Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/610

510 510 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

mately reserved for his individual cravings, there rolled soberly on through the streets of Bristol, a private fly, painted of a sad green colour, drawn by a chubby sort of brown horse, and driven by a surly looking man with his legs dressed like the legs of a groom, and his body attired in the coat of a coachman. Such appearances are common to many vehicles belonging to, and maintained by, old ladies of economical habits ; and in this vehicle there sat an old lady who was its mistress and proprietor.

" Martin ! " said the old lady, calling to the surly man out of the front window.

" Well?" said the surly man, touching his hat to the old lady.

" Mr. Sawyer's," said the old lady.

'' I was going there," said the surly man.

The old lady nodded the satisfaction which this proof of the surly man's foresight imparted to her feelings ; and the surly man giving a smart lash to the chubby horse, they ail repaired to Mr. Bob Sawyer's together.

Robert Sawyer late Nockemorf.
 * ' Martin !" said the old lady, when the fly stopped at the door of Mr.

"Well?" said Martin.

" Ask the lad to step out and mind the horse."

" I'm going to mind the horse myself," said Martin^ laying his whip on the roof of the fly.

" I can't permit it on any account," said the old lady ; " your testimony will be very important, and I must take you into the house with me. You must not stir from my side during the whole interview. Do you hear ? "

'' I hear," replied Martin.

" Well ; what are you stopping for ? "

"Nothing," replied Martin. So saying, the surly man leisurely- descended from the wheel upon which he had been poising himself on the tops of the toes of his right foot, and having summoned the boy in the grey livery, opened the coach-door, flung down the steps, and thrusting in a hand enveloped in a dark wash-leather glove, pulled out the old lady with as much unconcern in his manner as if she were a bandbox.

''Dear me," exclaimed the old lady^ "I am so flurried now I have got here IMartin, that I'm all in a tremble."

Mr. Martin coughed behind the dark wash-leather glove, but expressed no further sympathy ; so the old lady, composing herself, trotted up Mr. Bob Sawyer's steps, and Mr. Martin followed. Imme- diately upon the old lady's entering the shop, Mr. Benjamin Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer, who had been putting the spirits and water out of sight, and upsetting nauseous drugs to take oflT the smell of the tobacco-smoke, issued hastily forth in a transport of pleasure and affection.

" My dear aunt," exclaimed Mr. Ben Allen, " how kind of you to look in upon us. Mr. Sawyer, aunt; my friend Mr. Bob Sawyer that I have spoken to you about, regarding — you know, aunt." And here Mr. Ben Allen, who was not at the moment extraordinarily sober, added