'I wish them horses had been three months and better in the
Fleet, Sir.'
'Why, Sam?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.
'Wy, Sir,' exclaimed Mr. Weller, rubbing his hands, 'how they
would go if they had been!'
CHAPTER XLVIII
RELATES HOW Mr. PICKWICK, WITH THE ASSISTANCE
OF SAMUEL WELLER, ESSAYED TO SOFTEN THE HEART
OF Mr. BENJAMIN ALLEN, AND TO MOLLIFY THE WRATH
OF Mr. ROBERT SAWYER
Mr. Ben Allen and Mr. Bob Sawyer sat together in the little
surgery behind the shop, discussing minced veal and future
prospects, when the discourse, not unnaturally, turned upon
the practice acquired by Bob the aforesaid, and his present chances
of deriving a competent independence from the honourable
profession to which he had devoted himself.
'Which, I think,' observed Mr. Bob Sawyer, pursuing the
thread of the subject--'which, I think, Ben, are rather dubious.'
'What's rather dubious?' inquired Mr. Ben Allen, at the same
time sharpening his intellect with a draught of beer. 'What's dubious?'
'Why, the chances,' responded Mr. Bob Sawyer.
'I forgot,' said Mr. Ben Allen. 'The beer has reminded me that
I forgot, Bob--yes; they ARE dubious.'
'It's wonderful how the poor people patronise me,' said Mr.
Pages:
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198