THE PICKWICK CLUB.
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was occasionally waved in the air with various gestures indicative of supremacy and defiance.
" I wonder," said Mr. Pickwick, stopping in the midst of a most sedate conversation with Ben Allen, bearing reference to the numerous good qualities of Mr. Winkle and his sister — " I wonder what all the people we pass, can see in us to make them stare so.
" It's a neat turn-out," replied Ben Allen, with something of pride in his tone. " They're not used to see this sort of thing every day, I dare say."
" Possibly," replied Mr. Pickwick. " It may be so. Perhaps it is."
Mr. Pickwick might very probably have reasoned himself into the belief that it really was, had he not, just then happening to look out of the coach window, observed that the looks of the passengers betokened anything but respectful astonishment, and that various telegraphic communications appeared to be passing between them and some persons outside the vehicle, whereupon it all at once occurred to him that these demonstrations might be, in some remote degree, referable to the humorous deportment of Mr. Robert Sawyer.
"I hope," said Mr. Pickwick, " that our volatile friend is committing no absurdities in that dickey behind."
" Oh dear, no," replied Ben Allen. " Except when he's elevated, Bob's the quietest creature breathing."
Here a prolonged imitation of a key-bugle broke upon the ear, suc- ceeded by cheers and screams, all of which evidently proceeded from the throat and lungs of the quietest creature breathing, or in plainer designation, of Mr. Bob Sawyer himself.
Mr. Pickwick and Mr. Ben Allen looked expressively at each other, and the former gentleman taking off his hat, and leaning out of the coach window till nearly the whole of his waistcoat was outside it, was at length enabled to catch a glimpse of his facetious friend.
Mr. Bob Sawyer was seated, not in the dickey, but on the roof of the chaise, with his legs as far asunder as they would conveniently go, wearing Mr. Samuel Weller's hat on one side of his head, and bearing in one hand a most enormous sandwich, while in the other he supported a goodly-sized case bottle, to both of which he applied himself with intense relish, varying the monotony of the occupation by an occasional howl, or the interchange of some lively badinage with any passing stranger. The crimson flag was carefully tied in an erect position to the rail of the dickey, and Mr. Samuel Weller, decorated with Bob Sawyer's hat, was seated in the centre thereof, discussing a twin sandwich with an animated countenance, the expression of which betokened his entire and perfect approval of the whole arrangement.
This was enough to irritate a gentleman with Mr. Pickwick's sense of propriety, but it was not the whole extent of the aggravation, for a stage-coach full, inside and out, was meeting them at the moment, and the astonishment of the passengers was very palpably evinced. The congratulations of an Irish family, too, who were keeping up with the chaise, and begging all the time, were of rather a boisterous descrip- tion ; especially those of its male head, who appeared to consider the
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