n declared, must have drowned him (the
postboy), but for his great presence of mind in tearing it promptly from
his head, and drying the gasping man's countenance with a wisp of straw.

'This is pleasant,' said Bob Sawyer, turning up his coat collar, and
pulling the shawl over his mouth to concentrate the fumes of a glass of
brandy just swallowed.

'Wery,' replied Sam composedly.

'You don't seem to mind it,' observed Bob.

'Vy, I don't exactly see no good my mindin' on it 'ud do, sir,' replied
Sam.

'That's an unanswerable reason, anyhow,' said Bob.

'Yes, sir,' rejoined Mr. Weller. 'Wotever is, is right, as the young
nobleman sweetly remarked wen they put him down in the pension list 'cos
his mother's uncle's vife's grandfather vunce lit the king's pipe vith a
portable tinder-box.' 'Not a bad notion that, Sam,' said Mr. Bob Sawyer
approvingly.

'Just wot the young nobleman said ev'ry quarter-day arterwards for the
rest of his life,' replied Mr. Weller.

'Wos you ever called in,' inquired Sam, glancing at the driver, after a
short silence, and lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper--'wos
you ever called in, when you wos 'prentice to a sawbones, to wisit a
postboy.'

'I don't remember that I ever was,' replied Bob Sawyer.

'You never see a postboy in that 'ere hospital as you WALKED (as they
says o' the ghosts), did you?' demanded Sam.

'No,' replied Bob Sawyer. 'I don't think I ever did.'

'Never know'd a churchyard were there wos a postboy's tombstone, or see
a dead postboy, did you?' inquired Sam, pursuing his catechism.

'No,' rejoined Bob, 'I never did.'

'No!' rejoined Sam triumphantly. 'Nor never vill; and there's another
thing that no man never see, and that's a dead donkey. No man never see
a dead donkey 'cept the gen'l'm'n in the black silk smalls as know'd
the young 'ooman as kep' a goat; and that wos a French donkey, so wery
likely he warn't wun o' the reg'lar breed.'

'Well, what has that got to do with the postboys?' asked Bob Sawyer.

'This here,' replied Sam. 'Without goin' so far as to as-sert, as some
wery sensible people do, that postboys and donkeys is both immortal,
wot I say is this: that wenever they feels theirselves gettin' stiff and
past their work, they just rides off together, wun postboy to a pair in
the usual way; wot becomes on 'em nobody knows, but it's wery probable
as they starts avay to take their pleasure in some other vorld, for
there ain't a man alive as ever