act with Mr.
Weller's head.

'Hollo!' said Sam, picking up his hat, which had been knocked off, and
rubbing his temple. 'Hollo, sir! if you comes it this vay, you'll fill
one o' them bags, and something to spare, at one fire.'

Here the leather-legginged boy laughed very heartily, and then tried
to look as if it was somebody else, whereat Mr. Winkle frowned
majestically.

'Where did you tell the boy to meet us with the snack, Martin?' inquired
Wardle.

'Side of One-tree Hill, at twelve o'clock, Sir.'

'That's not Sir Geoffrey's land, is it?'

'No, Sir; but it's close by it. It's Captain Boldwig's land; but
there'll be nobody to interrupt us, and there's a fine bit of turf
there.'

'Very well,' said old Wardle. 'Now the sooner we're off the better. Will
you join us at twelve, then, Pickwick?'

Mr. Pickwick was particularly desirous to view the sport, the more
especially as he was rather anxious in respect of Mr. Winkle's life and
limbs. On so inviting a morning, too, it was very tantalising to turn
back, and leave his friends to enjoy themselves. It was, therefore, with
a very rueful air that he replied--

'Why, I suppose I must.'

'Ain't the gentleman a shot, Sir?' inquired the long gamekeeper.

'No,' replied Wardle; 'and he's lame besides.'

'I should very much like to go,' said Mr. Pickwick--'very much.'

There was a short pause of commiseration.

'There's a barrow t'other side the hedge,' said the boy. 'If the
gentleman's servant would wheel along the paths, he could keep nigh us,
and we could lift it over the stiles, and that.'

'The wery thing,' said Mr. Weller, who was a party interested, inasmuch
as he ardently longed to see the sport. 'The wery thing. Well said,
Smallcheek; I'll have it out in a minute.'

But here a difficulty arose. The long gamekeeper resolutely protested
against the introduction into a shooting party, of a gentleman in a
barrow, as a gross violation of all established rules and precedents.
It was a great objection, but not an insurmountable one. The gamekeeper
having been coaxed and feed, and having, moreover, eased his mind by
'punching' the head of the inventive youth who had first suggested the
use of the machine, Mr. Pickwick was placed in it, and off the party
set; Wardle and the long gamekeeper leading the way, and Mr. Pickwick in
the barrow, propelled by Sam, bringing up the rear.

'Stop, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, when they had got half across the first
field.