with the hum of
labour; trees bend beneath the thick clusters of rich fruit which bow
their branches to the ground; and the corn, piled in graceful sheaves,
or waving in every light breath that sweeps above it, as if it wooed
the sickle, tinges the landscape with a golden hue. A mellow softness
appears to hang over the whole earth; the influence of the season
seems to extend itself to the very wagon, whose slow motion across the
well-reaped field is perceptible only to the eye, but strikes with no
harsh sound upon the ear.

As the coach rolls swiftly past the fields and orchards which skirt
the road, groups of women and children, piling the fruit in sieves, or
gathering the scattered ears of corn, pause for an instant from their
labour, and shading the sun-burned face with a still browner hand, gaze
upon the passengers with curious eyes, while some stout urchin, too
small to work, but too mischievous to be left at home, scrambles over
the side of the basket in which he has been deposited for security, and
kicks and screams with delight. The reaper stops in his work, and stands
with folded arms, looking at the vehicle as it whirls past; and the
rough cart-horses bestow a sleepy glance upon the smart coach team,
which says as plainly as a horse's glance can, 'It's all very fine to
look at, but slow going, over a heavy field, is better than warm work
like that, upon a dusty road, after all.' You cast a look behind you, as
you turn a corner of the road. The women and children have resumed their
labour; the reaper once more stoops to his work; the cart-horses have
moved on; and all are again in motion. The influence of a scene like
this, was not lost upon the well-regulated mind of Mr. Pickwick. Intent
upon the resolution he had formed, of exposing the real character of
the nefarious Jingle, in any quarter in which he might be pursuing his
fraudulent designs, he sat at first taciturn and contemplative, brooding
over the means by which his purpose could be best attained. By degrees
his attention grew more and more attracted by the objects around him;
and at last he derived as much enjoyment from the ride, as if it had
been undertaken for the pleasantest reason in the world.

'Delightful prospect, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Beats the chimbley-pots, Sir,' replied Mr. Weller, touching his hat.

'I suppose you have hardly seen anything but chimney-pots and bricks and
mortar all your life, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, smiling.