Chapter 19 - Page 2

Martin?'

The tall gamekeeper replied in the affirmative, and looked with
some surprise from Mr. Winkle, who was holding his gun as if he
wished his coat pocket to save him the trouble of pulling the
trigger, to Mr. Tupman, who was holding his as if he was afraid
of it--as there is no earthly reason to doubt he really was.

'My friends are not much in the way of this sort of thing yet,
Martin,' said Wardle, noticing the look. 'Live and learn, you
know. They'll be good shots one of these days. I beg my friend
Winkle's pardon, though; he has had some practice.'

Mr. Winkle smiled feebly over his blue neckerchief in
acknowledgment of the compliment, and got himself so mysteriously
entangled with his gun, in his modest confusion, that if the piece
had been loaded, he must inevitably have shot himself dead upon
the spot.

'You mustn't handle your piece in that 'ere way, when you
come to have the charge in it, Sir,' said the tall gamekeeper
gruffly; 'or I'm damned if you won't make cold meat of some

on us.'

Mr. Winkle, thus admonished, abruptly altered his position,
and in so doing, contrived to bring the barrel into pretty smart
contact with Mr. Weller's head.

'Hollo!' said Sam, picking up his hat, which had been knocked
off, and rubbing his temple. 'Hollo, sir! if you comes it this vay,
you'll fill one o' them bags, and something to spare, at one fire.'

Here the leather-legginged boy laughed very heartily, and then
tried to look as if it was somebody else, whereat Mr. Winkle
frowned majestically.

'Where did you tell the boy to meet us with the snack, Martin?'
inquired Wardle.

'Side of One-tree Hill, at twelve o'clock, Sir.'

'That's not Sir Geoffrey's land, is it?'

'No, Sir; but it's close by it. It's Captain Boldwig's land; but
there'll be nobody to interrupt us, and there's a fine bit of
turf there.'

'Very well,' said old Wardle. 'Now the sooner we're off the
better. Will you join us at twelve, then, Pickwick?'

Mr. Pickwick was particularly desirous to view the sport, the
more especially as he was rather anxious in respect of Mr.
Winkle's life and limbs. On so inviting a morning, too, it was
very tantalising to turn back, and leave his friends to enjoy
themselves. It was, therefore, with a very rueful air that he
replied--

'Why, I suppose I must.'

'Ain't the gentleman a shot, Sir?' inquired the long gamekeeper.

'No,' replied Wardle; 'and he's lame besides.'

'I should very much like to go,' said Mr. Pickwick--'very
much.'

There was a short pause of commiseration.

'There's a barrow t'other side the hedge,' said the boy. 'If the
gentleman's servant would wheel