Table of Contents

+ Add to Library

Previous Next

Chapter 47 Is chiefly devoted to Matters of Business, and the tempora_dvantage of Dodson and Fogg—Mr. Winkle reappears under extraordinar_ircumstances—Mr. Pickwick’s Benevolence proves stronger than his Obstinacy

  • Job Trotter, abating nothing of his speed, ran up Holborn, sometimes in th_iddle of the road, sometimes on the pavement, sometimes in the gutter, as th_hances of getting along varied with the press of men, women, children, an_oaches, in each division of the thoroughfare, and, regardless of al_bstacles stopped not for an instant until he reached the gate of Gray’s Inn.
  • Notwithstanding all the expedition he had used, however, the gate had bee_losed a good half–hour when he reached it, and by the time he had discovere_r. Perker’s laundress, who lived with a married daughter, who had bestowe_er hand upon a non–resident waiter, who occupied the one–pair of some numbe_n some street closely adjoining to some brewery somewhere behind Gray’s In_ane, it was within fifteen minutes of closing the prison for the night. Mr.
  • Lowten had still to be ferreted out from the back parlour of the Magpie an_tump; and Job had scarcely accomplished this object, and communicated Sa_eller’s message, when the clock struck ten.
  • ‘There,’ said Lowten, ‘it’s too late now. You can’t get in to–night; you’v_ot the key of the street, my friend.’
  • ‘Never mind me,’ replied Job. ‘I can sleep anywhere. But won’t it be better t_ee Mr. Perker to–night, so that we may be there, the first thing in th_orning?’
  • ‘Why,’ responded Lowten, after a little consideration, ‘if it was in anybod_lse’s case, Perker wouldn’t be best pleased at my going up to his house; bu_s it’s Mr. Pickwick’s, I think I may venture to take a cab and charge it t_he office.’ Deciding on this line of conduct, Mr. Lowten took up his hat, an_egging the assembled company to appoint a deputy–chairman during hi_emporary absence, led the way to the nearest coach–stand. Summoning the ca_f most promising appearance, he directed the driver to repair to Montagu_lace, Russell Square.
  • Mr. Perker had had a dinner–party that day, as was testified by the appearanc_f lights in the drawing–room windows, the sound of an improved grand piano, and an improvable cabinet voice issuing therefrom, and a rather overpowerin_mell of meat which pervaded the steps and entry. In fact, a couple of ver_ood country agencies happening to come up to town, at the same time, a_greeable little party had been got together to meet them, comprising Mr.
  • Snicks, the Life Office Secretary, Mr. Prosee, the eminent counsel, thre_olicitors, one commissioner of bankrupts, a special pleader from the Temple, a small–eyed peremptory young gentleman, his pupil, who had written a livel_ook about the law of demises, with a vast quantity of marginal notes an_eferences; and several other eminent and distinguished personages. From thi_ociety, little Mr. Perker detached himself, on his clerk being announced in _hisper; and repairing to the dining–room, there found Mr. Lowten and Jo_rotter looking very dim and shadowy by the light of a kitchen candle, whic_he gentleman who condescended to appear in plush shorts and cottons for _uarterly stipend, had, with a becoming contempt for the clerk and all thing_ppertaining to ‘the office,’ placed upon the table.
  • ‘Now, Lowten,’ said little Mr. Perker, shutting the door,‘what’s the matter?
  • No important letter come in a parcel, is there?’
  • ‘No, Sir,’ replied Lowten. ‘This is a messenger from Mr. Pickwick, Sir.’
  • ‘From Pickwick, eh?’ said the little man, turning quickly to Job. ‘Well, wha_s it?’
  • ‘Dodson and Fogg have taken Mrs. Bardell in execution for her costs, Sir,’ said Job.
  • ‘No!’ exclaimed Perker, putting his hands in his pockets, and reclinin_gainst the sideboard.
  • ‘Yes,’ said Job. ‘It seems they got a cognovit out of her, for the amount of ’em, directly after the trial.’
  • ‘By Jove!’ said Perker, taking both hands out of his pockets, and striking th_nuckles of his right against the palm of his left, emphatically, ‘those ar_he cleverest scamps I ever had anything to do with!’
  • ‘The sharpest practitioners I ever knew, Sir,’ observed Lowten.
  • ‘Sharp!’ echoed Perker. ‘There’s no knowing where to have them.’
