This last push had the effect which it was intended by the experienced Mr. Smouch to produce; for while Sam, anxious to return the compliment, was grinding that gentleman’s body against the doorpost, the principal crept past, and made his way to the bar, whither Sam, after bandying a few epithetical remarks with Mr. Smouch, followed at once.

“Good morning, my dear,” said the principal, addressing the young lady at the bar, with Botany Bay ease, and New South Wales gentility; “which is Mr. Pickwick’s room, my dear?”

“Show him up,” said the barmaid to a waiter, without deigning another look at the exquisite, in reply to his inquiry.