My idea, my dear Sir, entirely.

Hail, rain, or sunshine, you can't walk half a dozen yards up the street, without encountering half a dozen green parasols.' Here the little man indulged in a convulsion of mirth, which was only checked by the entrance of a third party.
This was a tall, thin man, with a sandy-coloured head inclined to baldness, and a face in which solemn importance was blended with a look of unfathomable profundity.

He was dressed in a long brown surtout, with a black cloth waistcoat, and drab trousers.

A double eyeglass dangled at his waistcoat; and on his head he wore a very low-crowned hat with a broad brim.

The new-comer was introduced to Mr.Pickwick as Mr.Pott, the editor of the Eatanswill GAZETTE.