The fat boy shook his head.
'Vell,' said Sam, 'I am glad to hear it. Do you ever drink anythin'?'
'I likes eating better,' replied the boy.
'Ah,' said Sam, 'I should ha' s'posed that; but what I mean is,
should you like a drop of anythin' as'd warm you? but I s'pose
you never was cold, with all them elastic fixtures, was you?'
'Sometimes,' replied the boy; 'and I likes a drop of something,
when it's good.'
'Oh, you do, do you?' said Sam, 'come this way, then!'
The Blue Lion tap was soon gained, and the fat boy swallowed
a glass of liquor without so much as winking--a feat which
considerably advanced him in Mr. Weller's good opinion. Mr.
Weller having transacted a similar piece of business on his own
account, they got into the cart.
'Can you drive?' said the fat boy.
'I should rayther think so,' replied Sam.
'There, then,' said the fat boy, putting the reins in his hand,
and pointing up a lane, 'it's as straight as you can go; you can't
miss it.'
With these words, the fat boy laid himself affectionately down
by the side of the cod-fish, and, placing an oyster-barrel under
his head for a pillow, fell asleep instantaneously.
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