each elbow, "don't hurt me by mentioning that.
May I venture to congratulate you? Would you
do me the favour of stepping into the shop?"

Mr. Trabb's boy was the most audacious
boy in all that country-side. When I had
entered he was sweeping the shop, and he had
sweetened his labours by sweeping over me.
He was still sweeping when I came out into the
shop with Mr. Trabb, and he knocked the
broom against all possible corners and obstacles,
to express (as I understood it) equality with
any blacksmith, alive or dead.

'"Hold that noise," said Mr. Trabb, with
the greatest sternness, "or I'll knock your head
off! Do me the favour to be seated, sir. Now
this," said Mr. Trabb, taking down a roll of
cloth, and tiding it out in a flowing manner over
the counter, preparatory to getting his hand
under it to show the gloss, "is a very sweet
article. I can recommend it for your purpose,
sir, because it really is extra super. But you
shall see some others. Give me Number Four,
you!" (To the boy, and with a dreadfully severe
stare: foreseeing the danger of that miscreant's
brushing me with it, or making some other
sign of familiarity.)

Mr. Trabb never removed his stern eye from
the boy until he had deposited number four on
the counter and was at a safe distance again.
Then, he commanded him to bring number five
and number eight. "And let me have none of
your tricks here," said Mr. Trabb, "or you
shall repent it, you young scoundrel, the longest
day you have to live."

Mr. Trabb then bent over number four, and
in a sort of deferential confidence recommended
it to me as a light article for summer wear, an
article much in vogue among the nobility and
gentry, an article that it would ever be an
honour to him to reflect upon a distinguished
fellow-townsman's (if he might claim me for a
fellow-townsman) having worn. "Are you
bringing numbers five and eight, you vagabond,"
said Mr. Trabb to the boy after that,
"or shall I kick you out of the shop and bring
them myself?"

I selected the materials for a suit, with the
assistance of Mr. Trabb's judgment, and
reentered the parlour to be measured. For,
although Mr. Trabb had my measure already,
and had previously been quite contented with
it, he said apologetically that it "wouldn't do under
existing circumstances, sir— wouldn't do
at all." So, Mr. Trabb measured and calculated
me, in the parlour, as if I were an estate and
he the finest species of surveyor, and gave
himself such a world of trouble that I feit that no
suit of clothes could possibly remunerate him
for his pains. When he had at last done and
had appointed to send the articles to Mr.
Pumblechook's on the Thursday evening, he said,
his hand upon the parlour lock", "I know,
sir, that London gentlemen cannot be expected to
patronise local work, as a rule: but if you would
give me a turn now and then in the quality of a
townsman, I should greatly esteem it. Good
morning, sir; much obliged.— Door!"

The last word was flung at the boy, who had
not the least notion what it meant. But I saw
him collapse as his master rubbed me out with
his hands, and my first decided experience of the
stupendous power of money, was, that it had
morally laid upon his back, Trabb's boy.

After this memorable event, I went to the
hatter's, and the bootmaker's, and the hosier's,
and felt rather like Mother Hubbard's dog
whose outfit required the services of so many
trades. I also went to the coach-office and took
my place for seven o'clock on Saturday morning.
It was not necessary to explain everywhere that
I had come into a handsome property; but whenever
I said anything to that effect, it followed
that the officiating tradesman ceased to have his
attention diverted through the window by the
High-street, and concentrated his mind upon
me. When I had ordered everything I wanted,
I directed my steps towards Pumblechook's,
and, as I approached that gentleman's place of
business, I saw him standing at his door.

He was waiting for me with great impatience.
He had been out early with the chaise-cart, and
had called at the forge and heard the news. He
had prepared a collation for me in the Barnwell
parlour, and he too ordered his shopman to
"come out of the gangway" as my sacred person
passed.

"My dear friend," said Mr. Pumblechook,
taking me by both hands, when he and I and the
collation were alone, "I give you joy of your
good fortune. Well deserved, well deserved!"

This was coming to the point, and I thought
it a sensible way of expressing himself.

"To think," said Mr. Pumblechook, after
snorting admiration at me for some moments,
"that I should have been the humble instrument
of leading up to this, is a proud reward."

I begged Mr. Pumblechook to remember that
nothing was to be ever said or hinted, on that
point.

"My dear young friend," said Mr. Pumblechook,
"if you will allow me to call you so——"

I murmured "Certainly," and Mr. Pumblechook
took me by both hands again, and
communicated a movement to his waistcoat that had
an emotional appearance, though it was rather
low down, "My dear young friend, rely upon
my doing my little all in your absence, by
keeping the fact before the mind of Joseph.—
Joseph!" said Mr. Pumblechook, in the way of a
compassionate adjuration. "Joseph!! Joseph!!!"
Thereupon he shook his head and tapped it,
expressing his sense of deficiency in Joseph.

"But my dear young friend," said Mr.
Pumblechook, "you must be hungry, you must
be exhausted. Be seated. Here is a chicken
had round from the Boar, here is a tongue had
round from the Boar, here's one or two little
things had round from the Boar, that I hope you
may not despise. But do I," said Mr. Pumblechook,
getting up again the moment after he had
sat down, "see afore me, him as I ever sported
with in his times of happy infancy? And may I
— may I—?"

This May I meant, might he shake hands? I