I should enjoy it of all things.' Mr.
Winkle had rushed upon his fate; there was no resource.

'Let them be at the door by eleven,' said Mr.Pickwick.
'Very well, sir,' replied the waiter.
The waiter retired; the breakfast concluded; and the travellers ascended to their respective bedrooms, to prepare a change of clothing, to take with them on their approaching expedition.
Mr.Pickwick had made his preliminary arrangements, and was looking over the coffee-room blinds at the passengers in the street, when the waiter entered, and announced that the chaise was ready--an announcement which the vehicle itself confirmed, by forthwith appearing before the coffee-room blinds aforesaid.
It was a curious little green box on four wheels, with a low place like a wine-bin for two behind, and an elevated perch for one in front, drawn by an immense brown horse, displaying great symmetry of bone.

An hostler stood near, holding by the bridle another immense horse--apparently a near relative of the animal in the chaise--ready saddled for Mr.Winkle.
'Bless my soul!' said Mr.Pickwick, as they stood upon the pavement while the coats were being put in.

'Bless my soul! who's to drive?
I never thought of that.' 'Oh! you, of course,' said Mr.Tupman.
'Of course,' said Mr.Snodgrass.
'I!' exclaimed Mr.Pickwick.
'Not the slightest fear, Sir,' interposed the hostler.

'Warrant him quiet, Sir; a hinfant in arms might drive him.' 'He don't shy, does he ?' inquired Mr.Pickwick.
'Shy, sir ?-he wouldn't shy if he was to meet a vagin-load of monkeys with their tails burned off.' The last recommendation was indisputable.