then!"

He argued further: "Ner I can't see What's th' use o' wings to a bumblebee 10 Fer to git a livin' with, more'n to me; Ain't my business Importanter'n his'n is? That Icarus Made a perty muss-- 15 Him an' his daddy Daedalus. They might 'a' knowed wings made o' wax Wouldn't stan' sun heat an' hard whacks: I'll make mine o' luther, Er suthin' er other." 20

And he said to himself, as he tinkered and planned: "But I ain't goin' to show my hand To nummies that never can understand The fust idee that's big an' grand." So he kept his secret from all the rest, 25 Safely buttoned within his vest; And in the loft above the shed Himself he locks, with thimble and thread And wax and hammer and buckles and screws, And all such things as geniuses use: 30 Two bats for patterns, curious fellows! A charcoal pot and a pair of bellows; An old hoop skirt or two, as well as Some wire and several old umbrellas; A carriage cover for tail and wings; 5 A piece of harness; and straps and strings; And a big, strong box, In which he locks These and a hundred other things.

His grinning brothers, Reuben and Burke 10 And Nathan and Jotham and Solomon, lurk Around the corner to see him work-- Sitting cross-legged, like a Turk, Drawing the waxed end through with a jerk, And boring the holes with a comical quirk 15 Of his wise old head, and a knowing smirk. But vainly they mounted each other's backs, And poked through knot holes and pried through cracks; With wood from the pile and straw from the stacks He plugged the knot holes and calked the cracks; 20 And a bucket of water, which one would think He had brought up into the loft to drink When he chanced to be dry, Stood always nigh, For Darius was sly! 25 And whenever at work he happened to spy At chink or crevice a blinking eye, He let a dipper of water fly.

So day after day He stitched and tinkered and hammered away, 30 Till at last 'twas done,-- The greatest invention under the sun! "An' now," says Darius, "hooray fer some fun!"

'Twas the Fourth of July, And the weather was dry, 5 And not a cloud was on all the sky, Save a few light fleeces, which here and there, Half mist, half air, Like foam on the ocean went floating by,-- Just as lovely a morning as ever was seen 10 For a nice little trip in a flying machine.

Thought cunning Darius: "Now I shan't go Along 'ith the fellers to see the show: I'll say I've got sich a terrible cough! An' then, when the folks 'ave all gone off, 15 I'll have full swing Fer to try the thing, An' practice a little on the wing."

"Ain't goin' to see the celebration?" Says brother Nate. "No; botheration! 20 I've got sich a cold--a toothache--I-- My gracious!--feel's though I should fly!" Said Jotham, "'Sho! Guess ye better go." But Darius said, "No! 25 Shouldn't wonder 'f you might see me, though, 'Long 'bout noon, if I get red O' this jumpin', thumpin' pain 'n my head." For all the while to himself he said: "I tell ye what! I'll fly a few times around the lot, To see how't seems, then soon's I've got The hang o' the thing, ez likely's not, I'll astonish the nation, 5 An' all creation, By flyin' over the celebration! Over their heads I'll sail like an eagle; I'll balance myself on my wings like a sea gull; I'll dance on the chimbleys; I'll stand on the steeple; 10 I'll flop up to winders an' scare the people! I'll light on the liberty pole an' crow; An' I'll say to the gawpin' fools below, 'What world's this 'ere That I've come near?' 15 Fer I'll make 'em b'lieve I'm a chap f'm the moon; An' I'll try a race 'ith their ol' balloon!"

He crept from his bed, And seeing the others were gone, he said: "I'm a gittin' over the cold 'n my head." 20 And away he sped, To open the wonderful box in the shed.

His brothers had walked but a little way, When Jotham to Nathan chanced to say, "What is the feller up to, hey?" 25 "Don'o',--the' 's suthin' er other to pay, Er he wouldn't 'a' stayed to hum to-day." Says Burke, "His toothache's all 'n his eye! _He_ never'd miss a Fo'th o' July, Ef he hedn't got some machine to try." 30 Then Sol, the little one, spoke: "By darn! Le's hurry back an' hide 'n the barn, An' pay him fer tellin' us that yarn!"

"Agreed!" Through the orchard they creep back, Along by the fences, behind the stack, 5 And one by one, through a hole in the wall, In under the dusty barn they crawl, Dressed in their Sunday garments all. And a very astonishing sight was that, When each in his cobwebbed coat and hat 10 Came up through the floor like an ancient rat.

And there they hid; And Reuben slid The fastenings back, and the door undid. "Keep dark!" said he, 15 "While I squint an' see what the' is to see."

As knights of old put on their mail,-- From head to foot An iron suit, Iron jacket and iron boot, 20 Iron breeches, and on the head No hat, but an iron pot instead, And under the chin the bail (I believe they called the thing a helm); And, thus accoutered, they took the field, 25 Sallying forth to overwhelm The dragons and pagans that plagued the realm,-- So this modern knight Prepared for flight, Put on his wings and strapped them tight,-- Jointed and jaunty, strong and light,-- Buckled them fast to shoulder and hip,-- Ten feet they measured from tip to tip! And a helm had he, but that he wore, 5 Not on his head, like those of yore, But more like the helm of a ship.

"Hush!" Reuben said, "He's up in the shed! He's opened the winder,--I see his head! 10 He stretches it out, An' pokes it about, Lookin' to see 'f the coast is clear, An' nobody near;-- Guess he don'o' who's hid in here! 15 He's riggin' a springboard over the sill! Stop laffin', Solomon! Burke, keep still! He's climbin' out now. Of all the things! What's he got on? I van, it's wings! An' that t'other thing? I vum, it's a tail! An' there he sets like a hawk on a rail! 20 Steppin' careful, he travels the length Of his springboard, and teeters to try its strength.

"Now he stretches his wings like a monstrous bat; Peeks over his shoulder, this way an' that, 25 Fer to see 'f the' 's anyone passin' by; But the' 's on'y a ca'f an' a goslin' nigh. _They_ turn up at him a wonderin' eye, To see--the dragon! he's goin' to fly! Away he goes! Jiminy! what a jump! Flop--flop--an' plump To the ground with a thump, Flutt'rin' an' flound'rin', all 'n a lump!"

As a demon is hurled by an angel's spear, 5 Heels over head, to his proper sphere, Heels over head, and head over heels, Dizzily down the abyss he wheels,-- So fell Darius. Upon his crown, In the midst of the barnyard, he came down, 10 In a wonderful whirl of tangled strings, Broken braces and broken springs, Broken tail and broken wings, Shooting stars and various things, Barnyard litter of straw and chaff. 15 Away with a bellow fled the calf, And what was that? Did the gosling laugh?

'Tis a merry roar From the old barn door, And he hears the voice of Jotham crying, 20 "Say, D'rius! how do you like flyin'?"

Slowly, ruefully, where he lay, Darius just turned and looked that way, As he stanched his sorrowful nose with his cuff. "Wall, I like flyin' well enough," 25 He said, "but the' ain't sich a awful sight O' fun in't when ye come to light."

_Moral_

I just have room for the moral here: And this is the moral,--Stick to your sphere. Or, if you insist, as you have the right, On spreading your wings for a loftier flight, The moral is,--Take care how you light. 5

1. Tell the story of Icarus and Dædalus. Compare Darius's flying machine with a modern airplane. When and by whom was the airplane perfected as a practical flyer?

2. How much of the story is told from Darius's standpoint? Through whose eyes do we see the rest?

3. Describe Darius. Is he really a clever lad? Why do we laugh at his experiment?