eyed his master's orders--gloating languidly over the remains of the
feast, as he removed the plates, and deposited them in the hamper. The
fresh bottle was produced, and speedily emptied: the hamper was made
fast in its old place--the fat boy once more mounted the box--the
spectacles and pocket-glass were again adjusted--and the evolutions of
the military recommenced. There was a great fizzing and banging of guns,
and starting of ladies--and then a Mine was sprung, to the gratification
of everybody--and when the mine had gone off, the military and the
company followed its example, and went off too.

'Now, mind,' said the old gentleman, as he shook hands with Mr. Pickwick
at the conclusion of a conversation which had been carried on at
intervals, during the conclusion of the proceedings, 'we shall see you
all to-morrow.'

'Most certainly,' replied Mr. Pickwick.

'You have got the address?'

'Manor Farm, Dingley Dell,' said Mr. Pickwick, consulting his
pocket-book. 'That's it,' said the old gentleman. 'I don't let you off,
mind, under a week; and undertake that you shall see everything worth
seeing. If you've come down for a country life, come to me, and
I'll give you plenty of it. Joe--damn that boy, he's gone to sleep
again--Joe, help Tom put in the horses.'

The horses were put in--the driver mounted--the fat boy clambered up by
his side--farewells were exchanged--and the carriage rattled off. As the
Pickwickians turned round to take a last glimpse of it, the setting sun
cast a rich glow on the faces of their entertainers, and fell upon the
form of the fat boy. His head was sunk upon his bosom; and he slumbered
again.

CHAPTER V. A SHORT ONE--SHOWING, AMONG OTHER MATTERS, HOW Mr. PICKWICK
UNDERTOOK TO DRIVE, AND Mr. WINKLE TO RIDE, AND HOW THEY BOTH DID IT

Bright and pleasant was the sky, balmy the air, and beautiful the
appearance of every object around, as Mr. Pickwick leaned over the
balustrades of Rochester Bridge, contemplating nature, and waiting for
breakfast. The scene was indeed one which might well have charmed a far
less reflective mind, than that to which it was presented.

On the left of the spectator lay the ruined wall, broken in many places,
and in some, overhanging the narrow beach below in rude and heavy
masses. Huge knots of seaweed hung upon the jagged and pointed stones,
trembling in every breath of wind; and the green ivy clung mournfully
round the dark and ruined battlements. Beh