'After all,' said Mr Pickwick, as he drained the last drop, 'his pranks

are really very amusing; very entertaining indeed.'

'You may say that,' rejoined Mr Ben Allen. In proof of Bob Sawyer's

being one of the funniest fellows alive, he proceeded to entertain Mr

Pickwick with a long and circumstantial account how that gentleman

once drank himself into a fever and got his head shaved; the relation

of which pleasant and agreeable history was only stopped by the

stoppage of the chaise at the Bell at Berkeley Heath, to change horses.

I say! We're going to dine here, aren't we?' said Bob, looking in at the

window.

Dine!' said Mr Pickwick. 'Why, we have only come nineteen miles, and

have eighty-seven and a half to go.'

Just the reason why we should take something to enable us to bear

up against the fatigue,' remonstrated Mr Bob Sawyer.

Oh, it's quite impossible to dine at half-past eleven o'clock in the day,'

replied Mr Pickwick, looking at his watch.

So it is,' rejoined Bob, 'lunch is the very thing. Hollo, you sir! Lunch

for three, directly; and keep the horses back for a quarter of an hour.

Tell them to put everything they have cold, on the table, and some

bottled ale, and let us taste your very best Madeira.' Issuing these

orders with monstrous importance and bustle, Mr Bob Sawyer at once

hurried into the house to superintend the arrangements; in less than

five minutes he returned and declared them to be excellent.

The quality of the lunch fully justified the eulogium which Bob had

pronounced, and very great justice was done to it, not only by that

gentleman, but Mr Ben Allen and Mr Pickwick also. Under the

auspices of the three, the bottled ale and the Madeira were promptly

disposed of; and when (the horses being once more put to) they

resumed their seats, with the case-bottle full of the best substitute for

milk-punch that could be procured on so short a notice, the key-bugle

sounded, and the red flag waved, without the slightest opposition on

Mr Pickwick's part.

At the Hop Pole at Tewkesbury, they stopped to dine; upon which

occasion there was more bottled ale, with some more Madeira, and

some port besides; and here the case-bottle was replenished for the

fourth time. Under the influence of these combined stimulants, Mr

Pickwick and Mr Ben Allen fell fast asleep for thirty miles, while Bob

and Mr Weller sang duets in the dickey.

The Pickwick Papers