Episode 1490 – Rainbow Bridge Street Theatre | Pickwick 4 | Read With Me | SWM+ Sneak Peek
SCOOTER: Friends beyond the binary, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s time for the podcaster who’s about to go Pickwick with you. Pickwick…pick your…pickwicking. Oh, is there…is that before you do candle…? Yeah, I guess before you do candle-making you do pickwicking, where you pick your wicks. I prefer to call it choosing my…wick shopping. Okay, well, we’ll agree to disagree, then. Welcome to Sleep With Me, by the way. This will be a Read With Me episode. Later on we’ll be reading through the Pickwick Papers. This particular story is like humor, then something a little bit different bookended by humor again, along with me trying to figure out what happened, 'cause it was a little bit beyond my understanding what happened with this part of the story. But if you're new, welcome to Sleep With Me. This is a podcast to keep you company and take your mind off of stuff so you could fall asleep, to be your friend in the deep, dark night.
So, yeah, I’m here to help you out if I can. The way it works is I’m just a friendly voice in the deep, dark night. I ease you into bedtime and distract you while you fall asleep, kinda like a TV on in the other room or a show streaming under your pillow or a out-of-focus picture. What we got coming up is support so that paying for the podcast is optional for most listeners. It’s just for the super listeners that get the most out of the show, and the sponsors and listener support enable us to do that. Then there’s a long, meandering intro meant to ease you into bedtime, and then later on we’ll be reading from the Pickwick Papers. So, I’m glad you're here. I really appreciate you checking this podcast out, however you found it, and myself and a team of people work really hard. So, if you want to opt in, this podcast has made your life better, you could…these are the ways you could do that, either the sponsors or the listener support. Thanks.
Intro: Hey, are you up all night tossing, turning, mind racing? Trouble getting to sleep? Trouble staying asleep? Well, welcome. This is Sleep With Me, the podcast that puts you to sleep. We do it with a bedtime story. Alls you need to do is get in bed, turn out the lights, and press Play. I’m gonna do the rest. What I’m going to attempt to do is create a safe place where you could set aside whatever’s keeping you awake. It could be thoughts on your mind, thoughts that you're thinking about, thinking thoughts, so thoughts, feelings coming up for you, anything emotionally related to those thoughts, the past, the present, the future, so any feelings, physical sensations, changes in time, temperature, routine, work schedule. Maybe you work a different schedule. You could be going through something, in the middle of something, getting over something.
Whatever it is, I’m here to keep you company and take your mind off of stuff, to be your friend in the deep, dark night so you could just drift off and eventually fall asleep. The reason I make the show is twofold. One is that I know what it feels like for me in the deep, dark night; trouble getting to sleep, trouble staying asleep, trouble waking up, trouble falling asleep for twenty minutes and waking up, thoughts, feelings…I know what all that stuff feels like that for me, and I know it doesn't feel great. I know it feels challenging and I know during the day most people can't relate to it. When I tell them about it, they just kinda…oh, that’s too bad. Have you tried warm…? You know, that kinda stuff. Have you tried warm milk? Have you ever tried breathing through your nose? Just a suggestion. What about toe…? Whatever. What about tap…? You know what I like to do, tap-dance before bed. Really? Well, yeah, I’m an imaginary character in your mind. But yeah, that’s what I like to do, tap-dance before bed.
That’s what mother said. I thought that’s what she said. Stop your incessant tapping. Yeah, before bed, right before you get in bed. That’s what she…she didn't say the last part of it. But at bedtime, will you stop your incessant tapping? I said, tap, tap…I’m gonna tap, tap, tap those thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations right outta my head and body and feelings, and it’s worked for me thus far. Okay, just a couple clarifying questions even though we’re in the middle of a sleep podcast intro. One; so, you tap-dance before you get in bed? Correct, because bed’s…you're not…you can't tap-dance in bed. Even if you could, it’s not suggested to use your bed for that. Your bed’s for sleep. Okay, and do you have a tap…do you have a tap…? Oh no, I’ve got…believe it or not, I live in a place…my floor is hard and good for tapping. I don't have carpet or rugs. Okay, so, not a tap-specific floor, but your floor is tappable. Oh, is it. Tap, tap, tapping at bedtime. You know it.
Okay, and do you have tap…bedtime tap shoe…? Like, are your tap shoes used at bedtime different than…? You know what I’m saying? Are you asking if my day tapping and my night tapping are two different shoes? Yeah, that’s…yes. Great question. Initially no, but as it became a more part of my imaginary life to tap-dance before bed — which the more I talk about it, the more reasonable it kind of seems on some level — yeah, I started to adjust, and I do have tap slip…yeah, they say, are those tap shoes you're tap, tap, tapping incessantly with? For a brief time I lived in New York. They wouldn't say it like that exactly, but that was the message they were getting to me. They’d say stuff like, I’m gonna remove your tap shoes for you, gently, and tap, tap…tap friend…tap friendstration. Okay. But then I designed…yeah, I call them tap slippers, obviously. So yeah, I have tap slippers. So, they're slippers with taps. Well, no, not exactly, because…I mean, that depends.
