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‘
And
never
came
back
again
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Wrong
for
vunce
,
sir
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Weller
,
‘
for
back
he
come
,
two
minits
afore
the
time
,
a
-
bilin
’
with
rage
,
sayin
’
how
he
’
d
been
nearly
run
over
by
a
hackney
-
coach
that
he
warn
’
t
used
to
it
;
and
he
was
blowed
if
he
wouldn
’
t
write
to
the
lord
mayor
.
They
got
him
pacified
at
last
;
and
for
five
years
arter
that
,
he
never
even
so
much
as
peeped
out
o
’
the
lodge
gate
.
’
‘
At
the
expiration
of
that
time
he
died
,
I
suppose
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
No
,
he
didn
’
t
,
Sir
,
’
replied
Sam
.
‘
He
got
a
curiosity
to
go
and
taste
the
beer
at
a
new
public
-
house
over
the
way
,
and
it
wos
such
a
wery
nice
parlour
,
that
he
took
it
into
his
head
to
go
there
every
night
,
which
he
did
for
a
long
time
,
always
comin
’
back
reg
’
lar
about
a
quarter
of
an
hour
afore
the
gate
shut
,
which
was
all
wery
snug
and
comfortable
.
At
last
he
began
to
get
so
precious
jolly
,
that
he
used
to
forget
how
the
time
vent
,
or
care
nothin
’
at
all
about
it
,
and
he
went
on
gettin
’
later
and
later
,
till
vun
night
his
old
friend
wos
just
a
-
shuttin
’
the
gate
—
had
turned
the
key
in
fact
—
wen
he
come
up
.
"
Hold
hard
,
Bill
,
"
he
says
.
"
Wot
,
ain
’
t
you
come
home
yet
,
Tventy
?
’
says
the
turnkey
,
"
I
thought
you
wos
in
,
long
ago
.
"
"
No
,
I
wasn
’
t
,
"
says
the
little
man
,
with
a
smile
.
"
Well
,
then
,
I
’
ll
tell
you
wot
it
is
,
my
friend
,
"
says
the
turnkey
,
openin
’
the
gate
wery
slow
and
sulky
,
"
it
’
s
my
‘
pinion
as
you
’
ve
got
into
bad
company
o
’
late
,
which
I
’
m
wery
sorry
to
see
.
Now
,
I
don
’
t
wish
to
do
nothing
harsh
,
"
he
says
,
"
but
if
you
can
’
t
confine
yourself
to
steady
circles
,
and
find
your
vay
back
at
reg
’
lar
hours
,
as
sure
as
you
’
re
a
-
standin
’
there
,
I
’
ll
shut
you
out
altogether
!
"
The
little
man
was
seized
vith
a
wiolent
fit
o
’
tremblin
’
,
and
never
vent
outside
the
prison
walls
artervards
!
’
As
Sam
concluded
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
slowly
retraced
his
steps
downstairs
.
After
a
few
thoughtful
turns
in
the
Painted
Ground
,
which
,
as
it
was
now
dark
,
was
nearly
deserted
,
he
intimated
to
Mr
.
Weller
that
he
thought
it
high
time
for
him
to
withdraw
for
the
night
;
requesting
him
to
seek
a
bed
in
some
adjacent
public
–
house
,
and
return
early
in
the
morning
,
to
make
arrangements
for
the
removal
of
his
master
’
s
wardrobe
from
the
George
and
Vulture
.
This
request
Mr
.
Samuel
Weller
prepared
to
obey
,
with
as
good
a
grace
as
he
could
assume
,
but
with
a
very
considerable
show
of
reluctance
nevertheless
.
He
even
went
so
far
as
to
essay
sundry
ineffectual
hints
regarding
the
expediency
of
stretching
himself
on
the
gravel
for
that
night
;
but
finding
Mr
.
Pickwick
obstinately
deaf
to
any
such
suggestions
,
finally
withdrew
.
There
is
no
disguising
the
fact
that
Mr
.
Pickwick
felt
very
low
-
spirited
and
uncomfortable
—
not
for
lack
of
society
,
for
the
prison
was
very
full
,
and
a
bottle
of
wine
would
at
once
have
purchased
the
utmost
good
-
fellowship
of
a
few
choice
spirits
,
without
any
more
formal
ceremony
of
introduction
;
but
he
was
alone
in
the
coarse
,
vulgar
crowd
,
and
felt
the
depression
of
spirits
and
sinking
of
heart
,
naturally
consequent
on
the
reflection
that
he
was
cooped
and
caged
up
,
without
a
prospect
of
liberation
.
As
to
the
idea
of
releasing
himself
by
ministering
to
the
sharpness
of
Dodson
&
Fogg
,
it
never
for
an
instant
entered
his
thoughts
.
In
this
frame
of
mind
he
turned
again
into
the
coffee
-
room
gallery
,
and
walked
slowly
to
and
fro
.
The
place
was
intolerably
dirty
,
and
the
smell
of
tobacco
smoke
perfectly
suffocating
.
There
was
a
perpetual
slamming
and
banging
of
doors
as
the
people
went
in
and
out
;
and
the
noise
of
their
voices
and
footsteps
echoed
and
re
-
echoed
through
the
passages
constantly
.
A
young
woman
,
with
a
child
in
her
arms
,
who
seemed
scarcely
able
to
crawl
,
from
emaciation
and
misery
,
was
walking
up
and
down
the
passage
in
conversation
with
her
husband
,
who
had
no
other
place
to
see
her
in
.
As
they
passed
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
he
could
hear
the
female
sob
bitterly
;
and
once
she
burst
into
such
a
passion
of
grief
,
that
she
was
compelled
to
lean
against
the
wall
for
support
,
while
the
man
took
the
child
in
his
arms
,
and
tried
to
soothe
her
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
heart
was
really
too
full
to
bear
it
,
and
he
went
upstairs
to
bed
.
