“Yes, Sir,” resumed Pott, “it is.” Here, bending towards Mr. Pickwick, he whispered in a deep, hollow voice, “A Buff ball, Sir, will take place in Birmingham tomorrow evening.”

“God bless me!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

“Yes, Sir, and supper,” added Pott.

“You don’t say so!” ejaculated Mr. Pickwick.

Pott nodded portentously.