Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/418

340 340 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

" What's the t'other name ? " said Sam Weller, looking round.

" How should I know ? " briskly replied the young gentleman below the hairy cap.

« You're a sharp boy, you are." said Mr. Weller; " only I wouldn't show that wery fine edge too much, if I was you, in case anybody took it off. What do you mean by comin* to a hot-el, and asking arter Sam, vith as much politeness as a vild Indian ? "

" 'Cos an old gen'hn'n told me to," replied the boy.


 * -' What old gen'lm'n ? " inquired Sam, with deep disdain.

"Him as drives a Ipswich coach, and uses our parlour" — rejoined the boy. He told me yesterday mornin' to come to the George in Wultur this arternoon, and ask for Sam."

"It's my father, my dear" — said Mr. Weller, turning with an expla- natory air to the young lady in the bar ; ." blessed if I think he hardly knows wot my other name is. Veil, young brockiley sprout, wot then?"

" Why then,*' said the boy, " you wos to come to him at six o'clock to our 'ouse 'cos he wants to see you — Blue Boar, Leaden'all Markit, Shall I say you're comin' ? "

"You mat/ wenture on that 'ere statement, Sir," replied Sam. And thus empowered, the young gentleman walked away, awakening all the, echoes in George Yard as he did so, with several chaste and extremely correct imitations of a drover's whistle, delivered in a tone of peculiar richness and volume.

Mr. Weller having obtained leave of absence from Mr. Pickwick, who, in his then state of excitement and worry was by no means displeased at being left alone, set forth long before the appointed hour^ and having plenty of time at his disposal, sauntered down as far as the Mansion House, where he paused and contemplated, with a face of great calmness and philosophy, the numerous cads and drivers of short; stages who assemble near that famous place of resort, to the great terror and confusion of the old-lady population of these realms. Having loitered here, for half an hour or so, Mr. Weller turned, and began wending his way towards Leadenhall Market, through a variety of bye streets and courts. As he was sauntering away his spare time, and stopped to look at almost every object that met his gaze, it is by no means surprising that Mr. Weller should have paused before a small stationer's and print-seller's window ; but without further explanation it does appear surprising that his eyes should have no sooner rested on certain pictures which were exposed for sale therein, than he gave a sudden start, smote his right leg with great vehemence, and exclaimed with energy, "If it hadn't been for this, I should ha' forgot all about it, till it was too late ! "

The particular picture on which Sam Weller's eyes were fixed, as he said this, was a highly coloured representation of a couple of human hearts skewered together with an arrow, cooking before a cheerful fire, while a male and female cannibal in modern attire, the gentleman being clad in a blue coat and white trousers, and the lady in a deep red pelisse with a parasol of the same, were apnroaching the meal with hurigrvL