With these words, the fat boy laid himself affectionately down by the side of the codfish, and, placing an oyster-barrel under his head for a pillow, fell asleep instantaneously.

“Well,” said Sam, “of all the cool boys ever I set my eyes on, this here young gen’l’m’n is the coolest. Come, wake up, young dropsy!”

But as young dropsy evinced no symptoms of returning animation, Sam Weller sat himself down in front of the cart, and starting the old horse with a jerk of the rein, jogged steadily on, towards the Manor Farm.