ike Trundle's. He
had a suitable match for her in his eye: "a young gentleman down in our
neighbourhood," but Arabella's elopement set the fire to the powder, and
here it is worth while comparing the marriages of Emily and her sister
Isabella as a test of the relative importance of Snodgrass and this
Trundle. The one took place in London with great show and pomp, all the
family going up specially for it. "A handsome portion was bestowed on
Emily," but there is not a word to show that Trundle received a
halfpenny.

Then followed the scenes at Osborne's Hotel in the Adelphi, when all was
made up and Snodgrass accepted. And now, at last, we hear something of
Trundle. Mrs. T., as we might expect, was in an "interesting way," and
had to be informed of what was going on. But it had to be broken to her
by Trundle, in right of his office. Good, easy man! We can hear him:
"the news will be too much for her" (this is on the record). She would
insist on going, and it would be fatal. He would, of course, implore her
not to agitate herself in her present state. As a matter of course he
was all astray. The news was _not_ too much for her. She ordered at
once a cap and a new dress, and declared that she _would_ go up for the
wedding. The horrified Trundle, who had clearly no authority whatever,
called in the Doctor to exert _his_, which he did in this way: by leaving
it all to herself. Boz emphasizes it, by way of contrast to Trundle,
saying that "he was a wise and _discreet fellow_."

Of course the foolish Trundle was put aside; the lady went and suffered
no harm. This proves that Trundle was the _mari de la femme_, with no
will of his own.

At Dulwich Church, the bridegroom was met "by the bride, the maids, the
Winkles, the Wardles, and Trundles," always to be last and insignificant.
In course of time we are told that Mr. Pickwick was much troubled at
first by the numerous applications made to him to act as Godfather to the
offspring of his friends! These came from Mr. Winkle, Mr. Snodgrass, and
Mr. Trundle. Last of course. Poor soul! We can see him, grown elderly,
sitting at his own table, smiling or silent, or with an occasional "yes,
my dear," "certainly, my dear," "by all means, my dear."

CHAPTER VI. MUGGLETON AND ITS CRICKET

The situation and real name of Muggleton has always been a hotly debated
point; many have been the speculations and many the suggestions as to the
original. I was once i