“You’re a rum ’un to look at, you are!” thought Mr. Weller, the first time his eyes encountered the glance of the stranger in the mulberry suit, who had a large, sallow, ugly face, very sunken eyes, and a gigantic head, from which depended a quantity of lank black hair. “You’re a rum ’un!” thought Mr. Weller; and thinking this, he went on washing himself, and thought no more about him.

Still the man kept glancing from his hymnbook to Sam, and from Sam to his hymnbook, as if he wanted to open a conversation. So at last, Sam, by way of giving him an opportunity, said with a familiar nod⁠—

“How are you, governor?”

“I am happy to say, I am pretty well, Sir,” said the man, speaking with great deliberation, and closing the book. “I hope you are the same, Sir?”