“Now, shiny Villiam,” said the hostler to the deputy hostler, “give the gen’lm’n the ribbons.”

“Shiny Villiam”⁠—so called, probably, from his sleek hair and oily countenance⁠—placed the reins in Mr. Pickwick’s left hand; and the upper hostler thrust a whip into his right.

“Wo-o!” cried Mr. Pickwick, as the tall quadruped evinced a decided inclination to back into the coffee-room window.

“Wo-o!” echoed Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass, from the bin.