'It's hard work,' said Richard. 'What do you say to some beer?'

Kit at first declined, but presently consented, and they adjourned to

the neighbouring bar together.

We'll drink our friend what's-his-name,' said Dick, holding up the

bright frothy pot; ' - that was talking to you this morning, you know - I

know him - a good fellow, but eccentric - very - here's what's-his-

name!'

Kit pledged him.

He lives in my house,' said Dick; 'at least in the house occupied by

the firm in which I'm a sort of a - of a managing partner - a difficult

fellow to get anything out of, but we like him - we like him.'

'I must be going, sir, if you please,' said Kit, moving away.

Don't be in a hurry, Christopher,' replied his patron, 'we'll drink your

mother.'

Thank you, sir.'

An excellent woman that mother of yours, Christopher,' said Mr

Swiveller. 'Who ran to catch me when I fell, and kissed the place to

make it well? My mother. A charming woman. He's a liberal sort of

fellow. We must get him to do something for your mother. Does he

know her, Christopher?'

Kit shook his head, and glancing slyly at his questioner, thanked him,

and made off before he could say another word.

Humph!' said Mr Swiveller pondering, 'this is queer. Nothing but

mysteries in connection with Brass's house. I'll keep my own counsel,

however. Everybody and anybody has been in my confidence as yet,

but now I think I'll set up in business for myself. Queer - very queer!'

After pondering deeply and with a face of exceeding wisdom for some

time, Mr Swiveller drank some more of the beer, and summoning a

small boy who had been watching his proceedings, poured forth the

few remaining drops as a libation on the gravel, and bade him carry

the empty vessel to the bar with his compliments, and above all things

to lead a sober and temperate life, and abstain from all intoxicating

and exciting liquors. Having given him this piece of moral advice for

his trouble (which, as he wisely observed, was far better than half-

pence) the Perpetual Grand Master of the Glorious Apollos thrust his

hands into his pockets and sauntered away: still pondering as he

went.

The Old Curiosity Shop