Stop, Sam, stop!' said Mr Winkle, trembling violently, and clutching

hold of Sam's arms with the grasp of a drowning man. 'How slippery it

is, Sam!'

Not an uncommon thing upon ice, Sir,' replied Mr Weller. 'Hold up,

Sir!'

This last observation of Mr Weller's bore reference to a demonstration

Mr Winkle made at the instant, of a frantic desire to throw his feet in

the air, and dash the back of his head on the ice.

'These - these - are very awkward skates; ain't they, Sam?' inquired

Mr Winkle, staggering.

I'm afeerd there's a orkard gen'l'm'n in 'em, Sir,' replied Sam.

Now, Winkle,' cried Mr Pickwick, quite unconscious that there was

anything the matter. 'Come; the ladies are all anxiety.'

'Yes, yes,' replied Mr Winkle, with a ghastly smile. 'I'm coming.'

Just a-goin' to begin,' said Sam, endeavouring to disengage himself.

Now, Sir, start off!'

'Stop an instant, Sam,' gasped Mr Winkle, clinging most affectionately

to Mr Weller. 'I find I've got a couple of coats at home that I don't

want, Sam. You may have them, Sam.'

Thank'ee, Sir,' replied Mr Weller.

Never mind touching your hat, Sam,' said Mr Winkle hastily. 'You

needn't take your hand away to do that. I meant to have given you five

shillings this morning for a Christmas box, Sam. I'll give it you this

afternoon, Sam.'

'You're wery good, sir,' replied Mr Weller.

Just hold me at first, Sam; will you?' said Mr Winkle. 'There - that's

right. I shall soon get in the way of it, Sam. Not too fast, Sam; not too

fast.'

Mr Winkle, stooping forward, with his body half doubled up, was

being assisted over the ice by Mr Weller, in a very singular and un-

swan-like manner, when Mr Pickwick most innocently shouted from

the opposite bank -

Sam!'

The Pickwick Papers