You can't just take any slipper and put taps on there. I mean, you could, but it’s not gonna work. So, you've designed your own tap slipper. Oh, within your imagination. Yes, I have. Within your imagination, though. Well, a little bit easier. We don't even need a 3D printer up there. Okay, alright. Well, thank you for coming by and sharing me…sharing with me. Well yeah, I was just…I was listening to you start your podcast and I said, well, if he knew to tap-dance before bed, maybe he wouldn't have to deal with thoughts, feelings, physical…thank you. Thanks for helping…thank you for offering me some insight and a possible experiment, and also…yeah. So…oh, sorry, everybody. That was a little interlude caused by my imagination. See, Willy Wonka gets the world of imagination that can run an entire candy factory. I have an imaginary person that did invent tap slippers, but only imaginary ones.
So, whatever is keeping you awake…I guess the thing is I know what it feels like for me, and I think I can relate to how it feels like for you. Even when that person’s trying to be helpful, it feels dismissive or it feels like I’m not seen or heard. But it’s also like just being in that struggle, whether I’m in a room with somebody else or in a home with somebody else or I’m by myself, it kinda feels…it has strong feelings associated with it. However it feels for you, even if I can't relate to how it feels for you, I can respect it and I can feel for it. But I also know that there’s other people listening right now who can strongly relate to how you feel at bedtime, that have been through something similar, and they're somewhere else in the world and they're rooting for you. Someone you don't know right now is rooting for you that you get the rest you need so your life is more manageable and that if this podcast helps you, that you do it on a regular basis, then you could be rooting for a new listener.
So, yeah, I hope and other listeners hope, too, that you get the rest you need on a regular basis so your life’s better tomorrow, that you don't have to dread bedtime. That’s the spirit of the show and that’s what I hope to accomplish for you or with you. Maybe I’ll start…you say, what happened to Scoots? Well, he stopped…a sleep podcast…he started Duller Murray Studios. It’s a tap-dancing at bedtime…didn’t work out. He actually had no clients. He spent most of his time hoping that elves would appear to make his tap slippers for him. Wow, it’s like a podcast episode within a podcast episode, huh? It is, I guess. So, yeah, maybe I’ll remember this one day and do a episode about it, but…so yeah, that’s why I make the show. I know what it feels like and I know you deserve better. So, the way I do the show is I send my voice across the deep, dark night. I use lulling, soothing, creaky, dulcet tones, pointless meanders, and superfluous tangents.
I go off topic, I get mixed up, I forget what I was talking about, and then I go into some sort of imaginary interlude that seems real enough to me. I mean, it seems somewhat reasonable. That’s the whole thing with this show, is like…man, what are you saying? Almost makes sense, and that’s kinda the key to the show to get used to, 'cause when you first get here, you're gonna be skeptical, you're gonna be doubtful, you're gonna be frustrated. Welcome. But of course you're gonna feel that way, 'cause you're like, does this guy know he doesn't know what he’s talking about? He doesn't quite know what he’s talking about. But at the same time I can't totally discount the idea of tap-dancing at bedtime. I mean, it’d be more like a slow tapping. Now, if anybody was in the room, it’d be…you'd be single really fast. Or, yeah, if it was…don't do it in New York…don't do any bedtime tap-dancing in apartment buildings, please. But yeah, then we’d just invent silent tap shoes. Of course we would.
This may have already been a episode of Sleep With Me. But so, yeah, most people don't like the show when they first get here. In fact, hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of thousand, probably a million people, have sent me e-mails over the past eleven years saying, at first I loathed you. I couldn't stand the show. Then I listened a second time and I was like, huh, this isn't working. Then on the second or third try I realized I woke up the next day, and I said, oh, everything he says is both…he’s serious and in jest at the same time, and he really is just here to take your mind off of stuff. It’s different than putting me to sleep and…yeah, 'cause this is a podcast you just barely listen to versus listening to it and paying attention. You can pay attention, but you don't have to. The show kinda makes sense but it doesn't totally make sense, and that takes some adjusting, too.
Here's the thing; if the show never works for you or it stopped working or something about the show no longer brings you joy…'cause that’s really what it’s about, is like some low-level of joy in our hearts that’s somewhere out there. There’s somebody…even if it’s within my mind tap-dancing at bedtime…and it makes them happy, and that someone somewhere out there who…their experience at bedtime is like mine and they're resting now, those things are joyful to me. If they stop being joyful to you or they don't work for you, I have a website set up, sleepwithmepodcast.com/nothankyou. That has a link to other sleep podcasts and sleepy stuff if you found the show and it just doesn't work or you just don't like me, or your feelings about the podcast have changed and it doesn't spark joy for you anymore; it sparks other feelings. Just go to sleepwithmepodcast.com/nothankyou, 'cause that’s fine. I’m still here. I still want you to fall asleep, right?
That’s been the case over the whole eleven, twelve years I’ve been making the show. So, most people don't like the show, it takes a lot of getting used to, it’s also a podcast, yeah, you just barely listen to. Actually, even though I’ve been doing this — probably when you're hearing this — over twelve years, it doesn't put you to sleep. It’s a sleep podcast that’s been around before that was a thing, but it doesn't put you to sleep. I’m here to keep you company while you fall asleep, to take your mind off of stuff, to be your bore-friend, your bore-sib, your bore-bae, your neighbore, your borebie, your bores, your boreman, your Boris Borelaf, your bore-bruh, your bore-sib, your bore-cuz, your bore-friend, your best bore-friend f’eva, to keep you company while you fall asleep. There’s no pressure to fall asleep with this show. I’m gonna be here over an hour or about an hour. There’s 600+ other shows in this ad-supported podcast feed ready to go for you because there’s no pressure to fall asleep.
