Book One - Chapter 34 Which Describes Sundry Happennings at the Fair, and Ends This First Book

"I say, young cove, where are you a-pushing of?"

The speaker was a very tall individual whose sharp-pointed elbow
had, more than once, obtruded itself into my ribs. He was
extremely thin and bony, with a long, drooping nose set very much
to one side, and was possessed of a remarkable pair of eyes--that
is to say, one eyelid hung continually lower than the other, thus
lending to his otherwise sinister face an air of droll and
unexpected waggery that was quite startling to behold.

All about us were jostling throngs of men and women in snowy
smock frocks, and holiday gowns, who pushed, or were pushed,
laughed, or frowned, according to their several natures; while
above the merry hubbub rose the blare of trumpets, the braying of
horns, and the crash, and rattle of drums--in a word, I was in
the middle of an English Country Fair.

"Now then, young cove," repeated the man I have alluded to,
"where are you a-pushing of? Don't do it again, or mind your
eye!" And, saying this, he glared balefully at me with one eye
and leered jocosely with the other, and into my ribs came his
elbow again.

"You seem to be able to do something in that way yourself," I
retorted.

"Oh--do I?"

"Yes," said I; "suppose you take your elbow out of my waistcoat."