“I’m wery much obliged to you, old gen’l’m’n,” replied Sam, “for consulting my conwenience, and I’m still more obliged to the other gen’l’m’n, who looks as if he’d just escaped from a giant’s carrywan, for his wery ’andsome suggestion; but I should prefer your givin’ me a answer to my question, if it’s all the same to you.⁠—How are you, Sir?” This last observation was addressed with a patronising air to Mr. Pickwick, who was peeping through the front window.

Mr. Grummer, perfectly speechless with indignation, dragged the truncheon with the brass crown from its particular pocket, and flourished it before Sam’s eyes.

“Ah,” said Sam, “it’s wery pretty, ’specially the crown, which is uncommon like the real one.”