Lest the reader should suspect that Mr Headstone had forgotten his aforestated intention to read the entire works of Mr Charles Dickens within the compass of a single year, we feel it incumbent upon ourselves to take this occasion to record some of that gentleman's opinions on the author's inaugural work, which, having been safely stowed in quarto form in one of the pockets of his great coat, was conveniently to hand whenever an occasion for its perusal presented itself during his travels.
Mr Headstone was quickly apprised of the opinion that a book set primarily in the comic mode was perhaps not ideally suited to being read in the confined space of a public conveyance. Whenever Mr Headstone tittered, his fellow passengers frowned; when he sniggered, they raised an eyebrow; when he chuckled, they murmured; when he chortled, they shook their heads - and so, as his own expressions of merriment grew increasingly demonstrative, the individuals around him - deprived of the stimulus of laughter - became sterner and ever more pious. By the time Mr Headstone arrived at the fifth chapter - in which Mr Winkle soothes the refractory steed - he was obliged to cram his pocket handkerchief into his mouth to prevent his fellow passengers from conspiring against him and ejecting him from the coach while it was still in motion. In the latter stages of his journey, the pedagogue was denied recourse to this expediency by virtue of the fact that the article of linen in question had become soaked in his own blood - occasioned by an unfortunate accident with a pocket knife - and he was therefore obliged to bite his knuckles by way of variety.
Mr Headstone was of the opinion that - amusing though many of the incidents recorded within the pages of the book were - he could not quite reconcile them with his own notions of reality. Were not some of the adventures of Mr Pickwick and his fellow members somewhat contrived? And what was the artistic merit of a series of unrelated incidents which seemed designed solely to place the protagonists in positions of embarrassment? These were deep questions, and in order to ruminate upon them Mr Headstone closed his eyes, and very soon was fast asleep.
Mr Charles Dickens
