the tall horse, with
his hat over his ears, and shaking all over, as if he would shake to
pieces, with the violence of the exercise, 'pick up the whip, there's a
good fellow.' Mr. Winkle pulled at the bridle of the tall horse till he
was black in the face; and having at length succeeded in stopping him,
dismounted, handed the whip to Mr. Pickwick, and grasping the reins,
prepared to remount.

Now whether the tall horse, in the natural playfulness of his
disposition, was desirous of having a little innocent recreation with
Mr. Winkle, or whether it occurred to him that he could perform the
journey as much to his own satisfaction without a rider as with one, are
points upon which, of course, we can arrive at no definite and distinct
conclusion. By whatever motives the animal was actuated, certain it is
that Mr. Winkle had no sooner touched the reins, than he slipped them
over his head, and darted backwards to their full length.

'Poor fellow,' said Mr. Winkle soothingly--'poor fellow--good old
horse.' The 'poor fellow' was proof against flattery; the more
Mr. Winkle tried to get nearer him, the more he sidled away; and,
notwithstanding all kinds of coaxing and wheedling, there were Mr.
Winkle and the horse going round and round each other for ten minutes,
at the end of which time each was at precisely the same distance from
the other as when they first commenced--an unsatisfactory sort of thing
under any circumstances, but particularly so in a lonely road, where no
assistance can be procured.

'What am I to do?' shouted Mr. Winkle, after the dodging had been
prolonged for a considerable time. 'What am I to do? I can't get on
him.'

'You had better lead him till we come to a turnpike,' replied Mr.
Pickwick from the chaise.

'But he won't come!' roared Mr. Winkle. 'Do come and hold him.'

Mr. Pickwick was the very personation of kindness and humanity: he
threw the reins on the horse's back, and having descended from his seat,
carefully drew the chaise into the hedge, lest anything should come
along the road, and stepped back to the assistance of his distressed
companion, leaving Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass in the vehicle.

The horse no sooner beheld Mr. Pickwick advancing towards him with the
chaise whip in his hand, than he exchanged the rotary motion in which he
had previously indulged, for a retrograde movement of so very determined
a character, that it at once drew Mr. Winkle, who was still at the
end of the b