'All right, all right!' cried Bob Sawyer, suddenly appearing at
the door, with a small leathern knapsack, limp and dirty, in one
hand, and a rough coat and shawl thrown over the other arm.
'I'm going, old fellow.'
'You!' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
'Yes,' replied Bob Sawyer, 'and a regular expedition we'll make
of it. Here, Sam! Look out!' Thus briefly bespeaking Mr. Weller's
attention, Mr. Bob Sawyer jerked the leathern knapsack into
the dickey, where it was immediately stowed away, under the
seat, by Sam, who regarded the proceeding with great admiration.
This done, Mr. Bob Sawyer, with the assistance of the boy,
forcibly worked himself into the rough coat, which was a few
sizes too small for him, and then advancing to the coach window,
thrust in his head, and laughed boisterously.
'What a start it is, isn't it?' cried Bob, wiping the tears out of
his eyes, with one of the cuffs of the rough coat.
'My dear Sir,' said Mr. Pickwick, with some embarrassment,
'I had no idea of your accompanying us.'
'No, that's just the very thing,' replied Bob, seizing Mr. Pickwick
by the lappel of his coat. 'That's the joke.'
'Oh, that's the joke, is it?' said Mr.
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