an object
which had very much the appearance of a sedan-chair. Willing to divert
his thoughts from the failure of his enterprise, he stepped aside to see
the crowd pass; and finding that they were cheering away, very much to
their own satisfaction, forthwith began (by way of raising his spirits)
to cheer too, with all his might and main.

Mr. Grummer passed, and Mr. Dubbley passed, and the sedan passed, and
the bodyguard of specials passed, and Sam was still responding to the
enthusiastic cheers of the mob, and waving his hat about as if he were
in the very last extreme of the wildest joy (though, of course, he
had not the faintest idea of the matter in hand), when he was suddenly
stopped by the unexpected appearance of Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass.

'What's the row, gen'l'm'n?'cried Sam. 'Who have they got in this here
watch-box in mournin'?'

Both gentlemen replied together, but their words were lost in the
tumult.

'Who is it?' cried Sam again.

once more was a joint reply returned; and, though the words were
inaudible, Sam saw by the motion of the two pairs of lips that they had
uttered the magic word 'Pickwick.'

This was enough. In another minute Mr. Weller had made his way through
the crowd, stopped the chairmen, and confronted the portly Grummer.

'Hollo, old gen'l'm'n!' said Sam. 'Who have you got in this here
conweyance?'

'Stand back,' said Mr. Grummer, whose dignity, like the dignity of
a great many other men, had been wondrously augmented by a little
popularity.

'Knock him down, if he don't,' said Mr. Dubbley.

'I'm wery much obliged to you, old gen'l'm'n,' replied Sam, 'for
consulting my conwenience, and I'm still more obliged to the other
gen'l'm'n, who looks as if he'd just escaped from a giant's carrywan,
for his wery 'andsome suggestion; but I should prefer your givin' me a
answer to my question, if it's all the same to you.--How are you,
Sir?' This last observation was addressed with a patronising air to Mr.
Pickwick, who was peeping through the front window.

Mr. Grummer, perfectly speechless with indignation, dragged the
truncheon with the brass crown from its particular pocket, and
flourished it before Sam's eyes.

'Ah,' said Sam, 'it's wery pretty, 'specially the crown, which is
uncommon like the real one.'

'Stand back!' said the outraged Mr. Grummer. By way of adding force to
the command, he thrust the brass emblem of royalty into Sam's neckcloth
with one hand, and seized Sam