  • ‘Very true, Sir, there is not,’ replied Lowten; and then, both master and ma_ondered for a few seconds, with animated countenances, as if they wer_eflecting upon one of the most beautiful and ingenious discoveries that th_ntellect of man had ever made. When they had in some measure recovered fro_heir trance of admiration, Job Trotter discharged himself of the rest of hi_ommission. Perker nodded his head thoughtfully, and pulled out his watch.
  • ‘At ten precisely, I will be there,’ said the little man. ‘Sam is quite right.
  • Tell him so. Will you take a glass of wine, Lowten?’ ‘No, thank you, Sir.’
  • ‘You mean yes, I think,’ said the little man, turning to the sideboard for _ecanter and glasses.
  • As Lowten did mean yes, he said no more on the subject, but inquired of Job, in an audible whisper, whether the portrait of Perker, which hung opposite th_ireplace, wasn’t a wonderful likeness, to which Job of course replied that i_as. The wine being by this time poured out, Lowten drank to Mrs. Perker an_he children, and Job to Perker. The gentleman in the plush shorts and cotton_onsidering it no part of his duty to show the people from the office out, consistently declined to answer the bell, and they showed themselves out. Th_ttorney betook himself to his drawing–room, the clerk to the Magpie an_tump, and Job to Covent Garden Market to spend the night in a vegetabl_asket.
  • Punctually at the appointed hour next morning, the good–humoured littl_ttorney tapped at Mr. Pickwick’s door, which was opened with great alacrit_y Sam Weller.
  • ‘Mr. Perker, sir,’ said Sam, announcing the visitor to Mr. Pickwick, who wa_itting at the window in a thoughtful attitude. ‘Wery glad you’ve looked i_ccidentally, Sir. I rather think the gov’nor wants to have a word and a hal_ith you, Sir.’
  • Perker bestowed a look of intelligence on Sam, intimating that he understoo_e was not to say he had been sent for; and beckoning him to approach, whispered briefly in his ear.
  • ‘You don’t mean that ‘ere, Sir?’ said Sam, starting back in excessiv_urprise.
  • Perker nodded and smiled.
  • Mr. Samuel Weller looked at the little lawyer, then at Mr. Pickwick, then a_he ceiling, then at Perker again; grinned, laughed outright, and finally, catching up his hat from the carpet, without further explanation, disappeared.
  • ‘What does this mean?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker wit_stonishment. ‘What has put Sam into this extraordinary state?’
  • ‘Oh, nothing, nothing,’ replied Perker. ‘Come, my dear Sir, draw up your chai_o the table. I have a good deal to say to you.’
  • ‘What papers are those?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick, as the little man deposited o_he table a small bundle of documents tied with red tape.
  • ‘The papers in Bardell and Pickwick,’ replied Perker, undoing the knot wit_is teeth.
  • Mr. Pickwick grated the legs of his chair against the ground; and throwin_imself into it, folded his hands and looked sternly—if Mr. Pickwick eve_ould look sternly—at his legal friend.
  • ‘You don’t like to hear the name of the cause?’ said the little man, stil_usying himself with the knot.
  • ‘No, I do not indeed,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.
  • ‘Sorry for that,’ resumed Perker, ‘because it will form the subject of ou_onversation.’
  • ‘I would rather that the subject should be never mentioned between us, Perker,’ interposed Mr. Pickwick hastily.
  • ‘Pooh, pooh, my dear Sir,’ said the little man, untying the bundle, an_lancing eagerly at Mr. Pickwick out of the corners of his eyes. ‘It must b_entioned. I have come here on purpose. Now, are you ready to hear what I hav_o say, my dear Sir? No hurry; if you are not, I can wait. I have thi_orning’s paper here. Your time shall be mine. There!’ Hereupon, the littl_an threw one leg over the other, and made a show of beginning to read wit_reat composure and application.
  • ‘Well, well,’ said Mr. Pickwick, with a sigh, but softening into a smile a_he same time. ‘Say what you have to say; it’s the old story, I suppose?’
  • ‘With a difference, my dear Sir; with a difference,’ rejoined Perker, deliberately folding up the paper and putting it into his pocket again. ‘Mrs.
  • Bardell, the plaintiff in the action, is within these walls, Sir.’
  • ‘I know it,’ was Mr. Pickwick’s reply,
  • ‘Very good,’ retorted Perker. ‘And you know how she comes here, I suppose; _ean on what grounds, and at whose suit?’
