There is a large bar with a marble vase, out of which the pumper gets the water; and there are a number of yellow-looking tumblers, out of which the company get it; and it is a most edifying and satisfactory sight to behold the perseverance and gravity with which they swallow it.

There are baths near at hand, in which a part of the company wash themselves; and a band plays afterwards, to congratulate the remainder on their having done so.

There is another pump room, into which infirm ladies and gentlemen are wheeled, in such an astonishing variety of chairs and chaises, that any adventurous individual who goes in with the regular number of toes, is in imminent danger of coming out without them; and there is a third, into which the quiet people go, for it is less noisy than either.

There is an immensity of promenading, on crutches and off, with sticks and without, and a great deal of conversation, and liveliness, and pleasantry.
Every morning, the regular water-drinkers, Mr.Pickwick among the number, met each other in the pump room, took their quarter of a pint, and walked constitutionally.

At the afternoon's promenade, Lord Mutanhed, and the Honourable Mr.Crushton, the Dowager Lady Snuphanuph, Mrs.Colonel Wugsby, and all the great people, and all the morning water-drinkers, met in grand assemblage.