Mr. Pickwick's apartments in Goswell Street, although on a limitedscale, were not only of a very neat and comfortable description,but peculiarly adapted for the residence of a man of his genius andobservation. His sitting-room was the first-floor front, his bedroom thesecond-floor front; and thus, whether he were sitting at his desk in hisparlour, or standing before the dressing-glass in his dormitory, he hadan equal opportunity of contemplating human nature in all the numerousphases it exhibits, in that not more populous than popular thoroughfare.His landlady, Mrs. Bardell--the relict and sole executrix of a deceasedcustom-house officer--was a comely woman of bustling manners andagreeable appearance, with a natural genius for cooking, improvedby study and long practice, into an exquisite talent. There were nochildren, no servants, no fowls. The only other inmates of the housewere a large man and a small boy; the first a lodger, the second aproduction of Mrs. Bardell's. The large man was always home precisely atten o'clock at night, at which hour he regularly condensed himself intothe limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back parlour; andthe infantine sports and gymnastic exercises of Master Bardell wereexclusively confined to the neighbouring pavements and gutters.Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house; and in it Mr.Pickwick's will was law.

To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy ofthe establishment, and conversant with the admirable regulation of Mr.Pickwick's mind, his appearance and behaviour on the morning previous tothat which had been fixed upon for the journey to Eatanswill would havebeen most mysterious and unaccountable. He paced the room to and frowith hurried steps, popped his head out of the window at intervalsof about three minutes each, constantly referred to his watch, andexhibited many other manifestations of impatience very unusual with him.It was evident that something of great importance was in contemplation,but what that something was, not even Mrs. Bardell had been enabled todiscover.

'Mrs. Bardell,' said Mr. Pickwick, at last, as that amiable femaleapproached the termination of a prolonged dusting of the apartment.

'Sir,' said Mrs. Bardell.

'Your little boy is a very long time gone.'

'Why it's a good long way to the Borough, sir,' remonstrated Mrs.Bardell.

'Ah,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'very true; so it is.' Mr. Pickwick relapsedinto silence, and Mrs. Bardell resumed her dusting.

'Mrs. Bardell,' said Mr. Pickwick, at the expiration of a few minutes.

'Sir,' said Mrs. Bardell again. 'Do you think it a much greater expenseto keep two people, than to keep one?'

'La, Mr. Pickwick,' said Mrs. Bardell, colouring up to the very borderof her cap, as she fancied she observed a species of matrimonial twinklein the eyes of her lodger; 'La, Mr. Pickwick, what a question!'

'Well, but do you?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

'That depends,' said Mrs. Bardell, approaching the duster very near toMr. Pickwick's elbow which was planted on the table. 'That depends agood deal upon the person, you know, Mr. Pickwick; and whether it's asaving and careful person, sir.'

'That's very true,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'but the person I have in myeye (here he looked very hard at Mrs. Bardell) I think possesses thesequalities; and has, moreover, a considerable knowledge of the world, anda great deal of sharpness, Mrs. Bardell, which may be of material use tome.'

'La, Mr. Pickwick,' said Mrs. Bardell, the crimson rising to hercap-border again.

'I do,' said Mr. Pickwick, growing energetic, as was his wont inspeaking of a subject which interested him--'I do, indeed; and to tellyou the truth, Mrs. Bardell, I have made up my mind.'

'Dear me, sir,'exclaimed Mrs. Bardell.

'You'll think it very strange now,' said the amiable Mr. Pickwick, witha good-humoured glance at his companion, 'that I never consulted youabout this matter, and never even mentioned it, till I sent your littleboy out this morning--eh?'

Mrs. Bardell could only reply by a look. She had long worshipped Mr.Pickwick at a distance, but here she was, all at once, raised to apinnacle to which her wildest and most extravagant hopes had neverdared to aspire. Mr. Pickwick was going to propose--a deliberate plan,too--sent her little boy to the Borough, to get him out of the way--howthoughtful--how considerate!

'Well,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'what do you think?'

'Oh, Mr. Pickwick,' said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation, 'you'revery kind, sir.'

'It'll save you a good deal of trouble, won't it?' said Mr. Pickwick.'Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, sir,' replied Mrs.Bardell; 'and, of course, I should take more trouble to please youthen, than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so muchconsideration for my loneliness.'

'Ah, to be sure,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'I never thought of that. When I amin town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. To be sure, so youwill.'

'I am sure I ought to be a very happy woman,' said Mrs. Bardell.

'And your little boy--' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Bless his heart!' interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob.

'He, too, will have a companion,' resumed Mr. Pickwick, 'a lively one,who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week than he wouldever learn in a year.' And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly.

'Oh, you dear--' said Mrs. Bardell.

Mr. Pickwick started.

'Oh, you kind, good, playful dear,' said Mrs. Bardell; and without moreado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pickwick'sneck, with a cataract of tears and a chorus of sobs.

'Bless my soul,' cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick; 'Mrs. Bardell, mygood woman--dear me, what a situation--pray consider.--Mrs. Bardell,don't--if anybody should come--'

'Oh, let them come,' exclaimed Mrs. Bardell frantically; 'I'll neverleave you--dear, kind, good soul;' and, with these words, Mrs. Bardellclung the tighter.

'Mercy upon me,' said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently, 'I hearsomebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good creature,don't.' But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing; for Mrs.Bardell had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms; and before he could gaintime to deposit her on a chair, Master Bardell entered the room,ushering in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass.

Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood with hislovely burden in his arms, gazing vacantly on the countenances of hisfriends, without the slightest attempt at recognition or explanation.They, in their turn, stared at him; and Master Bardell, in his turn,stared at everybody.

