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‘
Hollo
!
’
was
the
red
-
headed
man
’
s
reply
.
‘
How
far
is
it
to
Dingley
Dell
?
’
‘
Better
er
seven
mile
.
’
‘
Is
it
a
good
road
?
’
‘
No
,
‘
tain
’
t
.
’
Having
uttered
this
brief
reply
,
and
apparently
satisfied
himself
with
another
scrutiny
,
the
red
-
headed
man
resumed
his
work
.
‘
We
want
to
put
this
horse
up
here
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
;
‘
I
suppose
we
can
,
can
’
t
we
?
’
‘
Want
to
put
that
ere
horse
up
,
do
ee
?
’
repeated
the
red
-
headed
man
,
leaning
on
his
spade
.
‘
Of
course
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
who
had
by
this
time
advanced
,
horse
in
hand
,
to
the
garden
rails
.
‘
Missus
’
—
roared
the
man
with
the
red
head
,
emerging
from
the
garden
,
and
looking
very
hard
at
the
horse
—
‘
missus
!
’
A
tall
,
bony
woman
—
straight
all
the
way
down
—
in
a
coarse
,
blue
pelisse
,
with
the
waist
an
inch
or
two
below
her
arm
-
pits
,
responded
to
the
call
.
‘
Can
we
put
this
horse
up
here
,
my
good
woman
?
’
said
Mr
.
Tupman
,
advancing
,
and
speaking
in
his
most
seductive
tones
.
The
woman
looked
very
hard
at
the
whole
party
;
and
the
red
–
headed
man
whispered
something
in
her
ear
.
‘
No
,
’
replied
the
woman
,
after
a
little
consideration
,
‘
I
’
m
afeerd
on
it
.
’
