My eldest brother was troubled with that complaint," said Sam; "it may be catching-I used to sleep with him."

This is a curious old house of yours," said the little man, looking round him.

"If you'd sent word you was a coming, we'd ha' had it repaired," replied the imperturbable Sam.

The little man seemed rather baffled by these several repulses, and a short consultation took place between him and the two plump gentlemen. At its conclusion, the little man took a pinch of snuff from an oblong silver box, and was apparently on the point of renewing the conversation, when one of the plump gentlemen, who in addition to a benevolent countenance, possessed a pair of spectacles, and a pair of black gaiters, interfered

"The fact of the matter is," said the benevolent gentleman, "that my friend here (pointing to the other plump gentleman,) will give you half-a-guinea, if you'll answer

one or two

'Now, my dear Sir-my dear Sir," said the little man, "pray allow me--my dear Sir, the very first principle to be observed in these cases, is this; if you place a matter in the hands of a professional man, you must in no way interfere in the progress of the business; you must repose implicit confidence in him. Really, Mr. (he turned to the other plump gentleman, and said)—I forget your friend's name."

"Pickwick," said Mr. Wardle, for it was no other than that jolly personage.

Ah, Pickwick-really Mr. Pickwick, my dear Sir, excuse me I shall be happy to receive any private suggestions of yours, as amicus curiæ, but you must see the impropriety of your interfering with my conduct in this case, with such an ad captandum argument, as the offer of half-a-guinea. Really, my dear Sir, really," and the little man took an argumentative pinch of snuff, and looked very profound.

"My only wish, Sir," said Mr. Pickwick, "was to bring this very unpleasant matter to as speedy a close as possible.'

Quite right-quite right," said the little man.

"With which view," continued Mr. Pickwick, "I made use of the argument which my experience of men has taught me is the most likely to succeed in any case."

Ay, ay," said the little man, "very good, very good, indeed; but you should have suggested it to me. My dear Sir, I'm quite certain you cannot be ignorant of the

extent of confidence which must be placed in professional men. If any authority can be necessary on such a point, my dear Sir, let me refer you to the well-known case in Barnwell and--"

"Never mind George Barnvell," interrupted Sam, who had remained a wondering listener during this short colloquy; "everybody knows vhat sort of a case his was, tho' it's always been my opinion, mind you, that the young 'ooman deserved scragging a precious sight more than he did. Hows'ever, that's neither here nor there. You want me to accept of half-a-guinea. Werry well, I'm agreeable: I can't say no fairer than that, can I, Sir? (Mr. Pickwick smiled.) Then the next question is, what the devil do you want with me, as the man said ven he seed the ghost?"

44 'We want to know" said Mr. Wardle.

"Now my dear Sir-my dear Sir," interposed the busy little man.

Mr. Wardle shrugged his shoulders, and was silent.

"We want to know," said the little man, solemnly; "and we ask the question of you, in order that we may not awaken apprehensions inside-we want to know who you've got in this house, at present."

"Who there is in the house!" said Sam, in whose mind the inmates were always represented by that particular article of their costume, which came under his immediate superintendence. "There's a vooden leg in number six, there's a pair of Hessians in thirteen, there's two pair of halves in the commercial, there's these here painted tops in the snuggery inside the bar, and five more tops in the coffee-room."

66

Nothing more?" said the little man.

"Stop a bit," replied Sam, suddenly recollecting himself. Yes; there's a pair of Vellingtons a good deal vorn, and a pair o' lady's shoes, in number five."

"What sort of shoes?" hastily inquired Wardle, who, together with Mr. Pickwick, had been lost in bewilderment at the singular catalogue of visitors.

"Country make," replied Sam.

"Any maker's name?"

"Brown."

"Where of?"

"Muggleton."

"It is them," exclaimed Wardle.

found them."

"By Heavens, we've

"Hush!" said Sam. "The Vellingtons has gone to

Doctors' Commons."

"No," said the little man.

"Yes, for a licence."

'We're in time," exclaimed Wardle. room; not a moment is to be lost."

"Show us the

“Pray, my dear Sir-pray," said the little man; "caution, caution." He drew from his pocket a red silk purse, and looked very hard at Sam as he drew out a sovereign.

Sam grinned expressively.

"Show us into the room at once, without announcing us," said the little man, "and it's yours."

Sam threw the painted tops into a corner, and led the way through a dark passage, and up a wide staircase. He paused at the end of a second passage, and held out his hand.

"Here it is," whispered the attorney, as he deposited the money in the hand of their guide.

The man stepped forward for a few paces, followed by the two friends and their legal adviser. He stopped at a door.

"Is this the room?" murmured the little gentleman. Sam nodded assent.

Old Wardle opened the door; and the whole three walked into the room just as Mr. Jingle, who had that moment returned, had produced the licence to the spinster aunt.

The spinster uttered a loud shriek, and, throwing herself in a chair, covered her face with her hands. Mr. Jingle crumpled up the licence, and thrust it into his coat-pocket. The unwelcome visitors advanced into the middle of the room.

"You-you are a nice rascal, ar'n't you?" exclaimed Wardle, breathless with passion.

"My dear Sir, my dear Sir," said the little man, laying his hat on the table. "Pray, consider-pray. Scandalum magnatum, defamation of character, action for damages. Calm yourself, my dear Sir, pray

"How dare you drag my sister from my house?" said the old man.

"Ay-ay-very good," said the little gentleman, "you may ask that. How dare you, Sir-eh, Sir?"

"Who the devil are you?" inquired Mr. Jingle, in so fierce a tone, that the little gentleman involuntarily fell back a step or two.

"Who is he, you scoundrel?" interposed Wardle. "He's my lawyer, Mr. Perker, of Gray's Inn. Perker, I'll have this fellow prosecuted-indicted-I'll-I'll