'Two or three weeks,' replied the cabbie. 'Weeks!' said Mr Pickwick in astonishment, and he wrote that in the note-book as well.

'He lives at Pentonville (a part of London) when he's at home,' the driver said calmly, 'but we don't often take him home, because of his weakness.'

'Because of his weakness?' asked Mr Pickwick.

'He always falls down when he's taken off the front of the cab,' the driver told Pickwick, 'but when he's there, we tie him in very tightly, so he can't fall down; and we've got a pair of very large wheels at the back of the cab, so when he does move, the wheels run after him, and he has to go on - he can't help it.'

Mr Pickwick took down every word of what the cabbie said in his notebook. He wanted to be able to tell the club of this fascinating example of how a horse managed to stay alive in a very difficult situation. He had just finished writing when they reached the Golden Cross. Down jumped the driver from his seat, and out got Mr Pickwick. Mr Tupman, Mr Snodgrass, and Mr Winkle, had been anxiously waiting the arrival of their great leader. Now they crowded him around to welcome him.