himself inside.
    »Done!« said Mr. Pickwick. »What should be done?«
    »Ain't nobody to be whopped for takin' this here liberty, sir?« said Mr.
Weller, who had expected that at least he would have been commissioned to
challenge the guard and coachman to a pugilistic encounter on the spot.
    »Certainly not,« replied Mr. Pickwick eagerly; »not on any account. Jump up
to your seat directly.«
    »I'm wery much afeerd,« muttered Sam to himself, as he turned away, »that
somethin' queer's come over the governor, or he'd never ha' stood this so quiet.
I hope that 'ere trial hasn't broke his spirit, but it looks bad, wery bad.« Mr.
Weller shook his head gravely; and it is worthy of remark, as an illustration of
the manner in which he took this circumstance to heart, that he did not speak
another word until the coach reached the Kensington turnpike. Which was so long
a time for him to remain taciturn, that the fact may be considered wholly
unprecedented.
    Nothing worthy of special mention occurred during the journey. Mr. Dowler
related a variety of anecdotes, all illustrative of his own personal prowess and
desperation, and appealed to Mrs. Dowler in corroboration thereof: when Mrs.
Dowler invariably brought in, in the form of an appendix, some remarkable fact
or circumstance which Mr. Dowler had forgotten, or had perhaps through modesty
omitted: for the addenda in every instance went to show that Mr. Dowler was even
a more wonderful fellow than he made himself out to be. Mr. Pickwick and Mr.
Winkle listened with great admiration, and at intervals conversed with Mrs.
Dowler, who was a very agreeable and fascinating person. So, what between Mr.
Dowler's stories, and Mrs. Dowler's charms, and, Mr. Pickwick's good humour, and
Mr. Winkle's good listening, the insides contrived to be very companionable all
the way.
    The outsides did as outsides always do. They were very cheerful and
talkative at the beginning of every stage, and very dismal and sleepy in the
middle, and very bright and wakeful again towards the end. There was one young
gentleman in an India-rubber cloak, who smoked cigars all day; and there was
another young gentleman in a parody upon a great coat, who lighted a good many,
and feeling obviously unsettled after the second whiff, threw them away when he
thought nobody was looking at him