'There's nothing you want to give out for the man to brush,
my dear creature, is there?' resumed Smangle.
'Nothin' whatever, my fine feller,' rejoined Sam, taking the
reply into his own mouth. 'P'raps if vun of us wos to brush,
without troubling the man, it 'ud be more agreeable for all
parties, as the schoolmaster said when the young gentleman
objected to being flogged by the butler.'
'And there's nothing I can send in my little box to the washer-
woman's, is there?' said Smangle, turning from Sam to Mr.
Pickwick, with an air of some discomfiture.
'Nothin' whatever, Sir,' retorted Sam; 'I'm afeered the little
box must be chock full o' your own as it is.'
This speech was accompanied with such a very expressive look
at that particular portion of Mr. Smangle's attire, by the appearance
of which the skill of laundresses in getting up gentlemen's
linen is generally tested, that he was fain to turn upon his heel,
and, for the present at any rate, to give up all design on Mr.
Pickwick's purse and wardrobe. He accordingly retired in
dudgeon to the racket-ground, where he made a light and whole-
some breakfast on a couple of the cigars which had been purchased
on the previous night.
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