On Mr. Pickwick’s presenting himself at the bar, an elderly female emerged from behind the screen therein, and presented herself before him.

“Is Mr. Lowten here, ma’am?” inquired Mr. Pickwick.

“Yes, he is, Sir,” replied the landlady. “Here, Charley, show the gentleman in to Mr. Lowten.”

“The gen’l’m’n can’t go in just now,” said a shambling potboy, with a red head, “ ’cos Mr. Lowten’s a-singin’ a comic song, and he’ll put him out. He’ll be done directly, Sir.”