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POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF THE PICKWICK CLUB
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THE PICKWICK CLUB. 811

•* Not au uncommon thing" upon ice. Sir," replied Mr. Weller. " Hold up, Sir."

This last observation of Mr. Weller's bore reference to a demonstra- tion Mr. Winkle made at the instant, of a frantic desire to throw his feet in the air, and dash the back of his head on the ice.

" These — these — are very awkward skaits ; ain't they, Sam ? " en- quired Mr. Winkle, staggering.

" I'm afeerd there's an orkard gen'lm'n in 'em, Sir," replied Sam.

" Now, Winkle," cried Mr. Pickwick, quite unconscious that there was anything the matter. *' Come ; the ladies are all anxiety."

"Yes, yes," replied Mr. Winkle, with a ghastly smile. "I'm coming."

" Just a goin' to begin," said Sam, endeavouring to disengage himself. " Now, Sir, start off."

" Stop an instant, Sam," gasped Mr. Winkle, clinging most affec- tionately to Mr. Weller. "I find I've got a couple of coats at home, that I don't want, Sam. You may have them, Sam."

" Thank'ee, Sir," replied Mr. Weller.

" Never mind touching your hat, Sam," said Mr. Winkle, hastily. " You needn't take your hand away, to do that. I meant to have given you five shillings this morning for a Christmas-box, Sam. I'll give it you this afternoon, Sam."

  • ' You're wery good, Sir," replied Mr. Weller.

" Just hold me at first, Sam; will you?" said Mr. Winkle. " There — that's right. I shall soon get in the way of it, Sam. Not too fast, Sam ; not too fast."

Mr. Winkle, stooping forward with his body half doubled up, was being assisted over the ice by Mr. Weller, in a very singular and un-swan-like manner, when Mr. Pickwick most innocently shouted from the opposite bank —

" Sam !"

« Sir?" said Mr. Weller.

" Here. I want you."

•* Let go. Sir," said Sam. " Don't you hear the governor a callin' ? Let go. Sir."

With a violent effort, Mr. Weller disengaged himself from the grasp of the agonized Pickwickian ; and, in so doing, administered a consider- able impetus to the unhappy Mr. Winkle. With an accuracy which no degree of dexterity or practice could have ensured, that unfortunate gentleman bore swiftly down into the centre of the reel, at the very moment when Mr. Bob Sawyer was performing a flourish of unparalleled beauty. Mr. Winkle struck wildly against him, and with a loud crash they both fell heavily down. Mr. Pickwick ran to the spot. Boh Saw- yer had risen to his feet, but Mr. Winkle was far too wise to do any- thing of the kind in skaits. He was seated on the ice, making spasmo- dic efforts to smile ; but anguish was depicted on every lineament of his countenance.

  • ' Are you hurt ?" enquired Mr. Benjamin Allen, with great

anxiety.

" Not much," said Mr. Wrinkle, rubbing his back very hard.