Part 37 (2/2)

”Let go, sir,” said Sam. ”Don't you hear the governor calling? Let go, sir.”

With a violent effort Mr. Weller disengaged himself from the grasp of the agonized Pickwickian, and in so doing administered a considerable impetus to the unhappy Mr. Winkle. With an accuracy which no degree of dexterity or practice could have insured, that unfortunate gentleman bore swiftly down into the centre of the reel at the very moment when Mr. Bob Sawyer was performing a flourish of unparalleled beauty.

Mr. Winkle struck Wildly against him, and with a loud crash they both fell heavily down. Mr. Pickwick ran to the spot. Bob Sawyer had risen to his feet, but Mr. Winkle was far too wise to do anything of the kind in skates.

He was seated on the ice, making spasmodic efforts to smile; but anguish was depicted on every lineament of his countenance.

”Are you hurt?” inquired Mr. Benjamin Allen, with great anxiety.

”Not much,” said Mr. Winkle, rubbing his back very hard.

”I wish you'd let me bleed you,” said Mr. Benjamin, with great eagerness.

”No, thank you,” replied Mr. Winkle, hurriedly.

”I really think you had better,” said Allen.

”Thank you,” replied Mr. Winkle; ”I'd rather not.”

”What do you think, Mr. Pickwick?” inquired Bob Sawyer.

Mr. Pickwick was excited and indignant. He beckoned to Mr. Weller and said, in a stern voice, ”Take his skates off!”

”No; but really I had scarcely begun,” remonstrated Mr. Winkle.

”Take his skates off!” repeated Mr. Pickwick, firmly.

The command was not to be resisted. Mr. Winkle allowed Sam to obey it, in silence.

”Lift him up,” said Mr. Pickwick. Sam a.s.sisted him to rise.

Mr. Pickwick retired a few paces apart from the bystanders; and, beckoning his friend to approach, fixed a searching look upon him and uttered in a low, but distinct and emphatic tone, these remarkable words:

”You're a humbug, sir!”

”A what?” said Mr. Winkle, starting.

”A humbug, sir! I will speak plainer, if you wish it. An impostor, sir!”

With these words Mr. Pickwick turned slowly on his heel and rejoined his friends.

MY MOTHER'S BIBLE.

BY GEORGE P. MORRIS.

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