Oh, yes,' replied Mr Tupman, with conscious pride. 'I let it off.'

Well done. You'll hit something next time, if you look sharp. Very

easy, ain't it?'

'Yes, it's very easy,' said Mr Tupman. 'How it hurts one's shoulder,

though. It nearly knocked me backwards. I had no idea these small

firearms kicked so.'

Ah,' said the old gentleman, smiling, 'you'll get used to it in time. Now

then - all ready - all right with the barrow there?'

All right, Sir,' replied Mr Weller.

Come along, then.'

Hold hard, Sir,' said Sam, raising the barrow.

Aye, aye,' replied Mr Pickwick; and on they went, as briskly as need

be.

Keep that barrow back now,' cried Wardle, when it had been hoisted

over a stile into another field, and Mr Pickwick had been deposited in

it once more.

All right, sir,' replied Mr Weller, pausing.

Now, Winkle,' said the old gentleman, 'follow me softly, and don't be

too late this time.'

'Never fear,' said Mr Winkle. 'Are they pointing?'

No, no; not now. Quietly now, quietly.' On they crept, and very quietly

they would have advanced, if Mr Winkle, in the performance of some

very intricate evolutions with his gun, had not accidentally fired, at

the most critical moment, over the boy's head, exactly in the very spot

where the tall man's brain would have been, had he been there

instead.

Why, what on earth did you do that for?' said old Wardle, as the birds

flew unharmed away.

I never saw such a gun in my life,' replied poor Mr Winkle, looking at

the lock, as if that would do any good. 'It goes off of its own accord. It

WILL do it.'

Will do it!' echoed Wardle, with something of irritation in his manner.

I wish it would kill something of its own accord.'

The Pickwick Papers