At ten o'clock, however, on Friday night, back my master came to his chambers. I saw him as I never saw him before, namly, reglar drunk. He staggered about the room, he danced, he hickipd, he swoar, he flung me a heap of silver, and, finely, he sunk down exosted on his bed; I pullin off his boots and close, and making him comfrabble.
When I had removed his garmints, I did what it's the doty of every servant to do—I emtied his pockits, and looked at his pockit-book and all his letters: a number of axdents have been prevented that way.
I found there, among a heap of things, the following pretty dockyment:
+-------------------------------------------+
| I. O. U. |
| £4700 |
| THOMAS SMITH DAWKINS |
| |
| _Friday,_ |
| _16th January_ |
+-------------------------------------------+
There was another bit of paper of the same kind—"I.O.U. four hundred pounds, Richard Blewitt:" but this, in cors, ment nothink.
Nex mornin, at nine, master was up, and as sober as a judg. He drest, and was off to Mr. Dawkins. At 10 he ordered a cab, and the two genlm went together.
"Where shall he drive, sir?" says I.
"Oh, tell him to drive to the Bank."
Pore Dawkins! his eyes red with remors and sleepliss drankenniss, gave a shudder and a sob, as he sunk back in the wehicle; and they drove on.