“Reg’lar game, sir,” replied Mr. Weller; “our people’s a col-lecting down at the Town Arms, and they’re a hollering themselves hoarse already.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Pickwick, “do they seem devoted to their party, Sam?”
“Never see such dewotion in my life, sir.”
“Energetic, eh?” said Mr. Pickwick.
“Uncommon,” replied Sam; “I never see men eat and drink so much afore. I wonder they an’t afeer’d o’ bustin’.”
“That’s the mistaken kindness of the gentry here,” said Mr. Pickwick.
“Wery likely,” replied Sam, briefly.
“Fine, fresh, hearty fellows they seem,” said Mr. Pickwick, glancing from the window.
“Wery fresh,” replied Sam: “me, and the two waiters at the Peacock, has been a pumpin’ over the independent woters as supped there last night.”
“Pumping over independent voters!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.