Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/638

534 534 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

display as part and parcel of some political, or other procession of triumph.

" Mr. Sawyer," cried Mr. Pickwick, in a state of great excitement. '' Mr. Sawyer, Sir ! "

" Hallo ! " responded that gentleman, looking over the side of the chaise with all the coolness in life.

" Are you mad, Sir ? " demanded Mr. Pickwick.

" Not a bit of it," replied Bob, " only cheerful."

"Cheerful, Sir!" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. "Take down that scandalous red handkerchief. I beg — I insist. Sir. Sam, take it down."

Before Sam could interpose, Mr. Bob Sawyer gracefully struck his colours, and having put them in his pocket, nodded in a courteous manner to Mr. Pickwick, wiped the mouth of the case -bottle, and applied it to his own ; thereby informing him, without any unnecessary waste of words, that he devoted that draught to wishing him all manner of happiness and prosperity. Having done this, Bob replaced the cork with great care, and looking benignantly down on Mr. Pickwick, took a large bite out of the sandwich, and smiled.

proof against Bob's immoveable self possession, *' prav let us have no more of this absurdity. Sir."
 * "Come," said Mr. Pickwick, whose momentary anger was not quite

ler ; " I didn't mean to do it, only I got so enlivened with the ride that I couldn't help it."
 * ' No, no," replied Bob, once more exchanging hats with Mr. Wel-

''Think of the look of the thing," expostulated Mr. Pickwick; "have some regard to appearances."

"Oh, certainly,'' said Bob, "it's not the sort of thing at all. All over, governor."

Satisfied with this assurance, Mr. Pickwick once more drew his head into the chaise and pulled up the glass ; but he had scarcely resumed the conversation which Mr. Bob Sawyer had interrupted, when he was somewhat startled by the apparition of a small dark body, of an oblong form, on the outside of the window, which gave sundry taps against it, as if impatient of admission.

" What's this ! " exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

"It looks like a case-bottle;" remarked Ben Allen, eyeing the ob- ject in question through his spectacles with some interest ; " I rather think it belongs to Bob.''

The impression was perfectly accurate, for Mr. Bob Sawyer having attached the case-bottle to the end of the walking-stick, was battering the window with it, in token of his wish that his friends inside would partake of its contents, in all good fellowship and harmony.

" What's to be done ? " said Mr. Pickwick, looking at the bottle.
 * This proceeding is more absurd than the other."

"I think it would be best to take it in," replied Mr. Ben Allen; " it would serve him right to take it in and keep it, wouldn't it } "

"It would," said Mr. Pickwick: "shall I}"

" I think it the most proper course we could possibly adopt," replied Ben.