Chapter LV

Mr. SOLOMON PELL, ASSISTED BY A SELECT

COMMITTEE OF COACHMEN, ARRANGES THE

AFFAIRS OF THE ELDER Mr. WELLER

amivel,’ said Mr. Weller, accosting his son on the

morning after the funeral, ‘I’ve found it, Sammy. I

thought it wos there.’

‘Thought wot wos there?’ inquired Sam.

‘Your mother-in-law’s vill, Sammy,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘In

wirtue o’ vich, them arrangements is to be made as I told you on,

last night, respectin’ the funs.’

‘Wot, didn’t she tell you were it wos?’ inquired Sam.

‘Not a bit on it, Sammy,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘We wos a adjestin’

our little differences, and I wos a-cheerin’ her spirits and bearin’

her up, so that I forgot to ask anythin’ about it. I don’t know as I

should ha’ done it, indeed, if I had remembered it,’ added Mr.

Weller, ‘for it’s a rum sort o’ thing, Sammy, to go a-hankerin’ arter

anybody’s property, ven you’re assistin’ ’em in illness. It’s like

helping an outside passenger up, ven he’s been pitched off a

coach, and puttin’ your hand in his pocket, vile you ask him, vith a

sigh, how he finds his-self, Sammy.’

With this figurative illustration of his meaning, Mr. Weller

unclasped his pocket-book, and drew forth a dirty sheet of letter-

paper, on which were inscribed various characters crowded

together in remarkable confusion.

‘This here is the dockyment, Sammy,’ said Mr. Weller. ‘I found

it in the little black tea-pot, on the top shelf o’ the bar closet. She

used to keep bank-notes there, ’fore she vos married, Samivel. I’ve

seen her take the lid off, to pay a bill, many and many a time. Poor

creetur, she might ha’filled all the tea-pots in the house vith vills,

and not have inconwenienced herself neither, for she took wery

little of anythin’ in that vay lately, ’cept on the temperance nights,

ven they just laid a foundation o’ tea to put the spirits atop on!’

‘What does it say?’ inquired Sam.

‘Jist vot I told you, my boy,’ rejoined his parent. ‘Two hundred

pound vurth o’ reduced counsels to my son-in-law, Samivel, and

all the rest o’ my property, of ev’ry kind and description votsoever,

to my husband, Mr. Tony Veller, who I appint as my sole

eggzekiter.’

‘That’s all, is it?’ said Sam.

‘That’s all,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘And I s’pose as it’s all right and

satisfactory to you and me as is the only parties interested, ve may

as vell put this bit o’ paper into the fire.’

‘Wot are you a-doin’ on, you lunatic?’ said Sam, snatching the

paper away, as his parent, in all innocence, stirred the fire

preparatory to suiting the action to the word. ‘You’re a nice

eggzekiter, you are.’

‘Vy not?’ inquired Mr. Weller, looking sternly round, with the

poker in his hand.

‘Vy not?’ exclaimed Sam.’’Cos it must be proved, and probated,

and swore to, and all manner o’ formalities.’

‘You don’t mean that?’ said Mr. Weller, laying down the poker.

Sam buttoned the will carefully in a side pocket; intimating by a

look, meanwhile, that he did mean it, and very seriously too.

‘Then I’ll tell you wot it is,’ said Mr. Weller, after a short

meditation, ‘this is a case for that ’ere confidential pal o’ the

Chancellorship’s. Pell must look into this, Sammy. He’s the man

for a difficult question at law. Ve’ll have this here brought afore

the Solvent Court, directly, Samivel.’

‘I never did see such a addle-headed old creetur!’ exclaimed

Sam irritably; ‘Old Baileys, and Solvent Courts, and alleybis, and

ev’ry species o’ gammon alvays a-runnin’ through his brain. You’d

better get your out o’ door clothes on, and come to town about this

bisness, than stand a-preachin’ there about wot you don’t

understand nothin’ on.’

‘Wery good, Sammy,’ replied Mr. Weller, ‘I’m quite agreeable to

anythin’ as vill hexpedite business, Sammy. But mind this here,

my boy, nobody but Pell―nobody but Pell as a legal adwiser.’

‘I don’t want anybody else,’ replied Sam. ‘Now, are you a-

comin’?’

‘Vait a minit, Sammy,’ replied Mr. Weller, who, having tied his

shawl with the aid of a small glass that hung in the window, was

now, by dint of the most wonderful exertions, struggling into his

upper garments. ‘Vait a minit’ Sammy; ven you grow as old as

your father, you von’t get into your veskit quite as easy as you do

now, my boy.’

