Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/191

137 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 137

Smart, of the great house of Bilson and Slum, Cateaton Street, City, However, as there was no bagman to look on, nobody knew anything at all al)out the matter; and so Tom Smart and his clay-coloured gig with the red wheels, and the vixenish mare with the fast pace, went on together, keeping the secret among them, and nobody was a bit the wiser.

" There are many pleasanter places even in this dreary world, than Marlborough Downs when it blows hard ; and if you throw in beside, a gloomy winter's evening, a miry and sloppy road, and a pelting fall of heavy rain, and try the effect, by way of experiment, in your own proper person, you will experience the full force of this observation.

" The wind blew — not up the road or down it, though that's bad enough, but sheer across it, sending the rain slanting down like the lines they used to rule in the copybooks at school, to make the boys slope well. For a moment it would die away, and the traveller would begin to delude himself into the belief that, exhausted with its previous fury, it had quietly lain itself down to rest, when, whoo ! he would hear it growling and whistling in the distance, and on it would come rushing over the hill-tops, and sweeping along the plain, gathering sound and strength as it drew nearer, until it dashed with a heavy gust against horse and man, driving the sharp rain into their ears, and its cold damp breath into their very bones ; and past them it would scour, far, far away, with a stunning roar, as if in ridicule of their weakness, and triumphant in the consciousness of its own strength and power.

drooping ears, now and then tossing her head as if to express her dis- gust at this very ungentlemanly behaviour of the elements, but keeping a good pace notwithstanding, until a gust of wind, more furious than any that had yet assailed them, caused her to stop suddenly, and plant her four feet firmly against the ground, to prevent her being blown over. It's a special mercy that she did this, for if she had been blown over, the vixenish mare was so light, and the gig was so light, and Tom Smart such a light weight into the bargain, that they must infal- libly have all gone rolling over and over together, until they reached .the confines of earth, or until the wind fell ; and in either case the probability is, that neither the vixenish mare, nor the clay-coloured gig with the red wheels, nor Tom Smart, would ever have been fit for service again.
 * ' The bay mare splashed away, through the mud and water, with

" < Well, damn my straps and whiskers,' says Tom Smart, (Tom sometimes had an unpleasant knack of swearing), ' Damn my straps and whiskers,' says Tom, ' if this ain't pleasant, blow me.'

" You'll very likely ask me, why, as Tom Smart had been pretty well blown already, he expressed this wish to be submitted to the same process again. I can't say — all I know is, that Tom Smart said so — or at least he always told my uncle he said so, and it's just the same thing.

" ' Blow me,' says Tom Smart ; and the mare neighed as if she were precisely of the same opinion.

" * Cheer up old girl,' said Tom, patting the bay mare on the neck with the end of his whip, ' It won't do pushing on, such a night as