“Now, young man, what do you want?”

“Is there anybody here, named Sam?” inquired the youth, in a loud voice of treble quality.

“What’s the t’other name?” said Sam Weller, looking round.

“How should I know?” briskly replied the young gentleman below the hairy cap.

“You’re a sharp boy, you are,” said Mr. Weller; “only I wouldn’t show that wery fine edge too much, if I was you, in case anybody took it off. What do you mean by comin’ to a hot-el, and asking arter Sam, vith as much politeness as a vild Indian?”

“ ’Cos an old gen’l’m’n told me to,” replied the boy.

“What old gen’l’m’n?” inquired Sam, with deep disdain.