ntenance of mysterious dread and apprehension.

'Wot's the matter, Sir?' inquired Sam, looking vacantly about him.

'Not a whisper of my name,' replied Pott; 'this is a buff neighbourhood.
If the excited and irritable populace knew I was here, I should be torn
to pieces.'

'No! Vould you, sir?' inquired Sam.

'I should be the victim of their fury,' replied Pott. 'Now young man,
what of your master?'

'He's a-stopping here to-night on his vay to town, with a couple of
friends,' replied Sam.

'Is Mr. Winkle one of them?' inquired Pott, with a slight frown.

'No, Sir. Mr. Vinkle stops at home now,' rejoined Sam. 'He's married.'

'Married!' exclaimed Pott, with frightful vehemence. He stopped, smiled
darkly, and added, in a low, vindictive tone, 'It serves him right!'
Having given vent to this cruel ebullition of deadly malice and
cold-blooded triumph over a fallen enemy, Mr. Pott inquired whether Mr.
Pickwick's friends were 'blue?' Receiving a most satisfactory answer
in the affirmative from Sam, who knew as much about the matter as Pott
himself, he consented to accompany him to Mr. Pickwick's room, where
a hearty welcome awaited him, and an agreement to club their dinners
together was at once made and ratified.

'And how are matters going on in Eatanswill?' inquired Mr. Pickwick,
when Pott had taken a seat near the fire, and the whole party had got
their wet boots off, and dry slippers on. 'Is the INDEPENDENT still in
being?'

'The INDEPENDENT, sir,' replied Pott, 'is still dragging on a wretched
and lingering career. Abhorred and despised by even the few who are
cognisant of its miserable and disgraceful existence, stifled by the
very filth it so profusely scatters, rendered deaf and blind by the
exhalations of its own slime, the obscene journal, happily unconscious
of its degraded state, is rapidly sinking beneath that treacherous
mud which, while it seems to give it a firm standing with the low and
debased classes of society, is nevertheless rising above its detested
head, and will speedily engulf it for ever.'

Having delivered this manifesto (which formed a portion of his last
week's leader) with vehement articulation, the editor paused to take
breath, and looked majestically at Bob Sawyer.

'You are a young man, sir,' said Pott.

Mr. Bob Sawyer nodded.

'So are you, sir,' said Pott, addressing Mr. Ben Allen.

Ben admitted the soft impeachment.

'And are both deeply imbued with those blue principl