There’s people listening who can't sleep at all and who need a break during the day, and I’m here to…from the beginning to the end for them and for you, whether you're listening or not, whether you're awake or asleep. My job is still to be here to keep you company and take your mind off of stuff. So, just see how it goes and see what it’s like having a new bore-friend. Or, regular listeners, pretty good, huh? I don't know that we’ve…have we tap-danced at bedtime before? Prob…it feels like a concept I’ve talked about before, but I like the idea of these tap slippers. Are they like ballet slippers? No, they're tap slippers. Yeah, the ballet slippers are for ballet any time of the day. Tap slippers are for tap-dancing at bedtime. Oh, thanks for that. Yeah, I just wanted to clarify. Okay, well, that’s good. So, what else do you need to know other than that stuff? Oh, the structure of the show. The structure of the show particularly throws new people off. So, if you're a new listener, this is why I go through it.
But it can throw regular listeners off, too. Our show does have a very specific structure, but it is adjustable as you become a regular listener and you decide you want to adapt to the podcast in a different way. So, let me just tell you why we structure the show the way we do. It’s basically to benefit the maximum amount of people we can, 'cause most people like listening to a ad-supported version linearly, and maybe they just listen while they're going through a tough time or whatever. So, the show starts off with a greeting; friends beyond the binary, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, so you feel seen and welcomed in. Then there’s support so that paying for the show is optional, just for the people that get the most out of the podcast. Then there’s a long, meandering intro, and that’s a show within a show meant to ease you into bedtime. It introduces the podcast slowly, and then I go off topic. Tonight it was about tap slippers. That’s different every time.
So, the intro follows a familiar structure but it’s different every time so that it reassures you but it also isn't predictable, because I think those are two keys to easing you into bedtime, in my opinion. Also, the intro goes on and on for ten to twenty minutes to ease you into bedtime as you're getting ready for bed, as you're in bed getting comfortable, as you're winding down doing some chill activity, whatever it is. While there is a couple percentage of people that fall asleep really fast during the intro, for most people it eases them into bedtime. If you decide the intros are not for you, we’ve got a whole ‘nother podcast out there, Bedtime Stories from Sleep With Me, that you could listen to that has bedtime stories from Sleep With Me out there. So, you could check that out. Then…that’s just stories. Then if you support the show on Sleep With Me+, you get all…you get story-only episodes and ad-free episodes and bonus episodes, whatever. But for most people, the intro is a part of their wind down.
It’s kind of a time we hang out and talk about tap…imagining would that work. Also, people are probably imagining…Scoots, would you do it? I’d say, well, I don't know if I have the wherewithal to design tap slippers, but I could do some silent…I could try to do some silent tapping at bedtime tonight. I mean, I did take…I shuffle ball toe. I can do that. Shuffle, ball…I don't know what…shuffle ball toe. Yeah, I could try to do…I’ll try to do that tonight for everybody, and I’ll try to do it with…to keep my balance on both legs. That’s the kinda person I am. I’m willing to tap at bed…if needed, I’m willing to tap silently. Also, if I got a neighbor…if I moved into a multi…apartment building, I could use…I'd prefer not to use tap in an aggressive way, or pass…I guess that would be…is that passive-aggressive? If you're tapping…no tapping after 10:00, except with tap slippers. Tap slippers silent edition for tapping after 10:00. You’ll be tap, tap, tapping off into dreamland.
So yeah, it’s…that’s the intro. Then there’s support again so that paying for the show is optional, and then there will be a reading from the Pickwick Papers after that in just a few minutes, I guess. All told, I’ll be here for just over an hour, and I’m really glad you're here. Myself and a team of people really work hard on this show. I know it’s hard to believe, but we do, and everyone that works here yearns and strives. We really want to help you fall asleep. So, thanks again for coming by, and here's a couple of ways…if this podcast is valuable to you, it makes your life better, and you're willing to support it back, here's a couple ways you could do that.
Hey everybody, this is Scoots. This is a episode of our read-through of the Pickwick Papers. We’ve been doing this on Sleep With Me+ for about a year, and now we're…it’s finally making its way out into the public feed. So, I really hope you enjoy it. If you're on Sleep With Me+ and you're hearing this, you got this episode about a year ago. So, make sure you're checking your full episode feeds or your story-only episode feeds, and don't forget to check your bonus feeds every once in a while. But this has been a really enjoyable series to cover with the friends meandering throughout England and friendship. So, I really hope you enjoy this episode of Sleep With Me and Read With Me the Pickwick Papers. Thanks and goodnight, everybody.
