The next
thing to be done was to unharness the horse. This complicated
process having been effected, the party walked slowly forward,
leading the horse among them, and abandoning the chaise to its fate.
An hour's walk brought the travellers to a little road-side
public-house, with two elm-trees, a horse trough, and a signpost,
in front; one or two deformed hay-ricks behind, a kitchen garden
at the side, and rotten sheds and mouldering outhouses jumbled
in strange confusion all about it. A red-headed man was working
in the garden; and to him Mr. Pickwick called lustily, 'Hollo there!'
The red-headed man raised his body, shaded his eyes with his hand,
and stared, long and coolly, at Mr. Pickwick and his companions.
'Hollo there!' repeated Mr. Pickwick.
'Hollo!' was the red-headed man's reply.
'How far is it to Dingley Dell?'
'Better er seven mile.'
'Is it a good road?'
'No, 'tain't.' Having uttered this brief reply, and apparently
satisfied himself with another scrutiny, the red-headed man
resumed his work.
'We want to put this horse up here,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'I
suppose we can, can't we?'
'Want to put that ere horse up, do ee?' repeated the red-
headed man, leaning on his spade.
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