'Well,' said Sam, 'of all the cool boys ever I set my eyes on, this
here young gen'l'm'n is the coolest. Come, wake up, young dropsy!'
But as young dropsy evinced no symptoms of returning animation,
Sam Weller sat himself down in front of the cart, and
starting the old horse with a jerk of the rein, jogged steadily on,
towards the Manor Farm.
Meanwhile, Mr. Pickwick and his friends having walked their
blood into active circulation, proceeded cheerfully on. The paths
were hard; the grass was crisp and frosty; the air had a fine, dry,
bracing coldness; and the rapid approach of the gray twilight
(slate-coloured is a better term in frosty weather) made them
look forward with pleasant anticipation to the comforts which
awaited them at their hospitable entertainer's. It was the sort of
afternoon that might induce a couple of elderly gentlemen, in a
lonely field, to take off their greatcoats and play at leap-frog in
pure lightness of heart and gaiety; and we firmly believe that had
Mr. Tupman at that moment proffered 'a back,' Mr. Pickwick
would have accepted his offer with the utmost avidity.
However, Mr. Tupman did not volunteer any such accommodation,
and the friends walked on, conversing merrily.
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