mon humanity had a dickey behind for the fat boy,
who, if there had been a footboard instead, would have rolled off and
killed himself in his very first nap.

Driving to the George and Vulture, they found that Arabella and her maid
had sent for a hackney-coach immediately on the receipt of a short note
from Emily announcing her arrival in town, and had proceeded straight to
the Adelphi. As Wardle had business to transact in the city, they sent
the carriage and the fat boy to his hotel, with the information that he
and Mr. Pickwick would return together to dinner at five o'clock.

Charged with this message, the fat boy returned, slumbering as peaceably
in his dickey, over the stones, as if it had been a down bed on watch
springs. By some extraordinary miracle he awoke of his own accord,
when the coach stopped, and giving himself a good shake to stir up his
faculties, went upstairs to execute his commission.

Now, whether the shake had jumbled the fat boy's faculties together,
instead of arranging them in proper order, or had roused such a quantity
of new ideas within him as to render him oblivious of ordinary forms
and ceremonies, or (which is also possible) had proved unsuccessful
in preventing his falling asleep as he ascended the stairs, it is an
undoubted fact that he walked into the sitting-room without previously
knocking at the door; and so beheld a gentleman with his arms clasping
his young mistress's waist, sitting very lovingly by her side on a sofa,
while Arabella and her pretty handmaid feigned to be absorbed in looking
out of a window at the other end of the room. At the sight of this
phenomenon, the fat boy uttered an interjection, the ladies a scream,
and the gentleman an oath, almost simultaneously.

'Wretched creature, what do you want here?' said the gentleman, who it
is needless to say was Mr. Snodgrass.

To this the fat boy, considerably terrified, briefly responded,
'Missis.'

'What do you want me for,' inquired Emily, turning her head aside, 'you
stupid creature?'

'Master and Mr. Pickwick is a-going to dine here at five,' replied the
fat boy.

'Leave the room!' said Mr. Snodgrass, glaring upon the bewildered youth.

'No, no, no,' added Emily hastily. 'Bella, dear, advise me.'

Upon this, Emily and Mr. Snodgrass, and Arabella and Mary, crowded into
a corner, and conversed earnestly in whispers for some minutes, during
which the fat boy dozed.

'Joe,' said Arabella, at length, looking ro