"Here is wine," said Mr. Pumblechook. "Let us drink, Thanks to

Fortune, and may she ever pick out her favourites with equal

judgment! And yet I cannot," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again,

"see afore me One - and likewise drink to One - without again

expressing - May I - may I - ?"

I said he might, and he shook hands with me again, and emptied his

glass and turned it upside down. I did the same; and if I had

turned myself upside down before drinking, the wine could not have

gone more direct to my head.

Mr. Pumblechook helped me to the liver wing, and to the best slice

of tongue (none of those out-of-the-way No Thoroughfares of Pork

now), and took, comparatively speaking, no care of himself at all.

"Ah! poultry, poultry! You little thought," said Mr. Pumblechook,

apostrophizing the fowl in the dish, "when you was a young

fledgling, what was in store for you. You little thought you was to

be refreshment beneath this humble roof for one as - Call it a

weakness, if you will," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again, "but

may I? may I - ?"

It began to be unnecessary to repeat the form of saying he might,

so he did it at once. How he ever did it so often without wounding

himself with my knife, I don't know.

"And your sister," he resumed, after a little steady eating, "which

had the honour of bringing you up by hand! It's a sad picter, to

reflect that she's no longer equal to fully understanding the

honour. May--"

I saw he was about to come at me again, and I stopped him.

"We'll drink her health," said I.

"Ah!" cried Mr. Pumblechook, leaning back in his chair, quite

flaccid with admiration, "that's the way you know 'em, sir!" (I

don't know who Sir was, but he certainly was not I, and there was

no third person present); "that's the way you know the nobleminded,

sir! Ever forgiving and ever affable. It might," said the servile

Pumblechook, putting down his untasted glass in a hurry and getting

up again, "to a common person, have the appearance of repeating -

but may I - ?"

When he had done it, he resumed his seat and drank to my sister.

"Let us never be blind," said Mr. Pumblechook, "to her faults of

temper, but it is to be hoped she meant well."

At about this time, I began to observe that he was getting flushed

in the face; as to myself, I felt all face, steeped in wine and

smarting.

I mentioned to Mr. Pumblechook that I wished to have my new clothes

sent to his house, and he was ecstatic on my so distinguishing him.

I mentioned my reason for desiring to avoid observation in the

village, and he lauded it to the skies. There was nobody but

himself, he intimated, worthy of my confidence, and - in short,

might he? Then he asked me tenderly if I remembered our boyish

games at sums, and how we had gone together to have me bound

apprentice, and, in effect, how he had ever been my favourite fancy

and my chosen friend? If I had taken ten times as many glasses of

wine as I had, I should have known that he never had stood in that

relation towards me, and should in my heart of hearts have

repudiated the idea. Yet for all that, I remember feeling convinced

that I had been much mistaken in him, and that he was a sensible

practical good-hearted prime fellow.

By degrees he fell to reposing such great confidence in me, as to

ask my advice in reference to his own affairs. He mentioned that

there was an opportunity for a great amalgamation and monopoly of

the corn and seed trade on those premises, if enlarged, such as had

never occurred before in that, or any other neighbourhood. What

alone was wanting to the realization of a vast fortune, he

considered to be More Capital. Those were the two little words,

more capital. Now it appeared to him (Pumblechook) that if that

capital were got into the business, through a sleeping partner, sir

- which sleeping partner would have nothing to do but walk in, by

self or deputy, whenever he pleased, and examine the books - and

walk in twice a year and take his profits away in his pocket, to

the tune of fifty per cent.