professional practice - it was at this very moment, that a face, head,

and shoulders, emerged from beneath the water, and disclosed the

features and spectacles of Mr Pickwick.

'Keep yourself up for an instant - for only one instant!' bawled Mr

Snodgrass.

Yes, do; let me implore you - for my sake!' roared Mr Winkle, deeply

affected. The adjuration was rather unnecessary; the probability

being, that if Mr Pickwick had declined to keep himself up for anybody

else's sake, it would have occurred to him that he might as well do so,

for his own.

'Do you feel the bottom there, old fellow?' said Wardle.

Yes, certainly,' replied Mr Pickwick, wringing the water from his head

and face, and gasping for breath. 'I fell upon my back. I couldn't get

on my feet at first.'

The clay upon so much of Mr Pickwick's coat as was yet visible, bore

testimony to the accuracy of this statement; and as the fears of the

spectators were still further relieved by the fat boy's suddenly

recollecting that the water was nowhere more than five feet deep,

prodigies of valour were performed to get him out. After a vast

quantity of splashing, and cracking, and struggling, Mr Pickwick was

at length fairly extricated from his unpleasant position, and once more

stood on dry land.

'Oh, he'll catch his death of cold,' said Emily.

Dear old thing!' said Arabella. 'Let me wrap this shawl round you, Mr

Pickwick.'

Ah, that's the best thing you can do,' said Wardle; 'and when you've

got it on, run home as fast as your legs can carry you, and jump into

bed directly.' A dozen shawls were offered on the instant. Three or four

of the thickest having been selected, Mr Pickwick was wrapped up,

and started off, under the guidance of Mr Weller; presenting the

singular phenomenon of an elderly gentleman, dripping wet, and

without a hat, with his arms bound down to his sides, skimming over

the ground, without any clearly-defined purpose, at the rate of six

good English miles an hour.

But Mr Pickwick cared not for appearances in such an extreme case,

and urged on by Sam Weller, he kept at the very top of his speed until

he reached the door of Manor Farm, where Mr Tupman had arrived

some five minutes before, and had frightened the old lady into

palpitations of the heart by impressing her with the unalterable

The Pickwick Papers