Pickwick's
sense of propriety, but it was not the whole extent of the aggravation,
for a stage-coach full, inside and out, was meeting them at
the moment, and the astonishment of the passengers was very
palpably evinced. The congratulations of an Irish family, too,
who were keeping up with the chaise, and begging all the time,
were of rather a boisterous description, especially those of its
male head, who appeared to consider the display as part and
parcel of some political or other procession of triumph.
'Mr. Sawyer!' cried Mr. Pickwick, in a state of great excitement,
'Mr. Sawyer, Sir!'
'Hollo!' responded that gentleman, looking over the side of the
chaise with all the coolness in life.
'Are you mad, sir?' demanded Mr. Pickwick.
'Not a bit of it,' replied Bob; 'only cheerful.'
'Cheerful, sir!' ejaculated Mr. Pickwick. 'Take down that
scandalous red handkerchief, I beg. I insist, Sir. Sam, take it down.'
Before Sam could interpose, Mr. Bob Sawyer gracefully struck
his colours, and having put them in his pocket, nodded in a
courteous manner to Mr. Pickwick, wiped the mouth of the case-
bottle, and applied it to his own, thereby informing him, without
any unnecessary waste of words, that he devoted that draught
to wishing him all manner of happiness and prosperity.
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