each rolled up in a blanket: which occupied one corner of the room during the day, and formed a kind of slab, on which were placed an old cracked basin, ewer, and soap-dish, of common yellow earthenware, with a blue flower: "Very aggravating."
Mr. Martin expressed the same opinion in rather stronger terms; Mr. Simpson, after having let a variety of expletive adjectives loose upon society without any substantive to accompany them, tucked up his sleeves, and began to wash the greens for dinner.
While this was going on, Mr. Pickwick had been eyeing the room, which was filthily dirty, and smelt intolerably close. There was no vestige of either carpet, curtain, or blind. There was not even a closet in it. Unquestionably there were but few things to put away, if there had been one; but, however few in number, or small in individual amount, still, remnants of loaves and pieces of cheese, and damp towels, and scrags of meat, and articles of wearing apparel, and mutilated crockery, and bellows without nozzles, and toasting-forks without prongs, do present somewhat of an uncomfortable appearance when they are scattered about the floor of a small apartment, which is the common sitting and sleeping room of three idle men.
"I suppose this can be managed somehow," said the butcher, after a pretty long silence. "What will you take to go out?"
"I beg your pardon," replied Mr. Pickwick. "What did you say? I hardly understand you."
"What will you take to be paid out?" said the butcher. "The regular chummage is two-and-six. Will you take three bob?"
"—And a bender," suggested the clerical gentleman.
"Well, I don't mind that; it's only twopence a-piece more," said Mr. Martin.
"What do you say, now? We'll pay you out for three-and-sixpence a week, Come!"
