Chapter 47 - Page 2

Temple, a small-eyed peremptory
young gentleman, his pupil, who had written a lively book about
the law of demises, with a vast quantity of marginal notes and
references; and several other eminent and distinguished personages.
From this society, little Mr. Perker detached himself, on his
clerk being announced in a whisper; and repairing to the dining-
room, there found Mr. Lowten and Job Trotter looking very dim
and shadowy by the light of a kitchen candle, which the gentleman
who condescended to appear in plush shorts and cottons
for a quarterly stipend, had, with a becoming contempt for the
clerk and all things appertaining to 'the office,' placed upon the table.

'Now, Lowten,' said little Mr. Perker, shutting the door,'what's
the matter? No important letter come in a parcel, is there?'

'No, Sir,' replied Lowten. 'This is a messenger from Mr.
Pickwick, Sir.'

'From Pickwick, eh?' said the little man, turning quickly to
Job. 'Well, what is it?'

'Dodson and Fogg have taken Mrs. Bardell in execution for
her costs, Sir,' said Job.

'No!' exclaimed Perker, putting his hands in his pockets, and
reclining against the sideboard.

'Yes,' said Job. 'It seems they got a cognovit out of her, for the
amount of 'em, directly after the trial.'

'By Jove!' said Perker, taking both hands out of his pockets,
and striking the knuckles of his right against the palm of his left,
emphatically, 'those are the cleverest scamps I ever had anything
to do with!'

'The sharpest practitioners I ever knew, Sir,' observed Lowten.

'Sharp!' echoed Perker. 'There's no knowing where to have them.'

'Very true, Sir, there is not,' replied Lowten; and then, both
master and man pondered for a few seconds, with animated
countenances, as if they were reflecting upon one of the most
beautiful and ingenious discoveries that the intellect of man had
ever made. When they had in some measure recovered from their
trance of admiration, Job Trotter discharged himself of the rest
of his commission. Perker nodded his head thoughtfully, and
pulled out his watch.

'At ten precisely, I will be there,' said the little man. 'Sam is
quite right. Tell him so. Will you take a glass of wine, Lowten?'
'No, thank you, Sir.'

'You mean yes, I think,' said the little man, turning to the
sideboard for a decanter and glasses.

As Lowten DID mean yes, he said no more on the subject, but
inquired of Job, in an audible whisper, whether the portrait of
Perker, which hung opposite the fireplace, wasn't a wonderful
likeness, to which Job of course replied that it was. The wine
being by this time poured out, Lowten drank to Mrs. Perker and
the children, and Job to Perker. The gentleman in