  • ‘Yes; at least I have heard Sam’s account of the matter,’ said Mr. Pickwick, with affected carelessness.
  • ‘Sam’s account of the matter,’ replied Perker, ‘is, I will venture to say, _erfectly correct one. Well now, my dear Sir, the first question I have t_sk, is, whether this woman is to remain here?’
  • ‘To remain here!’ echoed Mr. Pickwick.
  • ‘To remain here, my dear Sir,’ rejoined Perker, leaning back in his chair an_ooking steadily at his client.
  • ‘How can you ask me?’ said that gentleman. ‘It rests with Dodson and Fogg; yo_now that very well.’
  • ‘I know nothing of the kind,’ retorted Perker firmly. ‘It does not rest wit_odson and Fogg; you know the men, my dear Sir, as well as I do. It rest_olely, wholly, and entirely with you.’
  • ‘With me!’ ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, rising nervously from his chair, an_eseating himself directly afterwards.
  • The little man gave a double–knock on the lid of his snuff–box, opened it, took a great pinch, shut it up again, and repeated the words, ‘With you.’
  • ‘I say, my dear Sir,’ resumed the little man, who seemed to gather confidenc_rom the snuff—‘I say, that her speedy liberation or perpetual imprisonmen_ests with you, and with you alone. Hear me out, my dear Sir, if you please, and do not be so very energetic, for it will only put you into a perspiratio_nd do no good whatever. I say,’ continued Perker, checking off each positio_n a different finger, as he laid it down—‘I say that nobody but you ca_escue her from this den of wretchedness; and that you can only do that, b_aying the costs of this suit—both of plaintive and defendant—into the hand_f these Freeman Court sharks. Now pray be quiet, my dear sir.’
  • Mr. Pickwick, whose face had been undergoing most surprising changes durin_his speech, and was evidently on the verge of a strong burst of indignation, calmed his wrath as well as he could. Perker, strengthening his argumentativ_owers with another pinch of snuff, proceeded—
  • ‘I have seen the woman, this morning. By paying the costs, you can obtain _ull release and discharge from the damages; and further—this I know is a fa_reater object of consideration with you, my dear sir—a voluntary statement, under her hand, in the form of a letter to me, that this business was, fro_he very first, fomented, and encouraged, and brought about, by these men, Dodson and Fogg; that she deeply regrets ever having been the instrument o_nnoyance or injury to you; and that she entreats me to intercede with you, and implore your pardon.’
  • ‘If I pay her costs for her,’ said Mr. Pickwick indignantly. ‘A valuabl_ocument, indeed!’
  • ‘No “if” in the case, my dear Sir,’ said Perker triumphantly. ‘There is th_ery letter I speak of. Brought to my office by another woman at nine o’cloc_his morning, before I had set foot in this place, or held any communicatio_ith Mrs. Bardell, upon my honour.’ Selecting the letter from the bundle, th_ittle lawyer laid it at Mr. Pickwick’s elbow, and took snuff for tw_onsecutive minutes, without winking.
  • ‘Is this all you have to say to me?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick mildly.
  • ‘Not quite,’ replied Perker. ‘I cannot undertake to say, at this moment, whether the wording of the cognovit, the nature of the ostensibl_onsideration, and the proof we can get together about the whole conduct o_he suit, will be sufficient to justify an indictment for conspiracy. I fea_ot, my dear Sir; they are too clever for that, I doubt. I do mean to say, however, that the whole facts, taken together, will be sufficient to justif_ou, in the minds of all reasonable men. And now, my dear Sir, I put it t_ou. This one hundred and fifty pounds, or whatever it may be—take it in roun_umbers—is nothing to you. A jury had decided against you; well, their verdic_s wrong, but still they decided as they thought right, and it is against you.
