If I knew any respectable gentleman who would take the matter up,'

continued Mr Trotter. 'I might have some hope of preventing the

elopement; but there's the same difficulty, Mr Walker, just the same. I

know no gentleman in this strange place; and ten to one if I did,

whether he would believe my story.'

Come this way,' said Sam, suddenly jumping up, and grasping the

mulberry man by the arm. 'My mas'r's the man you want, I see.' And

after a slight resistance on the part of Job Trotter, Sam led his newly-

found friend to the apartment of Mr Pickwick, to whom he presented

him, together with a brief summary of the dialogue we have just

repeated.

I am very sorry to betray my master, sir,' said Job Trotter, applying to

his eyes a pink checked pocket-handkerchief about six inches square.

The feeling does you a great deal of honour,' replied Mr Pickwick; 'but

it is your duty, nevertheless.'

I know it is my duty, Sir,' replied Job, with great emotion. 'We should

all try to discharge our duty, Sir, and I humbly endeavour to

discharge mine, Sir; but it is a hard trial to betray a master, Sir,

whose clothes you wear, and whose bread you eat, even though he is

a scoundrel, Sir.'

'You are a very good fellow,' said Mr Pickwick, much affected; 'an

honest fellow.'

Come, come,' interposed Sam, who had witnessed Mr Trotter's tears

with considerable impatience, 'blow this 'ere water-cart bis'ness. It

won't do no good, this won't.'

'Sam,' said Mr Pickwick reproachfully. 'I am sorry to find that you

have so little respect for this young man's feelings.'

His feelin's is all wery well, Sir,' replied Mr Weller; 'and as they're so

wery fine, and it's a pity he should lose 'em, I think he'd better keep

em in his own buzzum, than let 'em ewaporate in hot water, 'specially

as they do no good. Tears never yet wound up a clock, or worked a

steam ingin'. The next time you go out to a smoking party, young

fellow, fill your pipe with that 'ere reflection; and for the present just

put that bit of pink gingham into your pocket. 'Tain't so handsome

that you need keep waving it about, as if you was a tight-rope dancer.'

My man is in the right,' said Mr Pickwick, accosting Job, 'although

his mode of expressing his opinion is somewhat homely, and

occasionally incomprehensible.'

The Pickwick Papers