'Well, that certainly is most capital cold punch,' said Mr Pickwick,

looking earnestly at the stone bottle; 'and the day is extremely warm,

and - Tupman, my dear friend, a glass of punch?'

With the greatest delight,' replied Mr Tupman; and having drank that

glass, Mr Pickwick took another, just to see whether there was any

orange peel in the punch, because orange peel always disagreed with

him; and finding that there was not, Mr Pickwick took another glass to

the health of their absent friend, and then felt himself imperatively

called upon to propose another in honour of the punch-compounder,

unknown.

This constant succession of glasses produced considerable effect upon

Mr Pickwick; his countenance beamed with the most sunny smiles,

laughter played around his lips, and good-humoured merriment

twinkled in his eye. Yielding by degrees to the influence of the exciting

liquid, rendered more so by the heat, Mr Pickwick expressed a strong

desire to recollect a song which he had heard in his infancy, and the

attempt proving abortive, sought to stimulate his memory with more

glasses of punch, which appeared to have quite a contrary effect; for,

from forgetting the words of the song, he began to forget how to

articulate any words at all; and finally, after rising to his legs to

address the company in an eloquent speech, he fell into the barrow,

and fast asleep, simultaneously.

The basket having been repacked, and it being found perfectly

impossible to awaken Mr Pickwick from his torpor, some discussion

took place whether it would be better for Mr Weller to wheel his

master back again, or to leave him where he was, until they should all

be ready to return. The latter course was at length decided on; and as

the further expedition was not to exceed an hour's duration, and as

Mr Weller begged very hard to be one of the party, it was determined

to leave Mr Pickwick asleep in the barrow, and to call for him on their

return. So away they went, leaving Mr Pickwick snoring most

comfortably in the shade.

That Mr Pickwick would have continued to snore in the shade until

his friends came back, or, in default thereof, until the shades of

evening had fallen on the landscape, there appears no reasonable

cause to doubt; always supposing that he had been suffered to remain

there in peace. But he was NOT suffered to remain there in peace. And

this was what prevented him.

Captain Boldwig was a little fierce man in a stiff black neckerchief and

blue surtout, who, when he did condescend to walk about his

property, did it in company with a thick rattan stick with a brass

ferrule, and a gardener and sub-gardener with meek faces, to whom

(the gardeners, not the stick) Captain Boldwig gave his orders with all

The Pickwick Papers