the shouting of the populace when the carriage drew up, behind Mr

Pott's chariot, which chariot itself drew up at Mr Pott's door, which

door itself opened, and displayed the great Pott accoutred as a

Russian officer of justice, with a tremendous knout in his hand -

tastefully typical of the stern and mighty power of the Eatanswill

GAZETTE, and the fearful lashings it bestowed on public offenders.

'Bravo!' shouted Mr Tupman and Mr Snodgrass from the passage,

when they beheld the walking allegory.

'Bravo!' Mr Pickwick was heard to exclaim, from the passage.

Hoo-roar Pott!' shouted the populace. Amid these salutations, Mr

Pott, smiling with that kind of bland dignity which sufficiently testified

that he felt his power, and knew how to exert it, got into the chariot.

Then there emerged from the house, Mrs. Pott, who would have looked

very like Apollo if she hadn't had a gown on, conducted by Mr Winkle,

who, in his light-red coat could not possibly have been mistaken for

anything but a sportsman, if he had not borne an equal resemblance

to a general postman. Last of all came Mr Pickwick, whom the boys

applauded as loud as anybody, probably under the impression that

his tights and gaiters were some remnants of the dark ages; and then

the two vehicles proceeded towards Mrs. Leo Hunter's; Mr Weller (who

was to assist in waiting) being stationed on the box of that in which

his master was seated.

Every one of the men, women, boys, girls, and babies, who were

assembled to see the visitors in their fancy-dresses, screamed with

delight and ecstasy, when Mr Pickwick, with the brigand on one arm,

and the troubadour on the other, walked solemnly up the entrance.

Never were such shouts heard as those which greeted Mr Tupman's

efforts to fix the sugar-loaf hat on his head, by way of entering the

garden in style.

The preparations were on the most delightful scale; fully realising the

prophetic Pott's anticipations about the gorgeousness of Eastern

fairyland, and at once affording a sufficient contradiction to the

malignant statements of the reptile INDEPENDENT. The grounds were

more than an acre and a quarter in extent, and they were filled with

people! Never was such a blaze of beauty, and fashion, and literature.

There was the young lady who 'did' the poetry in the Eatanswill

GAZETTE, in the garb of a sultana, leaning upon the arm of the young

gentleman who 'did' the review department, and who was

appropriately habited in a field-marshal's uniform - the boots

excepted. There were hosts of these geniuses, and any reasonable

person would have thought it honour enough to meet them. But more

than these, there were half a dozen lions from London - authors, real

The Pickwick Papers