“I don’t know!” replied Mr. Pickwick; while the ever gallant Mr. Tupman led Mrs. Bardell, who said she was better, downstairs.  “I cannot conceive what has been the matter with the woman.  I merely told her of my intention of keeping a manservant, when she fell into an extraordinary paroxysm.  Very remarkable thing.”

“Very,” said his three friends.

“There’s a man in the passage now,” said Mr. Tupman.

“It’s the man I’ve sent for from the Borough,” said Mr. Pickwick.  “Have the goodness to call him up.”

Mr. Samuel Weller forthwith presented himself, having previously deposited his old white hat on the landing outside.

“Ta’nt a wery good ‘un to look at,” said Sam, “but it’s an astonishin’ ’un to wear.  And afore the brim went it was a wery handsome tile.”

“Now, with regard to the matter on which I sent for you,” said Mr. Pickwick.

“That’s the pint, sir; out vith it, as the father said to the child ven he swallowed a farden.”

“We want to know, in the first place,” said Mr. Pickwick, “whether you are discontented with your present situation?”

“Afore I answers that ’ere question,” replied Mr. Weller, “I should like to know whether you’re a-goin’ to purwide me vith a better.”

Mr. Pickwick smiled benevolently as he said:  “I have half made up my mind to engage you myself.”

“Have you though?” said Sam.  “Wages?”

“Twelve pounds a year.”

“Clothes?”

“Two suits.”

“Work?”

“To attend upon me, and travel about with me and these gentlemen here.”

“Take the bill down,” said Sam emphatically.  “I’m let to a single gentleman, and the terms is agreed upon.  If the clothes fit me half as well as the place, they’ll do.”

II.—­Bardell vs.  Pickwick

Acting on the advice of Messrs. Dodson & Fogg, solicitors, Mrs. Bardell brought an action for breach of promise of marriage against Mr. Pickwick, and the damages were laid at L1,500.  February 14 was the day fixed for the memorable trial.

When Mr. Pickwick and his friends reached the court, and the judge—­Mr. Justice Stareleigh—­had taken his place, it was found that only ten of the special jury were present, and a greengrocer and a chemist were caught from the common jury to make up the number.

“I beg this court’s pardon,” said the chemist, “but I hope this court will excuse my attendance.  I have no assistant, and I can’t afford to hire one.”

“Then you ought to be able to afford it,” said the judge, a most particularly short man, and so fat that he seemed all face and waistcoat.

“Very well, my lord,” replied the chemist, “then there’ll be murder before this trial’s over, that’s all.  I’ve left nobody, but an errand-boy in my shop, and I know that he thinks Epsom salts means oxalic acid, and syrup of senna, laudanum; that’s all, my lord.”