“All right,” replied Mr. Winkle faintly.

“Let ’em go,” cried the hostler.⁠—“Hold him in, sir”; and away went the chaise, and the saddle-horse, with Mr. Pickwick on the box of the one, and Mr. Winkle on the back of the other, to the delight and gratification of the whole innyard.

“What makes him go sideways?” said Mr. Snodgrass in the bin, to Mr. Winkle in the saddle.

“I can’t imagine,” replied Mr. Winkle. His horse was drifting up the street in the most mysterious manner⁠—side first, with his head towards one side of the way, and his tail towards the other.