blazed, and smoked away, without pro- "Not they, sir," replied Mr. Weller, ducing any material results worthy of touching his hat. "I lodged in the same being noted down; sometimes expending house with a pieman once, sir, and a his charge in mid-air, and at others sending it skimming along so near the surface of the ground as to place the lives of the two dogs on a rather uncertain and precarious tenure. As a display of fancy shooting, it was extremely varied and curious; as an exhibition of firing with any precise object, it was, upon the whole, perhaps a failure. It is an established axiom that " every bullet has its billet." If it apply in an equal degree to shot, those of Mr. Winkle were unfortunate foundlings, deprived of their natural rights, cast loose upon the world, and billeted nowhere. "That's the place where we are to lunch; and, by Jove, there's the boy with the basket, punctual as clockwork." "So he is," said Mr. Pickwick, brightening up. "Good boy that. I'll give him a shilling presently. Now, then, Sam, wheel away. "Hold on, sir," said Mr. Weller, invigorated with the prospect of refreshments. "Out of the vay, young leathers. If you walley my precious life don't upset me, as the gen'l'm'n said to the driver when they was a carryin' him to Tyburn." And quickening his pace to a sharp run, Mr. Weller wheeled his master nimbly to the green hill, shot him dexterously out by the very side of the basket, and proceeded to unpack it with the utmost despatch. "Weal pie," said Mr. Weller, soliloquizing, as he arranged the eatables on the grass. "Wery good thing is weal pie, when you know the lady as made it, and is quite sure it an't kittens; and arter all, though, where's the odds, when they're so like weal that the wery piemen themselves don't know the difference?" "Don't they, Sam?" said Mr. Pickwick. wery nice man he was-reg'lar clever 66 He must have been a very ingenious young man that, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, with a slight shudder. 66 Just was, sir," replied Mr. Weller, continuing his occupation of emptying the basket," and the pies was beautiful. Tongue; well, that's a wery good thing when it an't a woman's. Bread-knuckle o' ham, reg'lar picter-cold beef in slices, wery good. What's in them stone jars, young touch-and-go?" "Beer in this one," replied the boy, taking from his shoulder a couple of large stone bottles, fastened together by a leathern strap-"cold punch in t'other." 66 And a wery good notion of a lunch it is, take it altogether," said Mr. Weller, surveying his arrangement of the repast with great satisfaction. "Now, gen'l'm'n, fall on,' as the English said to the French when they fixed bagginets." It needed no second invitation to induce the party to yield full justice to the meal; and as little pressing did it require to induce Mr. Weller, the long gamekeeper, and the two boys, to station themselves on the grass, at a little distance, and do good execution upon a decent proportion of the viands. An old oak af- the punch, because orange peel alwavs forded a pleasant shelter to the group, and a rich prospect of arable and meadow land, intersected with luxuriant hedges, and richly ornamented with wood, lay spread out below them. "This is delightful-thoroughly delightful!" said Mr. Pickwick, the skin of whose expressive countenance was rapidly peeling off with exposure to the sun. 66 So it is: so it is, old fellow," replied Wardle. "Come; a glass of punch." "With great pleasure," said Mr. Pickwick, the satisfaction of whose countenance, after drinking it, bore testimony to the sincerity of the reply. 66 Good," said Mr. Pickwick, smacking his lips. "Very good. I'll take another. Cool; very cool. Come, gentlemen," continued Mr. Pickwick, still retaining his hold upon the jar, a toast. Our friends at Dingley Dell." The toast was drunk with loud acclamations. "I'll tell you what I shall do to get up my shooting again," said Mr. Winkle, who was eating bread and ham with a pocket knife. "I'll put a stuffed partridge on the top of a post, and practice at it, beginning at a short distance, and lengthening it by degrees. I understand it's capital practice.' 66 "I know a gen'l'man, sir," said Mr. Weller, as did that, and begun at two yards; but he never tried it on agin; for he blowed the bird right clean away at the first fire, and nobody ever seed a feather on him arterwards." Sam," said Mr. Pickwick. "Sir," replied Mr. Weller. disagreed with him, and finding that there was not, Mr. Pickwick took another glass to the health of their absent friend, and then felt himself imperatively called on to propose another in honor of the punch compounder, unknown. This constant succession of glasses produced considerable effect upon Mr. Pickwick, his countenance beamed with the most sunny smiles, laughter played around his lips, and good-humored merriment twinkled in his eye. Yielding by degrees to the influence of the exciting liquid, rendered more so by the heat, Mr. Pickwick expressed a strong desire to recollect a song which he had heard in his infancy, and the attempt proving abortive, sought to stimulate his memory with more glasses of punch, which appeared to have quite a contrary effect; for, from forgetting the words of the song, he began to forget how to articulate any words at all: and finally, after rising to his legs to address the company in an eloquent speech, he fell into the barrow and fast asleep, simultaneously. The basket having been repacked, and it being found perfectly impossible to awaken Mr. Pickwick from his torpor, some discussion took place whether it would be better for Mr. Weller to wheel his master back again, or to leave him where he was, until they should all be ready to return. The latter course was at length decided on; and as the further expedition was not to exceed an hour's duration, and as Mr. Weller begged very hard to be one of the party, it was determined to leave Mr. Pickwick asleep in "Have the goodness to reserve your the barrow and call for him on their reanecdotes till they are called for." 66 Cert'nly, sir." Here Mr. Weller winked the eye which was not concealed by the beer-can he was raising to his lips with such exquisiteness, that the two boys went into spontaneous convulsions, and even the long man condescended to smile. "Well, that certainly is most capital cold punch," said Mr. Pickwick, looking earnestly at the stone bottle; and the day is extremely warm, and-Tupman, my dear friend, a glass of punch?” "With the greatest delight," replied Mr. Tupman; and having drank that glass, Mr. Pickwick took another, just to gee whether there was any orange peel in turn. So away they went, leaving Mr. Pickwick snoring most comfortably, in the shade. That Mr. Pickwick would have continued to snore in the shade until his friends came back, or, in default thereof, until the shades of evening had fallen on the landscape, there appears no reasonable cause to doubt; always supposing that he had been suffered to remain there in peace. But he was not suffered to remain there in peace. And this was what prevented him. Captain Boldwig was a little fierce man in a stiff black neckerchief and blue surtout, who, when he did condescend to walk about his property, did it in com |