been borrowed for the occasion from the public-house, were all drawn

up in a tray, which was deposited on the landing outside the door.

Notwithstanding the highly satisfactory nature of all these

arrangements, there was a cloud on the countenance of Mr Bob

Sawyer, as he sat by the fireside. There was a sympathising

expression, too, in the features of Mr Ben Allen, as he gazed intently

on the coals, and a tone of melancholy in his voice, as he said, after a

long silence - 'Well, it is unlucky she should have taken it in her head

to turn sour, just on this occasion. She might at least have waited till

to-morrow.'

That's her malevolence - that's her malevolence,' returned Mr Bob

Sawyer vehemently. 'She says that if I can afford to give a party I

ought to be able to pay her confounded ‘little bill.’' 'How long has it

been running?' inquired Mr Ben Allen. A bill, by the bye, is the most

extraordinary locomotive engine that the genius of man ever produced.

It would keep on running during the longest lifetime, without ever

once stopping of its own accord.

'Only a quarter, and a month or so,' replied Mr Bob Sawyer.

Ben Allen coughed hopelessly, and directed a searching look between

the two top bars of the stove.

It'll be a deuced unpleasant thing if she takes it into her head to let

out, when those fellows are here, won't it?' said Mr Ben Allen at

length.

Horrible,' replied Bob Sawyer, 'horrible.' A low tap was heard at the

room door. Mr Bob Sawyer looked expressively at his friend, and bade

the tapper come in; whereupon a dirty, slipshod girl in black cotton

stockings, who might have passed for the neglected daughter of a

superannuated dustman in very reduced circumstances, thrust in her

head, and said -

'Please, Mister Sawyer, Missis Raddle wants to speak to you.'

Before Mr Bob Sawyer could return any answer, the girl suddenly

disappeared with a jerk, as if somebody had given her a violent pull

behind; this mysterious exit was no sooner accomplished, than there

was another tap at the door - a smart, pointed tap, which seemed to

say, 'Here I am, and in I'm coming.'

Mr, Bob Sawyer glanced at his friend with a look of abject

apprehension, and once more cried, 'Come in.'

The Pickwick Papers