to the house. He'd ha' sent some saddle-horses, but he thought you'd rather walk, being a cold day."
"Yes, yes," said Mr. Pickwick, hastily, for he remembered how they had travelled over nearly the same ground on a previous occasion. "Yes, we would rather walk. Here, Sam!"
"Sir," said Mr. Weller.
"Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put the packages into the cart, and then ride on with him. We will walk forward at once."
Having given this direction, and settled with the coachman, Mr. Pickwick and his three friends struck into the footpath across the fields, and walked briskly away, leaving Mr. Weller and the fat boy confronted together for the first time. Sam looked at the fat boy with great astonishment, but without saying a word; and began to stow the luggage rapidly away in the cart, while the fat boy stood quietly by, and seemed to think it a very interesting sort of thing to see Mr. Weller working by himself.
"There," said Sam, throwing in the last carpet-bag. "There they are!"
"Yes," said the fat boy, in a very satisfied tone, "there they are."
"Vell, young twenty stun," said Sam, "you're a nice specimen of a prize boy, you are!"
"Thank'ee," said the fat boy.
"You ain't got nothin' on your mind as makes you fret yourself, have you?" inquired Sam.
"Not as I knows on," replied the fat boy.
"I should rayther ha' thought, to look at you, that you was a labourin' under an unrequited attachment to some young 'ooman," said Sam.
The fat boy shook his head.
"Vell," said Sam, "I'm glad to hear it. Do you ever drink anythin'?"
"I likes eating, better," replied the boy.
