SAMUEL WELLER
When Mr. Pickwick opened his eyes next morning, the first object
upon which they rested was Samuel Weller, seated upon a small
black portmanteau, intently regarding, apparently in a condition
of profound abstraction, the stately figure of the dashing Mr.
Smangle; while Mr. Smangle himself, who was already partially
dressed, was seated on his bedstead, occupied in the desperately
hopeless attempt of staring Mr. Weller out of countenance. We
say desperately hopeless, because Sam, with a comprehensive gaze
which took in Mr. Smangle's cap, feet, head, face, legs, and
whiskers, all at the same time, continued to look steadily on,
with every demonstration of lively satisfaction, but with no
more regard to Mr. Smangle's personal sentiments on the subject
than he would have displayed had he been inspecting a wooden
statue, or a straw-embowelled Guy Fawkes.
'Well; will you know me again?' said Mr. Smangle, with a frown.
'I'd svear to you anyveres, Sir,' replied Sam cheerfully.
'Don't be impertinent to a gentleman, Sir,' said Mr. Smangle.
'Not on no account,' replied Sam. 'if you'll tell me wen he
wakes, I'll be upon the wery best extra-super behaviour!' This
observation, having a remote tendency to imply that Mr.
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