waved the other in a condescending manner. "How do you do, sir?"
"Why, reasonably conwalessent," replied Sam. "How do you find yourself, my dear feller?"
"Only so so," said Mr. John Smauker.
"Ah, you've been a workin' too hard," observed Sam. "I was fearful you would; it won't do, you know; you must not give way to that 'ere uncompromisin' spirit o' your'n."
"It's not so much that, Mr. Weller," replied Mr. John Smauker, "as bad wine; I'm afraid I've been dissipating."
"Oh! that's it, is it?" said Sam; "that's a wery bad complaint, that."
"And yet the temptation, you see, Mr. Weller," observed Mr. John Smauker.
"Ah, to be sure," said Sam.
"Plunged into the very vortex of society, you know, Mr. Weller," said Mr. John Smauker with a sigh.
"Dreadful indeed!" rejoined Sam.
"But it's always the way," said Mr. John Smauker; "if your destiny leads you into public life, and public station, you must expect to be subjected to temptations which other people is free from, Mr. Weller."
"Precisely what my uncle said, ven he vent into the public line," remarked Sam, "and wery right the old gen'lm'n wos, for he drank hisself to death in somethin' less than a quarter."
Mr. John Smauker looked deeply indignant at any parallel being drawn between himself and the deceased gentleman in question; but as Sam's face was in the most immoveable state of calmness, he thought better of it, and looked affable again.
"Perhaps we had better be walking," said Mr. Smauker, consulting a copper time-piece which dwelt at the bottom of a deep watch-pocket, and was raised to the surface by means of a black string, with a copper key at the other end.
"P'raps we had," replied Sam, " or they'll overdo the swarry, and that'll spile it."
