read the card.
'Namby, Bell Alley, Coleman Street.'

At this point, Sam Weller, who had had his eyes fixed hitherto on Mr.
Namby's shining beaver, interfered.

'Are you a Quaker?' said Sam.

'I'll let you know I am, before I've done with you,' replied the
indignant officer. 'I'll teach you manners, my fine fellow, one of these
fine mornings.'

'Thank'ee,' said Sam. 'I'll do the same to you. Take your hat off.' With
this, Mr. Weller, in the most dexterous manner, knocked Mr. Namby's
hat to the other side of the room, with such violence, that he had very
nearly caused him to swallow the gold toothpick into the bargain.

'Observe this, Mr. Pickwick,' said the disconcerted officer, gasping
for breath. 'I've been assaulted in the execution of my dooty by your
servant in your chamber. I'm in bodily fear. I call you to witness
this.'

'Don't witness nothin', Sir,' interposed Sam. 'Shut your eyes up tight,
Sir. I'd pitch him out o' winder, only he couldn't fall far enough,
'cause o' the leads outside.'

'Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick, in an angry voice, as his attendant made
various demonstrations of hostilities, 'if you say another word, or
offer the slightest interference with this person, I discharge you that
instant.'

'But, Sir!' said Sam.

'Hold your tongue,' interposed Mr. Pickwick. 'Take that hat up again.'

But this Sam flatly and positively refused to do; and, after he had
been severely reprimanded by his master, the officer, being in a hurry,
condescended to pick it up himself, venting a great variety of threats
against Sam meanwhile, which that gentleman received with perfect
composure, merely observing that if Mr. Namby would have the goodness
to put his hat on again, he would knock it into the latter end of
next week. Mr. Namby, perhaps thinking that such a process might
be productive of inconvenience to himself, declined to offer the
temptation, and, soon after, called up Smouch. Having informed him that
the capture was made, and that he was to wait for the prisoner until he
should have finished dressing, Namby then swaggered out, and drove away.
Smouch, requesting Mr. Pickwick in a surly manner 'to be as alive as
he could, for it was a busy time,' drew up a chair by the door and sat
there, until he had finished dressing. Sam was then despatched for a
hackney-coach, and in it the triumvirate proceeded to Coleman Street. It
was fortunate the distance was short; for Mr. Smouch, besides possessing
no very en