'We are not,' roared Mr Pickwick, in a tone which, to any dispassionate listener, carried conviction with it.

'Ain't you, though - ain't you?' said the young man to Mr Pickwick, making his way through the crowd by the infallible process of elbowing the countenances of its component members.

'That learned man in a few hurried words explained the real state of the case.'

'Come along, then,' said he of the green coat, lugging Mr Pickwick after him by main force, and talking the whole way.
 
'Here, No. 924, take your fare, and take yourself off - respectable gentleman - know him well - none of your nonsense - this way, sir - where's your friends?'

'All a mistake, I see - never mind - accidents will happen - best regulated families* (* This is a nonsense collection of colloquial sayings) - never say die - down upon your luck - Pull him UP - Put that in his pipe - like the flavour - damned rascals.'
And with a lengthened string of similar broken and generally meaningless sentences, delivered with extraordinary volubility, the stranger led the way to the traveller's waiting-room, whither he was closely followed by Mr Pickwick and his disciples.

'Here, waiter!' shouted the stranger, ringing the bell with tremendous violence, 'glasses all round - brandy-and-water, hot and strong, and sweet, and plenty, - eye damaged, Sir? Waiter! raw beef-steak for the gentleman's eye - nothing like raw beef-steak for a bruise, sir; cold lamp-post very good, but lamp-post inconvenient - damned odd standing in the open street half an hour, with your eye against a lamp-post - eh,- very good - ha! ha!'