  • You have now an opportunity, on easy terms, of placing yourself in a muc_igher position than you ever could, by remaining here; which would only b_mputed, by people who didn’t know you, to sheer dogged, wrongheaded, bruta_bstinacy; nothing else, my dear Sir, believe me. Can you hesitate to avai_ourself of it, when it restores you to your friends, your old pursuits, you_ealth and amusements; when it liberates your faithful and attached servant, whom you otherwise doom to imprisonment for the whole of your life; and abov_ll, when it enables you to take the very magnanimous revenge—which I know, m_ear sir, is one after your own heart—of releasing this woman from a scene o_isery and debauchery, to which no man should ever be consigned, if I had m_ill, but the infliction of which on any woman, is even more frightful an_arbarous. Now I ask you, my dear sir, not only as your legal adviser, but a_our very true friend, will you let slip the occasion of attaining all thes_bjects, and doing all this good, for the paltry consideration of a few pound_inding their way into the pockets of a couple of rascals, to whom it makes n_anner of difference, except that the more they gain, the more they’ll seek, and so the sooner be led into some piece of knavery that must end in a crash?
  • I have put these considerations to you, my dear Sir, very feebly an_mperfectly, but I ask you to think of them. Turn them over in your mind a_ong as you please. I wait here most patiently for your answer.’
  • Before Mr. Pickwick could reply, before Mr. Perker had taken one twentiet_art of the snuff with which so unusually long an address imperativel_equired to be followed up, there was a low murmuring of voices outside, an_hen a hesitating knock at the door.
  • ‘Dear, dear,’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who had been evidently roused by hi_riend’s appeal; ‘what an annoyance that door is! Who is that?’
  • ‘Me, Sir,’ replied Sam Weller, putting in his head.
  • ‘I can’t speak to you just now, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘I am engaged at thi_oment, Sam.’
  • ‘Beg your pardon, Sir,’ rejoined Mr. Weller. ‘But here’s a lady here, Sir, a_ays she’s somethin’ wery partickler to disclose.’
  • ‘I can’t see any lady,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, whose mind was filled wit_isions of Mrs. Bardell.
  • ‘I wouldn’t make too sure o’ that, Sir,’ urged Mr. Weller, shaking his head.
  • ‘If you know’d who was near, sir, I rayther think you’d change your note; a_he hawk remarked to himself vith a cheerful laugh, ven he heerd th_obin–redbreast a–singin’ round the corner.’
  • ‘Who is it?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.
  • ‘Will you see her, Sir?’ asked Mr. Weller, holding the door in his hand as i_e had some curious live animal on the other side.
  • ‘I suppose I must,’ said Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker.
  • ‘Well then, all in to begin!’ cried Sam. ‘Sound the gong, draw up the curtain, and enter the two conspiraytors.’
  • As Sam Weller spoke, he threw the door open, and there rushed tumultuousl_nto the room, Mr. Nathaniel Winkle, leading after him by the hand, th_dentical young lady who at Dingley Dell had worn the boots with the fur roun_he tops, and who, now a very pleasing compound of blushes and confusion, an_ilac silk, and a smart bonnet, and a rich lace veil, looked prettier tha_ver.
  • ‘Miss Arabella Allen!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, rising from his chair.
  • ‘No,’ replied Mr. Winkle, dropping on his knees. ‘Mrs. Winkle. Pardon, my dea_riend, pardon!’
  • Mr. Pickwick could scarcely believe the evidence of his senses, and perhap_ould not have done so, but for the corroborative testimony afforded by th_miling countenance of Perker, and the bodily presence, in the background, o_am and the pretty housemaid; who appeared to contemplate the proceedings wit_he liveliest satisfaction.
  • ‘Oh, Mr. Pickwick!’ said Arabella, in a low voice, as if alarmed at th_ilence. ‘Can you forgive my imprudence?’
  • Mr. Pickwick returned no verbal response to this appeal; but he took off hi_pectacles in great haste, and seizing both the young lady’s hands in his, kissed her a great number of times—perhaps a greater number than wa_bsolutely necessary—and then, still retaining one of her hands, told Mr.
  • Winkle he was an audacious young dog, and bade him get up. This, Mr. Winkle, who had been for some seconds scratching his nose with the brim of his hat, i_ penitent manner, did; whereupon Mr. Pickwick slapped him on the back severa_imes, and then shook hands heartily with Perker, who, not to be behind–han_n the compliments of the occasion, saluted both the bride and the prett_ousemaid with right good–will, and, having wrung Mr, Winkle’s hand mos_ordially, wound up his demonstrations of joy by taking snuff enough to se_ny half–dozen men with ordinarily–constructed noses, a–sneezing for life.
  • ‘Why, my dear girl,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘how has all this come about? Come!
  • Sit down, and let me hear it all. How well she looks, doesn’t she, Perker?’ added Mr. Pickwick, surveying Arabella’s face with a look of as much pride an_xultation, as if she had been his daughter.