‘If I couldn’t get into it easier than that, I’m blessed if I’d vear

vun at all,’ rejoined his son.

‘You think so now,’ said Mr. Weller, with the gravity of age, ‘but

you’ll find that as you get vider, you’ll get viser. Vidth and visdom,

Sammy, alvays grows together.’

As Mr. Weller delivered this infallible maxim―the result of

many years’ personal experience and observation―he contrived,

by a dexterous twist of his body, to get the bottom button of his

coat to perform its office. Having paused a few seconds to recover

breath, he brushed his hat with his elbow, and declared himself

ready.

‘As four heads is better than two, Sammy,’ said Mr. Weller, as

they drove along the London Road in the chaise-cart, ‘and as all

this here property is a wery great temptation to a legal gen’l’m’n,

ve’ll take a couple o’ friends o’ mine vith us, as’ll be wery soon

down upon him if he comes anythin’ irreg’lar; two o’ them as saw

you to the Fleet that day. They’re the wery best judges,’ added Mr.

Weller, in a half-whisper―‘the wery best judges of a horse, you

ever know’d.’

‘And of a lawyer too?’ inquired Sam.

‘The man as can form a ackerate judgment of a animal, can

form a ackerate judgment of anythin’,’ replied his father, so

dogmatically, that Sam did not attempt to controvert the position.

In pursuance of this notable resolution, the services of the

mottled-faced gentleman and of two other very fat coachmen―

selected by Mr. Weller, probably, with a view to their width and

consequent wisdom―were put into requisition; and this assistance

having been secured, the party proceeded to the public-house in

Portugal Street, whence a messenger was despatched to the

Insolvent Court over the way, requiring Mr. Solomon Pell’s

immediate attendance.

The messenger fortunately found Mr. Solomon Pell in court,

regaling himself, business being rather slack, with a cold collation

of an Abernethy biscuit and a saveloy. The message was no sooner

whispered in his ear than he thrust them in his pocket among

various professional documents, and hurried over the way with

such alacrity that he reached the parlour before the messenger

had even emancipated himself from the court.

‘Gentlemen,’ said Mr. Pell, touching his hat, ‘my service to you

all. I don’t say it to flatter you, gentlemen, but there are not five

other men in the world, that I’d have come out of that court for, to-

day.’

‘So busy, eh?’ said Sam.

‘Busy!’ replied Pell; ‘I’m completely sewn up, as my friend the

late Lord Chancellor many a time used to say to me, gentlemen,

when he came out from hearing appeals in the House of Lords.

Poor fellow; he was very susceptible to fatigue; he used to feel

those appeals uncommonly. I actually thought more than once

that he’d have sunk under ‘em; I did, indeed.’

Here Mr. Pell shook his head and paused; on which, the elder

Mr. Weller, nudging his neighbour, as begging him to mark the

attorney’s high connections, asked whether the duties in question

produced any permanent ill effects on the constitution of his noble

friend.

‘I don’t think he ever quite recovered them,’ replied Pell; ‘in

fact I’m sure he never did. “Pell,” he used to say to me many a

time, “how the blazes you can stand the head-work you do, is a

mystery to me.”―“Well,” I used to answer, “I hardly know how I

do it, upon my life.”―“Pell,” he’d add, sighing, and looking at me

with a little envy―friendly envy, you know, gentlemen, mere

friendly envy; I never minded it―“Pell, you’re a wonder; a

wonder.” Ah! you’d have liked him very much if you had known

him, gentlemen. Bring me three-penn’orth of rum, my dear.’

Addressing this latter remark to the waitress, in a tone of

subdued grief, Mr. Pell sighed, looked at his shoes and the ceiling;

and, the rum having by that time arrived, drank it up.

‘However,’ said Pell, drawing a chair to the table, ‘a professional

man has no right to think of his private friendships when his legal

assistance is wanted. By the bye, gentlemen, since I saw you here

before, we have had to weep over a very melancholy occurrence.’

Mr. Pell drew out a pocket-handkerchief, when he came to the

word weep, but he made no further use of it than to wipe away a

slight tinge of rum which hung upon his upper lip.

‘I saw it in the Advertiser, Mr. Weller,’ continued Pell. ‘Bless my

soul, not more than fifty-two! Dear me―only think.’

