the same walk will find that the words paint the scene perfectly and
faithfully to-day, so unspoiled and unaltered is it. The spot will
delight the traveler as much as it did Mr. Pickwick, who exclaimed,
as it all came in view: "If this were the place to which all who are
troubled with our friend's complaint came, I fancy their old attachment
to this world would very soon return"; at any rate, his other companions
were all agreed upon the point. "And really," added Mr. Pickwick,
after half an hour's walking had brought them to the village, "really
for a misanthrope's choice, this is one of the prettiest and most
desirable places of residence I ever met with."

Having been directed to the "Leather Bottle," "a clean and
commodious village ale-house," the three travellers entered, and at
once inquired for a gentleman of the name of Tupman. In those days
the inn was managed by a landlady, who promptly told Tom to
"show the gentlemen into the parlour."

"A stout country lad opened the door at the end of the passage, and
the three friends entered a long, low-roofed room, furnished with a
large number of high-backed, leather-cushioned chairs, of fantastic
shapes, and embellished with a great variety of old portraits and
roughly coloured prints of some antiquity. At the upper end of the
room was a table, with a white cloth upon it, well covered with a
roast fowl, bacon, ale and et ceteras; and at the table sat Mr.
Tupman, looking as unlike a man who had taken his leave of
the world as possible.

"On the entrance of his friends, that gentleman laid down his knife
and fork, and with a mournful air advanced to meet them."