e fresh clear air blowing in
their faces, and gladdening their very hearts within them.

Such was the progress of Mr. Pickwick and his friends by the Muggleton
Telegraph, on their way to Dingley Dell; and at three o'clock that
afternoon they all stood high and dry, safe and sound, hale and hearty,
upon the steps of the Blue Lion, having taken on the road quite enough
of ale and brandy, to enable them to bid defiance to the frost that
was binding up the earth in its iron fetters, and weaving its beautiful
network upon the trees and hedges. Mr. Pickwick was busily engaged in
counting the barrels of oysters and superintending the disinterment of
the cod-fish, when he felt himself gently pulled by the skirts of the
coat. Looking round, he discovered that the individual who resorted
to this mode of catching his attention was no other than Mr. Wardle's
favourite page, better known to the readers of this unvarnished history,
by the distinguishing appellation of the fat boy.

'Aha!' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Aha!' said the fat boy.

As he said it, he glanced from the cod-fish to the oyster-barrels, and
chuckled joyously. He was fatter than ever.

'Well, you look rosy enough, my young friend,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'I've been asleep, right in front of the taproom fire,' replied the fat
boy, who had heated himself to the colour of a new chimney-pot, in the
course of an hour's nap. 'Master sent me over with the shay-cart, to
carry your luggage up to the house. He'd ha' sent some saddle-horses,
but he thought you'd rather walk, being a cold day.'

'Yes, yes,' said Mr. Pickwick hastily, for he remembered how they had
travelled over nearly the same ground on a previous occasion. 'Yes, we
would rather walk. Here, Sam!'

'Sir,' said Mr. Weller.

'Help Mr. Wardle's servant to put the packages into the cart, and then
ride on with him. We will walk forward at once.'

Having given this direction, and settled with the coachman, Mr. Pickwick
and his three friends struck into the footpath across the fields, and
walked briskly away, leaving Mr. Weller and the fat boy confronted
together for the first time. Sam looked at the fat boy with great
astonishment, but without saying a word; and began to stow the luggage
rapidly away in the cart, while the fat boy stood quietly by, and seemed
to think it a very interesting sort of thing to see Mr. Weller working
by himself.

'There,' said Sam, throwing in the last carpet-bag, 'there they are!'