Pickwick and his friends followed to secure their
places.
Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass had seated themselves at the
back part of the coach; Mr. Winkle had got inside; and Mr.
Pickwick was preparing to follow him, when Sam Weller came
up to his master, and whispering in his ear, begged to speak to
him, with an air of the deepest mystery.
'Well, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'what's the matter now?'
'Here's rayther a rum go, sir,' replied Sam.
'What?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.
'This here, Sir,' rejoined Sam. 'I'm wery much afeerd, sir, that
the properiator o' this here coach is a playin' some imperence
vith us.'
'How is that, Sam?' said Mr. Pickwick; 'aren't the names down
on the way-bill?'
'The names is not only down on the vay-bill, Sir,' replied Sam,
'but they've painted vun on 'em up, on the door o' the coach.'
As Sam spoke, he pointed to that part of the coach door on
which the proprietor's name usually appears; and there, sure
enough, in gilt letters of a goodly size, was the magic name of
PICKWICK!
'Dear me,' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, quite staggered by the
coincidence; 'what a very extraordinary thing!'
'Yes, but that ain't all,' said Sam, again directing his master's
attention to the coach door; 'not content vith writin' up "Pick-
wick," they puts "Moses" afore it, vich I call addin' insult to
injury, as the parrot said ven they not only took him from his
native land, but made him talk the English langwidge arterwards.
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