“They are here,” added the count, tapping his forehead significantly. “Large book at home⁠—full of notes⁠—music, picture, science, potry, poltic; all tings.”

“The word politics, sir,” said Mr. Pickwick, “comprises in itself, a difficult study of no inconsiderable magnitude.”

“Ah!” said the count, drawing out the tablets again, “ver good⁠—fine words to begin a chapter. Chapter forty-seven. Poltics. The word poltic surprises by himself⁠—” And down went Mr. Pickwick’s remark, in Count Smorltork’s tablets, with such variations and additions as the count’s exuberant fancy suggested, or his imperfect knowledge of the language occasioned.

“Count,” said Mrs. Leo Hunter.