These indications of a musing spirit were addressed to the

mottled-faced man, whose eyes Mr. Pell had accidentally caught;

on which, the mottled-faced man, whose apprehension of matters

in general was of a foggy nature, moved uneasily in his seat, and

opined that, indeed, so far as that went, there was no saying how

things was brought about; which observation, involving one of

those subtle propositions which it is difficult to encounter in

argument, was controverted by nobody.

‘I have heard it remarked that she was a very fine woman, Mr.

Weller,’ said Pell, in a sympathising manner.

‘Yes, sir, she wos,’ replied the elder Mr. Weller, not much

relishing this mode of discussing the subject, and yet thinking that

the attorney, from his long intimacy with the late Lord Chancellor,

must know best on all matters of polite breeding. ‘She wos a wery

fine ’ooman, sir, ven I first know’d her. She wos a widder, sir, at

that time.’

‘Now, it’s curious,’ said Pell, looking round with a sorrowful

smile; ‘Mrs. Pell was a widow.’

‘That’s very extraordinary,’ said the mottled-faced man.

‘Well, it is a curious coincidence,’ said Pell.

‘Not at all,’ gruffly remarked the elder Mr. Weller. ‘More

widders is married than single wimin.’

‘Very good, very good,’ said Pell, ‘you’re quite right, Mr. Weller.

Mrs. Pell was a very elegant and accomplished woman; her

manners were the theme of universal admiration in our

neighbourhood. I was proud to see that woman dance; there was

something so firm and dignified, and yet natural, in her motion.

Her cutting, gentlemen, was simplicity itself. Ah! well, well!

Excuse my asking the question, Mr. Samuel,’ continued the

attorney in a lower voice, ‘was your mother-in-law tall?’

‘Not wery,’ replied Sam.

‘Mrs. Pell was a tall figure,’ said Pell, ‘a splendid woman, with a

noble shape, and a nose, gentlemen, formed to command and be

majestic. She was very much attached to me―very much―highly

connected, too. Her mother’s brother, gentlemen, failed for eight

hundred pounds, as a law stationer.’

‘Vell,’ said Mr. Weller, who had grown rather restless during

this discussion, ‘vith regard to bis’ness.’

The word was music to Pell’s ears. He had been revolving in his

mind whether any business was to be transacted, or whether he

had been merely invited to partake of a glass of brandy-and-water,

or a bowl of punch, or any similar professional compliment, and

now the doubt was set at rest without his appearing at all eager for

its solution. His eyes glistened as he laid his hat on the table, and

said―

‘What is the business upon which―um? Either of these

gentlemen wish to go through the court? We require an arrest; a

friendly arrest will do, you know; we are all friends here, I

suppose?’

‘Give me the dockyment, Sammy,’ said Mr. Weller, taking the

will from his son, who appeared to enjoy the interview amazingly.

‘Wot we rekvire, sir, is a probe o’ this here.’

‘Probate, my dear sir, probate,’ said Pell.

‘Well, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller sharply, ‘probe and probe it, is

wery much the same; if you don’t understand wot I mean, sir, I

des-say I can find them as does.’

‘No offence, I hope, Mr. Weller,’ said Pell meekly. ‘You are the

executor, I see,’ he added, casting his eyes over the paper.

‘I am, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.

‘These other gentlemen, I presume, are legatees, are they?’

inquired Pell, with a congratulatory smile.

‘Sammy is a leg-at-ease,’ replied Mr. Weller; ‘these other

gen’l’m’n is friends o’ mine, just come to see fair; a kind of

umpires.’

‘Oh!’ said Pell, ‘very good. I have no objections, I’m sure. I shall

want a matter of five pound of you before I begin, ha! ha! ha!’

It being decided by the committee that the five pound might be

advanced, Mr. Weller produced that sum; after which, a long

consultation about nothing particular took place, in the course

whereof Mr. Pell demonstrated to the perfect satisfaction of the

gentlemen who saw fair, that unless the management of the

business had been intrusted to him, it must all have gone wrong,

for reasons not clearly made out, but no doubt sufficient. This

important point being despatched, Mr. Pell refreshed himself with

three chops, and liquids both malt and spirituous, at the expense

of the estate; and then they all went away to Doctors’ Commons.