Alright everybody, we're back with Episode 4, I believe, of Pickwick Papers. It’s quite — for a bedtime story — a exciting time, because we had almost two competing stories that were about to be told, because we had the adventure from our last episode with whoever…TT and Snodgrass? I can't even remember, to be honest. But they…or Winkle, maybe? I get them…I get all the characters confused in-between readings. But we had met Dismal Jimmy, and so, we had the…said, well, maybe Dismal Jimmy should tell their story first before we find out about this mistaken coat situation, 'cause it was just a mistaken coat situation. I guess TT wasn't involved 'cause it was Winkle and Snodgrass, 'cause TT and the other person were involved. But let’s go to The Stroller's Tale, because that’s the next thing, which was taken in the club records, The Stroller's Tale. There’s nothing of the marvellous in what I’m going to relate, said the dismal man. There’s nothing even uncommon in it.
Want and frowny faces are too common in so many situations of life, and they don't necessarily deserve more notice than is bestowed on the most ordinary vicissitudes of human nature. I have thrown these few notes together because the subject of them was well known to me for many years. I traced his progress step by step until at last he reached the frowny, frowny, frowniness that made him put his hand on his brow. The person I’m speaking of was an actor who was having a tough time, a pantomime actor. He, like a sleep podcaster, had a tendency to be in his cups very often. Now, in his better days, before he had become enfeebled by dissipation and controlled by things that he thought he had control over but he didn't, he had been the recipient of a good salary, which, if he had been careful and prudent, he might have continued to receive for some years.
Not many, because this lifestyle is not sustainable; taxing, low energy, loss of physical powers, and you get into a subsistence state and then you move on from that. But this particular character, his besetting challenge gained so fast upon him, however, that it was found impossible to employ him in the situations in which he was really useful to in the theatre. The public house had a fascination for him which he could not resist. So, things kinda were certain — if he was anything like Scoots — that he was…he stood at a turning point. He may not even have known it. If he persevered on the same course, what would happen? He did persevere on that course. Most could guess the results. He could obtain no engagement, no employ at all. Everybody who was at all acquainted with theatrical matters knows of…they said, hey, please…your welcome is no longer at this establishment.
It wasn't personal either, because they had encountered over the history of time this is a thing that happens, these people in the stage of even a large or small establishment sometimes hang about; not regularly engaged actors or ballet people, procession men, tumblers, and so forth, who were taken on during the run of a pantomime or a special event, and then let go until the production of another spectacle, a heavy spectacle, occasions a new demand for their services. To this mode this man was compelled to resort, taking the chair every night at some inexpensive theatrical house that could give him a more…few shillings more weekly and enabled him to gratify his old propensity. But even this resource shortly failed him. His irregularities were too great to admit of his earning, and the small amount a wretched pittance that he might have thus procured…he was actually reduced to a state where he was spending all of it on things he did not…he needed but didn't necessarily need, and only procuring a trifle occasionally by borrowing of some old companion or by obtaining an appearance at one or the other of the commonest of minor theatres.
When he did earn anything, it was spent in the old way. Oh boy, does this hit home for Scoots. About this time, when he had taken…he had been existing for upwards of a year — no one knew how — I, the narrator said, had a short engagement at one of the theatres on the Surrey side of the water. Here I saw this man who I had lost sight of for some time, for I had been traveling in the provinces, and he had been sulking in the lanes and alleys of London. I was dressed to leave the house, and he was crossing the stage on my way out when he tapped me on the shoulder. Never shall I forget the feeling I had deep inside me when our eyes met as I turned around and our eyes met. Now, he was dressed in the pantomimes and all the absurdity of one of those red-nosed fellows, but not a red nose from his cups, but a red nose…one day…a small carriage that many pour out of, with poofs and things.
He was dressed in that, and these were figures in a special dance that was gonna be portrayed…that had been portrayed before on canvas. His sight I did not associate with joy and laughter but of frowning and saying, nah, never mind. I’d like to rest for a while. I mean, it was such a contrast what I saw behind his eyes and what I felt inside me and his fantastic dress. It was quite the contrast; the paint, the nose. Even that was not well done, either. He had chalk covering him and it was something that no description could convey an adequate idea of how it felt for me on the inside. To even now it makes those goosey gooses stand on my skin. His voice was hollow and tremulous as he took me aside, and in broken words he recounted a long story of his poor luck and privations and the people who had let him down. As usual he had an urgent request for a loan of a trifling sum of money.
I put a few shillings in his hand, and as I turned away I heard the roar of laughter which followed his first tumble on the stage in a performance. A few nights afterwards a boy came to me and put a scrap of paper in my hand, on which were scrawled a few words in pencil saying that this guy was asking if he could…if I could come see him after the performance at his lodgings in some street. I forget the name of it now, but it was no great distance from the theatre. I promised to comply as soon as I could get away, and after the curtain fell, I sallied forth on my melancholy errand. It was late, for I had been playing in the last piece, and as it was a benefit night, the performances had been protracted to an unusual length. It was a dark, cold night with a chill, damp wind which blew the rain heavily against the windows in the house fronts.
Pools of water had collected in the narrow and little-frequented streets, and as many of the thinly-scattered oil lamps had been blown out by the wind, the walk was not only a comfortless one but an uncertain one. I had fortunately taken the right course, however, and succeeded, after a little difficulty, in finding the house to which I had been directed, a coal shed with one story above it, in the back room of which lay the object of my search. The man’s wife met me on the stairs, and she was not happy, either. She said that he had just dozed off, and she let me softly in and placed a chair for me at the bedside. Wow, this…the imagery of this — this is Scoots here — is very archetypal even though the archetypal image takes place far in the future. The man was lying with his face turned towards the wall, and as he took no heed on my presence, I had the leisure to observe the place in which I found myself. He was lying on an old bedstead which had turned up during the day.
