the shells on the table, while the gentleman in blue played an

accompaniment upon an ingenious musical instrument formed of a

hair-comb upon a curl-paper. At last, when the punch was all gone,

and the night nearly so, they sallied forth to see each other home. Mr

Tuckle no sooner got into the open air, than he was seized with a

sudden desire to lie on the curbstone; Sam thought it would be a pity

to contradict him, and so let him have his own way. As the cocked hat

would have been spoiled if left there, Sam very considerately flattened

it down on the head of the gentleman in blue, and putting the big

stick in his hand, propped him up against his own street-door, rang

the bell, and walked quietly home.

At a much earlier hour next morning than his usual time of rising, Mr

Pickwick walked downstairs completely dressed, and rang the bell.

Sam,' said Mr Pickwick, when Mr Weller appeared in reply to the

summons, 'shut the door.'

Mr Weller did so.

'There was an unfortunate occurrence here, last night, Sam,' said Mr

Pickwick, 'which gave Mr Winkle some cause to apprehend violence

from Mr Dowler.'

So I've heerd from the old lady downstairs, Sir,' replied Sam.

And I'm sorry to say, Sam,' continued Mr Pickwick, with a most

perplexed countenance, 'that in dread of this violence, Mr Winkle has

gone away.'

'Gone avay!' said Sam.

Left the house early this morning, without the slightest previous

communication with me,' replied Mr Pickwick. 'And is gone, I know

not where.'

He should ha' stopped and fought it out, Sir,' replied Sam

contemptuously. 'It wouldn't take much to settle that 'ere Dowler, Sir.'

'Well, Sam,' said Mr Pickwick, 'I may have my doubts of his great

bravery and determination also. But however that may be, Mr Winkle

is gone. He must be found, Sam. Found and brought back to me.' 'And

s'pose he won't come back, Sir?' said Sam.

'He must be made, Sam,' said Mr Pickwick.

Who's to do it, Sir?' inquired Sam, with a smile.

The Pickwick Papers