Well, that is very strange,' said the mulberry man, with great

simplicity of manner. 'I like yours so much, that I wanted to speak to

you, from the very first moment I saw you under the pump.' 'Did you

though?'

'Upon my word. Now, isn't that curious?'

Wery sing'ler,' said Sam, inwardly congratulating himself upon the

softness of the stranger. 'What's your name, my patriarch?'

'Job.'

And a wery good name it is; only one I know that ain't got a nickname

to it. What's the other name?'

Trotter,' said the stranger. 'What is yours?'

Sam bore in mind his master's caution, and replied -

My name's Walker; my master's name's Wilkins. Will you take a drop

o' somethin' this mornin', Mr Trotter?'

Mr Trotter acquiesced in this agreeable proposal; and having

deposited his book in his coat pocket, accompanied Mr Weller to the

tap, where they were soon occupied in discussing an exhilarating

compound, formed by mixing together, in a pewter vessel, certain

quantities of British Hollands and the fragrant essence of the clove.

'And what sort of a place have you got?' inquired Sam, as he filled his

companion's glass, for the second time.

Bad,' said Job, smacking his lips, 'very bad.'

You don't mean that?' said Sam.

I do, indeed. Worse than that, my master's going to be married.'

No.'

Yes; and worse than that, too, he's going to run away with an

immense rich heiress, from boarding-school.'

What a dragon!' said Sam, refilling his companion's glass. 'It's some

boarding-school in this town, I suppose, ain't it?' Now, although this

question was put in the most careless tone imaginable, Mr Job Trotter

plainly showed by gestures that he perceived his new friend's anxiety

to draw forth an answer to it. He emptied his glass, looked

mysteriously at his companion, winked both of his small eyes, one

The Pickwick Papers