The tattered remains of a checkered curtain were drawn around the bed’s head to exclude the wind, but it still, however, made its way into the comfortless room through the numerous holes in the door and blew to and fro every instant. There was a low cinder in a rusty, unfixed grate, and an old three-corner stained table with some things on it; bottles and domestic artifacts, and a woman was sat in a chair nearby. There was a couple of shelves with plates and cups and saucers, a pair of stage shoes, a couple other things below it, big shoes that make a squeaky sound. With the exception of some rags and bundles which had been carelessly thrown in the corner of the room, these were the only things in the apartment. I had little time to note these particulars and to mark the heavy snoring of the man before he was aware of my presence. In the restless attempts to procure some easy resting place for his head, he tossed his hand out of the bed, and it fell upon mine.
He started up and stared eagerly in my face. Mr. Hutley John, said his wife. Mr. Hutley, you sent for him tonight, you know. Ah, said the man, passing his hand across his forehead. Hutley, Hutley. Let me see. He seemed endeavoring to collect his thoughts for a few seconds, and then grasping me by the wrist, he said, hey, stay by my side, please. Stay by my side, old fellow. She’s fed up with me for sure. I looked at his wife and I said, has he been long so? Yes, since yesterday, she said. John, John, don't you know me? He said, hey, she’s on my case, man. You gotta get her off my case. Can you have her leave us alone, please? I’d rather it just be the two of us, as he stared at his wife with apprehension and whispered in my ear; I have many mistakes I’ve made, and I think that I’m ready to stop digging, I believe, I hope, but I’d rather it just be the two of us alone. He relaxed his grasp and sank back, exhausted, on the pillow. But I knew too well what all this meant.
If I could have entertained any doubt of it for an instant, one glance at his wife’s face and how she was kind of…how it stirred the feelings within me, I could tell the real state of the case. Maybe you should leave us, I said to the poor wife. You can't help him. Perhaps he’ll be calmer if we're just alone. She retired out of the man’s sight. He opened his eyes after a few seconds and looked anxiously around. Is it just the two of us? He eagerly inquired. Yes, yes, said I. Just the two of us. I’ll tell you what, Jim, said the man in a low voice. She’s judge…she’s been judging me. There’s something in her eyes, and I can tell she feels…she senses something, something…she senses something. I mean, all night I tossed and turned, and whenever I started up from my sleep, she was looking at me in this way. He drew me closer to him as he said in a deep whisper, Jim, it must be something beyond this world, I think. I think she’s…I don't know. But I don't know how she’s put up with all this, anyway.
I sickened at the thought of this long course and all these things that had probably taken place which I knew not of but I was aware of in my heart and must have occurred to produce such an impression on all the people involved. I could say nothing in reply, for who could offer hope or consolation to this person before me? I sat there for upwards of two hours, during which this time he tossed about, murmuring and saying things and restlessly throwing his arms here and there, and turning constantly from side to side. At length he fell into a state of partial sleep in which the mind wanders uneasily scene to scene and place to place without the control of reason, but still without being able to divest itself of an indescribable sense of unease. From his incoherent wanderings that this was the case, and knowing that in all probability he’s…he was in a state of…he was in a middle state, right? Either he was gonna make one choice to change or to stop digging or not.
I knew in all probability there was nothing I could do, so I left his side, promising his wife that I would repeat my visit the next evening, and if necessary, sit up with him during the night. I kept my promise. The last four and twenty hours have produced quite a change. His eyes seemed to go to a new place and he seemed very…there was something going on. But I took the seat that I had occupied the night before, and there I sat for hours listening to him going on and on and on in his sleep. Alls I knew is I could tell him it was gonna be okay in the sense…in my heart that I didn't understand, and hold his hand, 'cause I knew it was time for him to…that this…that he would go to another realm where maybe things would be better for him. They no longer needed to be distorted for the amusement of a boisterous gallery. Any time…sometimes he would laugh and laugh as the character which he played in the pantomime.
But then something changed, and it is a touching thing to hear the mind reverting to the ordinary occupations and pursuits, and this calm that takes place as you get ready to say, okay, I guess that rainbow bridge is here for me to cross over whenever I wish. It’s quite a thing. The theatre in the public house were the chief themes of this man’s wanderings. It was evening, he fancied, and he had a part to play that night. It was late and he must head out, so he almost started a show in his wanderings and ramblings, started to tell a tale of his character; the large shoes…he said, bring me my large shoes. It’s time for me to go. I have a show to do on the bridge. What stage will you go to? I said to him. The Rainbow Bridge Stage. Where is that stage? Just across the way. Here, put…paint my face and prepare my nose. I’ll be performing a solo act tonight, so I won't need a carriage full of my peers. I wonder what they pay on the Rainbow Bridge Stage, he said. It will be quite a show.
