I should think so,' replied the jolly host. - 'My dears, here's my friend

Mr Jingle - Mr Pickwick's friend, Mr Jingle, come 'pon - little visit.'

'Is anything the matter with Mr Snodgrass, Sir?' inquired Emily, with

great anxiety.

Nothing the matter, ma'am,' replied the stranger. 'Cricket dinner -

glorious party - capital songs - old port - claret - good - very good -

wine, ma'am - wine.'

It wasn't the wine,' murmured Mr Snodgrass, in a broken voice. 'It

was the salmon.' (Somehow or other, it never is the wine, in these

cases.)

'Hadn't they better go to bed, ma'am?' inquired Emma. 'Two of the

boys will carry the gentlemen upstairs.'

'I won't go to bed,' said Mr Winkle firmly.

'No living boy shall carry me,' said Mr Pickwick stoutly; and he went

on smiling as before. 'Hurrah!' gasped Mr Winkle faintly.

'Hurrah!' echoed Mr Pickwick, taking off his hat and dashing it on the

floor, and insanely casting his spectacles into the middle of the

kitchen. At this humorous feat he laughed outright.

Let's - have - 'nother - bottle,'cried Mr Winkle, commencing in a very

loud key, and ending in a very faint one. His head dropped upon his

breast; and, muttering his invincible determination not to go to his

bed, and a sanguinary regret that he had not 'done for old Tupman' in

the morning, he fell fast asleep; in which condition he was borne to

his apartment by two young giants under the personal

superintendence of the fat boy, to whose protecting care Mr Snodgrass

shortly afterwards confided his own person, Mr Pickwick accepted the

proffered arm of Mr Tupman and quietly disappeared, smiling more

than ever; and Mr Wardle, after taking as affectionate a leave of the

whole family as if he were ordered for immediate execution, consigned

to Mr Trundle the honour of conveying him upstairs, and retired, with

a very futile attempt to look impressively solemn and dignified. 'What

a shocking scene!' said the spinster aunt.

Dis-gusting!' ejaculated both the young ladies.

Dreadful - dreadful!' said Jingle, looking very grave: he was about a

bottle and a half ahead of any of his companions. 'Horrid spectacle -

very!'

'What a nice man!' whispered the spinster aunt to Mr Tupman.

The Pickwick Papers