“No vay at all?” inquired Sam.

“No vay,” said Mr. Weller, “unless”⁠—and a gleam of intelligence lighted up his countenance as he sank his voice to a whisper, and applied his mouth to the ear of his offspring⁠—“unless it is getting him out in a turn-up bedstead, unbeknown to the turnkeys, Sammy, or dressin’ him up like a old ’ooman vith a green wail.”

Sam Weller received both of these suggestions with unexpected contempt, and again propounded his question.

“No,” said the old gentleman; “if he von’t let you stop there, I see no vay at all. It’s no thoroughfare, Sammy, no thoroughfare.”

“Well, then, I’ll tell you wot it is,” said Sam, “I’ll trouble you for the loan of five-and-twenty pound.”

“Wot good’ll that do?” inquired Mr. Weller.