Now, my fine fellow!' said the man in the rough coat, in an imperious

tone, attempting at the same time to push his way past.

Now, Sir, wot's the matter?' replied Sam, returning the push with

compound interest.

Come, none of this, my man; this won't do with me,' said the owner of

the rough coat, raising his voice, and turning white. 'Here, Smouch!'

Well, wot's amiss here?' growled the man in the brown coat, who had

been gradually sneaking up the court during this short dialogue.

Only some insolence of this young man's,' said the principal, giving

Sam another push.

'Come, none o' this gammon,' growled Smouch, giving him another,

and a harder one.

This last push had the effect which it was intended by the experienced

Mr Smouch to produce; for while Sam, anxious to return the

compliment, was grinding that gentleman's body against the door-

post, the principal crept past, and made his way to the bar, whither

Sam, after bandying a few epithetical remarks with Mr Smouch,

followed at once.

Good-morning, my dear,' said the principal, addressing the young

lady at the bar, with Botany Bay ease, and New South Wales gentility;

'which is Mr Pickwick's room, my dear?'

'Show him up,' said the barmaid to a waiter, without deigning another

look at the exquisite, in reply to his inquiry.

The waiter led the way upstairs as he was desired, and the man in the

rough coat followed, with Sam behind him, who, in his progress up

the staircase, indulged in sundry gestures indicative of supreme

contempt and defiance, to the unspeakable gratification of the

servants and other lookers-on. Mr Smouch, who was troubled with a

hoarse cough, remained below, and expectorated in the passage.

Mr Pickwick was fast asleep in bed, when his early visitor, followed by

Sam, entered the room. The noise they made, in so doing, awoke him.

Shaving-water, Sam,' said Mr Pickwick, from within the curtains.

Shave you directly, Mr Pickwick,' said the visitor, drawing one of them

back from the bed's head. 'I've got an execution against you, at the

suit of Bardell. - Here's the warrant. - Common Pleas. - Here's my

card. I suppose you'll come over to my house.' Giving Mr Pickwick a

The Pickwick Papers