But then what if they decide not to hire me? He feebly bemoaned. There was a pause and then he started to say, oh, hello, hello. He started to do some of his bits in quite a voice that was different than his, the last jokes he had learned, even. So, he was still working on his material. Then he rose up in bed and started…even though he believed he was on the stage, tumbling and doing…I don't know, acting out his jokes with his physical body. He was acting. He was at the theater. Then a minute’s silence went by, and he murmured a roaring song of hilarity to him, and the room seemed to warm up. I said, what is happening? This is like…I felt like I was at…I really was transported to a stage that didn't exist. Then he said, okay, I’m happy now. Fill up my glass. Who’s that there? He was talking to the audience. Who is that? Give me more applause.
Then he started to walk like…walk the room like he was walking the stage, and talking about…okay, I need…almost like…then he was backstage and we were backstage, and he was saying, we gotta set up for the next act. He said our job was to keep the show going. Then he again looked out and he said, oh, this theatre…oh, okay, that was just the warm-up stage. This is a larger stage here. I must be on the other side of the bridge now. This must be the bridge…Rainbow Bridge…Bridge Street Theatre. Oh, look at the audience. He said, there’s so many of my fans and friends and family in the audience there. He put…meanwhile I said, let’s get back in bed, and I’ll hold you and pat you. It seemed to be…he seemed to be in a slumber and not a slumber at the same time. But I held him and I closed my eyes for a few minutes. Then he raised himself up and he started to bow to the stage, and then he again started to bow like there was a curtain call or whatever you call it when you get two rounds of applause and everybody stands up.
A smile came over his face, and his consciousness returned, for he evidently knew me, and we all started to hug one another, his wife and his neighbors and him. We held each other close and tight, and then he bowed again and bowed again. He said…and then the whole room changed once again into that…and I — this may be strange to say — saw the rainbow bridge. He got on the rainbow bridge and waved and bowed to us, and we applauded and said ‘bravo’ and ‘huzzah’. Then the stage…the curtains closed, and it was quite an impressive moment. It would afford us — narrator returning to the original narrator and not the story narrator — the highest gratification to be enabled to record Mr. Pickwick’s opinion of the foregoing attitude…anecdote and maybe Scoots’ reinterpretation. We have little doubt that we should have been enabled to present it for our readers, but there was something surprising that happened.
Mr. Pickwick had replaced on the table the glass which, during the last few sentences of the tale, had been retained in his hands, and he had just made up his mind to speak, indeed. We have the authority of Mr. Snodgrass’ notebook for stating that he actually opened his mouth when the waiter entered the room and said, some gentlemen to see you, sir. Now, it has been conjectured that Mr. Pickwick was on the point of delivering some remarks which would have enlightened the world, if not the Thames, and maybe even to all the way to the future of Bill W, but he was interrupted, for he gazed sternly on the waiter’s countenance and then looked around on the company generally as if seeking for information relative to the newcomers. Oh, said Mr. Winkle, rising, some friends of mine. Show them in. Very pleasant fellows, added Mr. Winkle after the waiter had retired. They're members of the 97th, whose acquaintance I made rather oddly this morning. But that story…ooh, quite a story we just heard.
But it’s time to change gears. I think you'll like these gentlemen very much. That changed things, for Mr. Pickwick’s equanimity was at once restored. The waiter returned and ushered three gentlemen into the room. LT Tappleton, said Mr. Winkle. Tap, Taps, Tappleton, maybe I’ll start calling you. This is Mr. Pickwick, Doc Payne, Mr. Pickwick, Mr. Snodgrass you've seen before, and this is my friend TT, Tupman, Mr. Tupman. Dr. Payne, Dr. Slammer, Doc Slammer, Mr. Pickwick, Mr. Tupman, Doc Slammer. What? Here Mr. Winkle suddenly paused, for strong emotion was visible on the countenance of both Mr. Tupman and the doctor. I have met this gentleman before, said the doc with marked emphasis. Indeed, said Mr. Winkle. That person, too, if I’m not mistaken, said the doc, bestowing a scrutinizing glance on the green-coated stranger. I think I gave that person a very pressing invitation last night which he thought proper to decline.
Saying which, the doc scowled magnanimously on the stranger and whispered to his friend, LT Tappleton. You don't say so, said that gentleman at the conclusion of the whisper. I do indeed, replied Slammer. You're bound to have him dance-off right here and now, murmured the owner of the camp stool with great importance. Do be quiet, Payne, interposed LT. Will you allow me to ask you, sir, he said, addressing Mr. Pickwick, who was considerably mystified by this very unpolite byplay. Will you allow me to ask you, sir, whether that person belongs to your party? No, sir, replied Pickwick. He is a guest of ours. He is a member of your club, or am I mistaken? Said the lieutenant inquiringly. Certainly not, replied Mr. Pickwick. And he never wears your club button? Said the lieutenant. No, never, replied the astonished Mr. Pickwick.
Tappleton turned around to Slammer, and with a scarcely perceptible shrug of his shoulder as if implying some doubt of the accuracy of his recollection, Doc Slammer looked incredibly unpleased but confounded, and camp stool Payne was beaming with countenance at Pickwick for not knowing. Sir, said Doc Slammer, addressing TT, Tupman, in a tone which made that gentleman start as perceptively as if someone had tried to tickle his armpits without…surprisingly. You were at the ball here last night. TT gasped, faint affirmative, looking very hard at Mr. Pickwick all the while. That person was your companion, said the doctor, pointing to the still-unmoved stranger. TT admitted to that fact. Now, sir, said the…said Doc to the stranger in the green coat. I ask you once again in the presence of these gentlemen whether you chose to give me your card and to receive the treatment of a gentleman or whether you impose upon me the necessity of personally chastising you on the spot.