The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and theperplexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might have remainedin exactly the same relative situations until the suspended animation ofthe lady was restored, had it not been for a most beautiful and touchingexpression of filial affection on the part of her youthful son. Cladin a tight suit of corduroy, spangled with brass buttons of a veryconsiderable size, he at first stood at the door astounded anduncertain; but by degrees, the impression that his mother must havesuffered some personal damage pervaded his partially developed mind, andconsidering Mr. Pickwick as the aggressor, he set up an appallingand semi-earthly kind of howling, and butting forward with his head,commenced assailing that immortal gentleman about the back and legs,with such blows and pinches as the strength of his arm, and the violenceof his excitement, allowed.

'Take this little villain away,' said the agonised Mr. Pickwick, 'he'smad.'

'What is the matter?' said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians.

'I don't know,' replied Mr. Pickwick pettishly. 'Take away the boy.'(Here Mr. Winkle carried the interesting boy, screaming and struggling,to the farther end of the apartment.) 'Now help me, lead this womandownstairs.'

'Oh, I am better now,' said Mrs. Bardell faintly.

'Let me lead you downstairs,' said the ever-gallant Mr. Tupman.

'Thank you, sir--thank you;' exclaimed Mrs. Bardell hysterically. Anddownstairs she was led accordingly, accompanied by her affectionate son.

'I cannot conceive,' said Mr. Pickwick when his friend returned--'Icannot conceive what has been the matter with that woman. I had merelyannounced to her my intention of keeping a man-servant, when shefell into the extraordinary paroxysm in which you found her. Veryextraordinary thing.'

'Very,' said his three friends.

'Placed me in such an extremely awkward situation,' continued Mr.Pickwick.

'Very,' was the reply of his followers, as they coughed slightly, andlooked dubiously at each other.

This behaviour was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He remarked theirincredulity. They evidently suspected him.

'There is a man in the passage now,' said Mr. Tupman.

'It's the man I spoke to you about,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'I sent forhim to the Borough this morning. Have the goodness to call him up,Snodgrass.'

Mr. Snodgrass did as he was desired; and Mr. Samuel Weller forthwithpresented himself.

'Oh--you remember me, I suppose?' said Mr. Pickwick.

'I should think so,' replied Sam, with a patronising wink. 'Queer startthat 'ere, but he was one too many for you, warn't he? Up to snuff and apinch or two over--eh?'

'Never mind that matter now,' said Mr. Pickwick hastily; 'I want tospeak to you about something else. Sit down.'

'Thank'ee, sir,' said Sam. And down he sat without further bidding,having previously deposited his old white hat on the landing outsidethe door. ''Tain't a wery good 'un to look at,' said Sam, 'but it's anastonishin' 'un to wear; and afore the brim went, it was a wery handsometile. Hows'ever it's lighter without it, that's one thing, and everyhole lets in some air, that's another--wentilation gossamer I calls it.'On the delivery of this sentiment, Mr. Weller smiled agreeably upon theassembled Pickwickians.

'Now with regard to the matter on which I, with the concurrence of thesegentlemen, sent for you,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'That's the pint, sir,' interposed Sam; 'out vith it, as the father saidto his child, when he swallowed a farden.'

'We want to know, in the first place,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'whether youhave any reason to be discontented with your present situation.'

'Afore I answers that 'ere question, gen'l'm'n,' replied Mr. Weller,'I should like to know, in the first place, whether you're a-goin' topurwide me with a better?'

A sunbeam of placid benevolence played on Mr. Pickwick's features as hesaid, 'I have half made up my mind to engage you myself.'

'Have you, though?' said Sam.

Mr. Pickwick nodded in the affirmative.

'Wages?' inquired Sam.

'Twelve pounds a year,' replied Mr. Pickwick.

'Clothes?'

'Two suits.'

'Work?'

'To attend upon me; and travel about with me and these gentlemen here.''Take the bill down,' said Sam emphatically. 'I'm let to a singlegentleman, and the terms is agreed upon.'

'You accept the situation?' inquired Mr. Pickwick. 'Cert'nly,' repliedSam. 'If the clothes fits me half as well as the place, they'll do.'

'You can get a character of course?' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Ask the landlady o' the White Hart about that, Sir,' replied Sam.

'Can you come this evening?'

'I'll get into the clothes this minute, if they're here,' said Sam, withgreat alacrity.

'Call at eight this evening,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'and if the inquiriesare satisfactory, they shall be provided.'

With the single exception of one amiable indiscretion, in which anassistant housemaid had equally participated, the history of Mr.Weller's conduct was so very blameless, that Mr. Pickwick felt fullyjustified in closing the engagement that very evening. With thepromptness and energy which characterised not only the publicproceedings, but all the private actions of this extraordinary man, heat once led his new attendant to one of those convenient emporiumswhere gentlemen's new and second-hand clothes are provided, and thetroublesome and inconvenient formality of measurement dispensed with;and before night had closed in, Mr. Weller was furnished with a greycoat with the P. C. button, a black hat with a cockade to it, a pinkstriped waistcoat, light breeches and gaiters, and a variety of othernecessaries, too numerous to recapitulate.

'Well,' said that suddenly-transformed individual, as he took his seaton the outside of the Eatanswill coach next morning; 'I wonder whetherI'm meant to be a footman, or a groom, or a gamekeeper, or a seedsman.I looks like a sort of compo of every one on 'em. Never mind; there'sa change of air, plenty to see, and little to do; and all this suits mycomplaint uncommon; so long life to the Pickvicks, says I!'