'You're a sharp boy, you are,' said Mr.Weller; 'only I wouldn't show that wery fine edge too much, if I was you, in case anybody took it off.

What do you mean by comin' to a hot-el, and asking arter Sam, vith as much politeness as a vild Indian ?' ''Cos an old gen'l'm'n told me to,' replied the boy.
'What old gen'l'm'n ?' inquired Sam, with deep disdain.
'Him as drives a Ipswich coach, and uses our parlour,' rejoined the boy.

'He told me yesterday mornin' to come to the George and Wultur this arternoon, and ask for Sam.' 'It's my father, my dear,' said Mr.Weller, turning with an explanatory air to the young lady in the bar; 'blessed if I think he hardly knows wot my other name is.

Well, young brockiley sprout, wot then ?' 'Why then,' said the boy, 'you was to come to him at six o'clock to our 'ouse, 'cos he wants to see you--Blue Boar, Leaden'all Markit.

Shall I say you're comin' ?' 'You may wenture on that 'ere statement, Sir,' replied Sam.