which the readers of this
authentic narrative know, as well as we do, to have been the day
immediately preceding that which was appointed for the trial of Mrs.
Bardell's action, was a busy time for Mr. Samuel Weller, who was
perpetually engaged in travelling from the George and Vulture to Mr.
Perker's chambers and back again, from and between the hours of nine
o'clock in the morning and two in the afternoon, both inclusive. Not
that there was anything whatever to be done, for the consultation
had taken place, and the course of proceeding to be adopted, had been
finally determined on; but Mr. Pickwick being in a most extreme state
of excitement, persevered in constantly sending small notes to his
attorney, merely containing the inquiry, 'Dear Perker. Is all going
on well?' to which Mr. Perker invariably forwarded the reply, 'Dear
Pickwick. As well as possible'; the fact being, as we have already
hinted, that there was nothing whatever to go on, either well or ill,
until the sitting of the court on the following morning.

But people who go voluntarily to law, or are taken forcibly there, for
the first time, may be allowed to labour under some temporary irritation
and anxiety; and Sam, with a due allowance for the frailties of
human nature, obeyed all his master's behests with that imperturbable
good-humour and unruffable composure which formed one of his most
striking and amiable characteristics.

Sam had solaced himself with a most agreeable little dinner, and was
waiting at the bar for the glass of warm mixture in which Mr. Pickwick
had requested him to drown the fatigues of his morning's walks, when a
young boy of about three feet high, or thereabouts, in a hairy cap and
fustian overalls, whose garb bespoke a laudable ambition to attain in
time the elevation of an hostler, entered the passage of the George and
Vulture, and looked first up the stairs, and then along the passage,
and then into the bar, as if in search of somebody to whom he bore a
commission; whereupon the barmaid, conceiving it not improbable that
the said commission might be directed to the tea or table spoons of the
establishment, accosted the boy with--

'Now, young man, what do you want?'

'Is there anybody here, named Sam?' inquired the youth, in a loud voice
of treble quality.

'What's the t'other name?' said Sam Weller, looking round.

'How should I know?' briskly replied the young gentleman below the hairy
cap. 'You're a sharp boy, you a