“Samivel!” said Mr. Weller, with dignity.

“I say it can’t be done,” repeated Sam in a louder key. “Wot’s to become of you, Sir?”

“My good fellow,” replied Mr. Pickwick, “the recent changes among my friends will alter my mode of life in future, entirely; besides, I am growing older, and want repose and quiet. My rambles, Sam, are over.”

“How do I know that ’ere, sir?” argued Sam. “You think so now! S’pose you wos to change your mind, vich is not unlikely, for you’ve the spirit o’ five-and-twenty in you still, what ’ud become on you vithout me? It can’t be done, Sir, it can’t be done.”

“Wery good, Samivel, there’s a good deal in that,” said Mr. Weller encouragingly.