Stay, sir, said Mr. Pickwick. I really can't allow this matter to go any further chastising in my presence. I’m the leader here. Any chastising…I mean, the tonal shift in this story…I know; we were just hearing a really different story. So, all of us are quite…it was both a beautiful story and it stirred something all within us. Now you all come in talking about chastising. This is quite a protuber…I don't know what a protuberance is, but we're gonna need some explanation, TT, Tupman, to please recount the circumstances. Mr. Tupman thus solemnly adjured, stating the case in a few words, touched slightly on the borrowing of the coat, and talked about it having been done after dinner and wound up with a little pentience of his own account and left the stranger to clear himself as best he could. He was apparently about to proceed to do so when Tappleton, who had been watching him with great curiosity, said with considerable scorn, haven't I seen you at the theatre, sir?
Certainly, replied the unabashed stranger. He’s a strolling actor, said Tappleton, turning to Slammer. He acts in the piece of the fifty-two getup at the Rochester Theater tomorrow night. So, you cannot proceed in this affair, Slammer. It’s impossible. Quite, said the dignified Payne. Scoots here; this is incredibly confusing, but…sorry to have placed you in this disagreeable situation, said Tappleton, addressing Pickwick. Allow me to suggest that the best way of avoiding a recurrence of such scenes in the future will be to more…be more select in your choice of companions. Good evening, sir. The lieutenant and Tappleton left the room in a hurry. Allow me to say, sir, said the irascible Payne, that if I had been Tappleton or if I had been Slammer, I would have not been polite…as polite as them, and I would have danced right off with you. Payne’s my name, sir, Doc Payne. Good evening.
Having concluded his speech and uttered the last three words in a loud key, he walked majestically after his friend, followed closely by Slammer, who said nothing but contented himself by a withering look at everyone in the room. Now, Pickwick was quite incensed at this whole thing. He was extremely bewildered, and those feelings swelled the noble breast of Pickwick, almost bursting during the delivery of all of this defiance. He stood transfixed to the spot, gazing on the vacancy where the three people that just left. But the sound of the door closing recalled him to himself, and then he said…he started to express his displeasure as he put his hand on the door. In another instant he said, I’m gonna go dance off with Payne. But I think I’m gonna go ask those guys to dance off. Pickwick said thus. Mr. Snodgrass said, no, no, no, let’s sit down, let’s sit down. Sit down. Winkle, Tupman, this is…he’s not dancing off with anybody, especially not a cause like this.
Let me go dance off with them, said Pickwick. No, no, no, said Snodgrass. It took the united murmurings of the whole company to get Pickwick to sit down. Leave them alone. They're not worth the time, said the green-coated stranger. Brandy and water. Jolly old gentlemen. Lots of pluck. Drink it up. This is capital stuff. Having previously tested the virtues of a bumper, which had been mixed by the dismal man, the stranger applied the glass to Mr. Pickwick’s mouth, and the remainder of its contents rapidly disappeared. There was a short pause, and the brandy and water had done its work, and the amiable countenance of Mr. Pickwick was fast recovering its customary expression. They are not worth your notice, said the dismal man. You're right, said Pickwick. They are not. I’m embarrassed to even have been thinking I was gonna dance-off…the warmth that stirred me to want to dance off with them. Drop your chair to the table, sir. The dismal man readily complied.
A circle was again formed around the table and harmony once more prevailed. Some lingering irritability appeared to find a resting place in Mr. Winkle’s bosom, occasioned possibly by the temporary abstraction of his coat, though it is scarcely reasonable to suppose that so slight a circumstance can have excited even a passing temper in any Pickwickian’s breast, except for the possible dance-offs. With the exception of their good…with this exception, their good humor was completely restored and the evening concluded with the conviviality with which it had begun.
Alright everybody, this is Scoots here. I’m just doing a little research for the end of this episode, because I’m incredibly confused of like, why the fact that he was a actor. Maybe I’m just reading it wrong in my head, or my understanding of it. So, it might be obvious to everybody else listening. But just in case, I’m trying to just look this up. My confusion is…okay, so basically over the past two episodes or maybe even three episodes, TT and the green-coated stranger went to a party, created a big spectacle. They had taken somebody else’s coat, then Snodgrass and Winkle took Winkle’s coat without his permission. So, then Winkle got in trouble, almost had a dance-off with Slammer and the other guy, Templeton or whatever. Then this whole other story that was quite the story came up. Then they…this reveal comes that they show up and they're like, wait a second, you're the guys that caused the trouble at the party last night, not those two that we thought caused the trouble.
