a book about the 'Merrikins as'll pay all his expenses and more, if he

blows 'em up enough.'

Mr Weller delivered this hurried abstract of his plot with great

vehemence of whisper; and then, as if fearful of weakening the effect

of the tremendous communication by any further dialogue, he gave

the coachman's salute, and vanished.

Sam had scarcely recovered his usual composure of countenance,

which had been greatly disturbed by the secret communication of his

respected relative, when Mr Pickwick accosted him.

Sam,' said that gentleman.

Sir,' replied Mr Weller.

I am going for a walk round the prison, and I wish you to attend me. I

see a prisoner we know coming this way, Sam,' said Mr Pickwick,

smiling.

'Wich, Sir?' inquired Mr Weller; 'the gen'l'm'n vith the head o' hair, or

the interestin' captive in the stockin's?'

Neither,' rejoined Mr Pickwick. 'He is an older friend of yours, Sam.'

O' mine, Sir?' exclaimed Mr Weller.

You recollect the gentleman very well, I dare say, Sam,' replied Mr

Pickwick, 'or else you are more unmindful of your old acquaintances

than I think you are. Hush! not a word, Sam; not a syllable. Here he

is.'

As Mr Pickwick spoke, Jingle walked up. He looked less miserable

than before, being clad in a half-worn suit of clothes, which, with Mr

Pickwick's assistance, had been released from the pawnbroker's. He

wore clean linen too, and had had his hair cut. He was very pale and

thin, however; and as he crept slowly up, leaning on a stick, it was

easy to see that he had suffered severely from illness and want, and

was still very weak. He took off his hat as Mr Pickwick saluted him,

and seemed much humbled and abashed at the sight of Sam Weller.

Following close at his heels, came Mr Job Trotter, in the catalogue of

whose vices, want of faith and attachment to his companion could at

all events find no place. He was still ragged and squalid, but his face

was not quite so hollow as on his first meeting with Mr Pickwick, a few

days before. As he took off his hat to our benevolent old friend, he

murmured some broken expressions of gratitude, and muttered

something about having been saved from starving.

The Pickwick Papers