You did,' said Wardle. 'I saw you do it - I observed you pick him out -

I noticed you, as you raised your piece to take aim; and I will say this,

that the best shot in existence could not have done it more

beautifully. You are an older hand at this than I thought you,

Tupman; you have been out before.' It was in vain for Mr Tupman to

protest, with a smile of self- denial, that he never had. The very smile

was taken as evidence to the contrary; and from that time forth his

reputation was established. It is not the only reputation that has been

acquired as easily, nor are such fortunate circumstances confined to

partridge-shooting.

Meanwhile, Mr Winkle flashed, and blazed, and smoked away, without

producing any material results worthy of being noted down;

sometimes expending his charge in mid-air, and at others sending it

skimming along so near the surface of the ground as to place the lives

of the two dogs on a rather uncertain and precarious tenure. As a

display of fancy-shooting, it was extremely varied and curious; as an

exhibition of firing with any precise object, it was, upon the whole,

perhaps a failure. It is an established axiom, that 'every bullet has its

billet.' If it apply in an equal degree to shot, those of Mr Winkle were

unfortunate foundlings, deprived of their natural rights, cast loose

upon the world, and billeted nowhere. 'Well,' said Wardle, walking up

to the side of the barrow, and wiping the streams of perspiration from

his jolly red face; 'smoking day, isn't it?'

It is, indeed,' replied Mr Pickwick. The sun is tremendously hot, even

to me. I don't know how you must feel it.'

Why,' said the old gentleman, 'pretty hot. It's past twelve, though. You

see that green hill there?'

Certainly.'

That's the place where we are to lunch; and, by Jove, there's the boy

with the basket, punctual as clockwork!'

'So he is,' said Mr Pickwick, brightening up. 'Good boy, that. I'll give

him a shilling, presently. Now, then, Sam, wheel away.'

Hold on, sir,' said Mr Weller, invigorated with the prospect of

refreshments. 'Out of the vay, young leathers. If you walley my

precious life don't upset me, as the gen'l'm'n said to the driver when

they was a-carryin' him to Tyburn.' And quickening his pace to a

sharp run, Mr Weller wheeled his master nimbly to the green hill, shot

him dexterously out by the very side of the basket, and proceeded to

unpack it with the utmost despatch.

The Pickwick Papers