Pickwick in the barrow, propelled by
Sam, bringing up the rear.
'Stop, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, when they had got half across
the first field.
'What's the matter now?' said Wardle.
'I won't suffer this barrow to be moved another step,' said
Mr. Pickwick, resolutely, 'unless Winkle carries that gun of his in
a different manner.'
'How AM I to carry it?' said the wretched Winkle.
'Carry it with the muzzle to the ground,' replied Mr. Pickwick.
'It's so unsportsmanlike,' reasoned Winkle.
'I don't care whether it's unsportsmanlike or not,' replied
Mr. Pickwick; 'I am not going to be shot in a wheel-barrow, for
the sake of appearances, to please anybody.'
'I know the gentleman'll put that 'ere charge into somebody
afore he's done,' growled the long man.
'Well, well--I don't mind,' said poor Winkle, turning his gun-
stock uppermost--'there.'
'Anythin' for a quiet life,' said Mr. Weller; and on they went again.
'Stop!' said Mr. Pickwick, after they had gone a few yards farther.
'What now?' said Wardle.
'That gun of Tupman's is not safe: I know it isn't,' said Mr. Pickwick.
'Eh? What! not safe?' said Mr. Tupman, in a tone of great alarm.
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