‘Cause the other guy wasn't even there; he was just friends with Slammer. I don't think either of the other two guys were actually at the party; only Slammer was. But then they said, well, wait a second, this guy’s from the theatre and he was performing for the 52nd and Rochester. So, now we can't do anything. We gotta go. So, that’s my confusion, right? So, I’m trying to figure this out. Okay, that’s not what I want. I don't want books. Okay, that’s a couple things. Okay, let’s see what we got. Okay, that didn't help. So, let me keep looking here. Alright, we got summary of Chapter 2. Okay, they become…then they…oh, so that’s Chapter 2. We’re actually on Chapter 3. Okay, Stroller’s Tale. The Stroller's Tale. Okay, this might be the actual story, not the summary. Alright, I don't think that’s gonna help me. That’s just the reading. Okay, this one…close…okay, Chapter 3. Okay, so, then they tell this tale…they tell the tale. Slammer says, hey, give me your card or we’ll dance off.
Pickwick tries to calm things. Tupman recounts what happened. They recognize him as a strolling actor. Oh, it’s ungentlemanly to dance off with a strolling actor, as it would be…they're not fancy enough? Is that it? Let me see. Strolling actor…Dickens. Okay…oh, it turns out this character may have a name, but…okay, let’s see. There is some helpful notes. Let’s just go to strolling actor only. Strolling players on Wikipedia. Okay, strolling players were traveling theatre groups during the Tudor and subsequent periods. They toured the country, performed in barns and courtyards of inns, including Robin Hood. But they thought…the government said these were not the great things. That’s it. That’s not really helpful, either. Okay, this is from…okay, table of contents, Chapter 2 to 3. Will this actually…? I mean, is this gonna work? Okay, this is from CliffNotes. Okay, this is The Stroller's Tale. That’s Chapter 4.
We don't want to…each Pickwickian…Dismal Jimmy…the chapter also presents a pairing of opposites, the Pickwick group and the other…Slammer. Oh, so CliffNotes takes a really harsh view of…covetous Slammer, trouble-making Payne, and officious Tappleton. These are anti-Pickwickians motivated by base instincts. So, they…okay. There’s a real constant…this is a real thing between…the diffuse episodic surface of comedy. Okay, so these are snooty dudes, I guess is the main thing, and they think…so, I guess my take is…my understanding, though I can keep looking, is that…just scrolling through to see if there’s any more. This is from MIT. But a lot of this stuff is just the book. So, I guess my thing is that…I guess I was kinda looking at it like TT and the stranger…for some reason the stranger has just rubbed me wrong from the beginning. So, I guess part of me is getting in the way of the story. So, this is good moving forward.
So, maybe my displeasure at the stranger has clouded my judgment as a literature interpreter. So, basically my understanding is…I mean, TT and the stranger, they're more boisterous, and because they're in the Pickwick Club, we kinda look…supposed to look at them with a little bit looser lens. But I mean, I guess the thing is they got…I think TT should have just not got his friend in trouble or borrowed his coat. But whatever. So, then Snodgrass and Winkle get in trouble. They almost have this dance-off with Slammer, 'cause Slammer…originally Slammer’s friends weren’t at the ball. They just know that Slammer was embarrassed at the ball by some guy in a Pickwick coat. Then they make up, they almost dance off, and then that confusion’s relieved. Then we have this…they go back, and the next day they're about to…or that night or whatever at dinner they're gonna tell what happened.
Then we hear The Stroller's Tale, which is kind of a tale about…I mean, it’s just a tale about people like me that can't drink and how to even do that, and that that person ends up…they have a nice, theatrical ending. Then these guys show up for dinner 'cause they became friends with Snodgrass and Winkle, and immediately they realize that’s TT and…but the thing was at the party they started trouble. They're like, oh, we're nobody, especially the stranger. So, I don't think I’m totally out of hand saying, I’m not so sure about this dude. So, yeah, I guess I’m like…but so, then…but then they are snooty because they're like, oh, you're an actor. We don't dance-off with actors. We only dance off with people of the upper crust, like people that are in clubs like Pickwick Clubs or us. So, I guess…just quick looking up anything…I guess this guy’s in here for a while. So, he was played by Orson Welles. I won't reveal the character’s name yet 'cause it hasn't come up.
But yeah, he was played by Orson Welles in the radio production in 1938. So, yeah. Okay, well, we got a little bit resolved. So, I guess…and then Slammer got kinda left by his friends. Pickwick got really irritable because he was like, this is unacceptable. They've insulted us or whatever. I’ll dance off. Because basically they were like, this guy in the green coat’s no good for you. So, we’ll see if that plays out or not throughout this tale. But I guess since I’m making commentary now, I found this incredibly surprising. I’m not reading ahead, so I’m only reading this when I’m reading it with you. So, I guess…yeah, and then trying to rewrite it, and then we edit it, the episodes. But yeah, I didn't quite expect that tale. It was very hilarious, but then we had this interlude that was a somewhat somber tale, and then immediately the tone changes again to this I guess confused situation and bonding of friendship. But yeah, it’s really interesting.
It’s hard for me to process 'cause I’m actually reading it for the first time with you, which I think is cool because it…I don't know, it enables me to keep going, 'cause this is pretty…a lot of material. So anyway, thanks so much for listening. I hope you're enjoying these Read With Me episodes, and sorry to interrupt the story, but I think that’s a key part of making it as a sleep podcast. So, thanks and goodnight.
[End of recording]
Transcription performed by LeahTranscribes