The next day there was another visit to Doctors’ Commons, and

a great to-do with an attesting hostler, who, being inebriated,

declined swearing anything but profane oaths, to the great scandal

of a proctor and surrogate. Next week, there were more visits to

Doctors’ Commons, and there was a visit to the Legacy Duty Office

besides, and there were treaties entered into, for the disposal of

the lease and business, and ratifications of the same, and

inventories to be made out, and lunches to be taken, and dinners

to be eaten, and so many profitable things to be done, and such a

mass of papers accumulated that Mr. Solomon Pell, and the boy,

and the blue bag to boot, all got so stout that scarcely anybody

would have known them for the same man, boy, and bag, that had

loitered about Portugal Street, a few days before.

At length all these weighty matters being arranged, a day was

fixed for selling out and transferring the stock, and of waiting with

that view upon Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, stock-broker, of

somewhere near the bank, who had been recommended by Mr.

Solomon Pell for the purpose.

It was a kind of festive occasion, and the parties were attired

accordingly. Mr. Weller’s tops were newly cleaned, and his dress

was arranged with peculiar care; the mottled-faced gentleman

wore at his button-hole a full-sized dahlia with several leaves; and

the coats of his two friends were adorned with nosegays of laurel

and other evergreens. All three were habited in strict holiday

costume; that is to say, they were wrapped up to the chins, and

wore as many clothes as possible, which is, and has been, a stage-

coachman’s idea of full dress ever since stage-coaches were

invented.

Mr. Pell was waiting at the usual place of meeting at the

appointed time; even he wore a pair of gloves and a clean shirt,

much frayed at the collar and wristbands by frequent washings.

‘A quarter to two,’ said Pell, looking at the parlour clock. ‘If we

are with Mr. Flasher at a quarter past, we shall just hit the best

time.’

‘What should you say to a drop o’ beer, gen’l’m’n?’ suggested

the mottled-faced man. ‘And a little bit o’ cold beef,’ said the

second coachman.

‘Or a oyster,’ added the third, who was a hoarse gentleman,

supported by very round legs.

‘Hear, hear!’ said Pell; ‘to congratulate Mr. Weller, on his

coming into possession of his property, eh? Ha! ha!’

‘I’m quite agreeable, gen’l’m’n,’ answered Mr. Weller. ‘Sammy,

pull the bell.’

Sammy complied; and the porter, cold beef, and oysters being

promptly produced, the lunch was done ample justice to. Where

everybody took so active a part, it is almost invidious to make a

distinction; but if one individual evinced greater powers than

another, it was the coachman with the hoarse voice, who took an

imperial pint of vinegar with his oysters, without betraying the

least emotion.

‘Mr. Pell, sir,’ said the elder Mr. Weller, stirring a glass of

brandy-and-water, of which one was placed before every

gentleman when the oyster shells were removed―‘Mr. Pell, sir, it

wos my intention to have proposed the funs on this occasion, but

Samivel has vispered to me―’

Here Mr. Samuel Weller, who had silently eaten his oysters

with tranquil smiles, cried, ‘Hear!’ in a very loud voice.

‘―Has vispered to me,’ resumed his father, ‘that it vould be

better to dewote the liquor to vishin’ you success and prosperity,

and thankin’ you for the manner in which you’ve brought this here

business through. Here’s your health, sir.’

‘Hold hard there,’ interposed the mottled-faced gentleman, with

sudden energy; ‘your eyes on me, gen’l’m’n!’

Saying this, the mottled-faced gentleman rose, as did the other

gentlemen. The mottled-faced gentleman reviewed the company,

and slowly lifted his hand, upon which every man (including him

of the mottled countenance) drew a long breath, and lifted his

tumbler to his lips. In one instant, the mottled-faced gentleman

depressed his hand again, and every glass was set down empty. It

is impossible to describe the thrilling effect produced by this

striking ceremony. At once dignified, solemn, and impressive, it

combined every element of grandeur.

‘Well, gentlemen,’ said Mr. Pell, ‘all I can say is, that such marks

of confidence must be very gratifying to a professional man. I don’t

wish to say anything that might appear egotistical, gentlemen, but

I’m very glad, for your own sakes, that you came to me; that’s all. If

you had gone to any low member of the profession, it’s my firm

conviction, and I assure you of it as a fact, that you would have

found yourselves in Queer Street before this. I could have wished

my noble friend had been alive to have seen my management of

this case. I don’t say it out of pride, but I think―However,

gentlemen, I won’t trouble you with that. I’m generally to be found

here, gentlemen, but if I’m not here, or over the way, that’s my

address. You’ll find my terms very cheap and reasonable, and no

man attends more to his clients than I do, and I hope I know a

little of my profession besides. If you have any opportunity of

recommending me to any of your friends, gentlemen, I shall be

very much obliged to you, and so will they too, when they come to

know me. Your healths, gentlemen.’

