Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

           ‘Epicpoem—tenthousandlines—revolutionofJuly—composeditonthespot—Marsbyday,Apollobynight—bangthefield-piece,twangthelyre.’

           ‘Youwerepresentatthatgloriousscene,sir?’saidMr.Snodgrass.

           ‘Present!thinkIwas;1firedamusket—firedwithanidea—rushedintowineshop—wroteitdown—backagain—whiz,bang—anotheridea—wineshopagain—penandink—backagain—cutandslash—nobletime,Sir.Sportsman,sir?‘abruptlyturningtoMr.Winkle.

           1AremarkableinstanceofthepropheticforceofMr.Jingle’simagination;thisdialogueoccurringintheyear1827,andtheRevolutionin1830.

           ‘Alittle,Sir,’repliedthatgentleman.

           ‘Finepursuit,sir—finepursuit.—Dogs,Sir?’

           ‘Notjustnow,’saidMr.Winkle.

           ‘Ah!youshouldkeepdogs—fineanimals—sagaciouscreatures—dogofmyownonce—pointer—surprisinginstinct—outshootingoneday—enteringinclosure—whistled—dogstopped—whistledagain—Ponto—nogo;stockstill—calledhim—Ponto,Ponto—wouldn’tmove—dogtransfixed—staringataboard—lookedup,sawaninscription—"Gamekeeperhasorderstoshootalldogsfoundinthisinclosure"—wouldn’tpassit—wonderfuldog—valuabledogthat—very.’

           ‘Singularcircumstancethat,’saidMr.Pickwick.