Sam took one comprehensive glance at Mr. Trotter’s thin face and wretched apparel; and then, seizing him by the arm, commenced dragging him away with great violence.

“Where are you going, Mr. Weller?” said Job, vainly struggling in the powerful grasp of his old enemy.

“Come on,” said Sam; “come on!” He deigned no further explanation till they reached the tap, and then called for a pot of porter, which was speedily produced.

“Now,” said Sam, “drink that up, ev’ry drop on it, and then turn the pot upside down, to let me see as you’ve took the medicine.”

“But, my dear Mr. Weller,” remonstrated Job.

“Down vith it!” said Sam peremptorily.