“Wery fresh,” replied Sam; “me and the two waiters at the Peacock has been a-pumpin’ over the independent woters as supped there last night.”

“Pumping over independent voters!” exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.

“Yes,” said his attendant, “every man slept vere he fell down; we dragged ’em out, one by one, this mornin’, and put ’em under the pump, and they’re in reg’lar fine order now. Shillin’ a head the committee paid for that ’ere job.”

“Can such things be!” exclaimed the astonished Mr. Pickwick.

“Lord bless your heart, sir,” said Sam, “why where was you half baptised?⁠—that’s nothin’, that ain’t.”

“Nothing?” said Mr. Pickwick.