A short one—showing, among other matters, how Mr. Pickwick undertook to drive, and Mr. Winkle to ride, and how they both did it.
Bright and pleasant was the sky, balmy the air, and beautiful the appearance of every object around, as Mr. Pickwick leaned over the balustrades of Rochester Bridge, contemplating nature, and waiting for breakfast. The scene was indeed one which might well have charmed a far less reflective mind, than that to which it was presented.