  • ‘Delightful, my dear Sir,’ replied the little man. ‘If I were not a marrie_an myself, I should be disposed to envy you, you dog.’ Thus expressin_imself, the little lawyer gave Mr. Winkle a poke in the chest, which tha_entleman reciprocated; after which they both laughed very loudly, but not s_oudly as Mr. Samuel Weller, who had just relieved his feelings by kissing th_retty housemaid under cover of the cupboard door.
  • ‘I can never be grateful enough to you, Sam, I am sure,’ said Arabella, wit_he sweetest smile imaginable. ‘I shall not forget your exertions in th_arden at Clifton.’
  • ‘Don’t say nothin’ wotever about it, ma’am,’ replied Sam. ‘I only assiste_atur, ma’am; as the doctor said to the boy’s mother, after he’d bled him t_eath.’
  • ‘Mary, my dear, sit down,’ said Mr. Pickwick, cutting short these compliments.
  • ‘Now then; how long have you been married, eh?’
  • Arabella looked bashfully at her lord and master, who replied, ‘Only thre_ays.’
  • ‘Only three days, eh?’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Why, what have you been doing thes_hree months?’
  • ‘Ah, to be sure!’ interposed Perker; ‘come, account for this idleness. You se_r. Pickwick’s only astonishment is, that it wasn’t all over, months ago.’
  • ‘Why the fact is,’ replied Mr. Winkle, looking at his blushing young wife, ‘that I could not persuade Bella to run away, for a long time. And when I ha_ersuaded her, it was a long time more before we could find an opportunity.
  • Mary had to give a month’s warning, too, before she could leave her place nex_oor, and we couldn’t possibly have done it without her assistance.’ ‘Upon m_ord,’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick, who by this time had resumed his spectacles, and was looking from Arabella to Winkle, and from Winkle to Arabella, with a_uch delight depicted in his countenance as warmheartedness and kindly feelin_an communicate to the human face—‘upon my word! you seem to have been ver_ystematic in your proceedings. And is your brother acquainted with all this, my dear?’
  • ‘Oh, no, no,’ replied Arabella, changing colour. ‘Dear Mr. Pickwick, he mus_nly know it from you—from your lips alone. He is so violent, so prejudiced, and has been so—so anxious in behalf of his friend, Mr, Sawyer,’ adde_rabella, looking down, ‘that I fear the consequences dreadfully.’
  • ‘Ah, to be sure,’ said Perker gravely. ‘You must take this matter in hand fo_hem, my dear sir. These young men will respect you, when they would listen t_obody else. You must prevent mischief, my dear Sir. Hot blood, hot blood.’ And the little man took a warning pinch, and shook his head doubtfully.
  • ‘You forget, my love,’ said Mr. Pickwick gently, ‘you forget that I am _risoner.’
  • ‘No, indeed I do not, my dear Sir,’ replied Arabella. ‘I never have forgotte_t. I have never ceased to think how great your sufferings must have been i_his shocking place. But I hoped that what no consideration for yourself woul_nduce you to do, a regard to our happiness might. If my brother hears o_his, first, from you, I feel certain we shall be reconciled. He is my onl_elation in the world, Mr. Pickwick, and unless you plead for me, I fear _ave lost even him. I have done wrong, very, very wrong, I know.‘Here poo_rabella hid her face in her handkerchief, and wept bitterly.
  • Mr. Pickwick’s nature was a good deal worked upon, by these same tears; bu_hen Mrs. Winkle, drying her eyes, took to coaxing and entreating in th_weetest tones of a very sweet voice, he became particularly restless, an_vidently undecided how to act, as was evinced by sundry nervous rubbings o_is spectacle–glasses, nose, tights, head, and gaiters.
  • Taking advantage of these symptoms of indecision, Mr. Perker (to whom, i_ppeared, the young couple had driven straight that morning) urged with lega_oint and shrewdness that Mr. Winkle, senior, was still unacquainted with th_mportant rise in life’s flight of steps which his son had taken; that th_uture expectations of the said son depended entirely upon the said Winkle, senior, continuing to regard him with undiminished feelings of affection an_ttachment, which it was very unlikely he would, if this great event were lon_ept a secret from him; that Mr. Pickwick, repairing to Bristol to seek Mr.
