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Dickens, Charles

"The Pickwick Papers"

It's the only way
to make a boy sharp, sir.'
'Rather a dangerous process, I should imagine,' said Mr.
Pickwick, with a smile.
'And not a wery sure one, neither,' added Mr. Weller; 'I got
reg'larly done the other day.'
'No!' said his father.
'I did,' said the son; and he proceeded to relate, in as few
words as possible, how he had fallen a ready dupe to the stratagems
of Job Trotter.
Mr. Weller, senior, listened to the tale with the most profound
attention, and, at its termination, said--
'Worn't one o' these chaps slim and tall, with long hair, and
the gift o' the gab wery gallopin'?'
Mr. Pickwick did not quite understand the last item of description,
but, comprehending the first, said 'Yes,' at a venture.
'T' other's a black-haired chap in mulberry livery, with a wery
large head?'
'Yes, yes, he is,' said Mr. Pickwick and Sam, with great earnestness.
'Then I know where they are, and that's all about it,' said
Mr. Weller; 'they're at Ipswich, safe enough, them two.'
'No!' said Mr. Pickwick.
'Fact,' said Mr. Weller, 'and I'll tell you how I know it. I work
an Ipswich coach now and then for a friend o' mine. I worked
down the wery day arter the night as you caught the rheumatic,
and at the Black Boy at Chelmsford--the wery place they'd
come to--I took 'em up, right through to Ipswich, where the
man-servant--him in the mulberries--told me they was a-goin'
to put up for a long time.


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