ht ha' been, the little, old gen'l'm'n,
who had been remarkably partial to sassages all his life, rushed out o'
the shop in a wild state, and was never heerd on arterwards!'

The relation of this affecting incident of private life brought master
and man to Mr. Perker's chambers. Lowten, holding the door half open,
was in conversation with a rustily-clad, miserable-looking man, in boots
without toes and gloves without fingers. There were traces of privation
and suffering--almost of despair--in his lank and care-worn countenance;
he felt his poverty, for he shrank to the dark side of the staircase as
Mr. Pickwick approached.

'It's very unfortunate,' said the stranger, with a sigh.

'Very,' said Lowten, scribbling his name on the doorpost with his pen,
and rubbing it out again with the feather. 'Will you leave a message for
him?'

'When do you think he'll be back?' inquired the stranger.

'Quite uncertain,' replied Lowten, winking at Mr. Pickwick, as the
stranger cast his eyes towards the ground.

'You don't think it would be of any use my waiting for him?' said the
stranger, looking wistfully into the office.

'Oh, no, I'm sure it wouldn't,' replied the clerk, moving a little more
into the centre of the doorway. 'He's certain not to be back this week,
and it's a chance whether he will be next; for when Perker once gets out
of town, he's never in a hurry to come back again.'

'Out of town!' said Mr. Pickwick; 'dear me, how unfortunate!'

'Don't go away, Mr. Pickwick,' said Lowten, 'I've got a letter for you.'
The stranger, seeming to hesitate, once more looked towards the ground,
and the clerk winked slyly at Mr. PickwiCK, as if to intimate that some
exquisite piece of humour was going forward, though what it was Mr.
Pickwick could not for the life of him divine. 'Step in, Mr. Pickwick,'
said Lowten. 'Well, will you leave a message, Mr. Watty, or will you
call again?'

'Ask him to be so kind as to leave out word what has been done in my
business,' said the man; 'for God's sake don't neglect it, Mr. Lowten.'

'No, no; I won't forget it,' replied the clerk. 'Walk in, Mr. Pickwick.
Good-morning, Mr. Watty; it's a fine day for walking, isn't it?' Seeing
that the stranger still lingered, he beckoned Sam Weller to follow his
master in, and shut the door in his face.

'There never was such a pestering bankrupt as that since the world
began, I do believe!' said Lowten, throwing down his pen with the air of
an injure