'Now, mind,' said the old gentleman, as he shook hands with
Mr. Pickwick at the conclusion of a conversation which had been
carried on at intervals, during the conclusion of the proceedings,
"we shall see you all to-morrow.'
'Most certainly,' replied Mr. Pickwick.
'You have got the address?'
'Manor Farm, Dingley Dell,' said Mr. Pickwick, consulting his
pocket-book.
'That's it,' said the old gentleman. 'I don't let you off, mind,
under a week; and undertake that you shall see everything worth
seeing. If you've come down for a country life, come to me, and
I'll give you plenty of it. Joe--damn that boy, he's gone to sleep
again--Joe, help Tom put in the horses.'
The horses were put in--the driver mounted--the fat
boy clambered up by his side--farewells were exchanged--
and the carriage rattled off. As the Pickwickians turned round
to take a last glimpse of it, the setting sun cast a rich glow on
the faces of their entertainers, and fell upon the form of the
fat boy. His head was sunk upon his bosom; and he slumbered again.
CHAPTER V
A SHORT ONE--SHOWING, AMONG OTHER MATTERS, HOW
Mr. PICKWICK UNDERTOOK TO DRIVE, AND Mr.
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