clean and comfortable. Wery good little dinner, sir, they can get ready

in half an hour - pair of fowls, sir, and a weal cutlet; French beans,

taturs, tart, and tidiness. You'd better stop vere you are, sir, if I might

recommend. Take adwice, sir, as the doctor said.' The host of the

Saracen's Head opportunely appeared at this moment, to confirm Mr

Weller's statement relative to the accommodations of the

establishment, and to back his entreaties with a variety of dismal

conjectures regarding the state of the roads, the doubt of fresh horses

being to be had at the next stage, the dead certainty of its raining all

night, the equally mortal certainty of its clearing up in the morning,

and other topics of inducement familiar to innkeepers.

Well,' said Mr Pickwick; 'but I must send a letter to London by some

conveyance, so that it may be delivered the very first thing in the

morning, or I must go forwards at all hazards.'

The landlord smiled his delight. Nothing could be easier than for the

gentleman to inclose a letter in a sheet of brown paper, and send it on,

either by the mail or the night coach from Birmingham. If the

gentleman were particularly anxious to have it left as soon as

possible, he might write outside, 'To be delivered immediately,' which

was sure to be attended to; or 'Pay the bearer half-a-crown extra for

instant delivery,' which was surer still.

Very well,' said Mr Pickwick, 'then we will stop here.'

Lights in the Sun, John; make up the fire; the gentlemen are wet!'

cried the landlord. 'This way, gentlemen; don't trouble yourselves

about the postboy now, sir. I'll send him to you when you ring for him,

sir. Now, John, the candles.'

The candles were brought, the fire was stirred up, and a fresh log of

wood thrown on. In ten minutes' time, a waiter was laying the cloth

for dinner, the curtains were drawn, the fire was blazing brightly, and

everything looked (as everything always does, in all decent English

inns) as if the travellers had been expected, and their comforts

prepared, for days beforehand.

Mr Pickwick sat down at a side table, and hastily indited a note to Mr

Winkle, merely informing him that he was detained by stress of

weather, but would certainly be in London next day; until when he

deferred any account of his proceedings. This note was hastily made

into a parcel, and despatched to the bar per Mr Samuel Weller.

Sam left it with the landlady, and was returning to pull his master's

boots off, after drying himself by the kitchen fire, when glancing

casually through a half-opened door, he was arrested by the sight of a

gentleman with a sandy head who had a large bundle of newspapers

The Pickwick Papers