“You don’t mean to say you weren’t down upon me?” said Mr. Bob Sawyer, shaking Mr. Winkle’s hand with friendly warmth.

“Upon my word I was not,” replied Mr. Winkle, returning his pressure.

“I wonder you didn’t see the name,” said Bob Sawyer, calling his friend’s attention to the outer door, on which, in the same white paint, were traced the words “Sawyer, late Nockemorf.”

“It never caught my eye,” returned Mr. Winkle.

“Lord, if I had known who you were, I should have rushed out, and caught you in my arms,” said Bob Sawyer; “but upon my life, I thought you were the King’s-taxes.”