Snodgrass, who knew rather less about skates
than a Hindoo. At length, however, with the assistance of Mr.
Weller, the unfortunate skates were firmly screwed and buckled
on, and Mr. Winkle was raised to his feet.
'Now, then, Sir,' said Sam, in an encouraging tone; 'off vith
you, and show 'em how to do it.'
'Stop, Sam, stop!' said Mr. Winkle, trembling violently, and
clutching hold of Sam's arms with the grasp of a drowning man.
'How slippery it is, Sam!'
'Not an uncommon thing upon ice, Sir,' replied Mr. Weller.
'Hold up, Sir!'
This last observation of Mr. Weller's bore reference to a
demonstration 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 skates; ain't they, Sam?'
inquired Mr. Winkle, staggering.
'I'm afeerd there's a orkard gen'l'm'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.
Pages:
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744