  • Allen, might, with equal reason, repair to Birmingham to seek Mr. Winkle, senior; lastly, that Mr. Winkle, senior, had good right and title to conside_r. Pickwick as in some degree the guardian and adviser of his son, and tha_t consequently behoved that gentleman, and was indeed due to his persona_haracter, to acquaint the aforesaid Winkle, senior, personally, and by wor_f mouth, with the whole circumstances of the case, and with the share he ha_aken in the transaction.
  • Mr. Tupman and Mr. Snodgrass arrived, most opportunely, in this stage of th_leadings, and as it was necessary to explain to them all that had occurred, together with the various reasons pro and con, the whole of the arguments wer_one over again, after which everybody urged every argument in his own way, and at his own length. And, at last, Mr. Pickwick, fairly argued an_emonstrated out of all his resolutions, and being in imminent danger of bein_rgued and remonstrated out of his wits, caught Arabella in his arms, an_eclaring that she was a very amiable creature, and that he didn’t know how i_as, but he had always been very fond of her from the first, said he coul_ever find it in his heart to stand in the way of young people’s happiness, and they might do with him as they pleased.
  • Mr. Weller’s first act, on hearing this concession, was to despatch Jo_rotter to the illustrious Mr. Pell, with an authority to deliver to th_earer the formal discharge which his prudent parent had had the foresight t_eave in the hands of that learned gentleman, in case it should be, at an_ime, required on an emergency; his next proceeding was, to invest his whol_tock of ready–money in the purchase of five–and–twenty gallons of mil_orter, which he himself dispensed on the racket–ground to everybody who woul_artake of it; this done, he hurra’d in divers parts of the building until h_ost his voice, and then quietly relapsed into his usual collected an_hilosophical condition.
  • At three o’clock that afternoon, Mr. Pickwick took a last look at his littl_oom, and made his way, as well as he could, through the throng of debtors wh_ressed eagerly forward to shake him by the hand, until he reached the lodg_teps. He turned here, to look about him, and his eye lightened as he did so.
  • In all the crowd of wan, emaciated faces, he saw not one which was not happie_or his sympathy and charity.
  • ‘Perker,’ said Mr. Pickwick, beckoning one young man towards him, ‘this is Mr.
  • Jingle, whom I spoke to you about.’
  • ‘Very good, my dear Sir,’ replied Perker, looking hard at Jingle. ‘You wil_ee me again, young man, to–morrow. I hope you may live to remember and fee_eeply, what I shall have to communicate, Sir.’
  • Jingle bowed respectfully, trembled very much as he took Mr. Pickwick’_roffered hand, and withdrew.
  • ‘Job you know, I think?’ said Mr. Pickwick, presenting that gentleman.
  • ‘I know the rascal,’ replied Perker good–humouredly. ‘See after your friend, and be in the way to–morrow at one. Do you hear? Now, is there anything more?’
  • ‘Nothing,’ rejoined Mr. Pickwick. ‘You have delivered the little parcel I gav_ou for your old landlord, Sam?’
  • ‘I have, Sir,’ replied Sam. ‘He bust out a–cryin’, Sir, and said you wos wer_en’rous and thoughtful, and he only wished you could have him innockilate_or a gallopin’ consumption, for his old friend as had lived here so long wo_ead, and he’d noweres to look for another.’ ‘Poor fellow, poor fellow!’ sai_r. Pickwick. ‘God bless you, my friends!’
  • As Mr. Pickwick uttered this adieu, the crowd raised a loud shout. Many amon_hem were pressing forward to shake him by the hand again, when he drew hi_rm through Perker’s, and hurried from the prison, far more sad an_elancholy, for the moment, than when he had first entered it. Alas! how man_ad and unhappy beings had he left behind!
  • A happy evening was that for at least one party in the George and Vulture; an_ight and cheerful were two of the hearts that emerged from its hospitabl_oor next morning. The owners thereof were Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller, th_ormer of whom was speedily deposited inside a comfortable post–coach, with _ittle dickey behind, in which the latter mounted with great agility.
  • ‘Sir,’ called out Mr. Weller to his master.
  • ‘Well, Sam,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, thrusting his head out of the window.
  • ‘I wish them horses had been three months and better in the Fleet, Sir.’
  • ‘Why, Sam?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.
  • ‘Wy, Sir,’ exclaimed Mr. Weller, rubbing his hands, ‘how they would go if the_ad been!’