With this expression of his feelings, Mr. Solomon Pell laid three

small written cards before Mr. Weller’s friends, and, looking at the

clock again, feared it was time to be walking. Upon this hint Mr.

Weller settled the bill, and, issuing forth, the executor, legatee,

attorney, and umpires, directed their steps towards the city.

The office of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, of the Stock Exchange,

was in a first floor up a court behind the Bank of England; the

house of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was at Brixton, Surrey; the

horse and stanhope of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, were at an

adjacent livery stable; the groom of Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was

on his way to the West End to deliver some game; the clerk of

Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, had gone to his dinner; and so Wilkins

Flasher, Esquire, himself, cried, ‘Come in,’ when Mr. Pell and his

companions knocked at the counting-house door.

‘Good-morning, sir,’ said Pell, bowing obsequiously. ‘We want

to make a little transfer, if you please.’

‘Oh, just come in, will you?’ said Mr. Flasher. ‘Sit down a

minute; I’ll attend to you directly.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Pell, ‘there’s no hurry. Take a chair, Mr.

Weller.’

Mr. Weller took a chair, and Sam took a box, and the umpires

took what they could get, and looked at the almanac and one or two papers which were wafered against the wall, with as much

open-eyed reverence as if they had been the finest efforts of the

old masters.

‘Well, I’ll bet you half a dozen of claret on it; come!’ said Wilkins

Flasher, Esquire, resuming the conversation to which Mr. Pell’s

entrance had caused a momentary interruption.

This was addressed to a very smart young gentleman who wore

his hat on his right whisker, and was lounging over the desk,

killing flies with a ruler. Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was balancing

himself on two legs of an office stool, spearing a wafer-box with a

penknife, which he dropped every now and then with great

dexterity into the very centre of a small red wafer that was stuck

outside. Both gentlemen had very open waistcoats and very rolling

collars, and very small boots, and very big rings, and very little

watches, and very large guard-chains, and symmetrical

inexpressibles, and scented pocket-handkerchiefs.

‘I never bet half a dozen!’ said the other gentleman. ‘I’ll take a

dozen.’

‘Done, Simmery, done!’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.

‘P. P., mind,’ observed the other.

‘Of course,’ replied Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. Wilkins Flasher,

Esquire, entered it in a little book, with a gold pencil-case, and the

other gentleman entered it also, in another little book with

another gold pencil-case.

‘I see there’s a notice up this morning about Boffer,’ observed

Mr. Simmery. ‘Poor devil, he’s expelled the house!’

‘I’ll bet you ten guineas to five, he cuts his throat,’ said Wilkins

Flasher, Esquire.

‘Done,’ replied Mr. Simmery.

‘Stop! I bar,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, thoughtfully.

‘Perhaps he may hang himself.’

‘Very good,’ rejoined Mr. Simmery, pulling out the gold pencil-

case again. ‘I’ve no objection to take you that way. Say, makes

away with himself.’

‘Kills himself, in fact,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.

‘Just so,’ replied Mr. Simmery, putting it down. ‘“Flasher―ten

guineas to five, Boffer kills himself.” Within what time shall we

say?’

‘A fortnight?’ suggested Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.

‘Con-found it, no,’ rejoined Mr. Simmery, stopping for an

instant to smash a fly with the ruler. ‘Say a week.’

‘Split the difference,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. ‘Make it ten

days.’

‘Well; ten days,’ rejoined Mr. Simmery.

So it was entered down on the little books that Boffer was to kill

himself within ten days, or Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, was to hand

over to Frank Simmery, Esquire, the sum of ten guineas; and that

if Boffer did kill himself within that time, Frank Simmery,

Esquire, would pay to Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, five guineas,

instead.

‘I’m very sorry he has failed,’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire.

‘Capital dinners he gave.’

‘Fine port he had too,’ remarked Mr. Simmery. ‘We are going to

send our butler to the sale to-morrow, to pick up some of that

sixty-four.’

‘The devil you are!’ said Wilkins Flasher, Esquire. ‘My man’s

going too. Five guineas my man outbids your man.’

‘Done.’

Another entry was made in the little books, with the gold

pencil-cases; and Mr. Simmery, having by this time killed all the

flies and taken all the bets, strolled away to the Stock Exchange to

see what was going forward.

Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, now condescended to receive Mr.

Solomon Pell’s instructions, and having filled up some printed

forms, requested the party to follow him to the bank, which they

did: Mr. Weller and his three friends staring at all they beheld in

unbounded astonishment, and Sam encountering everything with

a coolness which nothing could disturb.

Crossing a courtyard which was all noise and bustle, and

passing a couple of porters who seemed dressed to match the red

fire engine which was wheeled away into a corner, they passed

into an office where their business was to be transacted, and

where Pell and Mr. Flasher left them standing for a few moments,

while they went upstairs into the Will Office.

‘Wot place is this here?’ whispered the mottled-faced

gentleman to the elder Mr. Weller.

‘Counsel’s Office,’ replied the executor in a whisper.

‘Wot are them gen’l’men a-settin’ behind the counters?’ asked

the hoarse coachman.

‘Reduced counsels, I s’pose,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘Ain’t they the

reduced counsels, Samivel?’

‘Wy, you don’t suppose the reduced counsels is alive, do you?’

inquired Sam, with some disdain. ‘How should I know?’ retorted

Mr. We ller; ‘I thought they looked wery like it. Wot are they,

then?’

‘Clerks,’ replied Sam.

‘Wot are they all a-eatin’ ham sangwidges for?’ inquired his

father.

‘’Cos it’s in their dooty, I suppose,’ replied Sam, ‘it’s a part o’

the system; they’re alvays a-doin’ it here, all day long!’ Mr. Weller

and his friends had scarcely had a moment to reflect upon this

singular regulation as connected with the monetary system of the

country, when they were rejoined by Pell and Wilkins Flasher,

Esquire, who led them to a part of the counter above which was a

round blackboard with a large ‘W.’ on it.

‘Wot’s that for, sir?’ inquired Mr. Weller, directing Pell’s

attention to the target in question.

‘The first letter of the name of the deceased,’ replied Pell.

‘I say,’ said Mr. Weller, turning round to the umpires, there’s

somethin’ wrong here. We’s our letter―this won’t do.’

The referees at once gave it as their decided opinion that the

business could not be legally proceeded with, under the letter W.,

and in all probability it would have stood over for one day at least,

had it not been for the prompt, though, at first sight, undutiful

behaviour of Sam, who, seizing his father by the skirt of the coat,

dragged him to the counter, and pinned him there, until he had

affixed his signature to a couple of instruments; which, from Mr.

Weller’s habit of printing, was a work of so much labour and time,

that the officiating clerk peeled and ate three Ribstone pippins

while it was performing.

As the elder Mr. Weller insisted on selling out his portion

forthwith, they proceeded from the bank to the gate of the Stock

Exchange, to which Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, after a short

absence, returned with a cheque on Smith, Payne, & Smith, for

five hundred and thirty pounds; that being the money to which

Mr. Weller, at the market price of the day, was entitled, in

consideration of the balance of the second Mrs. Weller’s funded

savings. Sam’s two hundred pounds stood transferred to his name,

and Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, having been paid his commission,

dropped the money carelessly into his coat pocket, and lounged

back to his office.

Mr. Weller was at first obstinately determined on cashing the

cheque in nothing but sovereigns; but it being represented by the

umpires that by so doing he must incur the expense of a small

sack to carry them home in, he consented to receive the amount in

five-pound notes.

‘My son,’ said Mr. Weller, as they came out of the banking-

house―‘my son and me has a wery partickler engagement this

arternoon, and I should like to have this here bis’ness settled out

of hand, so let’s jest go straight avay someveres, vere ve can hordit

the accounts.’

A quiet room was soon found, and the accounts were produced

and audited. Mr. Pell’s bill was taxed by Sam, and some charges

were disallowed by the umpires; but, notwithstanding Mr. Pell’s

declaration, accompanied with many solemn asseverations that

they were really too hard upon him, it was by very many degrees

the best professional job he had ever had, and one on which he

boarded, lodged, and washed, for six months afterwards.

The umpires having partaken of a dram, shook hands and

departed, as they had to drive out of town that night. Mr. Solomon

Pell, finding that nothing more was going forward, either in the

eating or drinking way, took a friendly leave, and Sam and his

father were left alone.

‘There!’ said Mr. Weller, thrusting his pocket-book in his side

pocket. ‘Vith the bills for the lease, and that, there’s eleven

hundred and eighty pound here. Now, Samivel, my boy, turn the

horses’ heads to the George and Wulter!’

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