Now, Mr. Pickwick being in the very best health and spirits, had been making himself perfectly delightful all dinnertime, and was at this moment engaged in an energetic conversation with Emily and Mr. Winkle; bowing his head, courteously, in the emphasis of his discourse, gently waving his left hand to lend force to his observations, and all glowing with placid smiles. He took a piece of cheese from the plate, and was on the point of turning round to renew the conversation, when the fat boy, stooping so as to bring his head on a level with that of Mr. Pickwick, pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, and made the most horrible and hideous face that was ever seen out of a Christmas pantomime.

“Dear me!” said Mr. Pickwick, starting, “what a very⁠—Eh?” He stopped, for the fat boy had drawn himself up, and was, or pretended to be, fast asleep.