materially, I suppose,’ said Fogg. ‘You don't say that, sir,’ said

Ramsey, starting back; ‘the time was only out last night, Sir.’ ‘I do say

it, though,’ said Fogg, ‘my clerk's just gone to file it. Hasn't Mr

Jackson gone to file that declaration in Bullman and Ramsey, Mr

Wicks?’ Of course I said yes, and then Fogg coughed again, and

looked at Ramsey. ‘My God!’ said Ramsey; ‘and here have I nearly

driven myself mad, scraping this money together, and all to no

purpose.’ ‘None at all,’ said Fogg coolly; ‘so you had better go back and

scrape some more together, and bring it here in time.’ ‘I can't get it, by

God!’ said Ramsey, striking the desk with his fist. ‘Don't bully me, sir,’

said Fogg, getting into a passion on purpose. ‘I am not bullying you,

sir,’ said Ramsey. ‘You are,’ said Fogg; ‘get out, sir; get out of this

office, Sir, and come back, Sir, when you know how to behave

yourself.’ Well, Ramsey tried to speak, but Fogg wouldn't let him, so

he put the money in his pocket, and sneaked out. The door was

scarcely shut, when old Fogg turned round to me, with a sweet smile

on his face, and drew the declaration out of his coat pocket. ‘Here,

Wicks,’ says Fogg, ‘take a cab, and go down to the Temple as quick as

you can, and file that. The costs are quite safe, for he's a steady man

with a large family, at a salary of five-and-twenty shillings a week, and

if he gives us a warrant of attorney, as he must in the end, I know his

employers will see it paid; so we may as well get all we can get out of

him, Mr Wicks; it's a Christian act to do it, Mr Wicks, for with his

large family and small income, he'll be all the better for a good lesson

against getting into debt - won't he, Mr Wicks, won't he?’ - and he

smiled so good-naturedly as he went away, that it was delightful to

see him. He is a capital man of business,' said Wicks, in a tone of the

deepest admiration, 'capital, isn't he?'

The other three cordially subscribed to this opinion, and the anecdote

afforded the most unlimited satisfaction.

Nice men these here, Sir,' whispered Mr Weller to his master; 'wery

nice notion of fun they has, Sir.'

Mr Pickwick nodded assent, and coughed to attract the attention of

the young gentlemen behind the partition, who, having now relaxed

their minds by a little conversation among themselves, condescended

to take some notice of the stranger.

'I wonder whether Fogg's disengaged now?' said Jackson.

I'll see,' said Wicks, dismounting leisurely from his stool. 'What name

shall I tell Mr Fogg?'

Pickwick,' replied the illustrious subject of these memoirs.

The Pickwick Papers