Great Stories of Humor - Mr. Winkle Goes Rook Shooting - Charles Dickens (Abridged and Simplified)

Great Stories of Humor - Mr. Winkle Goes Rook Shooting - Charles Dickens  

(Abridged and Simplified)

On the morning after the arrival of the Pickwickians at Manor Farm. Mr. Pickwick fell into an enchanting and delicious reverie.

"Hallo!” was the sound that roused him.

                                    

Mr. Pickwick looked into the garden, and there saw Mr. Wardle. ‘How are you?' said the good - humoured individual. 'Make haste down, and come out. I'll wait for you here'.

                                    

Mr. Pickwick needed no second invitation. Ten minutes sufficed for the completion of his toilet. At the expiation of the time he was lay the old man's side.

                                   

"Hallo" said Mr. Pickwick in his turn, seeing that his companion was armed with a gun. Near him lay another gun on the grass.

'What's going forward?' asked Mr. Pickwick.

                                

“Why, your friend and I”, replied the host, are going out rook - shooting before breakfast. He's a very good shot, isn't he?'

                                 

‘I've heard him say he's a capital one', replied Mr. Pickwick, but I never saw him aim at anything'.

                                 

'Well’, said the host, 'I wish he'd come. Joe - Joe!"

                                 

The fat boy, who under the exciting influence of the morning did not appear to be more than three parts and a fraction asleep, emerged from the house.

                                  '

Go up, and call the gentleman, and tell him he'll find me and Mr. Pickwick in the rookery show the gentleman the way there. d'you hear?'

                                  

This is the place', said the old gentleman, pausing after a few minutes walking, in an avenue of trees. The information was unnecessary; for the incessant cawing of the unconscious rooks sufficiently indicated their whereabouts. Here they are', said Mr. Pickwick and, as he spoke the forms of Mr. Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and Mr. Winkle appeared in the distance. Not knowing which gentleman was required, the fat boy brought there all the three.

                                   

'Come along', shouted the old gentleman, addressing Mr. Wimble; 'a keen hand like you ought to have been up long ago, even to such poor work as this'.

                                    

Mr. Winkle responded with a forced smile, and took up the spare gun.

                                    

The old gentleman nodded; and two ragged boys climbed up two of the trees Pickwick asked what those lads were for. Warale replied that they were to start the game, to frighten the rooks. A branch was shaken by one of the boys. Half-a-dozen young rooks flew out of their nest. The old gentleman fired first; one bird fell down; the others flew off.

                                   

‘Take him up, Joe' said the old gentleman. "Now, Mr. Winkle fire away!.

Mr. Winkle advanced, and levelled his gun Mr. Pickwick and his friends bent their bodies low to escape damage from the heavy fall of rooks. The birds flew. But there was only a faint click in Winkle's gun. 'Miss fire,' said Mr. Winkle. who was very pale - probably from disappointment. 'Odd', said the old gentleman taking the gun, 'Never knew one of them miss fire before. Why, I don't see anything of the cap'.

                                

"Bless my soul! said Mr. Winkle, 'I declare I forgot the cap!

                                 

The slight omission was rectified. Mr. Pickwick crouched again. Mr. Winkle stepped forward with an air of determination and resolution; and Mr. Tupman looked out from behind a tree. The boy shouted; four birds flew out. Mr. Winkle fired.

                                

There was a scream of an individual - not a rook-in corporal anguish. Mr. Tupman had saved the lives of innumerable unoffending birds by receiving a portion of the charge in his left arm.

                                 

Pickwick called Winkle a wretch'!. Tupman Tay prostrate on the ground. He was in no hurry to open his eyes. Winkle knelt horror stricken beside him. Amidst confusion and alarm Tupman's arms were bandaged with pocket-handkerchiefs. Then he was conveyed to the house by slow degrees supported by the arms of his anxious friends.

                                 

They drew near the house. The ladies were at the garden gate waiting for their arrival and their breakfast. They approached nearer.

                                  

‘Don't be frightened', called out the old gentleman, fearful of alarming his daughters.

                                  

‘What's the matter? 'screamed the ladies. Mr. Tupman has met with a little accident; that's all!.

                                   

The spinster aunt uttered a scream and fell backwards in the arms of her nieces, and burst into fits of hysterical laughter.

                                 

‘Throw some cold water over her'. said the old gentleman.

                                  

‘No, no', murmured the spinster aunt; 'I am better now. Is he wounded? Is he dead?

'Do not agitate yourself, I entreat you, dearest madam', said Mr.Tupamn soothingly. 'I am very little hurt, I assure you'.

                                 

The spinster aunt insisted on his saying that he was not dead. Wardle asked her not to be a fool. Leaning on her arm Tupman reached the breakfast parlour. Wardle entered the room with a surgeon. The arm was dressed and the injury was pronounced to be very slight.

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