ing with which the party came to regard the
animal they were compelled to lead about all day. Then we have the post
horses and all connected with them. There is Tom Smart's "vixenish
mare," quite an intelligent character in her way. The account of the
coach drive down to Muggleton shows admirable observation of the ways of
the drivers.

Ben Allen's aunt had her private fly, painted a sad green colour drawn by
a "chubby sort of brown horse." I pass over the ghostly mailcoach horses
that flew through the night in "The Story of the Bagman's Uncle," flowing-
maned, black horses. There are many post horses figuring in Mr.
Pickwick's journey from Bristol to Birmingham and thence home; horses in
the rain and out of it.

Namby's horse was "a bay, a well-looking animal enough, but with
something of a flash and dog-fighting air about him." The horses which
took the hackney coach to the Fleet jolted along as hackney coaches
usually do. "The horses 'went better,' the driver said, 'when they had
anything before them.' They must have gone at a most extraordinary pace
when there was nothing." Visiting the Fleet with Mrs. Weller and the
deputy Shepherd, Mr. Weller drove up from Dorking with the old piebald in
his chaise cart, which, after long delay, was brought out for the return
journey. "If he stands at livery much longer he'll stand at nothin' as
we go back." There is a capital scene at the opening of Chapter XLVI.,
when the "cabrioilet" was drawing up at Mrs. Bardell's, and where so much
that is dramatic is "got out" of such a simple incident between the
contending directions.

IV.--Mr. Pickwick in Silk Stockings.

How well Boz knew how to touch the chords of human character--a power
that certainly needs long experience to work--is shown by the scene at
Wardle's dance, where Mr. Pickwick is nettled by Tupman's remarking that
he was wearing "pumps" for the first time. "_You_ in silk stockings,"
said that gentleman. Mr. Pickwick had just called attention to the
change which he considered a sort of public event to be admired by all.
"See this great man condescending to our frivolous tastes," and his host
had noted it in a flattering way. "You mean to dance?" But Tupman did
not look at it in this respectful way--he made a joke of it! "_You_ in
silk stockings." This was insolent to the grave, great man and
philosopher, so he turned sharply on his familiar: "And why not, sir--why
not?" This with warmth. The