GAZETTE, the position which that paper holds in
the country, my constant immersion in the vortex of politics--'

'P. my dear--' interposed Mrs. Pott.

'My life--' said the editor.

'I wish, my dear, you would endeavour to find some topic of conversation
in which these gentlemen might take some rational interest.'

'But, my love,' said Mr. Pott, with great humility, 'Mr. Pickwick does
take an interest in it.'

'It's well for him if he can,' said Mrs. Pott emphatically; 'I am
wearied out of my life with your politics, and quarrels with the
INDEPENDENT, and nonsense. I am quite astonished, P., at your making
such an exhibition of your absurdity.'

'But, my dear--' said Mr. Pott.

'Oh, nonsense, don't talk to me,' said Mrs. Pott. 'Do you play ecarte,
Sir?'

'I shall be very happy to learn under your tuition,' replied Mr. Winkle.

'Well, then, draw that little table into this window, and let me get out
of hearing of those prosy politics.'

'Jane,' said Mr. Pott, to the servant who brought in candles, 'go down
into the office, and bring me up the file of the GAZETTE for eighteen
hundred and twenty-six. I'll read you,' added the editor, turning to Mr.
Pickwick--'I'll just read you a few of the leaders I wrote at that time
upon the Buff job of appointing a new tollman to the turnpike here; I
rather think they'll amuse you.'

'I should like to hear them very much indeed,' said Mr. Pickwick.

Up came the file, and down sat the editor, with Mr. Pickwick at his
side.

We have in vain pored over the leaves of Mr. Pickwick's note-book,
in the hope of meeting with a general summary of these beautiful
compositions. We have every reason to believe that he was perfectly
enraptured with the vigour and freshness of the style; indeed Mr. Winkle
has recorded the fact that his eyes were closed, as if with excess of
pleasure, during the whole time of their perusal.

The announcement of supper put a stop both to the game of ecarte, and
the recapitulation of the beauties of the Eatanswill GAZETTE. Mrs. Pott
was in the highest spirits and the most agreeable humour. Mr. Winkle had
already made considerable progress in her good opinion, and she did
not hesitate to inform him, confidentially, that Mr. Pickwick was 'a
delightful old dear.' These terms convey a familiarity of expression,
in which few of those who were intimately acquainted with that
colossal-minded man, would have presumed to indulge. We have preserved
them, neverthe