“What do you mean?” was Mr. Pickwick’s counter inquiry.

“A vistlin’ shop, Sir,” interposed Mr. Weller.

“What is that, Sam?⁠—A bird-fancier’s?” inquired Mr. Pickwick.

“Bless your heart, no, Sir,” replied Job; “a whistling-shop, Sir, is where they sell spirits.” Mr. Job Trotter briefly explained here, that all persons, being prohibited under heavy penalties from conveying spirits into debtors’ prisons, and such commodities being highly prized by the ladies and gentlemen confined therein, it had occurred to some speculative turnkey to connive, for certain lucrative considerations, at two or three prisoners retailing the favourite article of gin, for their own profit and advantage.